Dmitry Orlov

On April 27, an Iranian delegation headed by Minister of Foreign Affairs of Iran Abbas Araghchi was in St. Petersburg, Russia, for meetings with Vladimir Putin and Russian top officials. In his published remarks from their meeting, Putin “confirm[ed] that Russia, just like Iran, intends to maintain our strategic relations.” “Iran-Russia relations are regarded by us as a strategic partnership at the highest level,” Minister of Foreign Affairs of Iran Abbas Araghchi responded.

Note that Araghchi chose to fly to St. Petersburg instead of meeting with some slimy New York City slumlord and Donald Trump’s son-in-law (who is an Israeli stooge) whom Trump inexplicably considers fit to meet with foreign diplomats. Clearly, Araghchi wanted to use his time to solve problems, not to waste time talking to some nobodys.

So, how have Russia and Iran — these two strategic partners — helped each other strategically in recent times? Here is a list of ways in which Russia has helped Iran:

• The Russian army destroyed ISIS* in Syria. If Russia hadn’t destroyed many thousands of ISIS cadres, they would now be used by the US to invade Iran. By eliminating them, Russia eliminated a major threat to Iran.
• In the hapless country formerly known as the Ukraine, which for the past four years and counting has been used by the US and NATO as a proxy to attack Russia, the Russian army has destroyed most of the US and NATO countries’ stockpiles of all types of weapons. If it were not for the Russians, all of this war materiel would now be put to use to destroy Iran. But, as we see, the Americans’ stockpiles are depleted to such an extent that the Americans themselves consider the situation to be dangerous to their own security. This, again, was of major help to Iran.
• Russia is also building a nuclear power plant at Bushehr in Iran. It’s worth remembering that the Iranians had turned to Russia out of desperation: they had first signed a contract with Germany to build this power plant. The Germans screwed them, and only then did the Iranians turn to Rosatom. By the way, Germany was a spectacularly bad choice for this project, given that that country has been busy destroying its existing nuclear power plants, not building new ones.
• Russia has also supplied all kinds of weapons to Iran: air defense systems, fighter jets, bombers, tanks and infantry fighting vehicles, MANPADS, helicopters, small arms, and much more. Western media reports claim Russia is also supplying Iran with intelligence.
• Russia’s Roscosmos has been launching Iranian satellites into space.
Where, then, is the list of ways in which Iran has helped Russia? All we saw from Iran was the sale of Shahed drones during the initial stages of the military operation. These were excellent drones, and Russia was able to modify and improve their original design in many incremental ways, making its Geranium II (initially, a Shahed copy) a highly advanced and formidable weapon.

Was it that the Russians were not in any need of Iranian help, or perhaps too proud to accept it? That is clearly not the case: North Korean troops were most helpful in destroying and expelling Ukrainian Nazi and NATO invaders from Russia’s Kursk region, the southern tip of which was partially occupied by them from May of 2024 to April of 2025. The Koreans fought valiantly and showed themselves to be skilled, disciplined and fearless warriors. In return for their valor, they gained invaluable experience in modern warfare, where the battlefield is saturated with drones and any significant force concentration is automatically detected and targeted. Together with the Russian forces, the Koreans helped destroy some 70 thousand of the invaders, which included professional soldiers from several NATO countries. To commemorate these events, several days ago the Kursk Memorial Complex and Museum were opened in Pyongyang. The event was attended by North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, Russian State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin, and Russia’s Defense Minister Andrei Belousov.

The fact that Russia has done so much more for Iran than Iran for Russia is not in any way unfair or disadvantageous from the Russian point of view. There are many military, geopolitical and economic considerations that make Iran’s security and independence extremely important to Russia — far too many to discuss in a short article.

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Via https://boosty.to/cluborlov/posts/c10c9ae7-ea6c-4aab-ac6b-567bd0db035f

Late Wednesday night — explosions lit up the sky over Tehran. Iranian air defenses opened fire on drones flying over their own capital. No one claimed responsibility. And that silence? That might be the scariest part.

Read more at: https://www.oneindia.com/videos/u-sisrael-bomb-iran-irgc-shoots-down-hostile-drones-over-tehran-with-antiaircraft-guns-video-4300362.html

Masked Palestinians on guard duty during the night to fend off attacks by Israeli settlers, south of Nablus March 1, 2023. (Photo: Nasser Ishtayeh/SOPA Images via ZUMA Press Wire/APA Images)

Majd Jawad

Meet the grassroots network of Palestinian volunteers who spend their nights defending their West Bank villages from escalating Israeli settler violence.

Under the midnight moon atop the mountain in the town of Sinjil, residents carry flashlights, signaling to the hills across the valley. The beams, along with the lights surrounding a small watch tent, usually used as decoration for Ramadan, serve as an early warning system. The signal that the village is awake and watching.

“Do you see that light?” one of the young men asks quietly, pointing toward a flicker across the opposite hill. I nod. For a moment, no one speaks. The wind is sharp at this height, and below us, the village is completely dark.

“That means they’re there,” he says. “Watching, like us.”

As the pace of settler attacks on Palestinian communities reaches unprecedented levels, and amid a weak official response to escalating risks across the occupied West Bank, community-based volunteer groups known locally as protection committees or “night guards” have emerged as a primary line of defense against near-daily violence. The group of youth organizing night patrols in Sinjil is one of them.

The tent itself is a modest, thin fabric stretched over metal poles, its edges weighed down by stones to resist the wind. Yet it has become the village’s front line.

Plastic chairs line its sides, and a shared phone charger hangs from a makeshift electricity connection, powering the devices that keep the village connected through the night. Like others who gather here, the men move between fatigue and alertness, balancing daytime work with the obligation to remain awake until dawn.

“Since the beginning of last year, and as a result of the escalating attacks on Sinjil, we found it necessary to form a committee primarily of volunteers,” says R.M., a regular participant from the village. “We needed to organize the guard duty more effectively and move from a faz’a model to a more organized system.”

What R.M. calls “faz’a” is a Palestinian colloquialism denoting when a collective of people rushes to the aid of other members of the community, representing the organic and spontaneous expression of mutual aid among Palestinians. In the context of escalating settler pogroms, fellow members of the community are about the only protection that Palestinians have from violent Jewish Israeli settlers, who continue to kill Palestinians across West Bank towns.

Since the start of the year, over 260 Palestinians have been injured in attacks by Israeli settlers, according to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), a threefold increase compared to the monthly average of 30 to 105 injuries per month during 2023.

R.M. says that in Sinjil, these attacks have become almost daily. “It was no longer logical to continue with the same old approach in defending our people and lands,” he explains.

In July 2025, a large-scale settler attack near the town left two Palestinians dead and at least 58 others injured. Since then, local accounts indicate a dramatic shift in the frequency of attacks from roughly one incident per month before October 7 to near-daily assaults on the village.

“How often does it happen now?” I ask.

R.M. lets out a short laugh. “You don’t count like that anymore,” he says. “You count the quiet nights.” He pauses. “And there aren’t many.”

Previously, volunteers relied on an individual faz’a whenever an attack occurred, informing neighbors and acquaintances. But as attacks grew more violent and frequent, it became essential to establish committees focused on early warning, monitoring, and observation, enabling the village to gather and defend its unarmed residents.

“As soon as we spot the attacking settlers, we notify the residents via WhatsApp or makhshir (walkie-talkies),” R.M. says, explaining that the protection mechanism was simply about safety in numbers. “The tent’s primary mission isn’t to attack; we do not possess tools or weapons comparable to what the settlers have. Instead, we ensure our bodies are always present in areas likely to be targeted, to deter an attack before it even begins.”

A sudden notification sound cuts through the silence. One of the men picks up the phone, reads quickly, then looks up.

“Movement,” he says.

No one panics, but the atmosphere shifts. Two of them grab flashlights and step outside into the darkness.

They return and talk at length about the difficulties and dangers surrounding them. “The attacks always come unexpectedly,” R.M. adds. “Palestinians are often asleep, usually after midnight or away at work, either outside the village or away farming. The attackers are usually heavily armed, and our reaction is entirely spontaneous.”

On the first night of Ramadan, the committee in Sinjil was blindsided by an attack of about 20 settlers, resulting in the injury of one member and the arrest of others for a week, during which they were severely beaten. At the same time, the army dismantled and confiscated the committee’s tent, according to R.M.’s account.

In the aftermath, the volunteers continued their work through nightly shifts in the open air for several months, exposed to the cold and darkness, until residents of the village collectively donated and helped rebuild another tent to resume their watch. Their work is still ongoing, and so are the settler attacks.

A tradition renewed

The emergence of grassroots protection committees in Palestinian villages reflects not merely a resemblance to past forms of collective action but a continuation of a deeply rooted tradition of community self-organization that dates back to the First Intifada, albeit under profoundly different political conditions.

“Despite the different political context, our historical experience in the First Intifada is similar to the experience of the committees today,”  R.S., a female member of a popular committee from Jenin refugee camp, told Mondoweiss. She now lives in the al-Jabriyat neighborhood in Jenin, after the refugee camp’s residents were forcibly expelled and have not been allowed back.

Between 1987 and 1993, the First Intifada was fought in everyday life. Under curfews, closures, and the constant threat of arrest, Palestinians built their own systems to survive. Local committees emerged in neighborhoods, villages, and refugee camps, organizing food distribution, running underground classes when schools were shut down, and providing basic medical support when access to care was blocked.

R.S expanded on the memory. “It provided many models of community work and steadfastness. No one was hungry then; anyone in need would find someone to help and lend a hand. Many residents offered their homes, mosques, and clubs to those displaced from the camp. No one slept in the open.”

“It’s different now,” she added quietly. “But also the same.”

According to the Colonization & Wall Resistance Commission, an official body aligned with the Palestinian Authority that documents Israeli settlement activity, the origins of the latest incarnation of the protection committees can be traced back to 2015, largely in the wake of the devastating Duma arson attack. Killed in the attack were members of the Dawabsheh family, including 18-month-old Ali and his two parents.

“The need for night guards became clear as a means to prevent settler attacks,” Amir Daoud, Director of Documentation at the Commission, told Mondoweiss. “At that stage, coordination took place with local and student forces, and a limited number of committees were formed in the villages most vulnerable to attack, with simple logistical support such as communication tools.”

One popular example was the “night confusion” units in places like the village of Beita and the battle over Jabal Sabih. The model, however, remained limited until October 7, when Daoud said settler violence escalated sharply across the West Bank, reshaping the role of these committees. What had been localized night-guard initiatives turned into a wider system of community protection, particularly against repeated nighttime arson attempts targeting homes. “This has contributed to the spread of the committee model across many communities,” he added.

But their role, Daoud stressed, extends beyond immediate protection. In a context where violence is often underreported or contested, these committees have become a form of ground-level documentation and public accountability. “These committees convey the situation as it is, moment by moment, from within villages and threatened areas, which gives us the ability to act legally and in the media with speed and effectiveness. Without this popular presence, many violations would remain invisible or difficult to prove. For us, they are an essential part of the system of steadfastness, not merely an organizational tool.”

Their structure, he noted, is deliberately uneven and locally adapted rather than centralized. Each village organizes itself according to geography and the specific threats it faces — whether from settler roads, proximity to outposts, or patterns of raiding. While some communities operate with external support and more advanced coordination tools, others rely on minimal resources, reflecting a fragmented but adaptive system of protection.

Yet while the ethos of collective care and “sumud” remains intact, the tools have fundamentally evolved. What was once organized through leaflets, strikes, and face-to-face mobilization has now shifted toward digital infrastructures that enable real-time coordination and immediate documentation. This transformation has introduced a critical new dimension: the ability to translate local experiences of violence into globally visible narratives.

“Social media has reshaped the nature of collective work within the protection committees,” R.S. from the Jenin committee said. “It relies heavily on applications like WhatsApp and Telegram for instant coordination, whether to report settler movements or organize night guards.”

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Working with less and sharing the burden

Even though they leverage digital technologies, the local protection committees remain hamstrung by limited resources and an unpredictable terrain.

[…]

The groups have also faced harassment and attacks by settlers and the army, including incidents of direct gunfire targeting night patrol volunteers. In the village of Beit Lid, east of Tulkarem, which has faced repeated settler attacks, the committees faced an unexpected form of disruption. Young men in the village reported receiving sudden messages in their WhatsApp groups that appeared to come from the phone of a fellow volunteer who had been detained earlier that night by Israeli forces. The messages warned against gathering or attempting to mobilize in response to the attack.

[…]

“It later became evident to those involved that the phone had been used while he was in custody, turning a tool of coordination into a channel of intimidation.”

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Mutual aid

Another way in which the committees operate is to engage in mutual aid efforts to deal with the aftermath of a settler attack.

[…]

One example of this is the town of Qaryut, which established a community compensation fund for those affected by settler attacks. “We established a committee of eight individuals and divided the tasks among them,” says S.A., a member of the committee. “Some members are responsible for monitoring and organization, others for assessing the damage caused by attacks to facilitate compensation, and others for the early warning system for the village residents.”

The compensation mechanism, he explains, was created to ensure that losses are not borne solely by victims. “The idea was that no one should feel that what happened concerns them alone,” he says, explaining that the entirely self-funded initiative is designed to provide financial support for damaged property, burned farmland, and affected families.

This system has been activated in response to repeated settler attacks in Qaryut, including a September 2024 raid in which two Palestinians were injured, and a March 2026 attack in nearby villages that left three people wounded and several vehicles and municipal property burned. Residents say settler violence has repeatedly combined physical assaults with large-scale agricultural and property damage. Alongside financial compensation, the fund also provides medical and basic health supplies for those injured in ongoing attacks, reinforcing a broader system of communal resilience in the face of repeated settler violence.

Across the West Bank, each community has improvised its own version of this system, using different tools, in different terrain, and carrying different risks.

[…]

Via https://libya360.wordpress.com/2026/04/30/the-night-guards-inside-the-grassroots-network-fighting-back-against-israeli-settler-attacks/

Martin Armstrong

Apr 29, 2026

There has always been this convenient belief that Big Tech operates independently from government, as if the data you store, search, and upload exists in some neutral corporate space, but that illusion is breaking down rapidly as the lines between Silicon Valley and Washington disappear in real time.

Google has now entered into a classified agreement with the Pentagon allowing its artificial intelligence systems to be used for “any lawful government purpose,” which is a phrase that sounds benign until you understand what it actually means in practice.

This is not a narrow contract tied to a single project. It opens the door for integration into mission planning, intelligence analysis, and even weapons targeting systems operating on classified networks, and once those systems are embedded, the distinction between commercial technology and state infrastructure effectively disappears.

At the same time, Google does not retain control over how that technology is ultimately used, because under the terms being reported, the company has no ability to veto lawful government operations, meaning once access is granted, the downstream application is no longer in their hands.  Please be reminded that Google has been collecting data on everyone and everything for decades: Google Maps, Google Search, Google Photos, Google Drive, Gmail, etc.

This is where the narrative people have been told begins to collapse, because for years the assumption was that your data sat within a corporate ecosystem governed by terms of service and internal policies, yet what is now being constructed is something entirely different, a shared infrastructure where private data, artificial intelligence, and state power intersect.

Even inside Google, there is significant resistance to this shift, with more than 600 employees signing letters to CEO Sundar Pichai warning that these systems could be used for “lethal autonomous weapons and mass surveillance,” and expressing concern that once deployed in classified environments, there is no meaningful oversight or transparency. “We want to see AI benefit humanity; not to see it being used in inhumane or extremely harmful ways. This includes lethal autonomous weapons and mass surveillance but extends beyond,” the letter reads.

This is part of a broader shift in which every major AI company is now aligning with the defense sector, competing for contracts reportedly worth hundreds of millions of dollars, thereby transforming artificial intelligence from a commercial tool into a strategic asset within global power dynamics.

From my perspective, this follows the same pattern we see in every major cycle of power consolidation, where private innovation is gradually absorbed into state control during periods of rising geopolitical tension. Once that process reaches a certain threshold, the distinction between public and private effectively vanishes.

People focus on the wrong question, asking whether Google is “sharing your data” directly with the government, when the real issue is far more structural. Once the same systems that process your emails, photos, searches, and behavior are integrated into government operations, the architecture itself becomes unified, and access becomes a matter of policy, not possibility.

When artificial intelligence becomes the interface between data and decision-making, whoever controls that system controls the interpretation of reality itself, and that is where the real power lies. For the first time in history, we are witnessing the convergence of data, technology, and government authority into a single structure that has already become far too powerful to dismantle.

[…]

Via https://www.armstrongeconomics.com/government-surveillance/google-partners-with-the-pentagon-to-sell-your-data/

CBS reports that a major fire aboard the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Higgins has disabled the ship, causing a full loss of power and propulsion in the Indo-Pacific region.

Via https://t.me/presstv/187827