Author: MIL-OSI Publisher

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Laura Smith, PhD Researcher and Graduate Teaching Fellow, University of Liverpool

In her 2022 novel Trespasses, Louise Kennedy captures the emotional turmoil of an intimate relationship between Cushla, a young Catholic woman, and Michael, an older married Protestant man during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Their love is difficult, not just because Michael is married but also because it is seen as a “mixed relationship” within Northern Irish society.

The Troubles was a period of violence stemming from a political divide over British rule, which lasted for about 30 years from the late 1960s to 1998. The fighting was between the Unionist/Loyalists who wanted Northern Ireland to remain part of the United Kingdom and the Nationalist/Republicans who sought a united Ireland. These groups were also split on religious lines with Unionist/Loyalists being mostly Protestant and Nationalist/Republicans mostly Catholic.

Channel 4’s new adaptation of Trespasses, starring Lola Petticrew, Tom Cullen and Gillian Anderson, is set in 1975, in the height of the Troubles. With the signing of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, which brought an era of “peace” to Northern Ireland, you might assume the experiences of Cushla and Michael would no longer be common. However, my research shows that the story’s themes of forbidden love remain for women in “mixed” relationships today.

In Northern Ireland, many people still identify as either being Catholic, Nationalist and Republican or Protestant, Unionist and Loyalist, although there is an increase in people now choosing to identify as “neither”. However, key indicators of the degree of segregation in society still remain high.

The availability of integrated schools or provision of mixed-denomination social housing remains low, which means the opportunities to mix across these communities can be limited. There is also the continued presence of “peace walls”, physical barriers made of materials such as concrete, barbed wire or corrugated metal at interfaces between residential areas, which serve as a visual reminder of the violent conflict.

Endogamy, where couples marry someone from their own community, is still the single most powerful factor that bolsters the divisions between groups. Estimates suggest that approximately 20% of all relationships in Northern Ireland are mixed. Charities such as the Northern Ireland Mixed Marriage Association (NIMMA), which was founded in 1974, continues to support couples living with these undercurrents of institutionalised segregation. And for many couples, just like Cushla and Michael, crossing the religious and political divide still carries some emotional weight.

Everyday challenges

For Cushla, worrying about being seen in public with Michael is a recurring theme throughout their love story. Her inner monologue documents decisions she makes to counteract this fear of political violence, including avoiding driving through loyalist roads that border Michael’s area.

In my own research with women currently in mixed-denominational relationships in Northern Ireland, I found that echoes of Cushla’s fears persist. While none of my participants spoke about fear of physical violence, many spoke about ways they have learned to cope with subtle disapproval from neighbours and colleagues. Telling friends and family about their relationship also proved difficult for some women.

One participant spoke about how fear infiltrated into her parents’ concerns:

I knew my parents were uncomfortable with me going to a super Protestant area they’d heard bad things about. And then, I know that they were uncomfortable at the idea of me even being in a house with like a British soldier, they didn’t like that idea at all.

There was also a common thread of how women have to negotiate different expectations from families. This often emerged while organising weddings or raising children, and was a source of emotional discomfort.

While couples may feel invincible – just like Cushla and Michael did in their dangerous and passionate relationship, leading them to get complacent with their precautions – love isn’t always enough.

Everyday peace

As my ongoing research has shown, there can be a particular emotional burden that falls on these couples as they try to maintain harmony between two different identities. This burden often falls on the woman in the relationship, and is connected to other aspects of emotional and reproductive work that women may feel pressured by society to undertake.

My work focuses on how couples manage these relationships through practising what peace and conflict researchers call “everyday peace”. It refers to the ways in which ordinary people try to make their way with as much as ease as possible through in a deeply divided society. For people in mixed relationships, this can lead them to choose to stay silent, avoid contentious issues, or become ambiguous about their identity.

Ambiguity was most strongly demonstrated with reference to names. As Cushla refers to herself, Irish names become significant identifiers of being Catholic. We watch as she is tempted to give a fake name when she is stopped at a checkpoint by a Protestant soldier.

Some of my participants similarly ask their partners to refer to them by a different name while they’re at a pub in a new area. Another example given was using a nickname when getting parcels delivered to their house. These strategies emerge out of a genuine fear, or a self-acknowledged paranoia of what might happen if the wrong person finds out they are in a mixed relationship.

My research shows that being in a mixed relationship within a society trying to heal is still complicated. While it is certainly possible to have a successful mixed relationship in Northern Ireland today, some of the contentious aspects of Cushla and Michael’s relationship do still prevail.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

Laura Smith 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. Trespasses: little has changed for couples dating across the religious and political divide in Northern Ireland – https://theconversation.com/trespasses-little-has-changed-for-couples-dating-across-the-religious-and-political-divide-in-northern-ireland-269550

Source: The Conversation – UK – By William Plowright, Assistant Professor in International Security, Durham University

A few years ago, you might have balked if someone told you that the US president would be photographed in the White House shaking hands with a man who was a former member of al-Qaeda, an insurgent against US forces in Iraq, and had led one of the largest Syrian Islamist armed groups.

But that’s exactly what happened when Donald Trump welcomed his Syrian counterpart, Ahmed al-Sharaa, to Washington on November 10. Al-Sharaa became the first Syrian leader in history to be invited to the White House.

Al-Sharaa’s stunning ascendancy to power has seen him become an almost mythic figure in Middle Eastern regional politics. As the head of an armed group known as Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), he overthrew Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad in 2024 and ended the family’s 50-year reign.

In the process, HTS also brought the Syrian civil war to a close. This was a brutal 13-year period in which more than 600,000 lives were lost and more than 6.5 million people were displaced.

Al-Sharaa has complicated roots in the broader al-Qaeda family, but he has long taken steps to distance himself from that legacy. His approach has been described by some observers as shifting “from jihad to politics”.

During the latter half of the war, HTS was restricted to its powerbase in the north-western governorate of Idlib. The group began to eschew terrorism by publicly breaking with al-Qaeda, and instead sought to earn trust and provide a legitimate base of governance.

Since taking control of Syria, HTS has continued this public personification of tolerance and stability. The group’s leadership regularly asserts that it is willing to accept diversity and that its primary goal with all parties – even longstanding rival Israel – is peaceful cohabitation.

Al-Sharaa has also worked hard to project a moderate image. He was recently photographed playing basketball with US military commanders – hardly the typical image most of us would have in mind of a former jihadist leader.

Some people have raised concerns that HTS is only pretending to be moderate and is hiding its true intentions. Others have noted conservative policies that were put in place while HTS was in control of Idlib.

Although the war in Syria has largely ended, it would also be naive to think that sectarian violence has disappeared. Conflicts have broken out between communities including the Druze and Sunni Bedouin groups.

There have also been a string of targeted killings against the Alawite community, the Assad family’s traditional base of support. It is in this context that al-Sharaa undertook his trip to Washington.

US-Syria ties

Since HTS took power, there has been a large international debate over how to engage with the new regime in Syria. Clearly, the approach of the Trump administration is to be pragmatic. This is not the first time that powerful figures in the US have contemplated working with al-Sharaa in some way.

As far back as 2015, former CIA director David Petraeus suggested that the US should consider working with members of HTS’s predecessor, Jabhat al-Nusra, in the battle against Islamic State (IS). And although HTS was officially listed as a terrorist organisation by the US in 2018, this approach was softened in July 2025.

The question remains of what Trump and al-Sharaa want from each other. The legitimacy granted by the trip to Washington is incentive enough for al-Sharaa, but he stands to gain more. With an aggressive and retaliatory Israel still occupying the Golan Heights and other parts of southern Syria, and regularly bombing inside Syria’s borders, al-Sharaa needs allies.

Trump has already revoked most of the US sanctions that were placed on Syria during the civil war – and suspended some more following the meeting in Washington. He will also probably play a role in unlocking World Bank funding for rebuilding in Syria.

The incentives for the US may include gaining an airbase in Syria’s capital, Damascus, that would help it rival Russia’s influence in the region. There is also a rumour that Syria will join the Abraham accords, the agreements normalising diplomatic relations between Israel and several Arab states, which Trump is pushing to expand. However, this is unlikely as long as Israel occupies the Golan Heights.

Stronger ties between the US and Syria would mean successfully turning Iran’s strongest regional ally away from it, while also helping the US further combat the IS group. During his visit to Washington, al-Sharaa publicly joined the global coalition against IS. Though, in reality, HTS has been fighting the group on the ground for years.

Many regional players have an interest in al-Sharaa’s project succeeding. Lebanon, Turkey and Jordan want an end to conflict on their borders and to see refugees return home, while Saudi Arabia is keen to steal Syria as an ally from Iran. Al-Sharaa is even in talks with Israel about a military and security agreement, and he has already visited the Russian leader, Vladimir Putin, in Moscow.

Shia-led Iraq is likely to be at best suspicious and at worst hostile to al-Sharaa, though both it and Iran may be left with no choice but to accept the new status quo. And this is to say nothing of the Kurds in north-eastern Syria. They bore the brunt of the war against IS and have already been repeatedly abandoned by Trump in their conflict against Turkish forces. They may not react positively to al-Sharaa’s plans to reunify the country.

It remains to be seen if al-Sharaa can consolidate power, end the sporadic violence in Syria and stabilise the country. An unstable Syria means an unstable Middle East, and an unstable Middle East is a problem well beyond the borders of the region.

William Plowright 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. How former jihadist Ahmed al-Sharaa ended up being welcomed to the White House – https://theconversation.com/how-former-jihadist-ahmed-al-sharaa-ended-up-being-welcomed-to-the-white-house-269631

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Hala Al-Hamawi, PhD Candidate, Climate Finance, Nottingham Trent University

The Middle East region, home to both oil-rich economies and fragile, conflict-affected states, remains among the most underfunded in the global climate landscape.

Equitable access to international finance is essential to combat climate change, particularly in the upcoming Baku to Belem Roadmap, which aims to mobilise US$1.3 trillion (£1 trillion) in global financing for climate action at Cop30, the UN climate summit.

The Middle East region is far from uniform. Several fragile countries in the region, including Yemen, Syria, Palestine, Iraq and Lebanon, and host countries of refugees such as Jordan, were among the top 20 recipients of humanitarian aid over the past decade.

Wars and climate change are inextricably linked. Climate change can increase the likelihood of violent conflict by intensifying resource scarcity and displacement, while conflict itself accelerates environmental damage. This article is part of a series, War on climate, which explores the relationship between climate issues and global conflicts.

While Yemen, Syria and Palestine are among the top three recipients of humanitarian aid, they receive the least funding for climate action. Yet they remain among the most vulnerable regions to extreme weather events such as frequent drought, heatwaves, and flash floods.

Responding to conflicts in the region has not only redirected finance to humanitarian efforts, but also pushed climate action further down the priority list. This is in addition to the fact that emissions from prolonged conflicts and the destruction of infrastructure are neglected because they are difficult to measure or compensate for.

A global imbalance

According to the thinktank Climate Policy Initiative’s (CPI) recent report 2025, between 2018 and 2023, 79% of finance dedicated to address climate change was mainly mobilised in three regions: East Asia and the Pacific, Western Europe and North America. This has left the Middle East and North Africa region consistently underfunded.

Where finance has flowed into the region, more than half has come from the private sector, mainly for renewable energy projects such as solar photovoltaics and onshore wind. Globally, mitigation continues to dominate in 2023. International climate finance for mitigation was 27 times higher than for adaptation.

Climate ambitions and the finance needed to implement them vary across countries in the region. The costs of implementing identified climate ambition by 2030 (so-called nationally determined contributions) of 11 countries (including Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Morocco, Tunisia and Sudan) amount to US$570 billion. Egypt, Iraq and Morocco account for nearly three-quarters that total amount requested.

Yet international finance flows for climate action between 2010 and 2020 remain highly concentrated in politically stable countries in North Africa, such as Egypt, Morocco and Tunisia, while conflict-affected states in the Middle East are left behind.

I have researched the anticipated shift in global leadership in financing climate action following the US withdrawal from the Paris agreement. I found that between 2010 and 2021, the US disbursed US$390 billion in global development assistance, of which just over 11% (US$45.1 billion) went to the Middle East and North Africa. Yet less than 1% of this – only US$197 million – was allocated to climate action.

China, by contrast, has emerged as a major global lender, committing US$314 billion over the same period, of which more than 90% was in loans. However, its climate finance contribution remains opaque, voluntary and under-researched. Only around 6% of Chinese finance reached the region, and the share dedicated to climate action is largely unknown.

The US retreat from global climate leadership, combined with China’s growing role, raises pressing questions about the future of climate finance in the region, particularly through technology transfer and investments.

Filling the shortfall

Despite these challenges, new financial instruments may offer hope. Tools such as green bonds, carbon trading and climate debt swaps could help bridge the finance gap, particularly for indebted low- and middle-income countries.

The region already has experience with development-related debt swaps. A debt swap is an agreement between a government and its creditors to replace sovereign debt with investment commitments toward development goals (such as education or environmental protection), as a form of debt relief. Germany partnered with Jordan, France with Egypt and Sweden with Tunisia in earlier development-focused agreements.

Structuring debt swaps for climate purposes will be complex but potentially transformative. Initiatives to provide technical support for climate debt swaps, such as those by the UN’s Economic and Social Commission for West Asia, aim to achieve debt relief and promote climate action.

The private sector also has a crucial role in scaling up investments, particularly given the persistent shortfall in public finance from developed countries.

These instruments and private-sector investments may be unfeasible in conflict-affected countries due to poor economic conditions and limited capital. Supporting these vulnerable nations requires further exploration, potentially through regional initiatives with nearby stable countries.

Closing this financing gap requires more than humanitarian aid to address the adverse consequences of climate change. It demands recalibrating global finance flows, recognising the region’s specific vulnerabilities and fostering greater innovation through new tools and partnerships. Equitable access and allocation of the proposed US$1.3 billion will be essential. Without this, the region risks being left behind in the race to adapt to and mitigate climate change.

Don’t have time to read about climate change as much as you’d like?

Get a weekly roundup in your inbox instead. Every Wednesday, The Conversation’s environment editor writes Imagine, a short email that goes a little deeper into just one climate issue. Join the 45,000+ readers who’ve subscribed so far.

Hala Al-Hamawi is a Senior Associate in Climate Finance at the Global Green Growth Institute. She is also a Climate Finance Negotiator Fellow with the Climate Vulnerable Forum (CVF).

– ref. Why the Middle East is being left behind by global climate finance plans – https://theconversation.com/why-the-middle-east-is-being-left-behind-by-global-climate-finance-plans-268161

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Matthew Allen, Lecturer in Economics, Salford Business School, University of Salford

US president Donald Trump’s 15% baseline tariffs on EU imports may read like a throwback to old-school protectionism, designed to safeguard American jobs and manufacturing. But in today’s globalised and digitally driven economy, the risk isn’t just to steel or car factories, it’s to innovation itself.

The world’s most advanced technologies rely on complex, deeply integrated supply chains. Evidence from 2023 shows that even temporary US tariff shocks disrupted relationships between firms. And these tariffs won’t just hit the EU. They will disrupt the high-value tech ecosystems of partners like the UK – especially firms contributing to artificial intelligence (AI), semiconductor design and cybersecurity.

These industries underpin national resilience, data security and the competitiveness of advanced economies. For the UK, which often positions itself as a global innovation hub post-Brexit, the fallout could be significant.

Take ARM Holdings, the Cambridge-based semiconductor giant whose chip designs power 99% of the world’s smartphones and an increasing share of AI infrastructure.

ARM doesn’t manufacture chips itself. Instead, it licenses its architecture to firms like Apple, Nvidia and Qualcomm. That makes it a prime example of the UK’s value in the global innovation chain: high intellectual property (IP), low carbon footprint, huge reach.

ARM’s position as a vital link in the supply chain underlines another point. Trade policy aimed at traditional manufacturing sectors can inadvertently destabilise tech-intensive, IP-led sectors like semiconductors and software. This is echoed in research examining global tariff spillovers on tech competitiveness.

If tariffs are applied to components or design work linked to traded goods that cross EU or UK borders en route to US manufacturers, it introduces a layer of risk and cost to innovative firms and their global partners.

Even if a company’s work isn’t directly taxed, the uncertainty and red tape may make US firms think twice about sourcing from outside US jurisdictions. While Trump might present that as a victory for American manufacturing, in reality it could raise costs for US producers, damage innovation and make US firms less competitive in the industries he aims to protect.

It’s not just the giants at risk. In the UK, Cambridge’s wider tech cluster, sometimes called “Silicon Fen”, is home to dozens of ambitious AI firms. With operations spanning the UK, EU and US, companies like this depend on fast, flexible and trusted international partnerships to develop, deploy and refine their products. Tariff-related disruptions make collaboration harder at a time when speed is a competitive advantage.

This is not hypothetical. Tariffs reduce access to large markets – and when markets shrink, firms reduce investment in research and innovation.

What Trump gets wrong

Trump’s broader narrative suggests tariffs can bring back jobs and restore industrial power to the US. But innovation doesn’t work like that. A semiconductor isn’t made in one place. A cybersecurity system isn’t built by a single team. These are networked, iterative processes, involving researchers, suppliers, data centres and talent pools across continents. Disrupt that flow and you slow progress.

The UK is especially exposed because of its unique post-Brexit positioning. It trades independently from the EU but is still tightly intertwined with it, particularly in tech sectors.

Many UK firms use EU distribution centres to reach the US market or collaborate with EU partners on joint projects involving data, hardware or software This reflects the fact that the UK remains tightly integrated into European supply and value chains – exporting £358 billion of goods and services to the EU in 2024 alone. Tariffs targeting the EU could easily catch UK-originated components or design work as collateral damage.

Modelling has shown that Trump’s proposed tariffs could reduce EU-US trade volumes across multiple sectors, particularly in tech, where integrated production routes are standard.

Small and medium-sized enterprises and startups may find themselves most vulnerable. These firms typically can’t absorb sudden cost increases or legal complexities. Nor can they easily switch suppliers or reroute through different customs zones.

If you’re an early-stage AI company relying on a specific chip from Germany and a US cloud partner to train your model, a 15% tariff adds months of delays and thousands of pounds in costs, just to maintain the status quo.

From a policy perspective, the impact goes deeper. The UK government has championed sectors like AI, fintech and clean tech as pillars of economic growth. But these industries are only as strong as the networks that sustain them. If global fragmentation accelerates, the UK risks losing its role as a bridge between the US and the EU.

Meanwhile, countries like China continue to invest heavily in consolidating their innovation supply chains, from chip manufacturing to AI research, particularly in efforts to secure domestic control over advanced technologies and semiconductors. This is something that the US and EU have only recently begun to coordinate on.

In the short term, Trump’s tariff strategy may boost US customs revenue, which is up US$50 billion (£38 billion) a month by some estimates.

But this is not “free money”. These revenues are largely absorbed by businesses and ultimately passed on to consumers through higher prices, or to smaller suppliers through squeezed profit margins.

More fundamentally, it represents a belief that economic strength comes from protection rather than connection. But innovation has never worked that way. It thrives on collaboration, trust and scale. Tariffs may be politically effective, but economically they are the equivalent of building firewalls between teams that are supposed to be co-writing the future.

As the UK charts its post-Brexit global role, aligning itself with open, innovation-driven economies should be a priority. That means standing up for the integrity of global tech supply chains and recognising that disruption to one part of the system can reverberate far beyond its intended target.

Matthew Allen is affiliated with The Conservative Party as a party member. I am not a councillor or an MP. I am also not active in any campaigning.

– ref. Trump’s tariffs threaten the future of innovation – and UK tech could be collateral damage – https://theconversation.com/trumps-tariffs-threaten-the-future-of-innovation-and-uk-tech-could-be-collateral-damage-269158

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Alison Hess, Lecturer in Museum and Gallery Studies, University of Westminster

Around 70-90% of museum collections around the world are kept in storage . Often housed in buildings far away from their public institution, they represent a picture of hidden cultural and historical resources.

Remote storage often presents logistical and cost challenges to enabling public access to collections, and it remains an area of museum work that is easy to overlook by management, funders and policymakers. However, new projects are once again drawing attention to the value of access to both the collections and the decisions that are made about them.

In May of this year an exciting new addition to London’s Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park opened its doors to the public. Occupying a spot between four of the London 2012 Olympic Boroughs (Hackney, Newham, Tower Hamlets and Waltham Forest), the V&A East Storehouse is part museum, cultural centre, archive and leisure destination. It is the latest addition to a growing family of V&A sites.

The Storehouse describes itself as “your access-all-areas experience of the V&A collection” and offers a behind-the-scenes look at the world of museum storage. It is a chance to explore half a million creative works, from the Glastonbury festival archive, to Roman frescoes, Dior haute couture, Samurai swords, Elton John’s costumes and mid-century furniture.

The experience itself is highly polished. Visitors are greeted at the door by a friendly staff member, then guided up the stairs into the main atrium. Here they discover a beautifully curated and highly designed idea of what a museum store should like.

Open shelving displays collection items within arm’s reach of the public, and only light interpretation (short labels and QR codes) hint at their purpose and the connections between them. Between the wide-open vistas of the space and below the glass floor, the storage proper is visible.

When I visited, there was a real buzz from a steady stream of visitors seeking the perfect Instagram shot from above the glass floor. However, as an academic who recently led an AHRC-funded research project on museum storage, my interest lies in what this new museum brings to the long-running challenge of balancing collections storage with meaningful public access.

A short history of museum storage

Collections have been outgrowing collectors’ capacity to store them for almost as long as museums have been around. However, with the emergence of recognisable public institutions, collections storage became no longer a personal problem, but a professional one.

The post-second world war period in Europe saw cultural institutions rapidly gain new and expanded collections. The careful reflection of collecting boards and policies, so familiar to current day museum practice, were not yet seen as necessary.

The result was that museum collections quickly expanded beyond the capacity of their public sites and were increasingly relocated to any space the museum could find, with consequences for security, conservation and accessibility.

By 1976 this had become such a universal problem that the International Council of Museums (ICOM) and Unesco organised a conference in Washington DC called the International Conference on Museum Storage. Many of the standard procedures still used in museums today came from this meeting. For example, the fact that museum collections are now kept in clean, dry, pest-free and temperature-controlled environments. However, what sometimes seems to have been lost in this process, is the centrality of public access.

If collections are not used or even visible, why do we, as a society, continue to keep them? Nowhere else has this question become more pressing, than in the case of communities whose cultural items have been taken without permission, through colonialism, opportunism or greed.

In 2024 ICOM returned to the problem of storage with the publication of a global report titled Museum Storage Around the World. Based on feedback from museums across the globe, a familiar picture of lack of space and funding emerged.

The resulting ICOM International Committee on Museum Storage seeks to bring the discussions around conservation and safety into a proper dialogue. Questions of access, cultural ownership and return come to the fore as storage spaces increasingly become the location for discussions with collections’ community partners.

Order-an-object experience

With echoes of the 1990s trend for “open storage” galleries, pioneered in places such as the National Railway Museum North Shed, the Storehouse still contains only a small proportion of the V&A collections.

The public areas are not a museum storeroom. The items on display are all carefully selected and curated. They are, as are all museum displays, only a snapshot of the complete collection, and a compelling reminder of the vast cultural resources that remain unseen in museum storage around the world.

The Storehouse offers an innovative solution: the order-an-object experience. Visitors search the V&A catalogue online, find an item they are interested in and book a time slot to see it. While not all items are viewable at the Storehouse (some can only be seen at the South Kensington site) the experience is easy and straightforward. And unlike many institutions, the service is open to anyone, not just academic researchers. The only limitation is that slots book up quickly, so advance booking is essential.

Once in the Study Centre, visitors can observe, interact or simply commune with objects in the V&A collections, supported by a member staff trained in collections handling and customer service. The simplicity and openness of the service represents a significant change in the way collections access can be realised if given enough resources and support.

The long-term preservation of museum collections remains a complex and challenging issue. Not all collections should be kept, not all collections should be universally accessible, but nor should they be hidden away, with conversations about their future happening behind closed doors.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

Alison Hess has received funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council.

– ref. How the new V&A Storehouse is reshaping public access to museum collections – https://theconversation.com/how-the-new-vanda-storehouse-is-reshaping-public-access-to-museum-collections-269462

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Eleanor Dobson, Associate Professor in Nineteenth-Century Literature, University of Birmingham

November 2025 marks 100 years since archaeologists first examined Tutankhamun’s mummified remains. What followed wasn’t scientific triumph – it was destruction. Using hot knives and brute force, Howard Carter’s team decapitated the pharaoh, severed his limbs and dismembered his torso. Then they covered it up.

Tutankhamun’s tomb was first discovered in the Valley of the Kings by a team of mostly Egyptian excavators led by Howard Carter in November 1922. However, it took several years for the excavators to clear and catalogue the tomb’s antechamber – the first part of what would become a decade-long excavation.

This meticulous work, as well as delays caused by friction between Carter and the Egyptian government, meant that it wasn’t until 1925 that Tutankhamun’s remains were uncovered. This milestone whipped up another wave of what has been termed “Tutmania” after the tomb’s initial discovery generated a wave of popular fascination for Egyptian archaeology.

When Carter’s team eventually opened Tutankhamun’s innermost coffin, they found the pharaoh’s body fused to the casket by a hardened, black, pitch-like substance. This resin was poured over the wrappings during burial to protect the body from decay.

Carter described the corpse as “firmly stuck” and noted that “no amount of legitimate force” could free it. In a desperate attempt to soften the resin and remove the body, the coffin was exposed to the heat of the sun. When this failed, the team resorted to hot knives, severing Tutankhamun’s head and funerary mask from his body in the process.

The autopsy that followed was devastating. Tutankhamun was left “decapitated, his arms separated at the shoulders, elbows and hands, his legs at the hips, knees and ankles, and his torso cut from the pelvis at the iliac crest”. His remains were later glued together to simulate an intact body – a macabre reconstruction that concealed the violence of the process.

Egyptologist Joyce Tyldesley has pointed out that this destruction is conspicuously absent from Carter’s public account of the autopsy. It is also absent from his private excavation records, which are available at the University of Oxford’s Griffith Institute and online.

Tyldesley suggests that Carter’s silence may reflect either a deliberate cover-up or a respectful attempt to preserve the dignity of the deceased king. His omissions, however, were documented in photos by the archaeological photographer Harry Burton. These shots offer a stark visual record of the dismemberment.

In some of Burton’s images, Tutankhamun’s skull is visibly impaled to keep it upright for photography. These images sit in grim contrast to the one Carter chose for the second volume of his work detailing the excavations, The Tomb of Tut-Ankh-Amen, published in 1927. In this sanitised image, the pharaoh’s head is wrapped in fabric, concealing the severed spinal column, presenting a more palatable view for public consumption.

As we reflect on the centenary of this examination, it is worth reconsidering the legacy of Carter’s excavation, not just as a landmark in Egyptology, but as a moment of ethical reckoning. The mutilation of Tutankhamun’s body, obscured in official narratives, invites us to challenge narratives of archaeological triumph and to look back on the past with a more critical view.

“Today has been a great day in the history of archaeology,” Carter wrote in his excavation diary on November 11 1925, when the medical examination of Tutankhamun’s remains began. But the archival evidence suggests something far more morally complicated, even grisly, lying behind the seductive glint of gold.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

Eleanor Dobson 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. Tutankhamun was decapitated 100 years ago – why the excavation is a great shame instead of a triumph – https://theconversation.com/tutankhamun-was-decapitated-100-years-ago-why-the-excavation-is-a-great-shame-instead-of-a-triumph-269015

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Andrew Dix, Senior Lecturer in American Literature and Film, Loughborough University

When a house mysteriously explodes in the sleepy suburbs of south Oxford and a child goes missing in the aftermath, concerned neighbour Sarah Trafford is driven to seek the truth. As an art conservator, Trafford is way out of her depth, so she enlists the help of a private investigator, Zoë Boehm. However, the pair end up in a plot far more serious than Boehm’s usual work of checking credit ratings and tracking adulterous husbands.

This is the story of Down Cemetery Road (2003), the debut novel of writer Mick Herron, which has been adapted into an eight-part series by Apple TV. Down Cemetery Road is the second of Herron’s book series to be adapted by Apple, coming hot on the heels of the fifth season of the critically acclaimed Slow Horses, which centres on misfits and renegades navigating bureaucracy and corruption at MI5.

Like Slow Horses, Down Cemetery Road is fronted by British acting greats, with Ruth Wilson as art conservator Sarah Trafford and Emma Thompson as private investigator Zoë Boehm. It also exposes failings at the heart of British institutions, this time the UK government.

Read more:
Slow Horses: high drama and comedy abound in this gripping spy thriller about reject spooks

Boehm and Trafford uncover evidence that the UK government has deliberately maimed its own soldiers during illicit chemical weapons testing on the battlefield (the Gulf war in Herron’s novel, Afghanistan in the adaptation). To an even greater extent on screen than on the page, however, this military premise feels like one of Alfred Hitchcock’s “MacGuffins”: something to get the narrative engines firing, rather than a theme for profound exploration.

As a conspiracy thriller, then, Apple’s Down Cemetery Road does not compare with such classics of British TV as Edge of Darkness (1985, exploring a shadowy expansion of nuclear power) and State of Play (2003, about corrupt links between politicians and the oil industry). But while it is politically thin, it is nevertheless satisfying as a TV spectacle.

One of the incidental delights in watching the series is to encounter stalwarts of British acting even in minor roles. Mark Benton, a PI himself in the long-running series Shakespeare & Hathaway, turns up here as an Oxford academic.

He momentarily emerges from his wineglass to reminisce about Sarah as a gifted student who memorised the whole of The Waste Land (including, he marvels, the footnotes). Sara Kestelman, best known for her career in theatre, is touching as a bereaved mother. Gary Lewis, the initially scornful father in Billy Elliot, is bracing as a Scottish skipper who believes Zoë and Sarah to be yet more English folk intent on telling “humble Highlanders” what to do.

But the star turns are Thompson and Wilson. Zoë’s sustained presence on screen actually represents a promotion from the novel, where she is surprisingly absent until the second half.

Thompson is visibly having fun as she breaks away from the buttoned-up gentility of films such as Sense and Sensibility, Howards End and The Remains of the Day that, even now, will define her for many viewers. Her language is as spiky as her punkish silver hair, such as when she talks of collecting her husband from “the fuck-up creche”.

Wilson, as throughout her film, TV and theatre career, embodies intelligence and curiosity as Sarah. We are alerted to her vigilance from the start, as we see her scrutinising a painting through her art conservator’s magnifying glasses. But if she looks outwards keenly, she has fewer opportunities as the series unfolds to turn her gaze inwards.

The adaptation is relatively uninterested in the inner lives of others, too. In Herron’s novel, even the frightening government operative Amos Crane has interiority, chafing at the bureaucratic confines within which he has to work. Here he is played by Fehinti Balogun as a robotic killer, seemingly incapable of feeling (other than briefly mourning his brother and, improbably, laughing at an episode of the BBC sitcom Keeping Up Appearances).

While characterisation is thinned in Apple’s adaptation, the action is thickened. Morwenna Banks and her co-screenwriters are unafraid to introduce fights and chases not found in Herron’s novel. In an especially thrilling sequence, Down Cemetery Road joins films such as The Lady Vanishes and Murder on the Orient Express in exploiting the suspense possibilities offered by a speeding train, with no opportunity to get off.

The spectacular sometimes takes a homelier form. The moment when Zoë eats a giant meringue is made striking when it shatters into sugary shards, an explosion scarcely less apocalyptic than that in the opening episode.

The moment is funnier than the repeated conversations between civil servant mandarin C. (Darren Boyd) and hapless underling Hamza Malik (Adeel Akhtar). Their scenes, offered as comic relief, come to grate and indicate a certain self-indulgence about the adaptation.

There are thoughtful sounds, too. Mozart’s Requiem is heard as the action reaches a deathly climax. And bebop jazz by Dizzy Gillespie plays over a scene of narrative discordance at the end of the opening episode. Particular thought has also been given to each episode’s closing music: songs such as P.J. Harvey’s Big Exit and Björk’s Bachelorette are witty, apt choices.

Over the final credits, we hear Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You. With three more Zoë Boehm novels already written by Herron, it is an open question whether we will be seeing her again.

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a carefully curated selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, straight to your inbox every fortnight, on Fridays. Sign up here.

Andrew Dix 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. Down Cemetery Road: Emma Thompson and Ruth Wilson delight in this light conspiracy thriller – https://theconversation.com/down-cemetery-road-emma-thompson-and-ruth-wilson-delight-in-this-light-conspiracy-thriller-269536