Author: MIL-OSI Publisher

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andreas Krieg, Associate Professor, Defence Studies Department, King’s College London

Following the last round of talks between the United States and Iran in Islamabad, Iran’s foreign minister and negotiator Abbas Araghchi declared in a post on X on April 17 that the Strait of Hormuz was “completely open”. This came after he also signalled that his government could be flexible over the issue of nuclear enrichment as well as Iran’s support for its proxies in the region.

Then came an abrupt correction. Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr, a former commander in the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC) who was recently appointed as secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, is understood to have complained to the IRGC, submitting a report that criticised Araghchi for “deviation from the delegation’s mandate”.

The negotiating team was called back to Tehran. Araghchi was attacked by state-run media which said his post had “provided the best opportunity for Trump to go beyond reality, declare himself the winner of the war and celebrate victory.” And the Strait of Hormuz was declared closed.

This episode demonstrates the new reality in the Islamic Republic, where the IRGC increasingly calls the shots in all matters of statecraft and government. The rest of the state is a façade at most.

Over the six weeks of war, Iran’s former leadership has been decimated: the supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, was killed in a US strike on the first day of US and Israeli attacks. Many of his senior colleagues have also been killed. Iran is no longer best understood as a state with a powerful militia. It has become, more precisely, a powerful militia with a state – a political order with the IRGC at its core.

The other traditional centres of power – the government and the clergy – have effectively been relegated to mere front organisations. Amid the fog of war, even the new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, appears merely as a legitimising ornament. In any case, Khamenei is reported to have been severely injured in the attack that killed his father and is apparently taking no part in government.

So who is running the country? The answer points unmistakably to the IRGC and its leader, Ahmad Vahidi.

Guardians of the revolution

The IRGC was created after the 1979 revolution, precisely because Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and his allies did not trust the conventional state apparatus to defend the revolution. Over time it grew beyond its role as guardians of the revolution into an all-encompassing, all-channel network. It became a military, an intelligence service, an economic conglomerate and a regional expeditionary network. Its internal security force, the Basij, gave it an arm of mass social control inside Iran. The Quds force was set up to export the revolution across Iran’s proxies in Lebanon, Iraq, Syria, Yemen and beyond.

Far from destroying this architecture, sanctions deepened it. They led to the creation of front companies linked to the IRGC doing illicit deals and operating circuits of patronage that enriched those closest to the centre of power. What emerged was a parallel state that gradually outgrew the formal one.

The IRGC is organised as a network with a core and a periphery. Its central hub decides strategy. This is surrounded by a network of decentralised cells capable of operating with a high degree of autonomy. This is called Iran’s “mosaic defence doctrine”. And it was built to operate precisely the way it is now: to keep fighting amid attempts at decapitation and disruption.

A new leader emerges

After IRGC chief Mohammad Pakpour was killed on the opening day of the conflict, Ahmad Vahidi, a former interior minister and a founding member of the IRGC, has emerged to take his place. After being appointed in an emergency capacity after his predecessor was killed, he has consolidated effective control as the civilian presidency has been hollowed out.

With the new supreme leader apparently incapacitated and the clergy sidelined, Vahidi and his group of allies – IRGC commanders and security council hardliners such as Ali Akbar Ahmadian and Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr – have set the mandate and red lines for the ceasefire talks.

The IRGC’s red lines are clear: it will not surrender uranium enrichment altogether; it wants to preserve its missile program and the axis of resistance; it wants sanctions to lifted and access to Iranian assets overseas that are presently frozen. Room for negotiation only exists on technical details about enrichment levels, timelines for lifting sanctions or the language of any deals that are agreed.

In times of war, states tend to centralise as civilian institutions shrink. Hard men tend to rise, especially after many of the influential political pragmatists, such as Ali Larijani, the former secretary of the security council, were deliberately taken out by Israel.

The IRGC was not suddenly conjured by this war, but prepared by decades of institutional entrenchment, economic capture and delegated coercion. The IRGC’s military dictatorship in the making needed this war to consolidate its influence over competing nodes in the network – most importantly the clergy.

This has profound consequences for the negotiations. Instead of being straightforward bargaining between statesmen, Washington’s real estate moguls turned negotiators are speaking to Iranian counterparts who are on a short lead held by the IRGC. Progress in negotiations should not be judged by what Iran’s diplomats say in public, but by what the guard allows to be implemented in practice.

Trump and Israel’s failed decapitation strategy leaves a potent system in place that feels emboldened by the desperation in the White House to find a diplomatic off-ramp. To think that this war-hardened system of hardliners will capitulate is wishful thinking.

The past few days have made it clear that the IRGC is now a militia with a state using the civic and military institutions of the Islamic Republic as its outer skin. While there is room for negotiation to build a mutually acceptable deal, the US administration needs to be realistic about where the IRGC’s red lines are and what card it actually has to play against a resilient network with a very high threshold for pain.

Andreas Krieg does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Who is calling the shots in Iran? – https://theconversation.com/who-is-calling-the-shots-in-iran-281066

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Mark Rawlinson, Associate Professor History of Art, University of Nottingham

Marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war, Our Freedom: Then and Now is a nationwide photography project exploring how communities understand freedom.

The show opened at London’s Southbank Centre in April and is now touring the UK. This exhibition offers an alternative perspective to the idea that this is currently a nation divided. From the Highlands of Scotland to libraries in southwest England, it asks a simple yet powerful question: what did freedom mean in 1945, and what does it mean now?

The Socially Engaged Photography Network sent 22 photographers to work closely with community projects, ensuring the photographs were created in collaboration with participants. This approach is distinct from traditional photojournalism, which often speaks about rather than with the people photographed.

By spending time in places such as Maesteg Town Hall and libraries in Stornoway, artists including Johannah Churchill, Sam Ivin and Leticia Valverdes have focused on making photographs that portray the viewpoints of the people involved.

Projects marking the 80th anniversary of the end of the second world war can easily lapse into cliche, but Our Freedom: Then and Now avoids sentimentality. In fact, part of its power lies in engaging with the complexities of contemporary society and culture. It avoids simple slogans and instead the photographs foreground thoughtful reflections on conflict and the ongoing importance of finding common ground and sustaining connection.

As Stephanie Peacock, the UK’s minister for sport, tourism, civil society and youth, said at the launch, the project comes at an important time. With fewer people having direct memories of the war, sharing their reminiscences alongside the voices of schoolchildren and young artists creates a conversation between those who remember 1945 and those who will shape 2045.

This exchange fosters two forms of understanding: participants learn about themselves, and viewers learn about others. According to Simon Mellor, Arts Council England’s deputy chief-executive, these works bring local experiences into national conversations, offering a valuable space for dialogue in difficult times.

This was certainly my experience. I left the gallery surprised by the many ways freedom is experienced and understood across the UK. Whether it’s a veteran in Wolverhampton or a student in Hartlepool, the cumulative effect of individuals’ thoughts about freedom and community was fascinating and thought-provoking.

The exhibition is grounded by poet laureate Simon Armitage’s specially commissioned poem, Freedom Road. Echoing the participant photographs, the poem shifts its focus from grand images of liberation to the simple, everyday actions that make up real freedom. He writes:

You can’t dig up freedom like a potato

from the verges of Freedom Way, or pan it

from Freedom Beck like inklings of gold;

it won’t be delivered to Freedom Avenue

gift-wrapped in silver string.

Armitage suggests that freedom is most real when it goes unnoticed, such as the ability to disagree with a neighbour, walk where we want, and live as we choose. This idea aligns with the exhibition’s main goal: to show that freedom is something we live every day – not just a piece of history to remember now and then, but something current and vital.

The exhibition on tour

The exhibition’s tour is as ambitious as the work itself. After starting at the Southbank Centre, it travels to places like Eden Court in Inverness, the McKechnie Institute in South Ayrshire and the Strand Arts Centre in Belfast, bringing the art back to the communities that helped create it.

This return is important because it shows that art doesn’t just happen in big cities; it grows from local libraries and community centres and derives its power from these regional identities. In 2025, more than 530,000 people took part in the events and performances leading up to this exhibition.

By steering clear of easy sentimentality, Our Freedom: Then and Now does something more meaningful. It offers an honest look at how we live together. The exhibition recognises the difficult parts of our shared histories while reminding us of our shared humanity.

In a nation that can feel divided, Our Freedom: Then and Now uses photography to highlight what people have in common and where we might work harder to find those commonalities. It’s a reminder that, even though freedom requires work, it is not only worth it but necessary.

Mark Rawlinson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Our Freedom: Then and Now explores what freedom means to Brits, 80 years after the second world war – https://theconversation.com/our-freedom-then-and-now-explores-what-freedom-means-to-brits-80-years-after-the-second-world-war-280955

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Elizabeth Stanway, Reader in Astronomy and Astrophysics, University of Warwick

Dan Dare: Pilot of the Future was a groundbreaking science fiction comic serial, first appearing in the UK comic The Eagle in 1950. Now, more than 75 years later, a reinvention of the series is underway, with the first new graphic novel written by Alex de Campi (Bad Girls and Madi) with art by Marc Laming (Marvel’s Star Wars). set for later this year.

As science fiction enthusiast and a scientist, I am excited to see what it will be like. I’m sure I’m not alone, as a number of scientists – including the late astrophysicist and cosmologist
Stephen Hawking and planetary scientist Colin Pillinger – cited Dan Dare’s exciting vision of the future as instrumental in their decision to pursue science.

Daniel McGregor Dare is an officer in the Britain-based Interplanet Space Force (ISF). Faced with overpopulation and starvation on Earth, the ISF is tasked with exploring the possibility of crop production or trade on Venus. After initial problems, Dan Dare and a small group of colleagues are able to reach the surface of the planet. Once there, they find a habitable world with two native species: the friendly Therons, and the inimical Treens, with the latter led by their “super-scientist” the Mekon. Defeating the Mekon, and making arrangements for food supply with the Therons, Dare opens up the solar system, and ultimately the wider galaxy, to humanity.

While the concept of Dan Dare originated with a clergyman, Marcus Morris, its formative years and storylines were shaped by a very different man. Writer and artist Frank Hampson was known for the attention he paid to the science, working from detailed models and reference photographs. He gave thought to plausible design and stayed abreast of developing vehicle technologies and concepts, while also working with a scientific advisor.

In an early story, “The Red Moon Mystery” (serialised in The Eagle in 1952), for instance, he had the character Professor Peabody explain planetary orbits, magnetic fields and spectroscopic biosignatures to a young audience. He also drew a sequence with accurate representations of the Royal Observatory at Herstmonceux in Sussex, and a character closely based on the astronomer royal of the time, Sir Harold Spencer Jones.

This level of precision both added to the verisimilitude of his stories and appealed to an enthusiastic audience that saw a bright future in space exploration, an audience that included budding scientists Hawking and Pillinger.

Sadly, the level of scientific accuracy in the series declined after Hampson’s departure, with writers introducing more bizarre aliens and unexplained interstellar travel. But its engagement, from the very beginning, with technical accuracy and scientific plausibility, continues in many ways and is also part of the reason for its longevity and why it remains relevant.

A new Dan Dare

Despite its many reinventions over the decades, much of this premise has remained unchanged. Dare has always represented humanity’s best, and is typically shown as an optimistic exemplar of bravery, chivalry and honour. The Kickstarter page for the new Dan Dare: First Contact novel makes it clear that the current creative team respects the character’s origins. As the new reboot’s writer Alex de Campi says:

if you are already a Dan Dare fan, there’s a ton of references to the classic stories as well as a sincere respect for Frank Hampson’s legacy from our entire creative team.

But like the 1990s graphic novel written by Scottish comic writer Grant Morrison or the 2010s audio dramas made by B7 Productions, there will be some changes in the story. For instance, these iterations have given more agency to Dare’s female scientist colleague Professor Jocelyn Peabody. They have also typically been darker and more cynical regarding the political or commercial interests funding human spaceflight.

The new Dan Dare team also acknowledge Hampson would have expected changes in scientific and contextual representation:

In First Contact, the science is updated, making Dan’s world one we can understand from our current point of view: a world of bickering oligarchs, broken nations, and climate disaster. The stakes are immediate: humanity is only just getting faster-than-light travel.

As I’ve discussed in my own work on the relationship between science and science fiction, the stories have always reflected our changing understanding of solar system habitability. Already by 1950, scientific studies were making it clear that Venus was uninhabitable, although popular culture and even school textbooks often retained the older visions. As a result, more recent versions have tended to gloss over issues such as the origin of the Treens, sometimes relocating their civilisation to cloud cities high in the atmosphere of Venus.

The changing science shouldn’t be a surprise: the role of science fiction has always been to mirror and extrapolate as much from the sociopolitical concerns of a time as from its technology and science. Good science fiction has always balanced accurate science with fine storytelling and a critical eye towards social trends and their logical extremes. The new Dan Dare project will do so for a new audience, adding to a remarkable eight-decade long record of popular engagement with space science.

Elizabeth Stanway does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Dan Dare is blasting off again: why, as a scientist, I’m excited for the comics’ return – https://theconversation.com/dan-dare-is-blasting-off-again-why-as-a-scientist-im-excited-for-the-comics-return-281053