Loading...
Loading...
Story
On the morning of June 1, 2025, the very site promised as a lifeline for Gaza’s starving civilians became a graveyard. In Tel al-Sultan, Rafah, over 220 Palestinians were either killed or injured when Israeli forces opened fire on thousands awaiting humanitarian aid, an event chillingly reminiscent of previous massacres in besieged enclaves. Eyewitnesses describe the attack as deliberate, calculated, and disguised under the veneer of "humanitarian coordination." According to Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor, the attack unfolded at dawn after Israeli forces, with cooperation from a US-backed organization, instructed civilians to gather near inspection gates to receive aid. Quadcopter drones issued warnings, only to later unleash bullets on the crowd. Moments later, tank shelling and tear gas plunged the area into chaos and death. The official toll—31 dead and over 200 injured—is likely an undercount as many remain missing and local hospitals lie in ruins under continued siege. This is not an isolated incident. It is the latest episode in a pattern where hunger is weaponized and aid becomes bait. Witnesses spoke of limited aid supplies, chaotic distribution with no safety or organization, and recurring episodes of military violence during these distributions. Desperate crowds, including women and children, are forced to return each day in the hope of survival, knowing they might be met with bullets instead of bread. The cynical orchestration of such events raises grave questions about the role of so-called humanitarian actors complicit in these deadly distributions. When an aid center becomes the site of a massacre—when people are corralled, starved, misled, and slaughtered—can we still call this “aid”? Or is it a form of psychological and physical warfare masquerading as relief? Weaponizing Humanitarianism: What happened in Rafah exposes a far more disturbing paradigm: the weaponization of humanitarian aid. Instructing civilians to gather in predictable, overcrowded spaces under military surveillance, only to unleash violence, is not a miscalculation. It's a tactic. The involvement of a US-backed organization in enforcing this system introduces profound moral and legal culpability. Tear gas fired into a starving crowd? Only eight pallets of food for tens of thousands? Airdropped aid used to manufacture photo ops while hospitals are bombed? These are not acts of compassion—they are acts of calculated cruelty. And yet, global headlines continue to shy away from using the word that would be instantly applied had the roles been reversed: terrorism. The Terrorism Double Standard: When civilians are deliberately targeted, when fear is weaponized, and when violence is used to influence or punish a civilian population—it fits every definition of terrorism under international law. Yet, states and powerful militaries often escape this label. It is reserved almost exclusively for non-state actors, and overwhelmingly for Muslims. The word terrorist has become politically constructed and racially coded. It’s a term strategically used to criminalize resistance, delegitimize suffering, and shield powerful perpetrators from accountability. A Palestinian child with a rock can be branded a terrorist. But a state deploying drones, tanks, and white phosphorus on refugee camps is defended as “exercising its right to self-defense.” This selective morality is not accidental. It is a feature of the international order that continues to dehumanize Palestinians and delegitimize their suffering. The World Must Wake Up: What happened in Rafah is not a misstep or a tragedy—it is a war crime. It demands more than UN statements and cautious diplomatic language. The international community must call things by their names and hold all perpetrators accountable, regardless of their flags. If humanitarian aid becomes a pretext for massacre, and if starvation becomes a tool of control, we are not dealing with a conflict—we are witnessing the systematic dismantling of a people. Silence now is complicity.
By Mazhar | April 19, 2025 In an ironic twist that reflects the growing imbalance of religious freedoms, Hindus around the world enjoy unprecedented liberty to practice and celebrate their faith in Christian-majority countries, while in India—a nation founded on secular principles—Christians increasingly find their religious rights under siege. The most recent flashpoint is the Delhi Police’s refusal to permit a Palm Sunday procession by the Catholic Association of the Archdiocese of Delhi (CAAD). The annual Way of the Cross, a sacred and peaceful Christian observance commemorating the suffering and crucifixion of Jesus Christ, was denied permission just one day before the event. The cited reasons? Vague "law and order" concerns and traffic disruption due to a cricket match. For India’s Christian community, the message was clear: their religious practices are expendable. The Global Contrast: Compare this to scenes across London, New York, Toronto, or Melbourne—cities where Hindu festivals like Diwali, Holi, and even religious processions are not only tolerated but enthusiastically supported by local authorities. Roads are blocked for Diwali parades, fireworks are permitted, and public squares glow with diyas and colorful decorations. Politicians and mayors often participate in these events, honoring the values of diversity and inclusion. Hindu temples across the West operate freely, many with state-of-the-art architecture and generous community backing. Interfaith dialogues welcome Hindu leaders as respected voices. School children in countries like the UK learn about Hinduism as part of cultural literacy and pluralism. These same freedoms are embraced by Sikhs, Muslims, Jews, and Buddhists—because democratic societies recognize the strength of diversity. Yet in India, the birthplace of Hinduism and a multi-religious democracy, the story is alarmingly reversed when it comes to minorities like Christians and Muslims. Palm Sunday Denial: A Symptom of a Larger Problem: The denial of the Palm Sunday procession is not an isolated incident. It fits a broader trend of systemic marginalization. Christian processions, prayer meetings, and community events are frequently scrutinized, obstructed, or outright banned—often under flimsy pretexts of "conversion" or "security." A.C. Michael, President of CAAD, condemned the decision, pointing out that “the same police granted permission to another Christian group for a different Palm Sunday procession.” The inconsistency smacks of bias, suggesting that not all Christian groups are treated equally—and some are more policed than others. Meanwhile, organizations aligned with Hindutva ideologies roam freely, organizing large public events, inciting communal rhetoric, and even staging aggressive rallies under the pretext of cultural pride. Rarely do these events face the kind of bureaucratic and legal hurdles that Christian observances are subject to. The Politics of Persecution: Elias Vas, President of the All India Catholic Union, highlighted the rise in anti-Christian violence—cases increasing from around 100 annually before 2014 to nearly 800 today. “No one has ever been found guilty of forceful conversion, but we’re still attacked daily on that basis,” he said. This persecution has coincided with the consolidation of Hindu nationalist politics, where minorities are portrayed as "outsiders" or threats to Indian culture. Ironically, those very same political forces maintain diplomatic ties and attend religious functions abroad, where Hinduism is not just accepted but celebrated in Christian-majority societies. The contradiction is glaring: Hinduism thrives under secular democracies, while the same principles are being steadily eroded in India. The Double Standard: This stark disparity between how Hindus are treated abroad and how Christians are treated in India raises difficult questions. Why is a religion that enjoys so much protection overseas unable—or unwilling—to extend the same courtesy to its minorities at home? Why are Indians of Christian and Muslim faith increasingly treated with suspicion, policed in their worship, and denied basic constitutional rights? Hindu communities in the West have not just survived—they’ve flourished. They’ve built temples, schools, community centers, and earned respect for their contributions to society. Christians in India, by contrast, are facing an environment where even organizing a peaceful procession is considered a threat. This is not about religious superiority or inferiority. It's about equity, dignity, and justice.
West Bengal – April 19, 2025 On the morning of April 3, 2025, 24-year-old Jahanur Haque, a Muslim farmer and migrant laborer from Bhoram Payasti village in West Bengal’s Cooch Behar district, left home to water his crops. He never returned. Hours later, his bullet-ridden body lay cold and lifeless near the Indo-Bangladesh border, as his family and villagers were kept away at gunpoint by the very force meant to protect them—the Border Security Force (BSF). According to eyewitnesses and a formal complaint submitted to the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC), what happened next was not a tragic accident, but a targeted execution. Haque was allegedly stripped by BSF personnel near Border Pillar No. 929 to determine his religion. Upon confirming that he was Muslim, they reportedly began beating him. Company Commander Balwant, identified in the complaint, allegedly pushed Haque to the ground, stood on his chest, and fired a bullet into his lower torso. A second BSF jawan reportedly shot him in the head, killing him on the spot. His body, according to witnesses and family members, was left in the open for nearly six hours—denied dignity in death just as he had been denied justice in life. The Anatomy of State Terror: The BSF, whose mandate is to secure India’s borders, has long been accused of operating with impunity in rural, often marginalized, regions. But the execution-style killing of a young Muslim farmer—unarmed, non-confrontational, and alone—lays bare the disturbing reality of state violence in modern India. When state actors begin profiling citizens by religion, and act as judge, jury, and executioner, it is not law enforcement. It is terrorism—sanctioned, institutionalized, and normalized. The force justified the killing by branding Haque a “smuggler,” a common post-facto accusation deployed to deflect scrutiny. Yet no credible investigation has followed, and no proof has been presented to substantiate that claim. No arrest has been made. No suspension ordered. Only silence—and bureaucratic indifference. The police registered a case under Section 103(1) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita. An Unnatural Death case was also filed. But these steps, devoid of urgency or sincerity, serve more to pacify than to pursue justice. The autopsy, when it did take place, failed to examine Haque’s skull—despite a visible bullet wound above the eyebrow. Whether this was incompetence or a deliberate attempt to obscure the truth, the outcome is the same: a mother is left with questions, and a country with blood on its hands. A Family Forgotten: Jahanur Haque’s family lives below the poverty line, surviving on less than ₹4,000 a month. Since the killing, they have received no state assistance, legal aid, or acknowledgment from political leaders. His mother, Rina Bibi, filed a complaint the same day—only to be met with silence. They are not just battling grief, but a system that devalues their life, their faith, and their rights. This is what systemic abandonment looks like. This is how state terror works—not just through bullets, but through silence. When the State Becomes the Threat In regions like Cooch Behar, where border tensions are often high, the militarization of civilian life has created a shadow state—one where accountability is a distant dream and terror is delivered in uniform. The BSF, shielded by legal loopholes and political silence, has morphed from a protective force into an instrument of fear. Jahanur Haque’s killing is not an isolated incident. It is part of a growing pattern where Muslims, particularly in rural or border regions, are disproportionately targeted—often accused, rarely tried, and frequently killed without consequence. This is state terrorism. It may not wear the mask of an insurgent, but it wields the same tools: fear, force, and faith-based targeting. A Nation at a Crossroads: India stands at a dangerous juncture. When the state itself becomes a perpetrator of communal violence, cloaked in national security narratives, the moral fabric of democracy begins to tear. It is not just Haque who was killed that morning—it is the promise of justice, the rule of law, and the idea of equal citizenship that took a bullet to the head. The silence from political leaders is deafening. The absence of outrage in national discourse is chilling. And the slow drip of normalization—where Muslim deaths in custody, on the streets, and at the border elicit little more than passing mention—may be the most dangerous form of violence yet. Because when terror comes not from the margins, but from the center—when it wears khaki instead of camouflage, and chants slogans instead of firing salvos—then we are not fighting an enemy of the state. The state is the enemy.
Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh – April 19, 2025 In a harrowing reminder of rising communal intolerance, a 13-year-old Muslim boy in Kanpur was brutally stabbed by a group of minors for allegedly refusing to chant “Jai Shri Ram.” The attack, which occurred late Thursday night in the Sarsaul area under Maharajpur police jurisdiction, adds yet another disturbing chapter to India’s growing tide of hate crimes cloaked in religious nationalism. According to police reports and a formal complaint lodged by the victim’s grandfather, the boy was walking toward a nearby bus stop when he was cornered by three local minors, reportedly accompanied by two more. The group demanded that the boy bow to them and touch their feet. When he resisted, they escalated their demands—this time insisting he chant the Hindu religious slogan “Jai Shri Ram.” The boy’s refusal to comply with the forced religious utterance led to violence. One of the accused reportedly broke a glass bottle and stabbed the child in the leg. Bleeding and in shock, the young boy managed to make his way home and recount the traumatic experience to his family. This is not an isolated incident. In his statement to the police, the boy revealed a pattern of harassment—frequent run-ins with similar hate-fueled intimidation by local groups. His story is just one of many emerging from regions where the normalization of aggressive Hindutva ideology has taken root, especially targeting young, vulnerable members of minority communities. Authorities have registered a case under relevant sections of the Indian Penal Code, and investigations are currently underway. While local police have promised action, skepticism remains over accountability in a state where political and social structures often embolden such behavior.
Language is a powerful tool that can either uplift or harm individuals and communities. In recent years, conversations around racial slurs and derogatory language have gained significant attention. One area that still requires more awareness is the use of Asian slurs—derogatory terms aimed at individuals of Asian descent. Understanding the history, impact, and ways to combat these slurs is crucial for fostering a more inclusive and respectful society. The History Behind Asian Slurs: Many Asian slurs stem from historical events, colonialism, and stereotypes that have persisted over time. These words were often used to dehumanize or demean Asian communities, reinforcing racist ideologies. Some slurs originated from war times when soldiers used derogatory terms to describe their adversaries, while others emerged from economic, social, or immigration-related tensions. Regardless of their origins, these slurs have long been used to marginalize and oppress Asian individuals and communities. The Harmful Impact of Asian Slurs: The use of racial slurs is not merely a matter of words—it has profound psychological, emotional, and social effects. Here’s how Asian slurs can impact individuals and communities: Psychological Harm: Being subjected to racial slurs can lead to anxiety, depression, and feelings of alienation. It reinforces a sense of being unwelcome or "othered" in society. Normalization of Racism: When slurs become common in everyday language, they contribute to the normalization of racism, making discrimination appear more acceptable. Perpetuation of Stereotypes: Many slurs are tied to harmful stereotypes, such as the "perpetual foreigner" trope or the "model minority" myth. These stereotypes strip individuals of their unique identities and place unfair expectations upon them. Encouragement of Violence: Dehumanizing language can lead to increased hate crimes and acts of violence against Asian communities, as seen in the rise of anti-Asian attacks in recent years. Addressing and Combating Asian Slurs: It is everyone’s responsibility to challenge racism and work towards an inclusive society. Here are some ways to address and combat the use of Asian slurs: Education and Awareness: Schools, workplaces, and social institutions should educate people about the history and impact of racial slurs. Teaching cultural sensitivity from an early age helps prevent ignorance-driven discrimination. Calling Out Racism: If you hear someone using an Asian slur, challenge them respectfully. Many people use offensive language without fully understanding its impact. Having conversations can lead to awareness and change. Media Representation: The entertainment industry should work towards accurate and respectful portrayals of Asian communities. Negative or stereotypical representations often reinforce slurs and discriminatory attitudes. Support for Affected Individuals: If someone has been targeted by racial slurs, offer support and stand in solidarity with them. Creating safe spaces for discussion and healing is vital. Policy and Legal Actions: Governments and organizations should implement stricter policies against hate speech and racial discrimination. Holding perpetrators accountable can discourage the use of derogatory language.
Marine ecosystems are shaped by the interactions between many species in the ocean, which is a huge and complex web of ecological relationships. The link between stingrays and squids is one of the most intriguing of these interactions. Their connections through competition, predation, and common habitats are important to the marine food chain even though they do not have a direct symbiotic relationship. Predation and Competition: Although both stingrays and squids are carnivorous, they eat quite different things. While stingrays consume bottom-dwelling creatures including mollusks, small fish, and crustaceans, squids mostly hunt small fish, crabs, and other cephalopods. Some larger stingray species, such eagle rays, are occasionally predators of these soft-bodied cephalopods, albeit they may eat squids when the chance presents itself. However, it has been seen that stingrays and squids, especially large species like the Humboldt squid, fight for food supplies. In their common habitats, both species engage in indirect competition by hunting small fish and crustaceans. Shared Habitats: The habitats of stingrays and squids frequently overlap, particularly in deep-sea and coastal areas. While stingrays are typically found close to the seabed, squids can be found at a variety of depths, from shallow waters to the deep ocean. Where there is a lot of prey, such coral reefs, estuaries, and continental shelves, they interact the most. Role in the Food Chain Both squids and stingrays serve as crucial links in the marine food chain. Squids are a primary food source for many larger predators, including sharks, whales, and larger fish. Similarly, stingrays are preyed upon by sharks and other large marine animals. Their respective positions in the food chain influence predator-prey dynamics and help maintain ecosystem balance. Ecological Impact and Conservation Both squid and stingray populations are fluctuating as a result of overfishing and environmental changes. Pollution, habitat loss, and climate change all endanger marine biodiversity and have an effect on how it interacts. Developing conservation plans to save these important marine animals can be aided by an understanding of their ecological roles.