Drones, arms smuggling and Bedouin cartels have turned Israel’s border with Egypt into a gray zone where internal and external security collide
“Where is the government?” cried Eran Doron, head of the Ramat Negev Regional Council. “Residents of the Negev hear gunfire daily from nearby communities.” But the gunfire is only part of the picture. Drones, arms smuggling and Bedouin cartels have turned Israel’s border with Egypt into a twilight zone where domestic and national security intertwine.
At a recent meeting of the Knesset Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee, lawmakers were warned of a new dimension of threat: drones being smuggled across the Egyptian border at what officials described as “assembly-line speed.” Kadesh Barnea’s civilian security coordinator, Annan Sion, reported that during the Rosh Hashanah holiday alone, roughly 550 drones entered his sector — more than 100 per day. If the kite terrorism once plaguing the Gaza border was a nuisance, the drone threat has now become a systemic danger. Yet, as this threat evolves, the government’s response is lagging behind.
The border between Israel and Egypt
(Photo: AP Photo/Leo Correa)
During the session, both lawmakers and local residents sharply criticized the national security apparatus, accusing it of shirking responsibility. The Shin Bet, IDF and police were said to be passing the issue between them, while well-equipped Bedouin cartels continue operating freely. Residents described having to chase smugglers using gear they purchased with their own money, and called on the government to supply resources and strengthen communities along the border.
Eyal, a longtime resident of Ezuz, shared a deeply personal example of the blurred line between criminal and security threats. His 10-year-old daughter was raped in 2020 by a man from the Bedouin town of Bir Hadaj. The perpetrator, since convicted and released from prison, is now free — and his brother is the driver of the school bus his daughter takes every day. “This is the reality I have to live with,” Eyal said, his voice heavy with emotion. The failure, it seems, is not just one of security — but of morality and national policy.
Israel’s border with Egypt stretches about 245 kilometers (152 miles). At its northern point near Kerem Shalom, three geopolitical entities converge — Israel, Egypt and the Gaza Strip — forming a zone of high strategic importance marked by smuggling, infiltration attempts, and security coordination between Israel and Egypt. In the south, the border ends at the Israel-Egypt-Jordan tri-border point near Eilat and Taba.
For the small communities living along this frontier, the border isn’t a line on a map — it’s a lifeline. It is their daily reality, a balance between pioneering spirit and looming threat, where a handful of residents safeguard the sovereignty of the entire nation.
At the heart of the border region are just five small communities — Kadesh Barnea, Ezuz, Kmehin, Be’er Milka and Nitzana — home to about 150 families. They grow tomatoes, peppers and herbs using advanced agricultural technology and run guesthouses and tourism ventures in the middle of the desert.
Kadesh Barnea has about 42 families, Ezuz 17, Kmehin 35, Be’er Milka 30 and Nitzana 24. This frontier settlement project is part of David Ben-Gurion’s legacy. In Nitzana in particular, there is potential to showcase the best face of Israel — community resilience, agricultural innovation, eco-tourism and educational development. Strengthening these communities means more than supporting their residents — it means securing Israel’s southern border.
The fight for Negev security is a fight for Israeli sovereignty. Bolstering the Nitzana frontier is not just about local survival — it’s about national strength.
Joining Macron in this narcissistic display were other small, soft leaders with large, hard Islamist constituencies -- Britain's PM Keir Starmer, Australia's PM Anthony Albanese, and Canada's PM Mark Carney -- who followed Macron's lead in granting international legitimacy to a cause dedicated to terrorism.
Macron did not even have the
decency to make his recognition of a non-existent Palestinian state
contingent on Hamas releasing the hostages.
Joining Macron in this narcissistic display were other small,
soft leaders with large, hard Islamist constituencies -- Britain's PM
Keir Starmer, Australia's PM Anthony Albanese, and Canada's PM Mark
Carney -- who followed Macron's lead in granting international
legitimacy to a cause dedicated to terrorism.
The Palestinian Authority continues to operate as an unelected
dictatorship, funneling millions into its infamous pay-for-slay "jobs"
program -- sometimes listed as "welfare" -- which grants salaries to
terrorists and their families based on how many Jews they succeed in
murdering. The more Jews they murder, the higher the monthly stipend.
Palestinian schoolbooks still erase Israel from maps, depict Jews as
usurpers, and teach children that the ultimate aspiration is martyrdom.
Macron's recognition, applauded by large sections of Europe and
beyond, was not the action of a statesman seeking peace. It was a
pitiful lunge to hold onto power by a weakened leader, desperate to
posture as a "moral arbiter" abroad while avoiding accountability at
home. Macron is willing to betray the Israelis, who are fighting not
only for the West but for his own people, the French.
After France's defeat at the hands of Germany in 1940 came
collaboration. France's Vichy regime did not merely submit to German
edicts; it embraced its own homegrown antisemitism. Vichy's machinery
operated with bureaucratic zeal: statutes defining who was a Jew, the
exclusion of Jews from professions, property seizures, internments, and
ultimately deportations to Auschwitz. The cultivated myth of a France
"shielding" Jews while Germany did the harm has long since been
demolished by the historical record. Vichy was a French government,
enacting French laws to persecute Jews on French soil, and in too many
instances, to deliver them to their deaths.
The moral cost was enormous. By making stability the overriding
priority, French authorities tacitly normalized contact with
organizations that targeted Jews and Israelis. These back-channel
accommodations blurred the line between counterterrorism and collusion —
and served as an early modern example of a recurring French pattern:
When domestic tranquility and influence in the Arab world collide with
the safety and security of Jews, the balance is often struck in favor of
tranquility.
President Chirac, during a visit to Israel in October 1996,
erupted at what he called a "provocation" by Israeli plainclothes
security guards during a walk in the Old City of Jerusalem — an incident
that became emblematic of Paris's sensitivity to perceived Israeli
slights and a readiness to dramatize grievances that resonated with the
Arab and Muslim public. Whether the outburst was theatre or genuine
indignation, it fed a narrative: France would hold Israel to scrutiny in
a way that sometimes felt public and punitive, while remaining
discreet, conciliatory, or accommodating toward Arab regimes.
[H]ow come, if Mohammad al-Durrah was shot, there was no blood at
the scene? The controversy led to libel suits, heated media debates in
France, and a long war of narratives: for many critics, the al-Durrah
case became a test of whether French media could be trusted to report
dispassionately on Palestine-Israel — or whether powerful images
produced abroad would be turned into instruments of political
mobilization at home.
For decades, the front pages of Le Monde, Libération, and Le Monde Diplomatique
have provided disproportionate framing that vilifies Israel while
sanitizing Palestinian violence. Headlines portraying Israeli
counter-terrorism as "aggression," while minimizing rocket fire or
suicide bombings, have shaped French public opinion, sometimes more
decisively than presidential speeches.
The effect of this editorial slant is cumulative: each cover,
each op-ed, each biased image is built into a narrative architecture in
which Israel stands as the perennial aggressor and Palestinians as the
archetypal victims. This distortion is not merely academic. It affects
political choices, emboldens intellectuals who conflate anti-Zionism
with moral virtue, and reinforces a climate where politicians know they
can score points by signaling distance from Jerusalem. In the long run,
media coverage has hardened the double standard and provided cultural
cover for diplomatic betrayals.
The 21st century has added a more transactional layer to France's
Arab policy: investment in the French economy. Few states have invested
more aggressively in French assets and businesses than Qatar. The
oil-rich emirate poured billions into Parisian real estate, media
holdings, luxury firms, and sports franchises. The purchase of Paris
Saint-Germain football team became a symbol of how deeply Qatari capital
has embedded itself into French public life. Alongside investment came
soft power: television channels, think tanks, and influence campaigns
aimed at projecting Doha's narratives into French discourse.
Qatar's record is not benign. For years it has financed Hamas and
sheltered its leadership. That France tolerated -- even courted --
Qatar despite these links testifies to a familiar pattern: geopolitical
expediency trumping moral clarity.
Macron's post on X insisted on conditionality (Hamas must
relinquish control and the Palestinian Authority must reform), yet those
conditions remain unenforceable in practice. A state without concrete
guarantees risks rewarding the very actors — such as Hamas and its
patrons — who use terrorism as a policy. Macron's declaration looks less
like statesmanship and more like firing blanks: a symbolic attempt at
appeasement to placate vocal constituencies at home and reclaim the
moral high ground abroad by offering up a state that someone else -- a
sovereign nation, far away -- is supposed to implement, while offering
Israel and the United States nothing at all.
Domestically, Macron's maneuver landed poorly. Multiple polls
indicate that a large majority of the French public — roughly
three-quarters — opposed immediate, unconditional recognition of a
"Palestine" while Israeli hostages remained in Gaza or while Hamas
remained in power. The disconnect between Macron and his electorate is
striking. While he sought applause abroad, he was being widely perceived
at home as indulging in moral posturing that had little chance of
delivering peace and a lot of chance of making matters worse.
French President Emmanuel Macron's recognition of the
non-existent state of "Palestine", applauded by large sections of Europe
and beyond, was not the action of a statesman seeking peace. It was a
pitiful lunge to hold onto power by a weakened leader, desperate to
posture as a "moral arbiter" abroad while avoiding accountability at
home. Macron is willing to betray the Israelis, who are fighting not
only for the West but for his own people, the French. Pictured: Macron
(center), Britain's Prime Minister Keir Starmer (left) and Turkey's
President Recep Tayyip Erdogan at a summit meeting in Sharm el-Sheikh,
Egypt, on October 13, 2025. (Photo by Suzanne Plunkett/Pool/AFP via
Getty Images)
On the eve of the Jewish New Year, when families across the world
were preparing to celebrate renewal and resilience, French President
Emmanuel Macron chose a different symbol.
He formally recognized, at the United Nations on September 23, a
so-called Palestinian state -- an act that emboldened Hamas, even as the
20 Israeli hostages still believed to be alive remained starved,
tortured, and trapped in its tunnels in Gaza. Macron did not even have
the decency to make his recognition of a non-existent Palestinian state
contingent on Hamas releasing the hostages.
Joining Macron in this narcissistic display were other small, soft
leaders with large, hard Islamist constituencies -- Britain's PM Keir
Starmer, Australia's PM Anthony Albanese, and Canada's PM Mark Carney --
who followed Macron's lead in granting international legitimacy to a
cause dedicated to terrorism.
The timing could hardly have been more cynical.
It trampled on the dignity of the hostages and their families, and
rewarded forces that glorify conquest and bloodshed, also in the West.
The Palestinian Authority
continues to operate as an unelected dictatorship, funneling millions
into its infamous pay-for-slay "jobs" program -- sometimes listed as "welfare"
-- which grants salaries to terrorists and their families based on how
many Jews they succeed in murdering. The more Jews they murder, the
higher the monthly stipend. Palestinian schoolbooks still erase Israel
from maps, depict Jews as usurpers, and teach children that the ultimate
aspiration is martyrdom.
Macron's recognition, applauded by large sections of Europe and
beyond, was not the action of a statesman seeking peace. It was a
pitiful lunge to hold onto power by a weakened leader, desperate to
posture as a "moral arbiter" abroad while avoiding accountability at
home. Macron is willing to betray the Israelis, who are fighting not
only for the West but for his own people, the French.
The great French leader Charles Martel, who repelled the Muslims
trying to conquer France at Tours in the year 732, would probably die
again from disgust.
Macron's calculation is transparent: appease an increasingly
assertive Muslim electorate, cater to progressive elites, and hope that
an international gesture will distract the French public from his
collapsing domestic authority.
This is not the first time, in moments of moral testing, that France
has betrayed its own ideals. Not long ago, France surrendered to Hitler
and lived under the Third Reich's collaborationist government in France,
Vichy.
The very nation that proclaims itself the cradle of the Rights of Man
has a long and extremely questionable record when it comes to Jews and,
later, the Jewish state. From the anti-Semitic hysteria of the Dreyfus
Affair to the anti-Israel rhetoric of Charles de Gaulle, from France's
protection of the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Amin al-Husseini after World
War II, to its welcoming of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini on the eve of
Iran's Islamic Revolution, Paris has repeatedly oscillated between lofty
universalist proclamations and sordid accommodations.
France's stance today under Macron is not an aberration. It is the latest chapter in a long history of ambiguous
— and often duplicitous — policies toward the Jewish people and the
State of Israel. To understand this trajectory, one must begin at the
very moment when modern political Zionism was born: the Dreyfus Affair,
in the heart of Paris.
I. Dreyfus as the Matrix: The Birth of Modern Political Zionism
In 1894, Captain Alfred Dreyfus, a Jewish officer in the French Army,
was falsely accused of treason. The ensuing scandal tore French society
apart, dividing the country into two camps: the anti-Dreyfusards,
steeped in anti-Semitic conspiracy theories, and the defenders of
Dreyfus, who rallied behind principles of evidence, justice, and
equality before the law.
The hysteria was not confined to the courtroom. French newspapers
spread venomous caricatures portraying Jews as traitors, parasites, and
alien intruders within the French body politic. Crowds chanted "Death to the Jews" in the streets of Paris.
For many, the case was not about one officer's guilt or innocence—it was about the place of Jews in France itself.
One man observing this tragedy with particular intensity was Theodor
Herzl, a Jewish Viennese journalist covering the trial. Herzl had once
believed in the promise of European liberalism, convinced that Jews
could assimilate fully within modern nation-states. Yet in Paris he
witnessed the fragility of that dream. If antisemitism could erupt with
such virulence in the land of Voltaire (who, sadly, was himself a
venomous antisemite) and the Enlightenment, then emancipation was a lie.
Jews, Herzl concluded, would never be secure unless they had a state of
their own.
From this epiphany came Herzl's 1896 pamphlet Der Judenstaat (The Jewish State),
then, one year later, the first Zionist Congress in Basel. His vision
did not emerge in a vacuum; it was born of the venom he had witnessed in
France. The Dreyfus Affair became the crucible in which modern
political Zionism was forged.
French intellectual currents not only gave rise to Zionism — they
also nourished antisemitism in forms that would metastasize worldwide.
As France vacillated between defenders of justice and merchants of
hatred, the battle lines drawn in the 1890s would echo throughout the
twentieth century.
II. French Letters and the Poisoned Well (1890s–1930s)
It is hard to understand the modern spread of European antisemitism
without factoring in its French literary engine. In 1886, Édouard
Drumont published La France juive, a runaway bestseller that
packaged bigotry as a total explanation of French decline. Drumont did
not merely "describe" Jews; he indicted them as an alien cabal, thereby giving a popular movement both its slogans and its pseudo-intellectual veneer. His newspaper, La Libre Parole, normalized the discourse, turning antisemitism into a daily habit for thousands of readers. The template of conspiracy, financial demonology and cultural contempt would stretch across Europe and into the twentieth century.
By the years between the world wars, the climate had worsened.
Jacques Doriot, once a rising Communist, mutated into a fascist,
founding the Parti Populaire Français (PPF). His trajectory, from
far-left tribune to Nazi collaborator, embodied a grim convergence:
Jew-hatred as the bridge between extremes. Under the German occupation
during WWII, the PPF enforced antisemitic policies and aped Nazi
methods, showing how French politics could serve as a transmission belt
for imported totalitarianism.
The literary canon itself was not spared. Louis-Ferdinand Céline, one
of France's most stylistically gifted novelists, published two
notorious pamphlets — Bagatelles pour un massacre (1937) and L'École des cadavres
(1938) — that dripped with genocidal antisemitic bile. He never atoned.
Even decades later, debates about republishing his pamphlets
acknowledged their openly antisemitic, fascistic core. What mattered for
the wider world was the export value: when hatred is written with
elegance, it travels farther.
III. The Communist Blind Spot: From Molotov-Ribbentrop to Defeatism (1939–1941)
When Stalin signed his non-aggression pact with Hitler in August
1939, the shock swept through Europe. The French Communist Party
struggled for a few days, but then aligned with Moscow.
The result was a propaganda campaign that promoted defeatism and
make-believe "peace" with Hitler, precisely when what France really
needed was immediate mobilization. Contemporary and subsequent analyses
record how communists disseminated the view that the war was
"imperialist," consequently undercutting national resolve at a decisive
hour.
Scholarly work details the tactical shifts and the impact inside
factories and unions during 1939–1940. The narrative is complex, but the
through-line is not: between 1939, the German-Soviet Non-Aggression
Pact, and June 1941 (Operation Barbarossa, when Germany invaded the
Soviet Union), the French Communist Party's stance mirrored Soviet
policies, not France's interests. This posture, however rationalized,
proved catastrophically out of step with the threat France actually
faced.
While the far right had given antisemitism a pulpit, part of the far
left gave Hitler a window — briefly but fatefully — through which to
divide and demoralize a democracy. Different motives, same effect:
France entered the storm of war after being weakened from within.
IV. Vichy: State Complicity and Deportations
After France's defeat at the hands of Germany in 1940 came
collaboration. France's Vichy regime did not merely submit to German
edicts; it embraced its own homegrown antisemitism. Vichy's machinery
operated with bureaucratic zeal: statutes defining who was a Jew, the
exclusion of Jews from professions, property seizures, internments, and
ultimately deportations to Auschwitz. The cultivated myth of a France
"shielding" Jews while Germany did the harm has long since been
demolished by the historical record. Vichy was a French government, enacting French laws to persecute Jews on French soil, and in too many instances, to deliver them to their deaths.
The shock is enduring because the betrayal was intimate. The nation
of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen transformed
its own legal code into a weapon against a tiny minority that had fought
for France in WWI and WWII and believed in its promise. This was not
only an occupation story; it was a national story.
V. Post-War Realpolitik: Sheltering the Grand Mufti
Few episodes illustrate France's duplicity more vividly than its
post-war protection of Amin al-Husseini, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem.
Long before World War II, al-Husseini had incited murderous pogroms
against Jews in Palestine, most conspicuously in 1929 at Hebron and
Safed. Al-Husseini then lent ideological support to the Farhud pogrom in
Iraq in 1941, in which more than a hundred of Jews were murdered, and
hundreds more wounded. During WWII, Husseini was a willing partner
of Nazi Germany: broadcasting anti-Jewish and anti-British propaganda
from Berlin, lobbying Adolf Hitler and SS chief Heinrich Himmler to
prevent any transfer of Jews to Palestine, and even helping to recruit
Bosnian Muslims into the Waffen-SS.
At war's end, the case for accountability was clear. Al-Husseini's name was raised for trial at Nuremberg; Yugoslavia filed an extradition request for war crimes, and Britain initially pressed for his prosecution.
The French government, however, which held him under house arrest
from May 1945 until May 1946, had other priorities. Apparently fearing
to alienate Arab opinion and desperate to preserve France's influence in
North Africa and the Middle East, French Foreign Ministry officials
concluded that leniency toward Husseini would be rewarded
diplomatically. Prosecuting him, they feared, would risk uprisings and
the loss of goodwill in Muslim lands.
Political considerations won out over justice. British resolve
softened; Yugoslavia eventually dropped its request. France used this collapse of nerve
as cover to avoid a trial. In May 1946, Husseini conveniently "escaped"
from France to Egypt. Most historians agree the escape was tolerated —
if not facilitated — by the French government, eager to rid itself of a
political embarrassment while currying favor with Arab leaders.
This episode set a pattern that would haunt French policy for
decades: when forced to choose between upholding justice for Jewish
victims or cultivating Arab alliances, Paris chose the latter. In doing
so, France sheltered one of the most vicious antisemites of the
twentieth century — an active ally of Hitler, a recruiter for the SS,
and an instigator of pogroms — because his political utility outweighed
the moral imperative of accountability.
Then came a brief period of rational alliance and partnership between
France and Israel -- one that eventually led the two countries to
become nuclear powers. Unfortunately, this honeymoon did not last.
VI. De Gaulle and the "Arab Policy" (1967 and After)
Charles de Gaulle's reaction to the Six-Day War marked a dramatic
rupture in French policy toward Israel. Within days of Israel's stunning
military victory in June 1967, Paris moved from being one of Israel's
principal arms suppliers to imposing an arms embargo that effectively
cut military ties and signaled a strategic pivot toward Arab capitals.
This embargo, and the harsh language de Gaulle used to describe Israel
and the Jews — calling them at one point "a people sure of themselves
and domineering" — left an enduring scar on French-Israeli relations and
created the political space for a more openly pro-Arab, realpolitik
French diplomacy.
The logic behind the shift was straightforward: France was
recalibrating toward what it perceived as long-term national interests —
energy supplies in the form of Arab oil, commercial ties, and influence
in North Africa after decolonization — even at the price of alienating a
democratic ally. De Gaulle evidently
believed that maintaining good relations with the Arab world would
serve France's global role and help secure its independence from both
the US and the Soviet Union. The moral consequence, however, was a clear
double standard: universalist rhetoric at home; transactional
back-stabbing abroad.
VII. Giscard, Family Reunification and the Demographic Turn (1974–1981)
The post-1968 order in France included policies whose long-term
social and political impact has been underestimated by many
commentators. One such policy was the legal framework for family reunification
for immigrants, consolidated in the mid-1970s under President Valéry
Giscard d'Estaing and his prime ministers. By permitting long-term
immigrant workers to bring their families to France, successive
governments transformed a temporary labor policy into a more permanent
demographic shift — with important consequences for domestic politics
and the composition of the electorate that, in later decades, would
severely influence France's approach to the Middle East.
It is important to stress causality carefully: legislation on family
reunification did not deterministically produce any single foreign
policy choice. It did, all the same, help to create the electoral
constituencies whose concerns and votes French leaders would
increasingly weigh — and with whom political elites sometimes sought
conciliatory gestures on foreign policy as a matter of political
expediency. In short, immigration policy became a significant factor in
France's geopolitical calculations.
VIII. Khomeini's Safe Haven: France's Unwitting Launchpad (1978–1979)
When Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini spent his final months in exile in
Neauphle-le-Château outside Paris, France inadvertently became a
broadcast platform for Iran's Islamic revolutionary movement. With broad
press freedoms and a ravenous international media corps gathered around
the cleric, Khomeini's sermons and statements were rapidly transmitted
back into Iran. What French authorities saw as a short-term humanitarian
and logistical solution turned into a strategic blunder: the relative
openness of France amplified Khomeini's message and helped him to
consolidate a revolutionary narrative that would soon sweep away Iran's
Shah and establish an anti-Western, jihadist, theocratic regime.
The decision to allow Khomeini into French territory was complicated.
He had been expelled from Najaf, Iraq and was seeking a place from
which he could freely communicate his messages to Iran. French officials
and local hosts were, according to contemporary reporting and later
histories, guided more by considerations of asylum and the
technicalities of visas than by any intent to aid an Islamic revolution.
Yet the strategic effect was that his stay in France gave Khomeini a
massive international megaphone. The French media — and the protections
of French civil rights — transformed a reclusive cleric into a global
icon.
IX. Mitterrand, Beirut and the Paradox of Protection (1982)
The 1982 Lebanon War demonstrated once again how France could
position itself rhetorically as a mediator while pursuing policies that
many in Israel and the US found opaque — even hostile. As Israeli forces
closed in on West Beirut and the PLO leadership faced annihilation,
Paris — under President François Mitterrand and through foreign policy
channels — advocated a multinational force to oversee the evacuation of
the PLO from Lebanon. France pressed for, and contributed troops to, the
multinational contingent that was supposed to supervise the PLO
withdrawal. France's diplomatic posture was presented as saving the PLO
from complete destruction. PLO leader Yasser Arafat himself publicly
expressed gratitude to France for its role in arranging and guaranteeing the evacuation.
The same intervention, all the same, fed narratives of French
partiality. Critics argued that Paris's willingness to play shepherd to
Arafat reflected not a neutral humanitarian instinct but a consistent
policy tendency to court Arab opinion and preserve French influence in
the Levant. The multinational force succeeded in evacuating thousands of
PLO terrorists and the organization's leaders, but the region's bloody
aftermath revealed the limits of diplomatic theater when not paired with
decisive measures to protect civilians and confront militias. France's
role in Beirut in 1982 is therefore ambiguous: a protector of evacuation
on paper; in practice, a state whose broader policy choices had
repeatedly favored accommodating terrorists over accountability.
X. The "Secret Deal": PFLP and French Intelligence
One of the darkest and most revealing episodes of late-20th-century
French diplomacy was the quiet coordination between elements of France's
intelligence services and Palestinian terrorist groups. In the years
after a wave of terror attacks on French soil in the 1970s and 1980s,
former French intelligence officials later admitted that the country's
security services had entered informal understandings with Palestinian
terrorist factions — not out of sympathy for their cause, but from a
blunt, transactional desire to keep terror off French streets. Yves
Bonnet, who headed the Directorate of Territorial Surveillance (DST) in
the early 1980s, publicly described how the DST cultivated channels to
Palestinian terrorist organizations as a "pragmatic" way to prevent
attacks and preserve domestic order.
This was not high-minded diplomacy.
It was a deal underwritten by cynicism: toleration and limited
engagement in exchange for the simple promise that murderers would not
strike France again.
The moral cost was enormous. By making stability the overriding
priority, French authorities tacitly normalized contact with
organizations that targeted Jews and Israelis. These back-channel
accommodations blurred the line between counterterrorism and collusion —
and served as an early modern example of a recurring French pattern:
When domestic tranquility and influence in the Arab world collide with
the safety and security of Jews, the balance is often struck in favor of
tranquility.
XI. Chirac's Arabist Reflex
Jacques Chirac's career embodied the ambivalence of France's
post-colonial diplomacy: a leader who publicly confronted France's past
crimes against the Jews (his 1995 speech
acknowledging responsibility for the Vichy deportations is historic),
yet repeatedly cultivated personal and political ties with authoritarian
Arab leaders. Chirac's long-standing, almost intimate ties with Iraq
and with Saddam Hussein in particular were well known in diplomatic
circles; those ties illustrate how French foreign policy often
privileged personal relationships and strategic commerce over moral
clarity.
The texture of that reflex is visible in smaller, symbolic episodes, as well. President Chirac, during a visit to Israel in October 1996,
erupted at what he called a "provocation" by Israeli plainclothes
security guards during a walk in the Old City of Jerusalem — an incident
that became emblematic of Paris's sensitivity to perceived Israeli
slights and a readiness to dramatize grievances that resonated with the
Arab and Muslim public. Whether the outburst was theatre or genuine
indignation, it fed a narrative: France would hold Israel to scrutiny in
a way that sometimes felt public and punitive, while remaining
discreet, conciliatory, or accommodating toward Arab regimes.
Chirac also played a backchannel role in moments of regional crisis.
During the fraught period following the failure of Camp David II and the
violence that surrounded the second Intifada in 2000, Paris's posture
favored diplomatic hedging and protection of Palestinian leadership in
ways that, critics argued, sometimes shielded figures whose methods and
rhetoric hardened the conflict rather than resolving it. This posture —
part humanitarian, part geopolitical calculation — confirmed a French
habit: act as mediator and moral broker while maintaining policies that
preserve Paris's influence in the Arab world, as in its support for
Iraqi strongman Saddam Hussein.
XII. Al-Durrah: The Icon That Divided a Nation
Few images from the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had the raw emotional impact of the footage broadcast by France 2
on September 30, 2000: a father crouched over his son, bullets flying —
and the boy apparently dying on camera. The scene of Muhammad al-Durrah
became an emblem of Palestinian suffering and a rallying image across
the Muslim world. The initial France 2 report, narrated by Charles
Enderlin and filmed by Talal Abu Rahma, was widely accepted as real and
re-broadcast; it shaped international opinion during the opening months
of the Second Intifada, a violent Palestinian uprising against Israelis.
This narrative, however, did not long survive forensic and legal scrutiny. Subsequent inquiries, re-examination
of the footage, and several technical reconstructions raised serious
doubts about whether Israeli fire had caused the boy's death or whether
he was even shot. Some investigators argued that the image had been
edited or narrated in a way that produced a politically explosive
impression not fully supported by the raw material -- for instance, how
come, if Mohammad al-Durrah was shot, there was no blood at the scene?
The controversy led to libel suits, heated media debates in France, and
a long war of narratives: for many critics, the al-Durrah case became a
test of whether French media could be trusted to report dispassionately
on Palestine-Israel — or whether powerful images produced abroad would
be turned into instruments of political mobilization at home.
The scandal's political consequences were immediate. The image
accelerated anti-Israel sentiment in French public opinion, fed protests
and hardened the belligerent framing of the conflict in French media
and politics. Whether one believes the original France 2 account in full
or accepts the skeptical reconstructions, the al-Durrah affair
demonstrated how a single televised sequence can change the political
chemistry of a country and create a lasting credibility problem for its media.
XIII. The French Anti-Zionist Intelligentsia
Beyond presidents and spy chiefs, France's intellectual and media
class has been a decisive engine shaping public attitudes. From certain
influential columnists to the editorial positions of major publications,
anti-Zionist framings have often bled into the discourse, sometimes
tipping into rhetorical excesses that risk conflating policy critique
with cultural or religious denigration.
Outlets and figures across the French media ecosystem — from leading op-eds in Mediapart to controversies inside Le Monde and Libération
— have been accused by critics of asymmetrical coverage that places
Israel's worst actions at the center while "contextualizing" or
downplaying incitement, violence and terrorism from Palestinians and
other extremist actors.
Edwy Plenel himself, before founding Mediapart and after serving as editor-in-chief of Le Monde, has a history that exemplifies this problem. In 1972, while writing for Rouge,
the weekly of the Trotskyist Revolutionary Communist League, he reacted
to the murder of Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics not with
condemnation but with praise. He argued that "no revolutionary could
disown Black September" after they murdered the Israeli athletes,
thereby effectively offering what contemporaries described as
"unconditional support" to the terrorists.
While Plenel has since distanced himself from this youthful
radicalism, acknowledging that it was indefensible, the episode remains a
solid reminder of how parts of the French intelligentsia once crossed
the line from political critique to glorification of terror.
This environment creates two linked problems. First, it makes
France's public conversation unusually capricious: a large portion of
France's opinion-forming institutions interpret events through frames
that often emphasize French universalism and human rights language, yet
apply those frames unevenly when Jews and Israel are involved. Second,
it gives political actors license to pursue policies that mirror the
elite discourse — policies that, for reasons of domestic politics or
international positioning, can be strikingly less sympathetic to Israel
than to rival states. The result is predictable: when moral outrage is
selective, credibility erodes — and the Jewish community, and Israel,
frequently pay the price.
XIV. The Media Coverage That Misled a Nation
No survey of France's ambiguous stance toward Israel would be complete without scrutinizing its media ecosystem. For decades, the front pages of Le Monde, Libération, and Le Monde Diplomatique
have provided disproportionate framing that vilifies Israel while
sanitizing Palestinian violence. Headlines portraying Israeli
counter-terrorism as "aggression," while minimizing rocket fire or
suicide bombings, have shaped French public opinion, sometimes more
decisively than presidential speeches.
The effect of this editorial slant is cumulative: each cover, each
op-ed, each biased image is built into a narrative architecture in which
Israel stands as the perennial aggressor and Palestinians as the
archetypal victims. This distortion is not merely academic. It affects
political choices, emboldens intellectuals who conflate anti-Zionism
with moral virtue, and reinforces a climate where politicians know they
can score points by signaling distance from Jerusalem. In the long run,
media coverage has hardened the double standard and provided cultural
cover for diplomatic betrayals.
XV. Qatar, Inc.: Money, Influence, and Macron's Blind Eye
The 21st century has added a more transactional layer to France's
Arab policy: investment in the French economy. Few states have invested
more aggressively in French assets and businesses than Qatar. The
oil-rich emirate poured billions into Parisian real estate, media
holdings, luxury firms, and sports franchises. The purchase of Paris
Saint-Germain football team became a symbol of how deeply Qatari capital
has embedded itself into French public life. Alongside investment came
soft power: television channels, think tanks, and influence campaigns
aimed at projecting Doha's narratives into French discourse.
Qatar's record is not benign.
For years it has financed Hamas and sheltered its leadership. That
France tolerated -- even courted -- Qatar despite these links testifies
to a familiar pattern: geopolitical expediency trumping moral clarity.
Macron himself has wavered on Qatar, oscillating between mild criticisms
and enthusiastic embrace. The paradox is disingenuous: while Macron
preaches republican secularism at home, he welcomes investments from a
monarchy accused of fueling Islamist extremism abroad.
Some Qatari investors have pulled back from French markets of late,
signaling that Doha's support is conditional and that Macron's balancing
act offers uncertain returns. At the same time, Macron is touting new
economic partnerships, including a promise of 10 billion euros of Qatari
investments in France — a reminder that lofty diplomatic postures are
often cushioned by pragmatic financial deals.
XVI. La France Insoumise: The threat within.
In France, a radical left-wing political party has become a
destabilizing domestic force. La France Insoumise (LFI, "France
Unbowed"), led by Jean-Luc Mélenchon, has adopted methods of political
agitation that increasingly recall strategies once used by the Nazis:
street intimidation, permanent propaganda, and an obsessive use of
scapegoats. LFI has made antisemitism and hostility toward Israel
central to its discourse. Members of Parliament such as Thomas Portes,
Aymeric Caron and Rima Hassan have turned their anti-Zionist obsession
into a quasi-monopolistic political project, using Israel as a lightning
rod to mobilize resentment. The aim is clear: to capture as many votes
as possible within immigrant communities, where this rhetoric finds
fertile ground. For Macron, who is now unpopular with a broad majority
of the French population of native or integrated origin, "throwing
Israel under the bus" serves a dual purpose: attempting to seduce a
segment of this electorate while also appeasing an ultra-violent street
movement emboldened by LFI's constant incitement.
XVII. October 7, 2023 and After: Macron's Anti-Israel Tilt
The Hamas massacre of October 7, 2023 was a moral flashpoint. At
first, Macron's words were unequivocal: "France stands in solidarity
with Israel and the Israelis, committed to their security and their
right to defend themselves," he wrote on the day of the attack. Yet,
within months, the rhetoric
shifted. As harrowing images from Gaza saturated global media and
pressure mounted from the European left and Muslim communities inside
France, Macron began to emphasize "humanitarian" concerns and call
publicly for ceasefires and restraint. On July 25, 2025, he announced on
X that "the urgent thing today is that the war in Gaza stops and the
civilian population is saved," and declared his intention to formally
recognize a Palestinian state at the United Nations -- which he did on September 23, 2025.
This about-face reveals the weakness of Macron's calculation. He
presented "recognition" at the United Nations as a humane corrective — a
way to "restore political hope" and revive the two-state solution — but
the move was both poorly timed and politically naïve, if not
duplicitous.
Macron's post on X insisted on conditionality (Hamas must relinquish
control and the Palestinian Authority must reform), yet those conditions
remain unenforceable in practice. A state without concrete guarantees
risks rewarding the very actors — such as Hamas and its patrons — who
use terrorism as a policy. Macron's declaration looks less like
statesmanship and more like firing blanks: a symbolic attempt at
appeasement to placate vocal constituencies at home and reclaim the
moral high ground abroad by offering up a state that someone else -- a
sovereign nation, far away -- is supposed to implement, while offering
Israel and the United States nothing at all.
The international reaction was immediate and revealing. Israeli
hard-liners seized the moment to harden their posture. Finance Minister
Bezalel Smotrich publicly thanked Macron — ironically — for providing
"yet another reason" to press for Israeli sovereignty over parts of
Judea and Samaria, while other ministers openly mulled steps toward
annexation that until now had been largely rhetorical. Such responses
were predictable: unilateral recognition encourages maximalist
countermoves from the threatened party.
Washington
also did not embrace Macron's gambit. U.S. officials publicly warned
that unilateral European recognition undermined leverage in hostage
negotiations and could empower extremist factions inside Palestinian
politics. US Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee noted,
"If France is really so determined to see a Palestinian state, I have a
suggestion for them–carve out a piece of the French Riviera." Macron's
symbolic act effectively sabotaged the very US-led channels that were
most likely to secure the hostages and constrain Hamas.
Domestically, Macron's maneuver landed poorly. Multiple polls
indicate that a large majority of the French public — roughly
three-quarters — opposed immediate, unconditional recognition of a
"Palestine" while Israeli hostages remained in Gaza or while Hamas
remained in power. The disconnect between Macron and his electorate is
striking. While he sought applause abroad, he was being widely perceived
at home as indulging in moral posturing that had little chance of
delivering peace and a lot of chance of making matters worse.
Macron's credibility was further undercut by other domestic crises
that exposed governance fatigue and strategic drift. His administration
has been battered by repeated street protests — over pension reforms,
austerity and other measures — and his government's authority has been
weakened by scandals and declining approval. These weaknesses mean that
Macron has fewer domestic political resources to absorb an international
backlash or to press for a foreign policy that might risk his political
future. The timing of his recognition of a non-existent Palestinian
state looked less like high moral purpose and more like the
miscalculated act of a beleaguered leader trying to reset a collapsing
career.
Macron's "recognition" declaration will probably do more harm than
good. It has angered Israel, failed to win over the United States,
alienated important swathes of his own electorate, and encouraged
Israeli hard-liners to entertain permanent annexation. The result is the
political opposite of what Macron thought he was promising. It is not a
revived diplomacy, but a harder, more dangerous stalemate — with
France's reputation as an honest broker badly in a ditch.
This disconnect — between a president desperate for approval abroad
but trying to woo a public increasingly skeptical of elite pretenses —
is the final irony. The nation of Alfred Dreyfus, Émile Zola, and the
Rights of Man, so often invoked as a beacon of a "universalism" that no
one appears to want any more, finds itself led by a government more
concerned with empty posturing than with genuine justice. Macron's
maneuver, like de Gaulle's embargo on Israel, like France's sheltering
Amin al-Husseini, will be remembered not as statesmanship but as yet
another entry in the ledger of France's double standard toward Jews,
Israel and other policies over which it preens itself as an avatar of
virtue.
What next?
France's tangled relationship with Jews, Zionism and Israel stretches
from the Dreyfus Affair to today's diplomatic theater under Macron.
This history is a mosaic of high-minded ideals and ugly sell-outs and
compromises that put French interests ahead of moral clarity, as well as
a succession of leaders who sometimes courted Arab rulers and "causes"
for reasons of strategy, prestige or domestic politics.
What is new — and alarming — is how a contemporary French presidency,
ambitious abroad but weak at home, has chosen a symbolic, unilateral,
Wonderlandian path — recognizing the statehood of a fictitious
"Palestine" -- at a moment of extreme violence, hostage-taking, and
diplomatic fragility. Macron's move is being sold as a pragmatic tool to
reframe the region and "isolate Hamas," yet it has of necessity only
hardened Israel's stance, alienated large swathes of French public
opinion, and reopened old wounds that France's post-war politics had
never fully settled.
If France's century-long oscillation between principle and
self-interest teaches anything, it is that gestures divorced from
on-the-ground realities and credible enforcement rarely produce peace.
Recognizing a non-existent state — while hostages remain captive and
Hamas is still in power — rewards force over reconstruction and rhetoric
over results. The only durable path will require credible security
guarantees, an enforceable plan for disarming terror groups, and a
diplomatic strategy coordinated with Israel and the United States — not a
one-off diplomatic flourish that inflames passions at home and abroad.
Finally, a sober France must confront its past honestly: the
anti-Jewish strains, the Nazi collaborators who facilitated the
deportation of Jews to their deaths, the postwar compromises that
protected war criminals, and the repeated flirtations with illiberal
movements abroad. Only by facing up to policies that are doing more harm
than good to France can it credibly advance "peace and prosperity"
either in the Middle East or at home.
Pierre Rehov, who holds a law degree from Paris-Assas,
is a French reporter, novelist and documentary filmmaker. He is the
author of six novels, including "Beyond Red Lines", " The Third
Testament" and "Red Eden", translated from French. His latest essay on
the aftermath of the October 7 massacre " 7 octobre - La riposte "
became a bestseller in France.As a filmmaker, he has produced and
directed 17 documentaries, many photographed at high risk in Middle
Eastern war zones, and focusing on terrorism, media bias, and the
persecution of Christians. His latest documentary, "Pogrom(s)"
highlights the context of ancient Jew hatred within Muslim civilization
as the main force behind the October 7 massacre.
Trump suspended trade talks late Thursday after the Ontario government spent about $75 million Canadian on ads featuring audio and video of Reagan to air on American TV stations.
(The Center Square) -
Ontario Premier Doug Ford said
Friday that he would scrap a $56 million ad campaign that used clips of
former U.S. President Ronald Reagan from 1987 warning about the dangers
of tariffs and protectionist policies.
Trump suspended trade talks late Thursday after the Ontario
government spent about $75 million Canadian on ads featuring audio and
video of Reagan to air on American TV stations.
Ford initially said Friday that he wouldn't back down, saying "Canada
and the United States are friends, neighbours and allies. President
Ronald Reagan knew that we are stronger together."
That changed six hours later. Ford said he would pull the ad
beginning Monday after two World Series games over the weekend. The Los
Angeles Dodgers face the Toronto Blue Jays in a best-of-seven series for
baseball's championship.
"Our intention was always to initiate a conversation about the kind
of economy that Americans want to build and the impact of tariffs on
workers and businesses," Ford wrote on X. "We've achieved our goal,
having reached U.S. audiences at the highest levels. I've directed my
team to keep putting our message in front of Americans over the weekend
so that we can air our commercial during the first two World Series
games."
Ford said he decided to pull the ads after talking with Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney.
"Ontario will pause its U.S. advertising campaign effective Monday so
that trade talks can resume," Ford said. "The people elected our
government to protect Ontario – our workers, businesses, families and
communities. That's exactly what I'm doing. Like I said earlier today:
Canada and the U.S. are neighbours, friends and allies. We're so much
stronger when we work together. Let's work together to build Fortress
Am-Can and make our two countries stronger, more prosperous and more
secure."
The advertisement campaign featured Reagan saying he was "loath" to
put up any barriers to free trade, but did so in response to Japan's
trade decisions on semiconductors.
"But, over the long run, such trade barriers hurt every American, worker and consumer," Reagan says in the 1987 address.
The Ronald Reagan Foundation said Ontario took the former GOP president's remarks out of context.
"The ad misrepresents the Presidential Radio Address, and the
Government of Ontario did not seek nor receive permission to use and
edit the remarks," the foundation wrote in a post on X. The foundation
said it was "reviewing its legal options in this matter" and encouraged
all interested to watch Reagan's unedited video on its YouTube channel.
Trump said Reagan, a GOP icon whose portrait hangs in Trump's Oval Office, loved tariffs.
"CANADA CHEATED AND GOT CAUGHT!!!," Trump wrote on Friday morning on
his social media platform. "They fraudulently took a big buy ad saying
that Ronald Reagan did not like Tariffs, when actually he LOVED TARIFFS
FOR OUR COUNTRY, AND ITS NATIONAL SECURITY."
Trump accused Canada of trying to "illegally influence" the upcoming U.S. Supreme Court case challenging his tariff authority.
"Canada is trying to illegally influence the United States Supreme
Court in one of the most important rulings in the history of our
Country," Trump said Friday in his post.
Trump's economic agenda is tied to tariffs. However, a group of small
businesses, some Democrat-led states, and two toymakers have challenged
the president's tariff authority under the International Emergency
Economic Powers Act of 1977. That law doesn't mention tariffs. The case
is pending before the U.S. Supreme Court, which has set oral arguments
for Nov. 5.
Trump put a 35% tariff on most Canadian goods not covered under the
United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement, a trade agreement Trump
negotiated in his first term that preserved free trade among the three
countries on most goods.
The dust-up started late Thursday, when Trump said he would suspend all talks with Canada over the ad campaign.
"The Ronald Reagan Foundation has just announced that Canada has
fraudulently used an advertisement, which is FAKE, featuring Ronald
Reagan speaking negatively about Tariffs. The ad was for $75,000,000,"
Trump wrote on Truth Social. "They only did this to interfere with the
decision of the U.S. Supreme Court, and other courts. TARIFFS ARE VERY
IMPORTANT TO THE NATIONAL SECURITY, AND ECONOMY, OF THE U.S.A. Based on
their egregious behavior, ALL TRADE NEGOTIATIONS WITH CANADA ARE HEREBY
TERMINATED."
Trump previously suspended trade talks with Canada in late June, but
Canada caved to Trump's demands by pulling its digital services tax
hours before it was to go into effect. Canada's proposed digital
services tax required foreign and domestic businesses to pay taxes on
some revenue earned from engaging with online users in Canada.
Jason Kenney, a former Conservative cabinet minister under former
Prime Minister Stephen Harper, called Trump's comments and the response
from the Ronald Reagan Foundation "embarrassing."
"The Ontario ad does not misrepresent President Reagan's anti-tariff
radio address in any respect whatsoever. It is a direct replay of his
radio address, formatted for a one-minute ad," Kenney wrote in a post on
X. "Everything that Reagan said in his pro free trade April, 1987 radio
message is consistent with the ad. In fact, everything he ever said
about trade, before and after becoming President, is consistent with his
principled opposition to tariffs."
He also called out the foundation for its comments.
"The @RonaldReagan Foundation knows these things. They know perfectly
well that the Ontario ad captures precisely President Reagan's
opposition to tariffs, and support for free trade," Kenney wrote. "But
it is obvious that the Foundation now has gormless leadership which is
easily intimidated by a call from the White House, yet another sign of
the hugely corrosive influence of Trump on the American conservative
movement. For shame."
In the video, Reagan said he opposes tariffs and protectionist trade
policies, both of which Trump has employed extensively in his second
term. Reagan said such policies only work for a short time in the video.
"You see, at first when someone says 'Let's impose tariffs on foreign
imports,' it looks like they are doing the patriotic thing by
protecting American products and jobs. And sometimes, for a short while,
it works. But only for a short time," Reagan said. "What eventually
occurs is first homegrown industries start relying on government
protection in the form of high tariffs, they stop competing and stop
making the innovative management and technological changes they need to
succeed in world markets. And then, while all this is going on,
something even worse occurs. High tariffs inevitably lead to retaliation
by foreign countries and the triggering of fierce trade wars. The
result is more and more tariffs, higher and higher trade barriers and
less and less competition."
Reagan also said high tariffs "subsidize inefficiency and poor management."
Sixty percent of Hamas's tunnel network remains operative in Gaza, according to Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz.
Israeli forces on the border with Gaza. Oct. 16, 2025. Photo by Tsafrir Abayov/Flash90.
Updated Oct. 26, 02:23 / JNS)
The Israel Defense Forces struck a
Palestinian Islamic Jihad operative in central Gaza on Saturday night,
according to the military foiling an “imminent terrorist attack” against
its troops.
The strike was carried out in the Nuseirat camp, according to the IDF.
IDF Southern Command forces remain
deployed in Gaza in accordance with the ceasefire agreement and “will
continue to operate to remove any immediate threat,” according to the
military statement.
Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz said
earlier on Saturday that 60% of Hamas’s terrorist tunnels still remain
in the Gaza Strip and that the IDF is prioritizing their destruction in
the territory under its control.
“The most urgent moral mission is, of
course, the return of all the hostages and the fallen to their homes,
and we will do everything to fulfill this sacred and critical mission,”
Katz tweeted.
But the “overarching strategic mission” is
the demilitarization of Gaza through the complete destruction of the
terror tunnels, along with the disarming of Hamas, Katz stressed.
The minister said that demolishing the
tunnels in the so-called Yellow Zone that runs along the north, south
and east of Gaza is being carried out in full cooperation with U.S.
representatives, “from the Vice President and the Secretaries of State
and Defense, through the envoys of the U.S. President, to the commanders
of CENTCOM [U.S. Central Command].”
Katz added that discussions with
Washington involve finding ways to implement President Donald Trump’s
20-point peace plan, to address the dismantling of tunnels and disarming
of Hamas in the remaining Gaza territory, “under [U.S.]
responsibility.”
פירוז עזה באמצעות הריסת מנהרות הטרור של חמאס, לצד פירוק חמאס מנשקו, הם בראייתי היעד האסטרטגי החשוב ביותר למימוש הניצחון בעזה.
המשימה הערכית הדחופה ביותר היא כמובן השבת כל החטופים החללים הביתה ונעשה הכל כדי לממש את המשימה הקדושה והחשובה הזאת.
The first stage of the ceasefire deal
involved the exchange of the remaining living and dead hostages from
Gaza for Palestinian terrorists held in Israeli prisons. The IDF has
also withdrawn to the Yellow Line as part of the agreement, whose second
phase regarding the disarming of Hamas is slated to commence.
U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio told reporters in Israel on Friday that there is no viable alternative to Trump’s Middle East peace plan, expressing “healthy optimism” that it will be fully implemented.
“There is no Plan B,” Rubio said at the
new Civil-Military Coordination Center (CMCC) in Kiryat Gat. “This is
the best plan. It’s the only plan. It’s one that we think can succeed.
It’s one that we believe is the way to success, as impossible and
unimaginable as it may have been.”
China and the U.S. have been locked in a trade war since early in President Trump’s second term. The two sides have long been engaged in trade economic broadsides with tariffs and export controls.
Fresh off what many call a diplomatic triumph
in the Middle East, President Donald Trump heads to Asia this week and
will meet with Chinese leader Xi Jinping, who has resisted Trump’s
efforts to secure a trade deal as a deadline for more tariffs is fast
approaching.
President Trump plans to meet with his Chinese counterpart
next week on the sidelines of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation
being held in South Korea. Both the South Korean government and the
White House confirmed the meeting, which will be the first time the two
leaders have met face to face since 2019 before the COVID-19 pandemic.
“I think we are going to come out very well and everyone’s going to be very happy,” Trump said on Thursday, striking an optimistic tone ahead of the meeting.
There is a ticking clock
The meeting comes as the world’s two largest economies are
balancing a delicate trade truce set to expire in early November.
Negotiations have been challenging amid restrictive measures imposed by
both sides, including Chinese curbs on rare earth mineral exports and
steep U.S. port use fees.
The American president hopes to secure a trade deal with
the Chinese before that deadline. However, Xi Jinping appears to be
adopting a confrontational approach that concedes little. Every round of
tariffs or export restrictions imposed by the Trump administration this
year was met with Chinese retaliation that forced both sides to back
away from the brink.
President Trump’s trip to Asia also comes as he faces steep
challenges at home. An ongoing government shutdown has paralyzed
Washington. Many government employees have gone without pay and so will
the military by the end of this month.
The highly anticipated Trump-Xi meeting almost did not take place.
Tariffs and immediate retribution
The United States and China have been locked in
negotiations since the beginning of President Trump’s second term over
the persistent trade deficit with China and unfair trade practices.
After taking office in January, a few weeks later President Trump imposed several tariffs on China
for its failure to combat fentanyl precursor chemicals, targeting
steel, automobiles, and other goods that once reached over 100%. China
retaliated by raising its own tariffs on U.S. goods.
Data also show
that the January market numbers were mildly up across the board. The
S&P 500 gained 2.70%, The Dow Jones Industrial Average gained 4.70%,
and the Nasdaq added 1.66% that January.
Then, in June, China implemented its first round of restrictions on rare earths.
The move prompted the Trump administration to negotiate a temporary
90-day tariff pause that capped the duties at 30% while broader trade
negotiations remained ongoing. China did not immediately implement
restrictions on rare earths, but instead a new set of comprehensive
regulations on rare earth administration which took effect on October 1,
2024.
However, tensions rose rapidly over the course of October. Trump called out China for refusing to buy significant quantities of American-grown soybeans, his administration imposed new port fees on China-linked vessels to help encourage U.S. shipbuilding, and blacklisted Chinese drone companies for links to Iran.
Then, on Oct. 9 China announced sweeping export controls
on vital rare earth minerals, battery components, and other industrial
materials, tightening the screws ahead of the proposed meeting between
the world leaders. The industry is a key pain point for the U.S. ahead
of trade negotiations because the American industry lags far behind
China in rare earth extraction and refining.
Indeed, the Chinese likely learned from the prior rare
earths restrictions earlier this year, which successfully staved off
further escalations and forced the Trump administration to the
negotiating table to prevent supply disruptions.
Academic: China's "Sweeping control"
“This is a very big deal. China has asserted sweeping
control over the entire global semiconductor supply chain, putting
export license requirements on all rare earths used to manufacture
advanced chips,” Dean Ball, senior fellow at the Foundation for American
Innovation, posted to X after the controls were announced earlier this month.
Ball also said that the move, which comes ahead of the
meeting between Trump and Xi Jinping, was likely aimed at creating
leverage for the trade and tariff negotiations between the U.S. and
China.
Flexing its rare earths muscles has been one of China’s
only moves to stave off further tariff hikes and exert leverage over the
Trump administration because it dominates the industry so thoroughly.
In 2023, China accounted for 69% of the world's production
of rare earth elements, far ahead of the United States’ 12% share. Rare
earths are a family of 17 metals that have similar properties valuable
for everything from advanced magnets to semiconductor manufacturing.
The restrictions almost sunk the opportunity for a face-to-face meeting between world leaders.
"I have not spoken to President Xi because there was no
reason to do so. This was a real surprise, not only to me, but to all
the Leaders of the Free World," Trump said
after China announced the strict export controls. "I was to meet
President Xi in two weeks, at APEC, in South Korea, but now there seems
to be no reason to do so."
Trump tries to use the bully pulpit
President Trump also threatened to retaliate further
against the Chinese economy with a new 100% tariff on all Chinese goods.
The American leader also said he would be willing to impose further
technology export limits. The U.S. already restricts the export of the
most advanced semiconductors to China.
The Chinese have projected resolve in the face of Trump’s
threats, issuing statements such as "China urges the U.S. to promptly
correct its erroneous practices,” Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokesman, Lin Jian
reportedly said earlier this month. “If the U.S. insists on going its
own way, China will certainly take resolute measures to safeguard its
legitimate rights and interests.”
Despite the firm negotiating strategy of the Chinese government, President Trump remains optimistic that he will be able to secure a deal on “everything” in his personal meeting with President Xi.
“We’ll make a deal on, I think, everything,” Trump told
reporters on Wednesday. “I think we’re going to make a deal on soybeans
and the farmers. I think we’re going to make a deal on maybe even
nuclear.”
In a meeting earlier in the week with the Prime Minister of Australia, the president said he believes the U.S. and China will reach a “fantastic deal.”
“It’s going to be a great trade deal. It’s going to be
fantastic for both countries, and it’s going to be fantastic for the
entire world,” Trump said.
From “No Kings” tantrums to ballroom hysteria, Democrats’ endless outrage shows the same pattern—Trump leads, they react, and outrage is all they have left.
The Democrats appear to be a never-ending source of pitiable entertainment these days. Last week, it was the pathetic “No Kings”
(what some mischievous wag called “No Brains”) rallies across the
country. Those 2,700 anti-Trump therapy sessions for aging, anencephalic
boomers were funded to the tune of $294 million by such public-spirited individuals and entities as Arabella Advisors, the Tides Foundation,
George Soros, and Warren Buffett. Such streams of cash funneled
millions through dozens of left-leaning entities, including the American
Civil Liberties Union, the National LGBTQ Task Force, the Sierra Club
Foundation, the Democracy Forward Foundation, and other havens for the
perpetually aggrieved.
It was a noisy but preposterous temper tantrum, full of sound and
fury, signifying stupidity. The union of Kumbayah gestures with
rage-filled pantomimes was both inadvertently comic and repellent, the
odor of rotting pseudo-idealism wafting over the proceedings everywhere.
The insurmountable problem all of those protestors faced was the
incontrovertible fact that Donald Trump is not a king. He is a duly
elected president who handily won both the Electoral College and the
popular vote. He campaigned precisely on the issues that the unhappy
pot-bangers and sign-wavers bewailed: closing the border, expelling
illegal migrants, dismantling the woke DEI apparat in academia and the
federal government, and resuscitating and Americanizing the U.S.
economy.
If Trump were a king, why would he not simply outlaw such puerile
displays of maliciousness as the “No Kings” rallies? Why wouldn’t he
simply decree the government open again? No, the whole thing was
ridiculous. I doubt that even the participants could have taken their
make-believe protests seriously. But they probably feel they have to do something
to make themselves heard these days. In the face of the
perpetual-motion machine that is Donald Trump, what is an underemployed
Democrat to do?
Just as nature abhors a vacuum, so the wokerati abhor an absence of
outrage. It is an addiction, a sickness, a craving that cannot be
denied. “Outrage or burst”: that’s their motto. So no sooner had the
hangover of the “No Kings” fiasco begun to dissipate than a new draught
was necessary. Trump supplied it with the news that he was going ahead
with his plans to add a new ballroom—paid for with private funds—to the
White House.
In fact, Trump has been promising to do just this—build a beautiful
ballroom so that large gatherings at the White House would not have to
be held under a tent—at least since 2016.
But somebody in the Democrat Central Committee pretended to canvass the
focus groups and decided that the engine of outrage could be primed
with the Trump-is-desecrating-this-sacred-public-monument meme.
Again, the outpouring of manufactured outrage was both hilarious and
pathetic. The people who suddenly became hypersensitive architectural
preservationists had spent the last decade cheering on the people who
tore down or desecrated important historical statues, smashed or ripped
or sullied artworks, and substituted their noxious woke fantasies for
the clear light of historical truth.
Such woke marauders also completely ignored the actual history of the
White House and its many reconstructions, additions, renovations, and
renewals. The comedy was endless. Hillary Clinton, who should know
better than to wax moralistic about anything having to do with the White
House, pretended to be outraged and posted, “It’s not his house. It’s
your house. And he’s destroying it.” To which the president replied, “I
may name it the Monica Lewinsky ballroom.” Connoisseurs of the Clinton libido will savor the double entendre.
The great Scott Adams had fun
with the charade. Everyone agrees that a ballroom at the White House is
needed, he notes. But the Dems just demonstrated that they can get
their base to go insane over anything. “All they have to do is say it
over and over.” All of a sudden, “Trump is going to renovate the White
House” becomes “Trump is going to destroy the White House.” One poor baby said, “It
feels almost the same as when I saw the Pentagon damage on 9/11.” Yes,
really. It is insane. But Adams was loving it: “I think you should
respect that the Democrats are willing to take on the challenge of
living in a country where there is a building being renovated.” Heroes!
The White House itself posted a helpful timeline of significant
renovations and events at the residence through the years. By now, many
readers will know that in 1902, Teddy Roosevelt added the West Wing to
the White House. In 1909, William Howard Taft expanded the West Wing and
added the original Oval Office. In the 1930s and ’40s, FDR moved the
Oval Office to its current location, built the East Wing, and added an
indoor swimming pool. FDR’s successor, Harry S Truman, gutted and
totally rebuilt the interior of the White House. Richard Nixon converted
the White House swimming pool into the press briefing room and added a
bowling alley. Barack Obama, though part of the witches’ chorus now,
desecrated a tennis court to build a basketball court.
And by the way, most renovations stuck taxpayers with the tab.
Trump’s new ballroom will cost the taxpayers nothing—zero, zilch, nada.
It is entirely privately funded.
Among other things, this week’s Democrat exercise in feckless melodrama reminds us that all
the political initiative now is with Donald Trump. It’s not just that
the Democrats are wholly reactive, responding like Pavlov’s dog to any
bell that Trump might ring. There is also the fact that Trump has
consumed all the political oxygen available in the body politic. His
MAGA agenda is shaping everything—from his peace initiatives on the
world stage to his efforts at the border and with the economy and
cultural fabric of the country. All the Democrats have now is the
screech of Elizabeth Warren and her tribe, resounding like a gigantic
set of fingernails drawn harshly across the blackboard of the nation’s
attention. It is a horrible, disagreeable sound. No one heeds it.
Everyone recoils from it. It’s not much, but it’s all the Democrats have
now, a sort of endless reenactment of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” in
lieu of any constructive action.
