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You can love them; you can hate them; you can claim that you’re above them and so much better than others for not enjoying them. But, in reality, we all have things to learn from Reality TV. The way we choose to portray our “realities” to the world, and more specifically to the West, tells a lot about the extent to which countries stand with our values. < Back The Real Eastern Question: Reality TV and Soap Operas Melissa Çevikel November 30, 2024 As a reality show fan, I often find myself questioning why I, and many others, who seemingly had nothing to do with these, were so invested in white Americans searching for love on low-production online television platforms. But, after my recent discovery of “Love is Blind Habibi,” I was able to look at reality television from a completely new perspective. “Love is Blind Habibi” is a self-proclaimed “social experiment” reality show where a total of twenty participants (ten men and ten women) communicate with each other inside “pods”—rooms with walls separating the two participants from each other—until they eventually decide to take the next step and get married. The participants have ten days in the pods to choose the person they wish to marry, and around three weeks until their marriage ceremony to split between a “honeymoon retreat” and their actual lives. Up to this point, there is nothing differentiating Love is Blind Habibi from any of its other adaptations around the world,such as Sweden, UK, Brazil and Japan. However, beyond the technical aspects of the work, there are things as simple as the mannerisms of the participants and the hosts that make the viewer feel captivated. The show presents participants—or actors—from all around the Arab world that live seemingly similar lives but each possess very different characteristics. For example, there is the character of Simo, who is a retail business owner, and can only marry a Moroccan woman, later dumps his match because he believes she can’t handle him. There is also Chafic, an entrepreneur who proudly stated in an interview, “I've been single because I was too focused on looks, but looks fade and personality stays ” yet realized that his second option from the pods was an Instagram model he once hit up. He then introduced the viewer to a stereotypical model of Middle Eastern men that is funny yet familiar to ordinary people in their day-to-day lives. While Love is Blind Habibi possesses the element of relatability that no other Love is Blind had arguably captured before, with mothers and aunties giving advice being a key point in the show progression, it also made me wonder (as someone who grew up at the prime of Turkish reality shows) if all Middle Eastern show adaptations were as successful at getting the same feeling across, or if most just felt forced and phony? One of the first very unsuccessful—and henceforth generally unknown—attempts of adaptations that came to mind was Turkey’s recent take this summer on “Love Island,” named (and directly translated to) “Aşk Adası.” At first glance, Aşk Adası may seem like just a very low-budget reality show filmed at a villa which is being framed as a luxury island gateway retreat. But upon closer inspection, the viewers can come to realize that the show is much more than that. If one can get past how bad the production truly is, the first thing any experienced Middle Eastern reality media enjoyer will notice is how oddly everyone is dressed in comparison to the location where the show is filmed, where the actors are dressed in clothes that would not be found in a piece of Turkish media especially under the censorship of RTÜK, which will be discussed later. Compared to Aşk Adası, Love is Blind Habibi has nothing to prove to the world. It lays out before the viewers eyes the naked reality of toxic masculinity, conservatism and family ties in the Middle East. Aşk Adası, on the other hand, seems like a very forced portrayal of Turks as— surely in the eyes of the producer—modern and European. Every ten minutes or so, the viewer is faced with a very forced “sexual tension” scene, which is most likely as difficult to watch for the viewer as it is to act, as the actors look very uncomfortable throughout the entire show. However, forceful over-sexualization and objectification of women in the show are not new to Western media, and the Turkish media has not shied away from this either. While these aspects are also the main catchpoints of popular U.S shows such as “Too Hot to Handle” and “Perfect Match,” the fact that they’re higher production and that they’re owning up to this reality distracts viewers from its flaws. Though Turkey’s attempt to move away from its conservative connotation is noticeable, doing this through oversexualization of women disregards the long history of women’s rights movements in the country, especially when looked in the context of the country's recent struggles on the topic. Not to mention these attempts will not prove to be successful as long as there remains a very strict inspecting body for Turkish media (RTÜK). An example of a good Turkish reality show, however, would be “Kısmetse Olur” (2015) which translates to “If it’s Fate, it will Happen.” While I’m not sure if it was because of itsmid-2010s production or the randomness of its cast selection—which ranged from American men posing as machos to women claiming to be “ivent” (a new translation of the word “event” that emerged during the peak of the profession) organizers— there was something that made this show feel excessively Turkish. It was the only reality show which, in my opinion, is qualified to label itself as a “social experiment.” It revealed to the viewers the worlds of early 2010s bachelors and bachelorettes, how they spent their days, and how relatable their simple lives were. In 2022, the show made a comeback with a modern-day adaptation titled “If it’s Fate, it will Happen: The Power of Love” (Kısmetse Olur: Aşkın Gücü), with a first season that didn’t disappoint either. The 2015 version was a reign of personal trainers and event organizers as well as aspiring fashion designers, while the 2022 version showed a range of influencers, singers and entrepreneurs (unemployed). It perfectly portrayed the new generation of bachelor Turks we saw around ourselves and maybe even personally knew, despite being painfully obviously scripted. 2017 marked a very saddening legal decision for reality show enjoyers when marriage programmes were banned in Turkey. This was a rare moment when media censorship, in fact, breeded innovation, and the world got introduced to a very colorful selection of newly produced soap operas. If the West had reality shows and nudity, the East now had one thousand-episode-long plotlines and adaptations where no LGBTQ+ got to see the light of day. Erkenci Kuş, Sen Çal Kapımı and Aşk-ı Memnu are just a few of original soap operas produced around this time. And though cliches were one of the strongest points of these works, there were also many adaptations from Western media such as Grey’s Anatomy (Doktorlar), the O.C (Medcezir), Gossip Girl (Küçük Sırlar) and Desperate Housewives (Umutsuz Ev Kadınları). These received more international attention than they did locally, but were still enjoyed by the Turkish viewers. More recently, screen adaptations of prominent Turkish literature themes from the late 19th and early 20th century novels, such as Westernization versus traditionalism, became a big hit for screenwriters. One of the most viewed Turkish TV series currently, titled “Kızılcık Şerbeti” follows the life of a young woman, Doğa, from a “modern and Western” family who, after becoming pregnant, has to get married to the father of the child, Fatih, coming from a religious and conservative background. The series follows funny and unfortunate events Doğa has to face living in a new environment and her culture shock. Despite how simple and uneventful it sounds, this is arguably the most progressive piece of media recently created in Turkey and it still seems unbelievable that it is able to air despite its scandalous and caricature-like portrayal of such topics in the country. Though these might be helpful in encouraging everyone to take a step back and realize how silly such differences are, many pieces of media aiming to achieve what Kızılcık Şerbeti has done were criticized for promoting abuse culture. Unfortunately, abuse and violence are staple plotlines in soap operas, and despite popular belief that they aid in raising awareness, they counterproductively normalize cycles of marital abuse often lived out in Turkish households. You can love them; you can hate them; you can claim that you’re above them and so much better than others for not enjoying them. But, in reality, we all have things to learn from Reality TV. The way we choose to portray our “realities” to the world, and more specifically to the West, tells a lot about the extent to which countries stand with our values. Love is Blind Habibi showed that one does not have to appeal to Eurocentric values to be enjoyed by viewers outside of Arab states. Turkish adaptations of Western soap operas, on the other hand, showed where they chose to draw the line with Westernization.

< Back Turbulent Tensions: What’s Going on Over Russia? Pracheth Sanka January 31, 2025 Dec. 25, 2024: Azerbaijan Airlines Flight 8243, en route from Baku, Azerbaijan to Grozny, Chechnya, inexplicably crashed near Aktau, Kazakhstan, on the other side of the Caspian Sea. The intended flight path, a regularly scheduled trip, was a near-straight shot north towards Grozny, passing over parts of the Caspian Sea before entering Russian airspace over Makhachkala, Dagestan. However, the flight veered east towards Kazakhstan, severely changing altitude and losing GPS service before its fated descent. The crash killed 38 onboard, including both pilots, and left 29 survivors. Early reports by Russian and Azerbaijani aviation authorities supposed that foggy weather conditions could have been a factor in why the flight diverted toward Aktau, but this gave no explanation for why the flight crashed. Rosaviatsiya, the Russian aviation agency, proposed that a flock of birds may have been to blame for the incident. While these initial predictions indicated that the plane malfunctioned due to unfortunate natural occurrences, the suspected truth is less tame. Shortly after the incident, Azerbaijan Airlines announced that “external interference” was a factor in the flight's demise. Survivors recalled hearing multiple loud bangs as the flight approached Grozny and the flight’s GPS was jammed as it entered Russia, leading to speculation that Russian military operations were to blame for the disaster. Though nearly a thousand kilometers away from the frontline, Ukraine has conducted drone strikes as far as Chechnya as part of the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian war . Azerbaijani investigators believe that Russian missiles mistakenly struck down the plane as part of anti-drone operations. Rosaviastsiya also announced that Ukrainian drone strikes had been launched in Grozny before Flight 8243 took off, further providing evidence that the Russian military could have caused the crash. Azerbaijan's President, Ilham Aliyev, placed full blame on Russia, asking Russian President Vladimir Putin to admit guilt and offer compensation to the victims. Despite Aliyev’s pressure, which came with Western support , Putin refused to accept responsibility for the tragedy, only providing his condolences to the victims and those affected. This was not the first instance of a suspicious aviation disaster taking place over Russia. Russian airspace has long been plagued with cases of mysterious crashes and downed airplanes, such as Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 and the 2023 Wagner Group plane crash, which killed Russian rebel and paramilitary leader Yevgeny Prigozhin. The Kremlin’s failure to cooperate in international investigations into these incidents, and their further refusal to accept any responsibility, point to their sinister involvement in some of aviation’s worst crashes. Flight MH17, which was en route from Amsterdam, Netherlands to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, crashed over eastern Ukraine in July of 2014, killing all 298 passengers and crew on board. Russia-allied Ukrainian separatists shot down the plane during the war in Donbas, which was part of the ongoing Russo-Ukrainian war. An international investigation headed by the Netherlands found that the separatists used Russian-owned missiles to bring down the flight. The same investigation prosecuted four individuals related to the incident, ultimately finding three guilty of the murders of the 298 killed. However, the Kremlin refuses to hand over the three men and continues to deny any involvement in the downing of the plane. Further probing by Dutch officials found that Putin may have even approved the funding and supply of the missiles used by the separatist forces, further implicating his involvement in the crash. While Dutch officials admitted that their evidence was insufficient for a proper conclusion, there were strong indications that Putin taking action may have led to the fate of Flight MH17. Russia’s refusal to cooperate with international prosecutors and investigators permits a shadow of feigned innocence, a way for them to remain devoid of responsibility in the space of international relations, despite the implicit understanding that Putin and the Kremlin bear culpability for their actions. Take Yevgeny Prigozhin’s death in August of 2023, which took place two months after his failed mutiny against the Russian Ministry of Defense. Prigozhin, a once-close ally of Putin and leader of the private military Wagner Group, perished in a private plane crash north of Moscow, killing all passengers on board. Like the Azerbaijan Airlines crash, investigators noted that there was external interference at play and grenade fragments were found in the bodies of the victims, indicating foul play. Putin, who was open to an internal investigation, rejected outside help from the Brazilian company that manufactured the plane, while also dismissing claims that it was an assassination attempt on his behalf. A targeted attack on Prigozhin—who at the time was seen as an enemy of the state—would not be new to the Kremlin. Russian oligarchs and businessmen who oppose the regime have famously died in suspicious circumstances, like falling out of hotel room windows or suffering heart attacks; popular Russian dissident Alexei Navalny suddenly died while serving time in an arctic corrective prison colony, in what may have been a targeted poisoning . It is not below the Putin regime to have assassinated Prigozhin, or at the very least, had some suspect connection to his death. Russia’s failure, like in their other aviation ‘accidents’, to transparently investigate the incident highlights their aversion to culpability and responsibility, despite the rest of the world seeming to see past the Kremlin’s facade. Perhaps Putin truly believes that he has done no wrong, and it could be that these accidents were truly just that: accidents. Or maybe he knows that as long as these disasters take place within his borders, no one can fully know what he has or has not done. Whatever the case may be, the world has become wary of wandering in Russian air. The European Union’s aviation agency has warned all non-European airlines to avoid flying over Western Russia and to avoid being unintentionally—or intentionally—targeted by Russian defense systems. As the war wages on, and Putin’s power is checked, both externally and internally, flying into Russian airspace seems to be an increasingly dangerous venture. Airlines should heed the ominous warnings of their fated predecessors and avoid the tragedy of a downed flight. Photo credits: Wikicommons

< Back There's No Place Like Home Ibtissem Remdane The idea of home itself sounds deceptively simple. Yet, it is tremendously hard to define, as once you start untangling it, it reveals layers that are hard to pin down. On a campus as culturally diverse as ours, this topic must be something many of us, if not most of us, can relate to. For anyone with several ethnic backgrounds, “home” is not a neatly folded answer you keep at the back of your mind, ready to unwrap with ease when asked the question “Where are you from?” . Personally, I usually stutter, give up, then blurt out the three places I am linked to, in a random order. I have always felt that way because “home” , to me, has always been a patchwork. There’s the place you were born, the one you grew up in, the countries tied to your heritage, and now a campus far away from everything you ever knew. Each one of them feels like “home,” but then again none of them quite do. They overlap and argue with each other—they coexist like siblings fighting over the bigger room. “Home” is a notion that is both comforting and weirdly elusive for people navigating multiple worlds. That’s because “ home ”, at its very core, is a strange concept in itself. It is a human construction that materializes your attachment to a place and shapes your cultural identity, your sense of belonging. Yet, it’s also a feeling, an instinct and – for the lucky ones – a safe place where you can seek refuge. Growing up in France, I knew I was Arab because I was told so, loudly and often. Strangers reminded me that my hair was not straight enough, that the beard of my grandfather didn’t belong in “their” country, or that my grandmother’s accent was too thick to count as French. And then there was my middle school gym teacher, who decided my name was “too complicated” and renamed me Lea. Unfortunately, no, I am not making this up. But when I would visit Morocco or Algeria, I was the French girl. Even though I bathed in the culture through my grandparents, it often felt foreign and distant. My Arabic was clumsy, I couldn’t pronounce my “ ع ” (‘Ayn) properly and I somehow always managed to get lost in my own family’s house, like a tourist in a museum. The irony was painful: I was either too French or too Arab, but never in the right place. So where did that leave me? Not fully French, not fully Moroccan or Algerian, but somewhere in between, stranded. You live in this paradox of being uprooted in every place you’re supposed to be rooted in: always both an insider and an outsider. It’s a constant dissonance. Maya Angelou once wrote: “The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” What happens when that place doesn’t exist? When it’s scattered across continents? When every supposed “ home ” comes with conditions, tests or suspicions about who you are? When you feel like you’re stuck in a permanent audition, scrutinized by unforgiving eyes. I had this almost systematic urge of proving to some that I was French enough, while trying to prove to others that I was Arab enough. Unsurprisingly the jury is still out, I remain in the waiting room, and that is the heart of the issue. Growing up in a context where people make you question your legitimacy due to your ethnicity, it takes work to deconstruct the internalized shame. As living with the idea that you should be ashamed, that you must reject this intrinsic part of yourself in order to fit in, is also and foremost woven in racism. It’s the constant reminder that certain features, accents or cultural practices are deemed less “acceptable”, less “normal” and less “worthy”. The hardest part is that this work of recovering is ongoing: It’s about reclaiming a sense of pride, resisting the subtle pressures to erase or dilute the parts of yourself that society has historically marginalized. The truth is, this heritage is an asset rather than a burden, and probably one of the most precious strengths someone can have. Especially here, at Sciences Po Menton, you realize how much of a privilege it is to come from multiple parts of the world, to have several places you hesitate to call home. That is why I would argue that truly, home is within. It is both what you decide and what befalls you. It is several places and several moments in time stitched together. Again, it’s a patchwork. Because you carry the traits of your ancestors on your face. Because you still feel the grass of your old backyard on your skin. Because you can speak the language of the land—which, for me, mostly means that I am fluent in complaining. Because you remember the people you grew up with, even if you’ve forgotten their birthdays. Maybe that’s where we find comfort: knowing that even if home is fragmented, fluid or endlessly questioned, it remains something you carry, stubbornly, quietly, whether or not others (like your gym teacher) recognize it. So yes, the concept of “home” is confusing. It is warmth, it is the spicy food that makes your nose run, it’s the stories told by your cousins in a language you half understand but fully feel. It is contradictory. It is far and near at the same time. But it is still, somehow, uniquely yours. Perhaps what I have been trying to say is what James Baldwin understood before me: “[…] Home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.” Perhaps that’s the closest I can get to an answer. Photo Source: Evgeniya Bolyukh, Dreamstime Previous Next

< Back Schengen: Border(less)? Stanimir Stoyanov In the year 1985, in the small town of Schengen, Luxembourg, the concept of a borderless Europe was born . 40 years later, the Schengen Area encompasses 29 European countries, guaranteeing freedom of movement to nearly 450 million people. If you were to explain this idea to a person living in the era of the Iron Curtain, they would probably see it as unrealistic humor. But does Schengen truly live up to this utopic practice? Rising concerns about national security are now testing Schengen’s limits. What is the current reality of a borderless Europe and is it truly borderless? The two sides of Schengen In its current situation, Schengen can be described as a two-sided coin. On one side, January 2025 saw the introduction of Bulgaria and Romania into the visa-free zone. On the other hand, countries around Europe reintroduced border control in response to rising anti-immigration sentiments. After years of striving for membership, on January 1, Romania and Bulgaria celebrated full accession into Schengen. Both countries have external borders with non-Schengen states, which is why, despite meeting the Schengen acquis criteria as early as 2011, their full membership has been repeatedly delayed due to concerns over corruption, rule of law and border security. Beginning in 2022, the Netherlands and Austria blocked the accession process, citing fears of increased irregular migration and weaknesses in the judicial systems of both countries. In 2024 the debate coincided with elections in Austria and the Netherlands, where in both cases migration was a crucial topic. Both of the countries lifted their objections following their elections. At the same time, there has been a wave of Schengen members who have recently temporarily reintroduced border control. The Schengen Agreement officially allows for such exceptions due to national and public security concerns. Austria, Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Slovenia, Norway, Sweden and Finland began temporary control on their borders throughout the last months of 2024, with some of them persisting up until today. Most people might not relate to this being an issue yet, since air travel has not been affected. I personally have had to experience this situation when driving from my home country, Bulgaria, to Menton, France. I would expect that after entering Croatia through Serbia, I would not face any further border delays. Arriving at the Slovenian border, I was baffled to see a long queue of trucks waiting on the side of the road. Even though Schengen has abolished borders between its members, the structures of the past checkpoints remain so they can be reinstated quickly if needed. At the Croatia-Slovenia border, there were border guards and police stopping each vehicle and checking their documents. The same happens when entering Italy. On the highway border crossing, there is an improvised checkpoint with police tents where you have to stop and wait for your documentation to be checked. I was also asked to provide information about my destination and purpose of travel, even having to explain my field of study. There have been pledges that the checks will be conducted less frequently, and in most cases, not every vehicle is stopped. Most often it is foreign registration plates arousing suspicion that are pulled over. The Menton border experience Living in Menton gives us Sciences Pistes the unique experience of having a first-hand look at the beauty of the Schengen area. It allows us to make use of the often cheaper Italian prices of goods, such as groceries and tobacco. When going to the nearest city, Ventimiglia, most people take the train where enforcement has been increased and travelers are often checked on the train or when exiting the train stations. Overall, most do not experience any trouble when commuting by train, but when it comes to crossing the border by car, the situation is different. Right after going into Italy, there is a supermarket and tobacco store, which I frequent quite often. When passing the border on the Italian side there is no issue, but when it comes to the French side there is always police. Each vehicle has to stop at the checkpoint, where most are just told to continue, but some are stopped to have their documents checked and sometimes their cars searched. While individual cross-border shopping for cheaper goods like cigarettes remains common and legal within set limits, the presence of organized smuggling networks has prompted authorities to maintain vigilant border controls. For example, this cross-border activity isn't limited to individual consumers. The region has also been a hotspot for organized cigarette smuggling. In January 2025, the European Public Prosecutor’s Office dismantled an international smuggling network operating in Italy and France. The group concealed up to 800 kg of cigarettes in food shipments from North Africa into Italy, using falsified documents to mislead customs officials. Some of these smuggled cigarettes were transported to the French Riviera. #GO2025 The attitude of the European Union towards the topic is dual-sided. This can be illustrated with this year’s European Capital of Culture and the #GO2025 campaign that goes with it. This year's capital of culture has very symbolic connotations, the chosen city/ies of Gorizia, Italy and Nova Gorica, Slovenia tell the inspirational story of two communities once divided. Following significant border augmentations after the two world wars, the people of the town ended up on two sides of the Iron Curtain. With Slovenia’s accession into Schengen in 2007, the border was completely demolished and division became a remnant of a past full of struggle. I was fortunate enough to attend the opening ceremony of the 2025 Capital of Culture. The personal testimonies I heard showcased the importance of reconciliation. A foreign student, studying at the university in Nova Gorica remarked: “Today was the best day of my life. Seeing people from both sides of the border partying together. Back in my home country we argue which side of the border has a deeper dump.” At the same time, crossing the border within the town, the border checkpoints now stand again. While not technically fenced off, police checkpoints operate, with cars not registered in one of the two towns, often being checked. It is exhilarating to see people from different linguistic, cultural and ethnic backgrounds coexisting in a cross-border community, but it also seems that current challenges are being put under the rug. So, will Schengen endure in its current form, or will more exceptions gradually erode its foundations? The answer lies not just in policy decisions in Brussels but in the daily reality on the ground in places such as our little lemon town. In cities like Menton, Nova Gorica and many others, border guards, migrants and residents navigate the complex intersection of law, politics and human rights. The aforementioned border(less) experiences act as a litmus test to the Schengen concept and it is up to the people to prove its resilience. Photo credits: bobbsled on Flickr Previous Next

< Back Is Big Pharma Killing Babies? Consumer Unease Rises in the Face of Johnson and Johnson’s Baby Powder Lawsuit By Jessica Cheng December 31, 2021 Reaching the status of becoming a household name is a goal that many brands attempt to achieve, even though only a select few succeed. Once this staple status is fulfilled, many brands will become well-established within the consumerist public and have a specific product that is unequivocally linked to the brand. For example, although there are many brands of instant macaroni and cheese in the United States, the most ubiquitous is Kraft’s. Likewise, for Johnson & Johnson (J&J), the talc-based baby powder sold in an iconic white bottle became the product that established and solidified the company’s wholesome image nearly over a century ago. Companies strive to become a household name because the status comes with a multitude of perks, such as automatic consumer trust. But what happens when a breach of trust occurs between the public and the brand? Formed over a century ago in 1886, the brand and pharmaceutical giant J&J has recently come under scrutiny for not only going through a lawsuit over the existence of asbestos in its talc-based baby powder, but also attempting to split its baby powder from the rest of its company via the establishment of a separate subsidiary. Although this split does not seem like a big deal at first glance, the numbers behind it would tell otherwise. The J&J Baby Powder offshoot, known as LTL Management, is valued at $2 billion — an amount that pales in comparison to the $440 billion that the entire pharmaceutical company is worth. Accounting for just $2 billion of its parent company’s value, the split guarantees that lawsuit plaintiffs will win smaller sums of money from LTL management than they would have with the J&J parent company. Although J&J denies that the creation of the subsidiary is related to the baby powder suits, the company is facing nearly 40,000 lawsuits alleging that its baby powders and other talc-based products contain asbestos, a carcinogenic substance. Evidence against J&J is growing, and thousands of individuals, predominantly women who have developed ovarian cancer, have announced that J&J did not warn them of the potential risks of asbestos contaminating the baby powder. Additionally, the March 2020 move to discontinue sales of their famous talc-based baby powder from the North American market paints a negative picture of the company. To counter this, J&J is denying that their baby powder contains carcinogens and continues to claim that the split has nothing to do with the suits. A 2018 investigation by Reuters, however, uncovered that the company was aware of asbestos in its talc-based products for several years but chose to keep the information undisclosed. This evidence, which includes internal documents between company leaders and other forms of verification of J&J’s knowledge, has aided in furnishing favorable lawsuit verdicts for the plaintiffs. The push to establish LTL Management, which would inherit most of J&J’s baby powder lawsuits, can be seen as a strategic move to retain funds for the parent company. Almost immediately after LTL Management’s inception, the subsidiary company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, a costly and long process in which the debtor is able to negotiate with creditors for the terms of the loan without having to liquidate their assets. Even though J&J is headquartered in New Brunswick, New Jersey, the corporation chose to split into two companies in Texas. The state has a controversial law called the “Texas Two-Step” that at its core is a restructuring method that companies can use to safeguard themselves in cases of mass tort litigation. While splitting into two companies in Texas, LTL Management chose to convert into a North Carolina Limited Liability Corporation (LLC), a business structure that safeguards its owners from personal responsibility for the company’s liabilities or debts, in order to file for bankruptcy. While many other states such as New Jersey do not have such archaic law which would most likely make the lawsuit much harder on the company, the Chapter 11 protection law in North Carolina momentarily pauses litigation against the bankrupt entity. Not only is the well-known pharmaceutical company undergoing lawsuits and creating a separate subsidiary for its baby powder, Johnson & Johnson is also separately splitting into two different companies: one focusing on consumer health products and over-the-counter drugs, and the other focusing on pharmaceuticals, medical instruments, and vaccines. While the company denies that the influx of lawsuits are the reasons for the company-wide split, which include the United State’s nationwide opioid crisis and the sunscreen suit involving Costco Wholesale, many legal scholars suspect that one of the motivations behind such a decision was because of the social and legal reckoning the company is currently facing. For context, J&J is one of the three leading drug distributors that are getting sued for their role in the United State’s nationwide opioid crisis. Over half a million people died from this crisis between 1999 and 2019, while 2020 ended with 69,000 deaths due to opioid overdose, a number likely aggravated by the pandemic. While most believe that there are a multitude of players to blame for the uptick in deaths as a result of the opioid crisis, blame continues to be shifted from manufacturers to distributors, from doctors prescribing the drugs to pharmacists filling prescriptions, etc. While progressing, these lawsuits do not seem to be reaching an end anytime soon. For most, Johnson & Johnson is a trusted brand whose products can be easily found in any local store. The many lawsuits the company is facing, however, raises questions about consumer safety and whether regulations of consumer products of private companies are too lax. While the public has confidence in the products of established labels, the multitude of lawsuits filed against J&J’s products are causing consumers to question the sanctity of such brands.

< Back Menton’s Senior Citizens Won’t Bite: Go Talk to Them! Bronwen Sutcliffe Shortly after arriving in Menton this August, I got the sense that the town’s older residents are not particularly fond of Sciences Pistes. For many students, this might not come as such a shock. After Integration Week, complaints echoed through the Old Town. As one woman eloquently put it, “Sciences Po drove us crazy until 3 in the morning !” The objections vary in subtlety, from frustrated sighs and muttered grievances to water-pouring incidents on the heads of unsuspecting Le Rétro-goers. The Old Town especially seems like a hotspot of animosity, being the nucleus of Sciences Pistes’ parties, protests and student life. Students’ feeling of unwantedness is all the more understandable after last spring’s barrage of reputation-tarnishing headlines. The campus was publicly denounced as “out-of-control” and even slated for closure by current far-right National Rally mayoral candidate Alexandra Masson. Multiple newspapers from Le Figaro to Nice-Matin seized on the controversy with a range of less-than-flattering qualifiers for Sciences Pistes’ “radicalism.” As a 1A, I didn’t experience the controversy first-hand. However, a few mildly unpleasant interactions with locals this September left me somewhat disheartened. I sought the feeling of belonging here and found myself longing for the effortless, unquestioned interactions of my life back home. But now, having mostly settled in, I can say that my first impressions were mistaken. Since then, everyday interactions with locals — especially sweet mamies and papis at the café or the supermarket — often become the highlight of my day. From discussing my home country with eager listeners to spontaneously learning a Mentonnaise dance with a troupe of senior citizens on the Promenade du Soleil, my fondness for this town has only grown. Curious to find out what Menton’s older residents really think of Sciences Pistes, I asked around. Many couldn’t offer a clear answer. Why? They felt they simply don’t interact with students enough to form a judgment. However, a group of three older Mentonnais offered some reassuring words. When asked whether they see Sciences Po as an asset to Menton, they replied emphatically: yes! They see it as promoting education and rejuvenating the town. As for the noise? Not a bother (though they admit they live further from campus). To them, noise is a sign of life, the youthful energy they remember from their own younger days. They also shared an appreciation for students’ initiatives, recalling how in 2020 a group of Sciences Pistes took action to provide delivery services for vulnerable community members. Attending Sciences Po’s 20th anniversary spectacle and seeing how many locals showed up only confirms this for me. Students and staff alike have been reaching out to the community and renewing public interest in the campus. As a 1A student who didn’t experience the heat of last spring, this article might come across as naive. Whether summer break and the 20th anniversary festivities de-escalated any animosities, I can’t say for sure. Yet experience and hope lead me to believe that resentment towards Sciences Pistes is exceptional amidst many welcoming and curious locals. We are on the right path — Sciences Pistes don’t need to change to win the approval of locals. They simply need to continue being empathetic, engaged and lively, taking every opportunity to share the ummah spirit with the town. On an individual level, we can continue building these bridges by reaching out and assuming our place in the Menton community without hesitation. So, the next time you’re in the line at the store, make a friend! Photo Source: Rebecca Canton Previous Next

What is it that we are really buying when we adventure ourselves through the lysergic supermarket aisles which symmetrically display layers of colorful plastic and polished tropical fruits? Are we just undertaking a routine task, unworthy of our attention, or are we entering a space of identity-creation and manipulation? < Back Supermaketmania: Shiny Plastic and Constructed Personalities By Margherita Cordellini January 31, 2023 The day is about to end and you do not feel like going home yet. You just got off from work or from a study session in the library and you need a mediator to soften the shift from an uncomfortable wooden chair to bed. It ought to be something that rewards you for having pulled through a seemingly endless day but also something that does not spoil you because you did nothing special, only your job. As you mechanically pass masses of other tired workers and students, your peripheral vision catches sight of a flower-shaped neon sign that rises above a promising banner: “20% sale on selected products.” You know what you will encounter if you walk through the door: a maze of shining, perfectly ordered and rigorously partitioned aisles, which, albeit rarely changing, always disclose new mysteries. You immediately find yourself in the food department, contemplating a myriad of colors, shapes and textures which are supposed to be only accessories, only the casings of what you really want, but that inexplicably signify something more. Filling up your shopping cart with bright yellow, noisy crisps packages and promising images printed on orange juice cartons is not only a temporary solution to a harsh monotonous day but a repetitive choice through which you, and many others, find meaning and reinvent yourself. The contemporary modalities of purchasing fully embrace capitalistic values. The most evident among them is, perhaps, individualism. The heterogeneity of products and brands combined with targeted advertising suggests that there is space for everyone’s identity and invites each person to select products according to a certain congruence. You can choose to be a sporty person — and even become one — if you buy protein bars instead of biscuits. You can appear emancipated from your European background and emanate international vibes if, according to your shopping basket and your kitchen shelves, you are passionate about oatmeal and peanut butter. What this means is that supermarkets are purchasing spaces in which people seek not only to nourish but also to define themselves. In his book “Simulations and Simulacra,” the postmodernist philosopher Jean Baudrillard understands commodities sold in supermarkets as hypercommodities; to our eyes they do not exist as objects but as an intricate net of symbols delivered by advertisements, media and consumerist culture. Baudrillard would thus affirm that we are so bombarded by images of what, for example, an apple signifies (synonym of a healthy lifestyle, dietary restrictions and self-discipline) that apples cannot be said to exist anymore, having been replaced by an ensemble of culturally and socially manufactured images tied to them. It might appear as an abstruse theory, but it shapes the way we process information more often than we think. Consider this passage from Sally Rooney’s novel “Beautiful World Where Are You”: “On his way out of the shop, in front of the fresh fruit display, he paused. Alice was standing there looking at apples, lifting the apples one after another and examining them for defects.” An English-speaking extra-terrestrial deprived of any cultural or social background to whom somebody just explained what supermarkets are and what purpose they serve, would probably infer from this excerpt that Alice is so fond of apples that she wants to make sure to savor them fully or that she seeks the best bang for her buck. This is the most logical conclusion to draw knowing that supermarkets are places where people buy products according to their desires, needs and budgetary constraints. Yet, I highly doubt that this would be the first intuition of a person whose socialization took place in a 21st-century capitalist country and who has been sufficiently exposed to consumerist culture and digital spaces. These last two elements promote a fixation with certain gendered images of the body that privilege slim silhouettes for girls and toned ones for boys. Therefore, it would be impossible not to contemplate the possibility that Alice might be affected by this schizophrenia around somatic features, “healthy” lifestyles and normative Instagram posts studding selfcare pages. In our eyes, Alice, culturally and socially influenced, is examining apples to become a certain kind of person. Hence, in Baudrillard’s words, hypercommodities are made to test ourselves. The self-service dimension characterizing supermarkets gives us the illusory impression of agency and control, whereas, in reality, a supermarket is a space of manipulation of man by products. This conversion from real to hyperreal does not only apply to alimentary products but to the totality of advertised items. However, the food compartment of supermarkets is a particularly interesting case study. Unlike other essential products, e.g. clothes, food is, when sold, often invisible to our eyes, being wrapped by layers of packaging. The blue plastic of Oreos and the thick milk cartons sprinkled with representations of smiling cows are supposed to be mere containers whose relevance is insignificant compared to the contents. Yet, research has shown the incredible influence that these have on consumers purchasing choices. As Schifferstein and others pointed out in their work “Influence of package design on the dynamics of multisensory and emotional food experience,” today the products’ encasement is intended to be a decisive factor. Nowadays, they explain, countless brands offer strikingly similar products: targeting the tastes of the consumers is not enough for companies. It is necessary to make the item stand out from the analogous others; the features of the wrapping material are, together with other elements such as competitive price setting, essential to this. Their research was built on the premise that, while choosing which packed food to purchase, consumers’ sensory experience is vital. Through empirical experiments, they unsurprisingly found that, if people are put in front of a supermarket shelf full of identical products of different brands the most important sense is sight. Betina Piqueras-Fiszman and Charles Spence specify that among all the visible elements characterizing a packed product (size and shape of the container, the size of opening, etc...), color is one of the most decisive factors. This was proved while conducting an experiment on potato chips. Participants were asked to taste and identify the flavor of crisps served from a package whose color corresponds to another variety of potato chips — salt and vinegar chips were served from a blue package (commonly corresponding to cheese and onion crisps) and not a green one. According to the results, the majority of participants were fooled by the wrong color association and failed to recognize the right flavor profile, despite having uncompromised taste buds and being familiar with the crisp brand’s various flavors. The power of colors is so strong that it made it impossible for a significant part of the test group to identify the taste that they knew well. Therefore, what is it that we are really buying? The food product or the shiny plastic packages that unconsciously attract us? The answer probably lies somewhere at the intersection between these two elements. Due to psychological biases, cultural and social influences, we are never buying only food when we go grocery shopping. Attracted by the aesthetics of a supposedly irrelevant casing and eager to build a desired version of ourselves, our experiences in supermarkets are far more complex than we deem and deserve to be further inquired into.

British imperialism sharpens into battles of tic-tac-toe; Durkheim’s grasps at sociological greatness darken into pages stained with doodles. The ocean beside me leaves white trails of foam and my folly, churning boredom and desperation so violently I might drown. You guessed it - I’ve been in the petit amphithéâtre for about six hours too long.  < Back Foam and Folly: A Need to Restructure the Class Schedule at Sciences Po Menton By Marly Fisher November 30, 2023 British imperialism sharpens into battles of tic-tac-toe; Durkheim’s grasps at sociological greatness darken into pages stained with doodles. The ocean beside me leaves white trails of foam and my folly, churning boredom and desperation so violently I might drown. You guessed it - I’ve been in the petit amphithéâtre for about six hours too long. I often leave Sciences Po lectures unsure of the time and anything I’ve just been taught. For weeks, I’ve been worried that the fault is my own, but can we really be expected to be attentive for upwards of three hours at a time? Is Sciences Po’s course schedule structured effectively? In pursuit of an answer, I began by asking other university students around the United States about their course-load. What I found was disappointing but not surprising. Their class hours amounted to an average of fifteen per week, with most first years having twelve credits - or four classes each semester. Instead of midterms, finals, and presentations, they have regular assignments and essays on top of summative assessments. All were appalled that my class hours were in the twenties — “How do you have time to study?” they asked. “Do you have a life?” The standard course load for a first-year at a U.S. university is between 12 and 15 hours, with a maximum of 18 credit hours allowed. At many universities in the UK, contact time is even less; for an English BA at King's College London, there are only four hours of seminars and four hours of lectures each week. At Cambridge, lectures typically last only around 50 minutes. Comparatively, the standard class load at Sciences Po hovers around 22 hours per week (many have even more if they are taking multiple language courses,) and the shortest class time is two hours long. I examined more scholarly sources next, only to reaffirm my sneaking suspicion that more class time is not always more effective. In 1996, in a journal called the National Teaching & Learning Forum, two professors from Indiana University, Joan Middendorf and Alan Kalish ,found that long lectures can result in detrimental effects on human attention and retention. They cited a 1976 study that detailed the ebbs and flows of students’ focus during a typical class period. They found that, first, students need a three-to-five minute period of settling down (which, I suppose, is naturally provided to us students that operate on Menton time.) This time was followed by just 10 to 18 minutes of optimal focus. Then, no matter how thrilling the lecture or how powerful the rhetoric, their attention lapsed. The students would “lose it.” While attention would eventually return, it would be in ever-briefer three to four minute spurts. Furthermore, Middendorf and Kalish cited a 1985 study that tested students on their fact recall from a 20-minute presentation. In fact, students remembered far more of what they’d heard at the very beginning of the lecture - by the 15-minute mark, they’d mostly zoned out. A few swift clicks on the calculator reveals that there are 16 fifteen-minute increments inside a four hour lecture. Most lecturers here offer us just one to two breaks within that time. If students are unable to remember facts from more than fifteen minutes ago, how can we be expected to retain complex ideas from hours ago? Most, if not all, students concur. “No fraction of this education system is effective,” lamented a Sciences Po Menton student on the way out of her last class of the day. “As fascinating as I can find the subjects presented in the lectures, it is undeniable that in every case, my attention span dwindles almost immediately an hour into it,” said another. Many agree that information retention is even more difficult with a lack of accountability in the form of more frequent assessments. For a group of students yearning to achieve political greatness, it seems that most are only achieving new records of the fastest Mini Crossword solving time. If we aim to revolutionize the world, we must revolutionize our way of learning first. Maybe it’s in the form of shorter, more frequent classes. Perhaps we should abandon the lecture style altogether. But one thing is for certain: someone in the class of 2026 will go on to be a marvelous NYT game creator.

“If you want to eliminate values from past societies, you have to eliminate the artists.”, reflects Prince Norodom Sirivudh of Cambodia, in the 2014 documentary “Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia’s Lost Rock and Roll”, recounting the systematic erasure of music from Cambodian society under the brutal regime of the Khmer Rouge in the 1970s. < Back “When They Tell You to Sing, You Just Sing.”: The Khmer Rouge’s Musical Manipulation of Cambodian Society Loowit Morrison November 10, 2025 “If you want to eliminate values from past societies, you have to eliminate the artists.”, reflects Prince Norodom Sirivudh of Cambodia, in the 2014 documentary “Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia’s Lost Rock and Roll”, recounting the systematic erasure of music from Cambodian society under the brutal regime of the Khmer Rouge in the 1970s. “[A]rtists are influential. Artists are close to the people,” says Sirivudh. Music is inherently political, used for centuries as a mechanism of control and mobilization. Throughout history, music has shaped public opinion and regime legitimacy by both producing and limiting access to music. From 1955 until 1975, Cambodia’s music experienced what is known as its “Golden Era.” Thanks to increasing global communication, the rise of clubs, bars and nightclubs, and the United States’ Armed Forces’ radio , Cambodian music became infused with Western, Latin and Afro-Cuban pop influences, creating a distinct style of modern music. Traditional Cambodian styles were electrified; garage and surf rock took root in Cambodia’s art scene. Stars such as Sinn Sisamouth, Ros Sereysothea and Pan Ron gained massive popularity. Cambodia’s musical backbone was not only thriving — it was vital to the nation’s social life. A mere 17 years after gaining independence from France, Cambodia entered into a period of civil war. In 1970, an American-backed coup ousted Prince Norodom Sihanouk’s regime as part of their larger war against communism. Sihanouk fled to Beijing, becoming a figurehead for the rising Khmer Rouge, a group of communist insurgents. The years that followed were marked by tensions between communist guerrilla fighters and Lon Nol’s anti-communist government. 1973 saw massive devastation at the hands of U.S. bombardment. The civil war came to an end in April 1975, when Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge toppled Lon Nol’s government and seized the capital, Phnom Penh. 1975 was declared “Year Zero” by Pol Pot’s regime and the country was renamed “Democratic Kampuchea”. The regime, stretching from 1975–1979, was marked by a radical strategy of agrarian communism and strict isolation. Civil and property rights, religious practice and Western influence were completely eradicated, and urban citizens were forced into the countryside to labor in agricultural projects. Any intellectuals, artists or elites were sent to work or killed. Cambodian society was effectively “decapitated.” As part of the eradication of artists, musicians were among the first targets of the Khmer Rouge. All music, other than propaganda of the Khmer Rouge, was banned in an effort to eliminate “old” identities linked to Western culture. At the time, Cambodian musical culture was deeply influenced by the French colonial period, beginning in the 19th century. French colonizers brought Western instruments and genres to Cambodia, infusing Cambodian music with Western designs. The Khmer Rouge, in opposition to anything Western, sought to destroy this Westernized musical identity and create a “new,” yet staunchly traditional, Khmer identity. Although the majority of existing music and musicians were destroyed by Pol Pot’s regime, part of the strategy to mobilize the new Khmer identity was through music. The Khmer Rouge’s re-education program rearranged traditional hymns and melodies, such as basak and mohori , to serve their ideologies and push forth the new agrarian society. Despite the fact that most musicians were targeted in the regime’s early days, others were recruited by the Khmer Rouge to serve as regime musicians. Touch Chhatta recounts that the only “reason I survived was because I knew how to play music.” Chhatta was enlisted by the Khmer Rouge to serve in a band that played at meetings, at which music was played with only traditional instruments, including the khim , tro , and takhe . Chhatta describes that at the beginning of the regime, he purposefully memorized the propaganda music, maximizing his utility to the regime and thus his chances of survival. Children were also recruited by the Khmer Rouge as musicians. “We were like a blank piece of paper. When they tell you to sing, you just sing,” describes Chhom Charvin, who was a child singer under the regime. Easily persuaded and indoctrinated, children were the perfect candidates for the Khmer Rouge’s new musical strategy. “Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll” presents footage of the Khmer Rouge’s child singers in a performance, reenacting farmers, chanting “the day is hot and dry / smoke is coming from the earth / but we can take it / we are resilient / we serve Angkar until results are produced.” Undying loyalty to serving the new, agricultural and communist state is conveyed curtly through lyrics, fashioning a new emblem for the nation of the laboring and nationalistic child. Music was also used as a mobilizing tool. Thida Buth, who was a child during the regime, remembers that in the work camps, the national anthem would blare over the speakers each morning, at 4am. The first lyrics are “the bright red blood spilled in the lands of kampuchea / our motherland / the blood of our good workers and farmers / of our revolutionary soldiers / of both men and women / we will make our Motherland / the most prosperous, magnificent, wonderful!”. Every day in the Democratic Kampuchea began with music -– propaganda music. Music which was manufactured specifically to promote the idea of a new nation. The musical construction of Democratic Kampuchea contains a dual nature: one of radical return to tradition yet a complete transformation of society. The Khmer Rouge attempted to erase the existing musical culture in Cambodia while simultaneously promoting a musical culture that was ‘traditional’, thus blurring the line between “new” and “old”. This phenomenon highlights the contradictory nature of the Khmer Rouge regime, which attempted to use old, traditional Khmer music to promote a new, revolutionized identity, which in and of itself reflected a traditional past. Whether restoring an “old” or creating a “new” identity, it is clear that music was a critical tool employed by the Khmer Rouge to carry out their transformation of society. Despite the supposed “eradication” of music in Democratic Kampuchea, it was frequently mobilized by the Khmer Rouge to legitimize their regime and build the foundation of a new national identity. Music, as any form of art, is fundamental to the skeleton of society. Music transmits values, histories and identities; its mobilization by elites in society has the power to structurally, radically reshape what a country is, how it functions and what it stands for. Despite the weaponization of music by Pol Pot’s regime, when the Khmer Rouge fell on January 7, 1979, music was what revived Cambodian society. Sieng Vanthy, a Cambodian singer, was one of the first to return to the capital city of Phnom Penh, which had been emptied at the start of the regime. With much of the nation hesitant to return to the city, Vanthy describes that she sang “Oh, Phnom Penh” on the radio, in an attempt to reassure the displaced that it was safe to return. “Oh, Phnom Penh” seeps with yearning, nostalgia and memories of a place once called home. The first lyrics state, “Oh, Phnom Penh / For three years / I never stopped missing you / We were separated / and my heart was broken.”, and later, the song says, “the Cambodian soul lives on / Oh, Phnom Penh / I meet you again.” While music may have been a tool of manipulation in the Khmer Rouge regime, it was also a unifying factor. Music is what brought Cambodians back together to collectively rebuild their nation physically and culturally. In spite of their efforts, the Khmer Rouge was not able to abolish the musical roots that run through Cambodia. Music continues to flourish, decades after the country was musically sanitized. Dengue Fever, a band formed in the U.S. in 2001, brought Cambodian music back to the global forefront. Lauren Yee’s 2016 play, “Cambodian Rock Band,” recounts the story of a Cambodian American woman and her father, a survivor of the genocide, exploring a history of music and memory. The revival of music in Cambodia is a testament to the nation’s ability to overcome a difficult past and to their cultural resilience. Photo Source: Emile Gsell, Picryl

Although it has been several decades since the publishing of this book and despite the groundbreaking effects it has had on decolonial movements, many of Said’s observations are still the reality in the society of the twenty-first century. Even today, people still judge the Middle East and North Africa without ever having studied it and not knowing anything about it. So, how has the relationship between the Occident and the Orient evolved since the publication of Edward Said’s Orientalism? < Back Edward Said in the Twenty-First Century Viktorie Voriskova March 31, 2025 In 1978, Edward Said published Orientalism , a groundbreaking analysis exploring the relationship between the Western world (the Occident) and the Middle East and North Africa (the Orient) . In this work, Said argues that the West constructed an exotic, stereotypical, and often demeaning image of the East to justify its colonization and political domination over the region in terms of a “civilizing mission.” Said’s work challenged racist assumptions, strongly influenced postcolonial studies and started numerous political and sociological debates that continue to this day . Although it has been several decades since the publishing of this book and despite the groundbreaking effects it has had on decolonial movements, many of Said’s observations are still the reality in the society of the twenty-first century. Even today, people still judge the Middle East and North Africa without ever having studied it and not knowing anything about it. So, how has the relationship between the Occident and the Orient evolved since the publication of Edward Said’s Orientalism ? One of the most enduring forms of Orientalism is Western fascination with travel to the MENA region. From colonial-era explorers to modern Instagram influencers, there is a long history of Western visitors seeking an "authentic" Eastern experience. However, these experiences are often superficial and shaped by preconceived notions rather than reality. For example, many Western tourists buy traditional local clothing to “blend in” during their travels, despite not understanding its cultural significance. Additionally, travellers often draw conclusions about an entire country based on its tourist attractions, ignoring the complexities of daily life and local perspectives. Furthermore, travel to Middle Eastern countries remains relatively affordable for Western tourists, particularly in former French colonies like Morocco, which broke tourism records in 2024. These destinations are especially attractive to people who want to “explore,” but within a budget and close to their homes. Access to most countries of North Africa is very easy for most European citizens—there is no visa requirement for them. Additionally, shared language, especially for French travellers, makes their vacation even more comfortable, allowing them to avoid having to step outside of their comfort zone, be it financially, linguistically or culturally, while still being able to claim that they went on an “exploratory” holiday, since they travelled to Africa. Despite the popularity of some of these places and them very much not being off the beaten path, these places are still perceived as “niche” and “exotic.” This is further reinforced by the fact that many tourists stick to highly curated experiences in Marrakech, Cairo or Dubai, rarely going beyond the controlled environments of resorts and marketplaces during their “explorations.” This whole experience of a spectacle mirrors 19th-century Orientalist travel narratives in which European explorers chose to go to the Middle East since they saw it as something both alluring and dangerous, romanticizing its beauty while emphasizing its supposed inferiority, as people still do today. Another form of modern Orientalism is the global fashion trends and social media. The fascination with “ethnic” fashion has become widespread. Wearing so-called "Oriental" clothing is considered stylish, although it is cultural appropriation rather than appreciation. Instagram and other social media platforms support and popularize these trends even further, playing a major role in the popularization of these trends. For instance, influencers often wear flowing kaftans, harem pants, or Indian bindis as part of festival fashion, detaching these items from their historical and cultural contexts. Interestingly, we can observe a similar trend with Slavic fashion—it has gained popularity not only on social media but even in globally popular chain stores, with traditional embroidered blouses becoming mainstream fashion items, despite having deep cultural and historical roots, which go unacknowledged within this appropriation. As with travel and “explorations,” this trend reflects a broader historical pattern. Just as 19th-century Orientalist painters like Jean-Léon Gérôme and Eugène Delacroix depicted Eastern women in luxurious yet decontextualized settings, today’s fashion industry does the same with Eastern aesthetics for Western consumers. Lastly, Orientalism remains in modern society to this day, even in the realm of politics, although it has a slightly shifted role. The traditional Orientalist stereotypes made the “East” seem exotic and backward; modern political discourse shows the region as unstable and full of religious extremism and oppression. Western media often focuses on negative aspects of Middle Eastern politics, ignoring local perspectives and any developments that have taken place. For example, Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 initiative, which is an ambitious plan to modernize the country’s economy and social policies, has been widely criticized by Western analysts. While many of the critiques are valid, pointing out the large amount of underpaid labour which has to labour on the construction of many of these ambitious projects, others stem from long-standing Orientalist views that assume the region is incapable of progress, therefore describing the project as completely impossible or going as far as stating that it is a lie. Similarly, the UAE's labor policies, though controversial and still oppressive, have improved over the years, yet the country is often judged more harshly than Western nations with similar labor issues. All this goes hand in hand with the persistent preconception of Islam. Many Western observers critique Islamic traditions without any real understanding of the religion. This extends to debates on women’s rights, where Muslim women are often portrayed as oppressed, ignoring the diversity of experiences and agency within Islamic societies. While Orientalism has shifted in form, it remains deeply embedded in Western perceptions of the MENA region. Today, Orientalist attitudes are often linked to Islamophobia and fears of terrorism and migration, rather than simply seeing the region as exotic and backward. Although Said described a discourse that framed the East as exotic and primitive, today’s Orientalism rather links the Middle Eastern and North African identities with terrorism, migration and religious extremism. The underlying assumption remains the same: the East is still seen as "other" and needs Western intervention or critique. Photo source: Ema Nevrelova

Civilians have been demonstrating in the wake of the October 25 military coup. Though the military has reached a deal to release the Prime Minister and reinstate a technocratic cabinet, protests are ongoing. < Back Protests Against Military Coup Ongoing in Sudan By Cameron Sterling November 29, 2021 On October 25, a military backed-coup led by Abdel Fattah al-Burhan dissolved the power- sharing agreement between civilians and military leaders in the wake of Sudan’s 2019 revolution. According to Al Jazeera, al-Burhan’s coup was declared a state of emergency, dissolving the sovereignty council and transitional ministers, suspending work on the Constitution, and relieving governors of their positions. The military arrested a large group of government supporters and put Civilian Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok on house arrest. In an interview with Vice News, retired general Fath al-Rahmen Muhyiddin claimed that the military executed the coup because the people have failed to see improvements in living standards since Bashir’s time in power. He continued that stagnation is evident of a failed system, which the military aims to fix. The October 25 coup did not come as a surprise for most Sudanese nationals; the military had attempted a similar operation on September 21, 2021, which many viewed as a practice run for October. Since this date, many civil society organizations have been demonstrating in fear of return to an authoritarian regime similar to that of Omar Bashir, the dictator ousted in 2019. Demonstrations have increased in scale and number since October 25, led by civilian groups such as Forces of Freedom and Change and the Sudanese Professionals Association. As Nazik Awad of Open Democracy wrote, these protests are uniquely grassroots, with organization coming primarily from resistance committees, youth groups, women’s groups, professional unions, and political parties. They have an impressively far reach in part due to the use of Rendok , a street language originating from rural migrants in Khartoum. The adoption of this language has engaged a class of people not usually included in civil society. The Coordinated Resistance Committees, one of the largest organizations, has established that it has seven demands and is looking to engage in civil disobedience until they are met. These demands are the following: Overthrowing the military coup and handing over full power to civilians. Handing over all members of the coup council to urgent and immediate trials on charges of the military coup. No dialogue and no negotiation with any member of the coup military council and all members of the security committee and the rejection of international inter-conversation. Dissolve all armed militias and reform the armed people’s forces according to a national belief that aims to protect the borders of the country and the rights of the people in freedom, peace, and justice. The removal of the systemic forces from the political process permanently, by criminalizing and preventing the practice of politics by the military. Formation of all structures of the transitional authority in a specific period, under the supervision of relevant professional and academic bodies. Total independence of the sovereignty of the Sudanese state in regards to all economic, political and security decisions. Though many members of the public support these demands and there is mass mobilization against the coup, Sudan’s future is unclear. Though it has denied it, the military has carried out violent crackdowns on peaceful protests, shooting tear gas and live rounds into crowds. As of November 21, the death toll has reached 40. As evidenced by Vice News, protestors and organizers also face the risk of arbitrary arrest and beatings by the police. Though, it seems that there is a degree of stability on the horizon; the Guardian claims that Prime Minister Hamdok has been released. He made a new deal with the military to establish a new technocratic cabinet, supported by the UN and United States, with the aim of restoring order to the nation. It is imperative to note, however, that most key resistance committees oppose this deal. They have vowed to continue to protest until a government is established without the involvement of the military.

Turkey’s main opposition party is facing a post-election reckoning in the run-up to a leadership race that could radically alter the course of Turkish politics. The upcoming 38th regular congress of the Republican People’s Party will see incumbent Chairman Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu defend his position against a gamut of fresh faces, all of whom have pledged to reform the party in the hopes of ending a string of losses spanning 13 years and 10 election cycles. < Back Turkish Opposition at a Crossroads with Leadership Race Looming By Yasmin Abbasoy October 31, 2023 Turkey’s main opposition party is facing a post-election reckoning in the run-up to a leadership race that could radically alter the course of Turkish politics. The upcoming 38th regular congress of the Republican People’s Party will see incumbent Chairman Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu defend his position against a gamut of fresh faces, all of whom have pledged to reform the party in the hopes of ending a string of losses spanning 13 years and 10 election cycles. The Kılıçdaroğlu-led opposition bloc found itself plunged into turmoil after a humiliating defeat in the second round of the presidential elections in May. Their loss came at a time when any other party but President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s ruling Justice and Development Party would have collapsed: the country faced a disastrous economic crisis and the widely-publicized mishandling of a catastrophic earthquake. This was expected to turn voters away from Erdoğan and into the arms of the opposition coalition. Yet, the incumbent strongman walked away with an uncontestable victory, guaranteeing a further five years in power. This defeat was unlike any other in that it signaled a true turning point in the political discourse surrounding the opposition, chiefly because the aforementioned state of the ruling party had led to rhetoric from the opposition, which, in hindsight, can only be described as irresponsibly optimistic. Buoyed by the 2019 local elections, which saw a majority of the big cities in Turkey fall under opposition leadership and the political baptism-by-fire of current party heavyweights Ekrem İmamoğlu and Manur Yavaş, the mayors of Istanbul and Ankara, respectively, the opposition hoped to make use of the revitalized passions of voters to oust Erdoğan definitively. Their hopes were dashed, however, by an unfocused campaign marred by internal and external criticism that left Kılıçdaroğlu on the back foot more often than not. The poor communication and mismanagement of expectations observed during the campaign persisted into both election nights, with voters relying on periodic announcements from the ever-popular İmamoğlu and Yavaş, who often contradicted themselves from one statement to another. This culminated in an acceptance of defeat at the eleventh hour, a demoralizing statement from an opposition that had been assuring its voters that it was winning – contrary to all available data – until the very last minute. Voters were, of course, angry, but with Erdoğan back on his throne, there was only one place for this anger to go. And so, all eyes turned to Kılıçdaroğlu. A quiet man in his seventies, Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu is known affectionately among his young supporters as “Grandpa Kemal,” owing to his gray hair, old-fashioned wire glasses, and gentle demeanor. He has been head of the main opposition for 13 years, having taken advantage of a sex tape scandal involving the previous chairman to crystallize scattered support within his party into a successful bid for leadership. He has enjoyed a serene tenure, with only two somewhat serious challenges against his leadership. This placidity means he fades into the background next to the charismatic and colorful Erdoğan and also fades from the minds of voters who in Turkey are attracted to nothing more than a good bit of theater from their politicians. Seen as lacking in charisma since the beginning of his tenure, a compounding string of election losses has done nothing for his popularity or credibility. His last-minute announcement as the coalition candidate for the presidential elections brought about a wave of incredulity among the public, with theories abounding that the delayed announcement was designed to temper potential reactions. Popular figures within the party, such as İmamoğlu and Yavaş, were sidelined, ostensibly after intense negotiation with coalition partners and on semi-valid grounds. İmamoğlu’s pending trial could have seen him being banned from politics and thus out of the race during the campaign's peak, while Yavaş’s nationalist past was seen as a risk that did not measure up against the potential support from Kurdish voters. Kılıçdaroğlu’s selection as the candidate up against Erdoğan precipitated a significant shift in the rhetoric surrounding the election, which opposition officials now tried to transform into a sort of referendum: Turkey is either with Erdoğan or against him. Kılıçdaroğlu was no longer a candidate but a figurehead for the idea of a post-Erdoğan Turkey. Public favor was hard-won, however, and Kılıçdaroğlu consistently occupied last place in election polls, often lagging behind İmamoğlu by over ten percentage points. This provoked much debate about Kılıçdaroğlu’s suitability as a candidate and the legitimacy of his ambition. These enduring tensions within the opposition coalition boiled over shortly before the first round, as the leader of the nationalist İyi Party announced that she could not accept Kılıçdaroğlu as a coalition candidate. She accused Kılıçdaroğlu of ‘koltuk sevdası’, literally meaning ‘being in love with his seat’ and announced her support for the two mayors as candidates. After a veritable media circus, which included multiple highly-publicized official visits to both party headquarters on the leaders’ part, the İyi Party was eventually brought back into the fold. However, the whole episode further showcased the clashes within the seemingly unified opposition. Kılıçdaroğlu came out of the situation with some goodwill, owed to his delicate touch in handling opposing forces within his coalition. This goodwill would evaporate into nothingness in the eventual aftermath of the elections, which in the nation's eyes, proved decisively that Kılıçdaroğlu was not the right man. His post-election behavior further sank his image, as his response to his 11th consecutive failure was to unequivocally reject the notion that he would resign, replace his executive board, and post nothing but tweets congratulating various and sundry on their victories in sports and so on. It now seems that Kılıçdaroğlu must finally face the consequences of 13 years of perceived failures. The party apparatus that exists outside of his own close circle has sprung into action–headlines were made in July when a meeting led by İmamoğlu, whose candidacy for the İstanbul election was supported exclusively by Kılıçdaroğlu, and attended by party higher-ups, was leaked on Youtube. The topic was how to force an extraordinary congress to oust Kılıçdaroğlu. While ineffective, these plans represent the internal political situation: ambitious upstarts have sensed blood in the water and are more than prepared to bite. In the aftermath of this small-scale crisis, İmamoğlu and Yavaş have, somehow, been convinced to stand down: their position in the big cities is perhaps more strategically important than a position as chairman. For now, the only significant candidate in a field of more than six is longtime member of parliament and parliamentary deputy group leader Özgür Özel. Known to be charismatic and with a gift for public speaking, he was firmly entrenched in Kılıçdaroğlu’s camp until just a few weeks ago, when he announced his candidacy and declared that his party had to change “from tip to toe.” Since then, he has soundly criticized the handling of the election and the aftermath by top party brass, though most campaigning seems to have taken place internally. Internal sources indicate that two separate factions, one which supports Kılıçdaroğlu and another fittingly named ‘the changemakers’, have formed. Their existence was made clear at the Istanbul provincial ordinary congress, which took place on Oct. 8 and saw a candidate supported by party headquarters run against one of aforementioned “changemakers.” It has been widely interpreted as a kind of trial run of the actual congress to take place in November. Local media reported a tense atmosphere, with intermittent interruptions to speeches for chanting both in favor of and against Kılıçdaroğlu. The congress also saw violent brawls and the eventual walkout of mayor İmamoğlu in protest of incitative statements in some speeches. Even so, the congress ended favorably for the changemakers with a solid victory for their candidate. Party officials told media that the conception of Kılıçdaroğlu and his entourage as an unshakeable entity at the head of the party had been destroyed and that they expected those still on the fence to now join their faction in the voting, which they hoped would end Kılıçdaroğlu’s reign. If Kılıçdaroğlu does lose his grip on power, it will be difficult to interpret this shift as anything but a net positive. He has long been smeared for the gentle nature that he carries into every part of his work, but now he has run out of even the scant sympathy this image afforded him. Those who have taken off their election-tinted goggles now see him as unforgivably mediocre rather than carefully moderate and worst of all, power-hungry and even dictatorial. Turkey’s political culture, or what has become of it in the past 20 years under Erdoğan’s rule, has contaminated even the opposition of the country: Kılıçdaroğlu and his retinue hold, as of now, unprecedented and uninterrupted power over the party whilst believing that elections are insufficient to bring them to account. Erdoğan too has grown habituated to a passive opposition led by his longtime rival, who he is aware that he outperforms. Kılıçdaroğlu’s legacy of continued failure is a chain around the neck of the opposition, for which this may be the last chance to reposition itself as a formidable bulwark against the rise of a one-party state. The future of Turkish politics hinges on the choices made in the upcoming leadership race, and only time will reveal the path that lies ahead.

Art encapsulates emotions whether it be joy, pain, love or anger. This encapsulation of emotion serves as a catalyst for conversation — conversations that can lead to de-mystification and promote open-mindedness.  < Back Palestinian Cinema: An Impetus for Productive Conversations — An Article for “Avante Garde Lawyers” (Part 1) By Sarina Soleymani February 29, 2024 Art encapsulates emotions whether it be joy, pain, love or anger. This encapsulation of emotion serves as a catalyst for conversation — conversations that can lead to de-mystification and promote open-mindedness. As it concerns the capacity to cause political change, art’s ripple effects are needed to cultivate solidarity and foster empathy. The latter explains why art simultaneously exists as a form of resistance. In highly politicized and deeply polarized contexts, art can be used to resist stereotypes, occupation, and cultural erasure by reinstating an identity and experiences. The creation and diffusion of Palestinian artwork accomplishes exactly that. In “The Origins of Palestinian Art,” Bashir Makhoul notes that a politicized context makes it absurd to distinguish a ‘political art’ when a simple cactus can be read as a nationalist message or certain colors risking placing somebody in jail. The latter is a reference to the banning of the gathering of the colors of the Palestinian flag from 1967 to 1993 leading artists such as Fathi Ghablan to be put in prison for this simple ‘crime’. Such inherent politicization reflects every aspect of Palestinian life, thus a focus on individual lives represents a form of resistance and solidarity. The vast ocean of artistic resilience in Palestine extends from the traditional Dabke to the Arab Futurism of Sansour. In order to limit our scope, this article will be oriented primarily on the seventh art, the combination of visuals, sound, dialogue and emotion to glimpse into the realities of Palestinian life and humanize the population globally: cinema. “When you live under occupation, you have different resistance than those in normal regimes and one of the ways is culture.” These were the words of Rawan Odeh, the co-founder of the association “Cine-Palestine” in Paris and Marseille who kindly offered her insight and experiences relating to her work organizing cinema festivals and the manner in which they play a role in creating crucial conversations but also the difficulties they faced. As she explained, it is rare to find Palestinian films in France. Having an association dedicated to shedding light on the Palestinian experience creates space for an alternative narrative. Cine-Palestine’s work allows audiences to speak to the directors, in which productive exchanges can be made with those unfamiliar with the extent of political struggles in daily Palestinian life and those who have lived through it firsthand. Through a compilation of this enriching interview alongside an analysis of some beautiful Palestinian films, I hope to convince the reader to consult this gem which lies in the cinematographic world. “When I left, I realized that people do not know anything about my country, all the time it is stereotypes,” Odeh explained. This relates to a misconception of Palestinian people through the word association game used by the media to paint civilians as “terrorists” or as “barbaric” and diminish their occupation to a “conflict.” Cinema is the stage, which can give back the voice to the voiceless, fight stereotypes and allow solidarity through humanizing said people. “Gaza, Mon Amour,” the impressive work of the Gazan brothers, Tarzan and Arab Nasser , which was nominated for three awards in the Academy of César among winning several other awards, reflects this . It follows a simple love story told through comedic undertones of two middle-aged individuals in Gaza after the main protagonist is arrested for finding a statue of Apollo by Hamas who wished to sell the statue for money, the latter subplot is based on a real story. The beauty of this film is that it shows a real story, a simple story, an authentic story. It illustrates the obvious: Palestinians are also people, they also experience love even in a politicized context. It exemplifies a concept expressed by Odeh: films portray universal feelings, allowing one to humanize the Other, through love, birthdays, and experiences of women. As she expressed, “That is what makes us human, we have so much in common even if we experience them from far away.” I had the pleasure of watching this phenomenal film in a screening where one of the directors (Arab Nasser) was present allowing an exchange with him afterward. He explained the significance of the film's subtleties, such as the choice of two middle-aged lovers as opposed to the common romantic trope of focusing on young protagonists. This small detail was to capture a tragic reality that causes the young people in Gaza to flee, to look for a life elsewhere in a safe environment that allows them the human rights they deserve alongside opportunities that should be available to any person. He explained that this film used this simple story to highlight all the layers of oppression and injustice in Gaza starting from the internal struggles whether political or economic to the harsh laws of Hamas to finally, and only at the end, the Israeli occupation. This enriching film allows one to understand the true dynamics of living in Gaza, the political dust which surrounds the place and how said injustice hinders a human in a “normal” life but also how people manage to find laughter, love and joy within difficult times. I would recommend it to everybody to watch as it allows non-Palestinians to witness a lifestyle that they would otherwise be unfamiliar with, notably as this is not a political narrative but a film that seeks to increase understanding. In other words, it shows us elements that one can never find in research, through articles or in the media. This humanization causes people to care and mobilize for their cause. Palestinian cinema allows filmmakers the option to choose their own story instead of needing to operate within the limits of any imposed narrative from any party. Found in the work of Elia Suleiman , “It Must Be Heaven”: a captivating, satirical film that received the Jury Special Mention award at the 2019 Cannes Festival. In this piece, this Palestinian director plays himself and travels from Nazareth to Paris to New York silently observing absurd scenes taking place which in my eyes shows a certain irony in the heavenly-painted West. Although not a biographic piece, the director explained that every sentence included in his film was based on phrases he actually heard. Moreover, he highlights his idea of a “Palestinisation of the world” in which the violence of his home is reflected everywhere, on larger or smaller scales, and his trauma follows him . In other words, he illustrates how Palestine is a global issue, a global struggle against violence or discrimination which can be manifested even in “heaven”. The choice of a silent film is especially interesting as it begs us to ask why he is muted throughout the film, was it a conscious choice or was his voice taken from him, forcing him to be silent? His comedic depiction of the authorities belittles their power but also comments on the lack of true freedom in the West. As an immigrant from the Middle East, I truly felt the depicted difficulties present in these “free” countries (which are nonetheless more free than our country of origin) where their hypocrisy and de-politicization of political experiences—that of injustice, power imbalances, discrimination— acts as a frustration which can only truly be expressed comedically. It must be heaven because it was told to us that this is heaven. It must be heaven because we must have gone through hell to wish to be here. It must be heaven, but it is not heaven—and if it is, then maybe it is only in the very broad sense of the term—and our countries were not hell—at least not in the strict sense of the term. He commented on the mythicization of Palestinians through a scene in which a New York taxi driver gave him a free ride after finding out his nationality, claiming that he is the first Palestinian he ever saw as though he is a mythical creature. He spotlighted the discrimination faced by Palestinians in the diaspora through a chilling yet nonetheless artistic and in part comedic scene where the police chase after a Palestinian woman in an angel costume for wearing her flag. The theme of being constantly on the move with persistent shots in which characters or vehicles are moving comments on the freedom of movement that is not available to those living in occupied Palestine whether that be in Gaza or the West Bank. The theme of the Western perception of the Middle East was depicted through a character expressing that a film about peace in the Middle East is “funny already” pretending as though the Middle East was made inherently unstable to the point that peace is only a far-fetched idea. Ignorance was depicted through other visual symbolism in which his character merely witnesses but never intervenes, a comment I found to be reminiscent of Western individualism where one can observe but continue with their day, ignoring the chaos and bloodshed in Palestine. But the pinnacle of the film was when he was in Paris and a French producer did not pick his film idea as he found it to not be “Palestinian enough .” It is an ironic criticism of how people try to stick a narrative onto Palestinian stories, how some people are forced to be outwardly political and that their life experiences are not seen as “enough.” Elia Suleiman reclaims his story and identity through this film, bringing out conversations that may not seem evident yet are nonetheless crucial to understanding these realities on the individual level.

There may be a wider loss of confidence in the Egyptian government’s ability to successfully navigate its debt burden and stabilize its economy: Egyptian sovereign debt prices have been falling in recent weeks, while prices in comparable countries have risen or remained stable.  < Back The Shifting Regional Political Landscape and the Impact on Egyptian Assets By Noor Ahmad September 27, 2023 Egypt, along with many other developing countries, is suffering from the aftereffects of the COVID-19 pandemic and the impact on grain and energy prices as a result of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Recently, however, some indicators suggest that there may be a wider loss of confidence in the Egyptian government’s ability to successfully navigate its debt burden and stabilize its economy: Egyptian sovereign debt prices have been falling in recent weeks, while prices in comparable countries have risen or remained stable. As recently as December 2022, Egypt entered into its third loan program with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) since Abdel Fattah al-Sisi’s regime took power. This normally would be a positive development and result in a favorable disposition of international capital markets toward a country. The loan amount of three billion dollars is small in comparison to Egypt’s financing needs, estimated at $17 billion this year. Still, an IMF agreement is typically accompanied by additional financing from international and regional partners like the Gulf states. In this instance, another $14 billion of financing is anticipated from the latter group. Egypt has also agreed to sell its state-owned assets as part of its agreement with the IMF. Many of these assets have arisen from an expanding military presence in Egypt’s economy during President Sisi’s tenure, as the President has granted privileges and favors to his generals and the military at large to cement his grip on power. A 2020 World Bank estimate suggests that the military owns 60 companies in 19 of the 24 economic sectors. For example, the National Service Projects Organization, a military affiliate, oversees 30 companies in the food, mining, petroleum, and construction sectors. In addition, these companies have an inherent advantage as they pay no taxes or customs duties, unlike the private sector. There are several fundamental issues with this plan. Firstly, there is little visibility of these assets and their profitability to the public; secondly, divesting them to the private sector would result in the loss of military patronage, and President Sisi has been announcing privatization initiatives since 2019 with minimal progress; lastly, the buyers are likely to be mostly Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) sovereign wealth funds which are known to be opportunistic. During his visit to Egypt, the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, Mohammed bin Salman, announced deals totalling $7.7 billion. Out of this deal, some $1.3 billion have been invested based on reports from Egyptian state-owned news company Al-Ahram. But progress has since stalled. Similarly, the Qatar Investment Authority has been in discussions to purchase a stake in Vodafone Egypt, which Telecom Egypt partially owns. These negotiations are also at an impasse. Beyond the traditional financial negotiations, there are likely to be deeper political drivers that need to be considered. In the case of Saudi Arabia, an ongoing dispute about the transfer of two Red Sea Islands, Tiran and Sanafir, which Egypt agreed to in 2017 is once again stalled – these were islands disputed and claimed by Saudi Arabia for many years. The Saudis may be using their financial clout to pressure the Egyptians, who are fast approaching their self-imposed deadline of June 2023 for divesting six billion dollars in assets to buy financial headroom for their crisis-hit economy. Beyond this, the transfer of islands has a wider impact on the attempt to normalize Saudi-Israeli relations following the Abraham Accords. Brokered by the United States, the Islands transfer would also open Saudi airspace to Israeli air traffic. This is an important regional development for which the Saudis would seek to use all leverage to accelerate. Likewise, the stalled Qatari negotiations may include this dimension, as they come under pressure from the Saudis and the Americans to further regional normalization. The Egyptians have used the delaying tactic on the islands to pressure the United States to release part of its one billion dollars in military aid that the Americans have held up to force the Egyptian government to improve its human rights record. And the above drama is taking place against a wider rapprochement in the region. A recent Chinese initiative facilitated talks between the Saudis and the Iranians on normalizing relations and enforcing a ceasefire in Yemen, where both countries are involved through proxies. A normalization of Saudi Arabia with its traditional foes, Israel and Iran, would diminish Egypt’s role in the region, given that the Egyptian military has historically provided an umbrella for Saudi security. Standard & Poors Global Ratings, one of the three biggest credit rating agencies, issued a report on the state of the Egyptian economy and its creditworthiness in January 2023. It stated that it considered the importance of stability in Egypt a major incentive for official and commercial lenders to help it meet its external finance requirements. It also opined that the Egyptian government was committed to the necessary reforms and viewed its growth prospects favorably. Most notably, Egypt has begun to benefit from the return of foreign tourists and is making headway in its gas exports. The transition of Egypt’s economy from military-run to private-sector growth is unlikely to be straightforward as vested interests hinder the process. At the same time, regional politics is likely to cause turbulence in negotiations for the sale of assets and increase of financing. But the normalization of relations between the Saudis, Israelis and Iranians will likely take several years, given historical distrust and regional rivalries. The Saudis and the remainder of the Gulf Cooperation Council are unlikely to abandon Egypt, given its military importance. The turbulence in Egypt’s financial assets is most likely a response to the drama unfolding in the region.

Upon coming back from France, Lebanon no longer felt the same. I was no longer able to be an “insider.” I could no longer relate to the constant struggles of traffic and stress on the way to work or university. I was no longer able to answer the taxi driver with ‘yes, we’re all stuck here unfortunately.’ I was not stuck here. I felt like a hypocrite – a hypocrite for enjoying the liberty of calling myself Lebanese without the struggles of being Lebanese. < Back An “Insider’s” Perspective on Lebanon By Angela Saab Saade January 29, 2022 I grew up in an unstable household. My parents divorced when I was young and I struggled with inconsistency through much of my childhood. Yet, I never felt afraid in my own home. I found safety in my own comfort zone. I found that comfort in my native country, Lebanon. But, something changed upon moving to France for university. As students on the Menton Campus, many of us are familiar with the current situation in Lebanon. However, being a Lebanese citizen, born and raised near Beirut, I find it necessary to clarify a few things — a few things that I deem only an “insider” may truly understand. Despite what the media and statistics portray, Lebanon’s biggest issue is not the current economic crisis. Our biggest concern is not whether or not the inflation rate will decrease tomorrow. Though most of us have been conditioned to check the Lebanese Lira-United States Dollar exchange rate first thing in the morning, our collective suffering goes beyond that. Despite the garbage crisis, the corruption circulating our institutions, the confessional system that creates much damage, the unconstitutionality of our constitution, our poverty rate increasing drastically by the day, and our lack of access to basic needs, the Lebanese people suffer from a phenomenon that encompasses all those factors, and more. It would be belittling to reduce the populace’s suffering to those circumstances alone. The adversities of the Lebanese can not be limited to numbers or pictures or thousands and thousands of words describing the current situation. The Lebanese’s biggest dilemma is that they have been stripped of their dignity. It is that progressive gradual reduction of our collective dignity that makes us so numb to pain and agony today, so accustomed to constantly increasing destruction, and so exhausted of revolution, of protest, and of trying to bring about change. The trauma my ancestors held from previous wars, conflicts, and patterns of colonization live in me. The trauma my parents held from the 15-year Civil War equally lives in me. The trauma that the entire Lebanese population holds today from the August 4 2020 explosion of Beirut lives in me. The trans-generational trauma, developed from trust issues rooted in broken promises and false hope in figures of authority, lives in me. That trauma lives in each Lebanese. That trauma haunts our households and takes over our streets. I see it in the conversation I have with the taxi driver about the hopelessness of the nation. I see it in the smile of the old lady sitting on her balcony, in a half-demolished home (not yet recovered from the 1975 Civil War), sipping her Turkish coffee, smoking her morning cigarette, and watching over Beirut with a bit of nostalgia and a lot of regret. I see it everywhere. The worst part though is that I cannot unsee it. I am no longer able to ignore those issues of trust, of commitment, and of abandonment that the Lebanese collectively suffer from. What's worse, is that once you have noticed the collective depression, you cannot help but feel guilty for feeling content. That collective survivor’s guilt is not just felt by those of us able to flee, but also felt by those of us who stay; to be alive in this country today is just as much of a privilege as being able to escape it. I knew all of this before moving to France. I felt it, I saw it, and I coped with it. But, upon coming back from France, Lebanon no longer felt the same. I no longer felt safe. What’s more though, is that I was no longer able to be an “insider.” I could no longer relate to the constant struggles of traffic and stress on the way to work or university. I was no longer able to answer the taxi driver with ‘yes, we’re all stuck here unfortunately.’ I was not stuck here. I felt like a hypocrite – a hypocrite for enjoying the liberty of calling myself Lebanese without the struggles of being Lebanese. And so today, though I am giving you a glimpse of Lebanon as an “insider,” I feel as much of an “outsider” as the foreigners do. But this is not unique to me, nor is it new- the influx of Lebanese migrants has been massive since 1975. The new phenomenon that I noticed, however, is the creation of a new social class in Lebanon: the social class that has access to foreign currency, more notably the US dollar. The Lebanese have always been divided into separate social classes – those that live abroad and send remittances to the “insiders” and those that reside locally. But today, a new social class exists – the “dollar class.” And consequently, more inequality exists, a new form of discrimination emerges, and dependence on foreign parties increases. This trend has harmed Lebanese trust in their own people, their government, and their local resources. And so, the government not only “killed my people,” (August 2020 Beirut blast) but, it equally deprived them of achieving and maintaining trust in themselves and in each other. This is exacerbated when the politicians successfully manage to flip the table around and accuse us of “voting for them” — an act that I deem one of the worst forms of manipulation and gaslighting. But, as the reputation correctly affirms, the Lebanese people are resilient. And though I hate saying that, because it leads to all the more of romanticizing what should not be romanticized, I do strongly believe that we are resilient enough to regain and re-establish trust in each other. Despite our history and our reality showing otherwise, I do still have hope that Lebanon will get back on its feet. There is no possibility that substantial changes — be they economic, political or social – will be taking place any time soon. Anyone with basic knowledge of economics and politics would know that. However, what research and data do not forcibly reveal is the gradual collective change in mindset taking place today. According to psychological theory, thought cycles are not within one’s control. Hence, if one wishes to recondition themselves and influence their thoughts, they must make the conscious effort of changing their behavior to eventually develop a change in thought patterns. Lebanese civil society (from the protestors of October 17 to the non-profit organizations making cooperative progress) are consistently enforcing new behavioral patterns. Consequently, a new thought cycle within the entire Lebanese population is under the process of development. That new collective mindset will build stronger new generations that will witness substantive development. And so in the distant future, today's educated youth are expected to bring about effective change in Lebanese politics and society. Today's youth are expected to forge a new path for the generations to come.

Many young Tunisians, 1A Amira Zargouni notes, are “filled with disillusionment due to the long, arduous process of democratic transition” and have not experienced the direct rewards of democratic gains during the post-revolution period that their parents or grandparents did. < Back Tunisia: A Nation Relying on the Fundamental Power of Youth Trust By Luca Utterwulghe September 29, 2021 As students of the Middle East and North Africa region, we are quick to recall that Tunisia was the only relative success story of the “Arab Spring,” a string of popular revolutions beginning in 2010 which engulfed the region. Tunisian exceptionalism was due to a myriad of factors: the mobilizing role of social media, the diverse and widespread nature of the protest movement, the strategic dialogue initiated by Tunisian civil society, and the absence of military repression of protests, as was the case in Bahrain and other Arab Spring states. Western spectators often extol Tunisia as the pillar of democracy in the MENA region, praising its relatively secular political institutions and “liberal” constitution , which includes a mandate to actively support child development, commitments to “social justice” and regional equality, articles outlining gender equality, and orders to protect the environment. Why, then, have mass crowds continued to flood Avenue Habib Bourguiba and city centers from Bizerte to Gafsa, shouting chants reminiscent of the initial calls for the removal of dictator Zine El Abidine Ben Ali? Protestors called for the suspension of Parliament, economic reform, strategic action on the COVID-19 crisis, and an end to police brutality. Tunisian President Kais Saied terminated Parliament and removed Prime Minister Hichem Mechichi on July 26, 2021, a decision rooted in entrenched political divides which have plagued the government. Many question whether Saied’s decision to suspend Parliament for thirty days indicated the rise of a new authoritarianism or a proper course of action in the face of national political and economic crisis. Saied has since extended the suspension, raising further questions about the legitimacy of his temporary consolidation of power. Compounding the gravity of these issues is the emergence of political figures like Abir Moussi , leader of the Al-Dustur al-Hurr party and a Ben Ali regime nostalgic. Moussi’s disruptive actions in parliamentary procedures and the unbridled anger of her opponents have led to embarrassing (physical) clashes in Parliament. Many, however, take for granted the fact that (most) Tunisian citizens have the right to express their grievances without having to fear the state’s security apparatus to the extent that they did pre-revolution. Tunisia remains in the difficult and transitionary space of fairly well-protected political liberties and unstable economic conditions, forcing many young and bright Tunisians to flee the country ( youth unemployment was 35% in 2019). How can Tunisia move forward in this drawn-out process of democratization where the value of political freedom is drowned out by pleas for economic reform, among other things? What do young people need in order to trust the future of their country? I have consulted young Tunisians to lend some insight into these necessary questions: Amira Zargouni, a Tunisian first year student in the French Track of the Sciences Po Menton campus responds to the above questions with a call for structural reform in various domains of Tunisian society. Zargouni stresses that “in order to understand their needs [young Tunisians], it is important to [paint] a portrait” of them. Many young Tunisians, Zargouni notes, are “filled with disillusionment due to the long, arduous process of democratic transition” and have not experienced the direct rewards of democratic gains during the post-revolution period that their parents or grandparents did. Zargouni describes the reality of young Tunisians as navigating and protesting a complex web of “endless loopholes” in political life. The underlying issue Zargouni pinpoints is corruption, an issue that “remains intact and that contaminates every other branch, field, [and] future prospect” in the Tunisian political and economic spheres. While Tunisian political institutions are generally well-functioning, Zargouni emphasizes that Tunisia has still not established a constitutional council or supreme court of the land. There exists no “fair and efficient judiciary to act strongly against any form of corruption.” Zargouni alludes to the removal of the head of INLUCC, “the government committee fighting corruption,” as a crucial indicator of low public trust in government. In a more economic sense, Zargouni states the importance of “reshaping the economic model, [making it] more inclusive, more equitable, and coherent with the global value chain.” Evidently, there are a range of approaches one can take in examining what young Tunisians need to move forward confidently, trustingly, and prosperously. It is clear that Tunisian youth are extremely capable of reforming their communities ( Hayfa Sdiri is an excellent example of how young minds can affect change). Decision-makers are tasked with the fundamental duty of protecting and nurturing this wealth of human capital. Failing to do so will only lead to further political strife and deadlock.

The vicious attacks of Jamat Nusrat Al-Islam wal Muslimeen and Islamic State West Africa have not only caused hundreds of deaths and injuries, but as a result, the poverty level has worsened, mass displacement continues, education levels deteriorate, human right violations occur frequently, the law loses its meaning even to government officials, and the overall political future of Burkina Faso is unstable. < Back How Jihadists Are Ravaging Burkina Faso By Isabella Hehl Dalla Zuanna February 28, 2023 When discussing the targets of violent jihadists, Afghanistan, Syria and Iraq are often the focal points. Yet, one of the countries most ravaged by terrorism today is Burkina Faso. Ranked fourth in countries most impacted by terrorism by the 2022 Global Terrorism Index, it suffered 732 deaths, 231 injured and 216 overall attacks last year. In the past, the jihadists in Burkina Faso — mostly Jamat Nusrat Al-Islam wal Muslimeen and Islamic State West Africa — targeted pro-government forces such as the military and state officials. However, in the last several years, the targets have mostly become civilians, volunteer defense forces and sometimes even tourists, who are confronted by improvised explosive devices (IED), small-arms attacks, assassinations and kidnappings by jihadists aiming to expand their territorial control. As a result, there are now more than one million internally displaced Burkinabe, most of whom were forced to leave their homes as a direct result of the extremist violence. For the last three consecutive years, civilians have been the most targeted group by terrorists. On June 5, 2021, jihadists murdered over 160 people in Solhan in the Yagha province and injured more than 40. Considered the most vicious and deadly attack in Burkina Faso in the last several years, the terrorists — of which the group is unknown — began their attack by assassinating a volunteer defense force militia and then proceeding to strike the village, killing the civilians inside and burning down their houses and a market. Tragically, of the 160 people, 20 were children. As one of the poorest countries in the world, more than half of its population lives on 1.90 U.S. dollars a day, and its terrorist crisis only worsens the situation. Factors such as recent climate shocks, the growing population and food insecurity stagnate poverty levels, especially impacting urban areas, where the unemployment rate is 50 percent. This poverty, inefficient governance and geographical inequality in state security have allowed for the country’s vulnerability to terrorist attacks. The country’s military weakness and inequality have given credibility and opportunity to non-state armed groups. Regions where the community feels unprotected and excluded by its government, especially by the youth — in part due to corruption and inequality of wealth, resources and security — will show less of a tendency to resist the territorial expansion of the armed groups. The terrorist crisis also impacts elections in Burkina Faso. With a history of coup d’états, the rise in terrorism further impairs fair election processes, as mass displacement challenges voter turnout. Due to insufficient troop availability, the Burkinabe government has increasingly recruited civilian auxiliaries, which are rapidly trained and sent to various at-risk regions. Unfortunately, these new recruits have increasingly become the main target of extremist groups, suggesting that volunteers have now replaced the military on the front lines. However, these volunteer defense forces have been accused of numerous human rights violations by Burkinabe civilians and international organizations, such as illegal killings and the targeting of native Peuhl, an indigenous people mostly concentrated in northern Burkina Faso in geographically isolated, economically marginalized and dry areas. The government has also committed many human rights violations, including torture, unlawful executions of suspected criminals and Islamists and arbitrary detentions. Prison overcrowding is a severe problem in Burkina Faso, and most prisoners are not informed of or guaranteed their legal rights. Access to education has severely decreased in recent years due to insecurity. The Burkinabe government closed 10 percent of schools in May 2021, resulting in more than 300,000 children being out of school. The vicious attacks of Jamat Nusrat Al-Islam wal Muslimeen and Islamic State West Africa have not only caused hundreds of deaths and injuries. As a result, the poverty level has worsened, mass displacement continues, education levels deteriorate, human rights violations occur frequently, the law loses its meaning even to government officials, and the overall political future of Burkina Faso is unstable. The crisis is not just a terrorist one; it is humanitarian and deserves swift, effective and international action.

In a small apartment on the outskirts of Marrakech, the close relatives of a wrongfully imprisoned man have gathered to share their story with a Swedish university student. The relatives are desperate to disseminate the circumstances of his imprisonment and hope their story will one day reach the public. < Back The Life of Mustapha Eddarja: A Wrongfully Imprisoned Man Fighting for the Independence of Western Sahara By Vanja Lerch Eriksson October 31, 2023 Mustapha Eddarja, a father of six and a strong believer in West Saharan independence, was arrested in a coffeehouse in central Marrakech late at night on January 10, 2017. He was brought to a secret location in Salé City and kept there for days, without being notified of the grounds for his arrest. During his time in Salé City, Eddarja was subjected to systematic physical torture with the purpose of forcing him to sign the police records which contained wrongful claims about his arrest. For a number of days, Eddarja refused to sign, but he had to give in after several days of electrical shocks, forced sleep deprivation and continuous beatings. After the torture, Eddarja was brought to Tangier Hospital to recover and the interrogation was therefore postponed. Instead of being brought back to Marrakech, Eddarja was kept in a prison in Tangier for months, unable to be visited by his family. The arrest warrant for Mustapha Eddarja was based on him allegedly being part of a drug smuggling operation. Eddarja has denied any connection to the drug trafficking group and his relatives support this claim. In court, Eddarja’s family complained about the lack of evidence of his connection to the crime. However, this was ignored by the judge. Evidently, Eddarja has been subject to a fabrication of accusations. Eddarja’s family and the Collective of Sahrawi Human Rights Defenders in Western Sahara (CODESA) interpret the arrest of Mustapha Eddarja as a retaliation to his support for the Gdeim Izik camp events in 2010. The Gdeim Izik protest started off peacefully but later developed into a violent confrontation when Moroccan security forces entered the camp. The camp was originally erected to protest human rights violations, discrimination and poverty inflicted by the Moroccan government on West Saharians. However, later, a part of the protesting group also claimed to be protesting against the Moroccan occupation of Western Sahara and demanded independence for the occupied territories. After the Gdeim Izik protests, Eddarja was subjected to continuous harassment by government agencies, both through physical encounters and through the constant surveillance of his movements. In addition, Eddarja’s name started to pop up in similar judicial cases to the one he was later accused and convicted of. Having his name reoccur in similar investigations provided the Moroccan Judiciary with sufficient reason to see his actions as premeditated, thereby making him eligible for a harsher punishment. This suggests that the Moroccan Judicial Police had made preparations for his arrest for several years before following through on his arrest. Eddarja was known for his support of the non-violent fight for the freedom of Western Sahara. He supported peaceful activists and protests financially as well as through moral and health support. He was deeply appreciated by his community and was regarded as a figure of high morale. According to CODESA, The Moroccan government has committed similar operations to stop supporters of this cause on numerous occasions. However, these discriminatory conditions prevailed when the persecuted individual received their sentence. After being sentenced to 10 to 15 years in prison, Eddarija was transferred numerous times between different prison facilities in northern Morocco but has now been transferred to what is seemingly his last location – the Oudaya prison in Marrakech. During their short visits, family members have learned that Eddarja is kept in a solitary cell and has been for the last two years. In Oudaya prison, Eddarja is held in the high-security wing, which is the most well-guarded one. According to his family, he suffers from the inhumane prison conditions. He is often handcuffed for no apparent reason; he is deprived of walks and outside activities and has been prohibited from seeing his family on several occasions, who have traveled 900 kilometers to visit him. A family member who was able to meet him said that he had gastro-intestinal pains, diseases connected to malnutrition and was in a poor mental state. The inhumane conditions have contributed to Eddarja’s health worsening, pushing him towards more radical means. Eddarja did, for weeks, go on a hunger strike in prison; however, this was met with indifference from the prison staff, and his health worsened even more. In 2021, Eddarja’s wife, child, and Eddaich Eddaf, a former political prisoner who has become a human rights defender for CODESA, and his partner attempted to visit Eddarja in jail. The group provided all the required documents to visit him, but only his daughter was allowed. She met him and could testify that his health had worsened even more. Unfortunately, the others were not allowed entry and made the 900-kilometer-long journey in vain. None of these circumstances align with international humanitarian law – they oppose the most basic human rights. Suppose one were to observe the framework of the 70/175. United Nations Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (the Nelson Mandela Rules) , one can distinguish that the treatment of Mustapha Eddarja does not comply with its requirements. Neither does it comply with the vital conditions proposed in the Convention against Torture and other Cruel, Inhuman and Degrading Treatment or Punishment , which the Kingdom of Morocco ratified in 1993. The 2nd and 11th Articles of this convention specify that torture should be non-existent in the countries that have ratified it, suggesting that the Kingdom of Morocco does not fulfil these obligations. Article 15 states that any statements made during torture shall not be invoked as evidence. This is, however, evidently not complied with in the case of Mustapha Eddarja and is thereby not fulfilled. Eddarja’s family demands that his human rights should be respected and thus also states that Eddarja deserves a new trial based upon a new independent and impartial investigation. They urge international actors to intervene to bring justice to Mustapha Eddarja and force the Moroccan government to stop using fabricated accusations. Mustafa Eddarja’s family is looking forward to his release in a couple of years but still hopes that the visibility from sharing their story might give them the opportunity to meet him sooner.

Plus grand que le Royaume-Uni mais n’abritant qu’un peu plus d’un demi-million d’habitants, le Sahara occidental est un territoire peu peuplé qui a provoqué de nombreux conflits au cours du dernier demi-siècle. < Back Une Ligne Dans Le Sable: Le Nouveau Consulat Au Sahara Occidental By Colin Lim September 30, 2022 La simple mention du Sahara occidental suffit souvent à provoquer des débats historiques passionnés et des débats sur l’autodétermination et la décolonisation. Désigné par l'Organisation des Nations Unies comme un territoire non autonome, le Sahara occidental est un territoire contesté du nord-ouest de l’Afrique entouré par l’Atlantique, la Mauritanie, l’Algérie et le Maroc, ce dernier administrant la majorité du territoire. Plus grand que le Royaume-Uni mais n’abritant qu’un peu plus d’un demi-million d’habitants, c’est un territoire peu peuplé qui a provoqué de nombreux conflits au cours du dernier demi-siècle. Habité à l’origine par le peuple sahraoui, le Sahara occidental a été occupé par l’Espagne de 1884 à 1975, d’abord en tant que protectorat puis en tant que province. Dans le cadre de sa mission de décolonisation d’après-guerre, l’ONU a adopté des résolutions faisant pression sur l’Espagne franquiste, entre autres régimes coloniaux, pour qu’elle renonce à ses revendications sur les territoires coloniaux. L’Espagne a accédé à cette pression et la Marche verte, une procession soutenue par le gouvernement Marocain de 350,000 Marocains dans le territoire occupé par l’Espagne, a établi la présence du Maroc et son intention de s’affirmer dans ce domaine. La Mauritanie a renoncé à ses revendications sur le territoire peu de temps après, reconnaissant à la place la souveraineté du Front Polisario — la République Arabe Sahraouie Démocratique (RASD) autoproclamée — sur le territoire. À ce moment-là, le Maroc contrôlait déjà une partie importante du territoire et une guerre d’usure de 16 ans s’ensuivit. Le Maroc contrôle actuellement 80 % du Sahara occidental, y compris la grande majorité du littoral, et la RASD maintient son siège à Tindouf, en Algérie, en conséquence. Lorsque la République du Tchad a annoncé le 7 Septembre 2022 qu’elle prévoyait d’ouvrir un consulat à Dakhla, une ville située à 500 kilomètres au sud de la frontière marocaine reconnue par l’ONU, elle a rejoint la liste croissante des États qui reconnaissent le terrain comme territoire Marocain. Vingt pays ont actuellement des missions diplomatiques à Laâyoune et Dakhla, dont la Jordanie, Bahreïn, les Émirats Arabes Unis et la Côte d’Ivoire. Plus particulièrement—et peut-être le plus controversé — les États-Unis ont reconnu la souveraineté du Maroc sur le territoire fin 2020 en échange de la normalisation des relations du royaume avec Israël dans les accords d’Abraham. La décision du gouvernement tchadien pourrait être perçue comme une réponse à la décision du gouvernement tunisien d’accueillir Brahim Ghali, le chef de la RASD, qui a entraîné la rupture diplomatique maroco-tunisienne une semaine auparavant. Étant donné que le Tchad entretient déjà des relations diplomatiques avec le Maroc par le biais de son ambassade à Rabat, l’action essentiellement symbolique mais toujours conséquente de consacrer des ressources à un consulat dans une ville périphérique et plutôt isolée est une autre étape vers la reconnaissance internationale de la situation actuelle. La question persistante sans réponse de savoir si le peuple sahraoui recevra un jour l’autonomie au sein de l’état Marocain ou l’indépendance pure et simple, ou si le Maroc continuera à revendiquer fortement le Sahara occidental, est un autre rappel de l’impact du colonialisme des siècles passés sur le monde d’aujourd’hui.

Long ago, Palestine was at the heart of the intoxicating idea of Arab solidarity. Now, it struggles to retain its legitimacy in an increasingly splintered SWANA region. In light of warming relations with Israel across the Arab world, it seems as though Palestine’s last true allies are deserting. < Back The Fairytale of Arab Unity: Israeli-Arab Ties Strengthen By Lara-Nour Walton November 29, 2021 Once upon a time, an anticolonial fervor bound the Arabic-speaking countries together. Once upon a time, the Arab Enlightenment, Al-Nahda, prompted the espousement of Nasser’s and Gadaffi’s quixotic, pan-Arab ideals. Once upon a time, the Palestinian plight was something other Arabs, a people all too familiar with the consequences of colonial pursuit, could relate to; still fresh in my great-grandmother’s mind 50 years later was the sound of bagpipes from the British occupation in Egypt. But, the SWANA region has become fragmented over the years. The memory of occupation is far more distant among the newer generations, and solidarity with Palestine has only diminished as a result. This dwindling support is evident in regional pro-Israel policy shifts. Until recently, there had been bad blood between the Gulf States and Israel. Saudi Arabia, especially, had remained a staunch supporter of the Palestinians — in 1973, it even enforced an oil embargo against the U.S. for backing Israel during the Yom Kippur War. This demonstration of Saudi’s past willingness to jeopardize its valuable American alliance proved its loyalty to the Palestinian cause. That is why the world was stunned when late last year, Saudi Arabia appeared to be open to normalization with Israel. This paradigm shift followed the signing of the Abraham Accords, which afforded fellow GCC members, Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates, normal diplomatic relations with Israel. During his rule, Saudi King Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud refused any normalization until Israel restored the 1967 borders. But his son, Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman, who has taken over from the King almost entirely, is not as attached to the Palestinian cause as his father. His desire to appease the West and safeguard his Kingdom’s regional hegemony against Iran undoubtedly informed his choice to normalize ties with Israel. The potency of U.S. influence cannot be understated when analyzing the diplomatic reordering of the SWANA region. In September 2020, Sudan joined the Abraham accords with the promise that the U.S. remove it from the list of State Sponsors of Terrorism and lift sanctions. Similarly, Morocco’s December 2020 move to join the agreement was largely predicated on Washington’s conditional pledge to affirm Morocco’s claim over the disputed Western Sahara. In effect, Palestinians, according to Ahmad Majdalani , member of the Palestine Liberation Organization’s Executive Committee, feel abandoned “by the Arab nation(s) leaving them to remain locked in an untenable status quo.” As a result of U.S. sway in the region, SWANA diplomatic decisions are almost always made at the expense of Palestine. Consequently, Israel is rewarded for conceding nothing. This trend has continued, this time in Jordan. Despite a 1994 Peace Treaty , the Hashemite Kindom’s relationship with Israel has been tenuous over the past two decades, largely due to King Abdullah’s sympathy for Jordan's sizeable and ever-growing Palestinian population. At the core of Jordanian foreign policy has been the demand for the establishment of a Palestinian state on the 1967 borders with an East Jerusalem capital. Under former Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Jordan-Israel bilateral relations grew icy. However, one of the top priorities of the new premier, Naftali Bennet, is to thaw those relations. In his bid to do this, he and Jordan engaged in what Gidon Bromberg, Israel’s director of the regional environmental group EcoPeace Middle East, said is the “largest water sale in the history of the two countries.” This water deal stipulates that the H2O-deficient Kingdom is set to receive double the amount of fresh water from Israel than it had before. But, to Jordanian English Track 1A, Sami Omaish, this deal is far from magnanimous. “Israel diverts water from the Jordan River. It is hypocritical that they steal Jordanian water and then sell it back for Jordanian money.” However, Jordan’s top envoy does not seem to be phased by this apparent injustice. He reported that he and Israeli Foreign Minister Yair Lapid intend for this to be the first in a series of deals towards “a just and comprehensive peace” between Israel and the Hashemite Kingdom. On the same day as the water deal, Jordan accused Israel of committing war crimes for the forced eviction of Palestinians from the East Jerusalem neighborhood of Sheikh Jarrah. But despite Amman’s frequent condemnations of Israeli human rights abuses, there is little to no firm action to match its threatening rhetoric. Perhaps it is simply advantageous for a country in drought to be chummy with one of the world’s leaders in desalination. Or maybe King Abdullah seeks diplomatic realignment with Israel to maintain the $1.5 billion in annual aid from pro-Israel lawmakers in Washington. Regardless of the reasoning, Jordan’s support as one of Palestine’s most devoted advocates is waning. Palestine found a home in what senior associate member of Oxford’s St. Antony’s College, Hussein Agha, calls the “Third World Movement,” a period during the mid-20th century characterized by pushes for liberationism and anti-colonialism. However, according to Agha , “many of the Palestinians’ former Third World allies (like India and Vietnam) have chosen economic self-interest in place of ideological commitment.” Long ago, Palestine was at the heart of the intoxicating idea of Arab solidarity. Now, it struggles to retain its legitimacy in an increasingly splintered SWANA region. In light of warming relations with Israel across the Arab world, it seems as though Palestine’s last true allies are deserting.