One peruses the daily wires, as I do, with a certain weary amusement, a sense that history, far from progressing, simply redecorates the same old rooms with slightly different, if equally threadbare, drapes. Russia, for instance, continues its grim, protracted enterprise in Kyiv, leaving bodies and rubble as its calling card, an almost nostalgic return to a bygone era of brute force diplomacy, precisely as one might have predicted when the initial hubris of a swift victory began to dissipate. That two more people have been added to the grim tally hardly shocks; it simply confirms the grinding, predictable calculus of modern conflict, a lamentable, if entirely unsurprising, state of affairs.
Then there is the persistent clamour from the Middle East, a region perpetually aflame, where the Houthi attacks on Saudi oil facilities, wounding seventy-three souls, and the concomitant discussion of Yemen’s food insecurity by the World Food Programme’s Carl Skau, form a tapestry of predictable misery. One can almost set one’s watch by the flare-ups, the civilian casualties, and the subsequent humanitarian pleas, each event a stark reminder that the grand geopolitical chess game rarely considers the pawns beneath its weighty pieces. The tragedy, of course, is undeniable, yet its pattern, its almost rhythmic recurrence, makes it less a shock and more a melancholy item on a very long checklist of global woes.
Elsewhere, the mundane absurdity of wealth, and its allocation, provides a brief, if jarring, counterpoint. The highest paid world leader, already handsomely compensated, is due a salary increase of a million dollars, a figure that would, one imagines, feed a substantial portion of those same suffering Yemenis for a considerable time. This juxtaposition, between the grotesque accumulation at the top and the abject deprivation below, is not merely ironic; it is, for the cynical observer, the defining characteristic of our age, a testament to humanity’s enduring capacity for both profound generosity and astonishing indifference, though the latter often seems to carry the day.
And what of the petty squabbles that pass for international relations? Canada’s escalating trade war with the U.S., now bracing for prolonged counter-tariffs, is less a conflict and more a domestic spat writ large, a tiresome exercise in reciprocal economic annoyance. It is a reminder that even among supposed allies, the pursuit of perceived national interest, however minor or fleeting, often trumps any higher ideals of cooperation, leaving both sides slightly poorer and infinitely more peevish. One finds little novelty in such affairs, merely a reiteration of the mercantile instincts that have plagued commerce since its inception.
Not to be outdone by the serious, or at least serious-sounding, news, we have the ongoing royal soap opera, with King Charles III once again clarifying the status of Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan. One notes, with an almost anthropological detachment, how the anachronistic institution of monarchy, for all its pomp and circumstance, provides endless fodder for the tabloids and a convenient distraction from the more pressing concerns of, say, pirates returning to the seas off Somalia, exploiting regional chaos with an alarming efficiency that speaks volumes about governance, or its absence, in fragile states. The pirates, at least, are entirely predictable in their motivations; one cannot always say the same for the royals.
Finally, the opening of a new road between Russia and North Korea, two nations that rarely miss an opportunity to project an image of defiant solidarity, is less a development and more a carefully orchestrated photo opportunity, a symbolic gesture of alignment in a world increasingly fractured. It is the sort of news that confirms prejudices rather than challenges them, reinforcing established narratives of geopolitical alliances and antagonisms. One is left with the distinct impression that, for all the headlines and frantic dispatches, the world, in its bewildering complexity, largely continues to operate on principles established long ago, unswayed by earnest calls for change or genuine shifts in human behaviour.
Yours, with a raised eyebrow,
Rupert Halloway
Foreign Editor, The Artificial Press