Lebanon’s Historic Pines Are Dying, One Cone at a Time 

A car passes by a pine tree forest, where a pine crisis is unfolding, caused by an invasive insect that feeds on the cones that produce Lebanon's prized pine nuts, in Bkassine, Lebanon, October 21, 2025. (Reuters)
A car passes by a pine tree forest, where a pine crisis is unfolding, caused by an invasive insect that feeds on the cones that produce Lebanon's prized pine nuts, in Bkassine, Lebanon, October 21, 2025. (Reuters)
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Lebanon’s Historic Pines Are Dying, One Cone at a Time 

A car passes by a pine tree forest, where a pine crisis is unfolding, caused by an invasive insect that feeds on the cones that produce Lebanon's prized pine nuts, in Bkassine, Lebanon, October 21, 2025. (Reuters)
A car passes by a pine tree forest, where a pine crisis is unfolding, caused by an invasive insect that feeds on the cones that produce Lebanon's prized pine nuts, in Bkassine, Lebanon, October 21, 2025. (Reuters)

In the heart of southern Lebanon, where pine trees once stood tall and abundant, a quiet crisis is unfolding. The cones are barren, the trees are drying and a forest that was a lifeline for entire communities is under siege.

Farmers in Bkassine forest have watched their pine yields dwindle for years. At first, they blamed seasonal weather changes. Then, in 2015, scientists confirmed what many feared: an invasive insect had taken hold, one that feeds on the cones that produce Lebanon's prized pine nuts.

"It's not just the nuts," said Dr. Nabil Nemer, a forest health expert at the Holy Spirit University of Kaslik (USEK). "This insect attacks the cones over three years. It doesn't just reduce productivity, it wipes it out."

In some cases, up to 82% of a cone's seed pods are left as empty shells, according to Nemer. Trees weakened by the ravages of climate change are particularly vulnerable.

The insect, Leptoglossus occidentalis, is originally from North America and likely arrived in Lebanon via untreated wooden shipping pallets.

It has since spread across the Mediterranean to Türkiye, and other areas, according to his research.

Livelihoods are under threat in the Bkassine reserve, the Middle East's largest productive pine forest. The trees grow in other parts of Lebanon, but largely not commercially.

For decades, Miled Hareb's family survived on the forest's bounty. That is no longer the case.

"This work was passed down to me. I built my house with it and raised my family with it. But then the trees started dying, and so did our way of life," Hareb told Reuters.

Harvesting pine cones is grueling work. Workers climb towering trees with narrow ladders, balancing on narrow branches without safety gear to collect cones nestled high in the canopy.

Injuries are common and pay has dwindled along with the yields. Nabil Assad, a Syrian laborer who has harvested pine cones in Lebanon for more than a decade, still remembers when up to 250 pine-pickers worked simultaneously in Bkassine.

"Now it's just around 20 or 30 people. There's no work anymore," he said.

A DWINDLING ECOSYSTEM

Most of Lebanon's pine forests were planted hundreds of years ago. These older trees are still within their productive lifespans, but droughts, erratic rainfall and rising temperatures triggered by climate change have made them more vulnerable to the pests.

"A healthy tree can fight back," Nemer said. "But when it's thirsty and starved, it has no defense."

Ahead of this month's COP-30 climate summit in Belem, Brazil, UN officials stressed the importance of shielding forests from pest infestations and other risks, describing forests as "the planet's most powerful natural defense".

Bkassine forest was once home to around 100,000 productive pine trees, according to the UN Development Program.

The number has fluctuated: years of climate stress and pest infestations decreased them and efforts at replanting aimed to offset those losses, but no recent studies offer accurate new figures, Nemer said.

In addition to the cone-eating insect, wood-boring beetles are also killing pines. Dead trees litter the forest floor, attracting more pests and accelerating the decline.

Decades of political and economic turmoil in Lebanon have also taken a toll. After the country's brutal 1975-1990 civil war, state-led forest management fell by the wayside.

Illegal logging has surged since an economic meltdown in 2019.

As productivity drops, market prices have gone up - but few Lebanese can afford them. A kilogram of pine nuts now sells for nearly $100, from around $65 five years ago. Families and even restaurants have swapped out pine nuts for cheaper sliced almonds for Lebanese dishes that call for a crunch.

Efforts to fight back have been slow. Spraying pesticides requires helicopters, which are controlled by the Lebanese army. Logistical delays mean treatments often miss the critical window when insects lay their eggs.

Lebanon's agriculture ministry announced a national spraying campaign for this past August. But Nemer warns that without a broader strategy that involves farmers themselves, it won't be enough.

In Bkassine, farmers are learning to identify pests, report outbreaks and participate in forest management, through training programs led by USEK, the Lebanese Ministry of Agriculture, FAO and the United Nations Environment Program.

"We need to manage the forest as a whole," Nemer said. "This isn't a garden. It's not a farm. It's a living ecosystem."



There are no sudden countries.

Diriyah Biennale Foundation logo
Diriyah Biennale Foundation logo
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There are no sudden countries.

Diriyah Biennale Foundation logo
Diriyah Biennale Foundation logo

Donya Abdulhadi

Executive Director, Marketing, Communication and Strategic Partnerships

Diriyah Biennale Foundation

A slow-moving convoy is led through Wadi Hanifa towards the JAX District — a scene that merges heritage and natural landscape, pulsating with eager expression. Across the valley floor, vintage and new pickup trucks release their brakes and begin to slowly move after sunset, accompanied by camels and their handlers, clapping rhythmically, keeping movement paced and deliberate. The procession begins, as viewers watch in anticipation as it advances to where the Wadi ends and the district begins, culminating in its merging with hundreds of people in collective celebration, Saudi and non-Saudi communities alike, at the doors of the third edition of the Diriyah Contemporary Art Biennale.

This performative scene, led by Saudi artist 7amdan, in the heart of Diriyah, known as the birthplace of the Saudi state, is not only symbolic, but diagnostic. To understand Saudi Arabia today — its acceleration, its ambition and its demographic shifts — one must see it as continuation, rather than sudden rupture.

Yet, discourse about transformation in the Arab world often fixates on politics and economic output. Against this backdrop, what is frequently overlooked is the cultural practices that make nation-scale change sustainable. The seemingly “sudden” revival of old cities, the creation of new ones, the inward migration of talent, policy reforms and the announcements of investments have been the primary scenes driving international understandings of Saudi Arabia’s transformation. Yet, the opportunity to more accurately read this change as a part of a much larger, rhythmic “procession,” is laid bare.

The Diriyah Contemporary Art Biennale, conceived by the Diriyah Biennale Foundation, artistically directed by Nora Razian and Sabih Ahmed and titled In Interludes and Transitions, adopts procession as its opening metaphor. In Arab contexts, processions are often reduced to ritual display — pilgrims moving in unison, caravans crossing deserts, ceremonial marches through city streets. But procession has never been mere spectacle. It is infrastructure: the mechanism through which trade, belief, labor, and knowledge moved across terrain..

For centuries, the Arabian Peninsula has functioned as a corridor: between East Africa and South Asia, between the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean, between desert interiors and maritime routes. Trade, pilgrimage, seasonal migration, and the circulation of stories formed moving networks long before oil supported economic growth. Procession was not only physical movement; it has been the layering of skills, dialects, value systems, commercial and cultural practices across generations.

That pattern continues today, if in intensified form.

Today, Saudi Arabia is growing into one of the most demographically dynamic countries in the region. Expatriates constitute a ‘minority’ of more than 13 million residents — over 30% of the population — according to the Saudi General Authority for Statistics. These are not marginal, cosmetic figures; they reflect not temporary labor influx but a structural condition in which cross-border movement is foundational to the Kingdom’s social and economic architecture.

But migration is at times framed as sudden, episodic, even opportunistic — as individuals arriving to capitalize on growth or regulatory reform — when a more accurate reading is coordinated movement at scale: capital, labor, and expertise advancing in waves.

Consider the economic transformation underway. Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 has committed hundreds of billions of dollars toward diversification — tourism, logistics, renewable energy, entertainment, advanced manufacturing. The non-oil sector now contributes more than 50% of Saudi GDP. Crossing this threshold marks not diversification in theory, but a measurable shift in the engine of national growth from extractive dependence to multi-sector productivity. These figures signal structural and collective reorientation rather than incremental reform.

Procession in this region has in fact always been collective. Trade caravans moved in formation; pilgrimages operated in waves; ports thrived because of overlapping routes. Contemporary economic development follows a similar logic of embeddedness: partnerships with local entities, alignment with national transformation agendas, and participation in sectors are not bureaucratic formalities, but the modern equivalent of traveling in convoy.

Procession carries memory and implies sequencing. The region’s openness to global capital is not cultural amnesia; it is consistent with centuries of exchange. Riyadh’s rapid urban transformation is layered atop older routes. Reforms are phased, sector-specific, and often geographically concentrated. Nation-scale projects like Diriyah operate as critical nodes in a larger movement of urban and economic reconfiguration, designed to continue to attract long-term talent and capital. The labor statistics reinforce this. The volume of movement reflects systemic reliance on cross-border mobility instead of temporary flux.

Procession also implies visibility. In a caravan, each participant is seen, and reputation travels quickly. Trust, responsibility and credible contribution to collective goals matter. The region’s economic model, while globally integrated, remains relational at its core.

Like all changes, transformation is not frictionless. Regulatory frameworks evolve. Processions can re-route. Those looking to understand its transformation must recognize that the route is dynamic. Short-term extraction strategies — arrive, profit, exit — misread the scale of transformation underway.

The Biennale’s invocation of interludes and transitions offers a useful corrective to simplistic growth narratives. Saudi Arabia is not simplistically in acceleration; it moves through phases: consolidation, experimentation, recalibration. Periods of pause, regulatory and fiscal review and project restructuring might appear as reversals, but are actually interludes that prepare for the next transition.

Transformation here is neither chaotic nor accidental, but sequenced. It advances in steps, sometimes rapid, sometimes measured, but rarely isolated. Those who understand the rhythm of that movement participate in its momentum.

Procession, then, is not poetic flourish. It is a practical framework of reading change. In Saudi Arabia today, transformation moves in procession. The question is not whether it is occurring, but how attentively one reads its cadence and moves within it.


Stranded Whale Frees Itself Again Off German Coast and Disappears

Seagulls fly above a humpback whale that managed to free itself overnight from a sandbank in shallow waters of Wismar Bay in the Baltic Sea, near Wismar, Germany March 31, 2026. REUTERS/Annegret Hilse
Seagulls fly above a humpback whale that managed to free itself overnight from a sandbank in shallow waters of Wismar Bay in the Baltic Sea, near Wismar, Germany March 31, 2026. REUTERS/Annegret Hilse
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Stranded Whale Frees Itself Again Off German Coast and Disappears

Seagulls fly above a humpback whale that managed to free itself overnight from a sandbank in shallow waters of Wismar Bay in the Baltic Sea, near Wismar, Germany March 31, 2026. REUTERS/Annegret Hilse
Seagulls fly above a humpback whale that managed to free itself overnight from a sandbank in shallow waters of Wismar Bay in the Baltic Sea, near Wismar, Germany March 31, 2026. REUTERS/Annegret Hilse

A humpback whale struggling in shallow waters off Germany's northern Baltic Sea coast has freed itself for a third time and has now disappeared, a police spokesman told AFP Tuesday.

"The whale seems to have left Wismar. However, there have been no sightings so far," the spokesman for the city's water police said.

The 13.5-meter (44-foot) long animal has been struggling in shallow waters in the area for more than a week, having first been spotted in the early hours of March 23 near the city of Luebeck.

It managed to free itself from a sandbank there but ran into further difficulty after swimming east.

It twice became stuck on sandbanks close to the city of Wismar and over the weekend experts warned that its breathing rate had reduced.

Nevertheless experts hope that the whale may be able to make it back to its natural habitat in the Atlantic Ocean.

Speaking on ZDF television on Monday, marine biologist and rescue coordinator Burkard Baschek said the lack of sightings was a good sign.

"We haven't received any further reports so far, which is good," he said, adding: "We can now only hope that it will eventually manage to make it under its own steam."

The whale is believed to be suffering from skin problems due to the lower level of salt content in the Baltic Sea compared to the open ocean.

It is possible the whale came into the Baltic following a shoal of fish or having been distracted by the noise of a submarine.


India to Begin World’s Biggest Population Count

Commuters walk on a platform after disembarking from a suburban train at a railway station in Mumbai, India, January 21, 2023. (Reuters)
Commuters walk on a platform after disembarking from a suburban train at a railway station in Mumbai, India, January 21, 2023. (Reuters)
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India to Begin World’s Biggest Population Count

Commuters walk on a platform after disembarking from a suburban train at a railway station in Mumbai, India, January 21, 2023. (Reuters)
Commuters walk on a platform after disembarking from a suburban train at a railway station in Mumbai, India, January 21, 2023. (Reuters)

India will launch the world's largest census on Wednesday, with more than three million officials to take part in a vast counting exercise over the next year.

The South Asian nation, home to an estimated 1.4 billion people, faces mounting challenges in providing electricity, food and housing to its growing population.

Many of its sprawling megacities are already grappling with water shortages, air and water pollution, and overcrowded slums.

India's government calls the $1.24 billion count a "gigantic exercise of national importance" that could support "inclusive governance and evidence-based policy formulation".

The enumeration will also include the politically sensitive issue of caste, the millennia-old social hierarchy that divides Hindus by function and social standing.

The upcoming census presents a formidable logistical challenge. India's 2024 general election, the largest democratic exercise in history, was conducted in seven phases over six weeks.

The census will be carried out in two phases.

The first phase, beginning Wednesday and running until September, will involve a staggered, month-long enumeration to record details of housing and amenities.

The process will combine door-to-door visits with an option for online self-enumeration, linking to an app drawing on satellite imagery and available in 16 languages.

A second phase will focus on population data including demographic, social and economic details as well as the more contentious question of caste.

Caste remains a powerful determinant of social status in India, shaping access to resources, education and opportunity.

A caste survey conducted in 2011 was never published, with authorities citing inconsistencies in the data.

The last time comprehensive caste data was collected as part of a census was in 1931, under British colonial rule.

Governments since resisted updating the data, citing administrative complexity and concerns over potential social tensions.

For most of the country, population enumeration will take place in the weeks leading up to the reference date of March 1, 2027.

In high-altitude Himalayan regions -- including the disputed territory of Jammu and Kashmir -- it will take place ahead of October 1, 2026, before snowfall begins.

India has not conducted a census since 2011, after the 2021 round was delayed by the Covid-19 pandemic.

According to the last census, India's population was 1.21 billion.

In 2023, the United Nations estimated that India had surpassed China to become the world's most populous country, with more than 1.42 billion people.