What began as a quiet evening in Bislett, a student district in central Oslo, turned into a scene of chaos when two 13-year-old boys hurled hand grenades at a nail salon — an act now traced to the notorious Foxtrot crime network, a Swedish gang expanding its operations into Norway.

The explosions shattered windows, sprayed shrapnel across nearby buildings, and triggered a citywide bomb alert.

The boys vanished into the night, completing what investigators say was their first mission for Foxtrot, one of Europe’s most violent criminal organizations.

Authorities describe Foxtrot as a sprawling syndicate linked to dozens of bombings and contract killings across Scandinavia, its foot soldiers competing for dominance in the region’s billion-dollar drug trade.

Led by Rawa “Kurdish Fox” Majid, who operates from Iran under apparent protection from Tehran, the group has become nearly impossible to dismantle.

Children as Weapons

The Oslo attack exposed a grim loophole in Scandinavian law: children under 15 cannot be prosecuted for serious crimes, including murder.

This legal shield has made minors an attractive tool for Foxtrot’s operations. According to police sources, the two boys were recruited on social media by a “handler” seeking under-age operatives.

They later met a man in his 30s in a secluded car park, where they were handed Bosnian army-issue grenades smuggled into Norway.

Both were eventually arrested. One was placed in juvenile care; the other was released — outcomes that highlight, investigators say, the legal system’s inability to respond to crimes committed by minors on behalf of adult syndicates.

A Wave of Child-Led Attacks

The Bislett bombing was only the beginning. Within weeks, two more Foxtrot-linked attacks followed: a grenade assault on a sushi restaurant in Strømmen, outside Oslo, and a shooting in Sarpsborg involving three boys aged 12 to 14.

Norwegian authorities now fear that Foxtrot — already responsible for most of Sweden’s gang-related violence — is attempting to import its model of child assassins across the border.

“Anyone under 15 cannot stand trial,” said Kripos chief Kristin Ottesen Kvigne, Norway’s top criminal investigator. “As they cannot be penalized, these Swedish criminals are deliberately using children to commit violent crimes.”

Integration and Exploitation

Lawmakers and police acknowledge that many of the recruited children come from migrant backgrounds, often marginalized and poorly integrated into Norwegian society.

That alienation has made them vulnerable to recruitment.

“The government has become blind to the situation,” said Mahmoud Farahmand, a Conservative MP and former intelligence officer whose family fled Iran.

“We have failed to protect children from being exploited — and now grenades are being thrown in the streets of Oslo.”

Community groups such as The Night Ravens, long known for patrolling nightlife districts, are shifting their focus toward preventing gang recruitment among migrant youth.

“We’ve failed at integration,” said the group’s secretary-general, Lars Norbom. “Now we have to prevent these kids from becoming killers.”

Cocaine, Cash, and Chaos

While Foxtrot made its fortune from heroin in Sweden, the gang has turned to cocaine trafficking in Norway, exploiting weak customs controls and under-staffed border forces. Officials recently intercepted 800 kilograms of cocaine — Norway’s largest ever seizure — hidden in banana crates.

“It’s now easier for a 17-year-old to get cocaine than alcohol,” warned Karin Tanderø Schaug, head of the Norwegian Customs Union.

The Justice Ministry has promised tighter coordination between agencies. “Crime must be combated, including acts committed on demand,” said Justice Minister Astri Aas-Hansen, calling the grenade attacks “extremely serious.” But critics say the government’s response has been slow and timid.

For many Norwegians, the violence represents a chilling break with their country’s image as a safe, cohesive society. “As a soldier, I saw grenades thrown in war zones,” Farahmand said. “I never thought I’d see it on my own street.”

Europe’s Critical Minerals Dilemma: Breaking Free from China’s Grip Without Going Broke. 

The European Union is racing to loosen Beijing’s stranglehold over the minerals that power its industries — but ambition alone won’t dig new mines. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s latest push, dubbed “RESourceEU,” promises to diversify supplies of lithium, copper, and rare earths by year’s end.

Yet without the funding muscle to match its geopolitical urgency, the plan risks becoming little more than a rebranded replay of the 2023 Critical Raw Materials Act.

The timing is no coincidence. China’s latest export controls on rare earths — a near-total chokehold on elements Europe depends on — have exposed how vulnerable the continent remains.

Beijing supplies 99 percent of the EU’s rare earths and 98 percent of its permanent magnets, indispensable for everything from wind turbines to fighter jets. Facing that dependency, von der Leyen warned, “Europe cannot do things the same way anymore.”

The Commission says the new plan will explore joint purchasing, stockpiling, and partnerships modeled after the REPowerEU framework that mobilized €225 billion after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Industry lobbyists, however, remain skeptical.

“It’s all still in its infancy,” said Florian Anderhuber of Euromines, who warned that without new money, the initiative is just a “label for things already in the pipeline.”

Money is indeed the missing mineral. The EU’s earlier targets — extracting 10 percent of its own mineral consumption and sourcing no more than 65 percent of any key raw material from a single country by 2030 — have barely moved.

Mining and processing projects face 10–15-year lead times, and banks have shown little appetite to invest without guarantees.

The European Initiative for Energy Security argues that the next EU budget must establish a European Raw Materials Fund to finance strategic projects and de-risk private investment.

But even money won’t solve the politics. From Portugal to Finland, environmental opposition has already derailed several mining ventures.

Critics like Diego Marin of the European Environmental Bureau warn that Brussels risks “choosing geopolitical expediency over ecological integrity,” trading green ideals for resource nationalism.

Meanwhile, allies are moving faster. In Toronto, the G7’s new Critical Minerals Production Alliance, led by Canada, aims to create “transparent and democratic” supply chains — effectively forming a Western club of responsible producers with price floors and tariff shields against cheaper, dirtier imports.

For Europe, the real test isn’t drafting another action plan — it’s deciding whether strategic autonomy is worth the political and financial cost.

Breaking free from China’s mineral dominance will require billions, not bureaucratic pledges. As one analyst put it, “The EU can afford to talk sovereignty — but can it afford to mine it?”

The current surge in diplomatic friction initiated by the government of Somalia against the Republic of Somaliland is more than an internal territorial dispute; it is a critical geopolitical strategy designed to disrupt Somaliland’s hard-won diplomatic sovereignty.

With actions ranging from targeting the Taiwan embassy in Hargeisa to imposing a new e-visa policy that restricts access for key officials, Mogadishu is employing sophisticated tools to roll back Hargeisa’s autonomy.

This escalating tension, which also sees Somalia aggressively pursuing control over Somaliland’s airspace, is a direct and hostile response to Hargeisa’s success in cultivating partnerships with the U.S., the U.K., and other non-traditional allies like Taiwan.

This flashpoint is now a crucial proxy contest in the larger battle for influence in the Horn of Africa.

The Strategic Pressure Point: The China Angle

The most revealing aspect of this coordinated attack is the explicit targeting of the Taiwan mission. This move clearly positions the aggression as a reflection of larger global power dynamics, establishing China as the silent beneficiary of Mogadishu’s actions.

Somaliland’s decision to forge ties with Taiwan, a democratic partner, constitutes a direct challenge to Beijing’s fundamental “One China” principle.

By attempting to restrict diplomatic access and threaten the mission, Somalia acts as a geopolitical proxy, signaling to smaller states that choosing Taipei comes with tangible diplomatic and economic costs.

For Somaliland, however, enduring this pressure confirms the immense strategic value of the Taiwan relationship, solidifying Hargeisa’s position as a front-line player challenging entrenched global norms.

Why Now? The Recognition Red Line and Western Entrenchment

Somalia’s aggressive timing is a reactive and preemptive strike motivated by two core factors. Firstly, the Ethiopia MOU—the port access deal—placed the prospect of recognition squarely on the global agenda.

Somalia’s maneuvers are an attempt to raise the political cost for any third party considering recognition, demonstrating that Mogadishu retains enough sovereign interest (through visa policies) and legal claim (over airspace) to make such a decision diplomatically disruptive.

Secondly, the increased frequency of high-level visits and trade commitments from Western nations like the U.S. and the U.K. signals a growing international acceptance of Somaliland’s de facto sovereignty.

Somalia perceives this as a final window to assert formal authority before Hargeisa’s autonomous status becomes too entrenched to reverse. The underlying goal is to introduce sufficient transactional risk to deter vital foreign investment and isolate Somaliland diplomatically.

The Weaponization of Airspace: A National Security Crisis

The dispute over the Flight Information Region (FIR), which governs Somaliland’s airspace, represents the most tangible threat to the nation’s security and sovereignty.

Control of this infrastructure is not a mere bureaucratic matter; it is essential to national security, border integrity, and global aviation safety compliance.

Somalia’s centralized claims introduce legal ambiguity and technical safety risks, potentially impacting the reliability required by international airlines and trade logistics.

Yet, this crisis presents a distinct opportunity: by highlighting this technical vulnerability, the Somaliland government can appeal to nations with advanced aviation expertise to help establish an independent, ICAO-compliant air traffic management system.

The Path Forward

In this moment of explicit diplomatic warfare, Somaliland should not hesitate to leverage its strategic partnerships to seek help. The defense of its sovereignty requires coordinated, practical, and often technical assistance.

Both the UAE and Israel are positioned to provide this. Given the UAE’s significant regional economic footprint and Israel’s world-class defense and security technology, they are capable of delivering the necessary technical infrastructure, radar systems, and training to allow Somaliland to manage its own FIR safely and independently.

This operational assistance can bypass complex, time-consuming political debates at the UN level. Furthermore, the U.S. and U.K. must utilize their political leverage within international organizations like the ICAO to ensure Somalia cannot weaponize air traffic control for political gain.

Finally, Taiwan faces a critical test, given the diplomatic pressure Hargeisa is currently absorbing on its behalf.

Taipei should respond with visible, strategic assistance—perhaps a major, high-impact development project—to demonstrate the undeniable value of the partnership.

Somaliland’s emergence from this pressure cooker will depend on its ability to shift from merely defending its borders to actively building the technical and security architecture of an independent state.

This requires a robust, public request for technical aid to secure its airspace, strategically converting diplomatic friendships into permanent, physical assets that solidify its operational and political reality.

Hamas’s military collapse opened a rare path for Gaza’s future — one that runs through its clans, not its militias. Ignoring this reality could hand the Strip back to the very group that destroyed it.

After years under Hamas’s iron grip, Gaza’s future may rest not with imported technocrats or broken institutions, but with its traditional clan networks — the only structures still capable of governing and preventing Hamas’s resurgence.

The October 2023 Hamas attack shattered Israel’s security assumptions — but it also exposed a deeper truth: Hamas never truly ruled Gaza; it merely suppressed the tribes that always have.

With 72 percent of Gaza’s 2.3 million residents tied to clan networks, and 608 registered mukhtars commanding local legitimacy, the future of Gaza’s stability depends not on rebuilding Hamas-lite governance, but on empowering these traditional authorities to fill the vacuum it left behind.

President Trump’s recent approval of Hamas’s “temporary” security operations was a grave miscalculation. Granting even provisional authority to the same organization that created Gaza’s chaos risks re-legitimizing it.

Every street patrol and checkpoint manned by Hamas restores its moral authority — something that two years of war sought to erase. The U.S. insists this is about law and order. In reality, it’s a slow-motion reinstatement of Hamas rule.

Yet Gaza already has an alternative. Clan-based security groups like Yasser Abu Shabab’s Popular Forces and Hossam al-Astal’s Counter-Terrorism Strike Force have proven their ability to maintain order and protect humanitarian operations.

In March 2025, these units safeguarded World Food Programme convoys in Gaza City after months of looting — something Hamas’s police never managed without coercion or corruption. The clans act from pragmatism, not ideology.

Their loyalty is earned through livelihoods, not dogma. Economically, Gaza’s clan networks control agriculture, trade, and construction — the pillars of recovery.

Their transborder reach across Egypt, Jordan, and Israel gives them something Hamas never did: the ability to connect Gaza to regional markets instead of tunnels and contraband.

When reconstruction funds start to flow, it is the clans, not the militants, who can ensure those dollars build homes instead of rockets. Skeptics warn of warlordism. But Gaza’s clans already managed complex governance once before.

Between 2007 and 2011, Hamas’s own administration integrated more than 600 mukhtars into dispute-resolution councils that handled tens of thousands of cases — proof that these systems can function within modern frameworks.

With international oversight and economic integration, clan rivalries can be turned into shared interests.

The alternative is clear and catastrophic: letting Hamas reconstitute itself under the guise of “security stabilization.” If the world insists on rebuilding Gaza through the very movement that destroyed it, it will only guarantee another October 7.

Clan governance may not look like Western democracy — but in Gaza, it’s the only structure left standing that people actually trust.

In London, Volodymyr Zelenskyy coupled pageantry (Windsor) with power politics (Downing Street), pressing a “coalition of the willing” for more air defenses and a legal pathway to tap frozen Russian assets.

The political logic is clear: Ukraine’s winter resilience hinges on interceptors, power-grid hardening, and predictable funding.

The legal logic is harder. Belgium’s Bart De Wever—pivotal because Euroclear holds much of the assets—warned that outright confiscation is “uncharted territory,” foreshadowing years of litigation and uneven risk-sharing inside the EU.

Expect a compromise model that channels profits/interest from frozen assets rather than seizing principal, paired with indemnity schemes to keep Brussels unified.

Washington’s designations of Rosneft and Lukoil plus the EU’s 19th package (including an LNG import ban) target the Kremlin’s cashflow, not symbolism.

Effectiveness now rests on enforcement: secondary sanctions on shippers, insurers, and banks; tracking Russia’s “shadow fleet”; and tightening price-cap evasion via swaps and reflags.

Viktor Orbán’s stated intent to “circumvent” U.S. measures is a stress test for transatlantic coherence. Moscow will probe for gaps, hedge with Asia, and weaponize counters in energy, cyber, and maritime lanes—accepting near-term losses to preserve wartime revenue.

Zelenskyy’s ask for 25 Patriot-class batteries is about geometry: layered coverage for cities, grid nodes, and industry as Russia resumes mass drone/missile salvos.

Interceptor stockpiles, reload tempo, and radar integration will determine whether Ukraine can outlast winter barrages.

Without additional batteries—or at minimum large interceptor tranches—Ukraine faces rolling blackouts that sap industrial output and strain mobilization.

Russia claims village-level gains around Bolohivka (Kharkiv), Promin (Donetsk), Zlagoda (Dnipropetrovsk)—incremental steps consistent with an attritional approach.

Kyiv’s offset is deep economic interdiction: drones and precision strikes against refineries and defense-linked sites (e.g., Bryansk) that export price shocks to the near abroad (Tajik fuel spikes) and force Russia into costlier logistics.

The Ovruch rail-station blast underscores persistent homeland-security risks along Belarus-adjacent corridors; expect tighter rail policing, more counter-sabotage sweeps, and civil-defense drills.

What to watch next.

• A London-led delivery plan for air defense (Patriot/IRIS-T/NASAMS interceptors, CUAS suites) and grid protection.

• A G7/EU profits-only asset mechanism with legal backstops—and whether Belgium signs on.

• Real secondary sanctions on oil/LNG facilitators—and Brussels’ response to Hungarian noncompliance.

• Russian retaliation vectors (shipping, cyber against finance/energy), and whether Ukrainian deep-reach strikes sustain refinery downtime.

Bottom line: Kyiv’s strategy marries lawfare + enforcement with air-defense density + economic interdiction. If allies lock in an assets framework and choke sanctions leakage, Ukraine’s winter position strengthens; if legal fissures and enforcement gaps widen, the pressure dulls while the front grinds on.

Gen Z Protesters Topple Madagascar’s President — And Shake the Foundations of Africa’s Old Guards.

In a dramatic replay of history, Madagascar’s President Andry Rajoelina — once a revolutionary DJ who rode youth protests to power — has now been toppled by the very generation he once inspired. This week, the military seized control as Gen Z–led demonstrations overwhelmed the capital, forcing Rajoelina to flee the country for a second time in his political career.

The irony is piercing. Rajoelina, 51, came to power in 2009 through a youth uprising that ousted then-President Marc Ravalomanana. Sixteen years later, a new generation — born with smartphones and raised on disillusionment — sent him packing.

But this uprising isn’t just about Madagascar. Analysts say it could ignite a new wave of political reckoning across Africa, where disenchanted young citizens are increasingly unafraid to challenge entrenched regimes.

The Rise of the “Plugged-In Revolution”

Across the Global South — from Nepal to Bangladesh to Sri Lanka — youth-driven movements have shown that digital-age activism can dismantle old systems faster than any coup.

The same formula has now shaken the Indian Ocean island.

In Madagascar, protesters coordinated through TikTok, Telegram, and X (formerly Twitter), livestreaming their defiance while the military watched from the sidelines — until it switched sides.

“It’s a half victory,” said protest leader Elliot Randriamandrato. “The real struggle begins now.”

That “struggle,” as he put it, is over who truly holds power: the youth or the generals.

Africa’s Rulers Feel the Aftershocks

The symbolism hasn’t gone unnoticed in other capitals. “Underperforming African leaders should be very wary,” warned Kingsley Moghalu, a former Nigerian presidential candidate and policy expert.

From Kenya to Uganda, Nigeria to Mozambique, youth frustration simmers under the surface — fueled by joblessness, corruption, and governments that seem deaf to demands for reform.

In Kenya, the Gen Z tax revolt against President William Ruto’s finance bill nearly paralyzed the country in July. In Morocco, young protesters under the banner GenZ 212 are taking on police repression and misplaced state priorities.

And in Uganda, President Yoweri Museveni — at 81 — calls his youthful challengers “fire players” while jailing dozens for protesting corruption.

Observers say Madagascar’s uprising could reignite dormant protest movements across the continent.

“The perceived success of the youth in Madagascar may serve as a reference point,” said Swikani Ncube of the University of Johannesburg. “It tells others that persistence can pay off.”

The Fragile Old Order

Most African governments, especially military-led ones, are unlikely to cede power easily. Even elected leaders have learned survival through repression and fatigue. But experts warn they’re running out of time.

For now, Africa’s leaders are watching Madagascar nervously. Because if TikTok-fueled movements can dethrone presidents on an island of 30 million, what stops it from happening in Nairobi, Lagos, or Kampala next?

The continent’s youth have issued their warning. The clock on Africa’s old order is ticking — and this time, the revolution will be streamed live.

Russia Shoots Down Its Own Fighter Jet as Putin Pushes for Trump Summit Amid Ukraine Escalation.

In a scene that underscores the chaos inside Vladimir Putin’s war machine, Ukraine’s military claims that Russian air defenses accidentally shot down one of their own fighter jets over Crimea.

According to a statement by the Ukrainian Navy, a Russian Su-30SM fighter jet was destroyed by friendly fire as Moscow’s forces scrambled to intercept a wave of Ukrainian drones over the occupied peninsula.

The crew reportedly ejected safely after both engines ignited midair.

“Through reconnaissance means of the Ukrainian Navy, a radio interception was obtained regarding the ignition of two engines and the ejection of the crew of the Russian invaders’ Su-30SM aircraft,” Kyiv’s military said, adding that the jet was conducting operations in northwestern Crimea when it was struck.

Moscow’s Fog of War

The incident comes amid Russia’s renewed aerial assault on Ukraine’s energy grid, with missile barrages pounding infrastructure across the country ahead of winter.

Ukrainian officials said Moscow’s air force has become increasingly reckless, operating under confused orders and outdated coordination systems.

Analysts say friendly-fire incidents are rising as Russian troops rely on overlapping, poorly integrated air defense networks stretched thin across occupied territories. “The Russians are shooting at everything that moves — including themselves,”

Politics in the Air

The embarrassment over Crimea broke just as the Kremlin announced preparations for a new Putin–Trump summit, expected to take place in Budapest within weeks. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov confirmed that Russian and U.S. officials are already in talks to coordinate pre-summit logistics.

The meeting, if confirmed, would mark the second direct negotiation between Putin and Trump since their Alaska summit in August — a meeting that ended without agreement on Ukraine.

Sources in Moscow said this round could focus on a potential “roadmap for de-escalation,” though few expect meaningful progress.

The announcement comes as Washington considers sending Tomahawk cruise missiles to Kyiv, a move that could dramatically shift battlefield dynamics and risk direct confrontation.

War of Attrition

Despite Moscow’s diplomatic overtures, Putin shows no signs of slowing his war. Russian forces continue to claw at Ukrainian positions in the east, suffering devastating casualties. Western intelligence estimates put Russian losses since 2022 at over 350,000 dead or wounded, while Ukraine has also endured heavy military and civilian tolls.

London announced this week that Britain will send tens of thousands of drones to Ukraine, bolstering Kyiv’s long-range strike capacity.

Meanwhile, Putin’s allies are working overtime to frame the upcoming Budapest summit as a peace effort.

But the friendly-fire fiasco over Crimea tells a different story — one of a military fighting blind, a leadership chasing diplomacy on its own terms, and a war spinning further out of control.