On 28 February, with heavy British complicity, the Americans launched a double-tap Tomahawk missile attack on a girls’ school in Minab, killing 156 civilians, including 120 children. They were able to bomb a girls’ school because there was one to bomb. Minab, you see, is in Iran. It is not in Afghanistan. There would be no such target once Donald Trump had declared the Strait of Hormuz a territory of the United States and proceeded accordingly.
Five years ago today, we wrote off 20 years of blood and treasure by handing back Kabul to the Taliban, leaving behind so many weapons that anyone would have thought that a deal had been struck. They are now closely allied to nuclear-armed India against the nuclear-armed Pakistan that, pace Benjamin Netanyahu, really is the first Islamic republic to have such a capability. With the United States, Pakistan is now about to give the Bomb to Saudi Arabia, which was the real source of the attacks on 11 September 2001, as of so very much before and since. American, and Israeli, partiality towards Saudi Arabia contrasts with Britain’s preference for the United Arab Emirates, of which Matthew Mpoke Bigg writes:
The Rapid Support Forces paramilitary group has pounded the city of El Obeid in south-central Sudan with drones for months. Its goal: wresting it from the Sudanese Army.
The State Department said in June that the paramilitary group was massing its forces around the city and that atrocities could occur if the R.S.F. took control. U.S. officials have warned that El Obeid may suffer the same fate as El Fasher, a major city in Darfur seized last October by the R.S.F., which committed massacres that the United Nations said bore the hallmarks of genocide.
The United Nations and the African Union have echoed those warnings about what could happen if the R.S.F. were to seize El Obeid.
The civil war in Sudan began in April 2023, when the leaders of the military and the R.S.F., which took power in a coup in 2021, fell out with one another. Since then, the conflict has caused one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises, with around 14 million people forced to flee their homes. Some estimates have put the death toll at 400,000. Military commanders have prohibited journalists from traveling to the area. Phone access remains difficult in many parts of the country.
El Obeid is strategically significant, with a highway running through the city that links Darfur, in west Sudan, to the east. A major pipeline in the city transports oil via the Kordofan region to Port Sudan on the Red Sea.
Taking El Obeid would enable the R.S.F. to consolidate its hold on western Sudan, after seizing El Fasher last year. Ahmed Tugud Lissan, a spokesman for the political alliance that is led by the R.S.F., said that the group planned to retake Khartoum, the Sudanese capital, once it had control of El Obeid.
El Obeid had a population of around half a million before the war, and while its present size is unknown, experts with the United Nations say the number of people there has most likely grown in recent months, with residents flocking to the city after fleeing violence elsewhere.
What is the military situation?
Several analysts said this week that the R.S.F. was unlikely to capture El Obeid in the short term. The Sudanese Army is in charge of defending the city and remains firmly in control.
The army seized three towns north of the city in recent weeks, opening up a supply route from Khartoum to El Obeid, which are more than 200 miles apart. “I don’t think it’s ever been that close to falling,” Alan Boswell, Horn of Africa director for the International Crisis Group, said of El Obeid.
Mr. Lissan, for his part, said that his group intended to capture the city and then march on Khartoum, though he acknowledged that it was far from achieving the initial goal.
Several analysts said there was evidence the R.S.F. had reduced the frequency of its strikes on El Obeid in recent weeks as drones attacks have become central to the war.
How about civilians?
The R.S.F. has said that its drone strikes in the city have hit only military targets, but human rights groups say they have killed civilians and hit fuel depots and water plants, causing blackouts and water shortages.
Women are particularly vulnerable because of the attacks, according to a report last month by U.N. Women. The strikes have taken place during the day, forcing women and girls to collect water for households after dark. This has, in turn, led to a rise in rape and sexual assault cases, the report said.
What happened in El Fasher?
El Fasher fell in October after a long siege, which ended when R.S.F. fighters swept into the city. They then filmed themselves conducting executions and massacres.
Now there’s fear of a repeat in El Obeid, though analysts said this week that the ethnic rivalries that drove the violence in El Fasher were less pronounced in El Obeid.
Human rights groups have accused the Trump administration, Britain and the European Union of not doing more to prevent the fall of El Fasher, and some said this week that the warnings on El Obeid in June had not been accompanied by concrete action to deter the R.S.F. from attacking the city.
In particular, they said, insufficient pressure had been put on the United Arab Emirates to stop supplying arms to the group. The New York Times and others have reported that the Emirates has supplied drones and other weapons to the R.S.F.
The Emirati foreign ministry has denied the allegations.
“What’s happening in El Obeid is a combination of global negligence and the weapons supplies coming from abroad,” said Mohamed Osman, a researcher with Human Rights Watch.
Both the R.S.F. and the Sudanese Army have been accused of committing atrocities and violating international law.
The Colombians were used to death, but not on this scale. Many of the mercenaries were special forces veterans or had battled insurgents in the South American jungles. Some had been gunslingers for the South American cartels. A few had already spent years working as contractors in the Middle East. But what they saw in El Fasher was something else entirely.
By the time they arrived in Sudan in 2024, the civil war had already triggered the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. Then came the 18-month siege and capture of the city of El Fasher, the capital of North Darfur. Afterwards, the UN would say that acts of genocide had been committed; one human rights group told British MPs that tens of thousands had been killed. Videos emerged of a paramilitary commander jubilantly executing groups of unarmed captives. When the killing was over, smoke from the pyres of bodies hung over the abandoned neighbourhoods for weeks, visible from space.
When Luis arrived in the city, the streets were eerily empty. There was only the overpowering stench of death. “The air was thick with flies, drawn by both the dead bodies and the heaps of trash,” he said. “There were bodies that had already turned purple from being exposed to the sun for so long . . . it was awful having those flies buzzing around you while you ate.”
Luis and his fellow Colombians were unable to move around without an escort. The paramilitaries they were working with, who controlled the city, told him they were incinerating the dead because they worried about cholera. But some of the sights troubled him — piles of corpses that looked like they had been crushed by vehicles. Bodies of women and children.
There was also the occasional stray dog. Luis loved dogs. They often featured in his pictures from the war, between shots of machine-gun mounted vehicles, ruined buildings or masked men shouldering weapons. Before the final attack, his comrades had spent months tightening a noose of starvation around the city and battering it with drones and artillery. He didn’t dwell too much on what the dogs of El Fasher might have been eating.
When the civil war erupted in 2023, the first battles pitted the military, headed by General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, against the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), led by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as “Hemedti”. But the two sides had once been allies.
Years ago they had worked together to crush a rebellion in Darfur. The military had provided the air support and the RSF’s predecessor, the Janjaweed, launched scorched-earth raids on villages. In 2019, the two forces had co-operated to oust Sudan’s longtime dictator, Omar al-Bashir, following massive protests against his rule. Two years later, they dissolved the fledgling government set up in the heady days after Bashir’s exit, when young activists dared to dream of democracy.
But suspicion and rivalry between the two forces grew. And one Saturday morning in April 2023, the RSF launched attacks across the country, destroying military aircraft, looting cash and gold and stranding panicked citizens wherever they could take shelter. As the conflict spread, and both sides absorbed militias, it took on ethnic overtones. The US sanctioned the RSF for widespread atrocities, including war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide against non-Arab groups, and the military for air strikes on protected infrastructure such as hospitals, the denial of humanitarian access and the use of chemical weapons.
The fighting and resulting famine has prompted 15 million people to flee their homes. After the first year of the war, the US estimated 150,000 people were dead; now it is well into its fourth year and no one is counting any more. In that time, the conflict has metastasised, sucking in regional powers. Iran and Turkey have supplied weapons to the military and Emirati weapons have been found in RSF stockpiles. As refugees flee across the borders, mercenaries from Libya, Chad, South Sudan, Ethiopia and other nations have poured in. Some have come from even further afield.
Luis was one of around 2,000 Colombian mercenaries who arrived in Sudan to fight alongside the RSF. He said the people who brought him there worked for a private security company called the Global Security Services Group (GSSG), based in the United Arab Emirates. Run by South African managers, it is alleged to have links to the UAE authorities. GSSG did not reply to requests to comment for this story.
Interviews with Luis and six of his fellow fighters offer a detailed picture of how a prominent UAE security firm appears to have funnelled mercenaries and arms into the battlefield in Sudan, even as Emirati leaders pledged publicly to help bring peace. The UAE has repeatedly denied supporting the RSF since the war erupted or having any involvement in the recruitment of mercenaries. However, the UAE has long-held ties to the RSF and fears that the Sudanese Armed Forces is infiltrated by Islamist groups that it considers a threat to security along the Red Sea. Human rights groups say the deployment of mercenaries in support of the RSF would be impossible without de facto UAE government approval.
Among the Colombians who spoke to the FT were specialists, officers and frontline fighters. They all asked to use pseudonyms for security reasons, and gave details on everything from unit organisation and the names of their commanders, to how they were paid and what their duties entailed.
They said they were deployed using a network of shadow planes and airports in countries that are key Emirati allies, from Kufra, a city in eastern Libya, to Somalia’s northern region of Puntland and the military wing of Chad’s airport. Their accounts are supported by flight manifests and the immigration and travel records of a significant number of Colombians, as well as eyewitness videos and photos, an analysis of device-tracking data, and Sudanese witnesses.
Manuel, a former senior mercenary who said he trained in Kufra, worked with South African and Ukrainian fighters in Darfur in 2024. He left, he said, after the danger and suffering became too much: “I have never in my life seen such poverty and misery. It’s heartbreaking . . . Displaced families . . . face a choice between starving to death or driving a car, carrying a rifle, having food.”
“There are kids no older than 12 carrying rifles they can’t lift and bearing the responsibility of a war in which they don’t even know what they’re supposed to do,” Manuel told me. “It’s the Emirates that put in the most money and resources in the conflict and who provide weapons to the RSF.”
The Gulf state has many interests in Sudan. When war began, the UAE lost billions of dollars in business concerns there, including in gold mining, agriculture and a port deal that was part of its broader push to project power in the Red Sea region and control the maritime routes that feed its wealth.
Emirati officials have said they fear the resurgence of Islamists, some of whom are in powerful positions in the military. The UAE says Sudan’s military is aligned with the Muslim Brotherhood, an Islamist movement that denounces Gulf monarchies as corrupt. The UAE also has a longstanding relationship with the leader of the RSF, who sent thousands of Sudanese mercenaries to fight in Yemen on the UAE’s behalf.
The Colombians came for simpler reasons. “Emirati money buys a lot of conscience,” Manuel told me ruefully. Colombian fighters are valued by security firms and even by the US military for their training and experience in guerrilla warfare. Many are veterans of their own nation’s 60-year internal conflict, experts at counterinsurgency and urban warfare. Colombians are fighting for Russia and for Ukraine.
Sudan’s war began drawing in mercenaries as soon as fighting began: operatives from Russia’s Wagner group who already had gold interests there, rival Ukrainian drone operators who worked for both sides, and freelancers from across the Sahel. But the Colombian operation was the biggest, best organised and most effective intervention. Recruitment for the Sudan operation started in Colombia in mid-2024, the fighters said. Job offers trickled in through WhatsApp from friends and former comrades, two former mercenaries said. The Emirati company they say contracts them, GSSG, described itself on its website as “the only armed private security services provider to the UAE government”.
Manuel said he was sent to Sudan in October 2024 with the first battalion of Colombian fighters to establish a bridgehead for supplies. He described dust-choked convoys of armoured vehicles snaking south into Darfur through the shimmering Libyan desert. Luis was in the second battalion, funnelled through an Emirati-funded base in northern Somalia’s city of Bosaso in the belly of an ageing Russian aircraft, he said. His unit held the battered airport in Darfur’s southern city of Nyala against the military and then fanned out into secret desert camps. The third battalion was on the front lines of capturing El Fasher.
One fighter, Carlos, described how around 300 specialists were secretly trained in drones and anti-aircraft weapons in the UAE from January to October 2025 before arriving in Sudan. He said many spent about three months there. His account was backed up by two men who also said they participated in training in the UAE, and an analysis of phone tracking data from the US-based firm Conflict Insights Group (CIG), a research organisation analysing open-source information in the public interest, as well as a report by Human Rights Watch that identified two Emirati bases in the mercenaries’ social media posts.
“The UAE funded and trained mercenaries who supported the RSF’s takeover in El Fasher,” said Justin Lynch, head of CIG. “Mercenaries were present when the RSF captured the city and committed some of the most gruesome killings so far this century.” Some of these mercenaries were trained at an Emirati base — “impossible without the approval of the government,” Lynch said. “The digital trail connects Abu Dhabi’s training camp to El Fasher’s mass graves.”
The deployment had teething problems. Carlos said many mercenaries quit and others were on the verge of mutiny after their payments were blocked by a Colombian bank for two months — until leaders announced a cash payment had been flown in from the Emirates. Although Colombians formed the bulk of the mercenary force, Carlos said he also worked alongside Ukrainians, Russians, Spanish and Panamanian men.
Two more mercenaries described how the third battalion captured El Fasher alongside soldiers from the RSF, providing the FT with videos of Colombian mercenaries firing near a mosque and carrying a wounded comrade. “Fuego! Fuego!” — “Fire! Fire!” — one man yells in the video as gunshots ring out.
Three Colombians were killed in the area where the video was taken and two were injured, one fighter said. The battalion had had two months of combat training, but it took the most casualties. According to two mercenaries, the third battalion got big bonuses from GSSG when the city fell.
The first public hint that Colombian mercenaries were in Sudan came in November 2024, when the Sudanese military published photos of two passports abandoned in a desert ambush in Darfur. The military announced the men had been killed, but their comrades said both had in fact escaped although one was wounded. His name later showed up on travel records.
The company the Colombians claimed to be working for, GSSG, was founded in 2016 by Ahmed Mohamed al-Humairi, the secretary general of the UAE’s Presidential Court. The company’s website, which describes it as “an independent private security company”, has listed clients including the Presidential Court and the ministries of Foreign Affairs and the Interior. A LinkedIn post from one GSSG employee in New York said he provided security to travelling Middle Eastern royalty.
The UAE, a longtime US ally led by Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed al-Nahyan, one of the Arab world’s most influential leaders, has supported President Donald Trump diplomatically and personally. It was the first nation to join Trump’s Board of Peace and is a major investor in the US. The Trump Organization, headed by the president’s sons, is also pursuing real estate and has conducted cryptocurrency deals with Emirati entities. In December 2025, the Trump administration imposed sanctions on what it described as a “transnational network” composed primarily of Colombian individuals and entities that officials said “trains soldiers, including children, to fight for the Sudanese paramilitary group known as the Rapid Support Forces.” The US Treasury Department accused the network of supporting the RSF in El Fasher where fighters “engaged in mass killings of civilians, ethnically targeted torture, and sexual violence”. The administration has not mentioned the UAE or GSSG. Humairi did not respond to requests for comment sent to his office.
One mercenary said that while GSSG is a private company, the training staff in the UAE appeared to be from the Emirati army. Colombians there were separated into special units such as drone operators, anti-aircraft gun operators and radar operators. Drone training in the UAE was provided by GSSG and Emiratis in military uniforms, he explained. He could not identify units or individuals. “You’ll never find out about the Emirati units; you don’t ask questions there.”
Both he and another Colombian said they had trained at a base in Ghayathi in Abu Dhabi, described by a UN panel of experts in 2021 as a “military camp” that had previously trained Sudanese mercenaries hired by a UAE company, Black Shield, under the supervision of UAE military officers. One fighter described Emirati trainers, and another said he’d been trained “by Arabs”, but declined to provide details. Manuel confirmed that some of his colleagues had received drone training at Ghayathi. Human Rights Watch identified the base and an apparent military facility in Al Wathba in Abu Dhabi from footage posted on social media accounts by Colombians.
The UAE, along with the US, Saudi Arabia and Egypt, is part of “the quad” — a group of nations tasked with bringing peace to Sudan. A UAE official said: “The UAE categorically rejects the allegations . . . UAE authorities conducted thorough investigations into allegations concerning GSSG. Those investigations . . . confirmed that GSSG is not involved in any mercenary activity in Sudan and does not have links to individuals reported to be mercenaries in Sudan. The investigations found that GSSG is acting in full compliance with UAE laws and regulations and international law.”
“The UAE has not provided arms, materiel, or any kind of military support to any warring party in Sudan since the outbreak of the conflict and categorically denies facilitating the movement of mercenaries or foreign fighters into Sudan including Darfur . . . The UAE, as a member of the United Nations, is committed to implementing United Nations Security Council resolutions, including those related to UN sanctions regimes.”
The White House did not respond to a request for comment. A US Treasury Department spokesman declined to comment on investigations. A State Department spokesperson did not respond to questions on the Emirates’ role in Sudan’s conflict but said “both the RSF and the SAF [Sudanese Armed Forces] have used weapons acquired from foreign actors against the civilian population and infrastructure, and have committed human rights violations and abuses.”
The first battalion led the way into Darfur, said Manuel. On the journey from Libya to Sudan, they lived in the desert, hiding their vehicles under trees. They were frequently attacked by cargo planes dropping barrels of explosives. Tents and vehicles were sometimes hit by shrapnel. The planes flew so low that eventually fighters were able to shoot them down with machine guns, Luis said.
According to Luis, each battalion was divided into companies commanded by a major. The second battalion had the Scorpions, Bisons and Caracals, each consisting of three platoons of 31 operators, with three additional squad supervisors and a commanding officer. Operators received US$2,600 monthly, supervisors $2,800 and officers $3,500. The second battalion had about 400 men, with similar numbers in other battalions, he said.
The battalion said they travelled to Darfur through the Somali city of Bosaso, in the semi-autonomous state of Puntland, according to Luis and three other mercenaries. The UAE operates a military base there, with a covered hangar, on the grounds of Bosaso International Airport. The Puntland Maritime Police Force, a paramilitary outfit established in 2010 and trained in a scheme backed by Blackwater founder Erik Prince, with UAE support, also has a base at the airport. A senior Somali security official told me that the UAE pays more than 3,000 members of that maritime force.
Five mercenaries said Bosaso was a key logistics and medical base. One, named Rodrigo, said he trained in Bosaso and described it as “a hub for mercenaries being sent to Sudan and to other parts of Africa where conflicts are ongoing”. The training, he said, included weapons handling, strength training, running, swimming and boat techniques. “When I arrived, there were Africans, South Africans and Latin Americans, Colombians, Peruvians, a Mexican and a Guatemalan,” he said. “Around 200 people were undergoing training.” Luis and several other mercenaries told me that there were “many children trained as fighters” – aged 13, 14 or 15. Some told him that the Sudanese military had killed their families.
The training did not, however, adequately prepare the Colombian recruits for the war, Rodrigo said. “Once they reached Sudan, the recruits were completely lost,” he said. Drone attacks were common and different forces were difficult to distinguish from one another. “They truly had no idea what they were fighting against. They were simply told: ‘Be careful. This is roughly your area, from this point to that point.’ And then they would fall into ambushes and get killed by people on the ground. I never learned whether those attackers were guerrillas, the Sudanese military or irregular armed groups. I never knew who they were fighting — and neither did the men.”
Rodrigo said he was recruited by a former Colombian army colonel named Álvaro Andrés Quijano Becerra, who he said was “trusted deeply by the Emiratis, who provide him with resources, logistics, equipment, transportation, everything”. Last December, the Treasury Department imposed sanctions on Quijano — whom it identified as a UAE-based associate of the former Colombian drug cartel Norte del Valle — for what it said was his “central role in recruiting and deploying former Colombian military personnel to Sudan . . . including drone operators, snipers, and translators”.
Luis said the recruiters targeted cartel members because they “came straight from an active war zone” so had maintained their weapons training better than some veterans. Flight records confirm Quijano’s presence last April in Bosaso. The FT was unable to reach him for comment.
The Bosaso base was also used to store the bodies of deceased mercenaries, according to Luis. “Some of the comrades who died have been frozen in Bosaso for over six months,” he said. Official death records for three Colombians, dated November 1 2024, note that they were killed by a “gas explosion” in Puntland, but two other mercenaries said they were drone operators killed in action. Luis said, “The injured are taken to Bosaso. They recover and then go back in.”
In Nyala, where Luis’s unit was frequently bombed by the military at the city’s airport base, he said, the Colombians would frequently capture people who came near the airport, which is controlled by RSF fighters and closed to civilian flights, suspecting them of taking pictures or recording video. “There was a tent for the local commanders inside the base. We would take the locals we captured to the commanders’ tent,” Luis said. “They used to torture them . . . At one point, they were torturing a man, and we went over and told them to stop — we said we’d just kill him ourselves because the wailing and groaning had become unbearable.”
In 2025, he said, the Sudanese military bombed an aircraft that was stranded on the runway after developing a fault. About 50 people were killed. Luis helped to bury the bodies. He was still haunted by the screams of men burning alive.
Several of the Colombians said they knew of colleagues who had been in El Fasher, but denied being present during any killings of civilians themselves. Luis said he came after the fighting had finished and insisted that the Colombians were not involved in the crimes that were reported by human rights organisations — the massacre of patients in hospital beds, gang rapes, kidnappings with executions on camera and the crushing of fleeing civilians with armoured vehicles.
But that doesn’t mean they intervened. Human Rights Watch interviewed one survivor of El Fasher who said white men were present when civilians, including women and disabled people, were executed as they tried to cross a vast earthen wall the RSF built around the city to stop residents escaping.
To verify some of the details provided to me for this story, the Conflict Insights Group tracked communication devices using commercially available technology including anonymised cookies on mobile phones.
The analysis revealed a constant flow of travel between the UAE, Emirati-supported hubs including Bosaso and Kufra, and Sudanese cities including Nyala and El Fasher. The patterns support claims that the UAE is routing support through Somalia, Libya and other nations despite a UN embargo on arms to Darfur. CIG’s tracking technique allows researchers to geofence an area, search for devices inside it during a specific date range, then examine them by language setting and follow their movements.
At least 40 devices using Spanish-language settings popped up at the UAE-financed Puntland Maritime Police Force base between April and December last year. At least 10 of those also showed up in Sudan at the Nyala airport. From February 6 to June 25, one device was in southern Darfur, connecting to networks called “DRONES” and “LOBOS DEL DISIERTO” [sic]. Lobos del Desierto — Desert Wolves — is the Colombian mercenary brigade led by Quijano, according to the US Treasury Department.
CIG provided the FT with data on three sites across Darfur where Colombian mercenaries trained in Ghayathi were deployed. One device appeared repeatedly in a small wooded area near a village outside Nyala, about three miles from what appears in satellite imagery to be a runway. The area has been bombed, residents said. One local farmer said he had seen foreign mercenaries there and regular drone flights. He showed a cellphone video of a drone flying, his voice in the background, as evidence. “They have a big camp there where the Colombians do training for many soldiers,” the farmer said. They were white men speaking a foreign language that the Sudanese recruits called “Colombian”.
CIG found at least four other Spanish-language devices at Ghayathi from April to September. Two of them subsequently travelled to South Darfur. One went to the Nyala airport and logged into WiFi networks named “ANTIAEREO” — anti-aircraft — and “AirDefense”. The other went to a small compound around 19 miles from Nyala.
Another Spanish-language device was present in El Fasher from October 24 through October 29, a period when the prosecutor at the International Criminal Court in The Hague said war crimes were committed. That device appeared in Colombia in April, stayed for two weeks at the maritime force’s base in Bosaso in June, then appeared at the Nyala airport, where it logged on to a WiFi network called “attacker”. It was in El Fasher for at least five days in late October as the city fell. At the beginning of November, after the fall of El Fasher, the device returned to Nyala and stayed through December.
A comparison of the movement of the tracked devices with available commercial flight tracking data suggests they mostly travelled by “ghost flights”, in which pilots switch off transponders and other identifying signals. Some commercial flight manifests recorded Colombians arriving in Bosaso on the days that the devices popped up there; but planes leaving Bosaso often turned off their transponders.
The capture of El Fasher has carved up Sudan — the RSF now holds the west and parts of the south, while the Sudanese military holds the north and the east. But frontline battles continue, with the city of El Obeid now surrounded and besieged.
Last December, the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organized Crime reported that the sprawling conflict was spilling across Sudan’s borders to threaten the region, drawing in fighters and weapons from farther afield, supercharging the proliferation of weapons and the evolution of mercenary networks. The report’s author, Emadeddin Badi, said the introduction of skilled operators such as the Colombians was a serious escalation of the war, fuelling a regional arms race.
Both the RSF and the military have acquired advanced lethal drone systems, and the battlefield is now awash with sophisticated anti-aircraft systems and portable missiles that threaten civilian aircraft. The New York Times revealed a Sudanese military base in Egypt and an RSF logistics hub in Chad. Reuters revealed an RSF base in Ethiopia, an RSF logistics hub in Libya, and an aviation company owned by a US special forces veteran running flights for the RSF.
The same network that sent the Colombians to Sudan recruited hundreds of Salvadoreans to the mineral-rich Democratic Republic of Congo to support the military there, according to Luis. But the managers were now sending the Salvadoreans home. “The project started with Salvadoreans but they lacked discipline,” Luis said. “After that, they went with the Colombians. We’re very disciplined. We’re used to following orders.”
Luis is considering his options: there are not a lot of opportunities for retired soldiers in Colombia, which is settling into an uneasy peace after years of its own internal conflict. But there are jobs with Mexican cartels, the war between Ukraine and Russia, and now new ventures in Africa — the war in Sudan and projects in the Congo.
“War has always been a part of our lives — for years, it has been the driving force that strips away our fear and removes our limits,” Luis said. “As retired or pensioned military personnel, we don’t have many opportunities in our own country; that is why we seek new ones based on the skills we possess — once a soldier, always a soldier. I have lost many friends made throughout my military career and on these assignments . . . We leave our homes and our country . . . only to end up lost in a war that isn’t ours. Our families might never even learn what became of us — or hear the truth.”
NATO military chief, general Alexus Grynkewich, has spoken of how Ireland’s Shannon airport is crucial in allowing the US military to “project power” globally. In other words, Ireland is a critical cog in a war machine that has delivered genocidal violence this century, particularly to the people of West Asia.
Grynkewich is also commander of US European Command. He was speaking to RTÉ, telling them Shannon functions as a “very important logistics hub”. He continued:
It allows America to project power and keep threats at bay from all over the world. I think there are some significant security implications to losing access air. Would we able to find somewhere else that we could use? Perhaps. But Ireland’s been a great partner by providing access air for years, and that’s let us hold terrorist threats at bay. That’s helped us to stabilise Iraq and other places.
“Stabilise Iraq” is an interesting way to describe the destruction of a nation by the US and allies through their illegal war launched in 2003. The criminal assault resulted in around 300,000 violent deaths, with hundreds of thousands more dying as a result of societal collapse triggered by American aggression.
NATO chief: millions of US troops flow through Shannon airport
Shannon Watch monitors military flights through the airport of what is supposedly a militarily neutral country. They say:
Between 2001 and 2012, around two million US troops passed through Shannon as part of the US war effort in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Additionally:
The total number of US soldiers through Shannon Airport between 1991 and 2026 is likely to be up or above four million. During this period Brown University Costs of War Project estimates that US led wars over this period across the wider Middle East region caused direct and indirect deaths of over 4.5 million people.
They correctly say that:
Ireland [is] complicit in these deaths and in the genocide in Palestine.
“Complicit” perhaps doesn’t adequately cover it. “Participant” may be a more appropriate descriptor for Ireland’s criminal involvement in these atrocities. MicheáI Martin’s Zionist government has admitted allowing a US warplane to ferry weapons through Shannon to so-called ‘Israel’ in October 2025. At that stage, the land thieves of Tel Aviv were already two years into their holocaust in Gaza.
Shannon has recently been key to US war crimes in Iran. As again revealed by The Ditch:
Two US Air Force aircraft stopped at Shannon Airport before flying straight to the main European hub used to transport weapons for use against Iran.The planes arrived in Ireland the same day a US-backed Israeli airstrike killed more than 150 schoolgirls in Iran.
The good news is that the Irish public have a chance to deal a blow to this sort of grotesque violence by pressuring the government to end US use of the base. Grynkewich admitted that issues the US had with “access and basing” were “very unhelpful” to its criminal attempts at regime change in Iran. This is perhaps a reference to the likes of Spain, who unlike Ireland refused the US access to their air bases during the war.
Pathetic Irish legacy media lead drumbeat for war
One of the reasons Ireland has this sorry record of aiding war crimes is the supine media that fails to properly highlight the country’s connection to them. In his interview with the NATO commander, RTÉ’s Tommy Meskill went one step further, however. He proceeded with an embarrassing series of questions implying Ireland was being insufficiently servile to the US-led death cult. These are italicised below:
Many would say there’s insufficient defence spending. Is that a concern for the United States and NATO?
– This unspecified ‘many’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting on behalf of the pro-war Irish ruling class. The population in general do not back Ireland moving further towards militarism.
Some would say that Ireland is a weak link…Is Ireland a weak link?
– Again, the anonymised quantifier ‘some’ is struggling to bear the weight of bullshit Meskill is placing upon it. This ‘weak link’ concept is the notion that Ireland leaves NATO vulnerable by hosting so much US infrastructure in the form of data centres and sea cables. The question shouldn’t be about weak links, but rather when Ireland will break the chain attaching itself to this criminal hegemon.
Would you agree that that Ireland enjoys the benefits and not the downsides?
– This is Meskill’s attempt to push the ‘Ireland as freeloader’ narrative, cooked up by business interests gunning for increased Irish defence spending.
I wonder, would you have liked to have met with our defence minister or even Taoiseach?
And…
Is it a disappointment that you didn’t get to meet the defence minister or Taoiseach on this visit?
– Or, asked another way: are we prostrating ourselves adequately before your highness? Has the imperial boot not been sufficiently licked on this occasion?
Even Grynkewich at times seemed embarrassed by the tone of questioning. He largely fobbed off these prompts urging him to say Ireland must double-down on militarism. Instead he said such decisions were a matter for the Irish people.
If the people had a real say, Ireland likely would not be up to its neck in blood as a result of embedding itself in the apparatus of US violence. Sadly, the coalition of Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael have disdain for democracy, and ignore public sentiment in favour of continued subservience to their US masters.
A German court this month decided that comparing Israel to Nazi Germany is protected legal speech, highlighting a growing conflict between constitutional protections and Berlin’s political commitment to Tel Aviv.
The regional court acquitted a woman convicted in a lower court over social media posts comparing Israel’s conduct in Gaza with the methods of the Nazi regime.
In recent years, Germany’s support for Israel has increasingly shaped policing, administrative decisions and criminal prosecutions.
After 7 October 2023, Germany banned Hamas and Samidoun, a Palestinian advocacy group, while increasingly using laws originally aimed at preventing a Nazi revival to crack down on criticism of Israel.
The recent court ruling, which found that the woman’s use of Nazi imagery in the context of Israel’s conduct in Gaza constituted protected political expression, rejected the prominent notion within German circles that such analogies are inherently criminal in nature.
Taking into account the ongoing discussion about Israel committing genocide in Gaza, alongside the International Criminal Court warrants against top Israeli politicians and the pending cases against Israel and Germany at the International Court of Justice, the German government is far from achieving public consensus.
Even before the events of 7 October 2023 and the war that followed, more than a third of Germans polled said they believed that what Israel was doing to the Palestinian people was “in principle the same thing the Nazis did to the Jews in the Third Reich”.
Public opinion has since soured further, with more than 60 percent of Germans now favouring European sanctions on Israel.
Moral reflection
Comparisons between Israel and Nazi Germany have been part of academic, philosophical and legal debates since the establishment of the state of Israel, founded in 1948 amid the brutal extermination and ethnic cleansing of the indigenous Palestinian population.
These comparisons have long appeared in discussions of Palestinian, Israeli and German memory, identity and moral reflection. Shoah and Nakba both mean “catastrophe”, and scholars such as Amos Goldberg and Bashir Bashir have examined them as interconnected national traumas.
They raise questions of historical responsibility and inherited guilt, especially regarding how the memory of one catastrophe shapes the interpretation of another.
The interconnection also remains visible in contemporary German discourse on Jewish memory: in 2023, Masha Gessen compared Gaza to Jewish ghettos under Nazi occupation, sparking controversy around the Hannah Arendt Prize.
The controversy reveals a particular German claim to authority over how Jewish memory may be invoked and how Palestinian suffering may be compared to it.
During the First Intifada, some Israeli soldiers described identifying with the Nazis while witnessing the persecution of Palestinians, with one revealing in a study on the 1987-93 uprising: “I felt like, like, like a Nazi … it looked exactly like we were actually the Nazis and they were the Jews.”
Yet over the past decade, Germany’s commitment to Israel’s security has evolved from a foreign policy principle into a broader framework shaping domestic governance.
Although this “reason of state” has no independent legal force, it has increasingly influenced decisions by ministries, universities, municipalities and law enforcement authorities. The recent court judgment, however, makes clear that such political commitments cannot replace constitutional standards when determining the legality of political speech.
Governments can pursue particular foreign policy objectives, but courts remain bound by constitutional principles rather than executive preferences. The decision thus implicitly rejects attempts to transform Germany’s “reason of state” into a quasi-constitutional construct capable of restricting political speech.
In doing so, it reasserts the autonomy of constitutional law against the growing influence of political doctrine.
Broader transformation
Remembering Germany’s Nazi past, and the role that lawmakers and the judicial system played in supporting the prosecution and torture of minorities, judges today have a moral obligation to refrain from considering government ideology as a justification for suppressing oppositional opinions - especially in light of Berlin’s support for an Israel that is ethnically cleansing Palestine and southern Lebanon.
The free-speech case reflects a broader transformation in contemporary Germany. Criminal proceedings relating to Palestine have increasingly become symbolic struggles over national identity and historical memory.
Such debates are rarely confined to the particulars of a single slogan or image, functioning instead as mechanisms through which the state seeks to reproduce a particular interpretation of Germany’s postwar responsibility. From this perspective, the courtroom becomes a place where differing interpretations of history, democracy and state legitimacy are negotiated.
The recent judgement does not establish an unrestricted right for dissenters to compare Israel with Nazi Germany, nor does it dismantle German laws against Holocaust denial or incitement. Rather, it insists that criminal law cannot become an instrument for enforcing political consensus.
Constitutional rights exist precisely to protect political expression, particularly where governmental interests favour its restriction.
Whether the ruling marks the beginning of a broader judicial shift remains uncertain. German courts continue to issue inconsistent decisions on Palestine-related speech, leaving activists, journalists and scholars uncertain about the limits of lawful expression.
Counter-terrorism laws are being tightened, activists are being tried for membership of a criminal organisation, and court decisions are still unclear as to whether the slogan “from the river to the sea” is legally forbidden.
But given Germany’s own history of judicial complicity in legitimising state persecution, judges carry a particular constitutional responsibility to ensure that political commitments - however deeply rooted - do not override fundamental rights.
No comments:
Post a Comment