South Africans protest poor service delivery. Protests led to xenophobic violence. Source: Vatican News FW DE KLERK FOUNDATION EXPRESSES CONCERN OVER RISING XENOPHOBIC MOBILISATION The FW de Klerk Foundation expresses its concern at the recent escalation of anti-immigrant mobilisation in parts of South Africa, including reports of intimidation, business closures, harassment of foreign nationals and calls for a nationwide shutdown demanding the removal of all foreign nationals, regardless of legal status. The Foundation recognises that South Africa faces real and serious challenges relating to undocumented migration, weak border management, unemployment, crime, labour exploitation and administrative failures within the immigration system. These concerns must be addressed firmly, lawfully and effectively by the state. However, the Constitution does not permit private individuals or movements to assume the powers of immigration officials, police officers or courts. Immigration enforcement is a state function and must be carried out in accordance with the Constitution, the Immigration Act of 2002, the Refugees Act of 1998 and the principles of legality, dignity and administrative justice. Section 1 of the Constitution commits South Africa to human dignity, equality, non-racialism, constitutional supremacy and the rule of law. Section 7 confirms that the Bill of Rights protects all people in the country. While the Constitution allows the state to distinguish between citizens and non-citizens in certain areas, it does not allow violence, collective punishment, intimidation or hate-driven exclusion. Christo van der Rheede, Executive Director of the FW de Klerk Foundation, said: “A constitutional democracy cannot allow public frustration to become private punishment. South Africans are entitled to demand effective immigration control, but no person or group is entitled to turn our streets, clinics, schools or places of trade into border posts. The rule of law is not defended by vigilantism; it is destroyed by it.” The Foundation further warns that xenophobic mobilisation risks deepening social division, damaging local economies, undermining public safety and harming South Africa’s standing on the continent. Many foreign nationals living in South Africa are lawful residents, refugees, asylum seekers, workers, traders, parents and children. They may not be treated as a single criminal category. Ismail Joosub, Manager of Constitutional Advancement at the FW de Klerk Foundation, said: “The constitutional answer is not open borders and it is not mob justice. It is lawful, competent and humane governance. The state must enforce immigration law with seriousness, but it must also protect every person within our borders from violence, humiliation and arbitrary targeting.” The Foundation calls on government to strengthen lawful immigration enforcement, act against corruption and exploitation, protect vulnerable communities and ensure that all protests remain peaceful, unarmed and within the bounds of the Constitution. South Africa must address migration challenges without surrendering its constitutional soul. Issued by Ismail Joosub on behalf of the FW de Klerk Foundation on 28/04/2026 FW de Klerk Foundation +27 (0) 21 930 info@fwdeklerk.org

Djibouti mother and baby. Source: World Food Programme Djibouti Country Report March 2026 By Larisa W Chikanya Djibouti is a small republic of approximately 1.1 million people located at the southern entrance to the Red Sea, at the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, bordering Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia. Its position along one of the world’s most strategic maritime routes has made it a hub for foreign military presence, hosting bases operated by the United States, France, China, Japan, and Italy. The country’s population is primarily divided between the Issa-Somali majority and the Afar minority, who make up roughly one-third of the population and are concentrated in northern and western regions. Map of Djibouti and surrounding nations. Source: Encyclopedia Britannica Since independence from France in 1977, political power has remained concentrated within an Issa-dominated elite. Under President Hassan Gouled Aptidon, the country became a one-party state in 1981. During this period, human rights organizations documented the repression of political opponents, including arbitrary detention and torture. In 1991, Afar armed groups formed the Front for the Restoration of Unity and Democracy (FRUD), launching an insurgency against the government. The civil war that followed (1991–2001) was characterized by serious human rights violations, including extrajudicial killings and abuses against civilians. French military support bolstered the Djibouti government. the civil war ended in 2001. President Ismail Omar Guelleh, in power since 1999, has consolidated authority through constitutional amendments, including the removal of presidential term limits in 2010. The legacy of the civil war continues to shape Djibouti’s political and social environment. Long-standing grievances among Afar communities regarding political exclusion, land access, and representation remain largely unresolved. Opposition parties face restrictions, and in 2008 the Mouvement pour le Renouveau Démocratique et le Développement (MRD) was dissolved by presidential decree. In 2020, the United Nations (U.N.) Human Rights Committee found this action violated the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, a ruling that has not been fully implemented. Elections in 2011, 2016, and 2021 have been characterized by opposition boycotts and overwhelming victories for the incumbent, raising concerns about political competitiveness and democratic integrity. Cases of political repression continue to be reported. In 2021, Air Force Lieutenant Fouad Youssouf Ali was sentenced to ten years in prison after calling for an armed uprising, prompting concern from international human rights organizations. Djibouti’s geopolitical importance has contributed to limited international pressure on governance issues. Foreign militaries maintain a strong presence in the country. They prioritize national and regional stability and counterterrorism cooperation over human rights concerns. Future instability seems likely in the absence of accountability for past abuses, combined with ongoing political restrictions and entrenched ethnic divisions. Due to the government’s concentration of power within a narrow ruling elite, the systematic restriction of opposition parties and political participation, and the persistence of ethnic divisions between Issa and Afar communities, Genocide Watch considers Djibouti to be at Stage 3: Discrimination and Stage 5: Organization. Restrictions on civil society and media, and reinforcement of political and ethnic divisions place Djibouti at Stage 6: Polarization. The absence of accountability for past human rights violations, particularly those committed during the civil war, alongside the lack of transitional justice mechanisms, reflects Stage 10: Denial, continuing Djibouti's history of crimes against humanity. Genocide Watch recommends that the Djibouti government should: Comply with international human rights treaties; Implement U.N. Human Rights Council recommendations; Allow opposition parties to operate freely and safely; Cooperate with an independent U.N. Human Rights Council review of Djibouti's past human rights violations, including those committed during the civil war; Cooperate with monitoring by human rights NGOs of Djibouti's political freedoms and detention practices.

Source: Ethiopia News Agency. American Federal Model Can Inspire Ethiopian Reforms Ethiopia Insight 15 April, 2026 By Nagessa Dube Ethiopia’s federal system is constitutionally established but structurally incomplete. For most of its modern history, the country operated under centralized rule, first as a unitary monarchy until the 1974 revolution, then as a Marxist-Leninist state under the Derg from 1974 to 1991. Federalism was formally introduced only with the 1995 Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia. Ethiopian federalism is structured primarily along linguistic lines, with constituent states organized around ethnic identity. By contrast, the United States is geographically organized and operates under a presidential system, whereas Ethiopia follows a parliamentary model. Yet the core logic of federalism, the division of authority, the separation of powers, and the constitutional principles that sustain the system, remains comparable across both. The point of comparing Ethiopia with the United States is not to suggest structural similarity, but to highlight how clearly and consistently constitutional rules can be defined, enforced, and respected in practice. Presidential systems tend to produce sharper separations of power and clearer constraints. That makes them a useful reference point for assessing Ethiopia’s parliamentary arrangement. Ethiopia’s federal system is constitutionally established yet remains structurally incomplete, with core weaknesses rooted in a lingering centralized political culture, weak constitutional enforcement, unclear federal–state boundaries, and underdeveloped rules governing inter-state relations. Political Culture One of the most significant gaps is cultural. Despite constitutional change, the federal government is still widely treated as hierarchically superior to the regional states, a legacy of centralized rule. This produces what might be called hollow areas in Ethiopian federalism: not just gaps in law, but gaps in how the system is understood and practiced. During my time at the Oromia Regional State Attorney General’s office, I observed a consistent pattern: officials rarely consulted their state constitution in the course of their work. This was not an isolated case. Across regional administrations, state constitutions are often treated as peripheral. While the FDRE Constitution is supreme nationally, state constitutions are supreme within their jurisdictions. When they are ignored, federalism is quietly eroded. Regional governments begin to function more as administrative extensions of the center. This mindset appears in practice. Federal laws are often treated as automatically binding, even in areas reserved to the states. Public engagement with state-level lawmaking remains limited. The result is a system that looks federal on paper but operates with a unitary instinct. By contrast, U.S. federalism rests on a clearer conception of dual sovereignty. In McCulloch v. Maryland, the Supreme Court affirmed that the federal government has implied powers necessary to carry out its functions, while states cannot obstruct legitimate federal authority. At the same time, states retain protected spheres of autonomy. They are not subordinate units but co-equal governments within defined constitutional domains. Judicial Authority A central structural weakness lies in constitutional interpretation. In the United States, courts exercise judicial review, as established in Marbury v. Madison. In Ethiopia, that role is assigned primarily to the House of Federation, a political body. At the heart of the issue is the absence of a neutral constitutional arbiter. Courts cannot strike down unconstitutional laws, while the body that holds this authority functions without judicial structure or protection from political influence. In practice, constitutional interpretation becomes politicized. Decisions rarely develop doctrine or provide consistent guidance. Constitutional supremacy exists formally, but its enforcement depends on political discretion. This leaves a gap at the center of the system. When disputes arise, whether involving rights, federal overreach, or intergovernmental conflict, there is no independent forum capable of resolving them with authority and consistency. Addressing this would require transferring constitutional interpretation to the judiciary, alongside reforms in judicial selection, professional standards, and access to courts. Without such a shift, the constitution may read as supreme on paper, but in practice it offers little protection or guidance. Power Limits Ethiopia’s challenges with separation of powers are structural. First, limits on legislative authority remain unclear. In the United States, Congress operates under enforceable constraints. Cases such as New York v. United States and Printz v. United States established that the federal government cannot compel states to implement federal programs. In United States v. Lopez, the Court reaffirmed that federal power under the Commerce Clause is not unlimited. Ethiopia lacks comparable doctrinal boundaries. This ambiguity allows federal authority to expand into areas that may constitutionally belong to the states. Second, the structure of government weakens legislative independence. In practice, Ethiopia exhibits an extensive fusion of executive and legislative roles. Members of parliament often simultaneously serve in executive positions, from the federal cabinet down to local administration. This overlap reduces the legislature’s capacity to function as an independent check. Third, the legal framework governing intergovernmental disputes is underdeveloped. In the United States, doctrines such as sovereign immunity, affirmed in Hans v. Louisiana, define when states may not be sued without their consent by individual citizens, while still allowing structured litigation between states and the federal government. In Ethiopia, it remains unclear when individuals may sue states, whether states may sue one another, or how disputes with the federal government are to be resolved. The absence of clear rules weakens the legal architecture of federal balance. Fourth, limits on executive power are insufficiently defined. U.S. jurisprudence provides a reference point: Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer restricted presidential action against congressional limits, while United States v. Nixon confirmed that executive authority is subject to judicial process. At the same time, courts recognize boundaries to their own role through doctrines such as the political question doctrine in Baker v. Carr. Ethiopia lacks a similarly articulated framework. There is no clear doctrine defining when courts should intervene in inter-branch conflicts or how executive authority is to be constrained in practice. Notably, there is no established case in which such a conflict has been resolved through judicial review. Economic Unity Another underdeveloped area is the regulation of economic relations between states. In the United States, the Commerce Clause prevents states from discriminating against out-of-state actors. In Granholm v. Heald, for example, the Court invalidated state laws favoring in-state businesses. Ethiopia has no equivalent doctrine. There is no clear rule governing whether regional states may discriminate against non-residents or impose unequal burdens on external economic actors. In principle, a regional state could impose higher taxes or regulatory barriers on businesses from another region, with no established federal mechanism to prevent or remedy it. Without safeguards, this creates a risk of internal economic fragmentation. A functioning federation requires a baseline of economic unity. Whether constitutional or legislative, Ethiopia lacks a principle that guarantees it. Legal Continuity One notable omission is the absence of a principal equivalent to the U.S. Full Faith and Credit Clause, which requires states to recognize each other’s public acts, records, and judicial decisions. As I recall from the late Professor Yazachew, my civil procedure instructor at Addis Ababa University, the importance of this principle lies in maintaining legal continuity across regions. Without it, a federation risks fragmentation at the level of everyday legal life. Ethiopia lacks binding mechanisms requiring states to recognize and enforce each other’s legal acts and judgments. The effects are felt in everyday life. A license issued in one region may not be reliably recognized in another. Civil matters such as contracts, marriages, and judicial decisions may face uncertainty when they cross regional boundaries. In the United States, the Full Faith and Credit Clause resolves this by constitutionally compelling mutual recognition. Without a comparable rule, Ethiopia’s legal space remains uneven. Functional Shift Closing these gaps will require more than incremental reform. At the constitutional level, greater clarity is essential, particularly on the limits of federal authority, economic unity, and mutual legal recognition. Institutionally, courts must be given a meaningful role in constitutional interpretation. At the same time, a clearer separation between executive and legislative roles would strengthen internal checks. Limiting dual office-holding through an incompatibility rule, standard in many parliamentary systems, would be one practical step. But structural reform alone is not enough. Federalism must also be internalized. As long as regional governments are treated as subordinate, and their constitutions as optional, even well-designed changes will have limited effect. The challenge is not simply to preserve federalism, but to make it operate as intended. https://www.ethiopia-insight.com/2026/04/15/american-federal-model-can-inspire-ethiopian-reforms/ While this commentary contains the author’s opinions, Ethiopia Insight will correct factual errors. Main photo: Source: Ethiopia News Agency. Published under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International licence. You may not use the material for commercial purposes.

In part nine of our Ten Stages of Genocide in India Series, we explain how the ninth stage/process of genocide, Extermination, is occurring in India. A policeman looks on as a row of shops burns in Ahmedabad during the 2002 Gujarat riots. Credit: AFP India has a history of genocides, including between 200,000 and two million killings during Partition in 1947. At this stage, the killing legally defined as genocide occurs. Perpetrators do not view their victims as fully human. The term “extermination” captures the dehumanization in this genocidal process. In genocides, killers think of their victims as diseases, insects, predators, or traitors who need to be exterminated to purify or “cleanse” the society. That is the origin of one of the most popular euphemisms for genocide – “ethnic cleansing” – a term invented by Milošević’s Serbian propagandists to deny the Bosnian Serb genocide of Muslims in Bosnia. The term was even adopted by the International Court of Justice in its erroneous decisions, Bosnia v Serbia and Croatia v Serbia. “Ethnic cleansing” has become a commonly used term among journalists and governments to deny and avoid using the term, Genocide. Genocides do not have to be destruction of a whole group. The Genocide Convention defines genocide as the intentional destruction of a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group “in whole or in part.” Most genocides are intended to destroy only part of a group. Genocides may also be gradual not sudden. Frequently, men and boys of fighting age are murdered, as they were at Srebrenica, Bosnia. Educated members of a group may be targeted, as in the genocide of educated Hutus in 1971 in Burundi. Women in a group might be raped and forcibly impregnated to alter the genetic offspring of a group, as in Darfur, Sudan and many other genocides. Current genocide in India is mainly by Hindus against Muslims. It takes the form of organized mob murders, often euphemized as “communal riots or communal violence” to make one-sided massacres appear two-sided. It is motivated by the Hindutva ideology of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). It includes lynching and torturing Muslim men and boys, gang-raping Muslim women and girls, and destroying cultural and religious sacred places such as mosques. Two thousand Muslims were murdered in the 2002 Gujarat pogroms while Narendra Modi was Chief Minister of Gujarat. The 2002 massacre was India’s most deadly anti-Muslim pogrom since 1947. In February 2002, a train carrying Hindu pilgrims returning from a destroyed mosque in Ayodhya was attacked by a mob of Muslims and set on fire near Godhra, Gujarat. 58 Hindu passengers were burned to death. Organized Hindu mobs reacted to the Godhra massacre by killing, torturing and raping Muslim men, women and children across Gujarat. 100,000 Muslims fled into displaced persons camps. Gujarat police did not intervene to stop the killings. Following the pogrom, only Muslims were arrested and tried. Human Rights Watch reports that in the 2002 Gujarat massacres, Hindu men were provided with weapons and encouraged by Hindutva political and religious leaders to kill Muslims and rape Muslim women. Genocide Watch has published two reports documenting the 2002 massacres and the prevalence of rape during the 2002 pogrom. The prevalence of rape during genocidal massacres is motivated by the goal of destroying the target group’s reproductive autonomy. Mass rape is aimed at dominating a group’s genetic future. It is literally Gene-ocide. The 2020 riots in Delhi killed at least fifty people, mostly Muslims. The pogrom happened during protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), legislation that welcomed refugees from neighboring countries, but excluded Muslims. Modi’s Hindutva Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) had just suffered an electoral defeat and Hindu leaders were angry. In this volatile environment, Kapil Mishra, a BJP politician, delivered a speech that called for the forceful removal of peaceful anti-CAA protestors from the streets of Delhi. Riots against Muslims followed. Hindu mobs burned Muslim houses, shops, and mosques. Muslim women were raped and assaulted. Acid was thrown into the faces of Muslims. The police actively participated in the attacks. Police especially targeted female anti-CAA protestors. Hindu mobs attacked journalists covering the riots, burning their vehicles and equipment. Victim testimonies assert that police prevented ambulances and medical assistance from reaching Muslim neighborhoods. A group of men, chanting pro-Hindu slogans, beat Mohammad Zubair, 37, who is Muslim, during protests sparked by a new citizenship law in New Delhi, India, February 24, 2020 [Danish Siddiqui/Reuters] During genocidal massacres, only rapid intervention by police and armed forces can stop killing. However, in India, the government and police have refused to intervene and have encouraged and participated in the pogroms and riots. The lack of accountability for those who commit these crimes against humanity is evident in the number of acquittals of Hindus who carried out the Gujarat massacres in 2002. Such impunity will only lead to more pogroms and more genocide against Indian Muslims. Genocide Watch recommends: Indian police forces should be trained to respond to mob violence with non-violence. India should create independent oversight bodies to investigate complaints against police. Indian prosecutors should investigate and try crimes without regard to religion. Indian police should aggressively prosecute rapes and, with civil society, support rape victims. All Indian political parties should denounce hate speech and incitements to genocide. Leaders who use hate speech and incite genocide against Muslims must be prosecuted. The U.S should ban visas for Indian leaders who support Hindutva attacks against Muslims. The U.S should impose targeted sanctions under the Global Magnitsky Act on Indian leaders implicated in crimes against humanity and incitements to attack Muslims and other minorities. Read Part One of the series here : The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Classification Read Part Two of the series here : The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Symbolization Read Part Three of the series here : The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Discrimination Read Part Four of the series here : The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Dehumanization Read Part Five of the series here: The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Organization Read Part Six of the series here: The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Polarization Read Part Seven of the series here: The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Preparation Read Part Eight of the series here: The Ten Stages of Genocide in India - Persecution

EU Commission Needs to Strengthen Due Diligence, Transparency Rules File Photo: 2026 Glenn Harvey for Human Rights Watch The European Union has failed to prevent member states from exporting surveillance technology to governments with well-documented histories of using technology to spy on activists, journalists, and other critical voices, Human Rights Watch said in a report released today. The European Commission should strengthen its implementation of EU regulations on the export of cybersurveillance technology to ensure that European technology is not facilitating rights abuses around the world. The 54-page report, “Looking the Other Way: EU Failure to Prevent Surveillance Exports to Rights Violators,” assesses how the EU’s landmark Dual-Use Regulation, adopted in 2021, is functioning in practice. The regulation was intended, in part, to prevent the export of dual-use technologies—those that may be used for both civilian and military purposes, including commercial surveillance technology—to places where they are likely to be used to violate international humanitarian or human rights law. But that goal is not being achieved because it is not being implemented effectively. “The EU is currently doing too little to prevent the export of surveillance technology from its member states to governments who are likely to use it to crack down on dissent,” said Zach Campbell, senior surveillance researcher at Human Rights Watch. “The European Commission should take urgent action to change this and provide much needed transparency for surveillance exports.” Human Rights Watch sought information about the licensing and exports of such technology through freedom of information requests in each of the 27 EU member states and received data from nearly half of the EU countries that have sent data to the commission. Human Rights Watch analysis of that data, along with its analysis of European Commission public reports and data also obtained via transparency requests, show serious defects in the EU’s current approach. The EU is home to many of the world’s major developers and exporters of surveillance technology. The EU regulates exports of the most intrusive types of surveillance technology, while individual licensing decisions are taken by national authorities of EU member states. The EU Dual-Use Regulation, commonly known as the “Dual-Use Recast,” requires member states to report export licensing decisions of certain types of surveillance technology to the European Commission and for the commission to make it public. In 2024, the European Commission issued a recommendation containing implementation guidelines that establish how member states should report their export data. In those guidelines, the commission has reinterpreted the Dual-Use Recast’s transparency obligations in a manner that has undermined the purpose of the regulation. As a result, the commission’s reports do not provide sufficient detail to facilitate the scrutiny necessary to assess whether the regulation is having its intended effect, Human Rights Watch found. The data collected by Human Rights Watch nevertheless shows clear evidence of EU member states licensing exports of surveillance technology to authorities in a number of countries with well-documented histories of using such tools to violate rights. The data includes, as examples, evidence of the export of intrusion software, telecommunication interception systems, or both from Bulgaria to Azerbaijan in 2022; the export of telecommunication interception systems from Poland to Rwanda in 2023; as well as other examples of exports of these tools to other countries that have used surveillance technology to crack down on dissent. Human Rights Watch also found that the European Commission is failing to provide legally required transparency on these exports. In order to promote transparency and further research, Human Rights Watch is publishing the received data online. In response to questions, the European Commission stated that EU member states are “solely responsible for licensing decisions on dual-use exports.” They explained that their decision, set out in the recommendation, to collect data in a way that obfuscates what technology was sent where was due to a concern “that only a limited number of companies were active in exporting such items at the time of the adoption of the Recommendation, thus potentially violating commercial confidentiality or revealing their identity.” The European Commission is required by the Dual-Use Recast to begin an evaluation of the regulation later in 2026. It should use this opportunity to strengthen due diligence and transparency requirements to ensure that the EU curbs its export of surveillance technology to abusive governments around the world. It should also ensure that this process provides for meaningful participation of all relevant stakeholders, including human rights and other civil society organizations. The European Commission should issue new guidelines for implementing the Dual-Use Regulation closer to the letter of the law, which requires EU member states to consider the risk of surveillance technology being used for internal repression or to violate international humanitarian or human rights law. These new guidelines should also mandate real transparency over the exports of surveillance technology from EU member states and require companies exporting surveillance technology to undertake meaningful due diligence into whether their products are likely to be used to violate rights. States’ human rights obligations include an obligation to regulate the sale and export of surveillance technology. This is due to the inherent threat to the right to privacy the existence of such technology poses, and the potential violation of other rights , –from freedom of expression and assembly, to the right to life and freedom from torture– that can flow from its use, particularly when used to target individuals and communities on a discriminatory basis. To meet this obligation, it is not enough for states to put in place such regulation, but they need to implement and monitor it to ensure that it is achieving its preventative purpose, Human Rights Watch said. Companies also have their own separate responsibility to respect human rights, which means they should undertake credible human rights due diligence and mitigate human rights risks so that their operations do not facilitate or exacerbate human rights problems. “It appears as if EU countries and EU-based surveillance companies are putting profits above people despite adopting one of the most progressive regulations to curtail the sale of this harmful technology,” Campbell said. “Real transparency is needed to ensure that the dual-use regulation is working as intended.”

By: Katya Tymkiw Students Yedidya Getachew and Maria Fernandez from Stanton College Preparatory School in Jacksonville, Florida who took first place in the 9-10 grade category of the 2026 Ukrainian Holodomor Genocide Student Competition   The Holodomor is a well-known part of Ukrainian history, but it’s not as widely known as part of world history. That’s why the U.S. Committee for Ukrainian Holodomor Awareness began a competition for high school students to help spread awareness and improve education about one of the most devastating genocides of the 20th century.   Now in its fifth year, this growing competition drew entries from 28 high school students across a dozen states—Arizona, California, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Massachusetts, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Tennessee--who submitted poems, essays, PowerPoint and other interactive presentations.   It was remarkable to see students go above and beyond to thoughtfully interweave the impact and consequences of the 1932-33 Holodomor with today’s ongoing genocidal war of aggression, now in its fourth year, as well as other genocides.   The judges were profoundly impressed by the depth of the research, and the passion and creativity that went into these submissions. But even more impressive was the high audience engagement and response, echoed by the teachers’ feedback.   “Students were attentive and engaged, applause at the end was loud and enthusiastic,” teacher Emily Snyder said about her student’s presentation.   About one of the joint projects, teacher Larry J. Knight Jr. commented: “Both students presented themselves as serious minded scholars who are very interested in the Holodomor event and all of the consequences associated with it.”   And teacher Katherine Beckett shared: “Most students had not been aware of this event and were curious about the ramifications to present-day conflicts with important questions.”   Notably, this year’s prize money was generously donated by an anonymous family in New Jersey who are just as dedicated to ensuring the world doesn’t forget about Stalin’s reign of terror.   The high caliber and variety of projects led to robust discussions among the judges, who strove to be as thoughtful in their decisions as the students were in preparing their projects.     The winners in the 11th-12th grade group were: 1st Place: Maria Ustymenko, Wiregrass Ranch High School in Florida 2nd Place: Heidi Rodrigues, Dighton Rehoboth Regional High School in Massachusetts 3rd Place: Amrutha Kunamneni and Yelyzaveta Soltanova, Stanton College Preparatory School in Florida Honorable Mention: Jacob Mead, Guilderland High School, New York Honorable Mention: Kathryn Orth, Padua Academy, Delaware   The winners in the 9th-10th grade group were: 1st Place: Maria Fernandez and Yedidya Getachew, Stanton College Preparatory School in Florida 2nd Place: Nicole Hnativ, Emma Willard School in New York 3rd Place (tie): Yeva Bulatetska, State College of Florida Collegiate School in Florida 3rd Place (tie): Jane Vogel, Cedar Creek High School in New Jersey Honorable Mention: Andriy Zakharko, St. Ignatius High School in Ohio   Winners of the competition received the following prizes: $1,000 for First Place; $500 for Second Place; $300 for Third Place; and $50 for Honorable Mention. In the case of a tie, winners shared the prize money.   Organizers of the competition expressed thanks to everyone who participated in this year’s Holodomor Student Competition. For more information about the competition and participating, email: ukrainecompetition@gmail.com.\ Katya Tymkiw is a former journalist turned digital content strategist. The U.S. Committee for Ukrainian Holodomor Genocide Awareness would like to thank the Holodomor Competition participants for their part in raising awareness about this horrific genocide and its connection to Russia's current genocidal war against Ukraine. Best regards, Oksana Kulynych, Chair Holodomor Student Competition Subcommittee

Mohamed Ibrahim Osman (Bulbul) [left]; Abdihafid Nor Barre (centre) and Abdishakur Mohamed Mohamud (right). | PHOTO/SJS. MOGADISHU, Somalia 9 May 2026 The Somali Journalists Syndicate (SJS) is appalled and strongly condemns the abduction, beatings, causing physical injury and death threats against three journalists — Mohamed Ibrahim Osman (Bulbul), SJS Secretary of Information and Human Rights; Abdihafid Nor Barre, a freelance online journalist; and Abdishakur Mohamed Mohamud of Somali Stream Online — by members of Somalia's counter-terrorism police unit known as the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit, and the National Intelligence and Security Agency (NISA) in Mogadishu on the night of Friday, 8 May 2026. At around 8:20pm on Friday, the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit — a special police unit trained by the U.S Government — together with members of the National Intelligence and Security Agency (NISA), raided a local restaurant in Mogadishu’s Buulo Xuubey Wadajir district, where they beat and abductedthree journalists: Mohamed Ibrahim Osman (Bulbul), Abdihafid Nor Barre and Abdishakur Mohamed Mohamud. The three journalists were having dinner at the restaurant when the raid began. The officers, whose faces were covered with masks, wore gloves and carried tactical rifles fitted with optical sights while NISA officers with pistols stood next to them. According to the journalists and other eyewitnesses, the officers forcibly entered the restaurant and began pointing their guns at the journalists and other members of the public inside the crowded venue. The three journalists told SJS that they were beaten with pistols and kicked as they were escorted out of the restaurant. Abdihafid Nor Barre sustained a head injury that caused bleeding after officers struck him on the head with a pistol. He was taken away handcuffed in a vehicle. Abdihafid was also blindfolded with his shirt while bleeding from the head. "I sustained heavy kicks and punches to my chest and kidneys. They also beat me with their pistols and hit my kidneys. I am feeling immense pain,” Bulbul told SJS on Saturday morning. "I was hit with a pistol by a NISA officer while two officers of the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit were pointing their guns at me with flashlights directed into my eyes. I became dizzy and could not see anything. I started shouting loudly so that people nearby could hear me, but they intensified the beating until I lost consciousness,” Abdihafid told SJS. "When I woke up, I was in their car, blindfolded and handcuffed, with my chest facing the ground.” Abdishakur Mohamed Mohamud told SJS that, prior to the raid, their media office had received threats because of their reporting on forced evictions as well as the planned opposition protests in Mogadishu. All three journalists were transported first to Hodan District Police Station in the city centre before being moved to Yaaqshiid District Police Station in the north of the city. There, the the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit and NISA officers who led the operation questioned them about what they were doing at the restaurant and confiscated their phones. The officers then began interrogating Mohamed Bulbul about a recent article published by The Guardian exposing violations against Sadia Moalim Ali,a young woman activist imprisoned in Mogadishu since 12 April for a peaceful protest. Shortly before midnight, the journalists were transferred to the Banadir Regional Police Command near the NISA headquarters on the east of Mogadishu. At the police headquarters, the three journalists said they were presented to Mogadishu Police Chief Mahdi Omar Mumin, known as Moalim Mahdi, who threatened them "with death if they continued reporting on the opposition protests” scheduled for Sunday, 10 May. Moalim Mahdi, a former Al-Shabaab terror group defector who previously involved in multiple attacks against journalists, also questioned Mohamed Bulbul about the recent piece with The Guardian concerning Sadia Moalim Ali which Bulbul co-reported. "Moalim Mahdi asked me how I got the contacts and why I was interested in the case of Sadia Moalim Ali. I told him that it was my journalistic duty to do that and that Sadia is an innocent citizen that deserves advocacy,’ Mohamed Bulbul told SJS. The journalists said that Moalim Mahdi told them he was "tired of arresting journalists” and that if they did not remain silent about the protests and other developments in Mogadishu, including the case of Sadia Moalin Ali, the only option remaining for them would be "death.” While at the police headquarters, officers removed Abdihafid’s bloodstained clothes on the orders of Moalim Mahdi and instructed him to remain silent about the injuries he had sustained. Around midnight, the three journalists were released. Abdihafid Nor Barre and Mohamed Bulbul were later taken to a local hospital by colleagues. Sources at the restaurant that came under the raid also told SJS that at least six other young Mogadishu residents active in political campaigns were also arrested and severely beaten, according to the journalists who saw them in custody. One of those detained is a young woman. All remain in detention as of Saturday morning. When SJS contacted the commander of the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit, he declined to comment on last night’s raid. "We express grave concern as we unequivocally condemn the continued misuse of internationally-funded security assistance in Somalia, including U.S-trained counter-terrorism units known as the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit in Mogadishu against our journalists and youth activists. The abduction of Mohamed Ibrahim Bulbul, Abdihafid Nor Barre and Abdishakur Mohamed Mohamud is a direct assault on press freedom and civic space in Mogadishu,” said SJS Secretary General, Abdalle Mumin. "We call for an urgent, independent, and transparent investigation into the kidnappings, beatings, and threats against the three colleagues by the Mobile Vehicle Checkpoint Unit and NISA in Mogadishu, as we also urge accountability for all those responsible, regardless of rank or position,” added Mr. Mumin. 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Gregory H. Stanton, Ph.D.: A Lifelong Voice for Justice, Genocide Prevention, and Global Accountability, speaks at Kwibuka 32 commemoration of Genocide Against the Tutsi The USA New Times May 3, 2026 By Jolie Teta Dr. Gregory Stanton speaks at the Kwibuka 32 commemoration of the 1994 Genocide Against the Tutsis in Rwanda, held at The Catholic University of America, Washington, DC, April 25, 2026 Washington DC – The global fight against genocide and crimes against humanity has been shaped by a small number of determined individuals whose work transcends borders, politics, and generations. Among them stands Gregory H. Stanton, a scholar, legal expert, and human rights advocate whose life’s work has been dedicated to confronting some of the darkest chapters in human history while striving to prevent their recurrence. From his early academic pursuits to his instrumental role in shaping international justice mechanisms—particularly those connected to Rwanda’s recovery after the 1994 Genocide against the Tutsi—Dr. Stanton’s journey reflects a consistent commitment: defending human dignity and ensuring accountability for perpetrators of mass atrocities, wherever they occur. Early Life and Academic Foundations Born in the United States, Gregory Stanton developed an early interest in ethics, justice, and global affairs—interests that would later define his career. His academic path was both rigorous and interdisciplinary, equipping him with the intellectual tools to address complex global crises. He studied at Oberlin College, followed by theological training at Harvard Divinity School, where he explored moral philosophy and the ethical dimensions of human conflict. He later earned his law degree from Yale Law School, one of the world’s most prestigious legal institutions, before completing a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago. This unique combination of theology, law, and social science would become central to his later work—bridging moral responsibility with legal accountability. Early Career and the Cambodian Genocide Project Dr. Stanton’s commitment to genocide prevention took a decisive turn when he founded the Cambodian Genocide Project. At a time when documentation and recognition of the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge were still developing, this initiative played a key role in collecting evidence and raising global awareness. His work contributed to the foundation of the Khmer Rouge Tribunal, which brought legal proceedings against perpetrators of mass violence in Cambodia, reinforcing the principle that justice must follow even the most complex and politically sensitive crimes. Role in International Justice: Rwanda and Beyond One of the most significant chapters in Dr. Stanton’s career came during his service at the U.S. Department of State. There, he contributed directly to the drafting of United Nations resolutions that established the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda following the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda. The genocide, in which more than one million Tutsi were systematically murdered in just 100 days, exposed the devastating consequences of global inaction. Dr. Stanton’s work helped lay the legal groundwork for prosecuting those responsible, ensuring that justice was not abandoned in the face of overwhelming tragedy. He drafted the legal framework and internal rules for the Khmer Rouge Tribunal, further advancing international accountability for crimes against humanity and genocide. From a Rwandan perspective, his involvement in establishing the ICTR represents a critical moment in global justice—helping affirm the truth of what occurred in 1994 and rejecting denial, revisionism, and impunity. He encourages other leaders and countries to learn and adapt to the unity, reconciliation and forgiveness that Rwanda has achieved to ensure that the world can live in peace and harmony. He says that without forgiveness there will be no long-lasting peace in any country. A Critical Evidence on International Inaction Beyond his legal and academic contributions, Gregory H. Stanton has also been outspoken in analyzing the failures of the international community during the 1994 genocide. In his published writings and public commentary, he has argued that the United States, along with other global powers, had the capacity to intervene and potentially prevent or significantly reduce the scale of the genocide. According to his analysis, U.S. military assets—including naval presence in the region and available rapid-response capabilities—could have been mobilized if there had been sufficient political will. He has further criticized the decision by U.S. policymakers at the time to support the withdrawal of United Nations peacekeeping forces from Rwanda, particularly through influence within the United Nations. The reduction of the UN mission, instead of reinforcement, left civilians increasingly vulnerable at the very moment when protection was most urgently needed. Dr. Stanton’s perspective underscores a broader conclusion among genocide scholars: that the genocide in Rwanda was not only a failure of response, but also a failure of political courage. His position aligns with the view that early intervention—military, diplomatic, or humanitarian—could have saved hundreds of thousands of lives. While these arguments remain part of ongoing scholarly and policy discussions, they reinforce a central theme of his life’s work: genocide is preventable when the international community chooses to act decisively. Academic Leadership and Teaching Dr. Stanton has also made a profound impact in academia. He served as a professor of genocide studies at George Mason University and as the James Farmer Professor in Human Rights at the University of Mary Washington. He also taught law at Washington and Lee University. Through these roles, he mentored generations of students, policymakers, and activists—ensuring that the lessons of genocide are studied, understood, and applied in modern contexts. The Ten Stages of Genocide: A Global Framework Perhaps Dr. Stanton’s most widely recognized contribution is his development of the Ten Stages of Genocide. Originally introduced in 1996 as eight stages and later expanded to ten, this framework explains that genocide is not a single event but a process that unfolds over time. The stages include classification, symbolization, discrimination, dehumanization, organization, polarization, preparation, persecution, extermination, and denial. This model has become a cornerstone in genocide education and prevention efforts worldwide. It underscores a critical message aligned with Rwanda’s experience: genocide is predictable and preventable when early warning signs are recognized and acted upon. Dr. Gregory on left and Former President of Ibuka-USA Mr. Jason Nshimye during the 32nd Commemoration of 1994 Genocide against Tutsi in Rwanda. Founding Genocide Watch and Global Advocacy Dr. Stanton is the founding president of Genocide Watch and founding Chairman of the Alliance Against Genocide. These organizations monitor potential genocide situations around the world, issue alerts, and advocate for timely international intervention. He has consistently spoken out against human rights abuses—regardless of geography, politics, or ideology—reinforcing a universal principle: no community should face extermination, displacement, or persecution without accountability. Present-Day Work and Ongoing Mission Today, Gregory H. Stanton continues to lead efforts in genocide prevention, early warning analysis, and international advocacy. Through Genocide Watch and global partnerships, he remains actively engaged in monitoring conflict zones, advising policymakers, and educating the public. His mission remains clear and urgent: Prevent genocide before it begins Hold perpetrators accountable Combat denial and misinformation Promote reconciliation grounded in truth A Legacy of Accountability and Prevention Gregory Stanton’s legacy is defined not only by what he has achieved but by the enduring relevance of his work. From Cambodia to Rwanda and beyond, his contributions have helped shape the global response to genocide—transforming lessons of the past into tools for prevention. For Rwanda, his role in advancing international justice stands as part of a broader global recognition of the truth of 1994 and the necessity of accountability. His outspoken critique of international inaction during the genocide further reinforces a powerful lesson: the cost of hesitation and political indifference can be catastrophic. For the world, his message remains clear: genocide is not inevitable. It is a preventable crime, and preventing it requires courage, truth, and decisive action. Dr. Gregory Stanton has a Legacy of Accountability and Prevention of Genocide in the world. He was in Washington DC during the commemoration of 1994 Genocide against Tutsi in Rwanda Copyright 2026 The USA New Times

Itamar Ben-Gvir, center, the national security minister, and other Israeli hard-liners campaigned on a promise to execute Palestinian militants.Credit...Erik Marmor/Getty Images Genocide Emergency Alert: Israel’s Death Penalty Law Violates International Law and Israel’s Basic Law Israel has executed only two convicted criminals since 1948. The first was Meir Tobianski, executed in 1948 for treason, who was posthumously exonerated. The second was Adolf Eichmann, executed in 1962 for crimes against humanity, war crimes, and crimes against the Jewish people. On March 30, 2026, in a 62 to 47 vote, Israel’s parliament passed a law mandating capital punishment—by hanging—for acts of terrorism and killings “negating the existence of the State of Israel”. The law includes procedures that expedite executions and it sharply limits opportunities for appeal. The law as written will be exclusively applied to Palestinians. The law was introduced by the far-right Jewish Power party led by National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir. The law’s scope is explicitly exclusionary. Israeli citizens and residents are not subject to its provisions. Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza will be prosecuted in military courts. Israeli settlers in the West Bank are subject to civilian courts. The West Bank and Gaza will have two unequal legal systems. Palestinians may be sentenced to death. Israelis will not be subject to capital punishment. The law violates Article 4 -- protection of life, body and dignity in Israel’s Basic Law. The law weakens safeguards traditionally associated with use of the death penalty. It includes lowered evidentiary thresholds, altered judicial requirements, and the possibility of convictions without unanimity. It imposes an accelerated timeline for executions— 90 days—restricting meaningful avenues for review and heightening the risk of irreversible error. Israeli military courts have been trying Palestinians in the Occupied Territories since 1967. Military court judges and prosecutors are always Israeli soldiers in uniform. Palestinian defendants are almost always convicted for violating orders issued by Israel. Military courts are powerful mechanisms for maintaining Israel’s control over Palestinians Israeli military courts have a longstanding record of discrimination against Palestinians. Conviction rates in military courts reach 96 percent, raising serious questions about the presumption of innocence and the independence of judicial proceedings. Amnesty International, B’Tselem and the UN Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian territories have documented coercive interrogation practices, including torture, to extract “confessions.” Israel is a State-Party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), the Hague Conventions of 1907, and the Geneva Conventions. ICCPR Article 6(2) permits capital punishment only under the most restrictive conditions. Where it has not been abolished, the death penalty must be reserved for the “most serious crimes” and applied in full compliance with stringent fair trial guarantees. Imposition of capital punishment that discriminates by ethnic identity or citizenship is collective punishment that violates Article 33 of the Geneva Conventions. It is a war crime. The Hague Conventions of 1907 and the Fourth Geneva Convention prohibit occupying powers from resettling their citizens in occupied territories. They protect the rights of populations under occupation. Under the Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts by the International Law Commission, states are obligated not to recognize or support discriminatory policies under international law. The UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and Amnesty International have called for repeal of this discriminatory law. Genocide Watch condemns the 2026 Israeli death penalty law and calls for its repeal. The Supreme Court of Israel should rule that the 2026 death penalty law violates Israel’s Basic Law: Human Dignity and Liberty, Articles 2 and 4 (“All persons are entitled to protection of their life, body, and dignity.”

Hindutva & Zionism: Exclusionary Religion, Racism, and Nationalism A Formula for Forced Displacement and Genocide By Areeka Khan, Genocide Watch March 2026 PHOTO ILLUSTRATION: SAM FINE/PHOTOS VIA GETTY IMAGES This report examines the historical origins and social impact of Hindutva in India and Zionism in Israel and Palestine. It explores how these ideologies shape national identity, citizenship, and belonging, and how they produce, sustain, and justify exclusion, forced displacement, apartheid, and genocide 1. Introduction India’s soil is layered with memory. Under its surface are the wreckage of empires and the footprints of refugees. India’s air vibrates with Sanskrit chants from temple courtyards and azaans from mosque minarets. India’s markets resound with the polyphony of hundreds of languages. India is a multicolored tapestry woven from the braided threads of a thousand cultures. India is not just a nation. It is a subcontinent where Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Jains, Buddhists, Zoroastrians, and Christians have lived together for millennia. Yet, in the early decades of the twentieth century, a new imagination took shape, one that sought to tidy up the mess of history, to scrape away its sedimentary layers, and declare the land singularly Hindu. Vinayak Damodar Savarkar called it Hindutva—not a religion, but a nation carved out of blood, ancestry, and devotion to a mythical Hindu civilization. In his 1923 The Essentials of Hindutva, he argued that being Hindu was not about gods or prayers but about ancestry, territory, and culture. India, he wrote, was a fatherland (pitrbhu) and a sacred land (punyabhu) only for Hindus, including reluctantly Buddhists, Jains, and Sikhs, while explicitly excluding Muslims and Christians, whose holy lands, he spat, lay elsewhere. In a single stroke, Hindutva turned millions of Indians into strangers in their own homes. Savarkar’s imprisonment by the British in the Andaman Islands hardened his creed. From his cell he seethed at the privileges granted to Muslim inmates—religious texts, communal prayers—while Hindus were denied the same. To him, this was not just prison politics; it was proof of an eternal conspiracy. Out of these resentments, he fashioned a theology of revenge, sharpened in later works like Six Glorious Epochs of Indian History and Hindutva: Who is a Hindu? His writings sanctified violence, dressed up grievance as destiny, and suggested that cruelty was not only permitted but necessary. In Six Glorious Epochs, he mourned that Hindus, when invaded by Muslim rulers, had suffered the barbarity of rape, forced conversion, and slaughter. In Savarkar’s arithmetic, brutality against Muslims was not shameful, but payment of an unpaid debt, overdue. A century later, Savarkar’s words are no longer confined to pamphlets on dusty bookshelves. They are government policy. They justify pogroms. They are expressed in lynching videos passed around on WhatsApp, like postcards of lynchings sold in the segregationist American South. In 2015, Mohammad Akhlaq was murdered in Dadri over rumors of beef in his fridge. In 2017, Junaid Khan, fifteen years old, was stabbed to death on a train after being called a “beef-eater” and a“Pakistani.” Dairy farmer Pehlu Khan was lynched in Rajasthan despite showing his papers proving that his cattle were legal. Rakbar Khan died as police delayed his medical care. Tabrez Ansari was beaten for hours in Jharkhand and forced to chant Hindu slogans until he stopped breathing. These murders were not isolated crimes or accidents. They were the enactments of Hindutva’s script. They were warnings written on the bodies of Muslims. Beyond the mobs, Hindutva has crept into law, schoolbooks, television anchors’ scripts, and judges’ verdicts. Anti-conversion laws, advertised as cultural protection, are weaponized to harass and humiliate Muslims and Christians. Textbooks are airbrushed. The architectural achievements of Muslim emperors are denied and turned to dust. Hindu kings glow in nationalist halos. Newspapers vomit conspiracy theories about “Love Jihad.” Police file cases against victims instead of their assailants. Courts stall or shrug until cases against murderers are dismissed. The state no longer merely tolerates Hindutva—it has become its open ideology. What began as a cultural and political theory now masquerades as manufactured consent, shaping citizenship, subjecting food, love, prayer, politics, and history to police surveillance. Hindutva does not just govern India; it colonizes imagination itself. 2. Palestine: Memory, Exile, and the Birth of Zionism Four thousand kilometers (2500 miles) away in Jerusalem, the maps of history were already ancient when colonial rulers redrew them. Ottoman rule had mapped its provinces, Crusaders had marched and fallen, empires had come and gone, but the land remained stitched together by villages, markets, olive groves, and marriage. Muslims, Christians, and Jews lived as neighbors—sometimes quarrelsome, sometimes close, always entangled in the ordinary rhythms of farming, trade, and worship. Palestine was not a blank canvas; it was a manuscript written and rewritten across centuries. In the late 19th century, Jewish communities in Europe—trapped in ghettos, ravaged by pogroms in Russia, Poland, and Ukraine—lived in a continent that treated them as parasites and scapegoats. They fled, but persecution followed them. America turned them away. The Holocaust had not yet plunged Europe into night, but its darkness was already gathering. Responses diverged. The General Jewish Labour Bund insisted on fighting for dignity where people already lived, adopting the Marxist languages of solidarity and class struggle. Others, like Theodor Herzl, Menachem Usishkin, and Vladimir Jabotinsky, conjured another answer: emigrate to Palestine. Herzl sought imperial patrons, Usishkin argued that Palestinians must be removed, and Jabotinsky declared that only forceful domination could secure survival. Chaim Weizmann polished Zionism to make it shine for diplomats, winning over Britain. The Jewish National Fund and Histadrut laid the groundwork for Israel by buying land, fencing it, and forbidding Palestinian labor. In 1917, Britain issued the Balfour Declaration, a colonial promissory note promising Palestine as a “national home for the Jewish people” without consulting a single Palestinian. Between 1920 and 1947, waves of Jewish immigrants arrived under British protection. As settlements expanded, Palestinian farmers were displaced, and resistance committees—like the Arab Higher Committee—were dismissed as nuisances by the imperial office. The land was quietly being prepared for dispossession. Under Nazi Germany, the Holocaust ravaged Europe. Six million Jews and six million others were exterminated in camps and forests, leaving survivors staggering into the ruins of Europe in nothing but death camp rags. For many Jews, Palestine became not just a future homeland but the only imaginable refuge. Zionism was fertilized by the ashes of crematoria—part survival instinct, part colonial opportunity, part imperial convenience. In 1947, Jews owned 6.6% of Palestine's land. In 1947, the UN Partition Plan (Resolution 181) carved Palestine into fragments, granting the Jewish minority 55% of the land while ignoring Palestinian opposition.18 What began as civil conflict between Jewish and Arab communities in Mandatory Palestine quickly escalated into a regional war following the declaration of the State of Israel in May 1948. The ink on Israel’s independence declaration was hardly dry when all of Israel’s Arab neighbors attacked, determined to destroy Israel. By the time armistice agreements were signed in 1949, 5,000 to 13,000 Palestinians and 6000 Jewish Israelis were dead. Israel emerged controlling 78% of the territory of Mandatory Palestine — far more than was allocated under the UN plan. No Palestinian state was established. Israel’s Arab neighbors attacked again in three wars. The Six-Day War ended in 1967, with Israel occupying the West Bank, Gaza Strip, and East Jerusalem. Israel’s effective control increased to nearly allof historic Palestine. In 1948, the Nakba began. 800,000 Palestinians were expelled from Israel and over 400 Palestinian villages were demolished. Olive groves were abandoned. Palestinian families carried keys to homes they hoped to return to. Exile calcified into permanent forced displacement. In 2026, Israel maintains military control over nearly all of Palestine, with 700,000 Jewish settlers in the West Bank and East Jerusalem. Jewish settlements in the West Bank violate international law, including: Fourth Geneva Convention (1949), Article 49(6) – which prohibits an occupying power from transferring parts of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies; UN Security Council Resolutions 242 (1967) and 2334 (2016), which affirm that territory cannot be acquired by war; The Hague Conventions (1907) – which require an occupying power to administer the territory without making permanent changes for its own benefit. 2. The Impact of Zionism Zionism, some scholars argue, is not only an ideology for ethnic and religious nationalism. It is also a justification for settler colonialism. Patrick Wolfe called it the “logic of elimination.” The slogan “a land without a people for a people without a land” justified two goals in one sentence: depriving Palestinians of ownership, and making Jewish settlement appear inevitable. In 1975, UN General Assembly Resolution 3379 labeled Zionism as a form of racism. This designation was revoked in the Oslo Accords, reflecting the deep political and conceptual ambiguity surrounding Zionism itself. For Jews, Zionism represents a national liberation movement, a refuge from persecution, and the hope of Jewish survival after the Holocaust. Zionism was never unanimously supported by Jews. Bundists, Reform Jews, followers of the Lubavicher Rebbe, and advocates of accommodation with plural societies like the USA opposed Zionism. They argued that Jewish survival did not require emigration to Israel or dispossession of half of Palestine. But history, written in Jewish blood and Palestine’s soil, spoke louder than the voices of doubters. For Palestinians, Zionism has been experienced as a settler-colonial project. Most Palestinians see Zionism as a justification for forced displacement of Palestinians and dispossession of Palestinian territory. For Europeans, Americans, Russians, and others, the meaning of Zionism has varied with diplomacy, ideology, and realpolitik, sometimes valorized, sometimes condemned. At the time of the 1978 Camp David Accords, there were 7,400 Israeli settlers in the West Bank (excluding East Jerusalem), and 500 in Gaza. The Oslo Accords (1993–95) did not resolve the conflict between Israel and Palestinians. They created a labyrinth of split authority, with Gaza fenced off and the West Bank carved into checkpoints and cantons. Settlements spread faster than ever, and the so-called “peace process” became a process without peace, scattering Palestinians into disconnected territories. International institutions circled but did not bite. UNSC resolution 242 (1967) and 338 (1973) called for Israeli withdrawal and negotiation. But the U.S. armed Israel, vetoed UN resolutions, and nullified international consensus. The world nodded and looked away. 3. When Religious Ideas Become State Ideologies If Zionism and Hindutva were only ideologies, they might have remained utopian fantasies. But both ideas found states as sponsors, bureaucracies to command, and armies to enforce their logic. Once ideas seize institutions, they stop being debates and become daily life measured in checkpoints, laws, censuses, and corpses. Institutionalization makes abstract ideas into concrete reality. In this reification of exclusionary religion lies the kinship of Hindutva and Zionism. They are not just parallel projects in different historical and cultural settings. They mirror each other. The founders of Hindutva studied Zionism and learned how to make myth into legitimate statecraft. In India, the RSS and its political offspring, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), slipped from the margins of Indian politics into the center, carrying with them the dream of a Hindu Rashtra, a Hindu Nation. In 2014, Narendra Modi—whose tenure as Chief Minister of Gujarat was soaked in the blood of the 2002 genocidal massacres—was sworn in as Prime Minister of India. Under Modi, Hindutva ceased to be an ominous backstage whisper. It became state policy. Vigilante mobs lynched Muslims accused of eating beef. Courts looked away. Police filed charges against victims instead of their attackers. The state was no longer a neutral referee; it picked the side of Hindu bigotry. In Israel, Zionism was adopted as a state ideology in 1948. The “Jewish and democratic” contradiction hardened into law as Palestinians inside Israel’s borders became “Arab Israelis,” citizens in name, but separated suspects in practice. The Occupation of 1967 extended Zionism’s reach from the UN recognized boundaries of Israel into Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem. Settlements rose like fortresses. Checkpoints were arms of muscular control. The Occupied Territories became testing grounds for domination: ID cards, permits, curfews, bulldozing Palestinian houses, and collective punishment. Both India and Israel weaponized law. India’s Citizenship Amendment Act (2019) opened doors for every refugee from neighboring countries except Muslims. It defined legitimate citizenship along religious lines. Israel’s Nation-State Law (2018) declared that only Jews have the right to self-determination as citizens of Israel, reducing Palestinians to permanent squatters in their own homeland. In both countries, these laws were not just manifestations of exclusionary policies. They were declarations of the intent to impose apartheid. Governance turned faith into surveillance. In India, the National Register of Citizens rendered Muslim refugees who came to Assam from Bangladesh in 1971 stateless overnight. Muslim families who had lived in Assam for generations, but who lacked paper proof of citizenship, went missing from lists that determined who belonged to India. In Israel, family reunification laws forbade Palestinians in the West Bank or Gaza from marrying Palestinians inside the 1948 borders of Israel, splitting families with merciless precision. Both states spoke of “security.” Both meant exclusion. Even landscapes were conscripted. In India, mosques were demolished, their sites rebuilt as Hindu temples. In Israel, olive groves were uprooted to make way for bypass roads and separation walls. The soil itself was laid waste for belonging to the wrong people. The land was rebuilt according to scripture: temples for Hindus, West Bank settlements for Jews. Religious governance is legitimized theology. Not secular law, but sacred decree enforced by state police. Not democracy, but majoritarian rule dressed as destiny. Hindutva and Zionism do not just govern the state. They govern memory, space, even time—deciding who has a past worth keeping, who has a future worth living. 4. The Enemy Every empire, every racist, ethnic, or national supremacist project, needs its negative shadow. For Hindutva and Zionism, survival depends on conjuring an eternal Enemy—always present, never defeated, forever justifying violence. This is the deepest kinship between Zionism and Hindutva: the invention of the Other. In India, that Other is the Muslim. Not simply a neighbor, not simply another citizen, but the ghost of Mughal rule, painted as the eternal invader even after seven decades of independence. Schoolbooks are rewritten so that centuries of coexistence shrink into a story of conquest and humiliation. From Babri Masjid to Aurangzeb’s tomb, the past is not history—it is weaponry. Hindutva propagandists. From Babri Masjid to Aurangzeb’s tomb, the past is not history—it is weaponry. Hindutva propagandists even claim that the Taj Mahal was not built by Shah Jahan for his late wife but was constructed by Hindus as a Hindu temple. Pogroms in Gujarat, lynchings over beef, riots in Delhi: each is narrated not as aggression but as self-defense against a permanent threat. In Israel, the Palestinian is the eternal enemy. A refugee child in Gaza, a farmer in Hebron, a student in Jerusalem—all are collapsed into the personified “Other.” All are “terrorists.” The state does not distinguish between armed resistance and existence itself. A child throwing a stone, a grandmother keeping the keys to her demolished house, a poet writing of return: all are threats to national security. This flattening of identity is what allows Israel to bomb refugee camps in the name of “counterterrorism.” The enemy is not only killed. He is made ungrievable. Judith Butler calls it the “differential allocation of grief.” “Our” deaths are mourned. Deaths of “Others” are statistics. When a Hindu mob lynches a Muslim man in India, the news cycle frames it as “communal tension.” When an Israeli airstrike buries a Palestinian family, it is “collateral damage.” Euphemisms do the clean-up work for massacres. Both Hindutva and Zionism depend on siege mentalities. Hindutva insists that 200 million Muslims are an internal army, waiting to divide the nation. Zionism insists that six million Palestinians are an existential threat to Israel. In this logic, numbers do not matter; even a starving child is cast as a danger to the state. For Israel, nuclear weapons are the necessary deterrent to Pakistan, Iran, or other Muslim nations that could use nuclear weapons to destroy Israel. The “Enemy” is necessary to maintain an exclusionary ideology. Without the Muslim, Hindutva loses its fuel. Without Palestinians, Arab nations, and Iran, Zionism loses the mortal threats that justify Israel’s existence. The Enemy is the scaffolding that holds the edifice of exclusionary religion upright. That is why for extreme Zionists, peace with genocidal Hamas Palestinians, Hezbollah, and Iran is impossible. Peace would disarm the Enemy. Without the Enemy, the justification for a Greater Israel collapses. Those who would attempt to make peace with the Enemy are traitors. That is why after he signed the Oslo Accords, Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated by a Jewish extremist. 5. Citizenship, Belonging, and Exile Hindutva and Zionism both understand that to truly exile the Other, you not only drive them from their land—you strip them of belonging to a nation. You turn them into ghosts in their own country. In India, this work sharpened with the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA)(2019). It opened the door to Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists, Jains, Parsis, and Christians who are fleeing persecution in neighboring countries. But it slammed the door shut to exclude Muslims. The CAA law is not about defining the rights of refugees. It is about excluding Muslims from becoming citizens of India. Coupled with the National Register of Citizens, millions of Muslims in Assam were rendered stateless overnight. Their names are now missing from government lists that record who has the rights of Indian citizenship, including the right to vote and the right to live in India. The lives of Muslims shrank into piles of documents: ration cards, voter slips, land deeds. A missing piece of paper could erase generations of residence in India. In Israel, exclusion has been underway for decades. The Law of Return (1950) granted every Jew in the world the automatic right to citizenship, even those who had never set foot in Palestine. Palestinians expelled in 1948, meanwhile, were forbidden to return to their homes. In 2018, the Nation-State Law stripped away the pretense. Only Jews, it declared, had the right to self-determination as Israeli citizens. Palestinians became permanent residents in their own homeland, without citizenship, tolerated but never equal. Both India and Israel stage belonging rituals as loyalty tests. In India, Muslims are asked to prove loyalty by chanting “Bharat Mata ki Jai” (identifying India as a Hindu state) on demand. They must accept their mosques as rebuilt on the sites of destroyed Hindu temples. They must bear their persecution in silence. In Israel, Palestinians are asked to accept their dispossession as necessary to obtain jobs in Israel. They must prove at entry points and checkpoints that they have clearances from Israeli authorities that they are not terrorists. Arab Israelis must live in Israel invisibly. Israeli citizenship is conditional, always under review. These requirements are exclusionary theology written in bureaucratic ink. The state is saying: your birth does not entitle you to civil and human rights. Your history does not anchor you in this nation. Your very existence is provisional. It is the slow violence of paperwork, the quiet terror of never being able to prove that you belong and are fully human. 6. Culture as Battlefield If citizenship documents decide who belongs on paper, culture decides who belongs in practice. Hindutva and Zionism walk hand in hand—rewriting, erasing, renaming, demolishing. They are a religious form of Stalinism: expunging names, rewriting history, remaking maps, demolishing temples. In India, history is rewritten with saffron ink. Textbooks quietly drop Mughal emperors, gloss over Partition, exalt myths as facts. Temples rise where mosques once stood. In 1992, the Babri Masjid was torn down brick by brick by bare hands and sledgehammers. It has now been replaced by a gleaming Ram temple, dedicated by Prime Minister Modi himself. Such destruction is less about faith than about conquest. It is meant to tell an entire people: “Your memory is rubble. Ours is marble.” In Israel, the story is uncannily similar. Palestinian villages destroyed in 1948 are replanted with pine forests. Their Arabic names are stripped from maps. Their ruins are buried under parks and Jewish settlements. Mosques are shuttered. Palestinian Christian churches are monitored. Teaching the history of the Nakba is outlawed from classrooms. The word Nakba itself cannot be spoken except in whispers. The erasure of Palestinian culture in Israel is methodical. The forced displacement of Palestinians makes self-censorship necessary for survival. Both Hindutva and Zionism share an obsession: to own the past to control the future. Every defaced shrine, every demolished home, every rewritten textbook repeats the same message: “You don't belong here—you never did.” This is why the battle is not only over land or law but over imagination itself. It is about who gets to dream, who gets to tell stories, who gets to say, “This was ours.” Hindutva and Zionism know that memory is the foundation for resistance. So, they seek to erase it, to police it, to bomb it out of existence. Culture, then, becomes the front line. Not only in the clash of monuments and curricula but in kitchens, in lullabies, in prayers whispered under siege. It is in these quiet acts of remembering, that Hindutva and Zionism face their most dangerous adversary: the refusal to forget. 7. Fear and Narrative Fear is the scaffolding of state power. Advocates of Hindutva and Zionism understand that violence is only half the work. The rest is in the mind. The Other must not only be contained. The Enemy must be imagined as omnipresent, omniscient, omnithreatening. Fear must become habit, ritual, doctrine. In India, Muslims are cast as conspirators, seditionists, invaders dressed in local skin. Mob violence, legal harassment, and social media vibrate with the same pulse: “You are not safe here.” In Israel, Palestinians are statistics instead of persons with names. The protester throwing stones, the mother holding her baby while lining up for food in Gaza, the old man weeping over the bodies of his dead grandchildren—each is framed as a mortal threat. Checkpoints, ID cards, airstrikes, settler patrols: all operate under the rubric of “security,” a euphemism that conceals dispossession. Both the Indian and Israeli regimes weaponize history. Past humiliation becomes present entitlement. For Hindutva, centuries of “Muslim rule” justify lynching and legal discrimination. For Zionism, European anti-Semitism justifies forced deportation, occupation, settlement, and siege. Victimhood becomes a license to kill. Trauma is spun into ethnic and religious supremacy. Yet the Other is stubbornly human. Every demolished mosque, every lynched Muslim, every bombed school, every uprooted olive grove represents a life that refuses to vanish quietly. The existence of the Others, their grief, their memory—these are the cracks in the fortress of fear. Fear is distributed through words, through laws, through media narratives. Citizenship, surveillance, and curriculum work together: the state tells the majority, “You are besieged,” and tells the minority,“You are disposable.” The same narrative is rehearsed endlessly, until it is accepted as fact: the Nation survives only by defeating the Enemy at every turn. But fear has its limits. It may govern bodies, but it cannot govern memory, imagination, or solidarity. For every act of exclusion, every act of terror, there are witnesses who insist on visibility. Palestinians, Muslims, Christians, Dalits—they do not disappear. They speak, they resist, they remember. And in that stubborn insistence, the narrative of fear cracks and crumbles off the sand into the sea. 8. Resistance and Recognition For every ideology that conjures the Other, there is resistance. For every state that demands obedience, there are people who refuse it. Hindutva and Zionism may wield armies, laws, and textbooks—but the human spirit bends neither to propaganda nor to fear. In Palestine, resistance is woven into the very fabric of daily life. Gaza children fly kites over rubble-strewn neighborhoods, their strings defying drones. Families clutch the keys to homes bulldozed in 1948, passing the memory of those houses down through generations. Prayers are offered at checkpoints; poets and musicians transform mourning into song, grief into global witness. Even in the shadow of siege, Palestinians refuse erasure simply by existing, by naming their villages, by insisting the Nakba is not a footnote but an open wound. In India, resistance takes its own forms. Women of Shaheen Bagh sat through the winter of 2019. Indian Constitution in one hand, hope in the other, they turned protest into pedagogy. Students at Jamia Millia Islamia and Aligarh raised their voices even as police batons fell on their heads, reclaiming public space through song, speech, and silent defiance. Resistance is not only survival—it is creation. Counter-histories are written in exile; counter-spaces are carved out in occupied lands; counter-dreams are stitched from scraps of stolen memory. Each act, each chant, each poem, each carefully tended olive tree insists that plurality, justice, and belonging are not concessions from the state—they are rights. They exist independently of recognition. Resistance and recognition are two sides of the same coin. To resist is to declare one exists; to recognize is to honor that existence. Hindutva and Zionism may write laws, redraw borders, and destroy buildings—but they cannot exorcise memory, nor silence the lives that insist on being heard. 9. The Future The story is not over. Every empire, every ideology, imagines its own eternity. Zionism dreams of a secure, Jewish-only homeland, walled and surveilled, where Palestinians are contained or erased. Hindutva dreams of a Hinduized India, cleansed not by armies alone but by law, education, and imagined history. Both envision a world where the majority is permanent, the Other provisional, where democracy is a costume stitched over single hued religious supremacy. The consequences of realizing these visions are stark. Democracy hollowed out, reduced to a game for those who fit the prescribed identity. Minority rights erased, subject to the whims of majoritarian law. Neighboring states guarding militarized borders, populations excluded, resentment festering into cycles of violence and migration. The dream of a “pure” nation, achieved, is not triumph—it is a warning that the explosive mixture of exclusionary religion, racism, and militant nationalism may succeed for a time, as it did in Islamic jihads, the Crusades, European colonialism, US “Manifest Destiny,” Nazism, Stalinism, and Maoism. But its dominance comes at the cost of genocide, measured in millions of deaths, slavery, and tyranny. Zionism and Hindutva may imagine themselves as permanent, unchallengeable, inevitable—but humanity persists. It is in that human persistence, in that stubborn refusal to be erased, that the true stories of India and Israel live on -- in their lands, peoples, and histories. This darkness is not inevitable. History is not a line but a braid: conquest, resistance, memory, imagination, solidarity and freedom movements intertwine. If the humanity of Others is cradled like a secret flame, a different world is possible. One where fear does not dictate who belongs, where plurality is celebrated rather than erased, where law protects rather than weaponizes, where memory is honored rather than buried. The future is in the balance. It is written in keys Palestinians keep to homes that no longer stand. It is murmured in Urdu couplets and flown in kites in Gaza. It is whispered in protests at Shaheen Bagh and Jamia. It is carved in olive trees and ruined mosques. It is taught in lessons and sung in lullabies that never vanish. The erased write themselves back into life every day. The future is a page unturned and unburned. It is a place where love is stronger than hatred, and where justice is more powerful than genocide.

By Alžběta Frommerova Genocide Watch People take part in pro-government rallies in Iran on Jan. 3 2018 Handout from Tasnim News Agency via Reuters As Iran navigates the pressures of the current global war, which has left many Iranians concerned that the conflict may end without meaningful regime change, despite a century-long struggle against tyranny and for democracy, patterns of protests continue to evolve under pressure. Notably, although perceptions of the United States and Israel among Iranians are now deteriorating, this has not led to greater support for the Islamic Republic. This article builds on the previous analysis of the Green Movement by examining the 2017–2018 economic protests--sometimes called the Dey Protests and marked by their scale, violence and lack of coordination--with the aim of shedding light on how and why Iranians have continued to protest under shifting political and socio-economic conditions. The protests began in December 2017, in the conservative city of Mashhad, then spread quickly to more than 80 cities across the country. The protests were driven by economic grievances, including high unemployment, inflation, corruption, and the perceived failure of President Hassan Rouhani’s government to deliver post-sanctions recovery. Demonstrators also criticized state spending on regional conflicts while domestic conditions deteriorated. Before the demonstrations erupted, Iranians had become, on average, 15% poorer, with consumption of basic goods such as bread, milk, and red meat declining by 30% to 50%, and unemployment in some regions exceeding 60%. Unlike earlier movements that centered in urban, university circles, such as the Green Movement, these demonstrations took place in smaller areas and featured more radical slogans, including direct criticism of Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Thus, they also took on a political dimension, even calling for systemic change. The movement appeared socially diverse, but it lacked central leadership, with many participants drawn from economically-marginalized groups facing declining living standards, high unemployment, and worsening inequality, particularly among the youth. However, the scale and unexpected geographic spread of the protests caught political elites off guard, and, as they intensified, segments of the unrest escalated into violence, prompting a state-sponsored crackdown that resulted in thousands of arrests and over 20 deaths. In 2018, protesters went a step further by challenging the regime’s long-standing portrayal of the United States as the “Great Satan.” Many demonstrators openly blamed their own government for domestic failures, not the sanctions imposed by the United States. A key difference between the 2017–2018 protests and earlier episodes in the 1990s lies in their geographical distribution, slogans, and persistence. One of the most significant patterns was their concentration in smaller cities: of all locations where protests occurred, 73% had populations below 380,000, and a quarter were below 105,000. This is noteworthy because small cities in Iran are typically more apolitical and socially conservative, so grievances linked to urban middle-class discontent are less immediately salient. Moreover, protest participation in such settings carries higher personal risk, as close-knit social structures increase the likelihood of identification and arrest. Following the protests, Iranian authorities introduced measures to limit perceived Western influence, including banning English-language teaching in primary schools. This decision was framed as a defense against “cultural invasion.” While officials emphasized protecting national culture, the policy also reflected broader efforts to reassert ideological control despite public demand for greater opportunities. Authorities also moved to restrict information flows, temporarily limiting access to social media platforms such as Instagram and Telegram, which had been widely used to share information and coordinate demonstrations. Moreover, there were reports of deliberate internet slowdowns in parts of the country, further limiting communication among protesters. Despite intensifying repression, all the episodes of protests reflect an enduring pattern of mobilization that adapts to changing political conditions. In this sense, the 2017–2018 protests form part of a longer historical continuum of contention, suggesting that the struggle for political voice and social justice in Iran continues across generations.

March 2026 By the Great Lakes & Central Africa Task Force Secretary Marco Rubio hosts a Democratic Republic of the Congo-Rwanda Peace Agreement signing ceremony between Democratic Republic of the Congo Foreign Minister Thérèse Kayikwamba Wagner and Rwandan Foreign Minister Olivier Nduhungirehe at the Department of State in Washington, D.C., June 27, 2025. (Official State Department photo by Freddie Everett) Despite efforts to negotiate a permanent peace agreement to end the conflict in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), violence, atrocities, and destruction continue. Since January 2025, when the Rwanda-backed March 23rd Movement (M23) took over the city of Goma, conditions have only worsened in the eastern regions of the DRC. M23 first formed in 2009, attacking several cities in late 2012. It resurfaced a decade later in 2021, systematically attacking civilians along with committing sexual violence and acts of gang rape in Kishishe and Binza. Before the January 2025 invasion of Goma, M23 had overtaken much of North and South Kivu, steadily expanding their territory. While the latest atrocities are recent, this conflict is deeply rooted in historical tensions stemming from the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda and the Congo Wars across the late 1990s. M23 presents itself as a protection force for Congolese Tutsi, raising concerns about escaped genocide perpetrators who fled to the DRC. However, civilian massacres, violent land grabs, and involvement in the highly profitable conflict minerals traderaises additional questions about motivation and intent. Over the course of the past year, this conflict has devastated much of the Eastern DRC, with no stable path towards peace. On June 27, 2025, an agreement between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) was signed in Washington, D.C., to uphold a peace deal which was made in 2024. The United States received mineral rights, and within ninety days, signatories pledged to uphold a ceasefire, withdrawal of Rwandan troops from the DRC, and the implementation of a regional economic integration framework. The fatal flaw in the peace agreement is that M23 was not involved in the negotiations. M23 has not signed on to the agreement. M23 showed its disregard for the cease fire only one month later, when along with the Rwanda Defense Force (RDF), attacked fourteen villages and executed around 140 Hutu civilians in North Kivu province between July 10 and July 30 during a military campaign against the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR). On July 19, 2025, the DRC and M23 signed the Declaration of Principles, facilitated by the United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUSCO), in Doha, Qatar. The declaration included support for a ceasefire and measures for the safe return of displaced people. In August, M23 suspended negotiations in Qatar and accused the DRC of breaking the Declaration of Principles by attacking their positions. The DRC denied this allegation. In October 2025, the DRC criticized the European Union for keeping a 2024 mineral deal with Rwanda amid ongoing atrocities in the DRC. They accused the European Union of double standards: imposing fewer sanctions on Rwanda than on Russia for the war in Ukraine. On November 15, 2025, a peace framework was signed between M23 and the DRC in Qatar. Rwandan troop withdrawal would be contingent on the disbanding of the FDLR. In early December, Global Witness released a report on the United States and European Union’s joint railway project to transport minerals from the Lobito Corridor in the DRC. It is estimated that between 700 to 1,200 buildings are at risk of demolition, and 3,500 to 6,500 residents are at risk of eviction. These plans, extracting mineral riches at the expense of Congolese civilians, show the underlying motivations behind Western involvement in peace negotiations. On December 5, 2025, a peace deal was signed between Rwanda and the DRC in Washington, D.C., to finalize the agreement made in June. Amnesty International criticized the deal by saying the peace process had failed to stop ongoing atrocities and hold state actors accountable for their noncompliance. Within a day of the signing, an outbreak of violence was reported in North Kivu and South Kivu. M23 accused Burundi of launching airstrikes which killed 23 people, including civilians, and the DRC accused the RDF and M23 of killing 11 civilians during counterattacks. On December 11, M23, with assistance from Rwandan special forces, captured the city of Uvira in South Kivu, which is on the border between the DRC and Burundi. Mike Waltz, the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, accused Rwanda of breaking the December 5 peace deal and vowed to hold violators accountable. M23 said it would withdraw from Uvira by December 18, which the DRC claimed was meant to distract the United States from acting against Rwanda. Throughout December, M23 and the RDF killed 1,500 civilians with bombs and drones, and displaced 200,000 people – 84,000 of whom fled to neighboring Burundi. Quantifying the death toll has been difficult. In February 2025, the M23 offensive on Goma resulted in between 900 and 2,000 deaths. Between July 9-21, 2025, at least 319 civilians were killed by M23 fighters, aided by members of the Rwanda Defense Force (RDF) which denies involvement. Over 140 civilians were summarily executed in at least 14 villages near Virunga National Park in July 2025, and during the renewed fighting in December 2025, more than 400 civilians were killed in South Kivu. According to the Congolese government, approximately 1,500 civilians have been killed since early December due to bombs and kamikaze drones linked to Rwandan operations. As of late February 2026, further evidence of large-scale massacres has come to light with the February 27 discovery of two mass graves with 171 bodies on the outskirts of the border city of Uvira. On-the-ground reporting from Genocide Watch’s sources in Goma has found further evidence of mass executions, sharing the discovery of records showing the deaths of 15 prisoners in one day alone. This, combined with the practice of enforced disappearances and the secrecy surrounding the location of prisons, presents an additional concern. The DRC is also experiencing one of the largest displacement crises in the world. Currently, 7.3 million people are displaced, including 3.7 million children. Additionally, 25.4 million people are food insecure, including 13.2 million children. Earlier in 2025, an estimated 500,000 people, including 260,000 children, fled violence across eastern DRC. With 21 million people in need of urgent assistance and 1 million Congolese seeking refuge abroad, the DRC represents one of the largest humanitarian crises globally. In Eastern DRC, child recruitment is on the rise. While at least 1,360 children were released from armed groups in Ituri in 2025, 13,000 children remain in armed groups, meaning only about 1 in 10 children gained freedom in 2025. According to the same report, the impacts of this conflict on children are severe, as approximately half of the displaced populations are children under 18. Children report abduction, forced drugging, and exposure to extreme violence. The scale of recruitment, combined with displacement and hunger, significantly increases long-term instability. Furthermore, M23 killed three children in summary executions after overtaking Bukavu in February 2025. The conflict has further destabilized governance and economic systems in eastern DRC. Since M23 seized Goma on January 27, 2025, all banks have remained closed, leaving the economy largely cash based for over a year. The city of Goma is home to nearly 1.5 million children, now living amid financial paralysis and insecurity. Commodity prices have surged, and hospitals that were overwhelmed by patients injured in the attacks over a year ago are still treating long-term injuries. Despite the severity of atrocities, accountability mechanisms are severely inadequate. In October 2025, a follow-up resolution at the HRC pressed the U.N. Human Rights Office to staff the Commission of Inquiry and ensure a field mission to be carried out by January 2026 at the latest. However, this was significantly delayed due to U.N. funding shortages. The failure of successive peace agreements in 2025 shows diplomatic arrangements without enforcement mechanisms cannot address the DRC crisis. Despite multiple ceasefire pledges, M23's continued offensives have killed over 1,500 civilians since December alone and displaced hundreds of thousands more, exposing deep weaknesses in international mediation. Each agreement, from the June Washington deal to the November Qatarframework, has collapsed not from lack of diplomacy, but from lack of consequence. Rwanda has faced no meaningful accountability for its documented support of M23, and the international community has largely allowed mineral interests to take precedence over civilian protection. The double standard the DRC raised, where Western powers maintain mineral agreements with Rwanda while applying far less pressure than they did in response to Ukraine, reflects a broader pattern that when economic interests are at stake, human rights commitments bend. Accountability mechanisms are also eroding at the moment they are needed most, as U.N. funding shortages delay investigations and weaken protection mandates. Children remain in armed groups, families continue to be displaced, and the eastern DRC remains in a state of compounding crisis. Until the international community imposes real consequences on those responsible and addresses the root causes driving conflict, peace agreements will remain gestures which fail to protect affected communities.