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Friday, June 19, 2026

 

The methodology of wickedness: Data reveals the most evil Disney villain

The methodology of wickedness: The most evil Disney villain unmasked
Copyright Walt Disney - Canva


By David Mouriquand
Published on

The House of Mouse has given audiences some cracking scoundrels over the years. Some heinous, some nightmarish, and some deeply misunderstood. And one is especially irredeemable...

“The more successful the villain, the more successful the picture.”

Alfred Hitchcock wasn’t wrong when he offered these words of wisdom.

Heroes are great and all that, but a great antagonist makes a film.

From Hannibal Lecter to Lots-o-Huggin' Bear, via Anton Chigurh and the Joker, it’s plain to see that devious bastards are the ones that stand out.

Disney is no different in this respect. Beyond loveable protagonists and, let’s face facts, very creepy princes who need to learn that an erection is not consent, the House of Mouse has given audiences some cracking scoundrels. Some heinous. Some nightmarish. Some deeply misunderstood.

But which Disney villain is the most evil?

Everyone has their favourites in this respect – with the Euronews Culture team split between the devious Jafar in Aladdin and the business-savvy octopus queen of sass that is Ursula in The Little Mermaid.

However, the good folks at PixlParade have taken it upon themselves to take a data-driven approach to the question.

They have compiled a list of the most popular Disney villains, included some deep cuts, and stressed that their focus is on original Disney antagonists. So no Star Wars or Marvel characters.

The team then established point values to the crimes, violations and prejudices the characters are guilty of. For example, mass murder gets you 50 points; child abuse / cruelty adds 15 points to the rap sheet; and arson will cost an extra 8 points... The points were totalled to produce a final score and a ranking of the 50 most evil antagonists.

You can check out the full villain scoring rubric point values and their sub-divisions here.

The number one villain may surprise you...

Before we get to the top spot, we can tell you that Cruella de Vil ranks surprisingly low considering her crimes against animals (35th spot). Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ Evil Queen is also quite low (33), despite attempted murder, abuse of power and assault. As for Master Control Program in 1982’s Tron, it comes in at 19 with charges including attempted genocide / mass murder, psychological abuse, and theft.

Trust AI, they said... It'll be fine, they said...

Now to the Top 10.

Sleeping Beauty’s Maleficent comes in at 10 with a total of 241 points; the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise’s Captain Hector Barbossa and Captain Salazar are at 9 and 8 respectively (242 / 253); The Nightmare Before Christmas’ Oogie Boogie is in 7 with 271 points; Scar from The Lion King just misses the Top 5 with an already impressive 284 tally; Mulan’s Shan Yu makes n°5 (313); Gravity Falls’ Bill Cipher is a surprisingly high entry at 4 (375); the Horned King from the lesser-known 1985 film The Black Cauldron steals the bronze with three extra points and a total of 378; and The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe’s Jadis the White Witch nabs the silver with 418 points...

Drumroll, please.

According to the analysis, the worst, most irredeemable, most evil Disney villain is... Judge Claude Frollo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Judge Claude Frollo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Judge Claude Frollo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame Walt Disney

The religious fanatic and extreme xenophobe led a crusade of “moral cleansing” and earned the highest score of 425 among the Disney villains.

He is guilty of... Deep breath... Murder, genocide / mass murder, attempted genocide / mass murder, attempted child murder, attempted murder, assisting / ordering / conspiring murder, attempted domination, mass indoctrination / enslavement, attempted forced marriage, war crimes, child abuse / cruelty, terrorism, torture, tyranny, abuse of power, unlawful imprisonment, exploitation, kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, psychological abuse, psychological torture, stalking, animal cruelty, assault, hate crimes, mass arson, vandalism, mass property / environmental damage, deception / cheating / fraud, slander, treason / betrayal, harassment, sexual harassment, aaaaaaaaaaand conspiracy.

How does he find the time?? And good luck to any lawyer representing him. Not even Atticus Finch could get him off - especially when you recall his teaching methods with Quasimodo during that alphabet recital scene.

A is for Abomination. B is for Blasphemy. C is for Contrition. D is for Damnation. E is for Eternal damnation...

What do you think? Is Judge Frollo worthy of most evil Disney villain, or was another cheated of the top spot?

Just don't say Captain Hook. If ever there was a misunderstood "villain", it's the Captain of the Jolly Roger. How would you feel if some arrogant flying twink who kidnaps children chopped off your hand and fed the limb to a crocodile??

#JusticeForCap.




Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Is US Influence In Africa At A Crossroads? – Analysis

June 10, 2026 
Published by the Foreign Policy Research Institute
By Charles A. Ray

(FPRI) — The United States enters the second half of the 2020s facing a fundamental question in Africa: Is Washington still seen as a strategic partner of choice, or is it becoming a transactional power whose engagement is seen as narrow, punitive, and unpredictable? This is no longer a theoretical question. It is now being tested in southern Africa, West Africa, the Sahel, and in the mineral-rich heart of the African continent.

Strained US-South African relations, friction with Nigeria over claims of religious persecution, renewed efforts to regain some counterterrorism footing in the Sahel, and the controversies around third-country deportation deals and minerals diplomacy all point to a larger issue. While the United States is not pulling away from Africa altogether, it is redefining its presence in ways that could either sharpen its influence or erode it.

For decades, American influence in Africa has been based on a mix of security cooperation, development assistance, diplomatic engagement, and support for good governance and public health. Such support was never without contradictions, but it did give Washington a broader identity than that of a purely extractive or coercive actor. Currently, the pattern of US engagement looks different. It is more selective, more openly associated with immediate political priorities, and much more willing to link diplomatic engagement to issues such as migration control, ideological signaling, or commercial access to strategic minerals. On a continent where governments already have alternatives to China or Russia, such as the Gulf states, Turkey, India, and the European Union, this shift matters. African leaders are increasingly able to hedge, diversify, and resist external pressure. If the United States appears to them to be mainly interested in punitive actions, one-off deals, or symbolic confrontations, it risks losing not just goodwill but also long-term leverage.

South Africa: From Strategic Disagreement to Diplomatic Rupture

The most visible and significant deterioration has been in US relations with South Africa. President Donald Trump’s move to disinvite South Africa from the 2026 G20 Summit in Miami followed an already dramatic breakdown, in which US officials boycotted the South African-hosted Johannesburg summit. In addition, the Trump administration escalated claims that white Afrikaners were being persecuted or subjected to “genocide,” allegations that South African officials, and even groups representing Afrikaners, have strongly rejected. Despite no substantiation of the claims, the US administration prioritized refugee admissions for white South Africans even as refugee access was curtailed for many other groups. Whether these steps are viewed as moral positioning or domestic political theater, the effect is the same in Africa: The United States looks willing to rupture ties with one of the continent’s most important powers on the basis of a narrative that many Africans see as ideologically loaded and factually questionable.


Feelings like this matter because South Africa is not just another bilateral partner. It is a leading voice in the African Union, Africa’s largest economy, a member of numerous multilateral organizations, and a country whose positions often shape broader African perceptions. A rupture with Pretoria, therefore, has an impact beyond trade or bilateral diplomatic relations. It signals to other African governments that Washington might be prepared to downgrade relations with an influential African nation not over conventional disputes such as sanctions, military alignment, or treaty obligations, but over a polarizing culture war issue. Many are likely to read this less as principled diplomacy than as evidence that domestic American policies can redefine foreign policy priorities toward the continent.

This could have significant consequences. In the first place, the dispute with South Africa weakens US credibility as a defender of multilateralism at a time when African governments are skeptical of Western selectivity. Secondly, it risks pushing South Africa to deepen cooperation with other powers, including China and Russia, not necessarily out of ideological agreement but as a hedge against US hostility and unreliability. Thirdly, it might reinforce a broader continental impression that the United States is comfortable engaging African countries only when they align with US domestic priorities. Even those governments that disagree with South Africa on some issues might still resent what they see as public humiliation of an African power at the first African-hosted G20 Summit.


In diplomacy, symbolism is important, and it can be costly for the United States.
Nigeria: An Ideological Cloud Over Security Cooperation

While South Africa is an example of an increasing diplomatic rupture, Nigeria is a more complicated situation. It is an illustration of deep strategic importance combined with rising political distrust. Nigeria is central to any serious American engagement in West Africa. With over 240 million people, it is the most populous country in Africa; it is one of its largest economies; it is a major security player in the Lake Chad Basin; and it is a critical player in regional diplomacy. But US-Nigerian relations are strained because the Trump administration has redesignated it as a Country of Particular Concern, based on what the US government describes as mass-scale persecution of Christians, and the increasingly heated rhetoric from Washington that frames violence in Nigeria primarily through the lens of Christian persecution. While this framing resonates strongly with segments of the American right’s political base, in Nigeria it is viewed by many as incomplete, politicized, and dangerously provocative.


Violence in Nigeria is real and serious, and Christian communities have suffered grievously in parts of the country. But Nigerian officials credibly argue that the violence also involves jihadist insurgency, banditry, communal conflict, weak policing, and governance failures rather than a single, state-directed campaign of religious persecution. In a country whose population is almost evenly split between Christians, who live in the south, and Muslims, mostly in the north, where attacks have been concentrated, and where the religion of victims is not often reported—or relevant—it is impossible to conclusively attribute religious persecution as a motive. When Washington ignores these distinctions, it risks alienating Abuja and oversimplifying a crisis that requires careful analysis and cooperation rather than mere denunciation. Washington’s calls for aid conditionality, sanctions, visa restrictions, and pressure against sharia and blasphemy laws might appeal to some audiences in the United States, but they risk making Nigerian leaders more defensive and less willing to coordinate closely with the United States on security matters.

Neither side, though, can afford a complete breakdown of the relationship. The United States needs Nigeria’s cooperation on intelligence, regional stabilization, energy, maritime security in the Gulf of Guinea, and counterterrorism activities in the Lake Chad corridor. Nigeria, on the other hand, benefits greatly from US training, intelligence, diplomatic support, and economic ties. For this reason, outright rupture of the relationship is not the main risk. What is more probable is a more corrosive relationship, one that remains functionally intact, but that is less trusting, less open, and more transactional. If the United States is seen as lecturing Nigeria from a narrow ideological frame while simultaneously asking for deeper security cooperation, its leverage will be weaker. Abuja might continue to work with the United States where interests overlap, but it might also diversify its partnership and resist American pressure more openly and directly.


The Sahel: Counterterrorism Cooperation Returns, But With Tighter Constraints

The Sahel is another stress test of US influence in Africa. After the loss of key access points, particularly in Niger, where Washington had a drone base, the United States has been looking for ways to reestablish a viable counterterrorism posture, not just in West Africa, but in the broader Sahel.

The current Trump administration appears to be renewing its focus on the Sahel, as it seeks to renew ties with the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso, with delegations to the capitals of the three countries discussing US military support in exchange for access to their natural resources. Washington would consider providing weapons, equipment, and potentially personnel to aid local forces fighting extremists. In return, the United States would get priority access to uranium, gold, and other critical minerals. This approach emphasizes intelligence sharing, training, and advisory missions, rather than large-scale deployments of US military forces. While this is, on the surface, a pragmatic-sounding adjustment to current political realities, the AES, which was formed in 2023, already has strong ties to Russia, including the presence of military advisors, training support, and supply of arms, and since 2025 AES foreign ministers have concluded agreements with Russia on security, energy, and higher education. This limits America’s freedom of action in the region.


Some progress has been made on moving this new agenda forward, with an intelligence cooperation agreement with Mali near completion and the removal of sanctions on some senior Malian defense personnel, but despite the potential of getting Washington back in the good graces of Sahelian countries, these changes in US policy are unlikely to offset Russian or Chinese influence in the region. Unfettered US access to the Sahel will be difficult because the environment has changed in three significant ways. First, access to the region is now contested. Governments that have survived coups or insurgencies are more suspicious of Western intentions and more willing to use anti-Western rhetoric to bolster regime legitimacy. Second, the external competition is greater. Russia offers assistance with fewer political conditions attached, while China and the Gulf states expand their economic influence through infrastructure construction, mining, and commercial deals. Even Turkey and Europe are ahead of the United States in terms of trade with the Sahel. Third, the populations of the Sahel are disillusioned with security agreements that promised stability but failed to deliver, and US competitors, Russia in particular, have used this in their propaganda campaigns. In this context, even a small US footprint can be portrayed as neo-imperialism rather than a mutually beneficial partnership.

This presents the United States with a serious strategic dilemma. If Washington’s focus is narrowly on counterterrorism, it might regain some operational advantage but lose credibility with countries on the continent on governance and democratic norms. If, on the other hand, it insists too heavily on constitutional order and political reform, it might find itself excluded from the security spaces it considers vital.

A logical hybrid strategy, which the current administration shows no sign of pursuing, would be to intensify work with cooperative countries like Nigeria, other coastal West African partners, and perhaps even northern anchor states outside the coup belt, while monitoring Sahelian threats from the periphery. While this is the most practical and realistic option, it’s not the same as influence. It’s damage limitation, which African leaders will recognize. On the Sahel, the United States seems to be in a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. The question then becomes, does it focus on short-term gains, or swallow the pain and focus on long-term credibility in the rest of the continent? We can only wait and see.


Assistance, Minerals, and Deportation Deals: The Cost of Transactionalism

A recent issue that highlights the current administration’s approach to Africa is the growing overlap among strategic minerals diplomacy, aid leverage, and domestic immigration enforcement.

The DRC has drawn a lot of attention because of US efforts to secure access to the critical minerals in its conflict-ridden eastern region, and because it has become part of a network of African countries accepting third-country deportees from the United States. There are reports of similar agreements with countries such as Rwanda, Eswatini, and Sierra Leone. Critics of the deportation agreements, such as Human Rights Watch(HRW), argue that these opaque deals violate human rights law and are “part of a policy that is designed to instrumentalize human suffering as a deterrent to migration.” The governments implementing such deals risk violating international law. Human Rights Watch claims to have seen a copy of the agreement with Rwanda that includes an inducement of approximately $7.5 million in US financial support in exchange for Rwanda’s acceptance of third-country deportees. The agreement with Eswatini, according to HRW. Offers $5.1 million to build Eswatini’s border and migration management capacity in exchange for the country accepting up to 160 deportees from the United States. These agreements effectively turn African governments into subcontractors for US immigration control operations, and, even where they are accepted willingly, the public optics can be damaging in the long term.


Though not as serious in human rights terms as the deportation deals, the reported use by Washington of assistance funding as leverage to secure access to critical minerals is just as controversial.

In November 2025, according to a report in Al Jazeera, the United States approached Zimbabwe with an offer of $300 million in funding in exchange for sensitive health data, which Harare rejected, and around the same time, Washington announced $1 billion in health funding for Zambia, which Lusaka said was problematic because the United States sought access to the country’s minerals. In the minerals deal with the DRC, as mentioned above, the situation is even shakier due to the DRC’s security situation and the weakness of the DRC government. The deal could possibly entail the commitment of US security resources, including ‘boots on the ground’ in one of the least stable countries in the world.

Diversifying and securing US mineral supply chains is essential for economic and national security. It is also important to support African nations’ efforts to exploit mineral wealth for sustainable growth and to reduce extremist violence. But African audiences are unlikely to appreciate the nuances of these policy issues. If a country appears to be receiving security support or mineral investments at the same time it agrees to accept deportees who are not nationals of the country, or there is a sudden influx of American mining companies where there were none before, many will conclude that Washington is monetizing vulnerability. That impression is intensified by Washington’s perceived shift away from traditional development assistance and toward dealmaking framed explicitly around US gain. From the American perspective, this might be candid realism. But, from African perspectives, it looks like coercive diplomacy dressed up as partnership. The difference is not semantic. It goes directly to whether the United States is seen as a trusted and reliable actor or a neo-colonial exploiter to be used when unavoidable.

That doesn’t mean that the United States should not be interested in African critical minerals. Quite the contrary. Competition over cobalt, lithium, copper, tantalum, and rare earth supply chains will be central to global industrial policy and security for a long time to come, and the United States has compelling reasons to avoid overdependence on Chinese-dominated systems. But there is a difference between building mutually beneficial mineral partnerships and appearing to tie security guarantees, diplomatic mediation, or migration deals to access to extract these minerals. If Africans believe that every American initiative ultimately serves a narrow resource agenda, Washington’s strategic reach might become shallower even in areas where its commercial footprint is large. Influence is not measured by contracts signed; it’s measured by whether partners believe the relationship has mutual value.


What Does All This Mean for US Influence in Africa in the Future?

In the coming years, US influence in Africa is likely to fluctuate rather than simply grow stronger or weaker. The United States will remain consequential because it offers many African states access to finance, technology, military training, intelligence, higher education, health partnerships, and diplomatic clout. In times of crisis, the United States can still make an enormous difference. But influence will increasingly depend on whether African governments see US engagement as broad-based and dependable, or as selective and punitive. The current trend points toward selective influence: stronger in nations or sectors where American interests are immediate, weaker in the broader contest for legitimacy and long-term political trust.


This loss of legitimacy and trust matters because the United States no longer operates in an arena where African governments have few alternatives, and where it provided a clear alternative to extractive countries like China and Russia. China is still deeply entrenched in infrastructure, trade, and mining. Russia continues to exploit security vacuums and elite insecurity, particularly in fragile states. The countries of the Persian Gulf are expanding investment, logistics, and political influence, and Turkey and India are also broadening their footprints. In such a competitive environment, an American strategy centered on coercive pressure, punishment, or one-sided dealmaking is unlikely to generate durable alignments. Some African governments might still accept American offers, but they will do so for short-term tactical reasons rather than long-term loyalty. They are likely to shop around, compare offers, and push back when US demands seem politically costly at home.

There is, therefore, considerable reputational risk for Washington. If the United States is seen as championing refugee protection for white Afrikaners while restricting other refugee channels, invoking religious freedom in Nigeria in ways that are viewed as partisan, seeking renewed counterterrorism access without broader political vision, and using aid to achieve mineral access or support for America’s deportation problems, a coherent image begins to emerge. It is an image of a powerful country that is interested in Africa less as a community of sovereign partners than as a set of problems to manage and assets to acquire. That image might be inaccurate and unfair in some respects, but perceptions often matter more than official intent. And in international affairs, reputational damage accumulates quietly before it becomes strategically obvious.

The decline in US influence is not inevitable, at least not permanent. The United States could still preserve, and in some areas even rebuild or increase its influence if it recalibrates its approach to Africa in three ways. First, it would need to treat major African states such as South Africa and Nigeria as strategic interlocutors, even when there are sharp disagreements, instead of turning disputes into public tests of ideological loyalty. Second, it needs to embed security cooperation within a broader framework that includes trade, governance support, education, and health, so that military engagement doesn’t become the only face of US official policy. Third, it would need to ensure that mineral partnerships and migration agreements are transparent, legally defensible, clearly reciprocal, and they are not linked to humanitarian programs. In short, Washington must show that it is not merely transacting with Africa but is investing in relationships.

The disputes now unfolding in Africa are not isolated controversies. Taken together, they reveal a broader transition in US policy from a relatively broad, if at times imperfect, model of engagement to a narrower, more transactional one. The clash with South Africa shows just how quickly political symbolism can wreak havoc with strategic relationships. The strain with Nigeria shows the danger of reducing complex insecurity to a single ideological narrative. The push to regain a foothold in the Sahel for counterterrorism operations shows that military relevance can survive even as political influence fades. And the convergence of minerals diplomacy, aid pressure, and deportation deals shows how easily hard-nosed realism can become reputational self-harm.

The United States is unlikely to pull back completely from Africa in the coming years, if for no other reason than the need to address the counterterrorism issue. But it risks becoming less admired, less trusted, and less able to shape outcomes beyond narrow areas of immediate interest. For some in Washington, that might be acceptable if concrete short-term gains in security, mineral access, and migration control are achieved. But great power influence is not sustained by transactions alone. It depends on credibility, predictability, and partners’ belief that the relationship serves more than one side’s short-term aims. If the United States wants lasting influence in Africa, it will have to prove that it still sees African states not just as instruments of policy or powerless pawns in great-power competition, but as consequential partners in shaping and preserving the international order.


About the author: 
Charles A. Ray, a member of the Board of Trustees and Chair of the Africa Program at the Foreign Policy Research Institute, served as US Ambassador to the Kingdom of Cambodia and the Republic of Zimbabwe.

Source: This article was published by FPRI

About the Foreign Policy Research Institute
Founded in 1955, FPRI is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization devoted to bringing the insights of scholarship to bear on the development of policies that advance U.S. national interests and seeks to add perspective to events by fitting them into the larger historical and cultural context of international politics.
View all posts by Published by the Foreign Policy Research Institute →

Sunday, June 07, 2026

Republic at Risk: Slow Erosion of Trust in India’s Diverse Democracy


Shabir Ahmad Ganaie |



The biggest challenge is whether the social trust necessary to sustain diversity is gradually weakening.


India’s greatest strength has never been uniformity. It has always been its ability to accommodate difference.

From ancient kingdoms to the modern republic, the subcontinent evolved not as a single cultural bloc but as a layered civilisation shaped by multiple faiths, languages, ethnicities, and traditions coexisting within the same political space. Pluralism in India is, therefore, not a fashionable constitutional slogan. It is a historical necessity.

The inscriptions of Emperor Ashoka urged respect for all sects and warned against glorifying one faith by condemning another. Centuries later, Mughal emperor Akbar attempted to institutionalise coexistence through sulh i kul, or “peace with all,” as a governing principle for a deeply diverse empire.

In the 20th century, leaders of the freedom movement reinterpreted this civilisational inheritance within a democratic framework. India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, repeatedly argued that secularism was not merely a moral preference but a structural requirement for the survival of a nation as diverse as India.

That warning appears increasingly relevant today.

The central challenge before modern India is no longer whether diversity exists. The challenge is whether the social trust necessary to sustain diversity is gradually weakening.

Over the past decade, recurring incidents of mob violence, communal polarisation, hate speech, and identity-based hostility have generated growing anxiety about the health of India’s democratic culture.

According to recent findings by the Pew Research Center, a significant proportion of Indians across communities continue to value religious diversity, yet many simultaneously prefer strong social separation between religious groups in matters such as marriage and neighborhood life. The coexistence of diversity alongside deepening social distance presents a serious democratic contradiction.

Similarly, the Sweden based V Dem Institute has repeatedly raised concerns regarding increasing polarisation, pressures on civil liberties, and democratic backsliding in India in its annual democracy reports. Regardless of political interpretation, such assessments indicate growing international concern regarding the condition of democratic institutions and civic trust.

One of the most widely discussed cases was the 2019 lynching of Tabrez Ansari in Jharkhand after allegations of theft. Videos of the assault circulated nationally and intensified debate over mob violence, religious polarisation, and delayed institutional response.

Another controversial case concerns the death of Tauseef Raza Mazhari from Kishanganj. Police described the incident as an accidental railway death, while family members alleged assault and foul play. The investigation remains ongoing. Yet the broader issue extends beyond the facts of a single case. In polarised societies, conflicting narratives themselves become sources of instability. Suspicion deepens rapidly when communities lose confidence in impartial institutional processes.

There have also been documented reports of harassment and intimidation targeting Kashmiri students and traders in different parts of India during periods of heightened political tension following developments in Jammu and Kashmir. Civil society groups and independent observers have recorded incidents involving threats, verbal abuse, and social exclusion.

These incidents do not by themselves define India. Nor do they erase the country’s still significant institutional resilience and democratic diversity. However, together they point toward a disturbing transformation in public culture, where religious identity increasingly shapes perceptions of loyalty, belonging, and security.

The danger extends beyond isolated acts of violence.

Democracies rarely collapse only through coups or constitutional breakdowns. More often, they weaken gradually when equal citizenship begins to feel uncertain for sections of society.

When citizens begin believing that justice depends upon identity, democratic trust starts eroding from within.

This erosion carries long term consequences.

Polarisation weakens public faith in institutions. It deepens social fragmentation. It reduces political disagreements into civilisational conflicts. It normalises suspicion between communities that must continue sharing the same society long after elections and headlines fade away.

Recent monitoring by organisations such as India Hate Lab has documented rising instances of hate speech at public events in recent years, particularly during politically charged periods. Such developments matter because rhetoric often shapes social behaviour long before violence becomes visible on the streets.

Comparative experiences from South Asia offer particularly important warnings.

In Pakistan, the Ahmadiyya community has faced decades of legal and social exclusion following the constitutional amendment of 1974 and Ordinance XX of 1984, which prohibited Ahmadis from publicly identifying as Muslims or openly practicing central aspects of their faith.

Human rights organisations, including Human Rights Watch, have repeatedly documented discrimination, blasphemy related prosecutions, attacks on places of worship, and systematic marginalisation targeting the community.

One of the deadliest incidents occurred in Lahore in May 2010, when coordinated attacks on Ahmadi mosques killed nearly ninety worshippers during Friday prayers.

Pakistan demonstrates how exclusion, once normalised legally and politically, can slowly harden into a wider culture of social hostility.

Bangladesh presents a different but equally relevant warning. Human rights organisations have documented repeated attacks on Hindu minorities during periods of political unrest and communal tension. Such episodes demonstrate how quickly minorities become vulnerable when institutions appear weakened, inconsistent, or politically polarised.

These examples are not presented as simplistic equivalence. India’s constitutional structure remains substantially stronger and more democratic than either comparison. Yet constitutional strength alone cannot guarantee social stability.

A common counterargument is that communal tensions and identity conflicts have always existed in India, and that present concerns are therefore exaggerated. History certainly shows that India has witnessed communal violence before. However, the normalisation of polarisation through digital media ecosystems, continuous political mobilization around identity, and the speed at which misinformation now spreads create a far more volatile environment than earlier decades. The scale of amplification has changed dramatically.

Institutions survive not merely through laws, but through public confidence in their neutrality.

That confidence weakens when hate speech becomes normalised in political discourse.

It weakens when communities are portrayed as permanent adversaries rather than equal citizens.

It weakens when mob violence becomes routine enough to stop shocking society.

It weakens when television debates reward outrage more than verification.

Sections of India’s television media ecosystem increasingly operate through confrontation driven formats where sensationalism generates greater commercial value than factual nuance. In such environments, communal tensions are often amplified instead of responsibly contextualised.

Popular culture and cinema also influence social imagination in subtle but lasting ways. Repeated stereotypes and simplified portrayals of religious communities gradually shape perceptions of threat, patriotism, and belonging within public consciousness.

The deeper danger, therefore, is not only communal conflict. The deeper danger is the slow corrosion of democratic trust itself.

No diverse nation can remain stable if large sections of its population begin feeling politically disposable, socially unwelcome, or institutionally unprotected.

Addressing these concerns requires responsibility across institutions.

The state and law enforcement agencies must ensure consistent and impartial enforcement of law in cases involving communal violence, hate speech, and intimidation.

Political leadership must exercise restraint in rhetoric that risks reducing citizens into permanent religious camps for electoral mobilisation.

The judiciary must ensure timely accountability so that impunity does not become normalised.

Media institutions must prioritise verification over sensational amplification, especially during sensitive communal incidents.

Educational institutions, civil society groups, and religious organisations must actively reinforce constitutional ethics, inter community understanding, and habits of coexistence in everyday life.

Ultimately, however, responsibility also belongs to society itself. Democracies depend not only upon constitutions and courts, but upon ordinary civic choices made daily by citizens, whether to reject rumours, resist collective blame, and preserve empathy during moments of tension.

India’s diversity is not under threat because diversity exists. It comes under threat when trust disappears between communities expected to live together within the same democratic framework.

Nations rarely fracture in a single dramatic moment. More often, they weaken slowly through accumulated suspicion, normalised hostility, and unresolved tensions.

What is ultimately at stake is not merely the absence of conflict, but the preservation of trust itself.

And once trust erodes, rebuilding it becomes far more difficult than preserving it ever was.

Shabir Ahmad Ganaie is a researcher in South Asian history, specialsing in socio-political dynamics, minority experiences, and marginalised voices. Shabeerhistory18@gmail.com. The views are personal.

Wednesday, June 03, 2026

‘Disturbing Trend of Lawlessness’: UN Experts Denounce Trump’s Coercive Brutalization of Cuban People


“The normalization of coercion and threats of regime change undermines the 
 integrity of the entire international legal order,” said three top rights experts.


Julia Conley
Jun 03, 2026
COMMON DREAMS

A trio of United Nations rights experts on Tuesday demanded that the US government “cease all threats” against Cuba and accused President Donald Trump of furthering a “disturbing trend of lawlessness” with preparations to attack the island nation; a indictment of its former president; and a protracted oil blockade that has left Cubans facing blackouts and a breakdown of their lauded healthcare system.

“Efforts to change the constitutional order of a sovereign state through threats and coercion echo colonial-era practices,” said George Katrougalos, independent expert on the promotion of a democratic international order; Zaina Jallad, special rapporteur on unilateral coercive measures; and Ben Saul, special rapporteur on counterterrorism and human rights.

The experts pointed to Trump’s declaration of what’s become known as the Donroe Doctrine, “asserting US predominance over the Western Hemisphere” through military might, and his repeated comments regarding the possibility of taking over Cuba, whose communist government, Trump has said, has turned the country into a “failing nation.”

“Statements by the US president regarding the ‘honor of taking Cuba’ reflect a deeply concerning strategy of coercion against a sovereign state,” said the experts. “This assertion is not mere rhetoric, but part of a broader strategy involving the long-standing embargo on Cuba, its listing as a state-sponsor of terrorism, the recent fuel blockade, and the imposition of coercive measures on third parties.”




In January, Trump issued an executive order centered around the assertion—a laughable one, according to Cuban and international officials—that the country poses an “extraordinary threat” to the US, and warned other countries to stop providing oil to the island. The Trump administration had already cut off Cuba’s main energy source earlier that month when it abducted Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and took control of the country’s oil reserves.

The oil blockade—which Secretary of State Marco Rubio has recently denied the existence of—has left hospitals facing shortages of supplies and medicines, forced schools to cut hours, caused trash to pile up in streets as sanitation operations have struggled to continue, and left cities and towns across the country with just a few hours of electricity per day.

Rubio, the son of Cuban immigrants who left the country for the US years before Fidel Castro took power following the 1959 revolution, has long called for regime change in Cuba and has resisted efforts to normalize US-Cuban relations.

The UN experts said the blocking of oil imports to Cuba is “part of a disturbing trend of lawlessness and contempt of multilateralism and the UN Charter. The normalization of coercion and threats of regime change undermines the integrity of the entire international legal order.”

The experts also condemned the US indictment last month of former Cuban President Raúl Castro, which they said appeared connected to the administration’s “efforts to undermine Cuba’s sovereignty” and characterized as a “misuse of domestic judicial proceedings.”

The also said that the indictment—“an instrument of coercive foreign policy”—represents “an abuse of process that violates the principles of sovereign equality and self-determination under the UN Charter.”

Additionally, the deployment of the USS Nimitz to the southern Caribbean, they said, contravenes articles 2(4) and 2(7) of the UN Charter, which, respectively, prohibit the threat or use of force and demand non-intervention in domestic affairs by the UN.

The experts called on UN member states to “refrain from recognizing or implementing measures that violate the principles of sovereign equality and non-intervention” and urged the UN Security Council and General Assembly to “urgently address the threats against Cuba as a matter affecting international peace and security.”

“A democratic and equitable international order,” they said, “requires that all states, regardless of size or power, participate on equal footing, free from undue pressure.”


The Donroe Doctrine Strangles Cuba


 June 2, 2026


A woman checks a cell phone during a blackout in Havana, Cuba on June 2, 2026.
(Photo by Adalberto Roque/AFP via Getty Images)




One Month Inside the Trump Administration’s Siege on the Cuban People

All eyes are on Cuba as the corporate press is now reporting that U.S. troops are in place to invade any day. The highly-public announcement of the indictment of Raul Castro in U.S. courts on May 23rd on the flimsiest of grounds and the stationing of the USS Nimitz Carrier Strike Group near Cuba seem to indicate that the blockaded island will have its own January 3rd, the day Venezuelan president Nicolas Maduro was kidnapped. As the latest imperial invasion unfolds against a nation and system so many of us have defended for decades, it is vital to have an honest appreciation of the objective and subjective conditions across Cuba. The failure to file on-the-ground reports which capture this bleak reality can lead us leftists to misjudge the severity of a humanitarian crisis that intensifies by the moment. 

The nails of capitalist penetration have been hammering away at economic and political poder popular (popular power) since 1991, the year the Soviet Union collapsed. The last 35 years constitute a tug-of-war between patriotic and anti-patriotic forces, with one side increasingly isolated and the other backed by empire. My work has been to accompany the Cuban masses, from the forgotten barrios of La Lisa in La Habana to the least traveled province, Las Tunas, and collect their testimonies as they fight to survive this historic period of reaction. 

The Trump administration is recolonizing Cuba through the ongoing infiltration by foreign private capital. As we anxiously wait for a cataclysmic event toppling the Revolution in a highly visible way, it is important for leftists and human rights defenders to know that the counterrevolution, characterized by the dominance of private property, is already entrenched and advancing every day. 

The forgotten Indaya neighborhood of Santiago. Photo: Danny Shaw.


The Genesis of the Counterrevolution

10.5 million abandoned “Gazans of the Caribbean” did not arrive here at this moment of mass hunger, severe energy shortages, and the threat of US military intervention, overnight. 35 years of a Special Period — a period of extreme economic asphyxiation — paved the way for the Trump administration to deliver the knockout blow. 

Between 1989 and 1991, in the blink of an eye, the Soviet Union, East Germany and the Socialist block disappeared. Half of the island’s oil supply and 72 percent of its imports vanished between 1989 and 1992. The loss of an estimated $3-$5 billion in mutually beneficial trade (for example, sugar for oil), and annual aid caused Cuba’s GDP to plummet by over 40 percent. The United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation (UNFAO) documented how Cubans’ average daily caloric intake plummeted from 2,600 in the late 1980s to between 1,000 and 1,500 by 1993. This was what Fidel called, in a speech to the Federation of Cuban Women, “the special period in a time of peace.” 

During the special period, the U.S. cut Cuba off from the world, resulting in the return of mass hunger. Meanwhile, foreign capital searched for opportunities to reenter Cuba. 

At the October 1992 4th congress of the Cuban Communist Party (CCP), the state sought to replace mutually-beneficial trade with the Soviet Union and socialist camp countries with “enclave resorts and tour programs [that] were created intentionally to ensure the isolation of international tourism from the state-isolated Cuban society.” The dynamic of tourists with dollars and euros worth many times what Cuban workers could earn introduced distortions into Cuban society that harkened back to the pre-revolutionary period. The most visible deformity was the return of prostitution and other forms of hustling around los puntos – Cuban slang for tourists being a potential source of quick earnings that dwarfed their own. Two new generations of Cubans have wondered what the motivation is to be an engineer or doctor if someone working with foreigners could earn their monthly salaries in one night.  

The next two decades were, relatively, much better economic times, mainly because of solidarity from Bolivarian Venezuela beginning in 1999 and the 2015 detente facilitated by the Obama administration. Trump’s defeat of Hillary Clinton in 2016 signified the end of modest relief. 

In 2017, the billionaire class, pushing Trump into our faces 24/7 as its obnoxious spokesperson, took a scalpel to the Cuban economy, plunging the nation back into the Special Period. With a Gazaesque strategy of surgical precision, they cut off remittances, wiped out tourism and penalized any foreign company that did business with Cuba. By again designating Cuba as a “State Sponsor of Terrorism (SST),” they were able to criminalize any contact with over 230 entities associated with the government, which they frequently updated. The team of White House sadists knew exactly how to reduce the caloric intake of Cubans back to pathetic and emaciated levels. Similar to 1991, but with a population already beaten down with a quarter of a century of hardship, societal measurements of mental health, stress, and life expectancy have been rocked to their core. 

Between the economic bullying coming from the hegemon and the 2020 arrival of COVID-19, which ravaged the tourist-dependent economy, Cuba had already been under fire. There were some good years of tourism post-COVID, but that recovery was upended with the reelection of Trump in 2024. Cuba was already down on the ground, reeling before these latest kicks to its head. 

The Trump administration’s plan, like the fourteen administrations before them, has been to further isolate the Cuban masses and the vestiges of the socialist state, and cut them off from all their sources of foreign exchange. Trump’s tariff threats have meant that Mexico and Cuba’s other trading partners can no longer send oil to the public sector. The right-wing momentum across the hemisphere, under pressure from the fanatical enemy of the Cuban Revolution, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, has forced countries to shut down Cuban medical missions. Kicking out volunteer doctors has caused harm and anger in Honduras, Jamaica and beyond. This was one of the main sources of foreign exchange for the government. The right-wing government of Daniel Noboa in Quito has gone even further, kicking out Cuba’s diplomats. Costa Rica followed suit. 

Meanwhile in Cuba, there has been a new class emerging and gaining economic and political hegemony in Cuba. This is the class, completely hostile to the gains of the revolution for the masses, that for whom Marco Rubio, speaks. Born in Miami to Cuban exile parents, who ironically went into exile during the Machado regime, Rubio is not an organic voice against the Revolution. Israel’s Sheldon Adelson, (and now his widow, Miriam) casino magnate and one of the top fifty richest billionaires in the world, propped him up to be Washington’s voice against a sovereign Cuba. Although he has never visited Cuba, in a rare public address in Spanish on May 20th, Rubio spoke to Cubans, claiming to be on their side and encouraging them to rise up. 

Regardless of the exact form of pending military actions, there is what Cuban Secretary of State Bruno Rodriguez calls an “Economic Genocide” already in motion. Millions of Cuban families are suffering generalized insomnia and demoralization, desperate to know how they will access water, food and electricity in the weeks to come.  

Is there a New Ruling Class in Cuba?

Partially in response to the 2021 food riots which were egged on by U.S. intelligence, corporate news media, and social media the state opened up the economy to 8,000-plus new, private businesses. The PYMES Boom, named after the MIPYMES (the acronym for Micro, Small, and Medium-sized enterprises), saw this new class of entrepreneurs expand and establish deeper partnerships with Miami-based exiles and foreign capital. Under Biden’s government, the Treasury Department facilitated licences for the ongoing investment in private businesses. As much as Biden and Trump, Bush and Clinton may have publicly appeared to be rivals, vis-a-vis Cuba and on almost all foreign policy matters, they have had the same objectives. As the revolutionary rhetoric and billboards slowly faded, the capitalist writing was on the wall. 

According to many Cubans I have talked to during periodic visits to Cuba since 1995, over time the sons and grandsons of government leaders were pulled into the wheeling-and-dealing vortex of the new economic elite. Government representatives and investors frequent the same dollarized spaces denied to the masses and do favors for one another. They own the best land and make profits off strategic real estate. Their affairs are not interrupted by the blockade. In new imported cars, they speed by crowds waiting all day for any means of transportation. The masses resent them and see them as the closest and most visible incarnation of their oppression. These are the subjective conditions many of us who have supported the revolution often deny. 

Most often, lighter-skinned, propertied families who are Cuban exiles or who have family in Miami or Madrid own the more than 11,000 MIPYMES. These two parties of élites have shared the symbolic Cuban cake, shutting out the masses who cannot afford to buy in dollars. At the same time, because the public sector is blockaded, the more affordable mom-and-pop MIPYMES function as a lifeline for families who cannot get food anywhere else. Many cubanos de a pie (everyday Cuban workers) see the grandson of Raul, Sandro Castro, and the Castros’ great nephew Deputy Prime Minister Oscar Pérez-Oliva Fraga, as the personification of this new state-capital alliance. There are daily rumors that one of these two dynastic politicians could be the next president and play the role Delcy Rodriguez has been slated to play in Venezuela, to facilitate recolonization. 

A veteran Cuban journalist, one of my many confidential barometers of the ideological climate, fearing eight years in prison for spouting “counterrevolutionary” ideas, spoke from within the besieged nation, fleshing out the contours of what he sees as a new ruling class: 

“This accumulated capital has continuity from the times of Batista. Many elites left and got richer but came back or invested through family. They are back to dominate the economic arena. We see more clientelism everyday. Like amoeba, the political elites shift in sync with capital. Forget about all the “revolutionary” rhetoric about supporting Palestine and sending doctors abroad. That is all good and are relics of what was, but it is a distraction from the course Cuba is on.”

What I have seen in my most recent visit confirms what many colleagues have been researching. Cuba retains a shell of communism, as capitalism barrels forward over millions of defenseless, battered, disoriented souls, as some of my neighbors in the Plaza de Marte section of Santiago described themselves. 

The Gazification of Cuba

On the afternoon of March 16th 2026, Cuba’s national electric grid collapsed. The U.S. press again reported on this as though it were a natural disaster that had nothing to do with foreign pressure. In a relentless case of double speak, the more the most powerful government in the world attacks, isolates and sabotages Cuba, the more loudly they announce that Cuba is a “failed state.”

That day, I was with a family in Los Olmos neighborhood of Santiago that had to make a decision about throwing out goat meat that was quickly thawing out because of the blackout. The meat was already beginning to smell rancid, but this was more protein than they expected to see for the foreseeable future. Children and grandparents have to sleep with humidity & mosquitos, but no fan. No one can charge their phones or watch their favorite shows. Teachers and nurses cannot get to work. 

Many Cubans younger than 50 years old told me: “If Trump is going to bomb us, he should do it asap. If the U.S. is going to invade us, then do it. These bombs of dehydration, hunger and blackouts are already murdering us.” Historic leader Raul Castro himself has long recognized that in order to stave off counterrevolution, “beans are more important than cannons.” These same Cuban masses were not talking about resistance and “Patria or Muerte” (“Homeland or Death);” they were plotting and hustling every day to see if they could get their children something to drink and eat.   

Like teenagers in Gaza who have for so many decades sat idly by the craters of Zionist and U.S. bombs, the Cuban people watch history pass them by. They’re not allowed daydreams. The idleness is excruciating. 

The collective punishment meted out against the Cuban people reflects the deep disdain Miami-based capital feels for the very masses who three generations ago ousted them from their thrones. Black Cubans, poor Cubans, the Cubans of the Revolution, my friends and comrades whose voices and ideas inform this writing and those who gained so much from decades of building people’s power are now slated for starvation. We cannot underestimate the sadism of those who warn that feeling any empathy for other human beings is weakness. 

Since 2020, an estimated 2.75 million Cubans have exited their homeland, representing one of the sharpest demographic declines in the history of the Caribbean. These economic refugees send home remittances, buy phone minutes and food packages and fight to keep their family members alive. But what about the vast majority of Cubans who do not have family members to help them? Here again the color line sharpens. 

The Nail in the Communist Coffin

Regardless of the exact combination of military force and economic coercion, the U.S. government has put foreign capital back in the drivers’ seat of Cuba’s future. What I have seen, visiting and travelling through Cuba since 1995, and having just traveled one month across Cuba, foreign capital has already deeply penetrated the country and is driving a process of Capitalist Natural Selection. 

Washington is demanding President Diaz-Canel to step down. Whether he does or not is inconsequential in the sense that the economic tide has already shifted. Trump will continue to demand Diaz-Canel’s resignation to suit his ego. It matters little whether the Epstein billionaires rule through the existing ruling apparatus, the CCP (the Venezuela strategy), or through elites in Miami that are rumored to be candidates for future office (the Iran “Pahlavi” plan which thus far has been wildly unsuccessful). 

The counter revolution is first and foremost the counter revolution of property relations. For decades there has been state ownership over the means of production, limiting the rise of social inequality. Fidel Castro and his generation of leadership hated private property and fought to make sure it never again lorded over the Cuban masses. This generation of Castros, however, spoke openly to CNN, claiming that now “the majority of Cubans want to be capitalist.”

Cuba and the Western Left

Much of what I am translating will appear at first glance to be blasphemy for a left that has long seen Cuba as their guiding ideological light. Does critically investigating this claim make one a “counterrevolutionary,” a gusano or worse even, a “Trotskyist?” I am shielded from western critiques because none of these ideas are mine. I am merely an interlocutor after decades of traveling through popular barrios and campos, debating these ideas with the Cuban people. 

According to a recent report on the ground in Havana by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), the Cuban government continues to “try to control the public image.” CBC says they “obtained a recent directive from local media urging positive stories about daily life to fight ‘counterrevolutionary campaigns to promote subversive activities.” Neither the CBC nor any corporate media is trustworthy, but they are confirming what I have heard from los cubanos de a pie (everyday Cubans). Read the state newspapers. Watch the state news programs. The approach is archaic and does not resonate with the youth and everyday people. 

The U.S. left holds on to an outdated image of class relations in Cuba. A rigorous study of the class pillars upon which the 2026 Cuban state is built is likely to evoke disillusionment because it is not consistent with the idealized imaginary upon which their solidarity has been founded. 

The flotillas are, of course, a beautiful sign of solidarity from people who stand with Cuba. FBI harassment of Americans, who continue to travel to Cuba and challenge the blockade,  including the author, shows how far the government is willing to go to starve Cubans. These much-needed supplies will restock some hospitals and pharmacies and save lives. Other supplies could end up being resold by non-idelogical careerists who masquerade as “Marxists.” The revolution attracts the best and worst of us. 

These supplies will be a drop in the ocean of human want. The starvation of the Cuban people that is in motion is structural. No amount of modern-day, last gasps of internationalist solidarity, mixed with humanitarian assistance, can retard the ongoing ascent of private property. The Western-based solidarity movement takes their cues from the government, not the Cuban people. We have long assumed the two march shoulder to shoulder. Nearly a decade after Fidel’s death, this is not a safe assumption. Some of the truest Marxists I have met speak of a “dictatorship of fear” in their homeland. 

Some foresighted Cuban intellectuals in the diaspora, where it is much easier to speak openly on this topic, call and search for a third way forward, independent of the ossified state and the hateful Miami gusano rhetoric. Others deep within the state bureaucracy, unable to speak out publicly, share this vision. This is not a personalized attack on many self-sacrificing Cuban officials at all levels of government, including President Diaz-Canel. They too are powerless before superpersonal class forces. However, many remain quiet and pretend that popular enthusiasm for the revolution is at 1959 or 1989 levels, refusing to sacrifice their own personal privilege. 

Ultimately, in a perpetually besieged state fighting to be free from the genocidal dictates of the U.S., there is no realistic third way forward. The sharp, principled minds critical of the bureaucracy live a semi-clandestine existence in Cuba and have no resources. Any critique of the system is labeled as “counterrevolutionary activity,” punishable with jail time. They see themselves obligated to keep fighting for what was and what could be, from within. Most of Cuba is paralyzed, powerless and hungry, left to wait and see what empire will do with what up until now has been their most defiant holdout.