In the rhetoric of Iran’s ayatollahs, the United States is the “Great Satan” while the Jewish state is the “Little Satan.” The Chinese Communist Party seems to have adopted a similar approach during the recent fighting between Israel and Hamas, writes Tuvia Gering:

China often portrays the U.S. as biased against the Palestinians, while positioning itself as the ideal mediator in regional conflicts. Indeed, China did contribute a balanced voice in the early days of the Gaza conflict, based on statements from the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs and state media. As the operation intensified, however, China began to criticize Israel, but, strangely enough, Israel was almost never mentioned. The U.S. was the main target of their polemics, as if it were bombing Palestinians.

China made it clear that it saw the military operation as an opening to tarnish the international image of its strategic rival, who also happens to be Israel’s most important ally. American claims that China perpetrated crimes against humanity and genocide against Muslims in Xinjiang made the Israel Defense Forces’ actions in Gaza the ideal battering ram for Beijing’s [propaganda].

[Moreover], Chinese criticisms were laced with anti-Semitic overtones. During the operation, an English-speaking presenter from China Global TV Network made egregiously anti-Semitic statements, claiming, among other things, that “Jews dominate [U.S.] finance, media, and Internet sectors.” Chinese diplomats active on Twitter have often shared anti-Zionist and at times anti-Semitic posts.

Former Chinese ambassadors to Israel would frequently declare, “there is no anti-Semitism in China.” Even if this were true in the past, it is no longer the case; such remarks are regularly broadcast on national platforms, not to mention the thousands of anti-Semitic articles and comments posted daily on personal blogs and popular nationalist sites. They instill hatred of Jews and the Jewish state in a new generation of Chinese people and contribute to the spread of global anti-Semitism.

When the Arab Spring came to Syria in 2011, the Druze for the most part remained loyal to the regime—which has generally depended on the support of religious minorities such as the Druze and thus afforded them a modicum of protection. But in the past several weeks that has changed, with sustained anti-government protests in the Druze-dominated southwestern province of Suwayda. Ehud Yaari evaluates the implications of this shift:

The disillusionment of the Druze with Bashar al-Assad, their suspicion of militias backed by Iran and Hizballah on the outskirts of their region, and growing economic hardships are fanning the flames of revolt. In Syrian Druze circles, there is now open discussion of “self-rule,” for example replacing government offices and services with local Druze alternative bodies.

Is there a politically acceptable way to assist the Druze and prevent the regime from the violent reoccupation of Jebel al-Druze, [as they call the area in which they live]? The answer is yes. It would require Jordan to open a short humanitarian corridor through the village of al-Anat, the southernmost point of the Druze community, less than three kilometers from the Syrian-Jordanian border.

Setting up a corridor to the Druze would require a broad consensus among Western and Gulf Arab states, which have currently suspended the process of normalization with Assad. . . . The cost of such an operation would not be high compared to the humanitarian corridors currently operating in northern Syria. It could be developed in stages, and perhaps ultimately include, if necessary, providing the Druze with weapons to defend their territory. A quick reminder: during the Islamic State attack on Suwayda province in 2018, the Druze demonstrated an ability to assemble close to 50,000 militia men almost overnight.