The waiting room outside the hepatology clinic at Rajagiri Hospital in Kochi is suspended between hope and despair.

One man stares silently at the floor, weakened by advanced liver disease and in urgent need of treatment. Nearby, another family clutches a folder of old medical reports, hoping the hospital can still save their loved one.

Inside, Dr Cyriac Abby Philips is unhurried.

A patient sits across from him. Philips leans forward, asks a question, then falls silent. He listens – really listens. When he speaks again, his assessment is candid but delivered with compassion. He doesn’t simply tell the family what comes next; he carefully walks them through the road ahead.

I spent two days in his clinic in the southern Indian state of Kerala expecting to find a very different man.

Philips is one of India’s best-known – and most polarising – doctors online: admired by supporters as a fearless champion of evidence-based medicine, reviled by critics as an attention-seeking provocateur.

On X, where more than 300,000 people follow him as the “Liver Doc”, he has called homeopathy “false medicine”, labelled alternative practitioners quacks and told critics their brains were “for rent”. Alternative practitioners accuse him of not understanding the Indian system and attacking them unfairly.

His feed is packed with public health information, but also with bitter feuds – including with celebrities – conducted in a style many describe as rude.

India’s Ayush Ministry – the federal body overseeing traditional medicine – has held two formal committee meetings just to discuss him. A police inspector once travelled for two days by train from the northern state of Uttar Pradesh to question him over a social media post. In six years, Philips has faced 16 legal cases, some of which are still ongoing.

Yet the man behind the social media persona seemed markedly different in person.

During our conversation, he came across as measured and soft-spoken. Long-term patients, colleagues and doctors who know him also described him in similar terms: polite, unassuming and courteous.

“It’s an adopted persona,” he says, without apology. “They hate me. But they cannot invalidate the information I give.”

“Sometimes you must make loud noises to be heard. I specially go after trolls, so they cannot deviate the attention from the message I am trying to give. If people think I’m rude or ill-tempered, even though it isn’t true, I’m willing to pay that price.”

JEDDAH: As McLaren’s Oscar Piastri lifted the winner’s trophy on Sunday night, the Saudi Arabia Grand Prix marked a milestone that goes far beyond the checkered flag.

With its fifth edition concluded, Jeddah is now not just another Grand Prix for racing fans; it is the world’s fastest and second-longest street circuit in Formula 1 history.

In just five years, the Kingdom has turned its coastal circuit into one of the most talked-about stops on the Formula 1 calendar.                                                                

This anniversary is not just a celebration of fast cars and thrilling races, but also a testament to the Kingdom’s pursuit of global sports recognition.

As the roar of engines faded into silence and the grandstands emptied, the importance of this race in the Kingdom’s sporting history is just beginning to sink in.

Few know the backstory and how a series of off-track moves, quiet negotiations, and long-term ambitions brought the sport onto Saudi Arabia’s soil.

Before the first engine revved up in 2021, the wheels had already been set in motion.

Secret push behind the Grand Prix

Long before the first roar of Formula 1 cars echoed along Jeddah’s Red Sea coast, the idea of bringing the world’s fastest sport to Saudi Arabia was quietly gaining traction in various boardrooms in Riyadh.

It was not just about motorsport, it was a calculated move tied to Vision 2030: to diversify the Kingdom’s economy, elevate its global image, and position Saudi Arabia as a serious player in international sports.

The deal was not public at first. Whispers began to be heard in early 2018, shortly after Saudi Arabia secured rights to host the all-electric Formula E in Diriyah.

That event was seen as a trial, a soft launch into global motorsport. Behind the scenes, the Saudi Automobile and Motorcycle Federation and the Ministry of Sport began mapping a larger ambition: securing Formula 1.

The official announcement came in November 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic, a bold move that stunned even some insiders in the racing world.

Critics questioned the timing, but for the Kingdom, this was the perfect moment.

Strategic move to choose Jeddah

The decision to host the race in Jeddah — and not the capital — raised eyebrows. But the logic was simple. Jeddah, a historical port, was undergoing a visual transformation.

Placing the circuit along the Corniche, with the glinting Red Sea as a backdrop, created a visual spectacle few other Formula 1 circuits could match.

But there was more at play. Jeddah is Saudi Arabia’s beating commercial heart, a cosmopolitan city and symbol of the new Saudi Arabia identity.

The Kingdom was not just launching a race, it was rebranding itself to the world, and Jeddah became the face of that campaign.

And then came the design: the fastest street circuit in Formula 1 history.

Designed by Carsten Tilke, son of renowned circuit designer Hermann Tilke, Jeddah featured 27 turns and blisteringly high-speed straights, challenging drivers in ways no other urban race ever had.

5 years of speed, stats, surprises, standout moments

Since its debut in December 2021, the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix has carved out its own identity.

Fastest street race: It is one of the quickest on the calendar, with cars averaging over 250 kph. In 2021, Lewis Hamilton clocked the fastest average qualifying lap on the circuit.

Second-longest: At  6,174 km, it is one of the longest circuits in the world.

Most turns at 27: Most Grand Prix tracks have 14 to 20, but Jeddah has 27 corners, with sweeping bends and blind apexes, making it technically demanding.

Built in under eight months: It was designed and constructed in less than a year, an incredible feat for a Grade 1 FIA-approved circuit. Over 30,000 tons of asphalt, 600,000 work hours, and thousands of workers were involved.

Historic debuts: The 2021 race was the first Grand Prix in Saudi Arabia, marking the Kingdom as the 34th country to host a Formula 1 contest.

Dramatic finishes: From the Max Verstappen-Hamilton showdown in 2021 to chaotic safety-car dramas and nail-biting late-race restarts, Jeddah’s circuit never delivered a dull contest.

Global spotlight: Over 140,000 fans attended the race weekend in 2023, with millions more watching worldwide.

But perhaps the most surprising statistic is that it has become one of the top-five most-watched races globally, according to F1 media tracking.

Looking ahead, the futuristic Qiddiya circuit is on the horizon. The new entertainment and tourism city is set to become home to one of the most advanced motorsport facilities in the region.

It is a project promising to blend adrenaline, innovation, and entertainment in a way the sport has never seen before.

The extended Assad family treated Syria as their own personal possession, enriching themselves and buying trust with their followers at the expense of Syrians who could be thrown into jail or killed if they stepped out of line, or even if they didn’t.

A fighter called Ahmed, who had taken up arms against the regime in 2011, survived the rebel defeat in Damascus, and fought his way back from Idlib with the rebels of Hayat Tahrir al Sham was inspecting the way the Assads lived with his three brothers, all rebel fighters.

“People were living in hell and he was in his palace,” Ahmed said calmly.

“He didn’t care about what they were going through. He made them live in fear, hunger and humiliation. Even after we entered Damascus people would only whisper to us, because they were still afraid.”

I found the marble guesthouse, and walked through the walnut-panelled, marble-floored library where I had interviewed Assad when the regime was fighting for survival in February 2015.

The highlight of the interview were his denials that his forces were killing civilians. He even tried to joke about it.

Now, rebel fighters were on the door and patrolling the corridors. Some of the books had fallen off the library shelves, but the building was intact.

I walked across to an ante room where Assad would grant 10 or 15 minutes of private conversation before the interview.

He was unfailingly polite, even solicitous, enquiring about my family, and the journey to Syria.

Bashar al-Assad’s slightly awkward demeanour made some western observers believe he was a lightweight who might bend to pressure.

In private I found him self-confident to the point of arrogance, convinced he was the all-knowing spider at the heart of the Middle East web, tracking his enemies’ malign intentions and ready to strike.

His father Hafez al-Assad was a kingpin of the Middle East. He was a ruthless man who built the police state that lasted for over fifty years, using fear, guile and a willingness to destroy any threat to impose stability on Syria, a country that had been a byword for violent changes of government until he seized sole power in 1970.

I had the impression that Bashar wanted to be his father’s son, perhaps even to outdo him.

He killed many more Syrians than Hafez and broke the country to try to save the regime.

But Bashar’s stubbornness, refusal to reform or negotiate and his willingness to kill sealed his fate and condemned him to a last terrified drive to the airport with his wife and children on their last flight out of Syria to Moscow.

Two of the planes struck the twin skyscrapers of the World Trade Center in Manhattan’s financial district, while another was flown into the US military headquarters at the Pentagon outside Washington, DC. The fourth aircraft crashed into a field in Pennsylvania after passengers wrested back control from the hijackers.

Among those killed were 441 first responders, the greatest loss of emergency responders on a single day in the country’s history. Thousands more were injured, and many still suffer from chronic illnesses, including respiratory diseases, mental health issues and cancer.

“Today my thoughts are with everyone who lost loved ones on 9/11 and with all the people of New York City,” Secretary-General António Guterres said in a post on X, formerly Twitter.

Victims await justice

Ben Saul, Special Rapporteur on counterterrorism and human rights, also paid tribute to the victims, who came from more than 90 countries, their families and loved ones.  

He welcomed US efforts to support the survivors, but emphasised that justice remained elusive for many.  

“The unfathomable violence on 9/11 against ordinary people going about their daily lives was a crime against humanity, but sadly, 23 years later, the victims remain starved of justice,” he said.

Mr. Saul noted that unresolved issues, including prolonged detentions and limited accountability, continue to impact victims and detainees alike, underscoring the need for the US to fully align its counterterrorism policies with international human rights standards.

He urged the US authorities to fully implement the recommendations of his predecessor, Fionnuala D. Ní Aoláin, after her technical visit to the United States and the Guantánamo Detention Facility in Cuba in 2023.

Ms. Ní Aoláin made specific recommendations and concluded that the US Government must ensure accountability for all international law violations and victims of terrorism and counter-terrorism.

Independent experts

Appointed by the Geneva-based Human Rights Council, Special Rapporteurs are mandated to monitor and report on human rights situation in country or thematic situations.  

They serve in their individual capacity, independent of the United Nations. The mandate holders are not UN staff and do not draw a salary for their work.