Shynu Database

Tag: Geopolitics

  • Iran’s reckoning, world’s calculations

    Iran’s reckoning, world’s calculations

    This article has been published with: Iran’s reckoning, world’s calculations

    Iran is in the middle of the most serious political unrest it has seen since 1979, and it is increasingly hard to pretend that this is just another wave of protest that the system can absorb. Across Tehran, Shiraz and dozens of other cities, crowds that once protested economics are now openly challenging the Supreme leader and the ideological foundations of the theocratic state.

    The Iranian government’s response has been brutal. Mass arrests, live ammunition, nationwide internet shutdowns and reports of death sentences are part of a crackdown that human rights groups say has killed thousands and detained tens of thousands more.

    It is repression that only highlights a deeper fracture, between a sovereign that fears dissent and a society that feels unheard.

    But Iran’s crisis is no longer contained within its borders. The world is watching and calculating.

    The United States and Israel are watching Iran’s instability as a strategic opening. President Donald Trump’s talk of ‘regime change’ and warnings of military intervention may play well domestically, but they are reckless in this context. They risk turning a domestic political reckoning into an international confrontation and handing Iranian hardliners the narrative they depend on: the nation is under siege and dissent equals betrayal.

    This does not protect protesters, it exposes them.

    Trump slapping a 25 per cent tariff on countries trading with Iran signals pressure not just on Tehran but on the global partners that sustain its economy. That move drew swift criticism from China, which threatened retaliatory measures, picturing how Iran’s fate is entangled with broader Sino-American rivalry.

    Within the US itself, calls for harsher action are emerging from influential quarters. Some US lawmakers have urged expansive military and cyber responses, framing Tehran’s crackdown as a threat to world order.

    Israeli officials have spoken in support of the protests, calling them a fight for freedom. But their interest is also strategic. For Israel, unrest in Iran weakens a major regional rival. Comments from Israeli intelligence officials about activity inside Iran suggest the protests are being seen as an opportunity, not just a moral cause.

    But Iran’s warnings to the US and Israel reflect this fear. Tehran knows that foreign involvement would change the nature of the crisis. A domestic protest movement would quickly turn into an international conflict. That shift would serve outside powers far more than it would help the people protesting on the streets.

    Other global players are no less invested, even if they are quieter.

    Both Russia and China have little interest in regime change and particularly in stability that weakens Western influence. For them, Iran is a strategic partner in energy, arms and diplomacy and also a useful counterweight to US power. They are likely to back the regime diplomatically, even as it bleeds legitimacy at home.

    Europe has denounced Iran’s violent crackdown. The United Kingdom has pledged expanded sanctions on Tehran’s financial, energy and transport sectors in response to killings and arrests. Yet, for European leaders, disruption in Iran could exacerbate migration pressures, threaten energy supply dynamics and deepen geopolitical rivalry with Russia.

    India’s stance has been quite cautious. The Ministry of External Affairs has urged Indian nationals to avoid travel to Iran and has informed that New Delhi is monitoring developments closely, but it has stopped short of overt criticism or strong support. That reflects India’s position as an energy partner and user of Iranian trade routes, particularly through Chabahar port.

    Delhi’s priority is stability that secures energy and connectivity, not instability that threatens supply chains or regional security.

    Iran’s unrest is not happening in a vacuum. Every major external actor is making moves shaped by strategic interests, not solidarity. What emerges is a familiar pattern. Iran’s internal crisis is being absorbed into the calculations of others.

    Even the memory of “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests remains fresh. That movement exposed both the depth of public anger and the limits of repression. The current unrest builds on that unfinished crisis. It is broader, more openly political and less willing to accept symbolic concessions.

    Iran now faces choices with lasting consequences. A violent crackdown may impose surface order but will deepen isolation and resentment. A collapse of authority risks instability and fragmentation. Foreign intervention would almost certainly escalate the crisis beyond Iran’s borders.

    None of these outcomes are desirable. All of them are plausible. What is no longer plausible is a return to the old normal.

    A society that no longer believes it is represented cannot be governed indefinitely through fear. A state that no longer listens eventually loses control over the story it tells about itself.

    Iran’s future is being shaped in this moment, not only by what happens on its streets, but by how its rulers respond and how external powers choose to use this moment, especially Trump.

  • Why Gen Z protests are shaking the world

    Why Gen Z protests are shaking the world

    This article has been published with: Why Gen Z protests are shaking the world

    Unlike their predecessors, Gen Z is not content with gradual change. They have grown up in a digital world where progress is instantaneous and transparency is expected. Their protests are organised online, powered by memes, videos and digital solidarity. The internet is not just their stage; it is their weapon.

    For years, the world watched the protests erupted from Hong Kong to Cairo marking 2019 as the so-called “year of protest.” But in 2025, a different kind of uprising has taken shape. This time, it is much younger, sharper, and more connected.

    From Nepal to Indonesia, the Philippines to Morocco and Madagascar, a restless generation has taken to the streets, transforming frustration into defiance. Experts are calling it the wave of ‘Gen Z protests,’ and it may redefine how dissent looks in the modern age.

    The sparks that ignite these protests differ from one country to another, yet the underlying fire is the same: anger over poor governance, inequality, corruption and a future that feels increasingly out of reach. In Nepal, the outrage began with a government-imposed social media ban that was quickly reversed, but not before triggering a nationwide reckoning. For a generation raised online, the ban was not just an attack on communication but a silencing of identity and expression.

    It became the final straw in a long history of corruption, nepotism, and political failure. Prime Minister Oli’s resignation soon followed, exposing a deep disillusionment among young Nepalis who feel their democracy has been hijacked by the elite.

    In Indonesia and the Philippines, the frustration runs parallel over widening inequality, soaring youth unemployment, and an economy that no longer guarantees dignity. Many young people are working multiple low-paying jobs, watching the promise of education dissolve into a market that no longer rewards effort.

    A recent World Bank update highlights that one in seven people in China and Indonesia is unemployed, and that much of the region’s job creation has shifted from factories to unstable service work. The ladder that once lifted millions into the middle class has started to crack.

    In Morocco, protests have flared up around social justice reforms and the state of public services. The country’s youth are furious that billions of dollars are being pushed into hosting the 2030 FIFA World Cup while healthcare, education, and transport systems remain broken. To them, it is not just about sports, it is about misplaced priorities.

    The glittering stadiums are being built on the back of neglect. The government’s vision of progress feels hollow when water shortages, unemployment and social inequality persist.

    Across the Indian ocean, in Madagascar, young protesters are demanding something even more basic: electricity and clean water. The island nation faces an ironic dilemma, while political elites make grand promises of development, ordinary families continue to suffer from erratic power cuts and unreliable water supplies, often left in darkness and neglect.

    What unites these different uprisings is not just ideology, but exhaustion, a generation that feels cheated by those who claim to lead them.

    Well, it’s quite clear that this generation does not want symbolic reforms or slow-moving promises. They want results they are visible.

    Unlike their predecessors, Gen Z is not content with gradual change. They have grown up in a digital world where progress is instantaneous and transparency is expected. Their protests are organised online, powered by memes, videos and digital solidarity. The internet is not just their stage; it is their weapon.

    Every government scandal, every instance of elite privilege, every broken promise becomes public within seconds.

    Older generations often dismiss this as performative outrage, but it is much deeper than that. For Gen Z, activism is survival. They are fighting for jobs, dignity and relevance in systems that continue to exclude them. Their rebellion is not simply about demanding reforms; it is about reclaiming agency in societies that ignore them.

    In many ways Gen Z protests of 2025 are not just reactions to crisis; they are reflections of a larger global fatigue. The world has been living through years of economic uncertainty, climate anxiety and political stagnation. For young people who have inherited these challenges, protest is not a choice it has become a necessity.

    What is happening in these parts of the world is not chaos, it is clarity. These protests reveal a generation that refuses to wait, one that demands accountability now, not later.

    Governments can either listen or continue to pretend that stability is the same as peace. But the truth is clear: this generation is no longer asking for permission to change the world, it is already doing it.

  • India’s role in the new Gaza peace

    India’s role in the new Gaza peace

    The article has been published with: As the first phase of US president Donald Trump’s 20-point peace plan for Gaza gains traction, with both Hamas and Israel cautiously signing onto its initial framework, a new moment of reckoning arises not just for the region but for India, whose interests and ideals converge at the heart of Gaza’s fragile peace.

    As the first phase of US president Donald Trump’s 20-point peace plan for Gaza gains traction, with both Hamas and Israel cautiously signing onto its initial framework, a new moment of reckoning arises not just for the region but for India, whose interests and ideals converge at the heart of Gaza’s fragile peace.

    The plan, which emphasises large-scale international investment in water, energy, health, and infrastructure, has drawn careful support from the European Union and several Arab states, including Egypt, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE.

    While many remain concerned over the absence of a clear timeline for Israel’s withdrawal, the momentum itself is significant. Prime Minister Modi welcomed the plan as “decisive progress” and a “significant step forward,” signaling India’s willingness to see stability return to Gaza after years of destruction and despair.

    For India, peace in Gaza is not an abstract moral issue but a question deeply linked to its historical diplomacy, energy security, and regional aspirations. New Delhi’s engagement with the Palestinian question predates its own independence.

    In 1947, Jawaharlal Nehru ensured India’s participation in the UN Special Committee on Palestine, where India defied the Western bloc to support a single federal state with Arab and Jewish provinces, a stance consistent with its postcolonial belief in coexistence and self-determination.

    In the following decades, India extended sustained financial support to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) and contributed troops to successive UN peacekeeping missions, including the UN Emergency Force in the Suez and Sinai, where Indian soldiers even lost their lives during the 1967 Arab-Israeli conflict.

    India’s solidarity with the Palestinian cause has never been merely symbolic. In 1988, it became one of the first non-Arab nations to recognise the State of Palestine, a step that many Western democracies only began contemplating decades later. Yet, the early 1990s marked a recalibration. When India established full diplomatic relations with Israel in 1992, it was not a repudiation of its commitment to Palestine but a response to the changing geopolitical order.

    The Madrid Peace Conference has brought new players to the table, and India, wary of being excluded from the evolving peace process, adjusted its strategy to engage with both sides. Since then, India has attended donor conferences, participated in UN committees on Palestinian rights, and provided development assistance and technical training to the Palestinian Authority (PA), while simultaneously building robust defence, agricultural, and technology partnerships with Israel.

    This dual approach, combining principled support for Palestinian sovereignty with pragmatic engagement with Israel, has been the defining feature of India’s Middle East policy for over three decades.

    India has repeatedly condemned terrorism in all its forms, including attacks on Israeli civilians, while also expressing concern when Israel’s military operations inflict civilian suffering in Gaza. Its response to the recent conflict, particularly after the airstrikes near Doha, was carefully worded but deliberate, reiterating the need to respect international humanitarian law and resume dialogue toward a two-state solution.

    At the heart of India’s interest in the new Gaza plan lies not just diplomacy but economics as well. With the Abraham Accords reshaping West Asia, India finds itself part of a new cooperative architecture that bridges both Israel and the Gulf.

    The India–Middle East–Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC), announced in 2023, exemplifies this shift, a project linking India’s ports to the Gulf, Israel, and onward to Europe through rail and maritime routes. Its success depends on regional stability.

    A peaceful Gaza, integrated into a broader framework of reconstruction and trade, directly serves India’s interests in securing energy supplies, ensuring uninterrupted trade flows, and maintaining safe conditions for over eight million Indians living and working in the Gulf region, whose remittances exceed $40 billion annually.

    Israel’s ambassador to India recently suggested that New Delhi should take an active role in Gaza’s reconstruction, citing India’s expertise in infrastructure, water management, and digital governance. Indian companies such as Larsen & Toubro and Tata Projects have already demonstrated their capacity to execute large-scale civil works across the Middle East.

    India’s engagement in the region would not only consolidate the nation’s image as a development partner but also reinforce its credentials as a responsible power capable of constructive mediation.

    Beyond economic calculations, India’s participation would resonate with its broader foreign policy doctrine, one that blends strategic autonomy with normative leadership. As a founding member of the Non-Aligned Movement, India has historically positioned itself as a bridge between the Global North and South.

    Today, that legacy continues through new minilateral groupings such as the I2U2 (India, Israel, UAE, United States), which promote cooperation in food, energy, and innovation. By constructively engaging in Gaza’s recovery while upholding Palestinian sovereignty, India can project itself as a moderating force that values peace without partisanship.

    However, the path ahead demands caution. Aligning too closely with the Israeli or American approach could alienate traditional Arab partners, especially those sensitive to Palestinian sovereignty.

    The challenge for India, therefore, is to sustain a credible middle course one that upholds humanitarian principles while remaining anchored in realpolitik.

    In Gaza’s fragile future, India’s role could go beyond financial assistance. Its record in peacekeeping, institution building, and capacity training makes it uniquely positioned to help restore basic governance, healthcare, and education systems.

    Indian NGOs and development agencies, working alongside UN bodies, could contribute to skill-building programmes that empower Palestinian youth and reduce dependence on aid.

    From Nehru’s moral idealism to Modi’s pragmatic outreach, India’s policy on Palestine and Israel has been marked by adaptation without abandonment. The new Gaza peace plan presents yet another test of that balance.

    Whether India chooses to remain a cautious observer or an active participant in reconstruction will reveal how it defines power in the twenty-first century.

  • London’s identity in question, are Indians at risk?                                                                      

    London’s identity in question, are Indians at risk?                                                                      

    This article has been published with: London’s identity in question, are Indians at risk?

    On a September weekend, central London became a stage of tense spectacle. A tide of Union Jacks and St George’s crosses swept through the streets, led by far-right activist Tommy Robinson under the banner of “Unite the Kingdom.” More than 1,50,000 people reportedly participating, this was one of Britain’s largest anti-immigration demonstrations in recent years.

    What transpired was more than a protest. It was a reminder that immigration has become the flashpoint of our times, capable of mobilizing crowds, unsettling governments and shaping the future of millions including the large Indian diaspora. The question many are quietly asking now is: Should Indians be worried?

    Indians are the largest non-UK ethnic group in London, numbering over 6,50,000 in Greater London. British Indians own over 65,000 businesses in the UK, contributing to roughly £60 billion annually to tits economy. Almost 1 in 10 NHS doctors in the UK is of Indian origin. Whereas, Indian students make up one of the largest international student groups in the UK, with more than 1,40,000 Indian students enrolled in British universities in 2023-24, bringing billions in tuition and local spending.

    The rally was framed as a show of patriotism, but immigration was the central grievance. Placards blared “Send them home” and “Stop the boats.” The rhetoric was unmistakably hostile towards migrants, particularly Muslims, though the undertone extended to anyone perceived as an “outsider.” Violence erupted when protestors clashed with police, injuring 26 officers.

    London’s Muslim population is around 15%, heavily concentrated in boroughs like Newham, Tower Hamlets and Brent. Far-right activists portray this concentration as a “threat to British identity.”

    Debates around halal food in schools, mosque construction or visible symbols like the hijab are exploited by right-wing groups as evidence of cultural erosion. Wars in Afghanistan, Syria and more recently the Israel-Gaza conflict have fed into anti-Muslim sentiment with Muslims abroad often conflated with Muslims at home.

    Prime Minister Keir Starmer condemned the march as divisive, insisting Britain “will not surrender its flag to those who use it as a symbol of fear.” But the event’s scale, intensity and rapid spread across social media suggested something deeper: anti-immigration sentiment is no longer fringe. It is mainstreaming.

    Economic anxieties, housing shortages and stretched public services are easy scapegoats. Security concerns, often fuelled by sensationalist reporting, add another layer. But perhaps the most significant driver is political entrepreneurship, activists like Robinson know how to weaponise frustration into mobilisation. Online misinformation then turbocharges the anger, transforming digital discontent into street protests.

    London’s rally is part of a global pattern. Just last month, tens of thousands marched in Australia under the banner of “March for Australia,” while protests over asylum housing have surged in the United States. Across Europe, demonstration in Berlin, Warsaw, and Dublin echo similar themes. Migration politics is now transnational, and Britain’s far-right plugged into these global currents.

    For Indians, the implications are complicated. On the one hand, the Indian diaspora in the UK is one of the country’s most successful immigrant communities being economically stable, politically active and culturally visible. But success does not immunise against xenophobia.

    History has shown how quickly minorities can become collateral damage when anti-immigration rhetoric boils over.

    Indians may not be specific targets of Robinson’s campaign, but visibility itself is enough. Past attacks on Indian students in Australia and racist assaults on South Asian workers in the UK illustrates how quickly resentment can translate into violence.

    Beyond physical safety, social climate matters as well. Discrimination in jobs, housing, or even public spaces can intensify during such surges. For young students and workers without strong community support, this can be isolating.

    India has often had to step in when its nationals abroad face hostility. Advisories, consular interventions and public outcry in India can strain ties with the host nations.

    It is not alarmist to say that Indians should be cautious. But caution must not turn into a constant fear. After all, Britain is also a place where Indian-origin leaders hold office, where Bollywood films run in packed theatres and where Indian businesses thrive. Even its official national dish, chicken tikka masala, has Indian roots, a reminder of how deeply the community has shaped British life.

    The chants of “we want our country back” are not just about border control, they reflect an identity crisis in Western democracies struggling to balance globalisation with local anxieties. For Britain, this identity debate is especially charged post-Brexit. The promise of taking back control of borders was a defining feature of the Leave campaign, yet migration numbers remain high due to labour shortages.

    Far-right figures are now exploiting this perceived “failure” to whip up anger.

    Well, Indian in the UK and elsewhere should respond with awareness rather than fear by staying alert to their surroundings, keeping close to community networks and recognising when immigration becomes a political flashpoint. For students and young professionals, this means being prepared for shifts in visa rules or public mood that can arise during election seasons.

    At the same time, India’s diplomatic role will grow in importance. Protecting its citizens abroad must remain central to its foreign policy.

    Anti-immigration marches may chant “send them home,” but the truth is Indians have already made Britain their home. From students to entrepreneurs, they contribute to the economy, culture and public life. As long as they remain as asset, not a threat, to the society they live in they should not be worried, though they must remain watchful of shifting political winds.

  • Nepal’s double uprising: Revolt and exodus

    Nepal’s double uprising: Revolt and exodus

    This article has been published with Nepal’s double uprising: Revolt and exodus

    Nepal is today at an inflection point. The Himalayan republic, long accustomed to political instability has rarely faced a moment this stark: the biggest youth revolt in its history colliding with the largest exodus of its people abroad. The first is noisy, combustible and impossible to ignore. The second is quieter, but no less devastating. Both are rebellions, different in form but identical in essence, against a state that has failed to deliver.

    The eruption of protests last month, triggered by a government ban on 26 social media platforms, was unlike anything Nepal has seen in decades. What began as an outrage over digital censorship spiralled into a generational uprising. Demonstrations spread across all 77 district capitals, claiming at least 19 lives in Kathmandu alone.

    Parliament and power centres burned, five former Prime Minister’s residences were vandalised, and Rajyalaxmi Chitrakar, wife of former PM Jhala Nath Khanal, died from severe burns after her house was torched. While Finance Minister Dhakal was stripped and paraded in public; Foreign Minister Deuba sustained injuries.

    This was not the palace intrigue of the past, nor the elite factional battles Nepalis have grown weary of. This was something more, a mass demand for accountable governance, credible constitutional reform and institutions that inspire trust. For Nepal’s Gen Z, the ban on TikTok or WhatsApp was merely the spark. The fire has been smouldering for years, fuelled by corruption, inequality and the absence of dignified work opportunities.

    A day after police opened fire on young demonstrators, Kathmandu was engulfed in flames. Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli resigned, and President Ram Chandra Paudel went into hiding under army protection.

    The ban on social media was hastily lifted, but the damage was already done. The youth of Nepal had issued their verdict: The system is broken and patience has run out.

    Yet, if the protest is a loud rebellion, migration is the quite one, perhaps even more telling. More than 4,00,000 Nepalis leave each year, an average of 10,000 departures a day. They hollow out the very demographic that should be building Nepal’s future, sustaining their families and the economy through remittances while abandoning the political order they no longer believe in.

    The absent, in effect, are financing a system they refuge to inhabit. World Bank report underlines this paradox—82 per cent of Nepal’s workforce remains trapped in informal employment, far above global and regional averages. For many, leaving is less of a choice than an act of survival.

    Nepal’s politics have long been a theatre of instability. Fourteen governments since 2008; none completing a full term. The Maoist insurgency of 1996 claimed 17,000 lives in its attempt to overthrow the monarchy. The 2008 abolition of the royal order was supposed to herald a people’s republic. The 2015 constitution was hailed as a landmark. And yet, KP Sharma Oli, a nationalist, populist, survivor, cycled in and out of office four times between 2015 and 2024 only to fall once again in 2025.

    The pattern is depressingly familiar, tactical manoeuvring among three dominant parties, the Nepali Congress, CPN-UML and the Maoist Centre at the expense of structural reform.

    Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda) continues his balancing act. Sher Bahadur Deuba struggles for relevance. Meanwhile, power circulates among the same aging elites, their children flaunting privilege on social media while ordinary citizens struggle with unemployment, rising costs, and climate vulnerability. The gap between rulers and ruled has become unbridgeable.

    For Gen Z, who have grown up on promises of democracy but experiences little of its substance, this political theatre has lost all legitimacy. “Nepobabies” trend online as shorthand for the dynastic impunity of Nepal’s political class. What matters to them is not ideology but the lived reality of jobs, dignity and opportunity, all of which are in short supply.

    This convergence of revolt and exodus is existential. A country that loses its youth either to martyrdom in the streets or to migration risks eroding its national security.

    The government’s use of excessive force did not just provoke fury; it confirmed suspicions that the system is corrupt, stagnant and unwilling to listen. The resignation of Oli only deepens the vacuum, inviting shifting alliances that promise more of the same paralysis.

    And here lies the danger, rebellion without reform hardens despair. If the protests fizzle into yet another cycle of unstable governments, while the exodus continues unabated, Nepal risks hollowing itself out.

    For India, Nepal’s turbulence is not a distant spectacle but a pressing concern. The movement of people and ideas across the border are too close to break. Instability in Nepal inevitably spills into Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Sikkim and Uttarakhand. A large-scale exodus would intensify pressure that India is already struggling with, such as employment shortages, social friction and migration management.

    The fall of Oli bears uncomfortable parallels with Bangladesh last year, where the collapse of the Sheikh Hasina government left spaces for anti-India narratives to flourish. If New Delhi mishandles its engagement with Kathmandu, it risks a similar backlash. The stakes are stark, a neighbour either renewed or unravelled.

    India cannot dictate Nepal’s fate. But it can choose to engage wisely. That means listening not just to Kathmandu’s elites but to Nepal’s youth, who are demanding accountability, opportunity and dignity. It means demonstrating through aid, trade and people-to-people ties, that India hears Nepal’s young voices rather than ignoring them. And it means resisting the temptation to back shifting political alliances without regard for their democratic legitimacy.

    For Nepal, the way forward requires more than cosmetic changes. The constitution of 2015 must be reinvigorated with credible reforms that strengthen institutions and protect rights. Parties must rise above tactical rivalry and commit to structural transformation such as education reform, job creation, curbing corruption and making government transparent.

    For India, the imperative is to support Nepal’s democratic renewal, not its decay. This is not merely about geopolitics or China’s growing footprint in South Asia. It is about the recognition that when a Neighbour’s youth cry out in the streets or by leaving, it is a cry that reverberates across borders.

    Nepal today stands at a crossroads. If its leaders keep fighting among themselves while the youth either protest on the streets or leave the country, Nepal risks becoming a republic without a future. But if both the loud revolt and the quiet rebellion are taken seriously, the country still has a chance to rebuild itself.

    For India, the choice is just as clear, it can either watch a neighbour fall apart or engage in a way that gives Nepal’s youth a hope.

    The stakes are bigger than Nepal alone. Its repercussions will affect the neighbours too and they must act very carefully.