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It was ten years ago this spring that "shock and awe" and "mission accomplished" entered the lexicon of American war-talk. On March 20, 2003, "shock and awe" became words used to describe the opening explosions of the U.S. war in Iraq. Just a few weeks later, on May Day of that year, President George W.
It was ten years ago this spring that "shock and awe" and "mission accomplished" entered the lexicon of American war-talk. On March 20, 2003, "shock and awe" became words used to describe the opening explosions of the U.S. war in Iraq. Just a few weeks later, on May Day of that year, President George W. Bush stood proudly on the deck of an American warship and boasted that the mission of liberating Iraq had been accomplished.
We all know better now. The violent mission had really just begun with an occupation by U.S. forces that would last a decade, causing many thousands of casualties. Billions of dollars slated for Iraq reconstruction have failed to appear as promised, leaving a country still devastated by the ravages of war even as American troops begin their exit.
But there is another kind of mission being accomplished in Iraq from the bottom-up that offers at least a glimmer of hope. Now, thanks to efforts of a courageous Iraqi-American peacemaker and his cadre of helpers, the words "mission accomplished" have taken on a whole new meaning.
I first met Sami Rasouli while I was gathering stories for my recent book: The Compassionate Rebel Revolution: Ordinary People Changing the World. I interviewed him at the Minneapolis home of peace activists John and Marie Braun, who are his close friends.
Rasouli is proud of the childhood memories he has from his home country and of the extended family that lives there. But he is also very much an American. For years, he ran a popular restaurant in northeastern Minneapolis called Sinbad's, which helped make him a leader in the local Muslim community and, eventually, a vocal early critic of the war in Iraq.
At 24, Rasouli left Iraq to come to the United States, which he perceived to be "the crown jewel of the hemisphere -- a land of freedom and opportunity." But upon arriving he had trouble finding work and ended up driving taxis for a living until he opened Sinbad's in 1993. He turned it into not just a restaurant but also "an embassy for Arab culture." It was the center of his increasing involvement in the local Muslim community and its outreach to other cultures in the Twin Cities.
After the U.S. invasion of Kuwait in 1991, Rasouli began speaking out against the war and participating in anti-war demonstrations -- activities that nearly shattered his American dream. He received threats against his life and his business. "People would call me and say 'go back home to your country,'" he recalls.
Once he was awoken from bed in the middle of the night with a phone call telling him to go to Sinbad's. There, he was shocked to find that the front window of the restaurant had been shattered, apparently by a bullet. After that he lost many of his Muslim customers who felt threatened and didn't want to be associated with his anti-war activities. But the incident only steeled Rasouli's resolve to work for peace.
In November 2003, seven months after the U.S. invasion of Iraq began, Rasouli went home to Iraq for the first time in 27 years to visit his family and to examine the impact of the U.S. occupation. There he had his own experience of shock and awe. He noticed how much the American sanctions had destroyed the country's infrastructure and affected the health and well-being of the residents, and how disenchanted young people were joining the insurgency. He was so devastated by what he saw that, upon returning to the United States, he sold Sinbad's and planned for a prolonged trip back.
A year later, Rasouli returned to Iraq with the intention of staying at least five years, with occasional visits to Minnesota to report on his experiences -- "to tell the truth" about what was happening in Iraq. In Fallujah, Rasouli noticed the impact of the relentless attacks on that city and the surrounding areas. Some 5,000 homes had been destroyed, along with 30,000 more damaged and about 300,000 people displaced. He visited the refugee camps and worked with humanitarian organizations to deliver food and medicine to the displaced and listen to their stories.
Angered by that experience, Rasouli formed the Muslim Peacemaker Team, a small group of Iraqis dressed in janitor's uniforms on a mission to clean up trash on the ravaged streets of Fallujah. In a time and place where guns, bombs and occupying soldiers prevailed, their garbage bags became potent weapons of peace and a symbolic precursor to the rebuilding of the city. The 15-member peace team provided training, consulting and other kinds of support to the refugees. It educated families in the basic domestic chores of life in a refugee camp, such as boiling food to compensate for the lack of available clean water.
Rasouli's organizing soon swelled into the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project, the mission of which is "to promote reconciliation between Iraqis and Americans by recognizing the common bonds they share and providing opportunities for communication and understanding." The organization created a sister city relationship between Najaf, Iraq, and Minneapolis, through which the two countries exchange visiting delegations.
Having strong ties to both countries puts Rasouli in a unique position. "Not too many others can speak both languages," he says. "I feel privileged being both the oppressor and the oppressed. I would like to be a bridge between them."
Another integral part of that bridge-building process is the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Team's Water for Peace project. As recently as 2010, one of every four Iraqis did not have access to sanitary water; the country's water supplies had been polluted by more than 30 years of war, sanctions and mismanagement, exposing residents to water-borne bacteria. Iraqi parents have been afraid to send their children to schools that lacked safe drinking water, preventing them from getting the education they needed.
During the past year, Water for Peace has installed water filtration systems in more than 80 Iraqi schools and hospitals serving some 42,000 people. Instead of being solely a charitable effort, Water for Peace is part of an overall strategy to improve the relationship between ordinary Iraqis and ordinary Americans. Like the garbage bags in Fallujah, this project is a nonviolent weapon for peace and reconciliation.
Working for peace in a war zone is a risky business, and Rasouli prefers to travel the country without a bodyguard. He has frequently had to diffuse tension and conflict while accompanying American visitors across the border into Iraq. He often encounters resistance from Iraqi guards who are used to Americans with weapons. Rasouli has taken pains to demonstrate that there are U.S. visitors who come unarmed and who are interested in peace.
Last year, on the way to a refugee camp Rasouli suffered a broken hip when his vehicle was hit by an Iraqi truck. (He prefers to believe it was an accident.) After Iraqi doctors botched his operation, he had to be rushed back to Minnesota for hip-replacement surgery. As he recovered with the aid of crutches, he made speaking appearances in the Twin Cities to share stories about the effects of the war. He continues to deal with an ongoing foot injury that resulted from the Iraqi surgery.
Living up to his name, which means "messenger," Rasouli continues to shuttle between his two home countries, often with Iraqis and Americans in tow. During one of his visits, he brought Iraqi children crippled by cluster bombs to the United States, where they told their stories to an audience of peace activists at a Minneapolis church. He has brought the work of Iraqis to U.S. art galleries. The Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project has also recently partnered with Advocates for Human Rights, the Veterans Book Project, and independent artists Nathan Fisher and Monica Haller to develop the Voices of Iraqi Refugees curriculum for elementary, middle and high school students.
Generations of Iraqi children who have grown up knowing only the devastation of war now have a chance to live in peace. As the war slowly winds down, the work of Rasouli and the organizations he has created are helping to heal the wounds that conflict has inflicted -- transforming the legacy of shock and awe into one in which Rasouli's mission of peace and collaboration can truly be accomplished.
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It was ten years ago this spring that "shock and awe" and "mission accomplished" entered the lexicon of American war-talk. On March 20, 2003, "shock and awe" became words used to describe the opening explosions of the U.S. war in Iraq. Just a few weeks later, on May Day of that year, President George W. Bush stood proudly on the deck of an American warship and boasted that the mission of liberating Iraq had been accomplished.
We all know better now. The violent mission had really just begun with an occupation by U.S. forces that would last a decade, causing many thousands of casualties. Billions of dollars slated for Iraq reconstruction have failed to appear as promised, leaving a country still devastated by the ravages of war even as American troops begin their exit.
But there is another kind of mission being accomplished in Iraq from the bottom-up that offers at least a glimmer of hope. Now, thanks to efforts of a courageous Iraqi-American peacemaker and his cadre of helpers, the words "mission accomplished" have taken on a whole new meaning.
I first met Sami Rasouli while I was gathering stories for my recent book: The Compassionate Rebel Revolution: Ordinary People Changing the World. I interviewed him at the Minneapolis home of peace activists John and Marie Braun, who are his close friends.
Rasouli is proud of the childhood memories he has from his home country and of the extended family that lives there. But he is also very much an American. For years, he ran a popular restaurant in northeastern Minneapolis called Sinbad's, which helped make him a leader in the local Muslim community and, eventually, a vocal early critic of the war in Iraq.
At 24, Rasouli left Iraq to come to the United States, which he perceived to be "the crown jewel of the hemisphere -- a land of freedom and opportunity." But upon arriving he had trouble finding work and ended up driving taxis for a living until he opened Sinbad's in 1993. He turned it into not just a restaurant but also "an embassy for Arab culture." It was the center of his increasing involvement in the local Muslim community and its outreach to other cultures in the Twin Cities.
After the U.S. invasion of Kuwait in 1991, Rasouli began speaking out against the war and participating in anti-war demonstrations -- activities that nearly shattered his American dream. He received threats against his life and his business. "People would call me and say 'go back home to your country,'" he recalls.
Once he was awoken from bed in the middle of the night with a phone call telling him to go to Sinbad's. There, he was shocked to find that the front window of the restaurant had been shattered, apparently by a bullet. After that he lost many of his Muslim customers who felt threatened and didn't want to be associated with his anti-war activities. But the incident only steeled Rasouli's resolve to work for peace.
In November 2003, seven months after the U.S. invasion of Iraq began, Rasouli went home to Iraq for the first time in 27 years to visit his family and to examine the impact of the U.S. occupation. There he had his own experience of shock and awe. He noticed how much the American sanctions had destroyed the country's infrastructure and affected the health and well-being of the residents, and how disenchanted young people were joining the insurgency. He was so devastated by what he saw that, upon returning to the United States, he sold Sinbad's and planned for a prolonged trip back.
A year later, Rasouli returned to Iraq with the intention of staying at least five years, with occasional visits to Minnesota to report on his experiences -- "to tell the truth" about what was happening in Iraq. In Fallujah, Rasouli noticed the impact of the relentless attacks on that city and the surrounding areas. Some 5,000 homes had been destroyed, along with 30,000 more damaged and about 300,000 people displaced. He visited the refugee camps and worked with humanitarian organizations to deliver food and medicine to the displaced and listen to their stories.
Angered by that experience, Rasouli formed the Muslim Peacemaker Team, a small group of Iraqis dressed in janitor's uniforms on a mission to clean up trash on the ravaged streets of Fallujah. In a time and place where guns, bombs and occupying soldiers prevailed, their garbage bags became potent weapons of peace and a symbolic precursor to the rebuilding of the city. The 15-member peace team provided training, consulting and other kinds of support to the refugees. It educated families in the basic domestic chores of life in a refugee camp, such as boiling food to compensate for the lack of available clean water.
Rasouli's organizing soon swelled into the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project, the mission of which is "to promote reconciliation between Iraqis and Americans by recognizing the common bonds they share and providing opportunities for communication and understanding." The organization created a sister city relationship between Najaf, Iraq, and Minneapolis, through which the two countries exchange visiting delegations.
Having strong ties to both countries puts Rasouli in a unique position. "Not too many others can speak both languages," he says. "I feel privileged being both the oppressor and the oppressed. I would like to be a bridge between them."
Another integral part of that bridge-building process is the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Team's Water for Peace project. As recently as 2010, one of every four Iraqis did not have access to sanitary water; the country's water supplies had been polluted by more than 30 years of war, sanctions and mismanagement, exposing residents to water-borne bacteria. Iraqi parents have been afraid to send their children to schools that lacked safe drinking water, preventing them from getting the education they needed.
During the past year, Water for Peace has installed water filtration systems in more than 80 Iraqi schools and hospitals serving some 42,000 people. Instead of being solely a charitable effort, Water for Peace is part of an overall strategy to improve the relationship between ordinary Iraqis and ordinary Americans. Like the garbage bags in Fallujah, this project is a nonviolent weapon for peace and reconciliation.
Working for peace in a war zone is a risky business, and Rasouli prefers to travel the country without a bodyguard. He has frequently had to diffuse tension and conflict while accompanying American visitors across the border into Iraq. He often encounters resistance from Iraqi guards who are used to Americans with weapons. Rasouli has taken pains to demonstrate that there are U.S. visitors who come unarmed and who are interested in peace.
Last year, on the way to a refugee camp Rasouli suffered a broken hip when his vehicle was hit by an Iraqi truck. (He prefers to believe it was an accident.) After Iraqi doctors botched his operation, he had to be rushed back to Minnesota for hip-replacement surgery. As he recovered with the aid of crutches, he made speaking appearances in the Twin Cities to share stories about the effects of the war. He continues to deal with an ongoing foot injury that resulted from the Iraqi surgery.
Living up to his name, which means "messenger," Rasouli continues to shuttle between his two home countries, often with Iraqis and Americans in tow. During one of his visits, he brought Iraqi children crippled by cluster bombs to the United States, where they told their stories to an audience of peace activists at a Minneapolis church. He has brought the work of Iraqis to U.S. art galleries. The Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project has also recently partnered with Advocates for Human Rights, the Veterans Book Project, and independent artists Nathan Fisher and Monica Haller to develop the Voices of Iraqi Refugees curriculum for elementary, middle and high school students.
Generations of Iraqi children who have grown up knowing only the devastation of war now have a chance to live in peace. As the war slowly winds down, the work of Rasouli and the organizations he has created are helping to heal the wounds that conflict has inflicted -- transforming the legacy of shock and awe into one in which Rasouli's mission of peace and collaboration can truly be accomplished.
It was ten years ago this spring that "shock and awe" and "mission accomplished" entered the lexicon of American war-talk. On March 20, 2003, "shock and awe" became words used to describe the opening explosions of the U.S. war in Iraq. Just a few weeks later, on May Day of that year, President George W. Bush stood proudly on the deck of an American warship and boasted that the mission of liberating Iraq had been accomplished.
We all know better now. The violent mission had really just begun with an occupation by U.S. forces that would last a decade, causing many thousands of casualties. Billions of dollars slated for Iraq reconstruction have failed to appear as promised, leaving a country still devastated by the ravages of war even as American troops begin their exit.
But there is another kind of mission being accomplished in Iraq from the bottom-up that offers at least a glimmer of hope. Now, thanks to efforts of a courageous Iraqi-American peacemaker and his cadre of helpers, the words "mission accomplished" have taken on a whole new meaning.
I first met Sami Rasouli while I was gathering stories for my recent book: The Compassionate Rebel Revolution: Ordinary People Changing the World. I interviewed him at the Minneapolis home of peace activists John and Marie Braun, who are his close friends.
Rasouli is proud of the childhood memories he has from his home country and of the extended family that lives there. But he is also very much an American. For years, he ran a popular restaurant in northeastern Minneapolis called Sinbad's, which helped make him a leader in the local Muslim community and, eventually, a vocal early critic of the war in Iraq.
At 24, Rasouli left Iraq to come to the United States, which he perceived to be "the crown jewel of the hemisphere -- a land of freedom and opportunity." But upon arriving he had trouble finding work and ended up driving taxis for a living until he opened Sinbad's in 1993. He turned it into not just a restaurant but also "an embassy for Arab culture." It was the center of his increasing involvement in the local Muslim community and its outreach to other cultures in the Twin Cities.
After the U.S. invasion of Kuwait in 1991, Rasouli began speaking out against the war and participating in anti-war demonstrations -- activities that nearly shattered his American dream. He received threats against his life and his business. "People would call me and say 'go back home to your country,'" he recalls.
Once he was awoken from bed in the middle of the night with a phone call telling him to go to Sinbad's. There, he was shocked to find that the front window of the restaurant had been shattered, apparently by a bullet. After that he lost many of his Muslim customers who felt threatened and didn't want to be associated with his anti-war activities. But the incident only steeled Rasouli's resolve to work for peace.
In November 2003, seven months after the U.S. invasion of Iraq began, Rasouli went home to Iraq for the first time in 27 years to visit his family and to examine the impact of the U.S. occupation. There he had his own experience of shock and awe. He noticed how much the American sanctions had destroyed the country's infrastructure and affected the health and well-being of the residents, and how disenchanted young people were joining the insurgency. He was so devastated by what he saw that, upon returning to the United States, he sold Sinbad's and planned for a prolonged trip back.
A year later, Rasouli returned to Iraq with the intention of staying at least five years, with occasional visits to Minnesota to report on his experiences -- "to tell the truth" about what was happening in Iraq. In Fallujah, Rasouli noticed the impact of the relentless attacks on that city and the surrounding areas. Some 5,000 homes had been destroyed, along with 30,000 more damaged and about 300,000 people displaced. He visited the refugee camps and worked with humanitarian organizations to deliver food and medicine to the displaced and listen to their stories.
Angered by that experience, Rasouli formed the Muslim Peacemaker Team, a small group of Iraqis dressed in janitor's uniforms on a mission to clean up trash on the ravaged streets of Fallujah. In a time and place where guns, bombs and occupying soldiers prevailed, their garbage bags became potent weapons of peace and a symbolic precursor to the rebuilding of the city. The 15-member peace team provided training, consulting and other kinds of support to the refugees. It educated families in the basic domestic chores of life in a refugee camp, such as boiling food to compensate for the lack of available clean water.
Rasouli's organizing soon swelled into the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project, the mission of which is "to promote reconciliation between Iraqis and Americans by recognizing the common bonds they share and providing opportunities for communication and understanding." The organization created a sister city relationship between Najaf, Iraq, and Minneapolis, through which the two countries exchange visiting delegations.
Having strong ties to both countries puts Rasouli in a unique position. "Not too many others can speak both languages," he says. "I feel privileged being both the oppressor and the oppressed. I would like to be a bridge between them."
Another integral part of that bridge-building process is the Iraqi-American Reconciliation Team's Water for Peace project. As recently as 2010, one of every four Iraqis did not have access to sanitary water; the country's water supplies had been polluted by more than 30 years of war, sanctions and mismanagement, exposing residents to water-borne bacteria. Iraqi parents have been afraid to send their children to schools that lacked safe drinking water, preventing them from getting the education they needed.
During the past year, Water for Peace has installed water filtration systems in more than 80 Iraqi schools and hospitals serving some 42,000 people. Instead of being solely a charitable effort, Water for Peace is part of an overall strategy to improve the relationship between ordinary Iraqis and ordinary Americans. Like the garbage bags in Fallujah, this project is a nonviolent weapon for peace and reconciliation.
Working for peace in a war zone is a risky business, and Rasouli prefers to travel the country without a bodyguard. He has frequently had to diffuse tension and conflict while accompanying American visitors across the border into Iraq. He often encounters resistance from Iraqi guards who are used to Americans with weapons. Rasouli has taken pains to demonstrate that there are U.S. visitors who come unarmed and who are interested in peace.
Last year, on the way to a refugee camp Rasouli suffered a broken hip when his vehicle was hit by an Iraqi truck. (He prefers to believe it was an accident.) After Iraqi doctors botched his operation, he had to be rushed back to Minnesota for hip-replacement surgery. As he recovered with the aid of crutches, he made speaking appearances in the Twin Cities to share stories about the effects of the war. He continues to deal with an ongoing foot injury that resulted from the Iraqi surgery.
Living up to his name, which means "messenger," Rasouli continues to shuttle between his two home countries, often with Iraqis and Americans in tow. During one of his visits, he brought Iraqi children crippled by cluster bombs to the United States, where they told their stories to an audience of peace activists at a Minneapolis church. He has brought the work of Iraqis to U.S. art galleries. The Iraqi-American Reconciliation Project has also recently partnered with Advocates for Human Rights, the Veterans Book Project, and independent artists Nathan Fisher and Monica Haller to develop the Voices of Iraqi Refugees curriculum for elementary, middle and high school students.
Generations of Iraqi children who have grown up knowing only the devastation of war now have a chance to live in peace. As the war slowly winds down, the work of Rasouli and the organizations he has created are helping to heal the wounds that conflict has inflicted -- transforming the legacy of shock and awe into one in which Rasouli's mission of peace and collaboration can truly be accomplished.
Rep. Greg Casar accused Trump and his Republican allies of "trying to pull off the most corrupt bargain I've ever seen."
Progressives rallied across the country on Saturday to protest against US President Donald Trump's attempts to get Republican-run state legislatures to redraw their maps to benefit GOP candidates in the 2026 midterm elections.
The anchor rally for the nationwide "Fight the Trump Takeover" protests was held in Austin, Texas, where Republicans in the state are poised to become the first in the nation to redraw their maps at the president's behest.
Progressives in the Lone Star State capital rallied against Trump and Texas Gov. Greg Abbott for breaking with historical precedent by carrying out congressional redistricting in the middle of the decade. Independent experts have estimated that the Texas gerrymandering alone could yield the GOP five additional seats in the US House of Representatives.
Speaking before a boisterous crowd of thousands of people, Rep. Lloyd Doggett (D-Texas) charged that the Texas GOP was drawing up "districts set up to elect a Trump minion" in next year's midterms. However, Doggett also said that progressives should still try to compete in these districts, whose residents voted for Trump in the 2024 election but who also have histories of supporting Democratic candidates.
"Next year, [Trump is] not going to be on the ballot to draw the MAGA vote," said Doggett. "Is there anyone here who believes that we ought to abandon any of these redrawn districts and surrender them to Trump?"
Leonard Aguilar, the secretary-treasurer of Texas AFL-CIO, attacked Abbott for doing the president's bidding even as people in central Texas are still struggling in the aftermath of the deadly floods last month that killed at least 136 people.
"It's time for Gov. Abbott to cut the bullshit," he said. "We need help now but he's working at the behest of the president, on behalf of Trump... He's letting Trump take over Texas!"
Aguilar also speculated that Trump is fixated on having Texas redraw its maps because he "knows he's in trouble and he wants to change the rules midstream."
Rep. Greg Casar (D-Texas) went through a litany of grievances against Trump and the Republican Party, ranging from the Texas redistricting plan, to hardline immigration policies, to the massive GOP budget package passed last month that is projected to kick 17 million Americans off of Medicaid.
However, Casar also said that he felt hope watching how people in Austin were fighting back against Trump and his policies.
"I'm proud that our city is fighting," he said. "I'm proud of the grit that we have even when the odds are stacked against us. The only answer to oligarchy is organization."
Casar went on to accuse Trump and Republicans or "trying to pull off the most corrupt bargain I've ever seen," and then added that "as they try to kick us off our healthcare, as they try to rig this election, we're not going to let them!"
Saturday's protests are being done in partnership with several prominent progressive groups, including Indivisible, MoveOn, Human Rights Campaign, Public Citizen, and the Communication Workers of America. Some Texas-specific groups—including Texas Freedom Network, Texas AFL-CIO, and Texas for All—are also partners in the protest.
Judge Rossie Alston Jr. ruled the plaintiffs had failed to prove the groups provided "ongoing, continuous, systematic, and material support for Hamas and its affiliates."
A federal judge appointed in 2019 by US President Donald Trump has dismissed a lawsuit filed against pro-Palestinian organizations that alleged they were fronts for the terrorist organization Hamas.
In a ruling issued on Friday, Judge Rossie Alston Jr. of the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia found that the plaintiffs who filed the case against the pro-Palestine groups had not sufficiently demonstrated a clear link between the groups and Hamas' attack on Israel on October 7, 2023.
The plaintiffs in the case—consisting of seven Americans and two Israelis—were all victims of the Hamas attack that killed an estimated 1,200 people, including more than 700 Israeli civilians.
They alleged that the pro-Palestinian groups—including National Students for Justice in Palestine, WESPAC Foundation, and Americans for Justice in Palestine Educational Foundation—provided material support to Hamas that directly led to injuries they suffered as a result of the October 7 attack.
This alleged support for Hamas, the plaintiffs argued, violated both the Anti-Terrorism Act and the Alien Tort Statute.
However, after examining all the evidence presented by the plaintiffs, Alston found they had not proven their claim that the organizations in question provide "ongoing, continuous, systematic, and material support for Hamas and its affiliates."
Specifically, Alston said that the claims made by the plaintiffs "are all very general and conclusory and do not specifically relate to the injuries" that they suffered in the Hamas attack.
"Although plaintiffs conclude that defendants have aided and abetted Hamas by providing it with 'material support despite knowledge of Hamas' terrorist activity both before, during, and after its October 7 terrorist attack,' plaintiffs do not allege that any planning, preparation, funding, or execution of the October 7, 2023 attack or any violations of international law by Hamas occurred in the United States," Alston emphasized. "None of the direct attackers are alleged to be citizens of the United States."
Alston was unconvinced by the plaintiffs' claims that the pro-Palestinian organizations "act as Hamas' public relations division, recruiting domestic foot soldiers to disseminate Hamas’s propaganda," and he similarly dismissed them as "vague and conclusory."
He then said that the plaintiffs did not establish that these "public relations" activities purportedly done on behalf of Hamas had "aided and abetted Hamas in carrying out the specific October 7, 2023 attack (or subsequent or continuing Hamas violations) that caused the Israeli Plaintiffs' injuries."
Alston concluded by dismissing the plaintiffs' case without prejudice, meaning they are free to file an amended lawsuit against the plaintiffs within 30 days of the judge's ruling.
"Putin got one hell of a photo op out of Trump," wrote one critic.
US President Donald Trump on Saturday morning tried to put his best spin on a Friday summit with Russian President Vladimir Putin that yielded neither a cease-fire agreement nor a comprehensive peace deal to end the war in Ukraine.
Writing on his Truth Social page, the president took a victory lap over the summit despite coming home completely empty-handed when he flew back from Alaska on Friday night.
"A great and very successful day in Alaska!" Trump began. "The meeting with President Vladimir Putin of Russia went very well, as did a late night phone call with President Zelenskyy of Ukraine, and various European Leaders, including the highly respected Secretary General of NATO."
Trump then pivoted to saying that he was fine with not obtaining a cease-fire agreement, even though he said just days before that he'd impose "severe consequences" on Russia if it did not agree to one.
"It was determined by all that the best way to end the horrific war between Russia and Ukraine is to go directly to a Peace Agreement, which would end the war, and not a mere Cease-fire Agreement, which often times do not hold up," Trump said. "President Zelenskyy will be coming to DC, the Oval Office, on Monday afternoon. If all works out, we will then schedule a meeting with President Putin. Potentially, millions of people's lives will be saved."
While Trump did his best to put a happy face on the summit, many critics contended it was nothing short of a debacle for the US president.
Writing in The New Yorker, Susan Glasser argued that the entire summit with Putin was a "self-own of embarrassing proportions," given that he literally rolled out the red carpet for his Russian counterpart and did not achieve any success in bringing the war to a close.
"Putin got one hell of a photo op out of Trump, and still more time on the clock to prosecute his war against the 'brotherly' Ukrainian people, as he had the chutzpah to call them during his remarks in Alaska," she wrote. "The most enduring images from Anchorage, it seems, will be its grotesque displays of bonhomie between the dictator and his longtime American admirer."
She also noted that Trump appeared to shift the entire burden of ending the war onto Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and he even said after the Putin summit that "it's really up to President Zelenskyy to get it done."
This led Glasser to comment that "if there's one unwavering Law of Trump, this is it: Whatever happens, it is never, ever, his fault."
Glasser wasn't the only critic to offer a scathing assessment of the summit. The Economist blasted Trump in an editorial about the meeting, which it labeled a "gift" to Putin. The magazine also contrasted the way that Trump treated Putin during his visit to American soil with the way that he treated Zelenskyy during an Oval Office meeting earlier this year.
"The honors for Mr. Putin were in sharp contrast to the public humiliation that Mr. Trump and his advisers inflicted on Mr. Zelenskyy during his first visit to the White House earlier this year," they wrote. "Since then relations with Ukraine have improved, but Mr. Trump has often been quick to blame it for being invaded; and he has proved strangely indulgent with Mr. Putin."
Michael McFaul, an American ambassador to Russia under former President Barack Obama, was struck by just how much effort went into holding a summit that accomplished nothing.
"Summits usually have deliverables," he told The Atlantic. "This meeting had none... I hope that they made some progress towards next steps in the peace process. But there is no evidence of that yet."