Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Julian Assange and Arnon Milchan: The Lopsided Scales of American Justice

One has boasted of espionage. The other revealed massive government wrongdoing. So why is the whistleblower in jail?
THE NATION

A sculpture called “Anything to Say,” which features life-sized bronze figures of whistleblowers (left-right) Edward Snowden, Julian Assange, and Chelsea Manning, is unveiled at Parliament Square, London, during a protest for Assange’s release from prison. (Press Association via AP Images)

The lopsided scales of the American justice system were on vivid display in England last weekend. In London’s His Majesty’s Prison Belmarsh—a fortress-like maximum security prison encircled by 18-foot water-stained concrete walls, balls of shinny razor wire and a dozen menacing guard towers—inmate A9397AY, otherwise known as Julian Assange, was into his fifth year of confinement. His accommodations consist of a plastic chair, a metal bed, and a steel toilet. That is where, for over four years, he has fought extradition to the United States on charges of espionage and computer intrusion in connection with the publication of hundreds of thousands of documents about the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Last Saturday, a crowd of supporters and campaigners marched through central London calling for Assange’s freedom. “It is now or never,” the inmate’s wife, Stella Assange, told the audience in Parliament Square. “Julian could be a few weeks away from extradition. We don’t have a clear timeline, but this really is the end game.”

Nearby was a life-size bronze-colored statue of Assange flanked by statues of whistleblowers Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning. Each was standing on their own individual chair, and in front read a banner: “Free Julian Assange. Journalism is not a crime.” Adjacent to them was an empty chair representing the general population and inviting them to stand alongside the trio.

That same weekend, 53 miles to the south in the seaside resort city of Brighton, another side of the American justice system could be seen in the Old Ship Hotel, a historic Georgian four-star establishment overlooking Brighton’s famous beach. Climbing the creaky wooden stairs to a conference hall was Arnon Milchan, who not only admitted to spending years committing espionage in the United States, including recruiting spies and smuggling out nearly 1,000 highly sensitive krytrons—triggers for nuclear bombs—but even boasted about it. Yet he was never indicted or even allowed to be questioned by the FBI. Unlike Assange, Milchan, who lived in Malibu, was a multibillionaire Hollywood producer with many friends in very high places. From the comfort of that old hotel, he was about to testify against one of those old friends, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. According to prosecutors, Milchan’s testimony about hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of gifts to Netanyahu for political favors in the US could send the prime minister to prison for years.

Born in Israel, Milchan began working for his country’s nuclear spy agency, LAKAM, in his 20s. That was a time when one of Israel’s closest allies was the racist apartheid government of South Africa, and Milchan’s job was to secretly become the major arms dealer between the two countries. For years, many of the weapons provided by Milchan were used by the white supremacist government to violently suppress the country’s segregated Black population. And because South Africa was attempting to develop nuclear weapons, Milchan even took part in delivering a critical nuclear component to the apartheid government: tritium.

Later, Milchan secretly became a key player in the racist government’s covert effort to promote pro-apartheid propaganda around the world. That, in fact, was how he became a Hollywood producer—by attempting to spread pro-apartheid propaganda throughout the American entertainment industry. Among his early ventures was a Broadway musical, Ipi Tombi. It instantly attracted angry protests and pickets. Among the groups was the Emergency Committee to Protest the South African Production of Ipi Tombi, which included an executive from WNET (the local PBS station), the editor in chief of Essence magazine, and the president of the Black Theater Alliance. Their grievances focused on “the exploitation of blacks by South Africans” and “America’s cooperation and support of the present South African government.” The production quickly closed.

Nevertheless, the gambit worked and Milchan soon established himself in Hollywood as a film producer. It was the perfect cover for his second venture: to become Israel’s key nuclear spy and smuggler in the United States.

While overtly producing high-profile movies with stars like Robert De Niro, he covertly set up a front company, Milco, a 40-minute drive south of Los Angeles in Huntington Beach. The operation was run by his co-conspirator, Richard Kelly Smyth, an American, and used fraud to bypass restrictions on the transfer of military and nuclear weapons–related products to Israel—among them, nearly a thousand krytrons for Israel’s illegal nuclear weapons program. Eventually, the operation was detected by the FBI and Smyth was arrested. Facing 105-years in prison, he and his wife fled the country and hid out in Spain. But as a result of high-level strings pulled by Netanyahu—then Israel’s acting ambassador to Washington—a deal was reached with the Reagan administration whereby no action was taken against Milchan.

Sixteen years later, in 2001, Smyth was finally arrested and deported back to the United States. Once again facing prison, he now laid out the entire operation to FBI agents, including Milchan’s key role. Additionally, the agents still had all the incriminating documents seized during the initial raid. But as before, the FBI was prevented from moving forward with an arrest, likely for the same reason: fear of creating a political storm that might impact voting by angering the powerful pro-Israeli lobby in a future presidential election. Milchan therefore continued to live happily ever after in Malibu with a renewable 10-year visa, while making billions from his films, while his former partner rotted away in prison.

Despite Milchan’s background as a key weapons supplier and propagandist for the racist South African government, he has never suffered any blowback from the Hollywood crowd. On the contrary, he was even awarded two Oscars for Best Picture, ironically including one for 12 Years a Slave. And in addition to such hits as Pretty Woman, he has also made a number of spy films, including Mr. & Mrs. Smith, starring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. But although he would always sort of wink and smile whenever anyone asked him about his espionage background, he would never fully confirm it, except to close friends.

Until 2013, when he finally gave in to the temptation to boast about his life after he was asked by a local Israeli television program, Uvda, for an interview. He may have thought that since the program was in Hebrew and not broadcast outside the country, no one in the United States would see it and he could thus portray himself as a great Israeli hero.

The program was hosted by Ilana Dayan, a relative of Moshe Dayan, who interviewed Milchan in the US, in Israel, and on his private jet. She later said she was surprised that Milchan would admit to being a spy, thus exposing himself to criminal liability in the United States, and to his role as an arms dealer and top propagandist for the white supremacist government of South Africa.

“In retrospect, it was in there, it was in him, it was waiting to burst out,” Dayan said. “It is very evident. Two minutes before landing, all of a sudden it comes out. ‘I did it, I did it for Israel.’ ” Dayan also interviewed actor Robert De Niro, a close friend of Milchan who has appeared in many of his films. He admitted that though Milchan told him years before about his espionage and krytron smuggling operation, he never reported him. He “told me that he was an Israeli and he of course would do these things for his country,” De Niro told Dayan.

Unfortunately for Milchan, the interview on Uvda managed to catch the eye of someone in the US State Department, and suddenly his 10-year visa was pulled; the FBI may also have begun taking a second look at him. In a panic, Milchan got in touch with his old friend Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu and asked for his help. Netanyahu in turn telephoned Obama administration Secretary of State Kerry at least three times attempting to resolve the matter. At one point, Netanyahu’s special envoy, Isaac Molho, called a State Department official and said, “The prime minister wants to speak with Secretary Kerry urgently.” A few hours later, Kerry and Netanyahu connected.

But because of the request for urgency by Molho, with whom Kerry had worked closely on Israeli-Palestinian issues, Kerry assumed that Netanyahu wanted to talk to him about the peace process, then at the top of the Obama administration’s agenda. Instead, the “urgent” phone call had only to do with Milchan’s visa. At the time, Kerry couldn’t be bothered with the issue, but Netanyahu turned more aggressive, almost demanding his personal intervention.

“One day I got a phone call from abroad, it was John Kerry calling me himself,” said Hadas Klein, Milchan’s assistant in Israel. Milchan was in Malibu at the time, but soon Klein connected the two by phone. “I’ve heard a lot about you, come and meet me at the hotel,” Kerry said. Milchan said he was happy to meet with him and that the two eventually became good friends. Nevertheless, Kerry said the visa matter was now with the Department of Homeland Security—and in the end, Milchan got his extensions.

Thus, instead of an indictment and arrest warrant by the FBI for espionage and nuclear smuggling, the billionaire was granted a personal meeting with the US secretary of state, who became another of his powerful friends, as well as a visa extension. But Milchan knew that favors from Netanyahu didn’t come cheap, and that there would be a high price to pay: a high price in the form of very expensive “gifts” for Netanyahu. “Gifts” that were always demanded and not voluntarily given. “Gifts” that could go on for years as repayment. But, as he would later tell Klein, “There’s no choice.”

Ironically, although the FBI never came knocking at Milchan’s door, the Israeli police did. And to avoid his own indictment for bribery, he agreed to testify for the prosecution against his old friend the prime minister. Which is what brought him to the Old Ship Hotel last weekend. Possibly worried about arrest by both the FBI and the Israeli police, Milchan moved from Malibu to an estate in the British county of Sussex, not far from Brighton, and then claimed he was too sick to travel to Israel. Thus, Israeli officials arranged for a live broadcast of his testimony from a conference hall at the hotel to a courtroom in Jerusalem—testimony that is expected to continue over the next two weeks.

In a just world, the roles would be reversed, with Milchan extradited from England and sitting in a dank American jail cell and Assange freed from Belmarsh and relaxing in a beachside hotel in Brighton. Instead, we live in a world where billionaire spies and racist propagandists with powerful movie star friends and high-level connections receive accolades from Hollywood and favors from the US government. And courageous whistleblowers and journalists like Julian Assange go to prison.
Putin says Wagner chief got some $2B from state over past year

Russian president says state paid salaries to Wagner mercenaries while its head Prigozhin was making profit from state orders

Elena Teslova |27.06.2023 


MOSCOW

Russian President Vladimir Putin said on Tuesday the head of the Wagner paramilitary group got some $2 billion from the state over the past year.

Speaking with the servicemen at a meeting in the Kremlin, Putin said the Wagner was financed through the Defense Ministry, which transferred in May 2022-May 2023 some 86 billion rubles ($1.1 billion) for the salaries of mercenaries.

At the same time, the head of the group Yevgeny Prigozhin earned over 80 billion rubles (almost $1 billion) through its company Concord, which got a state order, amounting to this sum.

"I hope that in the course of these works (implementation of the state order), no one stole anything, or, let's say, stole not so much, but, of course, we will examine everything," he noted.

The president also noted that "the opponent" is trying to profit from the attempted mutiny but fails," without making clear who he is talking about.

On June 24, Prigozhin accused the Russian Defense Ministry of attacking its fighters, declared "A March of Justice," and set off toward Moscow, saying in a statement that he was going "to overthrow military chiefs."

The Federal Security Service designated Wagner Group's actions "an armed rebellion" and opened a criminal case against Prigozhin, while Putin called the paramilitary private company's uprising an act of "treason."

Prigozhin and his fighters later decided to turn back "to avoid bloodshed" when they were 200 kilometers (124 miles) from Moscow.

Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko said he contributed to the settlement by holding talks with the Wagner’s head, which led to Prigozhin's decision to accept a de-escalation deal.
For Anthropology, decolonizing knowledge means supporting the academic boycott of Israel

The Palestinian call for BDS is a challenge to colonial infrastructures of knowledge and an invitation to help remake them.
PALESTINIANS INSPECT A HOUSE SET ON FIRE BY ISRAELI SETTLERS IN THE PALESTINIAN VILLAGE OF TURMUS AYA, NEAR RAMALLAH, JUNE 21, 2023. 
(PHOTO: MOHAMMED NASSER/APA IMAGES)

It is a week since the vote in the American Anthropological Association membership to boycott Israeli institutions went live. What happened during that week? Sedil Naghniyeh, a fifteen-year-old from Jenin, died on Wednesday of a gunshot wound to her head. Israeli soldiers shot her on Monday, June 19, while she was standing in her front yard. Six others died and tens were wounded during that same attack on Jenin. On that day, hundreds of Israeli Jewish settlers descended on the Palestinian village of Turmus Ayya, just north of Ramallah. As per a Ha’aretz editorial, the scene is familiar: “cars are torched, windows are smashed, flames rise from among the houses…police and army let the attacks happen, as they have for decades.” In the West Bank town of Urif, meanwhile, settlers torched homes and a mosque and set a school ablaze.

This past week since the AAA vote marked a new phase of settler governance and “intensification to completely take over Palestine,” in the words of journalist and Mondoweiss Senior Palestine Correspondent Mariam Barghouti. The words of Israeli minister Itamar Ben-Gvir speaking to settlers on Friday morning made this clear: “We have your backs! Run to the hills and settle! We need a military operation as well to kill dozens and hundreds and if need be thousands . . . to fulfill our great purpose . . . the land of Israel for the people of Israel.” It has become impossible to turn away our eyes.

Why should an association of American Anthropologists honor the call to boycott Israeli academic institutions until these institutions “end their complicity in violating Palestinian rights as stipulated in international law”?

Anthropology as a discipline has faced painful reckonings over the past two decades. Anthropology carries into the present inexorable and bloody traces of the past. Can the discipline be divested of its entanglements with colonialism, anti-Blackness, imperialism, and civilizational discourse? What would remain, if so? Black anthropologists and indigenous anthropologists have led the way, forging pathways for new infrastructures of knowledge-making on which anthropology can stand. Anthropologists endorsing the boycott continue this work of dismantling coloniality by standing with Palestine and the Palestinians.

I voted for the boycott measure on the first day the vote opened. I joined thousands of other anthropologists who have been branded as enemies for the simple fact that they stood up for Palestinian rights as stipulated in international law.

I voted for the boycott measure on the first day the vote opened. I joined thousands of other anthropologists who have been branded as enemies for the simple fact that they stood up for Palestinian rights as stipulated in international law.

The first time I was called an enemy of the Jewish state, I was 24 and facing interrogation by an Israeli soldier shutting down a small demonstration against the confiscation of a friend’s family’s land in Um al-Fahm. “What’s wrong with you Jews in the United States,” he spat in my face. Israeli forces had transformed the family’s agricultural field into a firing zone.

Um al-Fahm is a town inside the Green Line. The Israeli state had confiscated the town’s lands and water, allocating them to socialist kibbutzim and moshavim that young American Jews would visit on “birthright” trips. Um al-Fahm had the same number of residents as many an Israeli “town.” Israeli urban planners designated Um al-Fahm as a “village,” effectively blocking access to funding for roads, sewage lines, and adequate transportation. Anthropological notions of culture bolstered this dual structure of planning for Jews versus Arabs, who were said to need “traditional culture” rather than modern infrastructure. Residents came together to pave roads, dig plumbing lines, and to organize English classes. A few foreign volunteers like me joined the effort.

In some ways, the charge of “treason” was the continuation of a family legacy, one that complicated my American identity as a white middle-class Jew. My family has lived in Jerusalem for more than 500 years. Palestine was their home and what they called it. My grandfather was an officer in the Ottoman Army during World War I. After the war, in the 1920s, he took a job with the British Mandate Government of Palestine to construct a road from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. He refused to fire the Arab workers he employed and protested the “Hebrew labor” imperative of the Labor Zionist movement. His loyalties remained with his Palestinian family, neighbors, friends, and colleagues. Four decades later, his cousin faced charges of treason. After the 1967 War and Israel’s occupation of East Jerusalem, the West Bank, and Gaza Strip, he spoke out for immediate negotiations with the PLO and the establishment of a Palestinian state.

In other ways, my experience in Um al-Fahm marked a rupture in familial legacies. My family has also been involved in establishing and supporting institutions of learning in Palestine and Israel for decades. They became Zionists in the 1930s and Israelis after 1948. During my twenties, I worked with social scientists researching relations between a state defined as Jewish and all of the people—citizens and non-citizens—living in historic Palestine. These researchers violated basic tenets of Israeli social science that erased Palestinians from land rendered empty and studied society as if it were Jewish only. State forces deemed research projects and public opinion polls that challenged this social science infrastructure a security threat. Security police shut down Najwa Makhoul’s research and ability to publish, even though she was a citizen of Israel, by invoking colonial emergency laws dating to the British Mandate. Infrastructures of social science research, my friends’ work made clear (and as anthropologists well know), are political. It was my first confrontation with Anthropology as a discipline and as a mechanism of erasure.

Anthropologists know how colonizers used the doctrine of terra nullius to declare land available for settlement in multiple places around the world. We know the violence against Indigenous peoples contained in this rendering. And we know how to critique it. We use concepts such as colonialism and settler colonialism to describe processes that involve infrastructures of knowledge-making as well as military force. We know that such infrastructures are difficult to shift, that they include ways of knowing and thinking as well as stolen land and riches. Once again, infrastructures of knowledge-making are political.

Ideologies are falling all around us. Few of the students in our classrooms believe in the American dream, that the future will be better, or that the world they inherit will be livable for the majority of humans and non-humans alike. From Black studies and our Black colleagues, we have learned methodologies of abolition and speculative futures, attending to world-making that is cultivated and flourishes in the midst of catastrophe. From our Indigenous colleagues, we have learned practices and methods of relationality and tending to the Earth that anthropologists have been complicit in destroying and appropriating.

From our Palestinian colleagues, we have learned to hold ground and confront coloniality. They challenge us to confront practices of violent erasure and to break uneasy silences about difficult issues in our own times. In a time of “generalized catastrophe,” they inspire us to find new ways to “hold ground, persist, and subsist on an earth giving way to mudslides, fires, floods, and drought.” We are likewise inspired by the determination of our sister organization of Palestinian anthropologists, Insaniyyat, to push back against infrastructures of colonial knowledge production and to carry out their anthropological research, often at immense personal cost.

The call for BDS is a challenge to colonial knowledge infrastructures. It illuminates the contradictions inherent in a state claiming legitimacy as both a Jewish state and a democratic state. Palestinians have invited us to help remake infrastructures of knowledge-making. This challenge is central to our work as anthropologists and to our professed aspirations to move past colonial social science.

As anthropologists, we know how the accidental encounter with an interlocutor or a colleague can remake how we see the world. This is essential to our work as ethnographers. We must move past insight and sometimes-luminous writing about decolonization to confront and remake colonial infrastructures of knowledge-making in our own times. The vote before us invites us to do just that. It is time.

Julia Elyachar

Julia Elyachar is Associate Professor of Anthropology and the Princeton Institute of International and Regional Studies at Princeton University. She is the author of Markets of Dispossession: NGOs, Economic Development, and the State in CairoArchives of the Semi-Civilized: Coloniality and Commons in Cairo; and The Floating Factory: Commerce, Colonization, and Capitalism from the Age of Exploration to the Age of Amazon.

New report outlines how Golda Meir’s Israel poisoned Palestinian land in ethnic cleansing operation

In the early 1970s, Golda Meir's government poisoned the lands of Aqraba in the West Bank to force out its Palestinian inhabitants and clear the way for an illegal Jewish settlement.

BY JONATHAN OFIR 
GOLDA MEIR, THEN ISRAEL’S MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS, IN 1964.
 (PHOTO: WIKIMEDIA/ISRAELI NATIONAL ARCHIVE)

Classical Israel apologia portrays the country as a liberal democracy forced to defend itself against hostile Palestinians as its liberal founders held back radical right-wing Zionists who agitated for more aggressive expansion and settlement.

A new bombshell article in Haaretz blows this narrative out of the water.


The article, “Israel Poisoned Palestinian Land to Build West Bank Settlement in 1970s, Documents Reveal,” by Ofer Aderet, tells the story of the dispossession of the Palestinian village of Aqraba, about three miles from Huwwara in the northern West Bank. Aqraba’s lands were coveted for the purpose of establishing a new Jewish settlement, Gitit. In the end, 83% of the lands of Aqraba, then a village of 4,000 people, were confiscated by Israel, reducing them from 145,000 dunams (36,000 acres) to 25,000 dunams (6,000 acres).

Here is how the Israelis did it:

‘The first step was dispossessing residents of the nearby Palestinian village of their land under the false pretext of making it a military training zone. When the Palestinians insisted on cultivating the land, Israeli soldiers sabotaged their tools. Soldiers were later ordered to use vehicles to destroy the crops. A radical solution was employed when this failed: a crop duster spread a toxic chemical. The substance was lethal for animals and dangerous for humans.’

The poisoning of the crops was not a vigilante act. It was carefully planned and did not only involve military actors, but it also involved the parastatal Jewish Agency:

‘A discussion held at [the army’s] Central Command [in April 1972] with the participation of officers, a representative of the settlements department at the Jewish Agency, and the Custodian of Absentee Property was titled “Spraying the irregular areas in the Tel-Tal sector.” Tel-Tal eventually became Gitit… According to the document, the purpose of the meeting was to establish “responsibility and schedule for the spraying.” It also stated that for three days after the spraying, no one was to enter the area “for fear of stomach poisoning.” Animals, the document said, were not allowed to enter for an additional week… Another meeting was held later that month. “There is no objection from this command to carrying out the spraying as planned,” read the minutes. “The Custodian of Absentee Property will see to it that the area’s borders are marked accurately and will direct the plane accordingly.”’

This was Israel under Prime Minister Golda Meir. Not Netanyahu, not Itamar Ben-Gvir, not Bezalel Smotrich – liberal icon Golda Meir.

Did this poisoning operation get much attention? Aderet notes “the story briefly made headlines in 1972 when it was reported in foreign media.” Alas, “it didn’t prevent the establishment of the settlement of Gitit on land confiscated from residents of the village of Aqraba, which the military had poisoned.”

This episode in the ethnic cleansing of Palestine is just one item revealed in a new project by the Taub Center for Israel Studies at New York University, called the Jewish Settlements Archival Project.

The researchers are not at all political activists, as one might think. In fact, Aderet notes that “the researchers were mostly residents of current or past settlements.” The historian Ronald W. Zweig, the outgoing head of the Taub Center, is cited:

“Reviewing the material enables us to better realize that this huge national enterprise is the result of the initiative taken by Israeli governments for generations. Not only right-wing governments, but all of them.” However, Zweig stressed, “We don’t promote any agenda, but only the research”.

Whether or not the researchers have a political agenda, it is clear that Golda Meir’s government had a voraciously expansive agenda. But Meir knew that one had to watch out not to shout too loudly about it to protect Israel’s reputation and image. The article cites minutes of a January 19, 1971 cabinet meeting under the title of “Statements and announcements regarding settlements and outposts.” In it, Prime Minister Meir made a special request to the ministers:

“Before we move forward with our discussion, there’s something I’d like to ask. It was our habit that for anything that has to do with settlements, outposts, land expropriations and so on, we simply do and do not talk [about it]… Lately, this line [of understanding] has broken down, and I’m asking the ministers for the sake of our homeland to hold back, talk less, and do as much as possible. But the main thing, as much as possible, is to talk less… We were not used to ministers appearing in settlements in a ceremony with the press and so on. I ask that it be the same in the future”.

So this was the essential difference between left and right Zionist leaders – how they talk. When Jewish supremacist Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich called to “wipe out Huwwara” four months ago, inciting a pogrom, it was a PR problem for Israel because it was very explicit. But when most of Aqraba’s land was destroyed with poison, it passed almost unnoticed. And Golda Meir made sure that people representing Israel would not broadcast it because that might harm the settlement venture. The important thing was to “do as much as possible” – create “facts on the ground” using just about any means necessary, and get away with it looking like a liberal.
Don’t judge us ‘by what we do,’ Israel’s president tells Americans

"In some places we are judged wrongly by what we do and how strategic we are." Israel's president Isaac Herzog tells American Jews to fight those "judgmental attitudes" and preserve "our only Jewish state in the world."
ISAAC HERZOG SPEAKING TO THE AMERICAN JEWISH COMMITTEE GLOBAL FORUM, JUNE 11, 2023. SCREENSHOT FROM AJC VIDEO.

“In some places we are judged wrongly by what we do,” Isaac Herzog, the president of Israel, says of American public opinion.

Herzog made the statement in an interview with Ted Deutch, the head of the American Jewish Committee, two weeks ago (but it was published on Friday).

At an AJC forum in Tel Aviv, Deutch asked Herzog what American Jewish advocates for Israel should do “to strengthen the relationship between the diaspora [American Jewry] and Israel.”

“You have a huge role to play,” Herzog responded. He immediately brought up the “problem” — Israel is judged unfairly in the United States. Americans need to see what Israel is up against, surrounded by enemies who foment antisemitism.

I would say first that I believe part of the problem is a lack of understanding of what Israel is all about. There’s a judgmental attitude in certain spheres of American public life, in certain quarters, that judges us according to certain scales that is not always realistic, in terms of where we live and what we do.

We are a small nation which is truly challenged by a huge enemy, which works day in, day out, to undermine us, to kill our citizens, deploy terror against us, surround us from all sides, and rush to the bomb and spread antisemitism and hatred.

And on the other hand, we are a nation that is extremely zestful, successful, reaching incredible heights in so many incredible fields that you know….

All I’m saying is that in some places we are judged wrongly by what we do and how strategic we are. And I think you have an immense role to play in telling the story of Israeli democracy, diversity, achievements. We can of course deal with the faults and mistakes. Like any nation– I’ve got news for you– all nations are challenged and simmering and debating, especially in the modern era.

And of course they need to protect and preserve our only Jewish state in the world.

Herzog’s theme is a variation on the We-live-in-a-bad-neighborhood idea promoted by Tom Friedman. Though the enemies now go on forever; and now they’re judging Israel in the U.S.

The latest Gallup poll shows that Democrats have more sympathy for Palestinians than Israel by 49 to 38– a stark reversal of attitudes just a few years ago. The shift is surely due to Israel’s own conduct.

But talk about blindness: neither Herzog nor Deutch mentioned Palestinians once in that quarter-hour discussion.

Herzog also seems to be saying that American Jews are now judging Israel for what it does. And he’s right. Polling in 2021 showed that 25 percent of American Jews think Israel practices apartheid, and the attitudes are far stronger among the young — one in five saying Israel has no “right to exist” as a Jewish state. So those Jews are not interested in protecting and preserving “our only Jewish state in the world.” And that was three years ago. It has gotten worse for Israel since.
ADL CEO Jonathan Greenblatt says it’s antisemitic when people tweet ‘Free Palestine’ at him

During a panel at the Aspen Ideas Festival Anti-Defamation League CEO Jonathan Greenblatt said it's antisemitic when people tweet "Free Palestine" at him.
ADL CEO & NATIONAL DIRECTOR JONATHAN GREENBLATT ADDRESSING THE ADL’S VIRTUAL NATIONAL LEADERSHIP SUMMIT ON MAY 1 2022

This week Anti-Defamation League (ADL) CEO Jonathan Greenblatt said it’s antisemitic for people to tweet “Free Palestine” at him. The comments were first reported by Marc Rod at the Jewish Insider.

Greenblatt made the remarks at the annual Aspen Ideas Festival during a panel on free speech in social media. “When I tweet about the weather, or when I tweet about my mom, or in a tweet about anything, the vitriol directed at me from right-wing extremists and radical white supremacists and QAnon enthusiasts, and radical people on the left who say ‘free Palestine’ to me, is really stunning,” he told attendees. “And it is indicative of the deep dysfunction in these platforms.”

Greenblatt’s assertion was challenged by Meta’s Vice President of Civil Rights and Deputy General Counsel Roy Austin, who was also on the panel. “I don’t want to debate that issue, but the point is that people are going to disagree,” Austin explained.

“Saying ‘free Palestine’ to a Jewish person out of context is antisemitism, plain and simple,” responded Greenblatt.

The ADL is consistently cited by the mainstream media as an apolitical civil rights organization, but in recent years a grassroots movement highlighting the groups support for anti-Palestinian racism, racist policing, colonialism, and policies of surveillance has emerged. In 2020 the ‘Drop the ADL’ movement published a primer detailing its history. A coalition of civil society groups also published an open-letter calling on activists to sever ties with the ADL.

“We are deeply concerned that the ADL’s credibility in some social justice movements and communities is precisely what allows it to undermine the rights of marginalized communities, shielding it from criticism and accountability while boosting its legitimacy and resources,” it reads. “Even when it may seem that our work is benefiting from access to some resources or participation from the ADL, given the destructive role that it too often plays in undermining struggles for justice, we believe that we cannot collaborate with the ADL without betraying our movements.”

“We’re in conversation with educators and communities of color across the country and they’re naming the ADL as a primary force in attacking and undermining their ethnic studies work. You also have their recent efforts to suppress Amnesty International’s very moderate report condemning Israeli human rights violations,” Executive Director of Arab Resource & Organizing Center (AROC) Lara Kiswani told Mondoweiss in 2022. “I think the ADL can continue to talk a good game, but I would encourage people to think about what the ADL is actually doing and saying. For people on the ground doing the work and trying to advance a progressive agenda, they are the ones on the receiving end of the attacks on social justice issues.”

The ADL’s website states that anti-Zionism “isn’t always necessarily antisemitic,” but Greenblatt has consistently smeared anti-Zionists as antisemites since taking over the organization in 2014. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: anti-Zionism is antisemitism,” he told a crowd in November 2021. “Denying the right of Jews — alone among all peoples of the world — to have a homeland is antisemitism. Singling out just the Jewish state for condemnation while ignoring others, is prejudice.”

“Anti-Zionism as an ideology is rooted in rage,” he declared at the ADL’s 2022 National Leadership Summit. “It is predicated on one concept: the negation of another people, a concept as alien to the modern discourse as white supremacy. It requires a willful denial of even a superficial history of Judaism and the vast history of the Jewish people. And, when an idea is born out of such shocking intolerance, it leads to, well, shocking acts.”

 Guatemala

Seven Decades After Guatemala Coup, Bernardo Arévalo Sees a Dramatic Rise

The son of a trailblazing president will face a powerful political establishment in a runoff election.
Bernardo Arévalo in Guatemala City on June 26, 2023.Luis Acosta/AFP via Getty Images
Reading Time: 5 minutes

The son of Guatemala’s first democratically-elected president, almost 70 years after that experiment was crushed by a coup, takes up the banner of democratic change as his country again slips toward autocracy. He goes from polling at 0.7% to somehow making the runoff for president.

No, it’s not the opening to a Gabriel García Márquez novel; it’s what happened in Guatemala on Sunday. Bernardo Arévalo, the candidate of the fledgling center-left Semilla party and son of ex-president Juan José Arevalo (1945-51), came out of nowhere to finish second in a crowded first-round vote for president. No one saw it coming—not even the leaders of Semilla.

And now many Guatemalans, and the rest of the world, are asking: Who is Bernardo Arévalo, and can he actually win a runoff on August 20 despite opposition from most of the country’s political and economic elites?

To get here, Arévalo depended on context as much as his campaign: Guatemala’s electoral tribunal sidelined three popular presidential candidates, all of whom criticized government corruption. That left only opposition candidates with vanishingly low poll numbers, like Arévalo, in the race. Nearly one in six voters, fed up with Guatemala’s self-serving political system and failing state institutions, spoiled or left blank their ballots. Another 12.25% broke for Arévalo. Given a fragmented electorate, it was enough to put him into the runoff.

Arévalo will face the conservative and establishment favorite Sandra Torres, who finished first with 15.78%. To win, Semilla, a relatively young party, will have to outcompete Torres’ nationwide network of seasoned political operators. And if Guatemala’s present is anything like its past—Arévalo’s surname suggests as much—then he will face an uphill battle that will show how much, or how little, Guatemalan politics has really changed.

Popular, but not populist

Obscure outsiders who sweep up vote last-minute are becoming a dime a dozen in Latin America. Just think of Peru’s Pedro Castillo or Colombia’s Rodolfo Hernández.

Arévalo, too, is an outsider. Before entering Congress with Semilla in 2020, he had never participated in politics, building a career as a diplomat, sociologist and NGO worker instead. Given his father’s truncated political career and long post-coup exile, Arévalo did not inherit a political family dynasty. 

Arévalo senior, a schoolteacher exiled to Argentina, became Guatemala’s first democratically-elected president in 1945 after the ouster of longtime dictator Jorge Ubico by a mass citizen’s movement. He oversaw popular constitutional and social reforms that his successor, Jacobo Árbenz, continued. Árbenz also attempted a land reform, but he was overthrown by a 1954 CIA-orchestrated coup, which opened the door for decades of military rule. Arévalo senior spent decades in exile, and his son maintained a low profile after returning to Guatemala at age 15 to study.

Now, though an outsider, Arévalo is no populist, unlike Castillo or Hernández. His campaign-trail interviews are almost painfully devoid of punchy slogans. Semilla’s policy-heavy platform—entitled, “for a livable country”—gives you a sense of the scope of Arévalo’s ambitions: pragmatic, not utopian. Since first entering congress with seven representatives—a number that shrank to six after one MP was expelled for violating the party’s strict code of ethics—Semilla leaders have spent more time documenting and denouncing government corruption than churning out TikTok videos.

Even so, the election results suggest Arévalo and Semilla made inroads—not only in Guatemala City, where the party retains a middle-class base, but also among a more socioeconomically diverse set of voters in the capital’s sprawling suburbs and urban centers across the country.

Bernardo Arévalo celebrates the results of the first-round election outside the Presidential Palace in Guatemala City on June 26, 2023. Luis Acosta/AFP via Getty Images

A centrist reform agenda

Arévalo decided to enter politics, and helped found Semilla, in the wake of the 2015 mass anti-corruption protests known as the “Guatemalan spring,” which ousted ex-president Otto Pérez Molina and Vice President Roxana Baldetti from office for orchestrating a vast graft scheme (both are now serving jail time). When the next president, an outsider named Jimmy Morales, defanged anti-corruption institutions instead of strengthening them, as he had promised, Arévalo says he knew it was time to construct the “real alternative” Guatemalans lacked. In 2019, Semilla’s candidate for the presidency, ex-Attorney General Thelma Aldana, was polling in the lead—until she was disqualified by the TSE and death threats forced her to flee the country.  

Arévalo and Semilla are centrists—but in a country where politics habitually skews right, they are often described as center-left. “Semilla has a social democratic element, but its program is centrist, and it also has some center-right followers,” said Lucas Perelló, a political scientist who has spent time studying the party’s formation. Arévalo says he wants to gradually universalize existing social assistance programs to include a greater share of poor Guatemalans, reduce the cost of medicines and healthcare, and link isolated parts of the country through new infrastructure—doable tasks, given Guatemala’s exceptionally low share of debt as GDP, and necessary ones, given the country’s soaring poverty and malnutrition rates.

On security issues, another major concern for Guatemalans, Arévalo promises to increase state presence in crime hotspots, reclaim jails from gangs, and use intelligence-gathering to dismantle mafias. He says Bukele’s anti-gang strategy is not applicable to Guatemala. He is also critical of human rights abuses in Venezuela and Nicaragua and Putin’s war on Ukraine and has no stated plans to recognize China over Taiwan. Asked for a leader he admires, he named the ex-president, José Pepe Mujica, of Uruguay, where he was born during his father’s exile.

But Arévalo says his first order of business will be confronting corruption—the stumbling block in the way of all other issues. Instead of punitive justice, Arévalo emphasizes cutting pork-barrel spending from the national budget and reducing cost overruns in public works. That would generate resistance from a congress set to be controlled largely by establishment parties, where Semilla will hold 24 of 160 seats—but Arévalo says he would rather achieve a part of his agenda using executive authority rather than all of it via pacts with politicians implicated in corruption.   

The path ahead

The received wisdom in Guatemalan politics is that anyone can beat Sandra Torres in a runoff. Although she scooped up 15.7 percent of the vote on her first-round run, the ceiling on her support is low: a full 41.3 percent of Guatemalans say they would never vote for Torres, seen by many as a shapeshifting opportunist. Her biggest strength, and weakness, is that she commands a vast political machine—capable of delivering votes in her rural strongholds, but also likely to alienate many Guatemalans fed up with corrupt politics-as-usual. In 2015 and 2019, she lost runoffs to conservative competitors by large margin.

This time, dynamics could be different. Arévalo, unlike the last two candidates to challenge Torres, is not interested in cutting deals with the establishment. He’s already promised to bring in exiled anti-corruption prosecutors and judges as advisors on anti-corruption should he win office—a pledge sure to terrify many Guatemalan elites, who could swiftly align behind the more malleable Torres.

Still, elite support could be more of a liability than a boon, given widespread anti-establishment fervor. Between now and August, Arévalo’s biggest challenge will be convincing some of the one in six voters who spoiled or left blank their ballots that they should bet on him and Semilla, instead. He will also likely need to overcome a narrative by elite-owned media that he and his co-partisans are disguised communists or George Soros’ apparatchiks.

“1985… 1996… 2015,” reads Semilla’s platform, ticking off pivotal years when Guatemala established democracy, ended its internal armed conflict, and ousted a corrupt president and vice president. Now, 2023 just might shape up to be the next pivotal year in Guatemalan history.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Will Freeman, Ph.D., is a fellow for Latin America studies at the Council on Foreign Relations.
The Paris Olympics Are Developing a Familiar Stench
A recent raid shows that the Olympic corruption follies aren’t going anywhere.

DAVE ZIRIN
THE NATION

Paris officials pose in front of the Olympic rings as they celebrate the vote in Lima, Peru, awarding the 2024 Games to the French capital, in Paris, France, Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017. 
(AP Photo / Francois Mori) (AP Photo / Francois Mori)


The Olympics have long been plagued by overspending, forced displacement, militarized policing, and false promises, but organizers of the Paris Olympics promised that under their stewardship, the 2024 Games would mark a break from its sordid history. “We want the legacy to be different,” Tony Estanguet, the president of the Paris 2024 Olympics, told Time magazine a year ago.

It turns out the Paris Games might not be so different after all. On Tuesday, French financial police raided and searched the headquarters of the Paris 2024 Olympics, reportedly related to two investigations into the awarding of public contracts. This is an alarming echo of the two previous two Summer Games—Tokyo 2020 and Rio de Janeiro 2016—which were plagued by rampant corruption leading to a slew of convictions. In Paris, we appear to be witnessing Olympic Corruption 3.0—and that’s just within the last 10 years.

Olympic corruption tend to come in two stages: the bribery/vote-buying during the bid phase of the Games and then the graft that comes with the billions washing through the host country as the massive construction and security operation comes together. Paris 2024 may have avoided the former but doesn’t seem exempt from the latter. The French prosecutor’s office in charge of financial crime stated that the searches were related to potential conflicts of interest inquiries as well as potential embezzlement and favoritism. In addition to the Paris 2024 headquarters, Solideo, the public body charged with overseeing Olympic construction, was also searched by police. One investigation was reportedly opened in 2017 while the other began in 2022.

To people in Japan, this must sound hauntingly familiar. Earlier this month, oversight commissioners from the Tokyo Metropolitan Government slammed Tokyo Olympics organizers over reams of corruption allegations related to bribery and bid-rigging. More than a dozen people have been indicted on corruption charges with more already convicted on bribery charges and handed suspended sentences. In addition, former executives of Sun Arrow Inc., a stuffed-animal maker, received suspended prison terms for bribing former Tokyo Olympic organizing committee executive and advertising behemoth Dentsu head Haruyuki Takahashi. Tokyo prosecutors have indicted a number of additional companies, including Dentsu, over their own alleged bid-rigging tied to Olympic test events.

And let’s not forget that French prosecutors have also accused Haruyuki Takahashi of bribing IOC members for the votes that got Tokyo the Games in the first place. Takahashi allegedly used $8.2 million he got from the Tokyo bid committee to scrounge up IOC votes. Takahashi has only conceded that he provided modest presents—like cameras and a Seiko watch—to IOC members.

Before Tokyo, the 2016 Rio Olympics left their own stain. The former president of Brazil’s Olympic Committee, Carlos Arthur Nuzman, was sentenced in 2021 to more than 30 years in prison after being convicted on a range of charges, from corruption and criminal organization to money laundering and tax evasion. Amid the investigation by French and Brazilian prosecutors, police raided Nuzman’s posh apartment in Rio and discovered around $155,000 in cash and a key to a security box in Switzerland where they found 16 gold bars. Nuzman, a longtime Brazilian Olympic powerbroker and member of the International Olympic Committee, is still listed as an “honorary member” on the IOC’s roster, if with a “—” symbol denoting that he is “suspended.”

New York University professor Christopher Gaffney, who lived in Rio de Janeiro from 2009 to 2014 where he taught at the Universidade Federal Fluminese, told us, “The IOC is structurally unable to move past its strongman culture, of which Nuzman was a key figure. These patronage systems enable corruption to flourish, and with no checks and balances on the IOC we shouldn’t be surprised to see it happening again.”

As for Paris, the raid of the Olympic headquarters occurred on the very same day that a group of undocumented workers sued numerous construction firms responsible for building infrastructure for the Games. Laborers say that the companies forced them to work overtime and without proper contracts. What is remarkable is not that construction firms working for the Olympics are allegedly exploiting workers and that five-ring corruption is bubbling to the surface. It’s that we are learning all this before the Olympics—and we still have more than a year to go before the Games kick off in July 2024.

International Olympic Committee President Thomas Bach has claimed that the Paris Games would ring in “a new era for the Olympic Games.” Instead, beneath la superficie Parisienne, it is shaping up to be a whole lot of the same.
 



More From Dave Zirin
 is the sports editor at The Nation. He is the author of 11 books on the politics of sports. He is also the coproducer and writer of the new documentary Behind the Shield: The Power and Politics of the NFL.

Canada names November as Lebanese Heritage Month

New act of parliament aims to encourage 'Lebanese 
Canadians to promote their traditions and culture 
and share them with all

'

A Canadian flag flies in front of the Peace Tower on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Ontario. Reuters


Willy Lowry
Washington
Jun 27, 2023

Lebanese Canadians' “historic” impact on Canada will be celebrated every November, thanks to a new act of parliament.

The Lebanese Heritage Month Act, first introduced in April 2022, received unanimous support and was passed into law earlier this month.

Under the new act, Ottawa will officially recognise November as Lebanese Heritage Month.

“Parliament wishes to recognise and celebrate the historic mark that Lebanese Canadians have made and continue to make in building Canadian society,” the bill stated.

The legislation, spearheaded by Liberal MP Lena Metlege Diab of Halifax West in Nova Scotia, aims to encourage “Lebanese Canadians to promote their traditions and culture and share them with all Canadians”.

The MP, who is of Lebanese descent, praised the community's contributions to Canada in an interview last year with Global News.

“We have people in the arts, in sports, in business, in philanthropy – you name it, they’ve made a lot of contributions in so many aspects of life in this wonderful country,” she said.

Ms Diab took to Twitter to celebrate the passing of the bill.

“Deeply grateful to all my colleagues for their speeches and their support,” she said.

Canada has long been home to a sizeable Lebanese population, with communities in cities across the country.

According to the 2021 Census, more than 210,000 Canadians identified as being of Lebanese descent, making it one of the largest non-European ethnic groups in the country.

Ontario and Quebec are home to the largest communities, with many Lebanese Canadians settling in French-speaking Montreal and its surrounding suburbs.

WORKERS CAPITAL
Canada's investment in the UAE triples to $6.8bn since pandemic as ties deepen

Bilateral trade is expected to rise to a record this year, surpassing highs achieved in 2022, Canadian consul general in Dubai says



Canada's consul general in Dubai, Jean-Philippe Linteau, expects DP World to continue boosting its investments in Canadian ports. Antonie Robertson / The National


Sarmad Khan
Jun 26, 2023

Canadian investors have put C$9 billion ($6.8 billion) into UAE entities in the past two years – almost tripling the previous investment figure, Canada’s consul general in Dubai has said.

This is expected to grow further as the countries deepen trade and economic ties, the official said.

Investment into the second-largest Arab economy has climbed from C$3.1 billion in 2020, driven by the UAE’s status as one of the region’s fastest growing economic, commercial and trading hubs.

“Since the pandemic, Canadian Investment into the UAE has tripled,” Jean-Philippe Linteau told The National in an interview.

“My expectation is to continue to see it growing based on the excellent economic fundamentals and welcoming environment that the UAE offers to Canadian investors.”

Investors are looking for places that are friendly to foreign capital and the UAE certainly ranks among the top of those global centres, he said.

“There's all kinds of turbulence in the world economy and this is a haven of stability, and on that basis, I expect investments to continue to grow.”

Among major Canadian investors is pension fund Caisse de Depot et Placement du Quebec (CDPQ), which has invested $5 billion in three of DP World's UAE assets – Jebel Ali Port, the Jebel Ali Free Zone and the National Industries Park.

The Montreal-based fund is taking a 22 per cent stake in the three Dubai-based assets through a new joint venture with DP World. CDPQ will invest $2.5 billion while the remainder of the transaction will be financed by debt.

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The deal made Canada “the most important investor in Dubai in 2022”, accounting for 41 per cent of foreign direct investment inflow to the emirate, Mr Linteau said.

Brookfield Asset Management is another investor that has acquired UAE-based financial services assets as part of its Middle East expansion push.


Earlier this month, it signed an agreement to acquire payments-processing company Network International for £2.2 billion ($2.76 billion). Brookfield, which took a 60 per cent stake in First Abu Dhabi Bank’s payments business Magnati last year in a $2.76 billion deal, is combining Magnati and Network International to create the biggest payments firm in Middle East and Africa.

Mr Linteau, who is taking over as Canada’s ambassador in Saudi Arabia next month, expects the scale of investments to expand further, with growing interest from Canadian companies in UAE's sustainability, decarbonisation and energy transition sectors.

“The UAE is making a big push to decarbonise its economy to grow its non-oil industrial manufacturing sector. These are areas where we're going to see more investments, [especially] clean technologies to reduce the carbon footprint,” he said.

Both Canada and the UAE are “resource intensive economies” that are looking to reach net zero by 2050 and the commonality of their goals is also a driver of investments.

“It's only natural that we would work together to reach that goal,” he said.

“We [already] see Canadian firms here that are actively working within the oil and gas sector” bringing sustainability, clean energy and energy efficiency technologies to the industry, he added.

The UAE's hosting of the Cop28 summit this year in Dubai has also opened up new avenues of investment for Canadian companies and while it's difficult to give specific numbers, “we're definitely seeing a lot of interest”, Mr Linteau said.

Sustainability is a theme so “watch for announcements between now and then”, he added.

The UAE’s economic rebound from the pandemic-driven slowdown, the continued non-oil economic growth momentum and its position as a regional hub is an added attraction for Canadian investors.

The country's economy posted about 7.6 per cent gross domestic growth last year, the highest in 11 years, after expanding 3.9 per cent in 2021. It is projected to grow 3.3 per cent in 2023 and 4.3 per cent in 2024, according to the latest UAE Central Bank data.

“The UAE is the natural jumping point for the region, and this is why for Canadian business, the UAE punches way above its weight,” he said.

Already, more than 150 Canadian businesses are operating in the UAE and some use it as their base for global exports and re-exports.

Canada is the biggest exporter of lentils globally and a number of Canadian companies are importing pulses to the UAE, processing it and then re-exporting it to more than 70 countries, Mr Linteau said.


The Emirates is the 'natural jumping point for the region, and this is why for Canadian business, the UAE punches way above its weight', Mr Linteau said. 
Antonie Robertson / The National

UAE investors are also equally interested in solidifying their presence in Canada, with Abu Dhabi's clean energy company Masdar being the latest to explore investment options in the G7 economy.

“Masdar is interested in projects around green hydrogen and renewable energy all over the world and that's what we hope that we can do in Canada with Masdar,” he said.

“We need players like them that are serious, know what they're doing, and are capable in order to achieve our energy transition goals.”

The aggregate value of the UAE’s investment in Canada has already reached $30 billion, according to the UAE Ministry of the Economy data.

Mubadala Investment Company, Abu Dhabi National Energy Company (Taqa) and DP World are among the major UAE investors that hold significant business interests in the Canadian oil and gas and petrochemicals sectors as well the country’s ports infrastructure.

Mubadala holds a stake in petrochemicals producer Novo Chemicals, while DP World has investments in the Ports of Vancouver, Prince Rupert, Nanaimo and Saint John. Taqa holds interests in major upstream oil and gas projects in Alberta and Saskatchewan provinces through its subsidiary Taqa North America.

Mr Linteau expects DP World to continue to boost its investment in Canada as “they're very happy with what they've achieved so far and [we] expect to see them continuing to double down”, he said.

“They have done regular investments both on the east and west coasts.”

Since the pandemic, Canadian investment into the UAE has tripled. My expectation is to continue to see it growing based on the excellent economic fundamentals and welcoming environment that the UAE offers to Canadian investors
Jean-Philippe Linteau, Canada's consul general in Dubai

In April, the two countries launched the Canada-UAE Sovereign Wealth Fund Council, with the aim of exploring investment opportunities for their state-owned funds that have an estimated $3 trillion in assets.

The SWFC is tasked with finding “synergies between Canada and the UAE’s pre-eminent institutional investors to deliver superior risk-adjusted returns”, Canada’s ambassador to the UAE, Kris Panday, said at the time.

“What they [the funds] have in common is that they are among the best in the world at doing what they do and that is deploying capital,” Mr Linteau said.

“What I expect to see is collaborations on sustainability, the green economy and energy transition … and maybe infrastructure as well.

“There are huge opportunities in the Middle East and these funds here know the region very well, much better than the Canadians, so that's another area of interest.”

While investments are on the rise, bilateral trade between the two countries has also increased over the past few years.

Since 2018, the value of bilateral trade has consistently grown, climbing 1.6 per cent year-on-year to C$2.558 billion at the end of 2022. With the value of trade reaching C$994 million in the first four months of this year, it is set to surpass the highs achieved last year.

“We've seen an increase in the trade numbers, as high as it's ever been, and I'm going to make a prediction here that in 2023 it will be the highest ever,” Mr Linteau said.

Last year, the UAE was Canada’s second-largest merchandise trade partner in the Mena region after Saudi Arabia. It was also the biggest Canadian merchandise export market in Mena, with aggregate value of exports reaching C$1.8 billion.

Canada is interested in boosting trade with the UAE further in the long term, potentially through a Comprehensive economic partnership agreement (Cepa).

However, its current focus is to conclude negotiations on a Foreign investment protection agreement (Fipa) with the UAE that will help boost protection for investors in both jurisdictions, he said.

Once it concludes a Fipa deal, which Mr Linteau expects may happen this year, Canada will look at the potential of a broader trade deal with the UAE, which has already signed Cepa agreements with India, Indonesia, Turkey and Israel.

“Canada has free trade agreements with over 50 countries and is the only G7 country that has a trade agreement with all other G7 countries,” he said.

“The UAE is obviously a very attractive economy” with whom it can look at a potential trade deal, however, “in the short term, our priority is to conclude the Fipa”, he added.