The sense in Tehran is that Khamenei has decided the Islamic Republic can only survive if the entire regime is in the hands of the hardliners.
Over the past 14 months, there have been moments when it seemed like progress was being made toward de-escalation in Yemen, but there have also been significant setbacks as well. Peace efforts thus far have been largely fragmented and frail, and two primary lessons from the past failures have become clear.
The April 2019 Israeli elections between incumbent Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his competitor Benny Gantz were fraught with tension even before external entities got involved. But when Israel’s internal security service, Shin Bet, revealed that suspected Iranian cyber actors had accessed Gantz’s mobile phone, there was yet another issue to contend with, albeit one not specific only to Israeli elections: interference.
The relationship between Iran and Russia has been strengthened by the rising tensions between Tehran and Washington since Donald Trump took office, and there is no doubt that Iran views Russia as one of its closest allies. The Iranian foreign minister, Mohammad Javad Zarif, has traveled to Moscow some 28 times during his tenure, and has stated that relations between the two countries have never been better.
On Feb. 21, Iranians will be voting to elect a new Majlis, the country’s unicameral Parliament. Viewed from the outside, participating in the electoral system might seem futile. While the Iranian constitution recognizes popular will, as represented by an elected president and Parliament, the whole political system operates under the supreme leader, who, although appointed by an elected clerical body (the Assembly of Experts), is, in effect, answerable to no one. The Majlis does, however, have the power to remove the president — a fate that could potentially await President Hassan Rouhani if the conservatives win a majority in the upcoming elections.
As the world increasingly resembles a dystopian film from the 1970s and television news blurs ominously with scenes from Soylent Green, a recent collection of Palestinian science fiction proves both prescient and eerily contemporary.
Jordan’s response to President Donald Trump’s so-called “deal of the century” has been quick and unequivocal. Less than an hour after the release of the peace plan at a White House ceremony on Jan. 28, Jordanian Foreign Minister Ayman Safadi issued a statement in which he reiterated Amman’s support for the two-state solution and the Arab Peace Initiative (API) as the only path to a just and lasting settlement to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, without referring directly to the Trump proposal.
The communiqué, while largely symbolic, was nonetheless a major victory for Abbas’ beleaguered leadership.
Khaled Elgindy and Michael Koplow join host Alistair Taylor to discuss the long-awaited “deal of the century” Middle East peace plan. President Trump rolled the plan out at the White House on Tuesday with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in attendance, while the Palestinians, who have refused to deal with the administration since it recognized Jerusalem as Israel’s capital at the end of 2017, were not there – and not invited. How has it been received so far, and where might things go from here?
Iran and the U.S. were on a collision course as soon as President Donald Trump arrived at the White House in January 2017.
The administration’s goal is not peace but the normalization of Israel’s military rule over millions of Palestinians.
By any objective standard, the Lebanese protest movement has failed. This is not necessarily an indictment against it. Rather, it’s a reality one cannot and should not ignore. The responsible thing to do now is to try to understand why it has fallen flat, despite more than 100 days of demonstrations in various regions of the country including the capital, Beirut.
First, a word of solace. In the annals of history, the Lebanese are in good company as most uprisings and revolutions failed to attain their goals. And even when they did, success either didn’t last long or was completely reversed due to counterrevolutions and other spoilers, both foreign and domestic.
Over the past several weeks geopolitical experts have been talking a lot about what the surprise U.S. drone attack on Iranian Gen. Qassem Soleimani, head of the IRGC – Quds Force, on Jan. 3 means for the Middle East and relations between the major powers. What has received considerably less attention, however, is what Soleimani’s killing means for the South Caucasus, a region whose small size belies its strategic importance.
How did the Islamic Republic of Iran’s dominant narratives over labor evolve since the 1979 revolution? What paved the way to neoliberal discourses, particularly since the 1990s? Which processes and legal measures made workers precarious? What role did workers play, and along which lines did they develop their trajectories of resistance? These questions are at the core of this article, which explores the above-mentioned issues from two different vantage points: a top-down approach, which looks at official narratives, as well as the legal strategies that contribute to the precarization of workers; and a bottom-up perspective, which seeks to understand workers’ practices of resistance and counter-hegemonic actions.
Iranian Gen. Qassem Soleimani was on Israel’s “most wanted” list for more than a decade. Israeli intelligence identified him as a looming threat early in his career, and with time he outperformed even the graver threat predictions, as he systematically built the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ (IRGC) Quds Force into a formidable regional stealth operation. Soleimani was a highly sophisticated executioner of Iran’s long-term strategy, which can be described as an effort to build a “double crescent.”