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The Impossible Object of Sex: My talk with Alenka Zupančič

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Alenka Zupančič

How psychoanalysis reveals the fractures in subjectivity that structure desire, sex, and identity

What does it mean to claim that psychoanalysis is inherently feminist? How can the unconscious, that most enigmatic of terrains, illuminate the contingency at the heart of symbolic authority? And in what ways do desire, subjectivity, and gender refuse simple classification, persistently disrupting our frameworks for understanding human behaviour, culture, and technology? These questions are not idle speculation but the threads that guide the work of Alenka Zupančič, a thinker whose engagement with psychoanalysis, philosophy, and culture continues to challenge conventional approaches to understanding human life. Her reflections compel us to reconsider what it means to be a subject, how we negotiate our desires, and how symbolic structures—cultural, social, and linguistic—mediate our experience of the world.

Alenka Zupančič, a Slovenian philosopher and psychoanalyst, has long been a key mind in contemporary thought, particularly in exploring the intersections between Lacanian psychoanalysis and philosophy, cultural critique, and feminist theory. Her work on desire, subjectivity, comedy, and ethics exemplifies a conceptual rigor that refuses simplification, insisting instead on attending to the structural gaps, paradoxes, and contradictions that define human experience. In her approach, psychoanalysis is not merely a clinical tool but a conceptual lens, one that illuminates the fractures and instabilities inherent in both individual and collective life. As she notes in her reflections, the very act of engaging with psychoanalysis is an intervention in thought itself: it is a mode of thinking, not simply a repository of knowledge or an explanatory framework.

I spoke with her a few months ago, and our discussion compelled me to revisit it repeatedly, reflecting on how to translate her ideas into a concise column. Every word she spoke carries the weight of the nuances that shape our understanding of life. Here, I have attempted to summarize what she shared in response to a series of questions I posed.

Zupančič begins by clarifying the nature of the relationship between psychoanalysis and philosophy, insisting that they are intimately connected yet distinct. “They are not one and the same thing, obviously,” she says, explaining that psychoanalysis emerges from its clinical practices, whereas philosophy constitutes a form of engagement that is itself a practice. To be a philosopher, she explains, is to “engage in a certain process of thinking, and of thinking about thinking,” a disciplined activity that develops concepts rather than subscribes to a predetermined worldview. Psychoanalysis, she emphasizes, is not merely another philosophy. It is “a singular discourse that has, or can have, the power to disrupt philosophy and philosophical thinking from within, orient it in a different way.” By this she means that psychoanalysis acts as an internal perturbation—a “clinamen”—that re-configures conceptual terrain, offering new ways of approaching traditional philosophical concepts such as the subject, truth, and the real.

Crucially, Zupančič stresses that the transformative potential of psychoanalysis does not lie in adding a psychological dimension to philosophy. Lacan’s insistence that “psychoanalysis is not psychology” highlights this distinction. What Freud and Lacan reveal, she explains, is the unconscious as a process, a form of thinking in its own right. “Thinking is very much part and parcel of the unconscious and its ‘work’ (Freud uses the word ‘Arbeit’),” she observes, underscoring that unconscious processes are structured, active, and meaningful in ways that exceed conscious comprehension. The Lacanian subject is not a hidden agent behind these processes; rather, it is “the name of this very split in thinking, suggesting that I also think where I am not, where I do not exist as subject of these thoughts, where I say ‘this is not me’.” The goal of analysis, therefore, is not to claim ownership over unconscious thoughts but to inhabit the radical division in which they exist.

This conception of subjectivity extends naturally to questions about human experience in the modern world. Zupančič distinguishes between two ways of conceiving the subject. The first treats subjectivity as roughly synonymous with the individual, shaped by social, cultural, and technological forces. In this view, “as ‘subjectivities’ we are a result of all kinds of structures and discourses,” and our experiences and choices are deeply conditioned by external frameworks. Yet she also proposes a more nuanced conception: the subject as a “symptom or blind spot of the discursivity as such, its inherent split.” Here, the subject is not the causal origin of contradictions or inconsistencies but their conceptual marker, the way in which gaps in discursivity become apparent. Freud’s encounter with hysterical symptoms exemplifies this perspective: hysteria is not simply a distortion of perception or a personal flaw but a response to structural deadlocks in reality. Zupančič observes, “Hysteria points to a – displaced – objective problem, it tells us something about the reality in which it emerges.” The subject emerges in and through these structural fractures, not as an autonomous agent but as a reflection of the incompleteness and tension embedded in social and psychic life.

Desire, in Lacanian theory, is similarly central to understanding human motivation, and Zupančič provides a detailed account of its mechanics. She characterizes desire as “absolutely central, nodal” because it unites heterogeneous registers—physiological, social, and linguistic. Desire emerges when a need is articulated to another, producing a margin between the object that satisfies the need and the demand for recognition or response. This margin, she stresses, constitutes “the field of desire proper,” a space that is neither fully object-oriented nor reducible to immediate satisfaction. Desire differs fundamentally from need: while need seeks cessation, closure, or the fulfilment of deprivation, desire thrives in incompleteness. As Zupančič explains, “Desire… aims precisely at the difference, the gap between what we demand and what we get.”

The objects of desire are thus not intrinsically significant; they acquire meaning insofar as they mediate the gap that constitutes desire itself. Fantasy plays a critical role in structuring this gap, providing an “armature” through which desire can articulate itself. Yet desire remains oriented toward absence rather than fulfillment, and the satisfaction of desire lies not in possessing a concrete object but in maintaining the relational space that makes desire intelligible. Zupančič emphasizes that desire’s central characteristic is this non-coincidence: it is “the object-cause” of the gap, a domain of its own, irreducible to immediate gratification.

Zupančič’s reflections on comedy illustrate how psychoanalytic insights extend into cultural critique. Comedy, she argues, is not merely a genre but a method of apprehending contradictions in human life. The most effective comedy is one that “takes its own lightness very seriously,” creating imaginative spaces in which objects of critique are dismantled without succumbing to mockery or derision. Direct mockery, she warns, often collapses under the gravity of its object, whereas comedy that constructs its own conceptual universe reveals human contradictions with subtlety and precision. Comedy, she notes, is deeply embodied, a form of wit that manifests bodily and psychic tensions. Importantly, it reveals the paradoxical nature of human finitude: “There is comedy because this finitude itself is not waterproof… it is as if our finitude had a leak in it.” Human finitude, she insists, is never simple or unproblematic; it is always marked by gaps, inconsistencies, and structural vulnerabilities, and comedy thrives in this space, exposing the failures and ruptures in our attempts to inhabit a coherent existence.

Ethics, too, is re-conceived through a psychoanalytic lens. Zupančič highlights the inseparability of ethical reflection from structural tensions in discourse. She emphasizes that ethics emerges from what Lacan identifies as the inherent surplus or heterogeneity within social bonds: “there is no discourse or social bond that does not involve a surplus, heterogeneous element.” Ethics, therefore, is not a matter of straightforward moral rules but an engagement with the irreducible inconsistencies, contradictions, and gaps that define relational and social life. Lacanian ethics illuminates how these structural tensions generate the conditions for ethical reflection, prompting us to confront rather than resolve the conflicts inherent in human experience.

Zupančič’s discussion of gender and sexuality similarly foregrounds gaps and structural ambiguities. While gender is often ascribed at birth based on anatomy, she stresses that conflicts arise primarily when drive sexuality becomes operative. Drawing on Freud and Laplanche, she notes the paradoxical temporality of sexual development: “What is acquired through the drives precedes what is innate and instinctual… at the time it emerges in puberty, instinctual sexuality… finds the seat already taken, as it were, by infantile drives, already and always present in the unconscious.” Gender, she argues, is fundamentally a question of identification rather than identity. Identification is a strategy to frame and stabilise the gaps at the core of sexuality, encompassing unconscious drives, desire, and enjoyment. She stresses, “Identification – even when I identify with this or that feature in the other – is never simply about that feature, it is about the void or gap that this feature helps me to frame, make sense of, to incorporate in my being.”

This insight extends to psychoanalysis’ engagement with feminist and queer theory. Zupančič observes that these fields are far from homogenous, with some theorists using psychoanalysis as a critical tool and others as an object of critique. She argues that Lacan’s formulation of the phallus exposes contingency in the symbolic order: “The importance of phallus comes not from those who have it, but from those who don’t… Its appearing against the background of its possible lack or non-being is precisely what accounts for the symbolic rather than simply the anatomic character of the phallus.” The phallus is defined by absence rather than presence, revealing the hidden contingencies underlying social hierarchies and symbolic authority. Psychoanalysis, she maintains, provides the conceptual framework for articulating these structures, challenging simplistic readings of power, gender, and desire while offering new avenues for critique and understanding.

Zupančič also reflects on emerging trends in psychoanalytic research, emphasizing conceptual innovation and reactivation. While new universal concepts may be rare, she highlights the ongoing potential to reinterpret existing ideas in novel ways. Lacan’s engagement with Freud exemplifies this, transforming clinical insights into living theoretical constructs. She notes promising areas of inquiry, including intersections with politics, ideology critique, and explorations of artificial intelligence. In particular, she recognises the work of Slavoj Žižek as exemplary in demonstrating psychoanalysis’ reach beyond the clinic. As she notes, “For example, a very important and unique branch of ‘ideology critique’ has been developed in the works of Slavoj Žižek, which differs from most standard accounts.” Zupančič emphasizes that Žižek’s approach illuminates contradictions and tensions inherent in social and political structures, showing how psychoanalytic concepts can interrogate ideology and reveal inconsistencies often overlooked by conventional analysis. His work exemplifies the ongoing vitality of psychoanalytic thought as a conceptual practice capable of reshaping our understanding of society, politics, and culture.

In addition to ideological critique, Zupančič highlights emerging research into artificial intelligence, noting its potential to transform our understanding of subjectivity and desire. While still in the early stages, she suggests that psychoanalytic tools can help us trace how technological mediation reshapes our psychic and social life, illuminating the new forms of gaps, contradictions, and split that emerge in human subjectivity under digital conditions.

Zupančič articulates a vision of psychoanalysis as a lens for understanding the irreducible complexities of human existence. From the structure of desire to the paradoxes of comedy, from gender identification to the ethical tensions of social life, her work foregrounds the gaps, contradictions, and structural ambiguities that define human experience. In her account, psychoanalysis is not simply a clinical tool but a philosophical practice, a method of conceptual investigation capable of revealing the hidden frameworks that shape thought, subjectivity, and social relations. It is in these structural voids and inconsistencies, she suggests, that both human vulnerability and conceptual insight reside.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa ✍️



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The NPP Government is more than a JVP offspring:

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Rohana Wijeweera

It is also different from all past governments as it faces new and different challenges

No one knows whether the already broken ceasefire between the US and Iran, with Israel as a reluctant adjunct, will last the full 10 days, or what will come thereafter. The world’s economic woes are not over and the markets are yo-yoing in response to Trump’s twitches and Iran’s gate keeping at the Strait of Hormuz. The gloomy expert foretelling is that full economic normalcy will not return until the year is over even if the war were to end with the ceasefire. That means continuing challenges for Sri Lanka and more of the tough learning in the art of governing for the NPP.

The NPP government has been doing what most governments in Asia have been doing to cope with the current global crisis, which is also an Asian crisis insofar as oil supplies and other supply chains are concerned. What the government can and must do additionally is to be totally candid with the people and keep them informed of everything that it is doing – from monitoring import prices to the timely arranging of supplies, all the details of tender, the tracking of arrivals, and keeping the distribution flow through the market without bottlenecks. That way the government can eliminate upstream tender rackets and downstream hoarding swindles. People do not expect miracles from their government, only honest, sincere and serious effort in difficult circumstances. Backed up by clear communication and constant public engagement.

But nothing is going to stop the flow of criticisms against the NPP government. That is a fact of Sri Lankan politics. Even though the opposition forces are weak and have little traction and even less credibility, there has not been any drought in the criticisms levelled against the still fledgling government. These criticisms can be categorized as ideological, institutional and oppositional criticisms, with each category having its own constituency and/or commentators. The three categories invariably overlap and there are instances of criticisms that excite only the pundits but have no political resonance.

April 5 anniversary nostalgia

There is also a new line of criticism that might be inspired by the April 5 anniversary nostalgia for the 1971 JVP insurrection. This new line traces the NPP government to the distant roots of the JVP – its April 1965 founding “in a working-class home in Akmeemana, Galle” by a 22-year old Rohana Wijeweera and seven others; the short lived 1971 insurrection that was easily defeated; and the much longer and more devastating second (1987 to 1989) insurrection that led to the elimination of the JVP’s frontline leaders including Wijeweera, and brought about a change in the JVP’s political direction with commitment to parliamentary democracy. So far, so good, as history goes.

But where the nostalgic narrative starts to bend is in attempting a straight line connection from the 1965 Akmeemana origins of the JVP to the national electoral victories of the NPP in 2024. And the bend gets broken in trying to bridge the gap between the “founding anti-imperialist economics” of the JVP and the practical imperatives of the NPP government in “governing a debt-laden small open economy.” Yet this line of criticism differs from the other lines of criticism that I have alluded to, but more so for its moral purpose than for its analytical clarity. The search for clarity could begin with question – why is the NPP government more than a JVP offspring? The answer is not so simple, but it is also not too complicated.

For starters, the JVP was a political response to the national and global conditions of the 1960s and 1970s, piggybacking socialism on the bandwagon of ethno-nationalism in a bi-polar world that was ideologically split between status quo capitalism and the alternative of socialism. The NPP government, on the other hand, is not only a response to, but is also a product of the conditions of the 2010s and 2020s. The twain cannot be more different. Nothing is the same between then and now, locally and globally.

A pragmatic way to look at the differences between the origins of the JVP and the circumstances of the NPP government is to look at the very range of criticisms that are levelled against the NPP government. What I categorize as ideological criticisms include criticisms of the government’s pro-IMF and allegedly neo-liberal economic policies, as well as the government’s foreign policy stances – on Israel, on the current US-Israel war against Iran, the geopolitics of the Indian Ocean, and the apparent closeness to the Modi government in India. These criticisms emanate from the non-JVP left and Sinhala Buddhist nationalists.

Strands of nationalism

To digress briefly, there are several strands in the overall bundle of Sri Lankan nationalism. There is the liberal inclusive strand, the left-progressive strand, the exclusive Sinhala Buddhist Nationalist (SBN) strand, and the defensive strands of minority nationalisms. Given Sri Lanka’s historical political formations and alliances, much overlapping goes on between the different strands. The overlapping gets selective on an issue by issue basis, which in itself is not unwelcome insofar as it promotes plurality in place of exclusivity.

Historically as well, and certainly after 1956, the SBN strand has been the dominant strand of nationalism in Sri Lanka and has had the most influential say in every government until now. Past versions of the JVP frequently straddled the dominant SBN space. Currently, however, the dominant SBN strand is in one of its more dormant phases and the NPP government could be a reason for the current dormancy. This is an obvious difference between the old JVP and the new NPP.

A second set of criticisms, or institutional criticisms, emanate from political liberals and human rights activists and these are about the NPP government’s actions or non-actions in regard to constitutional changes, the future of the elected executive presidency, the status of provincial devolution and the timing of provincial council elections, progress on human rights issues, the resolution of unfinished postwar businesses including the amnesia over mass graves. These criticisms and the issues they represent are also in varying ways the primary concerns of the island’s Tamils, Muslims and the Malaiyaka (planntationn) Tamils. As with the overlapping between the left and the non-minority nationalists, there is also overlapping between the liberal activists and minority representatives.

A third category includes what might be called oppositional criticisms and they counterpose the JVP’s past against the NPP’s present, call into question the JVP’s commitment to multi-party democracy and raise alarms about a creeping constitutional dictatorship. This category also includes criticisms of the NPP government’s lack of governmental experience and competence; alleged instances of abuse of power, mismanagement and even corruption; alleged harassment of past politicians; and the failure to find the alleged mastermind behind the 2019 Easter bombings. At a policy and implementational level, there have been criticisms of the government’s educational reforms and electricity reforms, the responses to cyclone Ditwah, and the current global oil and economic crises. The purveyors of oppositional criticisms are drawn from the general political class which includes political parties, current and past parliamentarians, as well as media pundits.

Criticisms as expectations

What is common to all three categories of criticisms is that they collectively represent what were understood to be promises by the NPP before the elections, and have become expectations of the NPP government after the elections. It is the range and nature of these criticisms and the corresponding expectations that make the NPP government a lot more than a mere JVP offspring, and significantly differentiate it from every previous government.

The deliverables that are expected of the NPP government were never a part of the vocabulary of the original JVP platform and programs. The very mode of parliamentary politics was ideologically anathema to the JVP of Akmeemana. And there was no mention of or concern for minority rights, or constitutional reforms. On foreign policy, it was all India phobia without Anglo mania – a halfway variation of Sri Lanka’s mainstream foreign policy of Anglo mania and India phobia. For a party of the rural proletariat, the JVP was virulently opposed to the plantation proletariat. The JVP’s version of anti-imperialist economics would hardly have excited the Sri Lankan electorate at any time, and certainly not at the present time.

At the same time, the NPP government is also the only government that has genealogical antecedents to a political movement or organization like the JVP. That in itself makes the NPP government unique among Sri Lanka’s other governments. The formation of the NPP is the culmination of the evolution of the JVP that began after the second insurrection with the shedding of political violence, acceptance of political plurality and commitment to electoral democracy.

But the evolution was not entirely a process of internal transformation. It was also a response to a rapidly and radically changing circumstances both within Sri Lanka and beyond. This evolution has not been a rejection of the founding socialist purposes of the JVP in 1968, but their adaptation in the endless political search, under constantly changing conditions, for a non-violent, socialist and democratic framework that would facilitate the full development of the human potential of all Sri Lankans.

The burden of expectations is unmistakable, but what is also remarkable is their comprehensiveness and the NPP’s formal commitment to all of them at the same time. No previous government shouldered such an extensive burden or showed such a willing commitment to each and every one of the expectations. In the brewing global economic crisis, the criticisms, expectations and the priorities of the government will invariably be focussed on keeping the economy alive and alleviating the day-to-day difficulties of millions of Sri Lankan families. While what the NPP government can and must do may not differ much from what other Asian governments – from Pakistan to Vietnam – are doing, it could and should do better than what any and all past Sri Lankan governments did when facing economic challenges.

by Rajan Philips

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A Fragile Ceasefire: Pakistan’s Glory and Israel’s Sabotage

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Smokes over Beirut: Israel’s Ceasefire Attack on Hezbollah in Lebanon

After threatening to annihilate one of the planet’s oldest civilizations, TACO* Trump chickened out again by grasping the ceasefire lifeline that Pakistan had assiduously prepared. Trump needed the ceasefire badly to stem the mounting opposition to the war in America. Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu wanted the war to continue because he needed it badly for his political survival. So, he contrived a fiction and convinced Trump that Lebanon is not included in the ceasefire. Trump as usual may not have noticed that Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Shariff had clearly indicated Lebanon’s inclusion in his announcement of the ceasefire at 7:50 PM, Tuesday, on X. Ten minutes before Donald Trump’s fake deadline.

True to form on Wednesday, Israel unleashed the heaviest assault by far on Lebanon, reportedly killing over 300 people, the highest single-day death toll in the current war. Iran responded by re-closing the Strait of Hormuz and questioning the need for talks in Islamabad over the weekend. There were other incidents as well, with an oil refinery attacked in Iran, and Iranian drones and missiles slamming oil and gas infrastructure in UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Qatar.

The US tried to insist that Lebanon is not part of the ceasefire, with the argumentative US Vice President JD Vance, who was in Budapest, Hungary, campaigning for Viktor Orban, calling the whole thing a matter of “bad faith negotiation” as well as “legitimate misunderstanding” on the part of Iran, and warning Iran that “it would be dumb to jeopardise its ceasefire with Washington over Israel’s attacks in Lebanon.”

But as the attack in Lebanon drew international condemnation – from Pope Leo to UN Secretary General António Guterres, and several world leaders, and amidst fears of Lebanon becoming another Gaza with 1,500 people including 130 children killed and more than a million people displaced, Washington got Israel to stop its “lawn mowing” in southern Lebanon.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu agreed to “open direct negotiations with Lebanon as soon as possible,”. Lebanese President Joeseph Aoun has also called for “a ceasefire between Israel and Lebanon, followed by direct negotiations between them.” Israel’s involvement in Lebanon remains a wild card that threatens the ceasefire and could scuttle the talks between the US and Iran scheduled for Saturday in Islamabad.

Losers and Winners

After the ceasefire, both the Trump Administration and Iran have claimed total victories while the Israeli government wants the war to continue. The truth is that after more than a month into nonstop bombing of Iran, America and Israel have won nothing. Only Iran has won something it did not have when Trump and Netanyahu started their war. Iran now has not only a say over but control of the Strait of Hormuz. The ceasefire acknowledges this. Both Trump and Netanyahu are under fire in their respective countries and have no allies in the world except one another.

The real diplomatic winner is Pakistan. Salman Rushdie’s palimpsest-country has emerged as a key player in global politics and an influential mediator in a volatile region. Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Chief of Defence Field Marshal Asim Munir have both been praised by President Trump and credited for achieving the current ceasefire. The Iranian regime has also been effusive in its praise of Pakistan’s efforts.

It is Pakistan that persisted with the effort after initial attempts at backdoor diplomacy by Egypt, Pakistan and Türkiye started floundering. Sharing a 900 km border and deep cultural history with Iran, and having a skirmish of its own on the eastern front with Afghanistan, Pakistan has all the reason to contain and potentially resolve the current conflict in Iran. Although a majority Sunni Muslim country, Pakistan is home to the second largest Shia Muslim population after Iran, and is the easterly terminus of the Shia Arc that stretches from Lebanon. The country also has a mutual defense pact with Saudi Arabia that includes Pakistan’s nuclear cover for the Kingdom. An open conflict between Iran and Saudi Arabia would have put Pakistan in a dangerously awkward position.

It is now known and Trump has acknowledged that China had a hand in helping Iran get to the diplomatic table. Pakistan used its connections well to get Chinese diplomatic reinforcement. Pakistani Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar flew to Beijing to brief his Chinese counterpart and secured China’s public support for the diplomatic efforts. The visit produced a Five-Point Plan that became a sequel to America’s 15-point proposal and the eventual ten-point offer by Iran.

There is no consensus between parties as to which points are where and who is agreeing to what. The chaos is par for the course the way Donald Trumps conducts global affairs. So, all kudos to Pakistan for quietly persisting with old school toing and froing and producing a semblance of an agreement on a tweet without a parchment.

It is also noteworthy that Israel has been excluded from all the diplomatic efforts so far. And it is remarkable, but should not be surprising, the way Trump has sidelined Isreal from the talks. Prime Minister Netanyahu has been enjoying overwhelming support of Israelis for starting the war of his life against Iran and getting the US to spearhead it. But now the country is getting confused and is exposed to Iranian missiles and drones far more than ever before. The Israeli opposition is finally coming alive realizing what little has Netanyahu’s wars have achieved and at what cost. Israel has alienated a majority of Americans and has no ally anywhere else.

It will be a busy Saturday in Islamabad, where the US and Iranian delegations are set to meet. Iran would seem to have insisted and secured the assurance that the US delegation will be led by Vice President Vance, while including Trump’s personal diplomats – Steve Witkoff and son-in-law Jared Kushner. Iran has not announced its team but it is expected to be led, for protocol parity, by Iran’s Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, and will likely include its suave Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi. Vice President Vance’s attendance will be the most senior US engagement with Iran since Secretary of State John Kerry negotiated the 2015 nuclear deal under President Obama.

The physical arrangements for the talks are still not public although Islamabad has been turned into a security fortress given the stakes and risks involved. The talks are expected to be ‘indirect’, with the two delegations in separate rooms and Pakistani officials shuttling between them. The status of Iran’s enriched uranium and the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz will be the major points of contention. After Netanyahu’s overreach on Wednesday, Lebanon is also on the short list

The 2015 nuclear deal (the Joint Comprehensive Action Plan) took months of negotiations and involved multiple parties besides the US and Iran, including China, France, Germany, UK, Russia and the EU. That served the cause of regional and world peace well until Trump tore up the deal to spite Obama. It would be too much to expect anything similar after a weekend encounter in Islamabad. But if the talks could lead to at least a permanent ceasefire and the return to diplomacy that would be a huge achievement.

(*As of 2025–2026, Donald Trump is nicknamed “TACO Trump” by Wall Street traders and investors as an acronym for “”. This term highlights a perceived pattern of him making strong tariff threats that cause market panic, only to later retreat or weaken them, causing a rebound.)

by Rajan Philips

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CIA’s hidden weapon in Iran

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We are passing through the ten-day interregnum called a ceasefire over the War on Iran. The world may breathe briefly, but this pause is not reassurance—it is a deliberate interlude, a vacuum in which every actor positions for the next escalation. Iran is far from secure. Behind the veneer of calm, external powers and local forces are preparing, arming, and coordinating. The United States is unlikely to deploy conventional ground troops; the next moves will be executed through proxies whose behaviour will defy expectation. These insurgents are shaped, guided, and amplified by intelligence and technology, capable of moving silently, striking precisely, and vanishing before retaliation. The ceasefire is not peace—it is the prelude to disruption.

The Kurds, historically instruments of Tehran against Baghdad, are now vectors for the next insurgency inside Iran. This movement is neither organic nor local. It is externally orchestrated, with the CIA as the principal architect. History provides the blueprint: under Mohammad-Reza Shah Pahlavi, Kurdish uprisings were manipulated, never supported out of sympathy. They were instruments of leverage against Iraq, a way to weaken a rival while projecting influence beyond Iran’s borders. Colonel Isa Pejman, Iranian military intelligence officer who played a role in Kurdish affairs, recalled proposing support for a military insurgency in Iraq, only for the Shah to respond coldly: “[Mustafa] Barzani killed my Army soldiers… please forget it. The zeitgeist and regional context have been completely transformed.” The Kurds were pawns, but pawns with strategic weight. Pejman later noted: “When the Shah wrote on the back of the letter ‘Accepted’ to General Pakravan, I felt I was the true leader of the Kurdish movement.” The seeds planted then are now being activated under new, technologically empowered auspices.

Iran’s geographic vulnerabilities make this possible. The Shah understood the trap: a vast territory with porous borders, squeezed by Soviet pressure from the north and radical Arab states from the west. “We are in a really terrible situation since Moscow’s twin pincers coming down through Kabul and Baghdad surround us,” he warned Asadollah Alam. From Soviet support for the Mahabad Republic to Barzani’s dream of a unified Kurdistan, Tehran knew an autonomous Kurdish bloc could destabilize both Iraq and Iran. “Since the formation of the Soviet-backed Mahabad Republic, the Shah had been considerably worried about the Kurdish threat,” a US assessment concluded.

Today, the Kurds’ significance is operational, not symbolic. The CIA’s recent rescue of a downed F-15 airman using Ghost Murmur, a quantum magnetometry system, demonstrated the reach of technology in intelligence operations. The airman survived two days on Iranian soil before extraction. This was not a simple rescue; it was proof that highly mobile, technologically augmented operations can penetrate Iranian territory with surgical precision. The same logic applies to insurgency preparation: when individuals can be tracked through electromagnetic signatures, AI-enhanced surveillance, and drones, proxy forces can be armed, guided, and coordinated with unprecedented efficiency. The Kurds are no longer pawns—they are a living network capable of fracturing Iranian cohesion while providing deniability to foreign powers.

Iran’s engagement with Iraqi Kurds was always containment, not empowerment. The Shah’s goal was never Kurdish independence. “We do not approve an independent [Iraqi] Kurdistan,” he stated explicitly. Yet their utility as instruments of regional strategy was undeniable. The CIA’s revival of these networks continues a long-standing pattern: insurgent groups integrated into the wider calculus of international power. Israel, Iran, and the Kurds formed a triangular strategic relationship that terrified Baghdad. “For Baghdad, an Iranian-Israeli-Kurdish triangular alliance was an existential threat,” contemporary reports noted. This is the template for modern manipulation: a networked insurgency, externally supported, capable of destabilizing regimes from within while giving foreign powers plausible deniability.

Iran today faces fragility. Years of sanctions, repression, and targeted strikes have weakened educational and scientific hubs; Sharif University in Tehran, one of the country’s leading scientific centres, was bombed. Leaders, scholars, and innovators have been eliminated. Military readiness is compromised. Generations-long setbacks leave Iran exposed. Against this backdrop, a Kurdish insurgency armed with drones, AI-supported surveillance, and precision munitions could do more than disrupt—it could fracture the state internally. The current ten-day ceasefire is a mirage; the next wave of revolt is already being orchestrated.

CIA involvement is deliberate. Operations are coordinated with allied intelligence agencies, leveraging Kurdish grievances, mobility, and ethnolinguistic networks. The Kurds’ spread across Iran, Iraq, Turkey, and Syria provides operational depth—allowing insurgents to strike, vanish, and regroup with impunity. Barzani understood leverage decades ago: “We could be useful to the United States… Look at our strategic location on the flank of any possible Soviet advance into the Middle East.” Today, the calculation is inverted: Kurds are no longer instruments against Baghdad; they are potential disruptors inside Tehran itself.

Technology is central. Ghost Murmur’s ability to detect a single heartbeat remotely exemplifies how intelligence can underpin insurgent networks. Drones, satellite communications, AI predictive modeling, and battlefield sensors create an infrastructure that can transform a dispersed Kurdish insurgency into a high-precision operation. Iran can no longer rely on fortifications or loyalty alone; the external environment has been recalibrated by technology.

History provides the roadmap. The Shah’s betrayal of Barzani after the 1975 Algiers Agreement demonstrated that external actors can manipulate both Iranian ambitions and Kurdish loyalties. “The Shah sold out the Kurds,” Yitzhak Rabin told Kissinger. “We could not station our troops there and keep fighting forever,” the Shah explained to Alam. The Kurds are a pivot, not a cause. Networks once acting under Tehran’s influence are now being repurposed against it.

The insurgency exploits societal fissures. Kurdish discontent in Iran, suppressed for decades, provides fertile ground. Historical betrayal fuels modern narratives: “Barzani claimed that ‘Isa Pejman sold us out to the Shah and the Shah sold us out to the US.’” Intelligence agencies weaponize these grievances, pairing them with training, technological augmentation, and covert support.

Geopolitically, the stakes are immense. The Shah’s defensive-offensive doctrine projected Iranian influence outward to neutralize threats. Today, the logic is inverted: the same networks used to contain Iraq are being readied to contain Iran. A technologically augmented Kurdish insurgency, covertly backed, could achieve in months what decades of sanctions, diplomacy, or repression have failed to accomplish.

The operation will be asymmetric, high-tech, and dispersed. UAVs, quantum-enhanced surveillance, encrypted communications, and AI-directed logistics will dominate. Conventional Iranian forces are vulnerable to this type of warfare. As Pejman reflected decades ago, “Our Army was fighting there, rather than the Kurds who were harshly defeated… How could we keep such a place?” Today, the challenge is magnified by intelligence superiority on the insurgents’ side.

This is not a temporary flare-up. The CIA and its allies are constructing a generational network of influence. Experience from Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon proves these networks endure once operationalised. The Shah recognized this: “Iran’s non-state foreign policy under the Shah’s reign left a lasting legacy for the post-Revolution era.” Today, those instruments are being remade as vectors of foreign influence inside Iran.

The future is stark. Iran faces not simply external threats, but a carefully engineered insurgency exploiting historical grievances, technological superiority, and precise intelligence. The Kurds are central. History, technology, and geopolitical calculation converge to create a transformative threat. Tehran’s miscalculations, betrayals, and suppressed grievances now form the lattice for this insurgency. The Kurds are positioned not just as an ethnic minority, but as a vector of international strategy—Tehran may be powerless to stop it.

Iran’s containment strategies have been weaponized, fused with technology, and inverted against it. The ghosts of Barzani’s Peshmerga, the shadows of Algiers, and the Shah’s strategic vision now converge with Ghost Murmur, drones, and AI. Tehran faces a paradox: the instruments it once controlled are now calibrated to undermine its authority. The next Kurdish revolt will not only fight in the mountains but in the electromagnetic shadows where intelligence operates, consequences are lethal, and visibility is scarce.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

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