Media Review: Blockades Are Weapons of Policy for Some, Crimes for Others

Media Review: Blockades Are Weapons of Policy for Some, Crimes for Others

    Sunday, April 19, 2026   No comments

In the escalating tensions surrounding the Strait of Hormuz, a familiar rhetorical pattern has emerged: actions labeled "economic terrorism" or "blackmail" when undertaken by Iran are framed as legitimate instruments of statecraft when deployed by the United States and its allies (Saudi Arabia and UAE have imposed a crushing blockade against Yemen since 2017). This selective application of moral and legal judgment reveals not merely a policy disagreement, but a deeper structural asymmetry in how international norms are invoked and enforced.

In March 2026, UAE Minister of Industry and Advanced Technology Dr. Sultan Al Jaber declared at CERAWeek that "weaponizing the Strait of Hormuz is not an act of aggression against one nation. It is economic terrorism against every nation." His statement echoed U.S. rhetoric, with President Donald Trump asserting that Iran "cannot blackmail us" with threats to close the strategic waterway.

Iran's position, articulated through official channels, frames its actions differently. Tehran has demanded compensation estimated at $270 billion for infrastructure damage sustained during recent U.S.-Israeli military operations, proposing a mechanism that could include transit fees on vessels passing through the Strait. Iranian officials argue this is not coercion but a lawful claim for reparations under international law principles governing state responsibility for wrongful acts.

The accusation of "economic terrorism" directed at Iran stands in stark contrast to the documented history of U.S. foreign policy. The United States has employed economic sanctions and blockades as primary tools of statecraft for decades. Following the 1979 Iranian Revolution, Washington imposed comprehensive economic, trade, and financial sanctions that have expanded under successive administrations.

In 2010, the U.S. introduced "secondary sanctions" compelling foreign entities to choose between access to American markets and engagement with Iran—a form of economic coercion that significantly reduced Iranian oil exports by 1.4 million barrels per day. These measures were not framed as "terrorism" but as legitimate instruments of non-military pressure.

International law scholars note that economic sanctions have become a prominent part of the American response to foreign state involvement in international terrorism, yet the legal distinction between punitive sanctions and what critics term "economic warfare" remains contested. The Geneva Centre for Security Policy defines "economic terrorism" narrowly as attempts at economic destabilization by non-state groups, a definition that does not clearly encompass state-led sanctions regimes.

Under modern international law, blockades are considered acts of war. According to established doctrine, a blockade is legal only if applied in self-defense and conducted in accordance with principles of necessity and proportionality. The United Nations Charter permits blockades under Article 42, but only as measures authorized by the Security Council to maintain or restore international peace and security.

The Strait of Hormuz presents particular legal complexity. As an international strait, it is governed by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which guarantees transit passage for all vessels. The International Maritime Organization has affirmed that "freedom of navigation is a fundamental principle of international maritime law, and it must be respected by all Parties, with no exception."

However, the application of these principles in practice reveals asymmetries. While Iran's threat to restrict passage has been widely condemned, legal analysts note that a U.S. naval blockade of Iranian ports—absent explicit Security Council authorization or clear self-defense justification—also raises significant questions under international law. As one maritime security specialist observed, such a blockade "is legal under international law but contradicts the ceasefire and has limitations."

The Compensation Question: Precedent and Principle

Iran's demand for $270 billion in compensation for infrastructure damage invokes established principles of state responsibility. Under international law, states that commit internationally wrongful acts are obligated to make full reparation for injury caused. The Iran-United States Claims Tribunal, established after the 1979 revolution, created precedent for adjudicating such claims through neutral arbitration.

The political reality complicates legal principle. Iran's proposal to fund compensation through a Hormuz transit protocol has been characterized by critics as leverage, while similar mechanisms—such as sanctions relief negotiated in the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action—were framed as diplomatic compromise. This divergence in framing underscores the central concern: when does economic pressure constitute legitimate statecraft, and when does it cross into coercion that violates sovereign equality?

International legal scholarship has noted that economic coercion is regulated differently when undertaken collectively under UN auspices, but unilateral economic pressure occupies a gray zone in international law.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis illuminates a broader challenge in international relations: the gap between the universalist aspirations of international law and the particularist practices of powerful states. When the same action—using economic leverage to achieve political ends—is condemned as "terrorism" when undertaken by one actor but normalized as "statecraft" when deployed by another, the credibility of the rules-based order erodes.

The Gaza Blockade: A Case Study in Enduring Economic Pressure

The double standard becomes even more pronounced when examining the blockade of Gaza, imposed by Israel with sustained U.S. diplomatic and material support since 2007. For nearly two decades, restrictions on the movement of people and goods through land crossings, airspace, and territorial waters have severely constrained Gaza's economy, limited access to essential supplies, and contributed to recurring humanitarian crises. International organizations, including the United Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross, have repeatedly warned that the blockade amounts to collective punishment, prohibited under international humanitarian law. Despite these concerns, the policy has persisted through multiple U.S. administrations. Even during periods when Washington promoted so-called "peace plans" aimed at resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the fundamental architecture of the blockade remained intact, with humanitarian exemptions often insufficient to address systemic deprivation. This continuity underscores a central contradiction: when a U.S. ally enforces a long-term blockade with profound civilian consequences, the language of "economic terrorism" is notably absent from official discourse.

The UAE's Precarious Balancing Act

The UAE's Precarious Balancing Act

    Friday, January 30, 2026   No comments

Wealth, Power, and the Cost of Ambition

The United Arab Emirates has engineered one of the most remarkable transformations in modern history—morphing from a collection of desert sheikhdoms into a glittering global hub of finance, tourism, and geopolitical influence. Yet beneath the soaring skyscrapers of Dubai and Abu Dhabi lies a more complicated reality: a nation-state where approximately 85% of residents possess no political voice, where foreign policy pivots between great powers with transactional precision, and where regional ambitions increasingly strain alliances once considered unshakable.

The UAE's economic miracle rests upon a demographic paradox. Emirati citizens—ethnic Arabs whose families trace roots to the seven emirates—comprise only 11–15% of the population. The remaining 85–89% are foreign workers, ranging from highly paid Western executives to South Asian laborers who constructed the very towers that define the UAE's skyline. This majority population lives under a kafala (sponsorship) system that legally ties workers to employers, restricts freedom of movement, and denies pathways to citizenship regardless of decades of residence.

Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have documented systemic abuses: confiscated passports, wage theft, dangerous working conditions, and barriers to unionization. While recent labor reforms have introduced modest improvements—such as allowing job changes without employer permission—fundamental disenfranchisement remains. Migrant workers cannot vote, run for office, or meaningfully influence laws governing their lives. The state justifies this arrangement as necessary for economic management; critics call it a caste system financed by oil wealth, where prosperity for the few depends on the political silencing of the many.

Playing All Sides: A Foreign Policy of Calculated Ambiguity

The UAE has mastered what some analysts call "hedging diplomacy"—cultivating relationships with rival powers simultaneously to maximize leverage and minimize vulnerability. This approach has yielded significant returns but carries growing risks.

Abu Dhabi positions itself as a steadfast U.S. security partner: hosting American military bases, normalizing relations with Israel through the Abraham Accords, and providing counterterrorism intelligence. Yet it simultaneously deepens ties with Washington's strategic competitors. The UAE has become a favored sanctuary for sanctioned Russian oligarchs, with Dubai's luxury real estate market absorbing billions in assets fleeing Western sanctions after Moscow's 2022 invasion of Ukraine. U.S. intelligence sources have alleged Emirati officials shared identities of American intelligence officers with Russian counterparts—a breach that would constitute a profound betrayal of trust.

With China, the relationship runs deeper still. The UAE hosts Chinese surveillance technology firms, collaborates on artificial intelligence development, and welcomed Huawei's 5G infrastructure despite U.S. security warnings. When Washington conditioned a potential F-35 fighter jet sale on guarantees against Chinese espionage, Abu Dhabi responded by purchasing French Rafale jets—a pointed signal of its refusal to choose sides.

This multi-vector strategy extends to regional conflicts. While publicly aligned with Saudi Arabia in Yemen's civil war, the UAE covertly armed the Southern Transitional Council (STC), a separatist force seeking to fracture Yemen—a direct contradiction of Riyadh's objective to preserve Yemeni unity. Similar patterns emerged in Libya, where UAE-backed forces assaulted Tripoli against UN wishes, and in Sudan, where Western intelligence agencies accuse Abu Dhabi of supplying weapons to the Rapid Support Forces amid a campaign of ethnic cleansing.

The Saudi Rift and America's Reckoning

These contradictions may be reaching a breaking point. In late 2025, Saudi Arabia—long the UAE's senior Gulf partner—issued a stark ultimatum: withdraw all military forces from Yemen and cease support for separatists within 24 hours. Riyadh backed its demand with airstrikes on the port of Mukalla, targeting vessels allegedly carrying Emirati weapons. The move signaled an end to Riyadh's tolerance for Abu Dhabi's parallel agenda in Yemen, which Saudi officials now view as an existential threat to their southern border.

For Washington, the Saudi-UAE rupture presents a dilemma. The UAE remains valuable: a stable platform for U.S. forces, a counterweight to Iranian influence, and an investor in American assets. Yet its simultaneous courtship of Moscow and Beijing, its sanctuary for sanctioned oligarchs and organized crime figures like drug lord Daniel Kinahan, and its destabilizing regional interventions increasingly undermine core U.S. interests.

The Biden administration had grown wary of Emirati duplicity. The Trump administration, while embracing Gulf monarchies rhetorically, also confronted UAE-China technology ties. With geopolitical competition intensifying, American patience for "allies" who hedge against U.S. strategic priorities may be wearing thin—especially as Saudi Arabia, under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, asserts itself as the undisputed Gulf leader and aligns more closely with Washington's regional framework.

An Empire of Sand?

The UAE's model—concentrating political power among a tiny citizen elite while leveraging hydrocarbon wealth to purchase global influence—has proven remarkably effective for decades. But its sustainability faces mounting pressures: Saudi assertiveness, American strategic recalibration, and the moral contradiction of a "tolerant" society built on systemic disenfranchisement.

The UAE is not an empire in the classical sense. It commands no formal colonies. Yet its strategy—using capital to shape outcomes in Sudan, Somalia, Yemen, and beyond while denying political rights at home—reflects an imperial mindset: that wealth confers the right to reorder weaker states' destinies without accountability.

Whether this model survives depends on choices Abu Dhabi now faces. It can double down on transactional opportunism, risking isolation as great powers demand clearer allegiances. Or it can undertake genuine reforms—extending labor rights, accepting constraints on destabilizing interventions, and choosing strategic clarity over perpetual hedging.

The world has long excused the UAE's contradictions because of its gleaming airports and financial hubs. But as Yemen fractures, Sudan burns, and great-power competition hardens, the luxury of ambiguity may be ending. The UAE built a nation on sand. Its next challenge is proving that sand can bear the weight of empire—or that it ever should have tried.

In the News: "Terrorism" as an Instrument for Power to Rewrite Morality

In the News: "Terrorism" as an Instrument for Power to Rewrite Morality

    Tuesday, December 09, 2025   No comments

In the echoing halls of State power, words are never just words. They are weapons—sharpened, aimed, and deployed with chilling precision. In modern times, few labels carry the weight, stigma, and lethal consequence of “terrorist.” Once uttered by an authority, it can shatter lives, dissolve rights, and justify violence that would otherwise be unthinkable. However, history—and current events—reveal a disturbing truth: the designation of “terrorism” is rarely about objective danger. More often, it is a political tool, a fluid and arbitrary label calibrated not by justice, but by convenience.

Consider this: in December 2025, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis declared the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR)—one of the largest Muslim civil rights organizations in the United States—a “foreign terrorist organization.” Texas Governor Greg Abbott had done the same just weeks earlier. Neither group is listed as such by the U.S. State Department. CAIR, founded in 1994, operates 25 chapters nationwide, advocating for religious freedom, challenging discrimination, and engaging in voter outreach. Its “crime”? Being visibly Muslim in a political climate where visibility itself can be deemed subversive.

DeSantis’s executive order bars state contracts, employment, and funding from flowing to CAIR or anyone who has “provided material support” to it—a phrase so broad it could criminalize donating to a mosque that partners with CAIR on community programs. CAIR has vowed to sue, calling the move “unconstitutional” and “defamatory.” And rightly so. This isn’t counterterrorism; it’s political theater dressed in the language of national security.

But the deeper scandal lies not just in this act of domestic overreach—it’s in the glaring hypocrisy that reveals how empty the term “terrorist” has become.

Go back to Algeria in the 1950s. French colonial authorities branded the National Liberation Front (FLN)—fighters resisting decades of brutal occupation—as “terrorists.” They were hunted, tortured, imprisoned, and executed under that label. Today, the FLN is recognized as the vanguard of a legitimate anti-colonial struggle. Their “terrorism” was, in truth, resistance to systemic dehumanization. The label was never about violence per se; it was about who held the pen that wrote history—and the laws.

Fast forward to the 21st century. The United States spent trillions of dollars, launched endless wars, and dismantled civil liberties in the name of fighting al-Qaeda and its offshoots. Then, when Abu Mohammad al-Jolani—once a senior commander in al-Qaeda’s Syrian affiliate—rebranded himself as Ahmed al-Sharaa and emerged as the de facto leader of post-Assad Syria, something curious happened. The U.S. State Department quietly removed him from its terrorist watchlist. Western diplomats began treating him not as a wanted extremist, but as a pragmatic statesman who, in their telling, came to power through “the freest of elections.” Never mind that al-Sharaa’s forces committed documented atrocities. Never mind the ideological continuity between his past and present. What mattered was utility: he now aligned with geopolitical interests. The label evaporated not because the man changed—but because the politics did.

This is the arbitrariness at the heart of the terrorism designation. It is not a fixed moral category. It is a switch that powerful states flip on or off depending on whether a group serves or threatens their agenda. Liberation fighters become terrorists when they defy empire; terrorists become leaders when they serve it.

And now, at home, that same logic is being turned inward. Muslim civil society groups like CAIR—organizations that file lawsuits against discriminatory policies, defend worshippers facing hate crimes, and register voters—are recast as foreign threats. Why? Because vilifying them energizes a political base. Because associating Islam with terror—even without evidence—fuels a narrative of civilizational conflict that benefits those in power.

The result is not safety, but silencing. When “terrorist” can mean both an Algerian schoolteacher smuggling pamphlets under French rule and an American lawyer defending mosque vandalism victims in Florida, the word loses all meaning. It becomes what it has always been in practice: a cudgel for the powerful to strike down the inconvenient.

True security does not come from arbitrary labels or executive orders signed for headlines. It comes from justice, due process, and the courage to distinguish between those who threaten innocent lives and those who merely challenge the status quo. Until then, the word “terrorism” will remain not a shield for the public—but a sword for the State.

The Political Instrumentalization of “Terrorism” and Sanctions in Contemporary Foreign Policy

The Political Instrumentalization of “Terrorism” and Sanctions in Contemporary Foreign Policy

    Thursday, May 15, 2025   No comments

 The recent developments surrounding former jihadist Ahmed al-Sharaa—formerly known as Abu Mohammed al-Jolani—and his transformation from a wanted terrorist leader into a sitting president welcomed by the President of the United States illustrate a deeply troubling fact in international relations: the arbitrary use of the “terrorism” label and economic sanctions as tools of political convenience rather than principled governance.

In 2013, al-Sharaa was designated by the United States as a “Specially Designated Global Terrorist” due to his leadership of the al-Qaeda affiliate in Syria, Jabhat al-Nusra, and his alleged role in orchestrating suicide bombings. At one point, the U.S. placed a $10 million bounty on his capture. Today, however, he shares tea and diplomatic smiles with President Donald Trump, without any transparent legal or procedural process to formally clear his name of terrorism charges. This dramatic pivot—absent any public renunciation of past actions, judicial review, or commitment to democratic norms like elections—exposes the malleability of the terrorism designation when it becomes inconvenient for geopolitical strategy... read more >>

Russia's non-diplomatic response to Ukraine's threat to target world leaders attending Victory Day: our Army doesn’t engage in terrorism like yours

Russia's non-diplomatic response to Ukraine's threat to target world leaders attending Victory Day: our Army doesn’t engage in terrorism like yours

    Saturday, May 10, 2025   No comments

Dmitry Medvedev, the former President and Prime Minister of Russia and current Deputy Chairman of the Security Council, made a public statement in response to Ukrainian officials who reportedly said that Ukraine could not guarantee the safety of foreign leaders visiting Moscow for the Victory Day celebrations.

In his statement, Medvedev used non-diplomatic language aimed at what appears to be Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, referencing drug use and calling him a "typhus-carrying louse." He questioned what Zelenskyy would do if Russia stated it could no longer guarantee the safety of European leaders visiting Kyiv. Medvedev also claimed that the Russian army does not engage in terrorism, in contrast to what he described as "Banderite bastards," referring to Ukrainian nationalists. He ended the message by referencing comments made about the Victory Day parade in Moscow.

Russia's foreign PM, President, and now head of the security systems in Russia, Dmitry Medvedev:

"What would the typhus-carrying louse with a coke-dusted nose do if he were told that our country can no longer “guarantee the safety” of the European leaders who arrived in Kiev today?  Chill out, rat! Unlike the Banderite bastards, our Army doesn’t engage in terrorism. Just remember today, you degenerate, all the crap you said about the Victory Parade in Moscow."

Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Terrorism, and the West

Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Terrorism, and the West

    Friday, April 25, 2025   No comments

Journalist prefaced her question to Pakistani official by stating that Pakistan has a lonh g history of supporting terrorism. In response, the Pakistani Minister of Defense replied:

"We have been doing this dirty work for the United States and the West — including Britain — for about three decades."

He is referencing Pakistan's role in training the "mujahideen" of Afghanistan to fight the Soviet Union, who later, under al-Qaeda leadership, one of the Mujahideen groups, attacked US on 9/11, and that started the war on terror, which Pakistan joined again, under the request of the West. 

The crisis in Kashmir has been just one element that created the alliance between Saudi Arabia, United States, and Pakistan to "radicalize", which means, to wahhabitize Muslims, to fight the "good" war against the Soviet Union, and Pakistan hoped that it can use them to control all of Kashmir, too. It turned out that using religion for political gains did not work well for all three partners in the long run.