Il titolo definitivo dell’intera vicenda, tuttavia, è che la Casa dei Saud sta attaccando Ansarallah per proteggere il culto della morte in Asia occidentale
Cominciamo con alcune informazioni esclusive. Giovedì, Yahya Ali al-Ra’i, presidente della Camera dei Rappresentanti con sede a Sana’a sotto il controllo di Ansarallah, ha consegnato una lettera a Sardar Ayaz Sadiq, presidente dell’Assemblea Nazionale del Pakistan, richiedendo la mediazione pakistana tra Ansarallah e Riyadh.
Ra’i, figura ampiamente rispettata, ricopre la carica di presidente a Sana’a dal 2008. Sadiq ha iniziato il suo attuale mandato come presidente a Islamabad nel marzo 2024. Questo canale parlamentare diretto riveste un’enorme importanza come apertura diplomatica – poiché il Pakistan si trova ad affrontare enormi pressioni, sia a livello interno che in tutto il mondo islamico, riguardo ai suoi reali impegni relativi allo scontro tra Arabia Saudita e Yemen, come stabilito dall’Alleanza per la Difesa della Mecca.
Per quanto l’intera situazione sia in realtà oscura, informazioni dirette provenienti sia da Islamabad che da Teheran, ai massimi livelli, come da me specificatamente richiesto, hanno stabilito quattro punti chiave: Sembra che sia così – per ora.
Islamabad è irremovibile nel sostenere che il Pakistan non attaccherà Ansarallah e non impiegherà truppe a tal fine. L’intesa raggiunta a Riyadh la scorsa settimana escludeva l’ingresso nel territorio yemenita. Le forze pakistane dovrebbero rimanere al di fuori di qualsiasi offensiva terrestre contro Ansarallah.
Il Pakistan stava già mediando tra Riyadh e Sana’a attraverso Teheran. Il feldmaresciallo Asim Munir ha personalmente richiesto al ministro degli Esteri iraniano Araghchi di esercitare l’influenza dell’Iran su Ansarallah, avvalendosi dei contatti di Araghchi sia con Islamabad che con Riyadh. Il Ministero degli Esteri pakistano non ha smentito l’esistenza di questo canale diplomatico.
Il Pakistan sarebbe tenuto a difendere il territorio saudita in virtù dei propri impegni nell’ambito dell’Alleanza per la Difesa della Mecca. I dispiegamenti finalizzati alla protezione dei confini e alla difesa contro droni e missili lanciati dalle Forze Armate yemenite rientrano in questo quadro. Il problema è se alcuni consiglieri pakistani siano già dispiegati in territorio yemenita. Se il Pakistan avesse anche solo pochi «consiglieri» ad Aden e truppe da qualche parte nel nord dello Yemen, al confine con l’Arabia Saudita, ciò costituirebbe già una violazione delle sue promesse.
Le forze pakistane dovrebbero essere in grado di difendersi da sole – è una conseguenza naturale del territorio. Si tratta di una contingenza dichiarata; non di una previsione di ritorsione. Almeno un ufficiale pakistano è stato ucciso in Arabia Saudita senza che il Pakistan reagisse con una ritorsione. Ciò denota moderazione – almeno per ora.
Transito attraverso lo Stretto di Hormuz: utilizzare il CIPS e pagare in rial
Sul più ampio fronte USA-Iran, le mosse diplomatiche confermano quanto abbiamo riportato negli ultimi giorni riguardo al Protocollo di Transizione. Il Pakistan, infatti, è determinato a mantenere i rapporti sia con Riyadh che con Teheran, parallelamente a un coordinamento costante con Pechino. Dopotutto, la Cina sostiene pienamente la mediazione pakistana; e Araghchi continua a dialogare con Munir, come ha fatto in seguito ai colloqui con Wang Yi a Pechino.
Nel frattempo, sul fronte di Washington, le speculazioni sono febbrili su tutta la linea riguardo ai preparativi per una ripresa della guerra da parte dell’amministrazione Trump – compresi potenziali attacchi alle infrastrutture energetiche iraniane e persino, cosa piuttosto preoccupante, a obiettivi nucleari. Non vi è ancora alcuna decisione definitiva da parte dello «psicopatico/sociopatico al comando», tanto meno una data di avvio.
I rischi immediati, in ogni caso, sono sbalorditivi.
La diplomazia – anche nella sua forma surrogata – è impantanata in un vicolo cieco. Teheran rimane – e continuerà a rimanere – ancorata alle proprie condizioni attuali, specificate nel memorandum d’intesa ormai privo di significato, ma ora con l’aggiunta della minaccia di bloccare le rotte di transito lungo la costa dell’Oman che considera illegali. Washington, dal canto suo, è ossessionata dall’ottenere vaste concessioni in materia nucleare. All’inizio di questa settimana, abbiamo confermato che il Consiglio Supremo di Sicurezza Nazionale (SNSC) di Teheran ha preso due decisioni di grande rilevanza.
Il punto fondamentale è che la spirale di escalation potrebbe sfuggire al controllo in un batter d’occhio.
La “Tempesta yemenita in arrivo 1.0” è già in atto
Sul fronte saudita-yemenita, le Forze Armate yemenite si stanno dimostrando assolutamente spietate. La “Tempesta yemenita in arrivo 1.0” è già in atto.
I danni alla raffineria di Jeddah, vicino a Yanbu, sono ingenti. Ansarallah sta colpendo contemporaneamente la costa orientale e quella occidentale dell’Arabia Saudita, oltre all’oleodotto est-ovest che le collega.
A tutti gli effetti, Sana’a sta prendendo di mira l’intera infrastruttura chiave di Riyadh. Il «paracadute» difensivo statunitense è una farsa: le batterie PAC-3 e Patriot rimaste sono inutili contro i missili balistici yemeniti.
Le truppe saudite potrebbero ammontare, nella migliore delle ipotesi, a 75.000 unità, più 125.000 della Guardia Nazionale. Le Forze Armate yemenite dispongono di almeno 350.000 uomini, che possono essere facilmente portati a 800.000. Aspettarsi un «aiuto» dai petrol-sceicchi del CCG non è nemmeno degno di essere definito uno scherzo.
Le Forze Armate yemenite hanno inoltre lanciato due missili balistici e droni esplosivi in direzione dell’aeroporto internazionale di Aden. Ansarallah ha dichiarato che l’obiettivo erano i rifornimenti militari sauditi appena giunti al Campo di Badr, il quartier generale dei mercenari adiacente all’aeroporto. È stato ucciso un numero non specificato di ufficiali e funzionari sauditi di alto rango – forse anche alcuni pakistani.
Da parte sua, anche la Turchia sta per schierare truppe, velivoli e sistemi di difesa aerea sul territorio saudita. Queste forze turche potrebbero, in teoria, proteggere Riyadh, le città sante e l’oleodotto Est-Ovest. Ankara, proprio come Islamabad, insiste nel sostenere di non avere alcuna intenzione di entrare in guerra nello Yemen.
La rapida liberazione da parte delle Forze Armate yemenite della costa occidentale vicino al Mar Rosso ha inoltre reso chiarissimo come la cosiddetta «coalizione» saudita – in realtà una banda di proxy e mercenari – stesse schierando di fatto dei terroristi fin dall’inizio.
Ansarallah ha recuperato una grande quantità di passaporti stranieri – in particolare provenienti dal Kuwait, dal Qatar, dalla Turchia e dalla Siria – appartenenti a sicari dell’ISIS e di Al-Qaeda. Chiamatela pure la Legione della Terror Inc.
È sempre la solita storia. Il Qatar e la Turchia, di comune accordo, hanno strumentalizzato il trasferimento di miliziani dell’ISIS e dei salafiti-jihadisti dalla Siria e dall’Iraq: questi sono stati accolti nello Yemen dal Partito Islah. La Turchia è stata la principale via di transito; almeno 2.100 di questi membri dell’ISIS sono turchi.
AQAP è tornata! Già nel lontano 2020, Ansarallah aveva sequestrato documenti, mappe e video che mostravano jihadisti dell’ISIS/Daesh e di Al-Qaeda, direttamente sostenuti da Riyadh, mentre vagavano per lo Yemen, con i miliziani catturati che confessavano di essere stati pagati, armati e sostenuti logisticamente dai sauditi.Ora è già in atto una nuova incarnazione dell’ex Al-Qaeda nella Penisola Arabica (AQAP) – attraverso almeno 20.000 mercenari terroristi del Daesh/takfiri “importati” dalla Siria. Essi saranno inviati nel governatorato di Aden – in seguito alla richiesta, anzi alla pretesa dello stesso MbS, pienamente approvata dall’amministrazione Trump e dal suo vassallo tagliagole diventato presidente a Damasco, l’ex membro dell’ISIS al-Jolani.
Il titolo definitivo dell’intera vicenda, tuttavia, è che la Casa dei Saud sta attaccando Ansarallah per proteggere il culto della morte in Asia occidentale. Controllando Bab al-Mandab, Ansarallah isola di fatto il porto israeliano di Eilat. Ciò era già accaduto in precedenza durante il genocidio di Gaza. Riyadh era furiosa perché aveva stretto accordi per il progetto NEOM – ora praticamente accantonato – che avrebbe collegato Eilat una volta che gli Accordi di Abramo trumpiani fossero entrati in vigore. Considerando il quadro d’insieme, una singola scintilla potrebbe ancora scatenare l’inferno. Tra le possibilità figurano: un attacco yemenita contro l’Arabia Saudita che causi ingenti perdite; un caos nella riscossione dei pedaggi nello Stretto di Ormuz; un attacco iraniano contro un obiettivo legato ai «petro-sceicchi» del CCG, a seguito di una provocazione americana; un attacco legato all’Iran contro una base statunitense, ancora una volta a seguito di una provocazione americana; e, soprattutto, una (dis)avventura del CENTCOM «via terra, aria e mare» imposta da un sociopatico.
Allacciate le cinture di sicurezza.
The House of Saud is attacking Ansarallah to protect the death cult in West Asia, Pepe Escobar writes.
Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su
Let’s start with exclusive intel. On Thursday, Yahya Ali al-Ra’i, speaker of the Sana’a-based House of Representatives under Ansarallah, delivered a letter to Sardar Ayaz Sadiq, the speaker of Pakistan’s National Assembly, requesting Pakistani mediation between Ansarallah and Riyadh.
Ra’i, widely respected, has been the speaker in Sana’s since 2008. Sadiq began his current term as speaker in Islamabad in March 2024. This direct parliamentary channel is immensely significant as a diplomatic opening – as Pakistan faces enormous pressure, domestically and across the lands of Islam, over its real commitments related to the Saudi Arabia vs. Yemen clash as determined by the Mecca Defense Alliance.
As murky as the the whole situation really is, direct intel from both Islamabad and Tehran, at the highest levels, as I especifically requested, has established four key points:
Transiting Hormuz: use CIPS and pay in rials
On the wider U.S.-Iran front, diplomatic moves support what we have been reporting for the past few days on Transition Protocol. Pakistan in fact is desperate to maintain engagement with both Riyadh and Tehran, alongside non-stop coordination with Beijing. After all, China completely supports Pakistan mediation; and Araghchi keep speaking to Munir, as he did following talks with Wang Yi in Beijing.
Meanwhile, on the Washington front, speculation is feverish all over the spectrum over preparations for a Trump administration renewal of the war – including potential strikes on Iranian energy infrastructure and even, quite worrisomely, nuclear targets. There is no final decision yet by the Psycho/Sociopath in Charge, much less a launch date.
The immediate risks anyway are staggering.
Diplomacy – even in ersatz form – is mired in impasse. Tehran remains – and will continue to remain – anchored to its existing conditions, detailed by the dead cat MoU, but now carrying the threat of blocking transit routes along Oman’s coastline that it considers illegal. Washington for its part is obsessed with vast nuclear concessions.
Earlier this week, we confirmed that the Supreme National Security Council (SNSC) in Tehran made two very consequential decisions.
The bottom line is that the escalation ladder could get out of control in no time.
Coming Yemeni Storm 1.0 in effect
On the Saudi-Yemen front, the Yemeni Armed Forces are absolutely ruthless. The Coming Yemeni Storm 1.0 is already in effect.
The damage at Jeddah refinery, close to Yanbu, is massive. Ansarallah is simultaneously hitting Saudi Arabia’s eastern and coast and western coast, plus the East-West pipeline in between.
For all practical purposes Sana’a is going for the whole key Riyadh infrastructure. The U.S. defense umbrella is a joke: remaining PAC-3 and Patriot batteries are useless against Yemeni ballistic missiles.
Saudi troops may number at best 75,000, plus 125,000 from the National Guard. The Yemeni Armed Forces command at least 350,000 that can be easily ramped up to 800,000. To expect “help” from the GCC petrosheiks doesn’t even qualify as a joke.
The Yemeni Armed Forces also unleashed two ballistic missiles plus explosive drones in the direction of Aden’s international airport. Ansarallah said the target was Saudi military supplies that had just arrived at Badr Camp, the mercenary HQ adjacent to the airport. An unspecified number of high-ranking Saudi officers and officials – perhaps even some Pakistanis – were killed.
Turkey for its part is also about to put boots, aircraft and air defenses on Saudi ground. These Turkish forces in thesis could protect Riyadh, the holy cities and the East-West pipeline. Ankara, just like Islamabad, insists it has no plans to enter the war inside Yemen.
The swift liberation by the Yemeni Armed Forces of the western coast close to the Red Sea also made it crystal clear how the so-called Saudi “coalition” – actually a gang of proxies/mercenaries – was deploying de facto terrorists all along.
Ansarallah recovered a wealth of foreign passports – especially from Kuwait, Qatar, Turkey and Syria – belonging to ISIS and Al-Qaeda goons. Call it the Terror Inc. Legion.
I’ts the same old song. Qatar and Turkey, in sync, instrumentalized the transfer of ISIS/Salafi-jihadi goons from Syria and Iraq: they were welcomed in Yemen by the Islah Party. Turkey was the key transit route; at least 2,100 of these ISIS assets are Turkish.
AQAP is back!
Way back in 2020, Ansarallah had already seized documents, maps, and videos showing ISIS/Daesh and Al-Qaeda jihadis directly supported by Riyadh roaming Yemen, with captured goons confessing they were paid, weaponized and logistically supported by the Saudis.
Now a new incarnation of the former al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP) is alread in effect – via at least 20,000 Daesh/takfiri terror goons “imported” from Syria. They will be sent to Aden governorate – following the request, actually the demand by MbS himself, fully approved by the Trump administration and its throat-slitter vassal turned President in Damascus, former ISIS al-Jolani.
The definitive headline of the whole affair though is that the House of Saud is attacking Ansarallah to protect the death cult in West Asia.
By controlling the Bab al-Mandab, Ansarallah de facto cuts off the Israeli port of Eilat. That had already happened before during the genocide of Gaza. Riyadh was furious because they had struck deals for the – now virtually scrapped – NEOM project that would connect up to Eilat once the Trumpian Abraham Accords were up and running.
Considering the whole picture, all hell could still break loose due to a single spark. Possibilities include: a Yemeni strike on Saudi Arabia causing massive casualties; a toll-enforcement mess in the Strait of Hormuz; an Iranian strike on a GCC petro-sheikh target, following an American provocation; an Iran-linked attack on a U.S. base, once again folowing an American provocation; and most of all a Sociopath-forced “land, air and sea” CENTCOM (mis)adventure.
Fasten your seat belts.
People in Russian-occupied Oleshky, a town in southern Ukraine, are running out of food and medicine and have no way out, a local resident told RBC-Ukraine. Ukraine's human rights ombudsman told the outlet that civilians there are dying of hunger every day.
The part of Kherson Oblast across the Dnipro River has been under Russian occupation since 2022, with civilians facing food and medicine shortages and restrictions on leaving. The UN Human Rights Monitoring Mission in Ukraine has documented deteriorating conditions in Oleshky and neighboring Hola Prystan. There has been no practical breakthrough toward an organized evacuation, though 358 people who need help to leave Oleshky and nearby settlements have been verified. About 2,000 people remain in Oleshky, Kherson Oblast head Oleksandr Prokudin estimated.
The resident, who spoke anonymously, said food is extremely scarce, and residents are waiting for a humanitarian corridor to leave. The local market offers mostly vegetables and fruit, such as tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, pears, and apples. Russia made its ruble the only legal currency in occupied Kherson Oblast from 1 January 2023, pushing out the Ukrainian hryvnia. Prices at the market start at 500 rubles (about $6), and "if you're lucky, 10 eggs can be bought for 3,000 rubles" (about $36), the resident said. That is about $3.60 an egg, nearly 20 times the US average of about $0.19, or $2.27 a dozen in August, US government data show.
Ukraine's human rights ombudsman, Dmytro Lubinets, told RBC-Ukraine that civilians in the occupied area were dying every day.
"There is a humanitarian catastrophe there. Ukrainian civilians die there every day because they lack even basic food and water. There have been no medicines there for a long time. According to our information, there is simply hunger there," he said.
The resident said there were practically no medicines available. Expired drugs were being sold at about 100 rubles (about $1.20) a pill. His father has Parkinson's syndrome and has been concussed twice. The resident said he was forced to reduce his father's dose by 25% so the supply would last at least until the new year.
The resident's apartment had burned down, and his house remained damaged. His family had made the house livable and was living there, he said. His wife had lost more than 40 kilograms while the family relied on vegetables and fruit.
Four villages in the Hola Prystan community—Kokhany, Kardashynka, Velyka Kardashynka, and Mala Kardashynka—are effectively blocked, according to the Skhid-SOS fund. The fund told RBC-Ukraine that no transport reaches the villages and no humanitarian aid has been delivered for a prolonged period, although it is difficult to get more information from the villages. Residents are forced to walk or cycle to other settlements to find food, despite the risks of mines and drone strikes.
Lubinets also said Russian troops were using civilians as a buffer and as protection against the Ukrainian military, RBC-Ukraine reported. Because Ukrainian citizens remain in Oleshky, Ukraine cannot conduct active combat operations there, he said—which, in his view, allows Russia to hold civilians effectively as hostages on the front line.
Ukraine has delivered food to Oleshky by drone since March, Prokudin said. Nearly 400 parcels weighing almost 4 tons reached their drop-off points on the night of 4 October, Interior Minister Ivan Vyhivskyi said. How much of the food stays with residents is unclear. Prokudin has said Russian forces shoot down supply drones, confiscate or resell the packages, and detain and beat residents who receive them.
After a previous delivery, Tetiana Hasanenko, head of the Oleshky City Military Administration, said that Russian troops take drone-dropped food and accuse those who receive it of cooperating with Ukraine, and that some residents got several packages while others got none.
By Emran FEROZ
Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su
The war inaugurated a terrible new global order in which armed drones kill civilians who are neither named nor counted.
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There were nights full of terror. Our village was bombed constantly,” says Zalmay Khan. Afterward, he goes to pray. Because of his wounds, he cannot kneel, so he prays sitting down.
Khan is in his early twenties and now works as a Taliban intelligence officer. As a boy, he says, he learned to read the sky before he learned to read words. His village in Wardak province, near Kabul, was bombed, then bombed again. First came American planes, then NATO’s, then those of the Afghan army the West had built. By night it got worse, when jets and armed foreign contractors hit villages and killed civilians seemingly at random.
“I became a Mujahed [a Taliban fighter] naturally,” Khan tells me.
He is not an outlier. In village after village on my most recent trip to Afghanistan a few weeks ago, I met men who grew up as the so-called war on terror’s raw material. Some wear the Taliban’s turbans, and some do not. Almost all of them say the same thing, with remarkable calm: The American narrative of this war belongs to the past. After two decades of war and destruction, it is their turn to control narratives and to rule the country.
October 7, 2026, marks exactly 25 years since the United States began bombing Afghanistan. The anniversary will pass in Washington with little reflection. In Afghanistan, the reality of it is lived daily.
Drones and Ghosts
The war on terror made history in a way few people remember. In its opening weeks, the United States used an armed drone against a target in Afghanistan, one of the first such attacks ever, in an attempt to kill the Taliban’s founder, Mullah Mohammad Omar, in Kandahar. Omar was not hit on October 7, 2001. He survived and reportedly died of natural causes a decade later, which the Taliban kept secret for years.
Who died instead? The record offers almost nothing: no definitive or officially confirmed names, ages, villages. One news report cites unnamed Kandahar residents suggesting the raid killed Omar’s 10-year-old son and the child’s stepfather, but the Taliban’s ambassador to Pakistan declined to confirm or deny this report.
In other words, the first known attempt to kill a man with an armed drone killed people no one has ever definitively identified, and it set the template for the type of warfare that would dominate over the next decades. No one can say who the victims were. But if the pattern of the following years is any guide, many were likely civilians, like the thousands of victims who came after them. During the Obama years, Afghanistan officially became the world’s most drone-bombed country.
That template repeated itself so often that Afghans developed names for the many men who were declared dead after supposed “surgical strikes,” but who then reappeared alive: mord-e zinda (the living dead) in Farsi and khyali marr (the not truly dead) in Pashto. I call them “Taliban ghosts.”
It continued across successive U.S. administrations, even across the bureaucratic, supposedly methodical “kill lists” infamously used by the Obama administration used to mark people for death from the skies.
The obvious question was almost never asked: If Omar was not the victim, who was killed instead? In the logic of the drone war, a body is a statistic, and a body in a targeted area becomes a militant by default. The dead were not counted, and the stories of their families, who were left to count for themselves, largely continued to go unknown.
Strikes did not only create ghosts. They also created recruits. Researchers, journalists, and Afghan elders have long described the same pattern: A village is hit, a family is destroyed, and the Taliban offer the survivors the only form of justice made available to them. By the end of the war, entire districts had made that choice, not out of ideological conviction but out of grief.
Democratic Torture
One of the people I talked to on my recent trip was a Taliban official who had been held at Bagram, the American prison north of Kabul, for several years. He told me what the Americans wanted from him. “Accept our democracy or get tortured and rot here. That’s what they told me,” he recalled.
The aim, as he described it, was reeducation by coercion: Accept our system, our ideology, and the pain stops. He refused. By his account, he left more committed than when he arrived. He was freed in 2020 under the prisoner exchange the United States negotiated with the Taliban, part of the same Doha process that handed the country back to the movement the war was purportedly meant to destroy.
Consider the sequence. A man is imprisoned and tortured to make him embrace a political order. He then walks out of the prison and eventually helps govern. The war’s own methods created much of its failure.
I make no argument here that the Taliban’s rule is benign. Women and girls have been shut out of education and public life, and dissent is severely punished. These facts belong in any honest account. But an honest account also includes what the war did, who did it, and whom they harmed; the powers that waged it have shown little interest in reckoning with that part.
A War Passed On
Here is the part that does not fit the story that the war on terror ended in August 2021: someone else is still fighting it.
Pakistan is currently bombing Afghanistan. Just a few days ago, Pakistani airstrikes killed at least 10 civilians, most of them children, in the provinces of Helmand and Kunar.
Pakistani authorities say they are targeting militants of the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan, or TTP, often known as the Pakistani Taliban. Afghans on the ground, and independent reports, repeatedly describe civilians as being among the dead. Islamabad has also forced hundreds of thousands of Afghans, many of them born there, out of Pakistan.
The phrasing used to justify these attacks is familiar: “Terrorists were eliminated.” Anyone who covered the American war has heard that sentence before, and the same pattern follows. The claims are hard to verify, the dead are hard to identify, and the people left behind are not asked.
Pakistan has run this game before, and it has historically done well for itself out of it. In the first days of the war on terror, Islamabad aligned itself with Washington while, according to critics and many former officials, hedging its bets with the Taliban. The United States poured billions into Pakistan in military aid and reimbursements. A double game paid for itself.
For a military establishment that benefits from a war to fight, an enemy is an asset. That helps explain why the army has so little tolerance for those who challenge its role. This pattern goes beyond the foreign policy of one country alone. It is a system — one created by the U.S. but now adopted globally — that requires a threat to warrant its continued expansion and removes the people who question its logic.
If Pakistan again needs an Afghan threat to justify its budgets, its alliances, and its hold on power at home, the logic is the same as in 2001. The war on terror, seen from Islamabad, is a renewable resource.
The Violence That Made the TTP
The TTP itself is not a mystery. It did not appear from nowhere, and it cannot be blamed on Kabul alone. It grew out of Pakistan’s own tribal areas, where decades of military operations, drone strikes with Islamabad’s tacit consent, and brutality under former Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf shattered communities. Many of these massacres have been forgotten outside the region. In the tribal belt they are not.
The result was a generation radicalized by state violence, in much the same process I heard described in Afghan villages. The TTP is, in significant part, a product of the very policies now used to justify the continued bombing of Afghanistan. Without Pakistan’s violence in the tribal areas, the group would not look as it does. Accountability for that history will not come from the same army that carried it out.
The war on terror in Afghanistan was sold as a campaign against a specific enemy. What it produced was a country scarred by airstrikes, night raids, and detention, and an enemy that outlasted the world’s strongest military. It also produced a new precedent: That a state can kill from the sky, in secret, and rarely be asked who died, much less held accountable for its deathmaking.
That precedent traveled. Drones have gone from being an innovation in killing, one shrouded in secrecy, to a mainstay of battlefields on multiple continents.. The language of “surgical” strikes and “militants eliminated” has become standard, notably throughout the genocide in Gaza. And in Afghanistan, the war continues in new hands, with the same justifications and the same result.
On October 7, if this anniversary is marked in the U.S. at all, there will be speeches about sacrifice and lessons supposedly learned. The real lessons are available to anyone who asks the people who lived under the sky, and the most critical question is still the one nobody answered in 2001: Who was killed instead?
Original article: truthout.org
China is increasingly trying to diversify its connections to the region as Pakistan’s actions in Afghanistan create new security and strategic problems for Beijing. The opening of a road through the Wakhan Corridor is an important step in that effort. Afghanistan has formally inaugurated a 121-kilometer road through the corridor, running from Broghil to the […]
The post Afghan road to China tests Pakistan’s power and leverage appeared first on Asia Times.
A drone attack overnight on 8 October caused a fire that hit part of Yandex's data center in Sasovo, Ryazan Oblast, about 580 km from Ukraine, and the site is fully stopped, the Russian tech company told Russian media. The data center sits on the grounds of Sasta, a sanctioned machine-tool plant, Russian outlet Astra said, citing Wikimapia data. Astra's OSINT analyst found from eyewitness footage that the fire hit the plant.
Since late September, Russia has been striking data centers in Kyiv that keep Ukraine's internet and online services running. Now a drone attack has stopped one of the data centers that Russia's largest tech company relies on.
Yandex warned that some services may be unavailable, while its core services kept running and no one was hurt. Ryazan Oblast Governor Pavel Malkov claimed two drones were downed, a roof caught fire at an enterprise in the Sasovo district, and windows were blown out in several homes.
The power failure took down a wide range of Yandex Cloud infrastructure, including computing capacity, networks, data storage, databases, Kubernetes, cloud services, AI, and security and monitoring systems, Ukrainian outlet ZN.ua reported, citing Exilenova+.
Ukrainian monitoring channel Exilenova+ reported that the plant was hit, without naming an attacker. The channel said Sasta, which claims a place on Russia's register of defense-industry companies, makes computer-controlled machine tools, including five-axis machining centers, and previously supplied the Tactical Missiles Corporation (KTRV) and Roscosmos. The plant's value to the arms industry lies in machines that cut precision parts, not in finished weapons, the channel said.
Citing Exilenova+, Militarnyi reported that Ukraine's Defense Forces hit the plant. It also linked Sasta to Iskander missile supply chains. No source has said whether the plant or the data center was the target, and no Ukrainian official has claimed the Sasovo strike. Sasta has been under US sanctions since November 2023, UK sanctions since February 2024, and Ukrainian sanctions since April 2025, a sanctions database shows.
Ukrainian forces hit the Gazprom Neftekhim Salavat complex in Bashkortostan, about 1,380 km from the front line, causing a fire, Ukraine's General Staff said. It said the complex processes up to 10 million metric tons of hydrocarbons a year and serves Russia's armed forces. Its key unit, the ELOU-AVT-6 primary oil refining unit launched in 2012, can process 6 million metric tons a year, Militarnyi reported. Astra's analyst placed the fire a few kilometers outside Salavat, possibly near the refinery.
Salavat oil refinery moment of attack pic.twitter.com/bUxuRshSK1
— Exilenova+ (@Exilenova_plus) October 8, 2026
Salavat Mayor Marat Zagidullin claimed that debris from several drones fell in the industrial zone that morning and started a fire.
"The enterprise continues to work," he said.
Astra noted earlier hits on the complex on 24 September 2025, on 14 July 2026, when refining fully stopped, and on 13 August 2026.
Russia has repeatedly hit data centers in Kyiv since 23 September. Strikes hit the COSMONOVA data center twice, the second time knocking it out, and the Parkovyi data center stopped working completely on 1 October after a series of strikes. In early October, Russia destroyed the dline.ua data center in Kyiv.
A Ukrainian drone attack has reportedly forced the closure of a Yandex data centre in Russia’s Ryazan region, causing a fire and disrupting part of the company’s infrastructure. Shares in the Russian technology group fell by more than three per cent in early Moscow trading on Thursday, 8 October.
The installation in Sasovo was affected during overnight strikes on Russian territory. Yandex said it was working to restore affected infrastructure, while its principal consumer services remained operational. The incident has raised questions about the vulnerability of Russia’s digital economy to Ukraine’s long-range strike campaign.
The affected data centre began operating in 2014 in buildings formerly occupied by the Sasta machine-tool manufacturing plant. Yandex subsequently connected the installation to Moscow by fibre-optic communications links as part of its wider computing infrastructure.
Ryazan regional governor Pavel Malkov said Russian air defences intercepted two drones over the region. He reported a fire on the roof of an industrial building in the Sasovo district and damage to windows in nearby private homes. No casualties were reported.
According to a statement on the incident, the situation had been brought under control while work to restore infrastructure continued. Yandex said its main consumer services remained operational.
The company’s cloud division also reported an electricity supply problem affecting an availability zone known as ru-central1-b. Clients were advised to use alternative zones where necessary to maintain service continuity.
Yandex shares dropped by approximately 3.4 per cent to 3,568.5 roubles in early trading on the Moscow Exchange. The decline followed news of the fire, although a single trading session cannot establish the long-term financial cost of the disruption.
Yandex operates search, advertising, navigation, artificial intelligence and cloud computing services. Its infrastructure therefore supports commercial users as well as the company’s own applications. The duration of the interruption, the extent of physical damage and the cost of repairs will determine the wider impact.
Investors can follow the company’s quoted share price as further details emerge.
In a separate development, explosions and a fire were reported on Thursday near the Gazprom Neftekhim Salavat refining and petrochemical complex in Russia’s Republic of Bashkortostan, around 1,400 kilometres from the Ukrainian border. The precise location of the fire and the extent of damage had not been independently established.
The Gazprom-owned complex processes hydrocarbon feedstock and produces petrol, diesel, fuel oil and petrochemicals. It has previously been targeted by Ukrainian drones. The latest reported incident comes amid repeated attacks on Russian refining and fuel infrastructure.
Ukraine’s long-range economic campaign has focused heavily on oil refineries, fuel stores, military production plants and transport infrastructure. A strike affecting a major data centre introduces another category of vulnerability: the computing equipment and supporting utilities used by the digital economy.
Such sites serve businesses, financial institutions and industrial enterprises, and can also support defence-related activities. However, no publicly verified evidence establishes that the Sasovo data centre was directly involved in Russian military operations.
Damage to power supplies, cooling systems and network connections can interrupt services without necessarily destroying servers. Operators with geographically distributed facilities may be able to shift workloads to unaffected locations. The suspension of one centre therefore does not mean that Russia’s internet infrastructure has ceased functioning.
The attacks coincide with Russia’s plans for substantial military expenditure in 2027. The draft federal budget envisages considerable government spending and borrowing as Moscow continues its war against Ukraine.
Ukraine’s strikes on economic infrastructure are intended to increase the cost of maintaining Russia’s invasion. Disruption to energy facilities can affect fuel production and revenue, while attacks on technology and industrial sites may interrupt wider commercial and logistical operations.
The cumulative effect depends on the severity and duration of the damage. Neither the reported temporary closure of the Yandex facility nor preliminary accounts of the Salavat fire establish the scale of lasting losses.
The incidents nonetheless illustrate the exposure of Russian industrial and technology assets far beyond the Ukrainian border, as Kyiv increasingly targets infrastructure that supports the country’s economy.
A flurry of landmark arms deals is reshaping Central Asia’s strategic landscape, as regional states leverage alternative defense suppliers to assert their sovereignty amid Russia’s waning dominance and an intensifying Sino-Indian rivalry. Indian Defense Secretary Rajesh Kumar Singh confirmed the export of India’s domestically developed Akash surface-to-air missile system to Tajikistan and Turkmenistan, multiple media […]
The post India’s Central Asia missile sales spark a new Great Game appeared first on Asia Times.
Five years after seizing Kabul, the Taliban’s strongest argument for international acceptance rests on control. The Taliban governs every provincial capital and faces no conventional army capable of marching on Kabul. It repeatedly cites improved security as proof that Afghanistan’s post-2021 order is settled. But armed resistance is becoming more geographically dispersed, more organizationally diverse […]
The post Bit by bit, the Taliban is losing control of Afghanistan appeared first on Asia Times.
Daniel Davis / Deep Dive – October 7, 2026
By Junaid S. Ahmad | MEMO | October 7, 2026
There are careers that end in triumph, careers that end in scandal, and careers that achieve the rarer distinction of staging their own final indictment. António Guterres has found his in Islamabad.
After nearly a decade as Secretary-General of the United Nations, he arrives in Pakistan in the twilight of his tenure and performs the ritual that has come to define him: smile warmly, praise generously, deplore abstractly, and avoid saying anything that might seriously inconvenience the powerful men standing beside him. His record is littered with eloquent concern, grave warnings and solemn appeals. What it has lacked, again and again, is the one quality that gives moral language meaning: courage when courage carries a cost.
In Islamabad, the performance is almost indecent. Guterres praises Pakistan as a source of “solidarity and solutions,” commends the “resilience” of its people, and assures them that the United Nations stands with them. Meanwhile, former prime minister Imran Khan remains imprisoned after the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention declared his detention arbitrary.
UN experts have raised concerns about his treatment, prolonged isolation and conditions of confinement; the UN Committee Against Torture has separately highlighted broader allegations of politically motivated detention, torture, intimidation and repression.
Guterres does not need opposition politicians or troublesome journalists to brief him. He could simply read his own institution’s reports. But that would ruin the choreography.
So the Secretary-General moves through meetings with Pakistan’s political and security establishment while one of the country’s most popular and persecuted political leaders sits behind bars. Outside the diplomatic bubble, Khan’s supporters confront barricades, arrests and the familiar machinery of coercion. The Pakistani state, chronically incompetent at governing, once again discovers astonishing administrative efficiency when citizens decide to protest.
And Guterres praises their resilience. The euphemism is almost grotesque. A population is subjected to repression, institutional decay and coercive politics, and the world’s senior international diplomat congratulates it for enduring the experience. It is the diplomatic equivalent of praising a prisoner’s fortitude while refusing to ask who locked the cell.
But Islamabad is not a lapse in the Guterres record. It is the culmination of it.
The same moral evasion has defined his response to Gaza. For years, Guterres has described the catastrophe in increasingly apocalyptic terms: mass death, starvation, displacement, destroyed hospitals, shattered families, collective punishment and violations of international law. He has rarely lacked adjectives for horror.
What he lacked was willingness to name its most consequential possibility. Genocide.
When confronted directly, Guterres retreated into procedure, insisting that such a determination belonged to the courts. It was bureaucratic cowardice dressed as juridical sobriety. Apparently, a Secretary-General may describe the destruction of a people in exhaustive detail, denounce their starvation, mourn their children and warn of their dehumanization — but the moment the facts threaten to crystallize into the politically dangerous word, he develops an almost priestly devotion to institutional restraint.
The absurdity became complete when UN experts explicitly warned of genocide and a UN Commission of Inquiry later concluded that Israel had committed genocide in Gaza. The institution Guterres leads could say what Guterres himself repeatedly would not. This was not neutrality. It was evasion refined into method.
That is the essence of the Guterres tenure: moral vocabulary without moral escalation. He has perfected the art of sounding anguished while remaining politically non-threatening. His speeches travel bravely to the edge of the necessary conclusion, stare into the abyss, invoke international law, then retreat into another carefully worded appeal to governments that have already demonstrated their contempt for it.
Gaza became a theatre of catastrophic adjectives without commensurate political naming. Pakistan now becomes a festival of diplomatic compliments beside a prison cell.
The parallel is devastating. In Gaza, the UN system could document devastation while its Secretary-General recoiled from the word that carried the greatest political charge. In Pakistan, UN mechanisms can document arbitrary detention, abuse and repression while their chief shakes hands with the authorities presiding over the system they have condemned.
That is not merely institutional contradiction. It is leadership failure.
No serious person expects a UN Secretary-General to command armies, free prisoners by decree or compel governments into decency. But the office possesses one form of power that cannot be dismissed so easily: moral authority. Guterres has spent much of his tenure conserving it so carefully that, when history demanded its expenditure, there was often nothing to show for it.
He has confused caution with wisdom and diplomatic acceptability with statesmanship. But statesmanship is not the art of saying only what power can comfortably tolerate. Its purpose, at decisive moments, is precisely the opposite.
And so Islamabad is a fitting final tableau: Guterres praising resilience while surrounded by evidence of why resilience is necessary; representing institutions whose own findings he seems unwilling to embody; smiling through repression in Pakistan after years of speaking around genocide in Gaza.
History will not care how many statements he issued, how solemnly he frowned, or how often he invoked international law.
It will ask what he said when speaking plainly became dangerous. Too often, António Guterres chose not to. He saw almost everything. He described almost everything. And when history demanded courage rather than description, he chose cowardice.
By Salman Rafi Sheikh – New Eastern Outlook – October 7, 2026
On October 5, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan activated the Makkah Pact, taking their new alliance to war for the first time, and potentially revealing the future of American power in the Middle East: Washington provides the security umbrella while regional partners increasingly do the fighting.
From treaty to military alliance
Only two months after Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Türkiye signed the Makkah Joint Defence Agreement, the new alliance has been activated. As representatives of the three countries met in Riyadh and Houthi missiles and drones targeted Saudi territory, Saudi-backed Yemeni forces launched a major counteroffensive around the strategically important Bab al-Mandeb Strait. Despite hundreds of strikes, the Saudi offensive has not been enough to push the Houthis back to their original position. In this context, the alliance’s Strategic-Political and Defense Committee agreed to move “immediately” toward implementing its collective-defence commitments and to provide agreed military forces and capabilities for rapid deployment in Saudi Arabia. The meeting also appointed retired Pakistani Lieutenant General Nauman Mahmood as the alliance’s first secretary-general.
The significance goes beyond additional military assistance for Riyadh. The Yemen war is transforming – and that, too, very rapidly – a remarkably young agreement into an operational military alliance. Signed on August 7, the Makkah Pact contains a collective-defence commitment under which an armed attack against one member is regarded as an attack against all three. Pakistan describes the agreement as defensive and grounded in the right to collective self-defense under Article 51 of the UN Charter.
That inevitably invites comparisons with NATO. The analogy should not be exaggerated. NATO possesses 32 members, an integrated command structure and more than seven decades of institutional development. The Makkah Pact possesses none of that depth.
But its institutional development has been unusually rapid. On August 31, the three governments established mechanisms for political and military coordination, agreed to create a permanent secretariat in Saudi Arabia and committed themselves to joint activities, defence-industrial cooperation and joint technology development and production. Now comes the most important stage in the evolution of any military alliance: responding to an actual threat.
Pakistan and Türkiye were already assisting Saudi Arabia before formal activation. Reports show that Pakistan had supplied air-defence systems, drones, anti-drone equipment and light artillery, while Pakistani advisers were working with Saudi counterparts supporting Yemeni forces. Türkiye had supplied drones. The October 5 decision potentially integrates such capabilities into something larger: collective military action undertaken because one alliance member has come under attack.
The distinction between defensive and offensive action consequently becomes blurred. Defending Saudi airspace against Houthi missiles is clearly defensive. Destroying the launchers firing those missiles from Yemen would involve offensive operations undertaken for a defensive purpose. Pakistani Defence Minister Khawaja Asif has deliberately avoided ruling out that possibility, saying Pakistan would make “whatever means are available” at its disposal available to defend Saudi Arabia.
America stays, but its role changes
It would be tempting to interpret this development as evidence that Saudi Arabia is preparing for a post-American Middle East. That conclusion would be premature. The more interesting possibility is almost the opposite: the Makkah Pact may fit remarkably well into the kind of Middle Eastern security order the Trump administration itself wants to create. Trump welcomed the agreement shortly after it was signed. He called it’s a “big, bold and important first step” and argued that it demonstrated how regional countries could “defend themselves in a more meaningful way.” That language closely matches the administration’s formal defence strategy.
The 2026 National Defense Strategy says Washington wants regional allies and partners to assume “primary responsibility” for deterring and defending against Iran and its proxies, while the United States supports them and deepens cooperation with Gulf partners. The administration’s arms-transfer strategy similarly argues that allies should assume more responsibility for regional security while Washington equips them with advanced American military capabilities. Yemen now offers an unusually clear illustration of what this division of labour can look like.
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman sought direct American military intervention against the Houthis in September. Trump declined to order US strikes. But Washington did not withdraw from the conflict. Instead, it offered intelligence and targeting assistance, while CENTCOM commander Admiral Brad Cooper travelled to Saudi Arabia for consultations. As the Saudi-backed offensive subsequently began, the same pattern continued. Saudi aircraft provided extensive air support to Yemeni government forces, while the United States supplied intelligence and targeting support. America therefore remains deeply involved. What has declined, at least for now, is direct participation in the fighting. This distinction matters.
The choice facing Washington is not simply between dominating Middle Eastern security and abandoning it. There is a third possibility: remaining the indispensable strategic enabler while shifting more of the immediate military burden onto regional states. That is precisely where the Makkah Pact becomes useful.
Saudi Arabia brings financial resources, geography and enormous investments in advanced weaponry. Türkiye contributes a large, NATO-trained military and a rapidly expanding defence industry. Pakistan brings substantial conventional forces, longstanding military relations with Saudi Arabia and extensive operational experience. Together, they can potentially perform missions that previously might have generated demands for more direct American intervention. The United States can remain above this architecture rather than outside it: supplying intelligence, weapons, logistical assistance, strategic deterrence and diplomatic backing while allies provide more of the personnel and firepower required to confront regional threats. Seen this way, the pact is not necessarily a rebellion against American primacy. It could become one mechanism through which that primacy is made less militarily expensive for the US.
A different kind of American order
This model also helps explain why describing the emerging Middle East as “post-American” can be misleading. American power has traditionally been measured partly through deployments, bases and direct military intervention. But primacy does not require Washington to fight every regional war itself. The Makkah Pact could push this transformation considerably further.
Its future significance will depend less on what its three members call the alliance than on what they build after Yemen, and whether their first experiment in collective defence proves sufficiently successful to encourage deeper cooperation. Regular military planning, interoperable forces, integrated air and missile defence, intelligence-sharing arrangements and joint weapons production would gradually give the agreement institutional substance.
Yet therein lies a paradox for Washington. The same burden-sharing that reduces America’s military responsibilities could eventually reduce its leverage. More capable allies are not necessarily more dependent allies. As regional powers acquire the institutions, experience and capabilities to conduct military operations with diminishing direct American involvement, they may also acquire greater freedom to pursue threats and strategic objectives that do not fully correspond with Washington’s preferences. An arrangement that initially reinforces the US security architecture could therefore gradually produce greater regional strategic autonomy.
The consequences could extend to military technology. Saudi Arabia’s armed forces remain heavily equipped with American weapons, but neither Pakistan nor Türkiye operates exclusively within a US defence ecosystem. Pakistan, for example, operates the JF-17 fighter aircraft jointly developed with China. In fact, Islamabad has deployed this jet in Saudi Arabia as part of the pact. While Türkiye has built an increasingly indigenous defence industry. A more deeply integrated Makkah alliance could therefore eventually combine American, Turkish, Pakistani and Chinese-origin military technologies rather than reproduce an exclusively US-centred weapons architecture.
That may prove more consequential for American primacy than the pact itself. If the Makkah alliance fades once the immediate Houthi threat recedes, it will remain another temporary regional alignment. But if Yemen produces permanent military integration, Washington could confront an unexpected consequence of its own burden-sharing strategy: the more successfully regional allies learn to defend the American-led order themselves, the less dependent that order may eventually become on America.
Salman Rafi Sheikh, research analyst of international relations and Pakistan’s foreign and domestic affairs
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Ukrainian drugmakers could lose the certificates that let them sell in Uzbekistan, their most important export market, Ukrainian business outlet Ekonomichna Pravda reported on 7 October. Uzbekistan is ending remote factory inspections next year, and industry sources say its inspectors are wary of traveling to a country at war.
Russia's war keeps reshaping Central Asia's trade with both warring countries: Ukrainian refinery strikes pushed Russian fuel shortages into the region, and Kazakhstan gained leverage over a Russian retail giant.
Uzbekistan brings in about 30% of the Ukrainian drug industry's foreign-currency earnings, and one in 10 medicine packs sold there is Ukrainian, Ekonomichna Pravda wrote. By the outlet's count, at least three of Ukraine's five biggest drugmakers by revenue rank it as their top foreign market.
The currency from Uzbekistan lets manufacturers keep prices low in Ukraine and absorb losses from Russian strikes, three industry sources told Ekonomichna Pravda. Losing the market would force producers to raise domestic prices or pull low-margin medicines, which "will hit the Ukrainian patient," said Hennadii Vovk, former deputy head of Ukraine's State Service on Medicines and Drug Control.
Exports reached $114 million in January–June 2026, more than in all of 2021, said Yevheniia Piddubna, government relations head at Farmak, Ukraine's largest drugmaker. She said Uzbekistan takes 35% of Farmak's exports.
Data from the YouControl business registry, cited by the outlet, complicates that picture. In 2022, 30–35% of Farmak's products went to Uzbekistan. In 2025, Uzbekistan was not among its direct buyers. Farmak explained that wartime currency rules cap payment terms at 180 days, while foreign buyers often demand longer. So part of its trade runs through the group's Polish company.
Uzbekistan grants three-year certificates of good manufacturing practice (GMP) after inspecting the factory. Since the pandemic, it has allowed remote checks. That suited Ukraine, where Uzbek experts avoided traveling because of Russia's invasion, industry sources told the outlet. Remote inspections end on 1 January 2027.
Most Ukrainian certificates expire within a year. Farmak's runs out in November 2026, and the company may not manage to renew it in time. Three producers renewed under the old rules until 2029: Darnytsia, the Borshchahivskyi Chemical and Pharmaceutical Plant, and Farmex Group. According to Piddubna, Uzbekistan's regulator has drafted rules for remote inspections in force-majeure cases, but nothing has been put into practice. Industry sources said the Uzbek Presidential Administration must sign off.
Producers have asked the Office of the President, the Foreign Ministry, and the Health Ministry to raise the issue with Uzbekistan's government, but no Ukrainian experts have been sent there yet, the outlet reported. Russia, whose share of the Uzbek drug market is almost the same as Ukraine's, is ready to take Ukraine's place, its sources said.
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