For years, Mahmoud al-Abyari embodied the very paradox of power within the Muslim Brotherhood: occupying one of the organization’s most strategic positions—ranking third in the hierarchy of the International Organization of the Muslim Brotherhood (IOMB), after the Supreme Guide and his deputy—while remaining virtually invisible.

One must sometimes be wary of overly consensual words. “Inclusion,” “diversity,” “global movement,” “modest fashion” — terms which, through constant repetition, end up meaning nothing at all, or worse, something entirely different from what they claim. The 2026 edition of Modest Fashion Week, held from April 16 to 18 at Hôtel Le Marois in Paris, is a perfect illustration.

There are elections that, beyond the numbers, tell the story of a country. Municipal elections in France belong to that category. Because they delve into the everyday lives of citizens, they capture with particular sharpness the underlying forces — and fractures — shaping society.

With the passing of the German philosopher Jürgen Habermas at the age of ninety-six, contemporary thought loses one of its most influential voices. For more than six decades, Habermas stood at the center of philosophical, political, and sociological debates that shaped Europe and far beyond. A critical heir to the Frankfurt School, he was not merely its continuator: he profoundly renewed its legacy by reformulating its project around a central idea—communicative rationality.

In a deafening silence—the silence of great ideas when they withdraw from the clamor of the world—the Egyptian philosopher Mourad Wahba passed away at the age of 100, leaving behind a void that cannot be measured by the number of books published, but by the rarity of Arab voices capable, like his, of going against the grain of dominant thought. His death represents a major loss for Arab rationalism. It marks a rupture, a stark reminder that philosophy in the Arab world remains an act of resistance, and that the price of such resistance is paid dearly, sometimes long after death.

There are certain court summonses whose dull thud echoes far beyond the mere slam of courtroom doors. The one awaiting Jafar Panahi this Sunday, January 4, 2026, at Branch 26 of Tehran’s Revolutionary Court, resounds like a discordant note disturbing, at the start of the year, the uneasy silence of world cinema.

For the first time in recent Swedish history, Education and Integration Minister Simona Mohamsson has announced the launch of a government investigation into what she describes as “the Islamist infiltration of Swedish society.” At the heart of the inquiry lies the Muslim Brotherhood network, accused of exerting growing influence over certain institutions and local political organizations.

Donald Trump’s latest proposal to end the war in Gaza is less a diplomatic blueprint than a piece of political theater — part personal gamble, part headlong rush, part global spectacle. What the White House presents as a finely tuned, 20-point “peace plan” reads more like a survival script in which every actor clings to power, rather than a roadmap to lasting peace.

Some cases leave a mark not only on political life but also on the journalistic conscience of a country. The so-called Libyan financing affair involving Nicolas Sarkozy is one of them. Ten years of investigation, a lengthy trial, a former President sentenced to five years in prison. And at the origin of this judicial earthquake: a document published in May 2012 by Mediapart. A document that the courts later established to be a forgery, but which nonetheless opened the way to an investigation and eventually to a historic indictment.