Category: Academic Analysis

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Michael Martin, Lecturer in Urban Design and Planning, University of Sheffield

Children play everywhere. Yet their right to play – protected by a UN convention – is constantly challenged by adults.

Play is crucial to support children’s holistic development in cognitive, emotional, physical and social skills. Likewise, we know children’s environments significantly influence their health and wellbeing, for better or worse.

But across cities, young people are let down by a built environment that fails to appropriately consider their needs.

Places where children commonly used to play, such as streets and local neighbourhoods, have been transformed into car-only spaces where traffic and parking take priority. Likewise, city spaces frequently “design out” children by prohibiting skateboarding, ball games and other kinds of play.

Over time, urban planning has confined children’s opportunities for play to dedicated playground spaces only.

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However, children don’t have equal access to these formal play spaces. In the largest study of playgrounds in England, my colleagues and I found substantial inequalities in access to play. Children in the most deprived areas needed to travel further to their nearest playground.

In new research, I’ve explored four international examples of how children and play can be promoted in less likely urban spaces. My findings show how play can be promoted in cities to support children’s right to play anywhere – but also that there is widespread hostility to children’s right to use urban spaces for play.

Power of play

In Sydney, a pedal park installation with temporary jumps, ramps and a pump track was set up in different car parks for the duration of the winter. In Paris, a play street was created in central Paris by closing road traffic on Friday afternoons in autumn and spring.

In Belfast, temporary play equipment and playful street furniture was set up in the Cathedral Gardens public space.

In Milan, a community-led design involved children in creating a colourful grid, planters, growing beds and games in a school car park, which went on to inspire a new municipal programme of temporary school streets and piazzas.

These play spaces allowed children to play freely, play with objects, play pretend, play games with rules, and play physically – the core pillars of play. What’s more, they enabled children to develop new connections with their community by appropriating urban spaces to promote relaxation and fun. This was vital following the trauma of the global pandemic – all the projects were active during COVID-19 outside of lockdown.

These short-term projects invited children to enjoy urban life in new ways. In fact, they bolstered civic access for people of all generations. In Sydney, the closure of the car park fostered a new sense of community. Caregivers, grandparents and residents were able to connect with each other in a whole different setting.

Politics of play

But despite the positives, over time, the projects faced protest and tension. In Milan, fears from residents emerged on play being used as a tool to displace poorer communities. This was in response to the area having long been earmarked for regeneration. In Sydney, Paris and Belfast, people actively targeted and sabotaged the informal play spaces.

In Sydney, to park their cars, older citizens successfully lobbied local councillors to reduce the total amount of space for play, from the entire car park to one aisle of parking. In Paris, local businesses were exasperated by the presence of children. Collectively they threatened project initiators and staged a protest, claiming that “play streets kill local shops”. In Belfast, the pop-up play space was set on fire, multiple times. By summer 2022, much of the park had been destroyed.

The outcomes demonstrate the politics that children, and their play, were exposed to. Because of a range of aggressive behaviour from adults, children’s use of streets and public spaces were consistently restricted. A common statement from dissenters was “children can go elsewhere”. The reality is they can’t.

In tracking informal play projects through the pandemic and subsequent years, two additional factors hampered their longer-term success. For the council projects in Sydney and Belfast, council officers hoped to direct more resources to urban play, but the lack of a specific local policy to support play was a significant constraint. By comparison, the community projects in Paris and Milan placed an unsustainable pressure on volunteers to ensure prolonged success.

Lessons from previous crises highlight how tensions and conflict can affect innovative uses of space, often diluting their progressive purpose. Ultimately, children’s play in recovery from the pandemic experienced a similar fate.

This is worrying because Unicef research has shown children’s wellbeing has continued to suffer after COVID-19.

Places that allow for children’s play can create dynamic neighbourhoods, intergenerational encounters, and meaningful participation in urban spaces – if only we let it happen.

Michael Martin 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 to give children the freedom to play all across the city – not just in playgrounds – https://theconversation.com/how-to-give-children-the-freedom-to-play-all-across-the-city-not-just-in-playgrounds-260444

Source: The Conversation – UK – By David Hastings Dunn, Professor of International Politics in the Department of Political Science and International Studies, University of Birmingham

At face value, Donald Trump’s announcement about his plans on Russia and Ukraine look like a major policy change. Speaking from the Oval Office on July 14, where he had been meeting with Nato secretary general Mark Rutte, the US president said he would send “top-of-the-line-weapons” to help Kyiv and – unless a ceasefire deal is agreed inside a 50-day time limit – the US would impose secondary sanctions on any countries dealing with Russia.

But while this represents a significant departure from Trump’s previous approach, it’s more of a step back towards the policy approach of his predecessor Joe Biden than the U-turn that some commentators are claiming.

For months Russia has stepped up its bombardment of Ukraine, buoyed by the fact that neither the US Congress nor the White House has authorised any new military aid to Kyiv. Moscow would have been aware of this lack of US action and its missile and drone attacks against Ukraine have aimed to run down the stocks of air defence missiles supplied by Biden while paying lip service to the idea of peace negotiations.

For Trump the penny appears finally to have dropped as to what was happening. His frustration and disappointment in Putin is what has finally led to him calling this out. According to Trump, Putin “fooled a lot of people – Clinton, Bush, Obama, Biden – he didn’t fool me. At a certain point talk doesn’t talk, it’s got to be action”.

The decision to send new supplies of defensive – and potentially even longer-range offensive missiles – to Ukraine (even if the Europeans pay for them) is an important signal to Russia. But so too is the threat of tariffs of 100% on countries, such as India and China, that sustain the Russian economy by buying its oil and gas at knockdown prices.

The US senate, led by Lindsay Graham, the influential Republican senator for South Carolina, has been itching to pass these secondary sanctions for months. Now that the Trump administration appears to have adopted this plan it is a significant policy instrument to pile the pressure on Russia.

The change in Trump’s approach may also mean that the $US8 billion (£6 billion) of frozen Russian assets in the US (and US$223 billion in Europe) could be released to aid Ukraine, which would provide a ready means to pay for the US arms transfers.

Limits to US support

What has not changed, however, is the goal of Trump’s policy towards the war in Ukraine. While the Biden administration called out the illegality of Putin’s unprovoked aggression and called for the restoration of Ukrainian sovereignty, Trump is merely calling for a ceasefire.

Trump may say he is “disappointed” with Putin, but he has not labelled him as the aggressor. In fact at one point he was blaming Ukraine for the invasion. And, significantly, he has not demanded that Russia give up the 20% of Ukraine that it currently illegally occupies.

The US president is also silent on what the US would commit to in terms of security and stability for Ukraine after the fighting stops. This is a much bigger question than Ukraine’s Nato membership. America’s European allies in Nato regard some sort of stability force on Ukrainian territory as necessary to deter any future Russian aggression.

Whether or not US troops would be involved (and all the signs are that they would not), some sort of US security “back-stop” or guarantee is still seen in Europe as key to its success – as would be US logistical and intelligence support for its operation.

But why the 50-day delay?

Another aspect of the change in Trump’s policy is the long lead time that Russia has been given to come to the table. A lot of Ukrainian civilians are likely to die during this period if the intense bombardment continues. On the battlefield, 50 days would give the Russians an extended window during a renewed summer offensive to make further territorial gains inside the occupied provinces.

So Trump’s proposals have to be viewed through the prism of his propensity to set deadlines that are then pushed back multiple times – as with the on-again, off-again tariffs, which have given Trump the nickname Taco (“Trump always chickens out”) on Wall Street.

Russian senator, Konstantin Kosachev, was certainly taking this view when he told the BBC after Trump’s announcement that, “if this is all Trump had to say about Ukraine today, then so far it’s been much ado about nothing”.

This sentiment was shared by the Russian stock market which rose 2.7% in the aftermath of Trump’s announcement. Analysts had expected much worse, so the long delay in the prospect of anything actually happening was clearly seen as a long way off and potentially subject to change or cancellation. Trump is seen by many as both inconsistent in his threats and unpredictable as to where policy will eventually settle.

The fact that Trump told BBC Washington correspondent Gary O’Donoghue that while he was “disappointed” with Putin, he was “not done with him” – and his clear reluctance to act quickly and decisively in sanctioning Russia – should be seen as an important counterpart to the apparent policy shift.

Like so many things with the 47th US president, it’s important not to react to the media appearances or the headlines they provoke, without also paying attention to the policy actions of his administration.

David Hastings Dunn has previously received funding from the ESRC, the Gerda Henkel Foundation, the Open Democracy Foundation and has previously been both a NATO and a Fulbright Fellow.

– ref. What Trump’s decision to send more weapons to Ukraine will mean for the war – https://theconversation.com/what-trumps-decision-to-send-more-weapons-to-ukraine-will-mean-for-the-war-261192

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Gulshanara (Rumy) Begum, Senior Lecturer in Nutrition & Exercise Science, University of Westminster

Energy drinks are big business. Marketed as quick fixes for fatigue and performance dips, energy drinks are especially popular among young people, athletes, sports enthusiasts, and so-called “weekend warriors” – people who pack their workouts into the weekend instead of exercising regularly. Gamers are now a major target too.

But as the market grows, so do concerns about what’s actually in these drinks – and what these ingredients might be doing to our bodies.

Many energy drinks contain some combination of three familiar stimulants: caffeine, found naturally in coffee, tea and cacao; guarana, an Amazonian plant rich in caffeine; and taurine, a naturally occurring amino acid found in scallops, mussels, turkey and chicken.

Taurine, in particular, has drawn both hype and hope. It is credited with performance-enhancing properties and potential health benefits. But new research is raising important questions about how it behaves in the body – and when it might do more harm than good.

In May 2025, a study published in Nature sparked headlines and unease in equal measure. It found that taurine may fuel the progression of leukaemia, a group of blood cancers that begin in the bone marrow.

The study showed that while healthy bone marrow cells naturally produce taurine, leukaemia cells cannot. But they can absorb taurine from their surroundings and use it as a fuel source to grow and multiply. Research on mice and in human leukaemia cell samples demonstrated that taurine in the tumour microenvironment – the area around a tumour that includes blood vessels, immune cells and structural support – accelerated the progression of leukaemia.

Crucially, when researchers blocked taurine uptake by leukaemia cells (using genetic techniques), cancer progression slowed significantly. The authors suggest taurine supplements could potentially worsen outcomes in people with leukaemia and propose that developing targeted ways to block taurine uptake by cancer cells might offer a new treatment strategy.

Taurine: friend or foe?

Taurine is one of the most abundant free amino acids in the human body, found in especially high concentrations in the heart, muscles and brain. In healthy people, it’s mainly obtained through diet, but the body can also synthesise taurine from the amino acids methionine and cysteine, provided it has enough vitamin B6, which is found in foods such as salmon, tuna, chicken, bananas and milk.

Most people consuming a typical western diet take in 40mg–400mg of taurine a day from food alone. This figure refers only to taurine that is directly ingested, not including the additional amount the body can synthesise internally, which may vary depending on age, diet and health.

Taurine is listed on the Food and Drug Administration’s (FDA’s) generally recognised as safe (GRAS) database, and according to the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA), it’s safe to consume up to six grams per day. By comparison, a serving of Red Bull or Monster contains around one gram – comfortably below that threshold.

Despite recent concerns about a possible link to blood cancer progression, taurine isn’t inherently harmful. In fact, some people may benefit from supplementation, especially those receiving long-term parenteral nutrition, where nutrients are delivered directly into the bloodstream because the gut isn’t working properly. People with chronic liver, kidney or heart failure may also have trouble producing or holding on to enough taurine, making supplementation helpful in specific clinical settings.

Ironically, some research suggests taurine may actually help reduce the side effects of chemotherapy in leukaemia patients – even as emerging studies raise concerns that it could also fuel the disease. This contradiction underscores how much context matters: the effects of taurine depend not just on dosage and delivery, but also on the patient’s underlying condition. What helps in one context, could harm in another.

But here’s the catch: taking taurine as a supplement for particular health reasons is very different from consuming large quantities through energy drinks, which often combine taurine with high levels of caffeine and sugar. This combination can put strain on the heart, interfere with sleep and increase the risk of side effects, particularly for people with underlying health conditions or those taking other stimulants.

The latest research raises important questions about whether taurine-heavy products could be harmful in some cases, especially for people with, or at risk of, blood cancers.

So, should you worry?

According to the current evidence, if you’re a healthy adult who occasionally sips an energy drink, there’s little cause for alarm. But moderation is key. Consuming multiple high-taurine drinks daily or taking taurine supplements (without prior professional consultation), on top of a taurine-rich diet might not be wise, especially if future research confirms links between taurine and cancer progression.

Until more is known, the safest approach would be to enjoy your energy boosts by consuming a nutritious diet rather than consuming energy drinks. If you have any underlying health conditions – or a family history of cancer – it’s always best to consult a healthcare professional before diving into taurine supplementation or consumption of energy drinks.

Gulshanara (Rumy) Begum 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. Taurine could power your energy drink – and maybe cancer cells too. Here’s what you need to know – https://theconversation.com/taurine-could-power-your-energy-drink-and-maybe-cancer-cells-too-heres-what-you-need-to-know-256957

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Pavan Mano, Lecturer in Global Cultures, King’s College London

The Bank of England has announced a redesign of its banknotes and invited the public to suggest new themes that might feature on them. Victoria Cleland, the Bank of England’s chief cashier, said this was as “a symbolic representation of our collective national identity and an opportunity to celebrate the UK”.

Even though they can appear like the unifying symbols Cleland suggests, my research shows that there are contradictions that surround many national symbols. They are not as unifying as they might seem. In fact, in many cases they also work to exclude people.

For a long time, there has been a persuasive argument about belonging and the nation. As one of the grand theorists of the nation, Benedict Anderson, once put it, the nation is an “imagined political community”.

The idea here is that the nation is simply a collection of people who form a community together, something larger than themselves. And national symbols are supposed to represent this community. As such, national symbols are often taken as markers of belonging.

But what is often overlooked is the exclusionary element of the nation. In my book, Straight Nation, I show how for some people to belong to a nation, others must be portrayed as not belonging. It can be difficult to pinpoint exactly how one belongs to the nation; it is far easier to point at someone else and declare that they do not.

The invitation to contribute to the redesign will therefore show two things. It will tell us how the country sees itself. It will also demonstrate the contradictions around national symbols and the exclusions they can produce. The former perhaps more straightforward than the latter.

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How does England see itself?

In theory, the banknote is a perfectly neat national symbol. It is an object that is only valid within the borders of the state it is issued in, so the images printed on it can be treated as representations of the nation. Current notes feature images of historically significant characters: former prime minister Sir Winston Churchill, author Jane Austen, painter J.M.W. Turner and scientist Alan Turing.

Indeed, the Bank of England has suggested that images should not be “divisive”. In other words, they need to be as inclusive as possible. But in the current political environment, far-right politics and division have become extremely commonplace both globally and closer to home.

In the US, the current administration has squarely taken aim at diversity, equity and inclusion programmes and launched a massive wave of deportations. Across much of western Europe, far-right parties are going from strength to strength.

In the UK, rightwing Reform has emerged as the party that would win the most seats if a general election were held this year. The current prime minister, Keir Starmer, recently gave a speech where he warned the UK risked becoming an “island of strangers” without tougher immigration policies.

Amid these political currents, it will be interesting to see which themes and images are eventually chosen to adorn the new banknotes from the consultation which closes at the end of July. The designs will be instructive not least because they will show how how the current climate translates onto these notes as well as how the country sees itself.

For instance, there has never been a person of colour and only three women have previously featured on a banknote. It would be a a long time coming if this were to change.

The exclusions at the heart of national symbols

Perhaps more importantly, however, is the ironic contradiction around asking for the public’s views on banknotes when banknotes are disappearing from public view.

At the start of this year, Lloyds Banking Group announced it would be closing 136 of its high street banks. This follows a broader trend. Since 2015, banks have closed more than 6,000 branches, and the number of cash machines has fallen by more than 7,000 between June 2021 and June 2024.

Banking is becoming increasingly digital and carried out through a smartphone app. A growing number of establishments have gone entirely cashless.

Many people are affected by this, including those with disabilities, older people, those living in rural areas and small businesses. Not only is cash no longer king, it is barely in the building.

When it is redesigned, the new banknote will be released into an environment where it is less used and, in a growing number of establishments that have gone entirely cashless, will be almost entirely unwelcome.

National belonging is often romanticised. There is a sense that nationalism and unity go hand in hand, and that the nation is simply a basin of belonging. National symbols are portrayed as a matter of pride.

We do not know yet what designs they will bear when the crisp new banknotes are issued. But we do know that they will be issued in decreasing quantities and many people will find it harder to get their hands on them. That captures the contradictions of national symbols, and the exclusions they produce.

Pavan Mano 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. England’s redesigned banknotes will reveal how the country sees itself – https://theconversation.com/englands-redesigned-banknotes-will-reveal-how-the-country-sees-itself-260842

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Samuel Fairlamb, Senior Lecturer, Department of Psychology, Royal Holloway University of London

In September 2023, so many people were shocked when the famous Sycamore Gap tree, thriving in a dip along Hadrian’s Wall, was deliberately cut down overnight. For many, the tree symbolised British resilience, heritage and an enduring history. The public response was swift and intense, with widespread outrage and grief over the loss of this cultural landmark.

The two men convicted of felling the Sycamore Gap tree have been sentenced to four years and three months in prison. Meanwhile, the tree lives on thanks to an AI-generated alternate world in the film 28 Years Later.

As a psychologist, I’m interested in what inspired such a strong reaction to the destruction of a single tree. One psychological explanation, known as “terror management theory”, suggests that the emotional response reflects deeper anxieties about death – and not just about this tree.

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Terror management theory, developed by psychologists Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg and Tom Pyszczynski, builds on the work of cultural anthropologist Ernest Becker, author of the Pulitzer prize-winning The Denial of Death (1973).

This book’s central idea is simple yet profound. In it, Becker proposes that our awareness of mortality creates the potential for considerable existential anxiety.

To manage this, we rely on cultural worldviews. These are our belief systems. These worldviews can be religious, secular, political or national. They all share a promise that life is meaningful and offer prescriptions for how we should live. When we live in accordance with our cultural values and standards – whether by being a good parent, a loyal citizen or following religious texts – we gain a sense of self-esteem and feel we are contributing to something enduring and significant.

These worldviews also offer the promise of immortality. Some do so literally, as in religious faiths that promise life beyond death. Others offer symbolic immortality, through lasting achievements, family bloodlines, or the continuation of one’s nation. By embedding ourselves in these worldviews, we gain a sense that some part of us will continue after we die.

Cultural symbols such as flags, religious icons, or even a tree can embody our core values and collective identity and are therefore treated with deep reverence. Throughout history, people have waged wars and shown intense emotional reactions to the desecration of such symbols (burning the American flag or the Qur’an, for example).

The Sycamore Gap tree carried similar significance. As a centuries-old landmark, it came to represent Britain’s heritage, strength and continuity. From the perspective of terror management theory, its felling may have stirred strong reactions because it reminded people that even the symbols we rely on for a sense of permanence can be suddenly lost.

This sense of cultural loss is also echoed by other recent events, such as Brexit and the immigration crisis. A collective fear over the erosion of British values and traditions place questions about the loss of British identity at the centre of public consciousness.

Rooted in mortality

Decades of psychological research support this theory’s claims. One common method (a technique called “mortality salience”) involves making participants subtly aware of their mortality (control participants are not reminded of death).

In studies carried out in the 1990s, researchers found that when the solution to a task required desecrating a cultural symbol, such as using an American flag to separate ink from a jar of sand, participants reminded of death took longer to complete the task and experienced greater apprehension.

Hundreds of studies also show how being reminded of death can increase anger and hostility towards people who threaten or violate one’s cultural values. One line of research examining reactions to those who commit moral transgressions may be particularly appropriate to this case.

For instance, in one study, participants reminded of their own death were more likely to support harsher punishments for those who committed moral transgressions such as someone who destroyed an irreplaceable artefact (much like the cutting down of a tree). Other research has shown similar effects: participants (including judges!) when reminded of death gave out harsher penalties or sentencing for those who have committed a crime.

You might question whether these effects truly reflect death anxiety or if they could be explained without invoking a desire for immortality. Research may provide compelling evidence. One study found that reminders of death increased support for harsher punishments for moral transgressors (replicating the study mentioned earlier).

However, when participants were first presented with evidence of an afterlife, the effect of death increasing harsher punishments disappeared. In other words, the promise that death is not the end appeared to buffer from the anxiety that death arouses.

The fall of the Sycamore Gap tree was more than a loss of natural beauty. It was, for many, a symbolic attack on permanence, on meaning, and on shared identity. Yet while such losses can stir outrage and calls for punishment, research also shows that when people endorse prosocial values like empathy, reminders of death can actually foster forgiveness towards those who commit moral transgressions.

According to terror management theory, these responses are not just about anger, but about what it means to be human in the face of inevitable death. In this light, the tree’s felling uprooted something sacred: a collective continuity that gives meaning to our brief lives. As we grieve its loss, perhaps we’re also mourning something more elusive – the comforting illusion that some things might last forever.

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Samuel Fairlamb 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. Why the Sycamore Gap tree provoked such strong emotional reactions – a psychologist explains – https://theconversation.com/why-the-sycamore-gap-tree-provoked-such-strong-emotional-reactions-a-psychologist-explains-257165

Source: The Conversation – UK – By Millie Horton-Insch, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, History of Art Department, Trinity College Dublin

There was great excitement at the news this month that the Bayeux tapestry – the 11th-century embroidered epic depicting the conquest of England by William the Conqueror in 1066 – will go on display at the British Museum in 2026. However, the tapestry had already been in the news earlier this year, admittedly to much less fanfare.

In March, it was reported that a fragment of the Bayeux tapestry had been discovered in Germany in the Schleswig-Holstein state archives. To understand how it ended up there, we must turn to a troubling and little-known episode in the tapestry’s history: Sonderauftrag Bayeux (Special Operation Bayeux), a project operated by the Nazi Ahnenerbe, the SS regime’s heritage research group.

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It has often been observed that art seems to have been of disproportionate concern to the Nazis. However, their manipulation of visual and material culture should be understood as central to – not separate from – Hitler’s genocidal regime and its efforts towards global domination.

The Ahnenerbe, under the ultimate authority of Heinrich Himmler, was established to develop and disseminate histories in support of that mythology central to the Nazi regime: the supremacy of the Aryan race. To this end, the Ahnenerbe oversaw research that claimed to use unassailable scientific methods.

However, it has long been acknowledged that their projects consciously manipulated historical evidence to construct fabricated histories that would support racist ideologies. To achieve this, numerous research projects were conducted. These projects saw scholars travel across the globe in the pursuit of objects that could act as monuments to the mythologies of Aryan supremacy. Sonderauftrag Bayeux was one such project.

Nazi interest in the Bayeux tapestry may seem surprising to British people, where the tapestry is considered a symbol of a singularly significant moment in Britain’s history. However, just as politicians in modern Britain have found it tempting to reference the tapestry in the advancement of their political agendas, so too did the Ahnenerbe.

Sonderauftrag Bayeux aimed to produce a multi-volume study of the tapestry that would assert its inherently Scandinavian character. The objective was to present the tapestry as proof of the supremacy of the early medieval Norman people, whom the Ahnenerbe claimed as the ancestors of modern German Aryans and descendants of “Viking” northern Europeans.

By June 1941, work on Sonderauftrag Bayeux had begun in earnest. Among the team sent to Normandy to study the tapestry first hand was Karl Schlabow, a textile expert and head of the Germanic Costume Institute at Neumünster in Germany. Schlabow spent a fortnight in Bayeux, and it was he who removed a fragment of the tapestry’s backing fabric and brought it back to Germany when his research visit was complete.

Though initial reports suggested that Schlabow removed this fragment when the embroidery was later transferred by the Nazis to Paris, it is more likely that he did so during June 1941, when he and his fellow members of Sonderauftrag Bayeux were stationed in Bayeux.

In a sketch by Herbert Jeschke – the artist commissioned to create a painted reproduction of the tapestry – during this visit, Jeschke depicted himself with Schlabow and Herbert Jankuhn (the director of the project) hunched over the tapestry. The sketch is accompanied by the emphatic title, “Die Tappiserie!”, an expression of delight at their privileged viewing of this medieval masterpiece.

To join the Ahnenerbe, Schlabow, like others involved in the Sonderauftrag Bayeux, was inducted into the SS. He held the rank of SS-Unterscharführer (roughly the equivalent of a sergeant in today’s British army). After the second world war many members of the Ahnenerbe denied having sympathy for Nazi policies.

However, documents seized by US intelligence officers at the end of the second world war reveal that some were denied entry to the Ahnenerbe if they, for instance, had had Jewish friends or expressed sympathy towards communist ideas. They therefore had to (at least outwardly) appear sympathetic to Nazism to be inducted into its ranks.

Details of what exactly the Ahnenerbe project uncovered, or even hoped to uncover, from this study of the tapestry are opaque. It appears that, to a large extent, the act of producing an illustrated study and dispatching researchers to the original textile was enough to claim the object as a monument to Germanic Aryan supremacy. It is clear that perceived Scandinavian influence within the tapestry’s designs was to be central to the study’s conclusions, but the project was not completed before Germany’s defeat at the end of the war.

Like many other members of the Ahnenerbe, Schlabow returned to research after the war, working at the Schleswig-Holstein State Museum in Gottorf Castle.

The discovery of even the tiniest fragment of this remarkable medieval object is cause for much excitement. However, its recovery should be framed firmly in the context in which it was removed. It should come as no surprise that Schlabow felt empowered to steal this piece of the tapestry; the regime for which he worked claimed the object as a piece of his heritage, his birthright as an Aryan German.

This find is a timely reminder that the past is closer than we realise and that there is still much work to be done to explore the long shadows cast by previous practices in the histories we inherit. The recovered fragment is currently on display in Schleswig-Holstein, but will return to the Musée la Tapisserie de Bayeux in Normandy in time for the museum’s re-opening in 2027 when the two elements will be reunited for the first time since 1941.

Millie Horton-Insch receives funding from the Leverhulme Trust.

– ref. Why the Nazis stole a fragment of the Bayeux tapestry – https://theconversation.com/why-the-nazis-stole-a-fragment-of-the-bayeux-tapestry-260048