Category: Asia

  • In Nepal, a Rare Political Consensus—But Against Social Media

    In Nepal, a Rare Political Consensus—But Against Social Media

    Nepal, once a bastion of political turmoil, has carved out a reputation as one of Asia’s freest nations—a distinction that rests firmly on the foundation of its 2015 constitution, which enshrined the right to free speech. In 2024, this hard-won freedom found a fresh affirmation when Nepal ranked 74th out of 180 on Reporters Without Borders’ World Press Freedom Index—an enviable position in a region where such liberties remain precarious. Yet, this hard-fought freedom is now under siege. A proposed bill to regulate social media has ignited fears that both Nepali citizens and foreign visitors might once again find their voices stifled, evoking the specter of past repressions under monarchic and communist rule. Critics have raised alarms, arguing that its broad, ambiguous language could be used to suppress political dissent and undermine the very rights the constitution was designed to protect. Even more alarming, Nepal’s political parties—long divided on nearly every issue—have found rare consensus on this bill, either remaining silent or, more troubling still, lending their endorsement. This unusual unity points to a disconcerting shift in the nation’s democratic trajectory, one that could redefine the landscape of free expression in the years to come.

    The new bill certainly has its merits, particularly in its focus on addressing online crimes—a concern that is echoed in similar measures around the world. There are legitimate reasons for regulating digital spaces, such as combating cyberbullying and misinformation, and few would argue against the importance of ensuring online safety. However, while the government frames the bill as a necessary step for digital regulation, several provisions seem to mirror the tactics of authoritarian regimes globally. The bill mandates social media account registration for businesses and grants authorities expansive powers to remove content deemed indecent or misleading. It would require all platforms operating in Nepal—including Facebook and X—to obtain government approval. Platforms that fail to comply could face bans, while individuals found guilty of spreading false information could face hefty fines and up to five years in prison. 

    Additionally, the bill criminalizes the use of anonymous or pseudonymous identities on social media, which raises serious concerns about privacy and freedom of expression. The legislation also imposes broad restrictions on digital expressions, prohibiting any online actions deemed harmful to national interests. Offenses such as hate speech, trolling, and the use of graphic images or videos to attack individuals would be punishable by law. While such restrictions are not uncommon in certain parts of Southeast Asia, the bill’s sweeping nature and vague language present a significant risk to free speech in Nepal—a country with a multiparty democracy that spans ideologies from communism to Hindu nationalism.

    The bill adopts a strict crime-and-punishment approach, criminalizing actions such as spreading rumors, using pseudonyms, or creating social media accounts without prior government approval. Critics argue that these provisions could encourage widespread self-censorship, particularly among intellectuals, and disproportionately affect those with limited digital literacy, who may unknowingly share misleading content. By penalizing anonymity through vague definitions and excessive state control, the legislation poses a significant threat to diverse voices and could severely curtail free expression in an increasingly digital world.

    It’s no surprise that many critics view the bill as an attempt to silence dissent and stifle public criticism, which has intensified due to the government’s underperformance despite its strong parliamentary majority. While social media influencers have rallied behind the hashtag #BolnaDeSarkar, meaning “Let us speak, government,” major political parties and mainstream media outlets have largely remained silent. Opposition parties, having supported similar measures when in power, have little incentive to oppose the bill. Meanwhile, mainstream media may see social media as a growing threat, with its erosion of both audience and revenue. In this context, social media has become a common target for many institutions.

    Under Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, the government remains resolute in advancing the bill. Nepal’s Information Minister, Prithvi Subba Gurung, has defended the proposal, arguing that it is essential to combat cyberbullying and other online offenses. Once the Rastriya Sabha approves the bill, lawmakers will have the opportunity to propose amendments. The bill will then move to the Pratinidhi Sabha for further deliberation before returning to the Rastriya Sabha for final review. Afterward, it will be sent to the president’s office for signing into law. With broad support from all political parties and mainstream media, the bill is expected to be enacted swiftly. This would place Nepal’s social media landscape under total government control, effectively silencing dissenting voices.

  • How Azerbaijan Found the Nerve to Stand Up to Russia

    How Azerbaijan Found the Nerve to Stand Up to Russia

    Russia is floundering on all fronts. Humiliated on the battlefield and steadily losing once-friendly nations in Europe, it faces mounting economic hardship, forced to sell its resources at cut-rate prices to China and India. Yet perhaps the greater indignity lies in the defiance of its former satellite states—once obedient, now emboldened to seek new alliances. The war in Ukraine, one of Putin’s most catastrophic miscalculations, has become a lingering nightmare for the Kremlin. Countries that once deferred to Moscow now openly challenge its authority. The latest to break ranks is Azerbaijan, a small but strategically significant Caucasus nation long dependent on Russia. As tensions rise over the downing of an Azerbaijani passenger jet, the standoff is yet another sign of Moscow’s eroding influence over its former empire.

    Azerbaijan has every right to be outraged after losing its citizens in what it considers a Russian mistake. Few, however, could have anticipated that the fallout would escalate into a full-blown standoff.

    On December 25, an Azerbaijan Airlines plane crashed near Aktau, Kazakhstan, killing 38 people after being rerouted across the Caspian Sea from southern Russia. In the aftermath, Azerbaijan’s president, Ilham Aliyev—a close ally of Vladimir Putin—accused Russia of accidentally shooting down the aircraft with its air defense system. He condemned Moscow for attempting to conceal the incident for days, calling the response shocking, regrettable, and a legitimate cause for indignation in Baku.

    In an unusual move, Putin expressed condolences and referred to the crash as a tragic incident, though he stopped short of admitting Russia’s responsibility—a response that only deepened Azerbaijan’s anger.

    Tensions have been high since the incident. On Wednesday, the APA news agency, closely tied to the Azerbaijani government, reported that Baku was preparing to take Russia to international court over the alleged downing of the plane. The agency disclosed that facts and evidence were being collected, with preparations underway for an official appeal. The article also delivered a pointed criticism of Moscow, accusing it of trying to evade responsibility for the incident.

    The report revealed that Azerbaijan had identified both the individuals who gave the order to fire and those who followed through with it. The article implied that Russia was trying to craft a scenario similar to the Malaysia Airlines incident, drawing a parallel to Moscow’s ongoing denial of responsibility for the 2014 downing of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH17 over eastern Ukraine. APA warned that unless Russia publicly acknowledged its role and took responsibility, Baku would escalate its response.

    The article, widely believed to have been published with the approval of local authorities in tightly controlled Azerbaijan, appeared a day after a report from Kazakh officials, which revealed that the plane had sustained external damage and had numerous holes in its fuselage. The report, however, was carefully worded and refrained from specifying the cause of the damage, including to the plane’s stabilizers, hydraulics, and trim systems. 

    On Thursday, tensions further escalated when Azerbaijan ordered Moscow to shut down the Russian House cultural center in Baku. The center, operated by Rossotrudnichestvo—a Russian federal agency viewed as a tool of Russian soft power and often suspected of functioning as a front for espionage and covert operations—was the target of this action. Simultaneously, Azerbaijani state media reported that Baku had sent a rare shipment of non-military aid to support Ukraine.

    What gives this small state, traditionally within Russia’s sphere of influence, the courage to engage in a dispute with the mighty Russia? Several factors are at play. First, Russia’s downfall is a significant motivator. When the war in Ukraine began, many expected that Ukraine would fall within a month, but now, three years later, Ukraine is still standing strong and has become a major ally of the West. Meanwhile, states like Sweden and Finland who refused to join the west previously  have joined NATO, and Russia has been unable to block them. Militarily, Russia is no longer perceived as a superpower, and Azerbaijan believes it can withstand challenges from Russia.

    Second, there’s the economic factor. Beyond the surface, Russia’s economy and businesses are struggling under the weight of sanctions. Tying Azerbaijan’s economy to Russia could cause trouble for Azerbaijan’s business interests as well. However, distancing itself from Russia opens up more economic freedom for Azerbaijan. This newfound confidence is also fueled by Azerbaijan’s growing role in the West’s energy plans, especially after the EU sought alternatives to Russian fossil fuels.

    Azerbaijan’s stance is also part of a broader regional trend. Its longtime rival, Armenia, publicly broke with the Kremlin after Russian peacekeeping forces failed to prevent Azerbaijan from seizing control of Nagorno-Karabakh in 2023. Armenia became the first country to leave the Russia-led Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO) and began turning to the West and Iran for support. Recently, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan even hinted at pursuing EU membership.

    In neighboring Georgia, thousands have taken to the streets, pushing for Western support. Azerbaijan, however, is not necessarily looking to Europe for support. With Turkey, a key ally and fellow ethnic partner, in power, Azerbaijan sees strengthening its ties with Turkey as a route to greater Western alignment. This shift also reflects a broader change in the Middle East, where Iran’s influence, along with Russia’s, is waning. More countries, including Lebanon and Syria, are gravitating toward pro-Western governments, and Azerbaijan could easily join this trend.

    Many still believe that President Aliyev is playing a delicate game, leveraging his close ties with Moscow to manage the situation. By escalating tensions with Russia, he may be attempting to redirect public anger over the incident, easing pressure on his regime and preventing mass protests. Despite the apparent standoff, Azerbaijan and Russia remain deeply intertwined economically and politically, and some caution against assuming a complete break.

    In recent years, Azerbaijan has solidified its economic ties with Russia, with Moscow increasingly dependent on Azerbaijan as a crucial transit hub. Perched on the Caspian Sea, Azerbaijan facilitates the movement of goods to and from Iran and the Persian Gulf, helping Russia circumvent Western sanctions and tap into new markets. While some in Moscow hold out hope that a genuine apology could mollify tensions and restore the status quo, one cannot help but wonder: Has Azerbaijan grown strong enough to challenge the once-unstoppable Russia? Or could it be that Russia’s grip has weakened to such a degree that even a small power like Azerbaijan now dares to stand in opposition?

  • Sara Duterte’s Impeachment: When Political Heirs Flunk the Job

    Sara Duterte’s Impeachment: When Political Heirs Flunk the Job

    Philippine politics, often regarded as one of the world’s most troubled democracies, feels like a script lifted from third-rate Indian films—a full-on drama with a cast of characters drawn from powerful dynasties. The narrative is laced with an unhealthy dose of masala: intrigue, betrayal, and a penchant for bloodshed. The latest installment, starring President Marcos Jr. and Vice President Sara Duterte, is performing well in the Philippines’ political theater. The revenge story now reaches its dramatic, inevitable climax. Duterte, embroiled in accusations ranging from plotting the assassination of the president to large-scale corruption and failing to confront China’s aggressive actions in the South China Sea, has finally faced impeachment.

    On Wednesday, legislators in the House of Representatives, many of them allies of President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., deepened the political rift between the country’s two highest leaders by advancing an impeachment complaint against the vice president. With at least 215 lawmakers signing the petition—well beyond the required threshold—the complaint was swiftly sent to the Senate, which would serve as the tribunal for the proceedings, according to House Secretary-General Reginald Velasco during the chamber’s final session before a four-month recess. Among the signatories were Representative Sandro Marcos, the president’s son, and Speaker Martin Romualdez. The complaint called on the Senate to convene as an impeachment court, convict the vice president, remove her from office, and disqualify her from holding any future public office. It accused her of betraying public trust, abusing power in a tyrannical manner, and showing an inability to hold public office, with actions that demonstrated a disregard for the 1987 Constitution.

    The Marcos and Duterte families remain locked in a political battle that has stymied the Philippines’ progress, with their contrasting policies—especially in foreign affairs—fueling divisions. While Marcos has strengthened defense ties with the United States, his predecessor, former president Rodrigo Duterte, cultivated close relations with China and Russia during his turbulent term, which ended in 2022. Despite these differences, the two families unexpectedly allied during the 2022 presidential election, securing Marcos Jr. the presidency and Sara Duterte the vice presidency. However, their alliance swiftly unraveled, giving rise to a fierce power struggle.

    Though often seen as politically inexperienced, Sara Duterte has gradually carved out her own influence, distancing herself from Marcos’s circle. As this political drama unfolds, she has become a central figure in Philippine politics, attracting public attention in a country where political rivalries often shape leadership prospects. Many now view her as the Duterte family’s strongest candidate for the presidency in 2028.

    However, the impeachment process carries significant risks for her. If the Senate upholds the charges, she would be barred from future elections. While Sara Duterte has not yet responded publicly to her impeachment, her brother, Representative Paolo Duterte, has condemned it as a clear act of political persecution. He accused rival lawmakers of hastily gathering signatures to push a baseless case to the Senate. Duterte has consistently leveled accusations of corruption, weak leadership, and attempts to silence her against Marcos, his wife, and his cousin, House Speaker Martin Romualdez, speculating that they are targeting her due to fears she may challenge Marcos for the presidency once his six-year term concludes in 2028.

    The impeachment complaint against the vice president centers on a death threat she allegedly made against the president, his wife, and the House speaker last year, as well as accusations of irregularities in the use of her office’s intelligence funds and her failure to take a strong stance against Chinese aggression in the disputed South China Sea. 

    During an online news conference on November 23, she stated that she had contracted an assassin to kill Marcos, his wife, and Romualdez if she were assassinated, emphasizing that her words were not meant as a joke. She later clarified that she was not issuing a threat but expressing concerns for her own safety. However, as a member of a powerful political dynasty, she failed to recognize the gravity of making such statements about the country’s leader. Her remarks triggered an official investigation and raised national security concerns.

    Allegations of graft and corruption against the vice president stemmed from a months-long, televised House investigation into the alleged misuse of 612.5 million pesos ($10.5 million) in confidential and intelligence funds allocated to her offices as vice president and education secretary. Her political rift with Marcos eventually led to her departure from the education post.

    She has also faced accusations of unexplained wealth and failing to disclose her assets as required by law. However, she has repeatedly refused to address these allegations in detail, remaining evasive during tense televised hearings last year.

    However, this battle is as much about the next elections as it is about governance. The Philippine general elections are scheduled for May, but the 2028 presidential race is the real prize. Sara Duterte has already signaled her interest, positioning herself as a strong and decisive leader—an image that resonates with the country’s electorate, which has long gravitated toward tough-talking politicians.

    Her fate now rests with the 24 senators, two-thirds of whom must vote for her impeachment to remove her from office. A conviction would not only unseat her but also bar her from holding any future government position, effectively ending her presidential ambitions. But this is the Philippines—where political twists are always unpredictable.

  • Four Years In: Where Myanmar’s Civil War Stands Now

    Four Years In: Where Myanmar’s Civil War Stands Now

    While the world’s attention remains fixed on the Russia-Ukraine war—largely due to Europe’s involvement—and the Israel-Hamas conflict, which has deepened religious divisions, another war continues to unfold largely unnoticed. As global headlines focus on Gaza and Ukraine, Myanmar’s civil war rages on, drawing little international concern. For many, the country is little more than the backdrop of a viral meme featuring a dancing instructor oblivious to military tanks rolling past her during the 2021 coup. That coup dismantled Myanmar’s democratic government, plunging the nation into a relentless conflict between the military junta and various ethnic armed groups. Now in its fourth year, the war has inflicted widespread devastation, forcing mass displacement and causing staggering human losses. With no immediate resolution in sight, many believe the junta’s hold on power is weakening, raising the prospect of Myanmar fracturing along ethnic lines.

    Four years into the conflict, resistance to Myanmar’s military junta has only intensified. A BBC study estimates that the regime now controls just 21% of the country’s territory, as it battles the People’s Defence Force—formed by the opposition National Unity Government, comprised of remnants of the National League for Democracy (NLD), which won Myanmar’s last democratic election—alongside long-standing ethnic armed groups resisting Naypyidaw’s rule.

    Despite losing 95 towns, key trade routes, hundreds of military bases, and two regional commands, the junta still holds Myanmar’s major cities and central regions, making its removal far from imminent. Yet internal fractures are deepening, with growing calls for its leader, Min Aung Hlaing, to step down. In its desperation, the military continues to deploy brutal tactics—mass killings, torture, sexual violence, and relentless airstrikes on civilian areas. Any effort to further restrict its access to jet fuel should be pursued. The toll has been catastrophic: more than 4 million people displaced, half the population forced into poverty, and fewer than half with access to electricity. Rakhine State, one of the few places that occasionally draws international attention due to its Muslim population, is reported to have an especially dire crisis. The UN warns of imminent famine, with the Rohingya Muslim community particularly vulnerable—trapped between the military, which has forcibly conscripted men, and the Arakan Army, which accuses them of siding with the junta.

    For many in Myanmar, military rule no longer feels like an inevitability. The junta’s refusal to compromise has convinced its opponents that a negotiated settlement is out of reach. Fears of post-junta chaos—and the potential toll on civilians—are understandable. Opposition groups have committed human rights abuses of their own and remain deeply divided, with often conflicting agendas. There is also concern about how a coalition government could function given these vast differences. However, despite these challenges, the opposition has managed to cooperate in surprising ways over the past four years.

    The dramatic rebel advances of late October 2023 were made possible by China’s quiet backing of an alliance of ethnic armed groups, frustrated by the junta’s failure to curb cross-border criminal networks. But Beijing has since cut off arms supplies and key imports, now viewing the regime’s survival as its best chance to secure resources, maintain stability, and keep U.S. influence at bay. Notably, China has emerged as the strongest advocate for elections this year—an exercise that would be both a sham, given the 21,000 political prisoners in detention, and a logistical impossibility, as opposition forces have vowed to disrupt them.

    Meanwhile, U.S. policy shifts are already having dire consequences. The Trump administration’s attacks on the National Endowment for Democracy threaten civic groups providing critical support to Myanmar’s population and would be essential in rebuilding the country. The freeze on USAID operations has already led to the withdrawal of medical care for 100,000 refugees in Thailand. 

    Beyond China and the US, other regional and global powers have a vested interest in Myanmar’s future. India, Thailand, and Europe are involved in varying degrees, with the West supporting the National Unity Government (NUG). However, the cooperation of ethnic armed groups in any future government remains uncertain. A federal union might be the best possible solution for Myanmar, but these groups, now deeply entrenched in their ethnic identities, govern their own territories like independent entities.

    Take the Arakan Army, for example. It controls nearly all of Rakhine State, except for Sittwe, and operates autonomously, despite its nominal alliance with the NUG. If it were to receive support from other nations, it would likely push for full independence. The same applies to other ethnic groups, which, while currently united against the junta, could ultimately seek their own sovereignty.

    As Myanmar marks the fourth anniversary of its civil war, it’s clear that a unified Myanmar, whether under military or civilian rule, is increasingly unrealistic. The coup and subsequent civil war have fractured the country. What remains is a power struggle among multiple factions, each vying for control.

  • Saudi Arabia Reclaims Its Regional Clout with Syria’s Embrace

    Saudi Arabia Reclaims Its Regional Clout with Syria’s Embrace

    The Middle East’s power struggle, once a contest between U.S.-led allies and a Russian-backed bloc, now tilts decisively in Washington’s favor. Russia’s decline and Iran’s mounting troubles have given the United States and its staunchest ally, Saudi Arabia, a commanding edge. While Washington and Moscow shaped the broader conflict, the fight on the ground unfolded between Iran and its proxies and a Saudi-led coalition that, despite internal rifts, often included Israel and Turkey. By 2025, the U.S.-Saudi alliance had everything falling into place. Israel crushed Hamas, Lebanon installed a pro-Western president, and Syria—long the region’s geopolitical fault line—found itself under an administration deeply tied to Turkey and Saudi Arabia. Many assumed Turkey would wield the greatest influence over Syria’s new leadership. But when President Al-Shaara made Saudi Arabia his first foreign destination, the message was unmistakable: Riyadh is back, reclaiming its place as the Middle East’s dominant power and the Islamic world’s standard-bearer, after years of ceding ground to Iran.

    Syria’s transitional president, Ahmed al-Sharaa, met with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman in Riyadh on Sunday, making his first foreign visit since taking office—a move that highlights shifting regional dynamics. Sharaa, who seized power last week after leading the uprising that ousted Iran-backed Bashar al-Assad, now faces the challenge of reintegrating Syria into the Arab fold after nearly 14 years of war. In a written statement, he said the talks focused on humanitarian and economic cooperation, as well as long-term plans in energy, technology, education, and health. Saudi Arabia’s state news agency reported that the discussions also covered strengthening bilateral ties and addressing key regional developments.

    Sharaa and his group, Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), are widely associated with Sunni Islamic extremism and have been accused of committing harsh acts against Alawites, other Shia groups, and Kurds in Syria. His leadership reflects a strong Sunni identity, reinforced by his personal background—born in Saudi Arabia and having spent part of his childhood there. By making Saudi Arabia his first official visit, Sharaa is signaling that Sunni Islamism is the guiding ideology of his administration and that Riyadh, its traditional power center, is his primary patron.

    Since Assad’s fall, Syria’s new leadership has worked to strengthen ties with both Arab and Western governments, with Saudi Arabia taking the lead in this effort. Riyadh hosted Syria’s new foreign and defense ministers in early January, followed by a high-level meeting with Syrian, Arab, and Western officials later that month. Initially, there was speculation about whether Sharaa’s alignment with Turkey or his connections with Qatar would shape his foreign policy. Qatar’s emir, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al-Thani, was the first head of state to visit Damascus after Assad’s ouster in December, suggesting strong ties. However, despite maintaining a balanced relationship with both Ankara and Doha, Sharaa’s priorities now lean toward Saudi Arabia.

    Syria’s renewed ties with Arab leaders signal a sharp break from the years of isolation that followed Assad’s brutal crackdown on the 2011 protests, which led to the country’s suspension from the Arab League for more than a decade.

    For Saudi Arabia, the past four years under Biden marked a period of political and economic turbulence, a stark contrast to the unrestrained confidence of the Trump era. The kingdom found itself navigating a more complicated regional landscape, even losing some influence over traditional satellites like the UAE, which increasingly asserted its own interests and distanced itself from Riyadh’s shadow. Yet, despite these setbacks, the broader currents of international politics have begun to shift in Saudi Arabia’s favor.

    With Trump’s return to power, the U.S. once again needs a reliable Middle Eastern proxy, and no partner fits the role better than Riyadh. Under a renewed Republican administration, Saudi Arabia is poised not just to solidify its dominance in the region but to extend its influence, pulling more countries into its orbit—Syria now among them. After a brief period of recalibration, the kingdom is positioning itself back at the center of global politics, reclaiming its role as a primary powerhouse in the Middle East.

  • From Insurgency to the Presidency: Syria’s Uncertain Bet on Ahmed al-Sharaa

    From Insurgency to the Presidency: Syria’s Uncertain Bet on Ahmed al-Sharaa

    Nearly two months after the collapse of the Assad regime, Syria has a new president. Ahmed al-Sharaa, the supreme leader of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), has emerged as the head of a transitional government, ending Bashar al-Assad’s twenty four-year rule with an insurrection that upended what remained of Syria’s fragile status quo. Al-Sharaa’s rise is no ordinary political evolution. Once a fugitive, he has spent decades navigating the murky underworld of militant jihadism, his career spanning al-Qaeda, Jund al-Sham, and, most notably, Jabhat al-Nusra, the Syrian branch of al-Qaeda that later morphed into HTS. Under his leadership, HTS orchestrated the final push against Assad’s forces, forging a tenuous alliance of Islamist factions united less by shared governance ambitions than by their mutual enmity toward the old regime. Yet, for all its battlefield triumphs, HTS remains an organization steeped in an ideology that much of the world considers extremist, its name etched onto lists of terrorist entities from Washington to Moscow.

    Ahmed al-Sharaa, who has functioned as Syria’s de facto ruler since early December, was formally appointed president on Wednesday following a meeting of rebel faction leaders. The announcement, delivered by a military spokesperson, marked a sweeping reorganization of the country’s political and security structures.

    As part of the changes, Syria’s parliament was dissolved, to be replaced by an appointed legislative council, while the country’s 2012 constitution was formally annulled. The existing military and security agencies were also disbanded, with new institutions set to take their place. Additionally, all armed factions in Syria are to be dismantled and integrated into a unified national army. On paper, the order applies to all groups, including HTS, though the group—Syria’s dominant power—was conspicuously left unnamed.

    Sharaa has taken a more pragmatic tone in his push for international recognition, calling for inclusivity and unity in Syria. Following his appointment, he outlined three immediate priorities: filling the power vacuum, preserving civil peace, and building state institutions.

    The transitional government is officially set to transfer power to a new administration in March, though how this will unfold remains uncertain. In an interview with the UAE based media, Al Arabiya last month, Sharaa suggested that elections could take up to four years, while drafting a new constitution might take three. He has promised to hold a national dialogue conference to ensure a more representative post-Assad era, yet the event has been repeatedly postponed. So far, his meetings have been mostly with individuals rather than political parties, raising doubts about the scope of his efforts toward inclusivity.

    The dissolution of Syria’s military factions remains a contentious issue as the interim government, dominated by HTS appointees, works to consolidate power. The role and future of these armed groups have become central concerns in the country’s fragile transition.

    In mid-January, the Syrian Ministry of Defense announced plans to hold consultations with various factions to explore the creation of a unified military. But the challenges are considerable. Many radical Islamist rebel groups—particularly those within the Turkish-backed Syrian National Army—lack HTS’s organizational discipline and differ significantly in ideology. The sudden collapse of the Assad regime has also left vast stockpiles of weapons, tanks, and artillery scattered across Syria, some of which have already been seized by insurgent groups, further complicating efforts to impose centralized military control.

    With Kurdish forces controlling significant territory and various other factions still holding land, the question of how Sharaa will unify the country remains unresolved. In an effort to consolidate power, he and the minister of defense have held near-daily meetings with rebel groups, appointing their leaders to key positions in the interim government, including governorships of provinces. Yet, the ideological divide between HTS and other factions—particularly the Kurds, whose vision for Syria starkly differs—poses a serious challenge.

    Foreign interests further complicate Sharaa’s path. While Iran has withdrawn much of its influence, certain factions remain in the country and are expected to cooperate with the new government. If Israel de-escalates its conflict with Lebanon, its attention could once again shift to Syria. Meanwhile, Turkey’s staunch opposition to Kurdish autonomy presents another obstacle, as does the involvement of Qatar and Saudi Arabia, both of which are likely to assert their own strategic interests.

    For Sharaa and the Sunni Islamist factions aligned with him, securing the trust of Syria’s minorities—particularly Christians, Alawites, and Kurds—will be critical. Without their inclusion, Western powers are unlikely to offer support, and Syria risks spiraling into yet another protracted civil war.

    As negotiations between the new government and the Kurds continue, the conflict between the Kurdish-backed Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) and the Turkish-backed Syrian National Army in northern Syria escalates. The Kurds find themselves in a vulnerable position, with U.S. support for their cause diminishing under the Trump administration, while Turkey remains steadfast in its efforts to weaken them. Faced with limited options, the Kurds are likely to prioritize flight over confrontation, which will only prolong the conflict and fuel further insurgencies from various groups. This may lead to the extended rule of Sharaa, who has proven adept at managing crises. Such patterns are all too familiar in the Middle East, and under Sharaa, Syria does not appear to be charting a different course.

  • Myanmar’s Junta and Rebels Strike a Truce: How Long Can It Hold?

    Myanmar’s Junta and Rebels Strike a Truce: How Long Can It Hold?

    While the world’s attention fixated on the dramatic and much-publicized ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, a quieter but no less significant peace agreement took shape in Southeast Asia—largely unnoticed by the global media. Myanmar’s junta, which overthrew a democratically elected government in 2021 and plunged the country into an increasingly brutal civil war, reached a ceasefire with the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA), an ethnic rebel group from the country’s northeastern territories. China, with its strategic interests in maintaining ties to both parties, acted as mediator, and on January 18, the two sides finalized the agreement. This truce, forged in Kunming, a border city in southwestern China, represents a clear diplomatic victory for both Beijing and Myanmar’s military government. This is the second such truce mediated in Kunming within the past year, underscoring China’s growing role as a power broker in Myanmar’s tumultuous civil war.

    The Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA), a rebel group composed of the ethnic Chinese Kokang minority, is a key player within Myanmar’s “Three Brotherhood Alliance” coalition. Founded in 1989, it was the first such group to enter into a ceasefire agreement with the Burmese government. This truce, which endured for nearly two decades, allowed the central government to formally recognize the Kokang region as “Shan State Special Region 1,” and ushered in a period of economic prosperity driven by illicit ventures. Opium cultivation and heroin production fueled both the MNDAA’s coffers and those of the Myanmar Armed Forces (Tatmadaw), as the region, strategically positioned near the Chinese border, became a nexus for illegal trade.

    But in 2009, this fragile peace collapsed. Relations between the Kokang forces and the central government turned bitter, and the MNDAA was violently ousted, with many members fleeing into China. The region has been embroiled in a vicious cycle of conflict ever since, with the 2021 military coup igniting new waves of violence. As the civil war escalated, the MNDAA, along with various other rebel factions, banded together in a multi-front struggle against the junta, their armed resistance a symbol of defiance in the face of Myanmar’s fractured political landscape.

    In January of last year, the Myanmar National Democratic Alliance Army (MNDAA) and the junta, under the watchful eye of Beijing, signed a ceasefire in Kunming, the capital of China’s southwestern Yunnan province. The pact, however, unraveled within six months, swallowed by the shifting tides of Myanmar’s entrenched conflicts. This year, China has stepped in again to broker another truce, and while skepticism abounds, observers suggest it might last longer. Beijing’s firmer intervention, combined with the junta’s increasingly precarious position, has made breaching the agreement a more onerous prospect. For now, China’s calculated pressure offers a flicker of hope for a temporary calm in a landscape dominated by turmoil.

    China’s 2,000-kilometer border with Myanmar underscores its deep entanglement in the country’s political and military turmoil. Beijing maintains close ties with both the ruling junta and an array of rebel groups, including the Kachin Independence Army, which is advancing south against government forces, and the Three Brotherhood Alliance, which has seized military outposts and towns near the Chinese border since 2023. For China, the stakes of Myanmar’s conflict extend well beyond regional instability: the fighting imperils border security, disrupts trade routes, and threatens Beijing’s extensive infrastructure investments in the region.

    Northern Myanmar, with its heavy reliance on China for communication infrastructure, energy initiatives, and financial support, risks severe economic disruption if the China-brokered ceasefire collapses. In a calculated move to reinforce stability, Beijing reopened all border crossings in MNDAA-controlled areas shortly after the truce was finalized. However, Myanmar’s value to China extends far beyond economic interdependence. Its strategic location provides Beijing with a crucial gateway to the Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean, offering an alternative route to the fraught waters of the South China Sea.

    Beijing remains acutely attuned to the evolving dynamics in Myanmar, particularly the deepening ties between India and the Arakan Army, another influential rebel faction, and the growing Western support for the National Unity Government, the opposition to the junta. For China, stability in Myanmar is not a matter of altruism but necessity. A peaceful and fully democratic Myanmar may not align with Beijing’s strategic vision, but a measure of stability is essential to safeguarding its economic interests and geopolitical influence. For Beijing, peace is less about shared ideals and more about securing access, preserving influence, and safeguarding the uninterrupted pursuit of its regional ambitions—a hope it now pins on the success of the current ceasefire.

  • Why Doesn’t India Have a Strong Third National Party?

    Why Doesn’t India Have a Strong Third National Party?

    India, the largest democracy in the world with more than 900 million voters, has over 1,000 political parties. These parties can be categorized under various criteria—politics-based, caste-based, interest-based, or even fan groups of cinema actors, who also participate in Indian elections as registered political parties. This diverse landscape makes Indian politics fascinating, with elections often described as the biggest festivals in the country.

    However, the most significant criterion for classifying political parties is their registration status with the Election Commission of India. According to the latest publication dated March 23, 2024, by the Election Commission, there are six national parties, 58 state parties, and 2,763 unrecognized or local parties. Each category has specific criteria for recognition. For instance, a national party must meet one of the following conditions: win 11 Lok Sabha seats from at least three different states, poll 6% of votes in four or more states and win four Lok Sabha seats, or gain recognition as a state party in four states.

    Under these criteria, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), Indian National Congress (INC), Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP), Aam Aadmi Party (AAP), Communist Party of India (Marxist), and National People’s Party (NPP) qualify as national parties.

    Despite these classifications, only the BJP and the INC can truly be considered national parties in terms of nationwide presence and organizational reach. No other party has a pan-India support base or the ability to consistently win more than 10 seats out of the 543 in the Lok Sabha. This trend, visible long before the 2014 general election, became more pronounced when Narendra Modi’s leadership framed Indian politics as a contest between Hindutva and anti-Hindutva narratives. Today, India’s 1.4 billion people largely choose between these two parties and their ideologies, rather than benefiting from a truly functional multi-party system.

    There are several reasons behind this phenomenon. One is the way Indian politics operates, with a strong attachment to socialism or center-right ideologies. This creates a narrow spectrum where major parties compete, leaving little room for diverse offerings. Another factor is the worship-like style of Indian politics, making it difficult for new parties to break through. Additionally, agenda-setting plays a crucial role. Indian politics often divides into two dominant camps, each setting the political narrative in a way that leaves little room for other parties to gain traction.

    Communication barriers further exacerbate the issue. Beyond word-of-mouth channels, many leaders or organizations struggle to connect with the populace, as a significant number of people lack access to print or television media. Established parties already dominate these communication channels, leaving little opportunity for emerging parties to reach a broader audience. These, along with several other factors, make it challenging for new political entities to establish themselves in India’s political landscape.

    When we examine the history of Indian elections, it is unsurprising that the country’s vast political landscape has predominantly been dominated by two major parties, representing two broad political ideologies. During the 1980s and 1990s, however, India occasionally witnessed contests involving three or even four significant parties. For example, in the elections of 1989, 1991, and 1996, in addition to the Indian National Congress (INC) and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), parties like the Janata Dal and the Communist Party held considerable sway and fiercely contested for control of New Delhi.

    Outside of these exceptions, most general elections have been two-way contests, evolving into what can be described as a “two-tent” system. Despite the diversity among India’s political parties, alliances often form during elections, consolidating around two dominant factions. This trend has become a recurring pattern in Indian electoral politics, especially following the period of INC’s dominance after independence.

    It is noteworthy that no third political force in India today has the widespread appeal or organizational reach to secure significant representation across multiple states. Janata Dal, once a powerful player, fragmented into numerous smaller factions and has since lost its national relevance. Similarly, the Communist Party, once a robust third force, now faces an existential crisis. The Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP), which emerged as a champion of Dalit politics with a genuinely national agenda and representation from diverse states, has also faded into relative obscurity due to a lack of direction.

    The Aam Aadmi Party (AAP), which burst onto the political scene with significant momentum and the promise of becoming India’s third major national party, appears to have stalled, increasingly resembling a regional entity. Meanwhile, the National People’s Party (NPP), a Northeastern-based national party, seems uninterested in expanding its influence beyond its home region.

    A strong third political party can reinvigorate democracy, offering voters a genuine alternative and enriching the national dialogue. In India, however, no such party has emerged with the ability to secure even 10 percent of the seats in the Lok Sabha. In the 2024 elections, the Samajwadi Party (SP)—a regional force with deep roots in Uttar Pradesh—managed to carve out a notable, yet modest, position as the third-largest party, winning 37 seats. The All India Trinamool Congress (AITC) and the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) were the only other parties to cross the 20-seat mark. However, all three remain state-centric. DMK’s politics is rooted in Tamil Nadu, showing little interest or involvement in national issues. While the Samajwadi Party and AITC have shown stronger potential, significant hurdles remain.

    The SP’s 37 seats mark one of the strongest performances by a third party in recent Indian elections, rivaling the AIADMK’s 37 seats in 2014. However, unlike AIADMK, which is confined to Tamil Nadu with its 39 Lok Sabha seats, the SP hails from Uttar Pradesh, which offers 80 seats. Additionally, the SP has previously established a presence in other states like Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh. The party’s vote base includes OBCs and Muslims, groups that often feel politically marginalized and disconnected from the Indian National Congress. With Akhilesh Yadav as its young, charismatic leader, the SP has the potential to expand into the Hindi belt and other states with significant Muslim populations. However, its dynastic politics raises concerns that it may follow the path of its predecessor, Janata Dal, which eventually disintegrated.

    There is a visible political vacuum, as voters seeking an alternative to the BJP often avoid the Indian National Congress. This opens a window of opportunity for the SP. However, for this to materialize, Akhilesh Yadav must strategize effectively, particularly given reports of friction between the Congress and the SP within the opposition alliance, INDIA. A divergence could prompt the SP to strengthen its independent ambitions.

    Similarly, the AITC holds potential. While the party’s current focus remains on West Bengal, where it is dominant, its influence could extend into northeastern states. The Congress’s decline presents an opportunity for the AITC, as both parties share a similar voter base. Being a Congress offshoot, the AITC is well-positioned to attract disillusioned Congress leaders and supporters unhappy with its leadership. With 42 seats in West Bengal and 25 in the northeastern states, the AITC has room to grow in regions previously held by the Congress.

    Both the SP and the AITC represent possible contenders for becoming India’s third political force, but success will require strategic planning and expansion beyond their traditional strongholds. The path is fraught with challenges, yet the shifting political landscape offers unique opportunities for growth and influence.

    Many experts believe that, aside from the two dominant parties, the emergence of a third party in India would likely stem from a spin-off. However, this seems less likely in the current political climate. The BJP, which has built its strength through a solid ideological foundation, systematic organization, and leadership, is not at risk of a major split, as it has consolidated its influence around its charismatic leadership. Similarly, the Indian National Congress has already undergone multiple splits and cannot afford more without risking a complete loss of influence. In recent times, no significant divisions have been visible in either party.

    Another possibility could be the merger of smaller parties to form a larger political force, but this is unlikely to succeed, as ambitious leaders often prioritize their own interests rather than working together for the greater good. Political consolidation among smaller parties faces significant challenges, especially with leaders who are reluctant to cede control.

    In a multiparty state with such a large population, it is a disgrace that the political agenda is set by just two dominant parties. Sadly, this is the reality of India.  However, unless state parties like the SP and AITC decide to grow, or the BSP and AAP refine their strategies, or new spin-offs and mergers take place, the status quo will persist. This will lead Indian politics in the direction of the United States, offering voters only two viable options—and that is detrimental to the health of democracy.

  • Curtains for Imran Khan? Inside Pakistan’s Bid to End His Career

    Curtains for Imran Khan? Inside Pakistan’s Bid to End His Career

    Pakistan’s government, military, and other authorities are actively sidelining the populist former Prime Minister Imran Khan, aiming to remove him from mainstream politics, even as he continues to command significant public support. His popularity exposes the stark contrast between him and the entrenched nepotistic political elite that has long dominated Pakistan’s power structures. Supporters rallying behind Khan and his banned party are disrupting the alliance of the military, political leaders, and elites. In response, the authorities have inundated him with charges and systematically closed all avenues for his return to mainstream politics.

    Imran Khan’s story is fascinating, tracing his journey from a celebrated cricket star to one of the most hunted figures in Pakistan. Once the poster boy of the nation, Khan excelled first as a cricket legend, leading Pakistan to its first World Cup victory as captain, and later as a politician who defied traditional party lines to become Pakistan’s Prime Minister. He led his party, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), to victory, governing from 2018 to 2022. However, Khan’s tenure ended abruptly after he lost the support of the powerful military and was ousted through a no-confidence vote backed by dynastic and corrupt political rivals.

    Since his removal, authorities have relentlessly pursued him, though his supporters argue that while he is not entirely free from allegations of corruption, the current rulers—embroiled in far greater scandals—are spared such scrutiny. Speculation persists that Khan’s ouster stemmed not only from political reasons but also from tensions with the military, which some allege has ties to Britain and the West. Reports suggest military leaders were displeased with Khan’s deepening relationship with China, fueling friction. Khan publicly accused the army leadership of plotting his assassination, a claim that escalated tensions further.

    As Pakistan, often described as a military-dominated state, grappled with these power struggles, the establishment appeared determined to remove Khan from the political arena altogether, cementing his fall from grace.

    In a significant escalation against Imran Khan, the court sentenced the former prime minister to 14 years in prison on corruption charges on January 17, further compounding his legal troubles. Authorities have already detained Khan for more than 18 months while pursuing over 100 cases against him. The court found Khan and his wife, Bushra Bibi, guilty of illegally acquiring valuable plots of land worth billions of rupees through a corrupt deal with a property tycoon. In addition to the prison sentence, Khan received a fine of 1 million Pakistani rupees, while Bibi was handed a seven-year sentence.

    The accountability court, specially convened inside Rawalpindi’s Adiala Prison where Khan has been held since his arrest in August 2023, delivered the verdict. Bibi was arrested in the courtroom immediately after the ruling. Khan has consistently claimed that the cases against him are part of a broader “political witch hunt” designed to prevent his return to power.

    Since his arrest, Imran Khan has faced an increasing number of charges, including murder, terrorism, and breaching national security. He was convicted in three cases, including for selling state secrets and an illegal marriage, but those convictions were later overturned or suspended last year. Despite this, Khan has remained in prison.

    On Friday, following the verdict of 14 years in prison, reports emerged that senior PTI members had met with military leadership to discuss a possible compromise. However, speaking outside the court after his conviction, Khan emphasized that he would not engage in any backdoor deals to secure his freedom. He made it clear that he would neither make any deal nor seek any relief, asserting that those who oppose dictatorship are punished.

    Khan seems to be embracing the role of a martyr, gaining considerable support from the public who see him as a symbol of resistance against a failing system. As a result, many people have been rallying in large-scale demonstrations to show their solidarity with him.

    There is no doubt about the widespread corruption in Pakistan, with Imran Khan also being a part of it. However, as he faces punishment, the outcome isn’t sending a clear message against corruption. Instead, it fuels public sympathy for him, underscoring the growing disillusionment with the system. This deep-seated corruption has played a significant role in Pakistan’s struggles as a failed state, with many living in extreme poverty. It seems that the public increasingly views Imran Khan as a symbol of resistance. 

    Once heralded as the heir to the prosperous Mughal Empire, Pakistan now finds itself grappling with a severe crisis caused by its broken system. In this context, Imran Khan has become a symbol of the people’s hatred toward the political establishment. The authorities, fearing the growing public support for Khan, are determined to stop him at any cost.

  • Yoon Suk Yeol Finally Arrested: What Happens Next?

    Yoon Suk Yeol Finally Arrested: What Happens Next?

    After weeks of high drama, authorities arrested Yoon Suk Yeol, making him the first sitting president in the country’s history to face arrest. His detention, carried out by the Corruption Investigation Office, came after weeks of legal maneuvers and logistical challenges. Yoon was accused of insurrection linked to his brief declaration of martial law in early December. The standoff between the police and the president’s security service heightened the intensity of the saga. In early January, Yoon’s security team confronted police and prosecutors attempting to execute an initial arrest warrant, forcing them to retreat and secure a second warrant. Undeterred by this setback, police returned on Wednesday with an estimated 3,000 officers and successfully executed the second warrant, taking Yoon into custody. Public protests further fueled the tension, with demonstrators both supporting and opposing Yoon. Notably, opposition voices outweighed those of his supporters.

    Yoon Suk Yeol can be held for up to 48 hours for questioning under the existing arrest warrant, according to media reports. After this period, authorities must decide whether to release him or seek a fresh warrant, allowing for an additional 20 days of detention. While serious allegations have been made against Yoon, he has not yet been formally charged. Inciting insurrection is one of the few crimes for which South Korean presidents have no immunity. If convicted, he could face a heavy fine, imprisonment, or even the death penalty, though South Korea has had a moratorium on executions for years. Unsurprisingly, His legal team has condemned his detention as illegal.

    While Yoon undergoes questioning in the criminal case, South Korea’s constitutional court is reviewing whether to uphold the mid-December parliamentary vote to impeach him or dismiss it, allowing him to return to office and complete his five-year term. The court has 180 days from December 14 to make a decision, and analysts do not expect the eight justices to reach a quick conclusion, given the gravity of the political crisis South Korea has faced over the past five weeks. The court’s decision must be unanimous; otherwise, it will save Yoon’s presidency.

    The dual political and criminal cases against Yoon will unfold in the coming weeks and months, though the ultimate outcome remains uncertain. In the worst-case scenario for Yoon, he could face a criminal trial on insurrection charges and be ousted from office by the constitutional court.

    Yoon Suk Yeol’s arrest doesn’t mark the end of the turbulent period in South Korean politics that began with his declaration of martial law; rather, it elevates the political feud in the country. Despite his controversial actions, the president who declared martial law still retains support from his party and a segment of the population, highlighting the deep divisions within South Korean politics. They believe that Yoon is being targeted by left-wing politicians, with North Korea supposedly behind the move, and numerous conspiracy theories have emerged. On the other hand, the opposition believes Yoon is playing dangerous politics that could severely harm the country’s already divided political landscape.

    Nevertheless, the arrest, after numerous hurdles, signals the conclusion of a pivotal phase in efforts to hold the authoritarian-leaning president accountable. It can be seen as a success for the country’s democracy, as it is spared from further disgrace. It also marks a victory for the opposition, who pushed for the arrest. When Yoon ordered armed troops to block lawmakers from entering the National Assembly, MPs, led by the main opposition Democratic Party, confronted the troops and voted to overturn the decree, forcing Yoon to rescind it just six hours later. And definitely, This is a win for the people who protested in large numbers in the streets, even amid harsh winter conditions.