China to host Russia and Iran for nuclear talks as Trump tries to make a deal on weapons
China will host high-level talks with Russia and Iran in Beijing this week to address Tehran's nuclear programme.
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Chinese foreign vice-minister Ma Zhaoxu will chair the trilateral meeting on Friday, joined by Russian deputy foreign minister Sergei Ryabkov and Iranian deputy foreign minister Kazem Gharibabadi.
The delegates would exchange views on Iran's nuclear activities and regional security issues, Chinese foreign ministry spokeswoman Mao Ning said on Wednesday.
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China's top diplomat Wang Yi lays out directions for country's foreign policies
China's top diplomat Wang Yi lays out directions for country's foreign policies
China is deepening strategic ties with Russia and Iran, with all three countries taking part in the '
Security Belt-2025 ' naval drills this week.
The Chinese naval fleet arrived in the waters near Iran's Chabahar Port and completed the naval assembly with the Iranian and Russian navies on Sunday morning, marking the beginning of the joint exercise.
Beijing's defence ministry described the joint exercises, which end on Thursday, as aimed at boosting military trust and featuring simulated maritime attacks, search-and-rescue operations and intercept drills.
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Asia Times
2 hours ago
- Asia Times
Do most Iranians really hate their regime?
From 2015 to 2018, I spent 15 months doing research work in Mashhad, Iran's second-largest city. As an anthropologist, I was interested in everyday life in Iran outside the capital Tehran. I was also interested in understanding whether the ambitions of the 1979 Revolution lived on among 'ordinary' Iranians, not just political elites. I first lived on a university campus, where I learned Persian, and later with Iranian families. I conducted hundreds of interviews with people who had a broad spectrum of political, social and religious views. They included opponents of the Islamic Republic, supporters, and many who were in between. What these interviews revealed to me was both the diversity of opinion and experience in Iran, and the difficulty of making uniform statements about what Iranians believe. When Israel's strikes on Iran began on June 13, killing many top military commanders, many news outlets – both international and those run by the Iranian diaspora – featured images of Iranians cheering the deaths of these hated regime figures. Friends from my fieldwork also pointed to these celebrations, while not always agreeing with them. Many feared the impact of a larger conflict between Iran and Israel. Trying to put these sentiments in context, many analysts have pointed to a 2019 survey by the GAMAAN Institute, an independent organisation based in the Netherlands that tracks Iranian public opinion. This survey showed 79% of Iranians living in the country would vote against the Islamic Republic if a free referendum were held on its rule. Viewing these examples as an indicator of the lack of support for the Islamic Republic is not wrong. But when used as factoids in news reports, they become detached from the complexities of life in Iran. This can discourage us from asking deeper questions about the relationships between ideology and pragmatism, support and opposition to the regime, and state and society. The news reporting on Iran has encouraged a tendency to see the Iranian state as homogeneous, highly ideological and radically separate from the population. But where do we draw the line between the state and the people? There is no easy answer to this. When I lived in Iran, many of the people who took part in my research were state employees – teachers at state institutions, university lecturers, administrative workers. Many of them had strong and diverse views about the legacy of the revolution and the future of the country. They sometimes pointed to state discourse they agreed with, for example Iran's right to national self-determination, free from foreign influence. They also disagreed with much, such as the slogans of 'death to America.' This ambivalence was evident in one of my Persian teachers. An employee of the state, she refused to attend the annual parades celebrating the anniversary of the revolution. 'We have warm feelings towards America,' she said. On the other hand, she happily attended protests, also organised by the government, in favour of Palestinian liberation. Or take the young government worker I met in Mashhad: 'We want to be independent of other countries, but not like this.' In a narrower sense, discussions about the 'state' may refer more to organisations like the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and the Basij, the paramilitary force within the IRGC that has cracked down harshly on dissent in recent decades. Both are often understood as being deeply ideologically committed. Said Golkar, a US-based Iranian academic and author, for instance, calls Iran a 'captive society'. Rather than having a civil society, he believes Iranians are trapped by the feared Basij, who maintain control through their presence in many institutions like universities and schools. Again, this view is not wrong. But even among the Basij and Revolutionary Guard, it can be difficult to gauge just how ideological and homogeneous these organisations truly are. For a start, the IRGC relies on both ideologically selected supporters, as well as conscripts, to fill its ranks. They are also not always ideologically uniform, as the US-based anthropologist Narges Bajoghli, who worked with pro-state filmmakers in Tehran, has noted. As part of my research, I also interviewed members of the Basij, which, unlike the IRGC proper, is a wholly volunteer organization. Even though ideological commitment was certainly an important factor for some of the Basij members I met, there were also pragmatic reasons to join. These included access to better jobs, scholarships and social mobility. Sometimes, factors overlapped. But participation did not always equate to a singular or sustained commitment to revolutionary values. For example, Sāsān, a friend I made attending discussion groups in Mashhad, was quick to note that time spent in the Basij 'reduced your [compulsory] military service.' This isn't to suggest there are not ideologically committed people in Iran. They clearly exist, and many are ready to use violence. Some of those who join these institutions for pragmatic reasons use violence, too. In addition, Iran is an ethnically diverse country. It has a population of 92 million people, a bare majority of whom are Persians. Other minorities include Azeris, Kurds, Arabs, Baloch, Turkmen and others. It is also religiously diverse. While there is a sizeable, nominally Shi'a majority, there are also large Sunni communities (about 10-15% of the population) and smaller communities of Christians, Jews, Zoroastrians, Baha'is and other religions. Often overlooked, there are also important differences in class and social strata in Iran, too. Iranian women mourn during the funeral ceremony of an Iranian soldier killed in Israeli airstrike in Tehran. Abedin Taherkenareh/EPA via The Conversation One of the things I noticed about state propaganda was that it flattened this diversity. James Barry, an Australian scholar of Iran, noticed a similar phenomenon. State propaganda made it seem like there was one voice in the country. Protests could be dismissed out of hand because they did not represent the 'authentic' view of Iranians. Foreign agitators supported protests. Iranians supported the Islamic Republic. Since leaving Iran, I have followed many voices of Iranians in the diaspora. Opposition groups are loud on social media, especially the monarchists who support Reza Pahlavi, the son of the deposed Shah. In following these groups, I have noticed a similar tendency to speak as though they represent the voice of all Iranians. Iranians support the shah. Or Iranians support Maryam Rajavi, leader of a Paris-based opposition group. Both within Iran, and in the diaspora, the regime, too, is sometimes held to be the imposition of a foreign conspiracy. This allows the Islamic Republic and the complex relations it has created to be dismissed out of hand. Once again, such a view flattens diversity. Over the past few years, political identities and societal divisions seem to have become harder and clearer. This means there is an increasing perception among many Iranians of a gulf between the state and Iranian society. This is the case both inside Iran, and especially in the Iranian diaspora. Decades of intermittent protests and civil disobedience across the country also show that for many, the current system no longer represents the hopes and aspirations of many people. This is especially the case for the youth, who make up a large percentage of the population. I am not an Iranian, and I strongly believe it is up to Iranians to determine their own futures. I also do not aim to excuse the Islamic Republic – it is brutal and tyrannical. But its brutality should not let us shy away from asking complex questions. If the regime did fall tomorrow, Iran's diversity means there is little unanimity of opinion as to what should come next. And if a more pluralist form of politics is to emerge, it must encompass the whole of Iran's diversity, without assuming a uniform position. It, too, will have to wrestle with the difficult questions and sometimes ambivalent relations the Islamic Republic has created. Simon Theobald is postdoctoral researcher, Institute for Ethics and Society, University of Notre Dame Australia This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Asia Times
6 hours ago
- Asia Times
NATO summit shows Europe and US no longer have a common enemy
Mark Rutte had an unenviable task at the Hague summit this week. The NATO secretary-general had to work with diverging American and European views of current security threats. After Rutte made extraordinary efforts at highly deferential, overt flattery of Donald Trump to secure crucial outcomes for the alliance, he seems to have succeeded for now. But what this meeting and the run-up have made increasingly clear is that the US and Europe no longer perceive themselves as having a single common enemy. NATO was established in 1949 as a defensive alliance against the acknowledged threat from the USSR. This defined the alliance through the Cold War until the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991. Since Russia invaded Ukraine and annexed Crimea in 2014, NATO has focused on Moscow as the major threat to international peace. But the increasingly bellicose China is demanding more attention from the US. There are some symbolic moves that signal how things are changing. Every NATO summit declaration since the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has used the same form of words: 'We adhere to international law and to the purposes and principles of the Charter of the United Nations and are committed to upholding the rules-based international order.' The declaration published during the Hague summit on June 25 conspicuously does not mention either. Indeed, in a departure from recent declarations, the five paragraphs of the Hague summit declaration are brutally short and focused entirely on portraying the alliance solely in terms of military capability and economic investment to sustain that. No mention of international law and order this time. This appears to be a carefully orchestrated output of a deliberately shortened summit designed to contain Trump's unpredictable interventions. This also seems symptomatic of a widening division between the American strategic trajectory and the security interests perceived by Canada and the European members of NATO. That this declaration was so short, and so focused on such a narrow range of issues suggests there were unusually entrenched differences that could not be surmounted. Since the onslaught of the full Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the NATO allies have been united in their criticism of Russia and support for Ukraine; until now. Since January, the Trump administration has not authorized any military aid to Ukraine and significantly reduced material support to Ukraine and criticism of Russia. Trump has sought to end the war rapidly on terms effectively capitulating to Russian aggression; his proposal suggests recognizing Russia's control over Crimea and de facto control over some other occupied territories (Luhansk, parts of Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk, and Kherson) He has also suggested Ukraine would not join NATO but might receive security guarantees and the right to join the EU. Meanwhile, European allies have sought to fund and support Ukraine's defensive efforts, increasing aid and military support, and continuing to ramp up sanctions. Another sign of the differing priorities of Europe and Canada versus the US was the decision by Pete Hegseth, US Secretary of Defense, to step back from leadership of the Ukraine Defense Contact Group, an ad-hoc coalition of states worldwide providing military support to Ukraine. Hegseth also symbolically failed to attend the group's pre-summit meeting in June. Trump has long been adamant that NATO members should meet their 2014 commitment to spend 2% of their GDP on defense, and Rutte recognized that. In 2018, Trump suggested that this should be increased to 4 or 5% but this was dismissed as unreasonable. Now, in a decision which indicates increasing concern about both Russia as a threat and US support, NATO members (except for Spain) have agreed to increase spending to 5% of GDP on defense over the next 10 years. NATO's Article 3 requires states to maintain and develop their capacity to resist attack. However, since 2022, it has become increasingly apparent that many NATO members are unprepared for any major military engagement. At the same time, they are increasingly feeling that Russia is more of a threat on their doorsteps. There has been recognition, particularly among the Baltic states, Germany, France and the UK, that they need to increase their military spending and preparedness. For the US to focus more on China, US forces will shift a greater percentage of the US Navy to the Pacific. It will also assign its most capable new ships and aircraft to the region and increase general presence operations, training and developmental exercises, and engagement and cooperation with allied and other navies in the western Pacific. To do this US forces will need to reduce commitments in Europe, and European allies must replace those capabilities in order to sustain deterrence against Russia. The bedrock of the NATO treaty, Article 5, is commonly paraphrased as 'an attack on one is an attack on all.' On his way to the Hague summit, Trump seemed unsure about the US commitment to NATO. Asked to clarify this at the summit, he stated: 'I stand with it [Article 5]. That's why I'm here. If I didn't stand with it, I wouldn't be here.' Lord Ismay, the first secretary-general of NATO, famously (if apocryphally) suggested that the purpose of the alliance was to keep the Russians out, the Americans in and the Germans down. Germany is now an integral part of NATO, and the Americans are in, if distracted. But there are cracks, and Rutte will have his hands full managing Trump's declining interest in protecting Europe if he is to keep the Russians at bay. Andrew Corbett is a senior lecturer in defense studies at King's College London. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Asia Times
6 hours ago
- Asia Times
How Macau's Second World War experience shaped the territory
This year marks the 80th anniversary of the end of the Second World War, a conflict that left few corners of the globe untouched. In East Asia, the small Portuguese-administrated territory of Macau in southern China stood out as a rare neutral territory. But, despite its neutrality, Macau could not escape the war's far-reaching impact. In fact, Macau saw its population treble in the period between 1937 and the end of the war, reaching around half a million people. The newcomers, most of whom had fled the Japanese occupation of China, exceeded the existing residents and influenced all facets of life in Macau. Some went on to shape the territory well beyond the end of the war, helping Macau earn its later status as one of the leading gambling hubs in the world. These people included the late Stanley Ho, the casino tycoon in Macau and one of the key architects of its post-war economy. In his testimony for the 1999 book, Macao Remembers, Ho noted how Macau's wartime atmosphere had inspired him. 'Macao was tiny, and yet a bit like Casablanca – all the secret intelligence, the murders, the gambling – it was a very exciting place', he said. Ho was referring to the fictional version of the French-controlled wartime city of Casablanca in the 1942 Hollywood film, also called 'Casablanca.' As a neutral enclave, Macau was a site of multinational refuge, smuggling of goods and people, espionage, danger and opportunities. Macau is on the south coast of China, across the Pearl River estuary from Hong Kong. Sémhur / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-NC-ND Japan's invasion of China began in the 1930s. As Japanese forces took control of most of the eastern coast from 1937 onward, the Chinese nationalist government moved inland to resist from its relocated capitals, first Wuhan and then Chongqing. By the end of 1940, the most important political, economic, educational and cultural urban centers in China had been occupied. Surrounded by occupied areas, territories under foreign rule in China – such as the Shanghai foreign concessions, Macau and Hong Kong – became 'lone islands.' Their neutral status attracted many thousands of refugees, resistance activists and relocated businesses. Lone islands became supply lifelines for the Chinese resistance and propaganda battlegrounds for opposing sides. They experienced periods of economic boom fueled by the influx of refugees. And they were prime locations for the transfer of information and funds, as well as intelligence collection. Lone islands were also sites of humanitarian relief, connected to diaspora networks and organizations designed to support the Chinese war effort. By the end of 1941, these spaces of neutrality were disappearing. The Shanghai foreign concessions were taken over by Japan and later handed over to a Chinese collaborationist administration, and the British colony of Hong Kong was occupied and placed under Japanese military rule. French-ruled Guangzhouwan, also in south China, was under de facto Japanese control by 1943. Macau, which remained neutral throughout the war, stood as the last lone island – if always subject to Japanese influence. Macau's neutrality drew many from opposing camps. In the late 1930s, most refugees to Macau had come from Shanghai and Guangdong province. The occupation of Hong Kong in late 1941 then brought another wave of displaced persons to Macau. Stanley Ho was among the refugees who arrived in Macau from the neighbouring British colony. He joined his uncle Robert Ho Tung, a renowned businessman who also relocated to Macau during the occupation of Hong Kong. According to Ho's own accounts, his wartime activities were the foundation of a fortune. Several other figures who would become important economic players in Macau's post-war economy, such as businessman Ho Yin, also cut their teeth during the second world war's climate of contingency and opportunity. Working for the Macau Co-operative Company, established by the Japanese to manage trade between Japan and the government in Macau, Ho was involved in bartering materials in exchange for food supplies with Japanese interlocutors. He also had an English-Japanese language exchange with the Japanese intelligence chief in Macau, Colonel Sawa. Through these activities, Ho made important contacts among the different communities who found themselves in Macau during the war. This included powerful intermediaries such as Pedro José Lobo, the head of the economic services in Macau. These connections exposed Ho to the popularity of gambling in Macau and the potential to take it to a different level. Gambling had been legal in Macau since the mid-19th century. But it was during the war that we would see the origins of the casino-hotel model that is now prevalent in the territory. The leading hotels of 1940s Macau, such as Hotel Central and Grande Hotel Kuoc Chai, offered employment to refugee musicians and dancers and were sites of entertainment for those with funds to spend. Hotel Central, one of the leading hotels in 1940s Macau. stefangde / Shutterstock After the end of the second world war, Ho set up a company called Sociedade de Turismo e Diversões de Macau (STDM) with partners including Henry Fok, Teddy Yip and Yip Hon. These were businessmen with links to Hong Kong, mainland China and Indonesia. In 1962, the same year STDM was founded, it earned the exclusive licence to run casinos in Macau, replacing pre-existing magnates who were more prominent during the second world war. One of the key innovations brought by their company's casinos was the popularization of western-style games. They were also involved in philanthropic activities, much the way the wartime gambling tycoons had been, with Macau again seeing the arrival of many destitute displaced persons during the cold war. Gambling has been liberalized in Macau since the early 2000s, and the territory has now surpassed Las Vegas to become the largest casino market in the world. Helena F. S. Lopes is a lecturer in modern Asian history at Cardiff University. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
