When Babylon fell to the armies of Cyrus the Great in 539 BCE, the world witnessed not just the collapse of an empire but the birth of a new vision of rule.

For the Jews exiled in Babylon, this Persian conqueror was no ordinary king. He was a liberator, remembered in scripture as “the Lord’s anointed” — the only non-Jew ever to be given the title of Messiah in the Hebrew Bible.

This remarkable episode — where a Persian monarch enabled the rebuilding of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem — remains one of history’s most fascinating encounters between two ancient civilisations. It is a story of exile and return, of empire and faith, and of how tolerance can shape legacies that endure for millennia.

The Exile and the Promise of Return

The Jews had been living under the shadow of Babylonian captivity since 586 BCE, when King Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the First Temple [Solomon’s Temple] in Jerusalem and deported thousands to Babylon. For decades, their identity was tested in foreign lands, their rituals suppressed, their hopes dimmed.

When Cyrus the Great defeated Babylon, he handed the exiled Jews something they had not had in decades…

Then came Cyrus. In a sweeping campaign, he conquered Babylon and issued a decree that allowed displaced peoples — including the Jews — to return to their homelands. For the Jewish community, this was nothing short of miraculous. The Book of Ezra records his edict: “The Lord, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth… and he has appointed me to build a temple for him at Jerusalem in Judah.”

A King Unlike Others

What made Cyrus different from other conquerors? Unlike rulers who sought to erase local traditions, Cyrus embraced diversity. His empire stretched across vast lands, yet he allowed subject peoples to worship freely and govern themselves in matters of faith.

The famous Cyrus Cylinder, an ancient clay cylinder inscribed in Akkadian cuneiform and discovered in Babylon, describes his policy of restoring temples and returning exiled communities — a vision of rule that resonates with modern ideas of human rights.

For the Jews, Cyrus was not just a political figure but a spiritual saviour. The prophet Isaiah even described him as chosen by God to deliver Israel. This intertwining of Persian statecraft and Jewish theology created a bond that shaped both traditions.

The Second Temple: A Symbol of Renewal

The return of the Jews to Jerusalem was more than a physical journey; it was a spiritual rebirth. By 516 BCE, the Jews had rebuilt the Second Temple, a structure that would stand for centuries as the heart of Jewish worship. This temple became a symbol of resilience, a reminder that exile could be overcome and faith restored.

Persian support for the project was crucial. By granting resources and protection, Cyrus ensured that the Jews could re-establish their religious life. In return, Jewish prayers even invoked blessings for the Persian kings — a rare acknowledgment of foreign rulers in Jewish liturgy.

Cultural Crossroads

The Persian-Jewish encounter was not only political but cultural. Scholars note that, during this period, Jewish thought absorbed influences from Persian religion, particularly Zoroastrianism. Concepts such as angels, demons and eschatology found echoes in Jewish writings. At the same time, Persian administration introduced systems of governance that shaped Jewish communal organisation.

This exchange highlights how civilisations, even when unequal in power, can enrich one another. The Jews preserved their identity, but they also adapted, integrating elements that would later define their theology.

Lessons for Today

Why does this ancient story matter now? Because it offers a model of leadership rooted in respect. Cyrus’ policies remind us that empires need not thrive on suppression; they can endure by embracing diversity. His vision stands in stark contrast to rulers who sought uniformity through force.

In a world still grappling with questions of coexistence, the Persian-Jewish relationship is a reminder that tolerance is not weakness — it is strength. It shows how faith and empire can coexist, how liberation can come from unexpected quarters and how respect can leave legacies that outlast conquest.

A Forgotten Chapter Worth Remembering

For readers in South Asia, this story resonates deeply. Our own histories are filled with exiles, migrations and encounters between civilisations. The tale of Cyrus and the Jews is not just about antiquity — it is about the timeless human quest for dignity and belonging.

Cyrus the Great remains a towering figure in both Persian and Jewish memory. To the Jews, he was the king who gave them back their temple. To the Persians, he was the founder of an empire built on vision and tolerance. To us today, he is a reminder that leadership, when tempered with humanity, can change the course of history.

The writer is a researcher with a focus on history and anthropology. He is also the founder of the Clifton Urban Forest, Karachi. X: @masoodlohar

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 12th, 2026

Marvel and DC have been captivating the world with their superheroes and supervillains for almost a century. Characters such as Spider-Man (Marvel) and Superman (DC) are global household names, whose recognition rivals that of world leaders.

For most of their history, Marvel and DC have gone toe-to-toe in comics, cartoons, TV and films. In 2008, Marvel made a breakthrough with its Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), an ongoing series of interconnected films and TV shows. Overall, it is the highest-grossing film franchise in history, with 2019’s Avengers: Endgame also being the highest-grossing franchise film ever made.

Forced to compete, DC responded with its own cinematic universe (2013-23) that featured Man of Steel (2013), Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016), Justice League (2017) and The Suicide Squad (2021). But it flopped both commercially and critically, forcing an abrupt ending in 2023 with Aquaman And The Lost Kingdom.

Now, in 2026, DC is attempting a revival. The home of Batman and Superman is launching a brand new cinematic universe, with director James Gunn leading the charge. The flagship Superman film was released in 2025, featuring David Corenswet in the lead role, and Supergirl is dropping this July.

Four reasons why the new DC cinematic universe may fail (again)

In total, 23 new films and shows have been announced, and DC is on a media blitz promoting its comeback. The timing could not have been better; Marvel is reeling from its own string of disappointments, such as 2021’s Eternals, 2023’s The Marvels, and 2025’s Thunderbolts*, all of which performed rather poorly at the box office given their big budgets.

Can DC pull it off this time around? My ongoing research into mega-franchises such as Marvel, DC and Warhammer, suggests not. One of the reasons is DC’s failure to understand the psychology of mega-franchise consumers, even after Marvel’s multi-year success from 2008 onwards, and DC’s own failures. Below are four research-backed issues that could start posing serious problems for DC soon.

1. LACK OF STYLISTIC DIVERSITY

James Gunn is the genius director who gave Marvel the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise, its much praised (and highly successful) comic relief. His 2025 Superman for DC shared the same light-hearted humour and quirky dialogue. And going by the trailer, this year’s Supergirl looks to be similar in tone.

However, a universe cannot be built on quirkiness alone. Dozens of fans I interviewed uniformly praised the impeccable variety of styles that Marvel has managed to deliver since 2008. Some films are darkly funny (Deadpool), and some are dead serious (Eternals). And Marvel is very good at shuffling styles to keep viewers perpetually entertained.

This roller-coaster unpredictability is what drives the success of mega-franchises. If every film was just another spin on Guardians of the Galaxy, consumers could quickly lose interest.

2. GETTING THE PACING WRONG

Last year’s Superman barraged consumers with a cavalcade of characters from DC’s roster, including Superman himself, but also Mister Terrific, Green Lantern, Metamorpho and Hawkgirl, to name a few. Which means that DC is doing what it did in 2017, when its Justice League film introduced several major characters all at once.

In contrast, my research shows that fans prefer slower pacing, where characters are introduced first on their own and then aggregated into major spectacles such as Marvel’s Avengers. If the pacing is more measured, consumers cultivate an emotional stake in the characters’ stories. But if dozens of characters are introduced at the same time without proper grounding, who can blame audiences for not caring enough?

3. OVER-RELIANCE ON OBSCURE CHARACTERS

Mega-franchises thrive on huge rosters of characters. However, it is important to first focus on just a few popular characters to get that “I know them!” effect. Here, Marvel did an excellent job promoting its biggest heroes first. Its first film featured the iconic Iron Man, quickly followed by mainstays such as Captain America, Hulk and Thor. They already existed in the popular consciousness — which is exactly what Marvel counted on.

In this regard, DC’s release schedule leaves much to be desired. A few major characters (Aquaman) are meshed with minor episodic villains (Clayface) and obscure heroes that have not seen major action in decades (Sergeant Rock).

Meanwhile, one of DC’s biggest characters, Batman, is not even getting his own film (the 2022 film starring Robert Pattinson was not part of this DC universe, but something called DC Elseworlds). If consumers refuse to become comic book nerds to enjoy a two-hour flick, whose problem is it?

4. THE MISSING ‘BIG PICTURE’

Mega-franchises such as Marvel and DC are famous for their massive life-or-death dramas. This is what drives audience engagement and gives a mega-franchise its purpose.

As my interviewees attest, the fact that such a purpose emerged early on in Marvel’s oeuvre is what made it successful. From the start, audiences knew that everything was leading to the Avengers team-up. And, when The Avengers was released, it established Thanos as the archenemy and ensured that all threads led to him. The resulting film, 2019’s Avengers: Endgame, tied everything together in a massive spectacle that also happens to be the highest-grossing franchise film in history.

For now, the new DC universe can’t see the wood for the trees. As such, last year’s flagship film Superman did not seem to establish any major threats, cosmic events, supervillain archenemies, or any meaningful connection to any upcoming characters, except Supergirl. Instead, it opted for a local conflict between Superman and his arch-rival Lex Luthor. And, looking at the upcoming releases, it appears that the Justice League (DC’s version of Marvel’s Avengers) film is not even on the list.

Releasing a bunch of seemingly unrelated superhero offerings harks back to the early 2000s, when both Marvel and DC tried to reinterpret various characters in a series of disconnected standalone films. With audiences accustomed to major interconnected film sagas, this approach will not suddenly work in 2026. If audiences don’t know where the road is going (and, with mega-franchises, it is a long road), who can blame them for not taking it?

While DC’s comeback is sorely needed, the odds are that the current version is just not it. However, DC has always found ways to rebound, and it is still an iconic brand, adored by millions (myself included). Like many fans, I await with bated breath to see how this new universe expands — or not.

The writer is Lecturer in Marketing at the University of Bath in the UK

Republished from The Conversation

Published in Dawn, ICON, April 12th, 2026

Hasan Raheem’s latest offering to the world, ‘Bewajah’ [Without Reason], is a song that is food for the melophile soul. It pushes boundaries and experiments with electronic layering in both music and vocals. The song’s production is as beautifully complex as the messaging in the poetry it uses.

I love the experimental, avant-garde nature of Raheem’s work in ‘Bewajah’. I suspect that most people may not love the song at first, but will grow to do so over time.

‘Bewajah’ is a song that feels both intimate and deeply rooted in place. Known for blending contemporary pop with the sonic textures of his northern heritage, Raheem continues to carve a space where modern longing meets the cultural memory of Gilgit-Baltistan.

‘Bewajah’ unfolds as a melancholic dialogue — two perspectives suspended in emotional limbo. Built on sparse, traditional percussion and a stripped-back melodic structure, the song leans into stillness, allowing the weight of unsaid words to linger. Raheem’s vocal delivery is restrained yet piercing, echoing the isolation of mountain landscapes that seem to inform both his sound and sensibility.

In his latest single, ‘Bewajah’, Hasan Raheem transforms a story of love and miscommunication into something far more expansive that is rooted in the language, landscapes and traditions of Gilgit-Baltistan

What makes this track interesting is that the producer, Umair Tahir, has layered several tracks of percussion over each other — one even sounds oddly similar to the galloping sound of horses’ hooves. The vocal tracks are layered over each other, making the song sound like something out of a vivid dream, wherein one reality merges into another.

The first verse introduces a man who chooses separation over inevitable betrayal, portraying a relationship starved of emotional reassurance. His longing is quiet but persistent; he waits, he hopes and, ultimately, he withdraws. His reference to his partner’s sarkashi [rebellion] suggests not just defiance, but a kind of emotional distance he cannot bridge.

The narrative then pivots. In a mirrored monologue, a woman’s lyrical persona interrogates the relationship from her own vantage point — questioning whether love ever truly existed. Her grief is sharper, edged with accusation. She speaks of unmet needs, of carrying the burden of his unresolved pain, and ultimately reframes the break-up as his failure to stay emotionally present.

What elevates ‘Bewajah’ beyond a conventional break-up ballad is its linguistic and cultural layering. Raheem weaves in Shina (a language spoken in Gilgit-Baltistan) during the bridge — a deliberate artistic choice that grounds the song in his heritage. In doing so, he not only expands the sonic palette of Pakistani pop but also introduces wider audiences to a language and cultural identity often underrepresented in mainstream media.

Across his work, Raheem has quietly positioned himself as a cultural conduit, bringing elements of Gilgiti life — its rhythms, dialects and emotional landscapes — into the national consciousness. The music video deepens this connection to the place.

Set against the dramatic backdrop of northern Pakistan, it centres on a game of polo — not the manicured, codified version familiar to global audiences, but the raw, high-altitude freestyle variant played in the mountains. This form of polo, most famously showcased at the Shandur Polo Festival, is often described as the “game of kings” in its most primal form: no referees, minimal rules and an intensity that mirrors both the terrain and the people.

Polo itself carries centuries of history, tracing back to ancient Central Asia before evolving across regions such as Persia, Tibet and the northern areas of present-day Pakistan. In Shandur Pass — home to one of the highest polo grounds in the world — the sport becomes more than a game; it is a cultural ritual, a communal gathering, and a symbol of identity. By situating ‘Bewajah’ within this setting, Raheem draws a powerful parallel between the chaos of the sport and the emotional turbulence of love and loss.

Visually, the contrast is striking. Dressed in white and subtly adorned, Raheem stands apart from the largely black-clad crowd, embodying both observer and participant. As horses thunder across the field and snow-capped peaks loom in the distance, his introspection gives way to immersion — suggesting that, like the players, he too is caught in something uncontrollable.

In promoting the video, Raheem made it a point to highlight that this is not the “gentrified” version of polo seen internationally, but a freer, more visceral form. His invitation to audiences — to witness it in person, to understand it — feels consistent with his broader artistic mission: to not just make music, but to open windows into a culture often overlooked.

In that respect, Raheem has always left little easter eggs in his music and social media presence that pay homage to his heritage and culture in Gilgit-Baltistan.

In ‘Joona’, for example, he performs a verse in Shina in the middle of the song. In ‘Sweetu’, he is seen walking on the streets of Gilgit-Baltistan with his co-artists. His wedding, which went viral, showed him never missing an opportunity to perform his traditional dance and celebrate the unique colours of his culture. In his own way, he constantly promotes and educates people about his culture. Gilgit-Baltistan couldn’t have asked for a better ambassador.

With ‘Bewajah’, Raheem doesn’t just tell a story of heartbreak. He situates it within geography, language and tradition… reminding listeners that even the most personal emotions are shaped by where we come from.

The writer is a former member of staff.
She can be reached at syed.madeeha@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, ICON, April 12th, 2026