Joking or not, a European source said: on July 30, the day of the assault on Ceuta, the first thing many community advisors had to do was explain to their politicians where Ceuta was. Then, the chills came.

These are extraordinary times in Europe, and that is why the German Von der Leyen began her speech by quoting the Englishman Charles Dickens: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". The writer from Portsmouth, who would now have to show his passport to travel to his beloved Paris, thus defined Europe in the time of sharpened guillotines in France. Von der Leyen updated Dickens's thought before the European Parliament in Strasbourg: "The European Union is stronger than ever, and the European Union may seem more precarious than ever". The paradox is the literary figure that works best in times of despair, of urgency.In the hemicycle, listening to the speech on the state of the Union by the German woman, there was an extraordinary presence, that of another non-EU citizen: Mark Carney, former Governor of the Bank of England and of Canada, now treated as a guru in many European chancelleries thanks to a brilliant speech at the last Davos forum. That day, Carney said some things that community leaders had not dared to utter: he declared the old international order dead; he called on middle powers to unite and take a step forward to stop depending on the big ones; he hinted that it was necessary to stand up to Trump; and he left a monumental phrase: "If you are not at the table, you are on the menu".

If this political analysis of the health of the European Union were music, it would have to sound increscendo (intensity) with a few touches of ostinato (tension) and quite a few moments of tremolo (suspense).

Let's talk about Ceuta, a European border, a sensitive point for the entire European Union. And here comes the first paradox: from the beginning, a cornered Pedro Sánchez has insisted on interpreting the massive crossing of July 30th as a European crisis. His European allies have done precisely the opposite: reiterating that, above all, it is an internal affair, a Spanish crisis.

On the facade of the Nativity of the peaceful Sagrada Família, a scene is depicted that is the prelude to all wars: a demon offers a bomb to a worker. It is man's temptation by violence. The worker looks at the Virgin Mary for protection and to avoid throwing it. The world has found itself insistently facing this gaze. This gaze is especially relevant today. What makes the worker often end up throwing the bomb? This gaze is especially relevant today. What makes the worker often end up throwing the bomb?

The first response —and therefore the most sincere— from the European Union to the crisis in Ceuta orchestrated by Morocco has been what community policy can least afford: once again, division, a lack of unity. Pedro Sánchez, who from the outset has asked European partners for "solidarity and empathy", has found himself practically alone, singled out, questioned, threatened in the face of an external destabilization attempt. It took Ursula von der Leyen five days to publicly support Madrid. It is the minimum required by her office. Tuesday's emergency meeting in Brussels could serve to minimize the damage or make it deeper.

On Thursday afternoon, after understanding that the massive entry of young Moroccans into Ceuta was, above all, a political move, from ARA we contacted several experts in the region to try to decipher the why now. The response from all of them was that it was too early to have clear clues. I especially liked the message that one of them conveyed to me: "More than me, the questions should be asked to Morocco".

There is a magnificent football quote from Jean-Paul Sartre that condenses the essence of the Trumpist manual: “In football, everything is complicated by the presence of the opposing team.” Donald Trump has based his political career on an identical premise: in the United States, everything is complicated by the presence of opponents.

This is a compass article. Like the magnetized needle instrument, the aim of these words is to try to show us where we are. Or, more precisely, where the Iran war is, a strident earthquake that has strained international politics and the economy.

Portuguese fado, a European music, recurrently speaks of a feeling that now makes us think of Europe's political moment with the United States: an old love, which has turned into pain, into mistreatment, but which is hard to let go of. In essence, geopolitics is also a story of loves and dislikes and, therefore, of divorces.

Donald Trump has taken another step in the trade war with Europe and has announced a 25% tariff on trucks and cars manufactured in the European Union that are marketed in the United States. According to a message published on Truth Social this Friday, he expects the measure to come into effect "next week".

Missiles test advertising logic, and the slogan of the grand Al Bahar hotel did not account for the Third Gulf War: "Enjoy a perfect combination of luxury and serenity".

Donald Trump's roller coaster doctrine has permeated the third Gulf War from the outset. This weekend we have seen another abrupt, precipitous turn: from the moderate optimism generated by the start of talks between Americans and Iranians in Islamabad, after the last-minute agreement on Tuesday that averted "hell" in the Middle East; to worrying pessimism due to the lack of agreement in Pakistani meeting rooms and the return to the most visceral threats between Washington and Tehran, which hint at bombing the strategic Hormuz, the epicenter of this war, again.hint at a renewed bombing of strategic Hormuz, the epicenter of this war.Tehran responded quickly, stating that it will consider it a violation of the ceasefire if military ships approach Hormuz and that, therefore, it will respond forcefully. The blockade of Hormuz by the Iranians —their strategic philosopher's stone— has indeed stifled the global economy, and with sufficient effectiveness, placing Washington in a compromised position.

The navy of the ayatollah regime was disseminating on Thursday a map from another era: on paper, and in black and white. According to the Iranian agency ISNA, the document shows the approximate location of naval mines that the Revolutionary Guard has installed in the precious waters of the Strait of Hormuz during five weeks of war. The paper recommends alternative routes to oil tankers and other commercial vessels to safely cross the passage, avoiding the bombs.

The day after the night when an entire civilization was to be annihilated, a robot-man and a robot-dog were doing somersaults in Dubai. Tourists were photographing them as they waited to enter the future. The future has been very dizzying these days in the Gulf countries. The uncertain future of the Gulf is still dizzying.

This article is being written from the 41st floor of one of the many superlative hotels in Dubai. 

The future of the world is being decided these days in the petroleum-blue waters of Hormuz. The headline is blunt, but it didn't scare Captain Ibrahim. Business comes before Trump's war. And business is in crisis because of Trump's war. 

Trump, a confessed believer, might find solace in a biblical mantra: the ways of war are inscrutable. The slogan should sound familiar. Pentagon generals had warned him of the high risk of getting bogged down in an operation against Tehran. Four weeks of bombs later, the mud is undeniable, the war has never gone as the president imagined, and Washington finds itself in a very complicated position, on the brink of geopolitical failure.

We've had three weeks of bombing in Tehran—and in Tel Aviv, and Beirut, and Riyadh, and Doha...—and the war, the third Gulf War, has entered a thorny phase for Washington.

Before dropping the first bombs on Tehran, the Pentagon conducted military and political calculations, issuing a forecast: the war in Iran would last four weeks. The Pentagon's calculations, which were agreed upon with President Trump, They defied a historical norm: it is easy to start a war and difficult to end it. Albert Camus defined it with more sophisticated literature: "When a war breaks out, people say this can't last, that it's too stupid. And, undoubtedly, a war is obviously too stupid, but that doesn't stop it from lasting. Stupidity always persists."