Coin Press - Israel riled by US-Iran pact

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Israel riled by US-Iran pact




The United States and Israel entered the spring of 2026 locked in an unprecedented conflict with Iran. On 28 February the two allies launched a joint offensive aimed at destroying Iran’s ballistic‑missile programme, curbing its support for militant proxies and forcing an end to its nuclear ambitions. The campaign quickly spread across the region: Iranian forces responded with ballistic‑missile salvos and drone attacks, and the United States imposed a naval blockade on Iranian ports. Iran retaliated by closing the Strait of Hormuz, a narrow waterway through which a fifth of the world’s oil flows. By early April both sides had agreed to a fragile ceasefire, but the war’s economic and human cost, coupled with mounting pressure from Gulf Arab states to restore trade, propelled Washington to seek a negotiated settlement.

President Donald Trump has now circulated a draft agreement that would reopen the Strait of Hormuz to commercial shipping, lift the U.S. blockade and unlock up to $12 billion of Iran’s frozen assets. Under the memorandum of understanding, shipping lanes would return to pre‑war levels within a month, and a 60‑day negotiating period would be devoted to the future of Iran’s nuclear programme. Discussions on highly enriched uranium, centrifuges and International Atomic Energy Agency supervision would begin only after trade resumed. Iran would renounce nuclear weapons, but its stockpiles and missile arsenal would not be dismantled at this stage. The deal also calls for a permanent ceasefire that would extend to Lebanon, where Israeli forces have been engaged in a separate conflict with Hezbollah. As a diplomatic sweetener, Washington has urged Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Pakistan and other regional powers to normalise relations with Israel by joining the Abraham Accords.

In Israel the proposal has provoked a storm of indignation. Senior officials, speaking on condition of anonymity, have branded the emerging accord a “bad deal”. Their chief complaint is that the draft postpones serious constraints on Iran’s nuclear and missile programmes, creating the risk that Tehran will pocket sanctions relief, rebuild its economy and rearm its proxies while negotiations drag on. Israeli strategists note that the memorandum says nothing about Iran’s long‑range missiles or its network of regional militias. They fear that a temporary ceasefire would allow Iran’s allies in Lebanon, Syria and Yemen to regroup and that the release of billions of dollars would enable Tehran to reconstitute military facilities damaged during the war.

Opposition leader Yair Lapid, who is attempting to unseat Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu later this year, has condemned the plan as “bad for Israel, bad for the region [and] bad for the citizens of Iran”. Lapid has criticised Mr Netanyahu for failing to influence Washington’s negotiating position and warns that Israel’s ability to shape American policy is at an all‑time low. Other Israeli commentators describe the draft as a strategic failure: the war began with publicly declared goals of toppling Iran’s theocratic government, ending its ballistic‑missile threat and severing its ties to militant groups, yet the proposed agreement delivers none of those outcomes. Analysts at the Institute for National Security Studies argue that the enormous gap between the war’s ambitions and the terms of the emerging deal shows how little the campaign’s architects understood Iran. Some call it a capitulation that leaves Iran in a stronger position than before the war.

Security officials are particularly alarmed by the prospect of constraints on Israeli military operations in Lebanon and Gaza. The draft calls for a permanent ceasefire not just in the Persian Gulf but across the region, including southern Lebanon where Israeli troops have seized strategic positions and where daily exchanges of fire with Hezbollah have continued despite the pause in the broader war. Israeli commanders insist on “freedom of action” to strike Iranian targets and proxies; they fear that a formal ceasefire would tie their hands and allow Hezbollah to entrench itself further along the northern border. The idea of including Hezbollah in the ceasefire, reportedly floated by Tehran, is anathema to the Israel Defense Forces.

The financial dimension of the proposed deal is another source of anger. Iran’s government is demanding access to billions of dollars held abroad to stabilise its economy after months of conflict. For Israel, the thought of unlocking those funds conjures memories of the 2015 nuclear agreement, which lifted sanctions and allowed Iran to re‑enter oil markets. Hawks in both Israel and the United States warn that injecting cash into Iran’s coffers will embolden the Revolutionary Guard Corps and enable renewed investment in missile development and proxy warfare. These critics argue that pressure—not relief—is the only way to force Tehran to dismantle its nuclear infrastructure and curb its regional ambitions. Some even say they would prefer a return to open conflict to the signing of a weak agreement that leaves Iran intact.

Israelis are also wary of the diplomatic gambit tied to the deal. President Trump has declared that it should be “mandatory” for countries such as Saudi Arabia, Qatar and Pakistan to recognise Israel as part of the agreement. Pro‑Israel voices in the United States have welcomed the idea, but regional experts point out that Gulf states are not prepared to normalise relations at a time when Israel is still waging wars in Lebanon and Gaza and when Palestinian casualties have fuelled widespread anger. Saudi Arabia has repeatedly said it will not normalise relations without a Palestinian state based on the 1967 borders. For Israel, therefore, the promise of new diplomatic ties offers little comfort; what matters is security, and the current draft does not guarantee it.

Beyond Israel, the emerging agreement has drawn criticism from Republican hawks in Washington. Senators Lindsey Graham, Ted Cruz and Roger Wicker have all warned that a 60‑day ceasefire that reopens the Strait of Hormuz while leaving Iran’s nuclear and missile capabilities untouched would be a “disaster”, a “nightmare” and a “disastrous mistake”. Former secretary of state Mike Pompeo has derided the proposal as a retreat from the “America First” stance, arguing that Tehran should not receive a penny until its capability to threaten U.S. allies is eliminated. These voices echo the concerns of Israeli officials who fear that the balance of power in the region will shift in Iran’s favour if the United States compromises.

The uproar in Jerusalem is compounded by a feeling of marginalisation. Reports in the Israeli press suggest that Mr Netanyahu has been largely sidelined in negotiations, with Washington seeking input from Gulf allies and Pakistan instead. A senior Israeli security official recently lamented that “Israeli interests were not taken into account throughout the negotiations”, noting that Israel might now face restrictions on its ability to act in Lebanon and Gaza despite fighting alongside the United States in Iran. Such perceived neglect has fuelled domestic criticism of Mr Netanyahu and heightened the sense of betrayal that underpins Israel’s fury at the emerging deal.

As negotiations continue, the gap between Israeli expectations and the draft agreement’s provisions remains wide. Israel entered the conflict hoping to eliminate a strategic rival and reshape the Middle East. It now confronts the prospect of a ceasefire that freezes the status quo, leaves Iran’s regime intact, and imposes constraints on Israel’s military freedom. Unless Washington and Tehran can produce a final agreement that addresses Israel’s security concerns—particularly the dismantling of Iran’s missile and nuclear capabilities and the curtailment of its proxies—the anger emanating from Jerusalem is unlikely to subside. The fate of the war, the security of the Gulf and the future of regional diplomacy all hinge on whether these divergent interests can be reconciled in the weeks ahead.



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Stargate project, Trump and the AI war...

In a dramatic return to the global political stage, former President Donald J. Trump, as the current 47th President of the United States of America, has unveiled his latest initiative, the so-called ‘Stargate Project,’ in a bid to cement the United States’ dominance in artificial intelligence and outpace China’s meteoric rise in the field. The newly announced programme, cloaked in patriotic rhetoric and ambitious targets, is already stirring intense debate over the future of technological competition between the world’s two largest economies.According to preliminary statements from Trump’s team, the Stargate Project will consolidate the efforts of leading American tech conglomerates, defence contractors, and research universities under a centralised framework. The former president, who has long championed American exceptionalism, claims this approach will provide the United States with a decisive advantage, enabling rapid breakthroughs in cutting-edge AI applications ranging from military strategy to commercial innovation.“America must remain the global leader in technology—no ifs, no buts,” Trump declared at a recent press conference. “China has been trying to surpass us in AI, but with this new project, we will make sure the future remains ours.”Details regarding funding and governance remain scarce, but early indications suggest the initiative will rely heavily on public-private partnerships, tax incentives for research and development, and collaboration with high-profile venture capital firms. Skeptics, however, warn that the endeavour could fan the flames of an increasingly militarised AI race, raising ethical concerns about surveillance, automation of warfare, and data privacy. Critics also question whether the initiative can deliver on its lofty promises, especially in the face of existing economic and geopolitical pressures.Yet for its supporters, the Stargate Project serves as a rallying cry for renewed American leadership and an antidote to worries over China’s technological ascendancy. Proponents argue that accelerating AI research is paramount if the United States wishes to preserve not just military supremacy, but also the economic and cultural influence that has typified its global role for decades.Whether this bold project will succeed—or if it will devolve into a symbolic gesture—remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the Stargate Project has already reignited debate about how best to safeguard America’s strategic future and maintain the balance of power in the fast-evolving arena of artificial intelligence.

Latin America’s age trap

Latin America has spent generations thinking of demography as a problem of abundance. Governments built schools for swelling classes, cities spread to absorb millions of new residents, and economists worried about whether jobs, housing and food production could keep pace with a rapidly expanding population. That assumption now belongs to the past. The region is entering an era in which there will be fewer children, a slower-growing workforce and many more older people, and the transition is unfolding far faster than most political systems are prepared to admit.The shift is already measurable. Fertility in Latin America has fallen to about 1.8 children per woman and has remained below the replacement level of 2.1 since 2015. The Caribbean is lower still, at roughly 1.5. In 2024, Latin America and the Caribbean had about 663 million inhabitants, nearly 26 million fewer than projections made at the beginning of the century had anticipated. The population is now expected to peak at about 730 million in 2053 before beginning a long decline.A peak in the middle of the century does not sound like an immediate emergency. That is precisely why the risk is easy to underestimate. Demographic crises rarely arrive as a single shock. They emerge through thousands of local changes: maternity wards with fewer patients, primary schools with empty desks, small towns losing young adults, companies unable to recruit skilled staff, pension systems collecting too little and families trying to care for elderly relatives with fewer hands available.Latin America does not yet have the lowest fertility in the world, and it is not yet the oldest region. Parts of East Asia have much lower birth rates, while Europe already has a substantially larger elderly population. The reason Latin America’s predicament could prove harsher is the sequence in which the change is occurring. The region is ageing before it has become broadly prosperous, before much of its workforce has entered formal employment and before durable welfare states have been built. Europe grew old after decades of industrialisation, capital accumulation and the expansion of tax-funded social protection. Several East Asian economies face extreme demographic contraction, but many entered it with high savings, advanced infrastructure, strong education systems and highly productive firms. Latin America is approaching the same pressure with weak productivity growth, deeply unequal access to public services, fragile fiscal positions and labour markets in which informality remains normal rather than exceptional.The speed of the transformation leaves little room for complacency. In 1950, about 41 per cent of the region’s population was under the age of 15. By 2024, that share had fallen to 22.5 per cent. In the same year, roughly 65 million people were aged 65 or older, representing 9.9 per cent of the population. By 2050, that group is projected to reach about 138 million and almost 19 per cent of the total. The median age, just 18 in 1950, reached 31 in 2024 and is expected to approach 40 by mid-century.This is not simply a story about people refusing to have children. Much of the fertility decline reflects social progress. Infant mortality has fallen, contraception has become more accessible, women have gained education and economic independence, and adolescent pregnancy has declined sharply. Families no longer need many births to ensure that several children survive to adulthood. Women are also more able to decide whether and when motherhood fits their lives.The trouble is that institutions have not adapted to the freedom and expectations of modern adulthood. In many cities, secure housing is expensive, formal jobs are scarce, commuting is exhausting and childcare is limited. Parenthood can carry a severe career penalty, especially for women, while domestic and caring responsibilities remain distributed unequally. Young adults often spend years moving between temporary work, informal employment and dependence on relatives before they feel able to form a household.Low fertility therefore reflects both choice and constraint. Some people do not want children. Others want fewer than previous generations. Many would like to become parents but postpone the decision because the economic and practical conditions never appear sufficiently stable. The postponement of first births explains part of the fall, but not all of it. Completed family size is also declining, meaning that later births are not fully compensating for those deferred in early adulthood.Chile offers one of the clearest warnings. Its fertility rate fell to about 1.03 children per woman in 2024, below Japan’s level and dramatically lower than it had been only a decade earlier. Uruguay now records far fewer births than deaths. Cuba is losing population through the combined effects of low fertility, ageing and large-scale emigration. Brazil and Mexico still have enormous populations, but their national size conceals shrinking school cohorts and ageing communities across many states and municipalities. Central America remains younger on average, yet fertility there is falling rapidly as well.The economic consequences will not be determined by headcounts alone. A smaller workforce can support a larger retired population if each worker becomes more productive, if more women enter well-paid employment, if healthy older people remain active and if technology raises output. Demographic decline is not an automatic sentence to recession. It becomes dangerous when productivity stagnates and institutions fail to mobilise the people who are already present.Latin America enters this test with a serious structural weakness. Nearly 47 per cent of employed people were working informally in the first half of 2025. Among young workers, the share was about 56 per cent. Informal work often means low and unstable earnings, limited training, weak legal protection and irregular or nonexistent pension contributions. It also narrows the tax base from which governments must finance health care, pensions and long-term support. For decades, a relatively large working-age population offered the region a demographic dividend. There were more potential workers in relation to children and older dependants, creating an opportunity for faster growth and higher savings. Yet a dividend is only an opportunity, not a guarantee. Much of it was consumed during years of modest investment, unequal education and poor productivity. The favourable age structure is now beginning to close before the region has completed the economic transformation it was supposed to finance.The labour force will continue to grow for some time at regional level, but more slowly and with an older profile. Young cohorts entering employment will become smaller. Employers will face recruitment problems in areas that require technical skills, health professionals, teachers and care workers. Rural districts and smaller cities may lose working-age residents even while major metropolitan areas remain crowded. National averages will therefore hide acute local decline.Ageing will also expose the weaknesses of pension systems designed around continuous formal employment. The basic arithmetic is unforgiving. More people will draw benefits for longer periods, while growth in the number of contributors will slow. Yet raising contribution rates, reducing benefits or delaying retirement is politically difficult in societies where many people already receive inadequate support and where physically demanding work makes longer careers unrealistic.Pension coverage has expanded, including through non-contributory schemes, but adequacy remains a major problem. Around 43 per cent of older people receive pension income that is insufficient to meet minimum consumption needs. Roughly a quarter of people aged 65 and over were still participating in the labour market in 2024. For some, work in later life is a welcome source of purpose and income. For many others, it is not active ageing but economic necessity.Health systems face a related challenge. Longer lives are a major achievement, but longevity does not automatically mean more years in good health. Diabetes, cardiovascular disease, cancer, dementia and disability will demand sustained treatment, rehabilitation and assistance with daily life. Systems that remain divided between public programmes, employment-based insurance and private provision often deliver fragmented care precisely when older patients need continuity.The most immediate strain may appear not in hospitals or treasury accounts but inside homes. Long-term care remains limited or absent in much of the region, so families provide most assistance to elderly and disabled relatives. Women perform a disproportionate share of this work, often reducing paid hours or leaving employment altogether. That response becomes less viable as families become smaller, adult children migrate and more women participate in the labour market.The region’s need for professional long-term care workers could nearly triple by 2050. Without planning, the result will be a severe shortage of trained staff, a larger burden on unpaid carers and widening inequality between households that can purchase private support and those that cannot. A demographic model built on the assumption that daughters and daughters-in-law will provide unlimited free care is already breaking down.Migration complicates the picture. Latin America is simultaneously a region of emigration, immigration and large movements within its own borders. The departure of young adults can accelerate ageing in countries and communities of origin, leaving older relatives behind and draining scarce professional skills. Remittances may protect household incomes, but money sent from abroad cannot provide daily physical care.For receiving countries, migration can slow workforce decline and bring younger taxpayers into the system. It is not, however, a demographic switch that governments can simply turn on. Migrants need legal status, housing, language support where relevant, recognition of qualifications and access to formal employment. Poor integration can reproduce the same informality that already weakens public finances. Migration can redistribute population across the region, but it cannot reverse low fertility everywhere at once.Political incentives may make preparation harder. Older voters will form a growing share of electorates and will understandably defend pensions, health services and financial security. Younger households will demand affordable housing, education, childcare and better employment. Governments with limited revenue may present these needs as a competition between generations. That would be a costly mistake. Families span generations, and underinvestment in children today produces less productive workers and weaker pension finances tomorrow. The decline in the number of children also creates an opportunity. Smaller cohorts make it possible to spend more effectively on each child, improve early development, repair weak schools and expand technical education. A country with fewer young people cannot afford to waste their potential through poor teaching, malnutrition, violence or exclusion from employment. Human capital must replace population growth as the main engine of expansion.Policy should begin by abandoning the illusion that a cash payment for each birth can restore the family patterns of the twentieth century. One-off bonuses may change the timing of some births, but they do not resolve insecure work, expensive housing, inadequate childcare or the unequal division of care. Coercive or moralising pronatalism is even more dangerous. It treats women’s autonomy as the problem while ignoring the economic conditions that make desired parenthood difficult.A more credible family policy would make having children compatible with a modern life. That means reliable childcare, paid leave for both mothers and fathers, protection against workplace discrimination, predictable hours, affordable housing and reproductive health services. It also means reducing the burden of care that falls on women. Supporting families is not the same as demanding larger families. The objective should be to close the gap between the number of children people want and the number they believe they can responsibly raise.The second priority is productivity and formalisation. Governments need tax and social insurance systems that make formal employment easier for small firms and portable for workers who change jobs. Better technical education, digital infrastructure, access to finance and competition can help productive businesses expand. Higher female employment would soften workforce decline, but only if jobs provide sufficient pay and if childcare and eldercare are available.Pension reform must combine financial sustainability with social legitimacy. A universal floor can protect older people from poverty, while contributory benefits should reward formal work without excluding those whose careers were interrupted by unemployment, care or informality. Retirement ages may need gradual adjustment as healthy life expectancy rises, but rules should recognise differences in health, occupation and lifetime income. A construction worker and an office professional cannot be treated as though ageing affects them in the same way.Health policy must move towards prevention, primary care and the management of chronic disease long before old age. Long-term care should be treated as essential social infrastructure rather than a private family matter. Training carers, setting quality standards, supporting home and community services and giving respite to family members would create employment while allowing more women to remain in paid work.Older workers will also need a different labour market. Lifelong learning, flexible hours, anti-discrimination rules and adapted workplaces can help people remain productive voluntarily. The purpose is not to compel everyone to work indefinitely. It is to remove barriers that force capable people out while protecting those whose health or occupations make continued employment unreasonable.Latin America still has time, but not much. The region remains younger than Europe, and its total labour force has not yet begun a broad decline. That creates a final window in which reforms can be introduced before fiscal pressure intensifies. Waiting until the 2040s would mean attempting to build care systems, repair pensions and raise productivity after the ratio of workers to older dependants has already deteriorated sharply. The demographic crisis could become the worst of all not because Latin America will necessarily have the fewest babies or the oldest citizens, but because it risks combining rapid ageing with unfinished development. The decisive variable is no longer fertility alone. It is institutional readiness.A smaller and older population need not be poorer, lonelier or less dynamic. It can be healthier, more productive and better educated. Reaching that outcome requires governments to treat demography as a central economic issue rather than a distant social trend. Latin America does not need to force people to have children. It needs to make ordinary adulthood viable, parenthood compatible with aspiration and old age secure. Demography is not destiny, but prolonged political delay can make it feel like one.