Tony Blair and Gaza’s ‘Day After’
Al-Masry Al-Youm, Egypt, September 27
Former British prime minister Tony Blair is arguably the third-most consequential political figure in modern British history, after Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher. He won three consecutive parliamentary elections and held power for a decade. Yet one of Blair’s defining traits is his inability to imagine himself outside the circles of power, influence, wealth, and global prominence.
After his role in the invasion of Iraq effectively ended his prospects in domestic politics, he sought an international stage and quickly recognized that Washington held the key. Blair placed himself at the service of successive American administrations, Democratic and Republican alike, eager to remain relevant on the world stage.
In 2007, he accepted the role of the Quartet’s envoy for peace between Palestinians and Israelis, a position more fitting for an ambassador or foreign minister than a former British prime minister. Over eight years, he achieved nothing of substance, aligning himself so closely with Israel that the Palestinian Authority ultimately barred him from entering Ramallah.
Still, Blair refused to retreat from the realm of global influence. After the outbreak of Israel’s brutal assault on Gaza, as nations and international institutions rushed to draft plans for the “day after,” Blair, through his Blair Institute for Global Change, quietly advanced his own proposal.
He crafted a detailed plan and toured it around the world, especially in the United States and the Gulf states, seeking endorsement and funding. In recent days, his efforts have borne fruit: initial approval has been granted for Blair’s plan, which would see him appointed as the UN High Commissioner for Gaza for a five-year term.
The historical resonance is striking. In 1922, the British Mandate over Palestine was declared to implement the Balfour Declaration, and Herbert Samuel became the first high commissioner. Will history repeat itself, and what exactly would this new high commissioner do?
The “Blairian” plan, blessed by US President Donald Trump, and given preliminary approval during a recent meeting with leaders of Arab and Islamic nations, was prepared in coordination with Israeli Minister of Strategic Affairs Ron Dermer. Its centerpiece is the creation of a Gaza Transitional International Authority, modeled on the arrangements in East Timor after its separation from Indonesia, and in Kosovo after its split from Serbia.
The plan avoids direct references to displacement, promising instead to administer and reconstruct Gaza as a bridge to eventual Palestinian Authority governance after internal reforms. The Palestinian Authority would have no authority in Gaza beyond coordination with the new body, which would hold supreme political and legal control, complete with a military arm to manage security, and a financial arm to oversee reconstruction.
At first glance, the proposal may appear neutral, even pragmatic. But the devil, as always, is in the details. The plan stipulates that any voluntary departure of Gazans will not affect their right to return or their property claims, a clause that subtly encourages emigration – something absent in the cases of Kosovo and East Timor.
It also makes no mention of a Palestinian state or the long-term status of the Palestinian Authority, fueling fears that the initiative merely buys time for Israel, which has yet to formally agree to it, to entrench new realities on the ground so that after five years its control will be irreversible.
The Arab world’s experience with Blair, whether in Iraq or during his fruitless tenure as a peace envoy, offers little reason to trust him as the architect of Gaza’s “day after.” – Abdullah Abdul Salam
A deep rift in US-Israel relations
Al Qabas, Kuwait, September 28
The September cover of The Economist stands out as both journalism and art, capturing a pivotal moment in the US–Israeli relationship. Two flags – the Stars and Stripes and the Star of David – appear stitched together, but the connecting thread is fraying so badly that the separation between them is now longer than the seam that binds them.
Inside, the magazine presents a wealth of data, research, and analysis that lays bare an alliance under strain. Before examining those details, it is worth recalling how this relationship grew, and why. Today, 7.5 million Jews live in the United States and 7.2 million in Israel, together comprising more than 95% of the world’s 15.8 million Jews. American Jews are distinguished not only by economic success but by an extraordinary record of scientific achievement – a factor arguably more valuable to Israel than mere financial clout.
Since the Nobel Prizes began in 1903, 216 Jews have won: 37 in chemistry, 38 in economics, 16 in literature, 56 in physics, nine in peace, and 60 in medicine. This is a staggering record for a people who represent just 0.2% of the global population, a level of intellectual distinction more than a hundred times their demographic weight.
Waves of Jewish migration during the turmoil of the 20th century helped shape this reality. Roughly three million Jews left Europe during World War I and World War II, with 1.5 million heading to Israel, about half a million to the United States, and the rest to Britain, Canada, and Australia. Many who chose America came from Israel, Russia, Ukraine, and Britain, and though they faced barriers at elite universities such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, they excelled at top Midwestern schools like Michigan, Illinois, and Chicago, driving advances in economics and the sciences.
Those who went to America were generally less Zionist than those who chose Israel, arriving under different political and economic circumstances. Despite US recognition of Israel in 1948, the alliance between the two nations was not immediate. In the 1956 Suez Crisis, US president Dwight Eisenhower pressured Britain, France, and Israel to withdraw from Egypt, even selling British treasury bonds to force compliance. Israel, nevertheless, leveraged the war to secure French support for its nascent nuclear program, a project championed by Shimon Peres.
True strategic alignment with Washington emerged only after the 1967 Six Day War, when Israel’s stunning military victory over Egypt, Syria, and Jordan revealed its regional power and Cold War utility. American policymakers saw a reliable partner as British and French influence waned. For Jews in the United States, Israel’s triumph restored pride long suppressed by the Holocaust and the trauma of wartime submission.
The October 1973 war deepened the bond. This time, Israeli jets and tanks were American-made, and president Richard Nixon launched an airlift to resupply the IDF while secretary of state Henry Kissinger, himself a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, mediated a ceasefire.
From that point on, Israel functioned as a key American outpost: first to contain Soviet influence, later to counter Iran and Islamic extremism. The partnership even extended to joint operations under US President Donald Trump, targeting Iranian nuclear sites.
But Israel’s ongoing assault on Gaza, with its heavy civilian toll, has shaken American public opinion. The Economist, hardly a publication known for pro-Palestinian sentiment, now warns that Israel’s actions are endangering both its own security and the Jewish people’s global standing. The magazine mocks Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s boast – made during a visit to the Western Wall with US Secretary of State Marco Rubio – that the alliance is “as strong as the stones of the Wall,” noting the cracks that Netanyahu refuses to see.
Polling reveals a sharp erosion in American support: the share of Americans opposing Israeli policy has risen from 42% in 2022 to 53% today, with 43% describing Israel’s campaign in Gaza as genocide. Among Democrats over 50, opposition has jumped 23 points in three years; among Republicans under 50, support for Israel has fallen to parity with pro-Palestinian sentiment, down from 63% in 2022. Even among young Evangelicals, long a bedrock of pro-Israel sentiment, support has collapsed from 69% in 2018 to 34% in 2021.
These shifts are already influencing politics. Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene – once a hard-Right defender of Israel who sought to expel Muslim congressional representatives Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib for swearing their oaths on the Koran – has broken ranks, condemning the bombing of Gaza and arguing that Palestinians cannot be collectively punished for Hamas’s actions. She likened their suffering to how Americans would feel if their own cities were bombed while the world looked away.
Her stance, shared by Trump allies Steve Bannon and Tucker Carlson, frames unconditional support for Israel as incompatible with putting “America First.” Vice President JD Vance recently canceled a planned visit to Israel, citing domestic priorities, even after his armored car had arrived at Tel Aviv airport.
Yet the Republican establishment remains staunchly pro-Israel. House Speaker Mike Johnson recently visited Israeli settlements; Senator Lindsey Graham insists that withdrawing support would forfeit divine blessing; and US Ambassador to Tel Aviv Michael Huckabee openly longs for all Jews to return to Israel to hasten the Second Coming and their conversion to Christianity.
Against this backdrop, The Economist warns that the alliance is fraying. Its striking cover is more than a clever design – it is a cautionary signal to Israel that the political and moral ground beneath this once unshakable partnership is beginning to crumble. – Hamed Al-Hamoud
Danger of using religious language in political debates
Al-Ittihad, United Arab Emirates, September 28
On September 10, conservative Republican activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated while delivering a lecture on a college campus in Utah, and the reactions to his death exposed the raw and dangerous divisions within American society. Even many critics of Kirk’s hardline positions on race and gender expressed basic respect for his life despite their profound disagreements, only to be harassed and intimidated online by his most extreme supporters.
Yet what is even more troubling is the almost reverential language many of those supporters have adopted, praising him in overtly religious – specifically Christian – terms. One conservative Catholic cardinal went so far as to call Kirk an “evangelist” and an “apostle,” likening him to Saint Paul. Others have accused his critics of “defamation of religion” or even “sacrilege,” as if questioning Kirk were tantamount to blaspheming God.
My deepest concern is not merely that I reject Kirk’s views – though I categorically do. I repudiate his statements about the supposed inferiority or unreliability of blacks, Muslims, and Jews; his calls for women to submit to men, and much else besides. What alarms me most is the dangerous misuse of religious language by those who idolize him. Terms like “blasphemy” and “sacrilege” have precise theological meanings, referring to acts that insult God or desecrate the sacred.
Kirk was not a religious figure, and simply sprinkling his rhetoric with biblical references did not make his politics a divine message. In everyday life, we routinely use – and abuse – religious language for emotional effect, exclaiming “Oh my God” when we stub a toe or blurting out “Jesus Christ” in shock or frustration. These phrases are not confessions of faith; they are cultural expressions of anger, surprise, or excitement. Political movements exploit this same emotional power when they wrap their agendas in sacred language, as Christian nationalists – and their Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Buddhist counterparts – so often do.
By portraying opponents as “infidels,” they pretend their ideology reflects God’s will when it is merely their own convictions masquerading as divine truth. This is not a new phenomenon, but it is growing more serious. In the 1960s, Americans clashed bitterly over war and civil rights, and religious leaders stood on every side.
The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference led peaceful civil rights protests rooted in faith, while white Southern preachers invoked God’s punishment of the “sons of Ham” to defend segregation. Cardinal Francis Spellman traveled to Vietnam to bless American soldiers fighting “godless communism,” while Jesuit priest Daniel Berrigan led anti-war protests that resulted in repeated arrests, including for burning draft files.
Yet during that era, the media did not label segregationists or civil rights activists, hawks or doves, as “Christian leaders,” nor did Americans feel compelled to debate which side represented “true Christianity.” We judged them by their actions – whether they fought for or against civil rights, for or against the war – rather than by their religious vocabulary.
We seemed to understand, even if only implicitly, that invoking God to justify political behavior does not make that behavior religious, nor does it define the faith it claims to represent. – James Zogby
Who asked Hezbollah to hand over weapons to Israel?
Nida Al Watan, Lebanon, September 28
Has anyone demanded that Hezbollah hand over its weapons to Israel? Yesterday, Hezbollah Secretary-General Sheikh Naim Qassem claimed as much in a speech marking the first anniversary of the assassination of former Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah and his successor Hashem Safieddine.
Qassem attributed the demand to “some Europeans or some of the major powers who are speaking to us,” though he conspicuously refused to name these countries. Why the secrecy? Certainly, the Lebanese government bears no responsibility for what Qassem described as a call to “surrender to Israel,” yet rather than admit that fact, he lashed out, accusing it of sin for deciding to disarm the Resistance and urging it to “correct this sin.”
If we were to list every distortion in Qassem’s speech, there would be no room to print them all. Consider his invocation of the Taif Agreement, which he claimed mandates “liberating Lebanon from the Israeli occupation and taking all necessary measures, including seeking assistance from the Resistance.” If the Taif Agreement could speak, it might well protest, “I am innocent of what Qassem claims in my name.”
Qassem’s remarks undermined any attempt to craft a Lebanese solution capable of restoring the country to normalcy – a solution anchored in the government’s August 5 and 7 decisions, reaffirmed on September 5, which call for the exclusive possession of weapons by the state. Notably, Qassem’s speech, which proclaimed absolute loyalty to Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, made no mention of loyalty to Lebanon itself, as if to ask which “state” could possibly demand that Hezbollah surrender its arsenal.
He even implicated Israel in the disarmament debate, a claim delivered the day after Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu addressed the UN General Assembly. Netanyahu boasted of crippling Hezbollah, eliminating much of its leadership and arsenal, and declared that peace between Israel and Lebanon was within reach if Beirut took real action to disarm the group.
“If Lebanon takes real and sustained action to disarm Hezbollah, I am confident that we can achieve a lasting peace,” Netanyahu said, while affirming that until such action occurs, Israel will defend itself and enforce the ceasefire.
Netanyahu’s statement revealed a striking paradox: though he insisted the decision rests with Lebanon, he agreed with Qassem that Hezbollah’s weapons are at the heart of the Lebanese crisis and that peace cannot be achieved while they remain.
Qassem’s anniversary speech revealed a militia operating outside the Lebanese state and hinted at a scenario in which Hezbollah and its Iranian sponsor might strike a deal with Israel – one that would treat the militia, not the government in Beirut, as the primary interlocutor on border security. This would mirror the period after the 2006 war, when Hezbollah effectively assumed responsibility for the southern frontier until October 8, 2023, when Nasrallah launched his “support war” against Israel.
The maritime demarcation agreement, once touted by Nasrallah as a historic breakthrough for Lebanon’s economy, now looks like a prelude to further entanglement, as he ultimately endorsed everything it produced. Talk of a grand bargain may sound fanciful, but recent events suggest that Hezbollah and Tehran are behaving as if such a deal belongs to the realm of the possible.
The danger lies in the Lebanese state itself, whose government has only recently shown signs of reclaiming authority after decades of paralysis, yet whose institutions still seem more inclined toward fantasy than reality. Will Hezbollah and Iran pursue an arrangement with Israel, even after another round of violence like that of September 2024?
Nothing can be ruled out when a militia sustained by Iran is willing to sacrifice the sovereignty of the Lebanese state to secure its own survival. – Ahmed Ayash
Translated by Asaf Zilberfarb. All assertions, opinions, facts, and information presented in these articles are the sole responsibility of their respective authors and are not necessarily those of The Media Line, which assumes no responsibility for their content.