A pope intervenes – and hits the nerve of this war!!
On Saturday evening, Pope Leo XIV stands in St. Peter’s Basilica and says what almost no one is saying this clearly these days. He does not speak about front lines or strategies. He speaks about an attitude – about what he calls the illusion of limitless power. And he says that this very attitude is driving the war between the United States, Israel, and Iran. It is not a passing remark. It is a direct criticism of a policy that defines itself through strength and derives decisions from it that have long since spun out of control. Leo names no names. But everyone understands who he means.
In Washington, military superiority has been the argument for weeks, accompanied by religious justifications that attempt to morally elevate this war. The pope stands against it. Without noise. He speaks of self-deification, of money as the only measure of all things, and he calls for negotiations – at the very moment when the United States and Iran are speaking directly to each other in Pakistan for the first time.
The weight of these words does not lie in their volume. It lies in who speaks them. Leo XIV is the first pope from the United States. When he speaks about the illusion of limitless power, he is not speaking about a foreign country. He is speaking about his own. This is not a contradiction from the outside. It is one from within – calm, precise, at a moment when it is being decided whether this conflict can still find a way out. Voices like this are rare.
And they come even more rarely at the right time.
No matter how it ends – Trump already declares himself the winner
Standing in front of the White House on Saturday, Donald Trump speaks to journalists about a war that is still ongoing and about negotiations that are not yet finished. And yet for him, everything is already decided. The United States has won, he says. Regardless of whether there is an agreement with Iran or not. That such statements harm the talks in Islamabad does not concern him. It is a sentence that says more about the moment than any military assessment. While negotiations continue in Pakistan and even close aides are working on a ceasefire, the president simply declares the outcome irrelevant. Maybe there will be a deal, maybe not. It makes no difference. America wins either way.
This attitude coincides with a reality that cannot be talked away. The Strait of Hormuz remains barely passable, tankers are waiting, the supply of oil and gas remains uncertain. At the same time, the US military is searching for mines in the strait, a clear sign that the situation is anything but under control. Trump speaks of deep talks with Tehran, but his words sound as if he is standing aside, unwilling above all to be the one who has to wait for a result. While others negotiate, he already declares himself the winner. It is the tone of a president who does not wait for the outcome but defines it. And in doing so, accepts that a gap opens between claim and reality that becomes more visible with each passing day.
Hungary’s system begins to tilt – and the first are jumping ship
Massive anti-Orbán rally in Debrecen, Hungary – once an Orbán stronghold – ahead of today’s decisive election
Something is happening in Budapest that long seemed unthinkable. People from the very institutions Viktor Orbán has relied on for years are stepping back. Not quietly, not behind closed doors, but publicly. Researchers, investigators, military figures, economists. People who were part of this system are suddenly speaking about how it really works. Zalán Alkonyi, a Russia expert from the environment of the Mathias Corvinus Collegium, describes pressure that has nothing to do with open censorship but changes everything. Those who work there know what is expected. Those who speak about Russia know what is not supposed to be said. Alkonyi says he restricted himself for years until he no longer could. Now he openly opposes the government line.
He is not alone. A former investigator reports that political expectations decided investigations. An officer leaves the military. A chief economist departs because probes into government-aligned companies were blocked. These are not followers. These are people from within. The timing is no coincidence. Ahead of the election, Orbán appears vulnerable. In polls, his party trails the new opposition. And suddenly it becomes visible how much of the previous stability rested on dependency. Those who wanted to advance stayed silent. Those who wanted to remain adapted.
Now the mere prospect of a change in power is enough to shake this order. People who long accommodated themselves begin to speak. Not necessarily because they suddenly see everything differently, but because they believe something might change. At the same time, pressure from outside is growing. Reports of influence from Russia, of targeted campaigns and digital attacks, are in the room. The government rejects this and points toward Brussels or Ukraine. But internally, something is breaking open that can no longer be controlled so easily.
What is becoming visible here is not a sudden upheaval. It is the slow unraveling of a system that worked for years because many remained silent. Now they are speaking. And that could ultimately matter more than any poll.
It hardly gets more reckless – Hegseth talks – Islamabad pays the price
While negotiations are taking place in Islamabad, Pete Hegseth stands in Washington and says that Iran begged for the ceasefire. One has to pause on that sentence. Not because of its brazenness, although that is considerable. But because of its timing. Vance is at the table. The Iranian delegation is at the table. And the defense secretary of the country negotiating there tells the world that the other side was crying before they even sat down.
Anyone who speaks like that pulls the ground out from under his own people. Not out of malice. Out of a mixture of overconfidence and loss of reality that in this moment is more dangerous than any intent. For the Iranian side, the domestic pressure tightens immediately. Every gesture toward an agreement now carries the weight of that sentence. Every concession looks like what Hegseth described – capitulation, publicly certified by the adversary.
Either you negotiate, or you perform for the audience at home. Vance knows that. Whether Hegseth knows it is less certain. In the end, those pay the price who are currently trying in Islamabad to find a way out of this war. Quietly, without cameras, without press releases – while Hegseth talks.
Islamabad turns into a ghost city – negotiations under maximum security
Islamabad is a city under exceptional conditions this weekend. Roads blocked, shops closed, hardly any traffic. What is usually loud remains silent. Motorcycles are gone, cars as well. Even on Jinnah Avenue, normally one of the busiest arteries of the city, shutters are down. The reason sits a few kilometers away in a secured complex. At the Serena Hotel, American and Iranian representatives are meeting directly for the first time in years. While talks take place inside, a massive security presence outside ensures that nothing disrupts this moment. Thousands of police, soldiers, checkpoints at every corner.
This reality begins at the airport. Journalists are escorted by heavily armed units, SWAT teams move ahead, every step is monitored. Anyone approaching the negotiation site passes multiple controls, is searched, checked, stopped again. The tension is tangible. On the Iranian side, there are open concerns that delegation members could become targets. On the American side as well. The list of possible threats is long, from past attack plans to current tensions following targeted killings of high-ranking Iranian figures.
At the same time, Pakistan is presenting itself as the host of these talks. In the press center, images run in a loop, outside coffee cups are handed out with “Brewed for Peace,” as if to show that history is being written here. But behind this staging stands a simple fact. These talks are taking place in an environment where every mistake can have consequences. That is why everything is shut down, controlled, secured.
And as the night passes, journalists remain on site and wait. Not for grand statements, but for any sign that these talks are more than just another attempt.
The next reporting will follow around 4:00 PM CET. Almost all of us have been on our feet for more than 70 hours. Times like these demand it as a simple fact.
Next week, ICE will be in focus, and further planning for the Middle East begins today.
No effort, no result. Anyone who wants fact-based journalism and democracy knows that neither comes on their own and neither comes for free.
The journey continues.
Bye, bye Islamabad.
Black Sea – a contamination that keeps growing
At the Black Sea, a problem is emerging that can no longer be ignored. What began as an oil spill has reached a new dimension. To the residue from a tanker accident now comes a second substance that makes everything even more complicated. Palm oil. Along the coast in southern Russia, volunteers have been working for weeks against a mixture that settles and is difficult to remove. Oil, sand, and now hardened fat masses combine into a sticky layer stretching for kilometers. Two kilometers of beach have been cleaned so far, but other sections remain affected.
The problem lies not only in the quantity but in the structure of this mixture. At low temperatures, palm oil solidifies, bonds with existing residues, and forms a dense mass that can neither be easily washed away nor mechanically removed. Many areas are difficult to access, equipment cannot reach them. So manual labor remains. For wildlife, this means renewed stress. Birds continue to be collected in large numbers, cleaned, cared for. Rescue centers lack everything – staff, materials, time.
Where the palm oil comes from is unclear. Possible sources include accidents during port handling, but also illegal tank cleaning by ships at sea. Such practices are known because they save costs and are difficult to detect. What is certain is that the problem is repeating. Similar incidents have already occurred in the region and in other seas. What remains is a coastline being cleaned piece by piece, while new questions arise for which there are still no clear answers.
“I’m thinking about it” – Harris opens the door for a comeback
In New York reicht ein Satz, um einen ganzen Saal hochzureißen. Als Kamala Harris das Wort „election“ fallen lässt, springen Tausende auf, rufen „Run again“. Sie lächelt, bremst die Menge kurz – und sagt dann genau das, worauf alle warten. Sie denke darüber nach. Es ist kein Zufall, sondern der bislang deutlichste Hinweis darauf, dass sie 2028 erneut antreten könnte, nachdem nach der Niederlage gegen Trump im Jahr 2024 lange offen war, ob sie politisch überhaupt noch einmal zurückkehren will, und nun steht sie plötzlich wieder im Zentrum der Debatte.
The location is deliberate. A conference shaped by Black voters, organized by Al Sharpton. It is precisely here that it becomes clear that Harris still has support. The hall is full, denser than with other potential candidates. Even well-known names seem almost quiet by comparison. At the same time, skepticism remains. Nationwide, the numbers are mixed, many view her critically, others still see her as a serious option. Within the Democratic Party, the field is open, no one clearly dominates.
Harris herself leans on experience. She speaks about her time in the West Wing, about hours in the Oval Office, about decisions she witnessed up close. It comes across as a reminder that she knows the office, not just in theory. Politically, she attacks Trump, criticizes the war with Iran, speaks about inflation and the handling of allies. Issues meant to show that she not only wants to return, but also has a line. In the end, one sentence remains. Not a clear yes, not a no. But enough to restart a debate that was never finished.
Silla – power, bloodlines, and a system with no way out
What archaeologists are uncovering in southeastern Korea is more than history. It is a look into a system that controlled to the core who was allowed to live with whom and who was meant to die with whom. In a burial site at Imdang-Joheon, the remains of dozens of people have been examined, whose genomes now draw a clear picture. In the kingdom of Silla, which existed until the year 668, marriages between relatives were not an exception but part of an order that secured social boundaries. People stayed within their class, including in partner choice. Those who belonged stayed. Those outside had no access.
Even more drastic is this structure in a ritual known as Sunchang. Relatives, servants, or followers were killed after the death of a family head and buried together with him. Not as an exception, but as a practice repeated over generations.
The genetic data confirms what had long been suspected. In several cases, the dead come from close family relationships, in some instances across multiple generations. Even among those buried together, family lines can be identified, indicating that status was not only determined in life but continued in death. The site itself includes hundreds of graves from the fourth to sixth century. Thousands of artifacts have been recovered, hundreds of human remains documented. Step by step, a picture emerges of a society in which belonging determined everything.
What remains is the realization of how consistently this system was enforced. Not through open violence alone, but through rules that left no room for deviation.
