A few news items from this morning. An Iranian nuclear physicist was killed by a bomb attached to a bicycle, and the Iranians quickly started pointing fingers at the US and Israel. A rational response, I’d think, but this is a crime we’re not ever likely to know the origin of. Wondering what the Israeli press was saying about this, I clicked over to a few papers and saw a different item, that opened: “Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declared on Tuesday that Israel would never cede control of united Jerusalem nor retreat to the 1967 borders, according to a bureau statement.”

Yikes. Well, then, it’s just not happening. No way. Thanks for coming out. Talk about your nuclear options. Imagine having the power to just toss aside decades of attempted negotiations and other peace efforts, not to mention the blood that’s been shed, with a single statement. Netanyahu isn’t the only one who has or who wields this power, but he is the most powerful right now, and he is the latest and most obvious example. Is there any chance that the US would really respond meaningfully?

Then, in Afghanistan, a story that shows that the winter is no longer down season for fighting. That dynamic has been changing dramatically over the past several years. Another new, or new-ish development, a drone attack inside Afghanistan, in Helmand, to be precise, that killed 16 people. They “seemed to be insurgents” villagers told the New York Times. Given McChrystal’s welcome emphasis on not killing civilians with air strikes, this is an interesting development. Could it be that we’ll be seeing more drones fire their missiles into southern Afghanistan? Could it be related to the killings of the intelligence agents in Khost two weeks back, or to the impending arrival of the new waves of troops? Seven western troops were killed the yesterday, however, so the one sure thing we can say is that this foe has not been cowed by anything the US has done yet.

The Yemen discussion, shall we call it, is rife with that “those guys are crazy” undertone that gets into a lot of coverage of foreign policy. Even when addressing the elements of a given situation–local politics, cultural traditions, strategic importance or lack thereof–you really can’t miss it. If only those Yemenis would get it together, it’s inferred. If only they–the Yemenis, the Pashtuns, the tribal or ethnic flavor of the month–would just be more like us, in the west, or in this country, where we’ve got things sorted out.

There’s no shortage of dysfunction “over there”–wherever that “there” is at a given moment–but I was glad to see over this past weekend a few pieces that asserted, in different ways, from different angles, that there may be more commonalities between us and them–whoever “them” is at a given moment–than is often recognized. The first, from a very interesting op-ed about intelligence gathering and the support given, or not given, to intelligence gatherers. Written by former spook Robert Grenier, it has some sections, particularly the last few paragraphs, which seem overwrought in its defense of certain orders carried out by the CIA in the early years of the war on terror. The scenarios sketched in the first half, though, were captivating. But the part that made me smile was dropped in about halfway through: “Loyalty can take many forms, but when all is said and done, loyalty is essentially tribal. That is as true for us as it is for any Afghan.”

The tribes and tribalness of other lands is so often raised without recognition that we, in our way, are just as tribal. You see it in the cities and in the countryside, in business and in sports and in social circles and definitely, unquestionably, in politics. Not clearly as defined, obviously, but very present, and very important for understanding the group dynamics that drive policy and personal debates in this country and as we look overseas.

The other note was in Nicholas Kristof’s column “Religion and Women.” He writes:

Religions derive their power and popularity in part from the ethical compass they offer. So why do so many faiths help perpetuate something that most of us regard as profoundly unethical: the oppression of women? It is not that warlords in Congo cite Scripture to justify their mass rapes (although the last warlord I met there called himself a pastor and wore a button reading “rebels for Christ”). It’s not that brides are burned in India as part of a Hindu ritual. And there’s no verse in the Koran that instructs Afghan thugs to throw acid in the faces of girls who dare to go to school.

Yet these kinds of abuses — along with more banal injustices, like slapping a girlfriend or paying women less for their work — arise out of a social context in which women are, often, second-class citizens. That’s a context that religions have helped shape, and not pushed hard to change.

Again, if we’re thinking this is something that happens only among the “other”–most commonly Muslims, in this past decade–we’re fooling ourselves. It’s a question of orthodoxy, of fundamentalism, and of habits which exists in many forms, in many religions, and in secular circles as well. You can say it’s deeper-rooted in certain places, or that it manifests more often, more visibly, in certain places, but to pretend something so unfortunately elemental is the sole habit of one faith, or one people, is foolishness.

The story of the Jordanian doctor-turned-militant-turned-undercover-operative-turned-suicide-bomber continues to get more and more interesting as details, and things disguised as details, emerge. There is a fascinating personal story to be told about this Humam Khalil Abu-Mulal al-Balawi, hints of which are carried in what is known and not known so far–the fact, for instance, that his own family thought he was in the Palestinian Territories–and in the claims and counter-claims made in this country and in Jordan (to say nothing of claims made in statements attributed to al Qaeda leaders). There are many more stories that may or may not be told, and that may or may not be true, about the people al-Balawi killed in Khost last week, the CIA officers and contractors who reportedly thought they were on the verge of learning crucial information about the location of Ayman al-Zawahiri. There is also the story of the CIA’s response, which is yet to be written, of what connections will be found in al-Balawi’s trail, and what will happen if, say, he is linked to the Haqqani network. Joe Klein has a nice story about what this could mean for overseas intelligence gathering operations, particularly as it pertains to al Qaeda (“Suddenly, every aspect of the intelligence community’s work in Afghanistan is being called into question…” Worth reading).

It’s speculative, naturally, but the reasoning is sound, the analysis clear-eyed. In that vein, and because I wasn’t able or inclined to try to put together any kind of “people of 2009″-type list, I thought I’d engage in a little speculation of my own, some possibilities for People of 2010, or at least for the next few months. Sticking with Afghanistan, we’ve got the various Taliban factions who are likely planning their next moves, their strategy for when the weather warms (though the winter is less of a deterrent to fighting and plotting than it has been in the past). We will soon have those 30,000 troops that Obama pledged to the effort and, one hopes and prays, the civilian components that will accompany them to carry out essential non-military aspects of the counterinsurgency strategy being employed. A good report on the necessity of the latter, from the US Institute of Peace, is here.

Others? America’s un- and underemployed. It’s painfully divided and increasingly puerile and compromised Congress. The people working amid the worsening conflicts in southern Sudan, where more people were killed than were in Darfur. Iraq’s political leadership, which has elections coming up (as does Afghanistan, possibly, and Sri Lanka, too). The shrinking number of foreign correspondents being counted upon to provide actual information about all these places.

There are many other possibilities (feel free to suggest your own). At the top of the list, though, I’d put the Iranian protesters, the people who continue heading to the streets by day and to the rooftops by night to voice their displeasure with the country’s boorish and repressive theocratic regime. Analysis aside (I’ll attempt some shortly), these people are remarkable. The odds and the risks are immense, but they have kept at it. There are so many ways to be distracted nowadays, to lose the impetus for action, but they have used these tools (online, mainly) to augment their efforts rather than as an alternative to them. There are clearly people among their number who have found a deep and abiding sense of purpose and decided that this moment, and what they do next, truly matters. There are ways they could be comfortable, that they could get along just fine, even with the goons they have making their laws. But they have decided that getting along isn’t good enough, that they want change, and they’ve found the resolve, and enough support–overt and, no doubt, covert–to march another day.

There will be more opportunities as well. In the coming weeks, writes Robin Wright, “the regime’s most urgent goal is to prevent opposition activists from turning next month’s 11-day celebration marking the Shah’s ouster in 1979 into a counterrevolution against his successors.” The regime learns, too, and is employing it’s own techno-military-torture intimidation tactics, but they are also showing signs (via Andrew Sullivan) that they are responding the volume and the persistence of the outrage, that they’re being made accountable to some degree. To be sure, they are still saying some scary things. There’s no guaranteeing the outcome for the demonstrators, who are gathering not only in Tehran but in several other cities as well. It matters, though. Of that there is no question. The outcome–or the evolution of this, I might say, since there’s no guarantee of a concrete outcome any time soon–matters to them, of course, but it also matters to the US and American policy towards Iran, to large swathes of the Iraqi population, to Israel and its planners (keeping the trigger pullers in Tel Aviv at bay is one of the great challenges of the coming year), and to people like the Burmese, who are being told they’ll get an election in the coming year as well, and have every reason to believe that they are, again, being lied to, by a venal coterie of rulers who care little, if at all, about the welfare of their own people. An inspiration, possible inspiration, and possible model to many, these Iranians could well be writing history before our eyes.

A place to watch over the next week, for reasons laid out by the LA Times’ invaluable Borzou Daragahi, is Iran.

Ashura, the most emotionally charged religious holiday on the Iranian calendar, is almost here. Wearing green and black, the Shiite faithful will beat themselves in ritual self-flagellation Sunday and perform elaborate passion plays reenacting the doomed 7th century battle of Imam Hussein, a grandson of the prophet Muhammad, to retain the throne of Islam. “Ya Hussein!” the faithful will chant. And this year, the chant will have an echo: “Ya Hossein! Mir-Hossein!”

The next few days could be tempestuous, explosive, historical. Could be none of the above, but the elements are all in place, apparently the planning as well, for something big. The preamble is already underway:

Police officers and militia forces clashed with demonstrators in central Tehran all day Saturday and then again in northern Tehran in the evening, where the government forces shut down a speech by former President Mohammad Khatami, a reformist leader. The demonstrators, who defied an official ban and turned a Shiite mourning ceremony into a protest, underlined the government’s inability to suppress the opposition despite the use of violence. Protests have continued since a disputed presidential election in June, and one of the largest was expected on Sunday.

Back to Daragahi:

“We are planning to protest on Ashura,” a twenty-something blacksmith said, his hands and face covered with soot outside his shop in Narmak, the east Tehran neighborhood were Ahmadinejad grew up. “They will try to stop us and arrest us,” he said. “But we’re not just one or two people they can pull out. We’re many.”

Man, I tried. I resolved to find and focus on good news stories. ‘Tis the season, and all that. I’d start by pointing out a story about Banda Aceh in westernmost Indonesia, sight of vicious battles between rebels and government forces through the 1990s and the early years of this decade, sight of some of the worst damage done by the 2004 tsunami, and, come to think of it, the first conflict area I ever went to, back in 2001. I was just dipping a toe into the place, but I was pretty nervous back then nonetheless. And I was very heartened the other day to read about the town and region’s recovery and the relative stability it now enjoys. Not perfect, of course. The scars of war and loss remain, but something quite unlike what many people, myself included, would have thought possible.

And then I was going to point to another story, about a guy called Jorge Munoz, a 44 year-old born in Colombia and now living in Queens, in New York City. Every night–every single night–Munoz collects leftovers from bakeries, supporters, other food providers, and wherever else he can find it, and hands it out to homeless and hungry men and women. He’s not a wealthy man; he works as school bus driver. But, the story says, “In five years, he has served 70,000 meals, he reckons, with no financial aid from the city or anyone else.”

And then there would be some stirring words about dedication, about selflessness, about what it takes for people and places to heal, and then we’d wish you a merry Christmas. That was the plan. Heck, there was even word of a poll showing that people still, believe it or not, read newspapers (thanks, Rosanna).

But I couldn’t stop myself from reading on. Just couldn’t. So along with Aceh’s achievements, and Munoz’ remarkable temerity, there’s news that graft and theft continue to plague Sri Lanka’s attempts to recover from that same tsunami. And there’s the truly shocking story out of Mexico, about the aftermath of the raid that killed drug lord Arturo Beltran Leyva. One of Mexico’s Marines was also killed during the raid. The state tried to recognize him, and…

“Killed during a raid that ended the life of a notorious drug lord, the marine was buried a hero, ushered to his grave by an honor guard of commandos in camouflage, his mother awarded a folded flag. Hours later, the grieving mother, the marine’s sister, his brother and an aunt were mowed down by gunmen in a revenge attack that sent a chilling message to the Mexican military combating drug traffickers.”

Wow. That’s as cold-blooded as it gets. And that stuff makes a deep impression, too, no matter the season. So, despite my best efforts to focus on the positive, the noble, the inspiring, it’s impossible to ignore the base, the gut-wrenching, the craven and violent. There can never just be one or the other. And they don’t cancel each out. Rather, they exist together, simultaneously, always. Best I can say, I think, is that knowing how awful and selfish and brutal people can be makes people like Munoz, and episodes like the dawn of better days in Aceh, all the more remarkable.