Assad's sentencing
The former strongman of Syria, Bashar al-Assad, stands condemned as he was sentenced to death in absentia. The Alawite dynasty scion who ruled Syria for 24 years and fled in a jiff as Damascus fell to rebel forces in 2024 has reportedly sought asylum in Moscow. He was charged with war crimes and crimes against humanity for his repression during the civil war. The court also convicted Assad of premeditated murder in Deraa in 2011, the theater of the uprising in the wake of the Arab Spring.
With Damascus now under a transitional government led by Ahmed al-Sharaa, this piece of judicial expedition was apparently meant to further the accountability of the fallen dictator. The point is that such an exercise, with little impact on the political horizon of the country, can merely be read as a resolve from a successive regime against its predecessor. The intent, however, remains questionable as it is devoid of the veracity of law, given that the accused could not be provided his right to a defence.
Assad is now in the league of ousted figures whose fate was determined by the law of the land after their contested departure. Some of the high-profile names in recent history are Sheikh Hasina of Bangladesh, President François Bozizé of the former Central African Republic, Zine El Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia, former Kyrgyz President Kurmanbek Bakiyev, Congolese President Pascal Lissouba, etc.
It remains to be seen how the fractured and lawless society of Syria will react to this ex-parte dictum. The fact is that no tears were shed for Assad, and there was hardly any pushback from the power-entrenched Alawites and the army. President Sharaa, who seized power in Syria on the pledge of evolving a nationalist decorum, must look beyond Assad and work for regional serenity. The sentence, nonetheless, is a powerful political act and will surely have ramifications. It also comes with the underlining that despots have a timeline to stay put in power, as sooner or later, history sits in judgment.
Redirected funds
There is something deeply troubling about a development programme designed to help some of Balochistan's poorest flood victims becoming the subject of a dispute over whether its funds should be diverted elsewhere. The World Bank's strong objection to the redirection of housing funds should not be dismissed as donor interference. Nor, however, should the government's broader development priorities be ignored. The real question is whether the two can be reconciled without making the province's most vulnerable people pay the price.
The numbers explain why this matters. According to the World Bank, 119,049 verified and eligible households have been left without identified financing after the housing component was capped. These are overwhelmingly poor families as around 84% of eligible beneficiaries are classified as ultra-poor and vulnerable, while many depend on daily wages. That is precisely why the government needs to explain the decision to redirect funds. The World Bank is also right to flag the potential consequences of exclusion. The purpose of resilient reconstruction is not simply to replace a damaged roof with another structure. It is to prevent vulnerable families from being pushed back into the same cycle of deprivation every time a flood, storm, heatwave or any other disaster strikes. However, development in Balochistan cannot be reduced to the construction of physical infrastructure while the people for whom that infrastructure is ostensibly being built remain unable to secure basic shelter. A road can connect a community to a market but it cannot compensate a family living in a damaged house.
The government's response to allegations of fraud and corruption must likewise be firm but targeted. If there are fraudulent claims, they should be identified and prosecuted. Islamabad should sit down with the World Bank and revisit the allocation rather than allow an avoidable disagreement to undermine an already fragile reconstruction effort.
Poison on our plates
A disconcerting amount of packaged kitchen staples fail to meet national quality standards. About 48% of all ghee samples analysed by the Ministry of Planning were found to be substandard, along with 75% of refined palm oil, and 44% of packaged milk. Out of 491 samples of different kitchen staples collected from markets across the country, 176 were found non-compliant - an overall failure rate of about 36%.
Despite having decent quality standards in place for decades, the government's enforcement capabilities have always left much to be desired. Poor quality food has been linked with the rising incidence of cardiovascular diseases and other non-communicable illnesses, particularly among younger Pakistanis, but the new data shows that the threat may be even larger than previously estimated. For one, the tests only covered "packaged" products - which conventional wisdom says are supposed to be safer, as long as proper safety measures were taken while packing them. Products such as loose milk, unpackaged pulses and meats are notorious for failing hygiene standards and adulteration.
The one bright spot is that most of the failing brands were unknowns, as better-known local and multinational brands seem to have exceeded the minimum standards. This is also proof that the technology and equipment needed to maintain standards are available on the market, and many established companies do go the extra mile to ensure that their reputations are not harmed.
More action needs to be taken against the smaller companies that exploit the system to put profit over safety and comfort. Food safety is not a luxury; it is a basic human right. When 48% of ghee may contribute to heart disease, when more than a third of cooking oil and packaged milk are mis-sold to consumers, this ceases to be merely a consumer protection issue - it becomes a public health emergency. The minister's nationwide survey is the right step, but surveys alone are not enough. What is needed are penalties severe enough to deter offenders, a thorough overhaul of regulatory institutions, and a price for adulteration that no seller is willing to pay.