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

In the autumn of 1985, when I was a student at the Patrice Lumumba Peoples’ Friendship University in Moscow, the air across the Soviet Union carried a peculiar mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. The Brezhnev years (1964-1982) had left behind a weary bureaucracy and a cautious society.

Yet, with the arrival of ‘perestroika’ [restructuring] and ‘glasnost’ [openness] under Mikhail Gorbachev, conversations once whispered in kitchens began to surface in lecture halls and student dormitories. Among the names that circulated with particular reverence was that of Roy Medvedev.

For curious students like myself — foreigners navigating the labyrinth of Soviet intellectual life in the mid-1980s — Medvedev represented something unusual: a historian who remained a socialist, even a Marxist, yet refused to excuse the crimes committed in the name of socialism. In a country where dissent often came at the price of exile or imprisonment, he attempted something rarer still — criticism from within the tradition itself.

Roy Medvedev, who died in February this year, lived through nearly the entire Soviet century — and spent most of it insisting it be remembered honestly. Naazir Mahmood looks at the life of a historian who showed that his discipline’s most valuable service is not reinforcing official myths but questioning them…

A FAMILY SHAPED BY THE PURGES

Roy Medvedev, who died in Moscow in February 2026 aged 100, spent most of his life trying to reconcile faith in socialist ideals with an unsparing examination of Soviet history. His work made him suspect to Soviet authorities and controversial among anti-communist critics abroad. Yet, for decades, he remained one of the most respected independent historians to emerge from the Soviet system.

Medvedev was born in 1925 in Tbilisi, then part of Soviet Georgia. His family’s fate reflected the brutal oscillations of the Soviet experiment. His father, a committed communist intellectual, was arrested during the Great Purge (1936-1938) and later died in a labour camp. The tragedy left an indelible mark on Roy and his twin brother, the biologist Zhores Medvedev.

Such an experience might have pushed him into outright opposition to the Soviet state. Instead, it led him down a more complicated path. Medvedev never abandoned socialism as an ideal. Rather, he devoted his life to exposing how those ideals had been corrupted under Joseph Stalin. This position — critical yet intellectually loyal to the broader socialist project — made him difficult to categorise. He was neither a conventional dissident nor an obedient party historian.

THE HISTORIAN WHO CHALLENGED STALIN

Medvedev’s reputation rested, above all, on his monumental study of Stalinism, Let History Judge. He wrote it in the 1960s. It circulated clandestinely in the Soviet Union before being published abroad in 1971. It was among the earliest systematic critiques of Stalin’s rule, produced by a Soviet historian.

In the book, Medvedev rejected the official mythology surrounding Stalin, while insisting that socialism itself should not be condemned because of Stalin’s crimes. Stalinism, in his reading, was not the inevitable outcome of socialism but its distortion.

For Soviet readers accustomed to sanitised historical narratives, the book was revelatory. It documented purges, fabricated trials and political terror in meticulous detail, drawing on testimonies, documents and personal recollections.

Medvedev insisted that the revolution of 1917 had not been destined to produce tyranny. The tragedy of the Soviet Union, he pointed out, was that a revolution carried out in the name of the people eventually came to distrust those very people.

Such arguments were radical in the intellectual climate of the 1960s. The authorities reacted harshly. In 1969, Medvedev was expelled from the Communist Party. Yet he remained committed to reforming socialism rather than abandoning it altogether — a position that puzzled many Western observers, accustomed to viewing Soviet dissent in stark ideological terms.

For Medvedev, the issue was moral as much as political. The crimes of Stalinism had to be exposed, he believed, not to destroy socialism but to rescue it from falsification. A society that fears its own history, he argued, cannot build a just future.

A NAME WHISPERED IN SOVIET CORRIDORS

When I first encountered Medvedev’s name in the mid-1980s, it was spoken almost conspiratorially. Soviet students often referred to books and essays that circulated through unofficial channels — samizdat [clandestinely circulated] copies passed from hand to hand. At the time, the Soviet Union still maintained an elaborate system of censorship, though this began to loosen after Mikhail Gorbachev came to power in 1985.

Libraries guarded their collections carefully; some works could only be consulted with special permission. Yet ideas travelled nonetheless. Medvedev’s writings were among those quietly discussed in dormitory rooms and student cafés. Their significance lay as much in intellectual stance as in content.

Medvedev showed that one could criticise Stalin without renouncing the broader socialist tradition. For a foreign student observing Soviet society from within, this was illuminating. The Soviet Union was often portrayed abroad as intellectually monolithic. In reality, it contained a rich undercurrent of debate — careful, coded and persistent.

Perestroika and rehabilitation

The arrival of Gorbachev transformed Medvedev’s position. As the Soviet leadership encouraged historical reassessment during the late 1980s, historians who had once been marginalised were suddenly being vindicated. Medvedev’s insistence that Stalinism represented a deviation rather than an inevitability resonated strongly with the new political climate.

It felt as though the Soviet Union was finally rediscovering its suppressed history — however briefly. Medvedev became a prominent public intellectual and later served as a deputy in the Soviet parliament during the reform era.

The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 presented a new challenge. For a historian who had spent decades defending the possibility of democratic socialism, the disintegration of the state raised difficult questions.

Unlike many former Soviet intellectuals who embraced Western liberalism, Medvedev remained cautious. He believed the Soviet experiment had failed, but continued to argue that socialism as an ideal retained relevance.

Over the decades he produced a remarkable body of work — studies of Stalinism, biographies of Soviet figures such as Nikita Khrushchev and Nikolai Bukharin and, later, reflections on Russia’s turbulent transition during the Boris Yeltsin era. His tone remained measured rather than polemical. Even critics acknowledged the seriousness of his scholarship.

HISTORY AS CONSCIENCE

Medvedev’s life spanned nearly the entire Soviet century — from its consolidation under Stalin to its collapse and aftermath. Few historians were so personally entangled with the events they analysed. He believed that a society must confront its past honestly. As he argued in Let History Judge, the falsification of history was among the most damaging legacies of Stalinism.

Historical truth — even when uncomfortable — is essential for political and moral renewal. For a student wandering the corridors of Soviet universities in the mid-1980s, that lesson felt both daring and hopeful. Decades later, it remains no less relevant.

Indeed, Medvedev’s example carries an important message far beyond Russia. In many parts of the world, history remains a battlefield, where political power seeks to impose its preferred narrative of the past. The pattern he identified — power rewriting the past to serve the present — is hardly unique to Russia. South Asia offers striking illustrations.

In Bangladesh, the interpretation of the liberation struggle has often shifted with political change; the ouster of Sheikh Hasina has once again reopened debates about how the events of 1971 should be remembered. In India, the rise of Hindu nationalist politics has produced sustained attempts to reshape historical interpretation, particularly in school textbooks, recasting the Subcontinent’s past as a civilisational conflict between Hindus and Muslims.

Pakistan presents another version of the same dilemma. For decades, official narratives — especially those found in Pakistan Studies textbooks — have offered a selective account of the Subcontinent’s past, designed largely to justify the two-nation theory.

Medvedev’s life suggests that historians perform their most valuable service not by reinforcing official myths but by questioning them. A nation confident in itself does not fear historical scrutiny.

The willingness to confront uncomfortable truths may be the surest sign of intellectual maturity. As Medvedev understood better than most, the writing of history is never merely an academic exercise. It is also a moral responsibility.

The writer is a columnist, educator and film critic. He can be contacted at mnazir1964@yahoo.co.uk.
X: @NaazirMahmood

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