Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 215 Arab League Conference

Several days later, the Arab League meeting was held again in Riyadh.

Since the Yom Kippur War, Shuangzhi had gradually replaced Masr as the leader of the Arab League. After the Allied victory and the liberation of Damascus, this leadership position was now undisputed.

"Closer, even closer... Yes! Keep smiling!"

Outside the magnificent council chamber of the royal palace, Joseph, Lu Lin's "good brother," stood shoulder to shoulder with Lu Lin, their smiles brighter than the Arabian Peninsula sun.

Behind them was a huge banner that read: "A warm welcome to our Arab brothers, let's join hands to create a glorious victory!"

It's incredibly tacky.

"Your Excellency Marshal, please relax your shoulders a bit," the royal cameraman said solicitously as he adjusted the camera.

Lu Lin's smile remained unchanged, but he was already cursing inwardly.

After standing stiffly for several hours, his shoulders were practically ready to be used as crowbars.

What was originally thought to be an easy reception task turned into a large-scale "fan meeting".

Looking at the long line of officers from various countries still waiting behind him, he felt that he was probably going to die here today.

Surrounding the equally popular Bandar and other dual-command generals were a number of foreign officers who came to exchange combat experience.

Just as Lu Lin took a deep breath, preparing to greet the next person for a photo, Fahd stepped forward and announced loudly, "Gentlemen! His Excellency the Marshal shares a deep bond with every one of his brothers. However, time is limited, so I propose a group photo of all the Arab soldiers!"

By this time, the main national leaders had already finished their individual group photos, and the officers behind them, upon hearing this, readily stepped forward. Seeing this, the others also stopped queuing, and the scene quickly transformed into a joyful group photo session.

Lu Lin gave Fahd a barely perceptible look of approval, and the latter quietly returned a thumbs-up.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, everyone quickly found their seats. Lu Lin sat in the center of the first row, with Bandar to his left and behind him a dense crowd of Arab officers in various uniforms, each face beaming with the joy and pride of victory.

"Look at me!" the photographer shouted, then pressed the shutter, capturing this historic moment.

After the group photo was taken, the crowd reluctantly dispersed.

Just as Lu Lin shook hands with several Surya officers to say goodbye, he saw a man of medium build, with brown skin, and wearing an overly flashy military uniform walking towards him.

"Your Excellency Marshal"

Holy crap, what?

Lu Lin examined the person closely and found that their facial features were closer to those of an Arab, suggesting they were a Sudanese Arab.

"Please allow me to introduce myself," the man said eagerly. "I am Jafar Khalid, the new president of Nubia, Your Excellency Marshal. I have always adhered to the principles of non-recognition, non-negotiation, and non-compromise regarding Zion! Nubia will always be the most steadfast supporter of the Arab cause!"

Oh? This is Nimeiri?

Lu Lin raised an eyebrow in his mind.

Considering the timeline, he understood why he hadn't been particularly impressed by this guy at the last pre-war meeting—he wasn't the leader of Nubia back then.

Lu Lin deliberately asked with a hint of inquiry, "Since everyone is now united in fighting against foreign enemies, why would your country choose to change its leader at this time?"

Jafar Khalid immediately replied solemnly, “Your Excellency Marshal, this reform in Nubia is purely for the sake of Nubia’s own future! Our north and south have been divided for a long time, and our people are impoverished. Only by establishing a strong and unified central government can we revitalize the economy, consolidate national strength, and thus better contribute all our efforts to the common cause of the Arab world!”

Hearing this high-sounding rhetoric, Lu Lin, a transmigrator, scoffed inwardly.

He knew very well that the man before him was another strongman deeply influenced by "Arab socialism".

In the original timeline, this guy secretly traded weapons with Zion and later tacitly approved "Operation Moses," which involved transferring Jews through Nubia, and received huge sums of money in return.

Lu Lin couldn't be sure whether "Jaffar" would repeat the same mistakes in this timeline that he had disrupted.

But he had already mentally labeled the other person as someone who "requires close attention".

He didn't want to be betrayed.

"Your Highness, His Majesty the King needs your assistance," the head of the palace guards approached Lu Lin and said respectfully in a low voice.

"I see."

Lu Lin nodded slightly to Jafar: "The meeting is about to begin, so I'll take my leave first."

"Please go ahead," Jafar said, taking his leave.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Gentlemen, we are gathered here today."

Inside the magnificent conference hall, King Mohammed's voice, steady and powerful, echoed beneath the luxurious dome.

Sitting in the deputy position is Prince Durrah, who is also the current Crown Prince of Shuangzhi.

Lu Lin sat in the third seat on Shuangzhi's side, wearing a crisp marshal's uniform, the stars on his epaulets shining brightly under the lights.

The first half of the meeting was nothing new, mainly revolving around "past victories and achievements" and "looks to the future".

"This isn't a meeting, it's clearly a victory celebration."

Representatives from various countries took turns to the stage, praising this hard-won victory—completely different from the past "Six-Day War" or "Yom Kippur War," this was a thorough and indisputable Arab victory.

Arab countries not only regained large swathes of lost territory, but also reclaimed the dignity they had lost in front of the world.

The atmosphere reached its climax when the coalition command announced the Allied casualty figures.

Representatives from various countries rushed to their feet to pledge their support, with those having money contributing funds and those having the means contributing their labor.

"Lirvia will send an additional air column and two armored brigades to fully support the common cause of the Arabs!" Joseph was the first to stand up and express his opinion.

Immediately afterward, Commander Hafez of Surria stood up, his voice loud and firm: "Surria will establish five new armored divisions, forming a completely new field army. Command of this army will be handed over to the Allied Command!"

These words caused an uproar among the Arab countries present.

The strength of five armored divisions is almost equal to the total strength of all other allied forces!

Even more shockingly, Surya, who had always valued independent command, completely handed over military power to Amir, who was in charge of the two-man army.

The underlying political signals made everyone present ponder the future of diplomatic relations.

The temperature seems to be rising a bit too fast!

Lu Lin didn't take it to heart, after all, Commander Hafez had previously made it clear to him in private that Surria would unconditionally support him in completely defeating Zion.

Other Gulf Arab states, such as the oil-producing countries of Corvette and Trusir, have indicated they will strongly support the reconstruction of Damascus.

As the host, King Mohammed unveiled an even grander blueprint: "Shuangzhi will provide allies with comprehensive support in the military, economic, and industrial fields."

He also emphasized Sumer: "We will launch the 'Euphrates Revitalization Plan,' establishing three large industrial zones in Sumer, providing numerous jobs, and investing in the construction of a road network spanning the entire region, allowing Sumerian agricultural products and textiles to freely enter the entire Arab market. This plan has already been initially realized."

Ahmed, attending the meeting for the first time, sat below, listening intently to the speech that would change the fate of Sumer.

Lu Lin also saw the Phoenician president, Pierre, in the crowd. To his surprise, Pierre now had a full head of white hair.

When they made eye contact, Lu Lin nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

As the heated atmosphere gradually subsided, the meeting finally touched upon the core issue that could not be avoided—the final battle for Zion.

Muhammad nodded to Lu Lin.

Lu Lin took a deep breath and surveyed the room: "I know what you are worried about. Zion has mobilized the entire nation, gathering an army of 600,000. They are gambling, gambling that we dare not wage a full-scale war." He paused deliberately, letting the silence fill the room, then suddenly raised his voice:

"But I ask you—are we afraid of total war?!"

"Don't be afraid!!"

“Don’t be afraid!!!”

The generals of Lirvia and Hashim responded in unison.

Like a wildfire, thunderous shouts instantly swept through the entire conference hall, causing the crystal chandelier to tremble slightly.

Amidst this jubilant uproar, no one doubted that the Arabs would triumph once again.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

As the clamor of the public meeting among Arab countries gradually subsided, Lu Lin was led by his attendant to a secluded reception room deep within the palace.

Palace guards pushed open the heavy doors, revealing a familiar face under the lights, yet one that was not present at today's Arab League meeting—President Masr Dulewa.

Upon seeing Lu Lin enter, Duleva immediately stood up, and the two shook hands politely.

The former deputy to Ferdinand, now the top leader of Maasr, looked undeniably weary.

Successive war defeats, a collapsing economy, and political compromises with Zion have caused this once-powerful Middle Eastern nation to fall from grace, pushing Dureva's political career to the brink of collapse.

“Your Excellency Marshal, I have come here today hoping to secure an opportunity for Masr,” Duleva said.

"Masr wants to rejoin the Arab League?" Lu Lin sat down opposite him.

Dullwa admitted, "When the heart of a country is threatened by the enemy's dagger, I think even other Arab countries would make the same choice as us—to live an ugly life, even if it means compromising with the enemy."

Dulleva continued, "And our previous actions have precisely proven that Masr has never truly abandoned the Arab cause."

He was referring to the 301st Armored Division led by Aronmes, which was preparing to move from Port Said to the front lines but unexpectedly encountered Zion's forces, resulting in a fierce battle at Nukoshir.

The 301st Division suffered more than half its losses, its commander Aronmes was killed in action, and the division headquarters was almost completely wiped out.

But their sacrifice saved the Arab allied forces' logistics line from a deadly surprise attack.

Lu Lin remained silent for a moment. He knew perfectly well why Duleva was so eager to have Masr rejoin the Arab League.

Maasr's economy has now reached a breaking point, with the government heavily indebted and people struggling to make ends meet. Yet, despite this, Maasr's population growth rate is increasing year by year, further exacerbating social pressures.

Masr now desperately needs external economic subsidies, trade and foreign exchange to alleviate the pressure, and of course, to regain control of the Suez Canal.

Therefore, from any perspective, rejoining the increasingly powerful Arab League is the only way for Dullwa to save his regime.

"I do not deny that Masr's soldiers shed blood for the Arab cause."

Lu Lin's eyes were calm: "But you must also understand, Your Excellency President Duleva, the Arab League is not a hotel, not a place where you can come and go as you please."

Despite the great achievements of Aronmes's troops, Masr has not publicly acknowledged his involvement in the fighting. In Dureva's view, since the Allies recaptured the Golan Heights rather than the Sinai Peninsula, this ambiguous stance is understandable in order to avoid Zion's retaliation.

But in Lu Lin's eyes, this was undoubtedly a sign of indecisiveness.

“But this time we proved our sincerity!” Duleva leaned forward. “General Aronmes and his soldiers proved it with their lives!”

Lu Lin stood up, his voice carrying an undeniable authority: "It is precisely because of soldiers like Aaronmes—who earned my respect through his sacrifice and proved to me that Marsellus at least has some backbone, a warrior who dares to fight Zion to the last moment—that I am willing to sit here and give you a chance!"

He looked down at Dullwa, the stars on his epaulets gleaming coldly: "If you want to take back the Sinai Peninsula and regain the respect of your Arab brothers, prove it with your actions. Don't betray the blood shed by your most loyal warriors."

Lu Lin's gaze locked onto his opponent like a hawk's, each word carrying immense weight: "Remember, this is your last chance."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

As Lu Lin and Yagubu walked out of the room, the head of the palace guards waiting in the corridor immediately came forward to greet them.

Lu Lin sighed softly: "Anything else?"

The head of the palace guard bowed: "Mr. Kozone of Al-Iraq is waiting in the East Hall."

Lu Lin nodded slightly, indicating that he would lead the way.

Pushing open the door to the study on the east side, a familiar figure was standing by the window.

Hearing the door open, Cozonne turned around, and at that moment he was already a perfect match for the image of the "great dictator" in Lu Lin's memory.

Kozonie extended his hand to him: "I remember the last time we met was two years ago, in Sergiade. Time flies."

Lu Lin gazed at the new leader of Al-Iraq, who was now dressed in a well-tailored suit and exuded the demeanor of a statesman.

Just last year, a bloodless coup also occurred within Al-Ilag, where Kozonie overthrew Jassim Khan, the former leader of the Ba'ath Party, and seized power.

The two shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries.

Kozone continued, "I acknowledge Your Highness's exceptional command of the war effort, but I believe your handling of alliances is still inadequate. While defeating Zion is our primary objective, Al-Iraq deserves respect."

Lu Lin did not respond immediately, but waited quietly for the other party to continue.

“I know that Major General Jassim made an irreparable mistake, but I believe you had a better option at the time.”

Kozone continued to press, "And as far as I know, this isn't the first time. You also executed our Deputy Secretary-General during the counter-attacking campaign in Ghanam..."

"I'm glad you didn't bring this up at the joint meeting just now."

Lu Lin raised his hand to interrupt him, his voice calm and unwavering, "But what do you want to say, Secretary General? Just say it directly."

Kozonie nodded: "In the upcoming war, Al-Iraq wants to retain its own command structure. We will form five divisions to operate independently on the eastern front. Of course, we will still be allies, but we will not need unified command."

“Okay,” Lu Lin said without getting angry, but instead asked, “But you should also know that Jassim’s recklessness last time almost ruined the efforts of the entire Allied forces.”

"But this time is different,"

Kozone appeared extremely confident, his hands crossed on his knees: "We have hired military advisors from Ant, who will directly command Al-Ilag's army, and its size will be no less than that of Surria!"

“Ant?” Lu Lin keenly caught this key word.

Please keep this a secret.

Kozone said this, but his expression didn't seem to care: "Even though he's just a military advisor, it'll still be troublesome if word gets out."

A lot of thoughts flashed through Lu Lin's mind in an instant.

To check and balance the United States;
To prevent Shuangzhi from monopolizing military power;

To prevent Arab countries from jointly controlling oil prices.
Is Ant preparing to personally support Al-Irag?
"This matter requires careful consideration, and I will not give you an answer immediately."

Lu Lin carefully considered his words, "But Shuangzhi will respect the choices of all Arab allies."

Even Lu Lin himself was taken aback when he said those words.

He suddenly realized that, in Al-Iraq's view, the so-called "respect" of the Shuangzhi had never included them—from the independence of Sumer to the two executions of each other's high-ranking officials, even though he had helped them quell the Kurds in the north, these grievances had become a tangled mess.

Now Ant has backing them up.

However, Kozonie simply smiled and extended his hand: "Thank you for your understanding. I believe that Al-Iraq will prove his worth in the new order of battle."

(End of this chapter)