Why Al-Udeid Air Base in Qatar is Iran's retaliatory target
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mirror
2 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
'We quit US for country 5,000 miles away due to Trump and were blown away by experiences'
A family who moved from the USA to the popular Spanish city of Barcelona have spoken glowingly about the joys of reduced gun violence and a better healthcare system A family of three who moved from the United States to Spain because of their dislike of President Donald Trump have been blown away by their experiences in their new home. Benjamin Gorman, a former schoolteacher turned author, his wife Chrystal, and their daughter Franke, moved 5,000 miles across the Atlantic to live in the popular Spanish city of Barcelona. Benjamin said that he originally considered the move after he received 'very scary' death threats following his decision to sign a pledge to teach American history accurately. When he received backlash for this, he asked a friend of his from the FBI whether he could report the death threats if Trump were to win a second term, to which his friend said no. He claimed: 'He told me, 'You would basically be calling the Proud Boys for help.' So I knew that, if Trump won, I would have to get out.' After debating over which country to move to, the family eventually decided on Spain, in part because Benjamin speaks fluent Spanish and the family knew Barcelona well. Following their move, they have spoken glowingly about their decision and the benefits of living in Europe compared to the USA. Among the benefits are the improved healthcare system, and dramatically reduced danger of gun violence. Benjamin explained: 'The healthcare system is so much better that when we explain the American system to professionals here, they are gobsmacked by how ridiculous it sounds. 'Similarly, not having the constant threat of gun violence improves culture in so many ways. The way the police interact with people here is so positive. They're constantly de-escalating situations and working to protect people's dignity.' Whilst they are glad not to have to worry about gun violence or an incredibly expensive healthcare system, the family admitted there are some parts of home they miss dearly, most notably their family and friends. They also miss some sweet treats from home. Benjamin said: 'We've found a handful of specific products we can't get our hands on here in Spain. 'For example, we have chocolate M&M's and peanut M&M's here, but no peanut butter M&M's, which are absolutely the best kind.' Benjamin and his family aren't the first Americans to leave their homeland since the return of Trump to the White House, with others also fleeing to Canada or other parts of Europe. This includes Robert Apgar-Taylor who moved with his husband Robert Taylor to Canada. Speaking to CBC, he described the moment they stepped over the border. He told the broadcaster: 'We took a picture at the border. It was winter. We wore our plaid shirts and hats, and showed our immigration papers with the moving truck behind us. We were so excited.'
Spectator
6 hours ago
- Spectator
Can Friedrich Merz save Germany from becoming irrelevant?
Friedrich Merz arrived in Washington this week alongside Europe's most senior leaders, ostensibly to coordinate the continent's response to Trump's Ukraine designs. Here was Germany's moment to demonstrate the leadership it perpetually claims to seek – a chance to shape the conversation that will determine Europe's security architecture for years to come. Instead, before the Chancellor could even present his case to the Americans, his own foreign minister Johann Wadephul delivered a masterclass in diplomatic self-sabotage from Berlin. Germany must play 'an important role' in any future peacekeeping mission in Ukraine, declared the CDU politician, before categorically ruling out German soldiers on Ukrainian soil. 'That would presumably overwhelm us,' he explained with the sort of defeatist precision that has become his government's signature. In a single sentence, Wadephul had kneecapped his own Chancellor's negotiating position, advertising Germany's limitations rather than its capabilities to anyone listening. This wasn't merely unfortunate timing – it was the latest instalment in a pattern of cabinet colleagues undermining Merz's already tentative efforts at international leadership. Whether on defence spending, migration policy or economic reform, the Chancellor finds himself repeatedly ambushed by ministers who seem determined to advertise Germany's unwillingness to shoulder serious responsibilities. One might call it capitulation before the first battle was fought, but this represents something more systematic: the crystallisation of a political culture that has made strategic irrelevance into an art form. Here lies the exquisite tragedy of modern Germany: a nation trapped between its aspirations and its neuroses, too large to be irrelevant yet too terrified to actually lead. While Merz and other European leaders huddle in the White House, desperately hoping to dissuade Trump from striking a deal at Kyiv's expense, political Berlin sends its familiar signal: Yes, we speak of responsibility. No, we won't actually take it. The coalition has made itself thoroughly comfortable in this culture of irresponsibility. Vice-Chancellor Lars Klingbeil offered a textbook example of political evasion in his recent television interview, declaring that 'naturally we must also assume responsibility as Europeans when it comes to security guarantees'. Whether this involves troops, training, money, or something else entirely 'must all be clarified in the coming days'. What sounds like commitment is actually an escape hatch – the political equivalent of agreeing to meet for lunch 'sometime soon'. Few politicians dare acknowledge the challenges that Russian imperial ambition actually poses to Germany. CDU foreign policy expert Roderich Kiesewetter represents a rare voice of clarity, reminding his colleague Wadephul that European peace cannot be guaranteed without military backing – including ground troops if necessary. Germany, Kiesewetter argues, cannot lead from Central Europe whilst simultaneously refusing engagement where it matters. The mathematics are brutal but simple: you cannot exercise leadership whilst advertising your unwillingness to pay its price. Yet this is precisely Germany's chosen strategy, demanding a seat at the top table whilst openly declaring vast swathes of policy off-limits. Chancellor Merz understands that Germany cannot define its role through economic power alone. Since taking office, he has tentatively begun moving Germany back towards leadership responsibility. But the resistance is formidable – within his own party, throughout the coalition, and amongst a public that has grown comfortable with foreign policy free-riding. The result is that Germany is stuck in an interstitial position: too significant to be ignored, too anxious to genuinely lead. Whilst Washington discusses Ukraine's and Europe's future, Berlin resembles a spectator at its own continent's strategic deliberations. It wanted to be an actor yet seems content remaining in the audience. This dysfunction extends far beyond foreign policy. The coalition's domestic paralysis mirrors its international timidity. When asked about the government's future direction, Klingbeil couldn't even feign enthusiasm for his own coalition. Rather than articulating any compelling vision, he made clear that he views this partnership as little more than a marriage of convenience – one held together primarily by fear of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland party (AfD). Defining oneself solely in opposition to populists represents political dwarfism of the highest order. Those serious about defeating populism cannot practise politics purely ex negativo. They must offer positive alternatives, compelling visions, genuine leadership. Instead, Klingbeil offered warmed-over social democratic orthodoxy: higher taxes for high earners. But lack of revenue isn't Germany's problem. Rather, astronomical debt and a bloated welfare state burden the republic with obligations that will eventually crush future generations. Precisely when populists will find their richest hunting grounds. If Klingbeil genuinely wants to defeat populism, he must confront Germans with uncomfortable truths: they will need to work more and longer to save the pension system. Social spending must be cut – the state cannot continue housing every applicant in city centres. Real change requires discomfort for those who have arranged their lives at public expense. Klingbeil should also cease attacking coalition partners who dare speak inconvenient truths. When Trade Minister Katherina Reiche recently demanded Germans work harder, this wasn't pandering to the right – it was acknowledging a bitter reality. The coalition catastrophically underestimates German citizens by assuming they cannot handle genuine reforms. The necessary cuts would be entirely explicable. Everyone understands that deterring Russia carries costs. Everyone can calculate that fewer young workers cannot indefinitely finance more retirees' pensions. This requires basic arithmetic, not advanced mathematics. The irony is exquisite: by merely managing stagnation, the coalition achieves precisely what Klingbeil claims to oppose. Nothing feeds populists like politics' inability to address change. If the Union and SPD continue this path, they can watch the AfD overtake them in the next election. Germany's predicament extends beyond coalition politics to a fundamental crisis of strategic imagination. The country that once produced visionaries like Adenauer and Erhard, the architects of post-war European integration, now struggles to articulate any coherent vision of its role in a rapidly changing world. This matters far beyond Germany's borders. Europe desperately needs German leadership as it confronts Russian aggression, Chinese economic warfare, and American strategic uncertainty. Instead, it receives hesitation, half-measures, and the perpetual promise that someone else will handle the difficult decisions. The tragedy is that Germany possesses the resources, influence, and historical experience necessary for genuine leadership. What it lacks is the political courage to embrace the responsibilities that leadership entails. Until Berlin overcomes its preference for strategic irrelevance over strategic engagement, Europe will remain dangerously dependent on powers whose interests may not align with European security. Germany's choice is stark: lead or become irrelevant. The current strategy of wanting influence without responsibility represents the worst of both worlds and is a recipe for strategic marginalisation disguised as pragmatic restraint. The question is whether German politicians will recognise this reality before their nation's window for meaningful leadership closes entirely. Current evidence suggests they may prefer the comfort of managed decline to the challenges of actual leadership. If so, Germany's partners should plan accordingly.
Channel 4
a day ago
- Channel 4
Can an unprecedented meeting bring peace to Ukraine?
By Anushka Asthana I wasn't due to start my new role as US Editor of Channel 4 News for a few weeks. But in Trump World – nothing seems to go to plan. Luckily, I'd picked up my new White House security pass early, so I was able to hit the ground running for what turned out to be a pretty momentous day. As I wandered down Pebble Beach – the area where journalists line up to report on American presidents – seasoned US reporters described the events as unprecedented and historic. By then five European leaders, the president of the European Commission and secretary general of Nato had arrived to accompany the embattled Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy for a meeting with Donald Trump after he sat down with President Putin. The stakes could not have been higher, nor the pressure on Zelenskyy, as all sides sought to avoid a repeat of February's stomach-churning meeting. Officials familiar with the preparations told me that the Americans were determined to be 'business-like' this time round , with Vice President JD Vance – who clashed with Zelenskyy last time round at the White House – notably quiet. Zelenskyy, too, spoke little as Trump stole the floor, boasting to journalists about his triumphs in securing world peace and law and order in Washington DC. The Ukrainian president knew that it was imperative to maintain a positive tone. In fact, that was why the Europeans were there. As one source familiar with discussions said to me: 'We need to help Zelenskyy keep his cool, keep his calm. Remind him that he is here to listen, that he doesn't have to argue the toss in the moment.' Cue Zelenskyy's effusive gratitude, after being previously berated for failing to say thank you (despite doing just that). In what was an extraordinary series of events – many on camera – including a large part of the wider meeting with all the European leaders – all sides achieved their aim of an amicable mood. But what about the substance? After the sessions drew to a close I saw our Prime Minister Keir Starmer as he headed back to his flight home. He seemed buoyed by the meetings, but the challenges on the two big issues remain huge. Many were cheered by the prospect of US involvement in a security guarantee. But noises of a European peacekeeping force were quickly snubbed by Russia today, which said Nato boots on the ground in Ukraine would be unacceptable. So would Putin really stomach the suggested solution? And as for territory – the Russian president wants more, and Trump is now clear that Zelenskyy will have to concede land for an agreement. I asked Keir Starmer whether he thought President Zelenskyy does accept the principle that the price of peace will involve surrendering land? 'All matters of territory are a question for President Zelenskyy,' he told me. 'That's a very clear principle that I have held that everybody recognises. It's very important to read into the developments today on bilateral and trilateral meetings – that it is a recognition – that Ukraine must be at the table, and ultimately it is a decision for Ukraine.' Russia expert, Professor Mark Galleotti, argued to me that on some points Trump was articulating an uncomfortable truth: that Nato membership is not currently realistic for Ukraine, and that land already taken militarily by Russia is unlikely to be won back. But Putin wants even more – including the rest of Donetsk, something that Ukrainians would strongly oppose. So how could Zelenskky accept that? Galleotti admitted the challenge remains tough. But he also argued this was the most positive moves since the war began in 2022. 'I'm optimistic about the possibility of becoming optimistic,' he said. Suggesting a huge day at the White House represented progress, but the path to peace remains long and winding. This article was first posted on Substack. Subscribe to Channel 4 News.
