Jessie Kong: Every year, SJEC puts on a week-long, entirely student-run, exchange program for 20-25 visiting Japanese students from Keio, Doshisha, and Kyoto Universities. Through this programming, we strive to provide authentic insights into Stanford academics, extracurriculars, and lifestyle by having the Japanese students join our lives and develop bonding experiences. 

As one of the co-presidents of SJEC this year, my work has centered around coordinating the entire team of Stanford officers, delegating tasks between teams, communicating with and preparing the Japanese students, and facilitating activities during the conference.

Through leading SJEC this year, I have realized the importance of dedication and commitment when planning these activities. My previous years in SJEC leading the social team has also shown me how to plan events from start to finish in an efficient way that leverages the capabilities of everyone on the team while focusing on the experience for the Japanese students. I think being able to put the group's interest above my own was also a good skill I learned while in the co-president position.

Socially, I have been able to build connections both for myself and other Stanford students with the Japanese student community. Starting with SJEC, I was able to meet and take care of visiting Japanese students at Stanford, and this effort was reciprocated when I went to study abroad through the BOSP Kyoto program. Being able to feel the reciprocity of my efforts in SJEC only makes me more motivated to continue working in SJEC to create a good experience for more Japanese students who visit in the future.
 

Yifei Cheng: The main event from our organization this year is the FACES annual summit that took place in January 2025. We invited 40 college students from Chinese and American universities to engage in dialogue about US-China relations on Stanford campus. As the president of FACES, I was involved in candidate selection and planning the summit schedule. I also took the initiative to organize the summit field trip at the Angel Island Immigration Facility. 

Through the lecture of Professor Gordon H. Chang on the persecution of Chinese scientists during the McCarthy Era, I learned about the repeated interlocks between politics and academia in the US, which has significant contemporary repercussions with the current administration's restrictions of student visas and immigration process. 

The FACES summit also enhanced my understanding of diplomacy on a personal level. This experience taught me that cultural exchange isn’t about reaching agreement—it’s about creating a shared space where different truths can coexist. I learned to listen across differences, become comfortable with discomfort, and see the value in ambiguity. These lessons have reshaped how I engage in conversations not only about geopolitics, but also about identity, equity, and belonging more broadly.

I gained concrete organizational skills with managing timelines, delegating tasks, and staying calm when things went wrong—like when the hotel rooming list gets wrong and messy. I also learned that leadership is less about control and more about creating the conditions for others to grow. I facilitated the daily reflection session during the summit. As the discussion facilitator, I found it rewarding to moderate discussions where sometimes disagreements arise. I think this is a valuable skill for my academic and professional development. 
 

Aimen Ejaz and Luv Jawahrani: This year, in its inaugural term, the Stanford Indo-Pak Dosti Forum (SIPDF)achieved what many said was impossible: bringing together Indians and Pakistanis in the same room – voluntarily – twice a week.

In the fall, we launched INTNL REL 47SI: Bridging the Divide, a student-initiated course focused on the political and economic dimensions of India-Pakistan relations. The class brought together prominent individuals concerned about peace-building, ranging from former Indian and Pakistani ambassadors who’d been involved in negotiating peace to professors from the Stanford Graduate School of Business (GSB), to research fellows at the Hoover Institute and the Center for International Security and Cooperation (CISAC), and veteran journalists who have covered the subcontinent for decades.

In spring, we co-taught GLOBAL 47SI: Building Bridges—a course that spotlights cross-border entrepreneurship as a tool for soft diplomacy. We invited legendary South Asian entrepreneurs and venture capitalists from both sides of the border: Mamoon Hamid (Managing Director at Kleiner Perkins), Samir Kaul (Managing Director at Khosla Ventures), Amit Patel (Managing Director at Owl Ventures), Bilal Zuberi (Partner at Lux Capital), and Anand Swaminathan (Senior Partner at McKinsey), among others. The goal? To explore how venture-building, innovation, and chai-fueled resilience can outpace political gridlock.

Academically, co-leading our student-led initiative taught us more than any textbook ever could, mostly because we had to build the syllabus ourselves. And we didn’t just co-lead — we co-dreamed and co-hustled, getting the syllabi approved by multiple departments and cold-emailing, even chasing down, speakers from across the U.S.

In designing INTNL REL 47SI: Bridging the Divide, we dove headfirst into the complexities of India-Pakistan political and economic relations. But we didn’t stop at reading IR theory. We debated it with the very diplomats and policymakers who once shaped those theories in real time. Every week became a crash course in postcolonial statecraft, regional security, and the surprisingly human side of high diplomacy.

Then came GLOBAL 47SI: Building Bridges, where we shifted from conflict to collaboration, exploring how entrepreneurship can serve as a tool of soft power. Through case studies, guest lectures, and our own classroom debates, we began asking whether a startup pitch can accomplish  what politicians can't. What happens when innovation moves faster than diplomacy? And what does it mean when the biggest South Asian venture capitalist in the world funds a startup founded by someone from the "other" side?

More than anything, we learned how to turn theory into action. Whether it was teaching concepts like diaspora diplomacy or moderating discussions between venture capitalists and undergrads, we were constantly translating complex ideas into real-world conversations. We didn’t just learn. We taught, we built, and we questioned everything along the way.

Culturally and socially, our student-led initiative felt less like organizing a class and more like hosting weekly peace talks, with chai and biryani. We came in thinking we were building a curriculum; we ended up navigating generations of silence, suspicion, and identity.

We learned that Partition isn’t just a historical event–it’s a living memory passed down through stories and subconscious hesitation. It’s in the way some students avoid eye contact when the topic turns political, or how others lower their voices when mentioning where their family is really from. But we also learned that these barriers can soften when people feel safe enough to speak, and laugh, together.

We watched students from India and Pakistan, often meeting for the first time, begin to open up. Conversations that started stiffly turned into long debates, jokes, shared Desi Spotify playlists, and sometimes even plans to visit each other’s cities, if our countries ever allow it. We learned that vulnerability—especially in a region taught to fear it—is a radical act. And that our generation is more ready than we think to rewrite the script we inherited.

There were moments when we questioned whether this initiative was worth it. When we received backlash online for platforming certain voices. When a class discussion got tense and uncomfortable. When friends warned us that this was “too political,” “too idealistic,” “too risky.” And we didn’t always have the perfect response.

But leadership, we realized, isn’t about always being right. It’s about being rooted in a vision that peace isn’t naïve — it’s necessary. That bridging divides isn’t weakness—it’s the only strength that can outlast hate. And when things fell apart — when a high-profile speaker pulled out at the last minute, or a student pushed back hard in class — we didn’t pivot away from our mission. We dug deeper. We turned cancellations into teachable moments. We turned criticism into conversation. Most importantly, we learned to trust ourselves and to trust that our generation doesn’t have to inherit the silence, the suspicion, and the separation.

Haddad emphasized that while many Syrians welcomed the end of Assad’s decades-long rule, the transition has raised serious concerns about the country’s future. Over time, Assad’s regime had become weakened by corruption, economic decline, and an inability to provide basic services. By late 2024, Syria’s military was fragmented, demoralized, and lacked external support. When HTS forces advanced into Aleppo, Homs, and Damascus, the Syrian Army largely dissolved without significant resistance.

A key factor in Assad’s downfall was the unexpected inaction of his traditional allies. Russia, Iran, and Hezbollah — longtime backers of the regime — did not intervene. Iran, facing domestic unrest and wary of escalating tensions with Israel and the U.S., chose to stay out. Hezbollah, weakened by clashes with Israel, lacked the resources to help. Russia, preoccupied elsewhere, had seemingly accepted Assad’s fate. The lack of resistance suggests that the transfer of power may have been prearranged rather than a purely military victory.

The most immediate turning point came when Israel launched airstrikes that destroyed over 80% of Syria’s remaining military infrastructure. Notably, neither HTS nor other international actors responded to these strikes, fueling speculation about behind-the-scenes agreements between Turkey, Qatar, and Western powers.

With Assad gone, Ahmad Al-Shara, the leader of HTS, was declared Syria’s new president. However, Haddad noted that this transition was neither democratic nor transparent. Al-Shara, who was previously affiliated with Jabhat Al-Nusra (Al-Qaeda’s Syrian branch), has rebranded himself as a moderate leader, promising inclusion and reform. However, Haddad pointed to major contradictions between his words and actions. The Syrian Army and security services have been dissolved, leading to concerns over instability. Government positions have been filled by HTS loyalists, excluding secular and nationalist opposition. Additionally, the new military structure requires recruits to undergo Sharia law training, raising fears about the ideological direction of the new government.

Syria’s transition is also deeply shaped by regional and international power struggles. Haddad stressed that HTS could not have taken power without Turkey’s approval. Turkey, focused on containing Kurdish forces in northern Syria, has played a key role in shaping post-Assad politics. Meanwhile, the U.S. recently announced its military withdrawal from Syria, leaving Kurdish forces vulnerable to both HTS control and Turkish expansion. Qatar and other Gulf states are increasingly involved in shaping Syria’s economy and political trajectory.

Looking ahead, Haddad identified five critical challenges that will determine Syria’s future:

1. Sovereignty and territorial integrity – Can Syria reclaim full control of its territory, or will it remain influenced by foreign actors?
2. Inclusion and transparency – Will the new government allow for democratic participation, or will HTS consolidate power?
3. Economic recovery – Sanctions and economic devastation pose serious obstacles to stability.
4. Rule of law and governance – No clear roadmap exists for elections, legal institutions, or constitutional reforms.
5. Rebuilding and refugee return – Over five million Syrian refugees remain abroad, with no structured plan for their safe return.

While Assad’s downfall marks a historic moment, Syria’s future remains uncertain and fragile. Many Syrians who once celebrated the regime’s collapse now fear that HTS’s dominance will not bring real change. The gap between promised reforms and actual governance policies has fueled skepticism.