Trending Now
We have updated our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use for Eurasia Group and its affiliates, including GZERO Media, to clarify the types of data we collect, how we collect it, how we use data and with whom we share data. By using our website you consent to our Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy, including the transfer of your personal data to the United States from your country of residence, and our use of cookies described in our Cookie Policy.
Analysis
Members of Syrian security forces ride on a back of a truck after Syrian troops entered the predominantly Druze city of Sweida on Tuesday following two days of clashes, in Sweida, Syria July 15, 2025.
The latest round of deadly sectarian violence in Syria started off small. Last Sunday, a Bedouin tribe reportedly robbed and attacked a Druze man at a checkpoint in southern Syria, near the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights. The incident quickly escalated into a battle that has left more than 350 people dead and drawn in not only Syrian government forces, but also Israel, which intervened forcefully under the pretext of protecting the Druze.
The clashes add to a series of sectarian flare-ups since the fall of the Assad dictatorship seven months ago. In March, forces aligned with the government massacred nearly 1,500 Alawites in response to a failed rebellion by Assad loyalists within the community, and in April, dozens were killed when the Druze clashed with security forces near Damascus.
Violence of this kind has destabilized an already fragile post-war Syria, raising fresh doubts about the transitional government’s ability to maintain control and safeguard the rights of minority communities. Interim president Ahmad al-Sharaa, a former jihadist who has restyled himself as a statesman since leading the militia coalition that overthrew Assad, has promised to unify and rebuild Syria after a brutal 14-year civil war and decades of dictatorship.
So, what are Syria’s main ethno-sectarian fault lines? Arabs make up the majority of the population, which is about 75% Sunni Muslim.
But there are tensions with several powerful minority groups. They include the Druze, an Israel-friendly community in the South which practices an offshoot of Islam considered heretical by Sunni fundamentalists, and the Alawites, the sect that the Assad family belonged to and conspicuously elevated throughout the dictatorship.
Tensions also persist between Arabs and the Kurds, who operate a semi-autonomous government in northeastern Syria. Although the Kurds have agreed to merge with the new Syrian army, they remain deeply skeptical of al-Sharaa – particularly because of his recent overtures to Turkey, a long-standing opponent of armed Kurdish groups.
Lastly, there are fears of persecution among Syria’s ancient but shrinking Christian population – which came to a head last month when a suicide bombing left dozens dead at a church in Damascus.
The fact that al-Sharaa, a veteran of Al-Qaeda, overthrew the Assad regime atop a coalition of Sunni extremist militias has put all minority groups on edge, fearful of the intentions of a new government that is led largely by Islamists and former jihadists not known for their tolerance of ethnoreligious diversity.
What’s standing in the way of peace? For one thing, Syria’s newly formed army remains fragmented, with many fighters drawn from Islamist extremist groups. Lacking cohesion and a clear chain of command, al-Sharaa can’t rely on the military to effectively control the country.
In fact, the military itself has been part of the problem. Syrian troops were seen to be helping the Bedouins in the recent flareup, according to the UK-based Syrian Observatory for Human rights.
“There isn't a well disciplined national army that could take control of all the Syrian territories.” says Ibrahim al-Assil, senior fellow at the Atlantic Council. “Whenever there is an erupting cycle of violence…they just go and they start fighting, they start looting, and killing as well.”
But there’s also a question about the intentions of a government that often seems to be exacerbating precisely the tensions it claims to be concerned about.
“Whenever there are clashes and confrontations, the authorities in Damascus and Ahmad al-Sharaa try to utilize that as a ploy to gain political achievements,” adds al-Assil. “[While] people could argue if the government was behind that eruption of violence or not, it has certainly used this to gain more power.”
And external actors aren’t helping. Israel, which insists on the demilitarization of Southern Syria, has repeatedly attacked government troops and facilities there under the pretext of defending the Druze. On Wednesday, the IDF escalated tensions further, striking the Syrian defense ministry in Damascus. Al-Sharaa has since redoubled his pledge to protect the Druze amid a fragile ceasefire in the area, but also said Syria is “not afraid of war.”
At the same time, Iran – having lost a key ally in Assad – may also be seeking opportunities to reestablish a foothold in the country.
“Iran is trying to find a way to regain some influence inside Syria and any force or any group that challenges the authority in Damascus creates an opportunity for Iran to find a way back,” says al-Assil.
Can the “new Syria” survive these tensions? “It shows a huge challenge for Ahmad al-Sharaa and, and the legitimacy of the government inside Damascus,” al-Assil says. “Most countries, including the West, do want to see Damascus consolidating inside Syria. They do want to see territorial integrity in Syria.”
But the failure of the Syrian government to stabilize the country could also open the door for more regional interference, complicating things further.
“Violence and fragmentation won’t stay inside Syria,” al-Assil warns. “Most likely, it will spill over to the region.”
Jair Bolsonaro, Donald Trump, and Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva.
The president of the United States is overtly meddling in Brazil’s domestic politics. It's hard for Americans to even imagine that another country would dare threaten to tank the Dow unless the Supreme Court overturned a ruling or Congress repealed a law. Democrats and Republicans alike would howl if China tried to do that. Yet that's exactly what President Trump is doing to Brazil: flexing economic muscle to dictate the internal policies of a sovereign nation (and a democratic one, to boot). So much for his promise not to lecture other countries on how to govern their affairs (he should’ve clarified: as long as their leaders earn, or buy, his personal favor).
It’s a corrupt (ab)use of executive power. The Trump administration has articulated a number of shifting and often contradictory aims to justify its tariffs: shrinking bilateral trade deficits, raising revenue, reshoring supply chains, creating manufacturing jobs, squeezing China, wringing better deals. It’s certainly the case that some of these goals make less sense than others, tariffs aren’t always the right tool for the job, policy execution has been sloppy (remember the formula?), and Trump’s negotiation skills haven’t been up to snuff. But at least most of the tariffs have been guided by Trump’s sense of the national interest. They accordingly amount to legitimate statecraft. Not so with the Brazil tariff, which the president’s letter justifies purely on political grounds. There’s no national‑interest fig leaf – just an open bid to help a political opposition leader he likes.
It's also plainly illegal. Since “Liberation Day,” the White House has invoked a bunch of statutory authorities to unilaterally levy tariffs without Congressional legislation, most notably the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA). Usage of this law rests on the notion that the tariffs are a remedy for a “national economic emergency.” The US Supreme Court has yet to rule on the legality of IEEPA tariffs; it will probably do so in the fall, when I expect it to curb the president’s authority. But whatever the justices decide, we already know that the president doesn't have the legal authority to impose a tariff solely because he disagrees with the target’s domestic politics.
President Lula has no ability to give in to Trump’s demands. Even if he wanted to appease Trump, both Bolsonaro’s trial for plotting to assassinate Lula and overturn the 2022 election – a “witch hunt,” per Trump – and the new social media rules – seen as “censorship” in Washington – are beyond Lula’s constitutional jurisdiction. For Brasília they are non-negotiable matters of sovereignty. Nor does Lula have much trade leverage. Many US imports already face low duties; while Brazil could plausibly lower tariffs on some US goods like ethanol, deeper cuts require agreement by all four Mercosur members and their legislatures.
Even if he had the means to offer Trump the concessions he demands, Lula has no incentive to back down. On the contrary, the Brazilian president sees an electoral opportunity to lean into the tariff fight with the US at Bolsonaro's expense. Lula entered the 2026 campaign cycle as an unpopular incumbent presiding over a soft economy. Much like Trump’s “51st state” threats against Canada rallied Canadians around the flag and helped the Liberal Party’s Mark Carney stage a spectacular comeback, Trump’s threat to Brazil’s sovereignty and economy in direct support of Bolsonaro just handed Lula a flag-wrapped gift. It’s good politics for him to escalate the clash against Trump, cast himself as defender of Brazilian sovereignty, and blame his domestic nemesis for both the extremely unpopular foreign interference and any economic pain.
Don’t feel too bad for Bolsonaro. The former president has been trying to persuade Trump to more actively support him for months. Bolsonaro’s son Eduardo – a lawmaker who’s close with Trump’s sons and a top contender to succeed his father as the right-wing challenger to Lula – has been in Washington lobbying the White House for targeted financial sanctions against Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes, the lead judge in Bolsonaro’s trial (and, incidentally, a key champion of the social media regulation). Eduardo’s success in getting Trump to take up his cause is matched only by his failure to grasp the extent of Trump’s tariff obsession. Now he faces legal jeopardy at home for inviting foreign aggression, and his father’s grievance politics may finally come back to bite him. Whatever happens in 2026, the Bolsonaros have no one to blame but themselves.
The fight is set to get worse. Lula stepped up the escalatory rhetoric, refusing to accept Trump’s letter and threatening mirror tariffs. Diplomats will hunt for an off-ramp and try to buy time, but neither side is likely to blink before Aug. 1. The aggregate economic damage of 50% tariffs is manageable – Brazilian exports to the US account for less than 12% of Brazil’s total exports and about 2% of the country’s GDP, and some products (like oil) and sectors where Brazilian exporters have leverage are likely to be exempted. Trump’s letter also left the door open for individual companies to get waivers if they promise US investments. Still, the Brazilian industrial sector is highly dependent on the US export market (especially in products like steel, aerospace, cell phones, tools, and coffee), so the tariff won’t be entirely painless.
The cleanest de-escalation route runs through Bolsonaro himself: he’d need to directly ask Trump to ease or drop the tariffs, probably once the industrial lobby gets too loud and Lula’s poll numbers rise beyond comfort. That scenario is likelier than Lula caving or Trump unilaterally backing down. The White House has already ordered a Section 301 probe into various Brazilian policies that will give Trump a legally sturdier mechanism to impose sky-high duties on Brazil should courts clip his IEEPA wings.
Trump’s gambit will boomerang. The tariff will prop up his ally’s arch-enemy Lula, hurt US consumers (say goodbye to cheap cafezinho and OJ), and nudge Brazil closer to China and the EU – and away from Washington. As Trump keeps doing his darndest to deglobalize America, expect this pattern to keep repeating itself.
Traders work on the floor at the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE), on the day of Circle Internet Group's IPO, in New York City, U.S., June 5, 2025.
Cryptocurrencies may have been born in part to resist government control, but they have soared to record levels this week because Washington is finally stepping in to regulate the industry.
In what is being dubbed as “crypto week,” Congress is expected to pass a series of bills setting rules for $3.76 trillion cryptocurrency market. The bills will bring long-awaited regulatory clarity to the crypto market, which investors predict will boost their use by companies, funds, and consumers. The main bill, the GENIUS act – which regulates a subset of crypto called “stablecoins” – has already passed the Senate and is expected to pass the House on Wednesday.
“This is a time when Congress is actually acting like grownups and writing some clear rules, which is much appreciated [by the industry],” says Garett Jones, an economics professor at George Mason, and chief economist at the stablecoin rating agency, Bluechip.
Wait, what are stablecoins? Unlike the cryptocurrencies Bitcoin or Ethereum, whose often-volatile value is determined purely by market forces, the value of a stablecoin is pegged to a real-world currency – in almost all cases, the US dollar. This makes stablecoins less volatile and safer for both investments and purchases, while still offering the security and ease of payments made via the blockchain rather than traditional bank wires, credit cards, or cash.
“Good stablecoins are run like the world’s most boring banks,” explains Jones. “They are the crypto world's attempt to create something boring like US dollars or Euros or yen, something that holds its value across time.”
Amongst consumers, stablecoins are expected to gain traction in lower- and middle-income countries where trust in local banks and currencies is low. “A pretend US dollar might not be as good as a real US dollar, but it might be better than the local currency they have around,” says Jones.
What will the Genius Bill do? It requires companies and banks that peg stablecoins to the US dollar to have an equal reserve of US treasuries or other safe, real-world liquidity, upping their reliability.
Once regulated by the US government, companies are expected to create and trade their own stablecoins much more comfortably. Big banks from JP Morgan to Bank of America to Société Générale have announced plans to launch their own dollar-backed stablecoins. Jones also sees particular value for companies that make large international payments, like Apple or Amazon. “Huge B2B payments, which are clunky and difficult across international borders, can be done much easier on the blockchain.”
There is huge room for growth. The stablecoin market – currently valued at about $250 billion, is just 6% of the global crypto market’s size. Tether, the world's largest stablecoin by market value, is pegged to the dollar and valued at about $160 billion.
The global race is on. As dollar-backed cryptocurrencies circulate more widely around the world, stablecoins have become the focal point of a global race to shape the future of digital money. China and the EU are pushing ahead with their own government-backed digital currencies, driven by concerns that US stablecoins will reinforce the dollar’s dominance — or worse, trigger currency substitution, where the dollar-pegged stablecoins are used alongside or in place of local currencies.
Why is this happening now? Crypto has a champion in the White House. Since November, the Trump administration has rolled back lawsuits against major crypto firms and replaced crypto-skeptic regulators with friendlier ones. The Trump family also has direct financial stakes in the industry, launching their own memecoins and stablecoin companies. As pro-crypto legislation advances in Congress, both the market — and Trump’s wallet — stand to benefit.
But isn’t the point of crypto to be decentralized? “The world of Bitcoin is still extremely decentralized if people want to use it that way,” says Jones. Decentralized exchanges will still exist, and bad actors will still be able to use stablecoins or other cryptocurrencies to finance nefarious activities.
But for those looking for a still anonymous, but less volatile digital currency, Congress’s regulation is likely to produce a lot more options.
“This is the crypto world getting serious,” he says, “and that’s exactly what makes it useful.”
Malibu, California, USA: A pickup truck with a President Donald Trump decal and decorated in U.S. Flags drives on Pacific Coast Highway on July 4th in Malibu, California.
Even still, with six months under their belt, US allies and adversaries continue to be confounded by the pace of dynamics coming their way. The influx of volatility is largely treated as an unknown variable to be built into strategic conversations and planning. An imperative to hold space for the “known unknowns” that will require navigation and policy response. The United Kingdom’s 2025 National Security Strategy released in June, for instance, labels this moment “an era of radical uncertainty” with no “stable equilibrium” in sight.
For the US administration, dysregulation is part of the end game. The intention is keeping global stakeholders on their toes, or as the White House calls it, “Keeping America in the Driver’s Seat.”
Security sphere uneasiness
Without a clear sense of what lies ahead, the working global response is to brace for impact, hope the ripples emerging from the US are not directed your way, and when they are, to do the best to ride the waves. In Europe, where the memory of US Vice President JD Vance’s remarks at this year’s Munich Security Conference still brings a shudder, there is a fleeting sense of relief at surviving June’s NATO Summit unscathed. A commitment to invest 5% of annual GDP on core defense requirements and defense- and security-related spending by 2035 feels like a fair price to keep the US engaged. After a decade or so wandering through the wilderness and being chided by successive US presidents about fair dues, European capitals find themselves buoyed by a reenergized NATO alliance.
With the hurdle of the NATO Summit cleared, Europe returns its focus to another summer offensive in Ukraine. Initial optimism that a change in the US administration might provide exit ramps for the war has subsided. Trump’s own promises to bring the war to an end quickly have been frustrated by the realities of an intractable conflict and the limits of relational diplomacy. Amidst an intensifying Russian missile and drone campaign of late, Europe is not sure which messaging from Washington is noise and which is signal. Reporting that the US Defense Department would halt the delivery of air defenses and artillery to Ukraine as part of a stockpile review had a chilling effect. Trump’s subsequent critical comments of Russian President Vladimir Putin at a US Cabinet meeting, alongside plans to sell weapons bound for Ukraine to NATO allies, reduced some of Europe’s anxiety. But each time Europe thinks it is doing a two-step with Trump only to find itself facing radical uncertainty, the known unknowns leave a mark.
A cresting trade tidal wave
Alongside security, the other major wave rippling around the globe this summer is a trade tidal wave. Just under the wire, the Trump administration extended implementation of so-called “reciprocal tariffs” from July 9th to August 1st. According to the White House, the further pause was based on “information and recommendations from senior officials, including information on the status of trade negotiations.” Thus far, a “Liberation Day” target of 90 deals in 90 days has resulted in trade agreements with the UK and Vietnam and a temporary trade truce with China (even as it has imposed new export restrictions on rare earths).
While the Trump team will be privately disappointed by the number of deals achieved to date, it is unlikely to be discouraged. As the world looks to interpret what comes next on trade, global stakeholders would do well to hold firm to a couple of framing principles. The first is that the US administration is ideological on trade, and has positioned these ideals at the center of its current-term ambitions.
The second grounding principle is that the president views himself as dealmaker-in-chief. He prefers to anchor negotiations by naming a price early in the process: in this case the Liberation Day reciprocal tariff rates. The anchoring position may not be where negotiations land, but it has the effect of shifting perspectives and forcing behavioral change. Europe’s 2025 NATO defensive spend commitments provide Trump with proof that this approach (plus patience) works. Likewise, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s rescission of a digital services tax (DST), disfavored by the US administration, is another data point for Trump’s negotiating strategy. Canada, for its part, is being repaid for its cooperation with a renewed threat of 35% tariffs on US imports.
Given all its levers of power, the US administration has taken to a tariff-letter-writing campaign. South Korea, Brazil, Philippines, Malaysia and a dozen or so others have been the recipients of letters notifying them of US willingness to continue its trading relationship but on new terms. What gets overlooked by too narrow a focus on the latest trade threats, and viral memes suggesting “Trump always chickens out,” is that against the wider perspective the US administration has already succeeded. Whether Brazil is hit with 50% tariffs over Trump’s displeasure with former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s legal investigations, whether Japan’s government falls over the precariousness that the threatened 25% tariffs have wrought, whether copper imports face 50% duties now and pharmaceuticals 200% in a year’s time or not; trade is at the top of everyone’s priorities.
The Trump administration has set a target of a new Golden Age for the American people. Through adopting an elusive approach to security expectations and defensive support, unsettling the global trade infrastructure, exporting risk, the president makes clear the US will be driving the agenda. Everyone else is sitting in the passenger seat.
Chelsea players celebrate next to US President Donald Trump after beating Paris Saint-Germain in the Club World Cup final at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey, on July 13, 2025.
On a muggy afternoon in New Jersey yesterday, a London-based, American-owned soccer club beat a Qatari-owned, French-based one to win the Club World Cup final, as Chelsea defeated Paris Saint-Germain 3-0. US President Donald Trump not only watched, but came down to the field for the trophy ceremony himself.
The United States hosted the tournament, which featured the world’s top soccer clubs, as a dress rehearsal for next year’s World Cup, which will pit national teams against each other in matches taking place across the US, Mexico, and Canada. As we look ahead to that tournament, the most-watched sporting event in the world, what did we learn from this year’s club tournament?
Donald Trump will embrace next year’s World Cup.
Just look at the trophy ceremony yesterday: the US leader descended from his box seats to hand the trophy to Chelsea captain Reece James, before standing among the team as they celebrated.
This is surprising to some degree: football is a global sport, and this was a global club tournament where none of the US-based teams advanced to the latter stages. The ticket prices were expensive and most of the games took place on the coasts. The tournament smacked of “globalism” and elitism — two things that sit uneasily with Trump’s America First styling.
But the president is also a born performer who wouldn’t miss a chance to be in the global spotlight.
Looking ahead to next year, expect the US president to cut a large figure in the World Cup tournament, even if that means jilting fellow hosts Canada and Mexico. If things go well, he’ll take the credit. If they don’t, he’ll almost certainly blame the neighbors. And at the very end of it all, don’t be surprised if he tries to throw a red MAGA hat on one of the winning side’s players – remember when the Qatari emir threw a traditional bisht robe on Argentine champion Lionel Messi during the trophy ceremony for the last World Cup in Doha?
This tournament tested the relationship between footballing authorities and the players.
Following the lead of many of the world’s top national football leagues, FIFA, the sports global governing body, wants players to play more and more games. Not only has it vastly expanded the Club World Cup – the tournament used to feature just 7 teams and was 10 days long, whereas this one gathered 32 teams and lasted a month – it has also increased the number of countries in next year’s World Cup to 48, up from 32.
The players are hitting back, voicing concerns about player welfare. It didn’t help that they had to play in the stifling American summer heat, nor that FIFA failed to even invite the players’ union Fifpro to a recent meeting about off-season breaks – the union also slammed the Club World Cup on Monday, as well as its organizers. Certain footballers like England’s Ben White have shunned international duty, and it’s possible that others may follow suit with the brutal schedule.
Could that affect whether some of the games top stars play in the World Cup next year? The world’s most celebrated athletes have labor disputes too.
Finally, international tensions will cloud next year’s tournament.
While the Club World Cup didn’t figure much in most Americans’ daily lives, next year’s tournament between international teams will dominate headlines and cities. The demand for tickets will be vastly higher, and thousands will come to support their teams from abroad.
Yet questions lurk about which fans will be able to attend next year, and which ones will want to attend.
However, Trump recently signed a travel ban that bars citizens from 12 countries from entering the United States. One of those countries is Iran, which has already qualified for the World Cup.
They might not be the only ones either. Haiti and Sudan could also qualify for the World Cup, yet both are on the travel ban list. What’s more, the Trump administration has warned another 36 countries – including likely World Cup qualifiers Egypt, Ivory Coast, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo – that it may add them to the list if they don’t fix certain safety concerns.
FIFA President Gianni Infantino has been working hard to maintain the global aspect of the World Cup. He has also heaped praise on Trump each time he appears at the White House for a soccer-related event – he even attended the president’s second inauguration – as he hopes to keep the US president on board with his plans. With a travel ban already in place, and a possible expansion to follow, Infantino has his work cut out if he wants to keep soccer’s top tournament accessible to its most adoring and committed fans.
Russian President Vladimir Putin attends a meeting with Head of the Federal Service for Financial Monitoring Yury Chikhanchin at the Kremlin in Moscow, Russia, on July 8, 2025.
At first glance, Russia has coped well under the weight of Ukraine-related Western sanctions. In 2024, its economy grew at a faster rate than every G7 country. Though Europe has gone almost entirely cold turkey on Russian oil and gas supplies, thirst for these resources in China and India, quenched by a shadow tanker fleet that helps evade those sanctions, has kept Russia’s energy trade stable.
Longer term, climate change can help. Warming temperatures will open new Russian lands to farming and boost its agricultural output. They will open new sea routes that lower Russia’s cost of commerce and bring revenue from transit fees imposed on others. Perhaps most importantly, the Kremlin has long claimed it can transition from its currently heavy reliance on oil and gas exports to deeper investment in wind, hydro, geothermal, biomass, hydrogen, and solar energy.
But the realities of Russia’s future are darkening.
Its economy has become addicted to war in Ukraine. Its growth over the past two years was fueled mainly by the tidal wave of military spending needed to eke out modest gains in what’s become a war of attrition. Military and security spending now make up about 40% of Russia’s total government expenditure. This spending surge is sending inflation into overdrive, forcing Russia’s central bank to raise interest rates to a record 21%, raising borrowing costs for businesses and slowing future investment. Manufacturing has slowed and ordinary Russians aren’t spending.
None of this will persuade President Vladimir Putin to cut a deal with Ukraine – and that’s Russia’s bigger problem. Current evidence suggests Putin intends to keep doubling down on a war that leaves a supposed great military power to take 1,000 casualties per day to make tentative gains of a few kilometers, to kill Ukrainian civilians, and to laud slow advances on individual towns and villages in a war that’s already dragged on for three years and four months.
In addition, while China and India remain eager to buy the energy Russia pumps out of the ground, they know the loss of Moscow’s best customers in Europe allows them to buy the product at a below-market price. China, with an economy nearly nine times larger than Russia’s, has done remarkably little to help Putin win his war. India has shifted large volumes of arms purchases from Russia to the United States. The Kremlin’s trade problem is compounded by the reality that even ending the war with Ukraine won’t bring mistrustful Europeans to return to their former volumes of trade with Russia.
But Russia’s biggest problems are found inside its borders. Longtime reliance on the revenue from exports of oil, gas, metals, and minerals has allowed Russia to avoid large-scale investment in the digital-age industries needed for an innovative 21st-century economy. The most recent credible measure of this comes from the Global Innovation Index 2024, produced by the World Intellectual Property Organization, a UN agency. According to the report, which measures entrepreneurship and innovation-driven growth and development across 133 countries, Russia ranks 59th in the world, behind Mauritius, Georgia, and North Macedonia.
This problem probably has many sources – an economy dominated by well-connected elites who don’t need innovation to remain wealthy, a lack of entrepreneurial tradition, and increased investment focus on a war Russia isn’t winning. But the larger challenge facing Russia is the depletion of the generation of young people that might help solve these problems. A report last month from the Center for Strategic and International Studies found “250,000 Russian soldiers have died in Ukraine, with over 950,000 total Russian casualties.” That’s a tremendous blow for Russia’s potentially most productive generation, with no end of the sacrifice in sight. Here’s another: aware of both Russia’s long-term economic problems and the much more urgent problem of avoiding war, nearly one million Russians have fled the country in search of better opportunities since the earliest days of Putin’s invasion of Ukraine.
Russia, a resource-rich country with 11 time zones and an economy about half the size of California’s, still depends almost entirely for its great-power claims on its stockpile of nuclear weapons, the world’s largest. But these are weapons that can only be used at high risk of self-annihilation, and Russia’s sophisticated arsenal of cyber-weapons is useful only for undermining other countries.
Worst of all, it’s hard to imagine any Kremlin change of direction toward creating a more dynamic and innovative Russia anytime soon. The war in Ukraine grinds on. For now, Putin and his enablers seem content to define Russia’s “greatness” solely by its ability to disrupt and punish others.
Hezbollah beat on their chests as a sign of mourning during a mass rally to mark Ashoura, commemorating the martyrdom of the Prophet Muhammad's grandson Hussein.
On Wednesday, the Trump administration’s envoy to Lebanon, Tom Barrack, received a stunning proposal from the Lebanese government– a plan to disarm Hezbollah, the powerful Iran-backed Shia militia group that has dominated Lebanon’s politics and fought two major wars with Israel over the past 20 years. The process would occur over the next four months, in exchange for Israel halting strikes on Lebanon and withdrawing from the country’s South.
If Hezbollah were to drop its weapons it would redefine the Middle East virtually overnight. But can the Lebanese government really turn this proposal into reality?
On the one hand, Hezbollah has never been weaker. Over the past year and a half, Israel has decimated the group’s leadership and destroyed a great deal of its weapons. The collapse of the Assad regime, a key ally, upended a major smuggling route for weapons from Iran. And the regime in Tehran itself has been hobbled by the recent Israeli and American airstrikes.
Hezbollah has not publicly responded to the proposal, but is reportedly at least considering shrinking its arsenal. However, according to Eurasia Group’s Middle East expert Firas Maksad, “Hezbollah could just be buying time” by appearing open to diplomacy, hoping that the winds in the region shift back in its direction.
Why does the Lebanese government want Hezbollah to disarm? Hezbollah, which enjoys support from Lebanon’s sizable Shia population, is a major challenge to the Lebanese government. The group dominates South Lebanon, providing social services to the population, and it makes decisions about war and peace in the conflict against Israel without the national government’s consent.
“With the exception of Hezbollah’s support base, most Lebanese very much would like to see strengthened state authority and control over weapons,” says Maksad.
They aren’t the only ones. Wealthy international donors, including the US and the Gulf Arab monarchies, have made it clear that desperately needed financial and reconstruction aid won’t flow to the Lebanese government while a powerful armed group like Hezbollah operates effectively beyond state control.
What would it take for them to disarm? Hezbollah and its supporters in South Lebanon see its arsenal as a protection of Shia interests in Lebanon’s fragile sectarian balance, as well as a defense against Israel. Among many in the Shia community, Maksad explains, “any attempt to try and take away the weapons [is seen as] meant to undermine the community.”
He added that real disarmament would require, at a minimum, Israeli withdrawal from Lebanon under the terms of ceasefire agreements reached last November.
“There is this sense in Beirut, reflective of Hezbollah’s thinking, that Israel would need to fulfill its side of the obligations before more can be expected,” says Maksad.
But that sets up an impasse: Israel’s position is that it can’t leave Southern Lebanon while an Iran-backed militia is dug in there with weapons pointed at the Jewish state.
So where do things go from here? Maksad says there are two scenarios. One is a slow, drawn-out process where Hezbollah makes limited concessions under the guise of diplomatic dialogue — but without any real, comprehensive disarmament.
The other involves Israel forcing the issue. With its campaign in Gaza winding down, Israel may now look northward again, making a fresh effort to weaken Hezbollah so much that the group has no choice but to surrender.
At the moment, that looks like the way things are headed – Israel on Wednesday night launched a limited attack into South Lebanon, and its attacks on Hezbollah’s territory have ramped up in recent weeks. That almost certainly puts the prospect of a negotiated disarmament further out of reach in the near term.
“I don’t see diplomacy right now providing the required results of fully disarming Hezbollah,” Maksad warns.