Based on my reading of the latest upscaling of US rhetoric, one of the military options being considered by the Israeli-American axis is the nuclear option. Refer Trump says a ‘whole civilization will die tonight’ if deal isn’t reached, One News, 8 April 2026.

The possibility of Netanyahu and Trump thinking this way would reflect a widely-held understanding that World War Two ended not only with the atomic bomb, but because of those nuclear strikes on Japan. In particular, the prevailing American narrative is that Little Boy and Fat Man saved the United States from having to make a ground invasion of Japan.

My sense is that if Israel and/or the United States go for a nuclear strike, soon or sooner, it will be on a city or some other quasi-military site in the northeast of Iran, closer to Afghanistan than to the present Persian Gulf warzone; away from the energy infrastructure of the Gulf.

Not only is the northeast the birthplace of the late Ayatollah Ali Khamanei, it is also the part of Iran which gave least support to President Masoud Pezeshkian in the 2024 presidential election. Pezeshkian, a former heart surgeon, was elected as a moderniser. In 2024 and 2025 he was committed to evolving Iran away from being a Shia theocracy and towards being a typical BRICS’ middle-range geopolitical power. (See my The Enigma of the Iranian President, Scoop, 27 March 2026.)

If we look at the map here – the second round of the 2024 Iranian presidential election – we see that Pezeshkian’s support was most in the more secular northwest and least in the more Islamist northeast. I suspect that the Axis’ military planning will be to inflict as much damage as possible – in one or a few dramatic strikes – on the present Iranian civilisation which draws heavily on Shia Islam; hence focussing on the Shia heartland.

Finally, here, I draw attention to the movie Don’t Look Up. In that movie, the threat was an asteroid, not a nuclear war. The key theme was the widespread dispassion that prevailed, especially in the mainstream media, towards a known and imminent catastrophe. In the case of a nuclear strike on Iran away from Tehran or the Gulf or the Pakistan border, the present lack of mainstream outrage at the aggressions of the last month will probably continue on and beyond the day after.

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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

One puzzling feature of the present Israel-Iran war is the almost complete absence of reference – in the western media at least – to the Iranian President, Masoud Pezeshkian.

The American president claimed that Israel had killed the Iranian President, but he was referring to the Supreme Leader. Killing Ali Khamenei, the Supreme Leader of Shia Islam – and, when he was alive, the Patriarch of Iran – was comparable to the assassination of Pope Leo or King Charles. (These last two are both ‘supreme leaders’, though neither of these two are anything like the administrative or military leader of a nation state; they are moral and morale leaders.) Iran’s President, Masoud Pezeshkian, is still very much alive; and would prefer to build bridges than bombs.

Admittedly, the Iranian constitution is somewhat complex – especially to casual western onlookers – having distinct power centres for religious, military, and civilian authority. Do we dismiss Pezeshkian simply because he is neither a ‘cleric’ nor a ‘revolutionary guard’? I think there is much more to our dismissal of him than some consideration that he’s unimportant.

Ali Khamenei was, during the 1980s, the third President of Iran. His two predecessors had fewer religious credentials than Khamanei, reflecting the comparatively secular nature of the role of president. Their presidencies were short-lived however; the first president was impeached in mid-1981, and his successor was assassinated by bombing four weeks later; revolutionary Iran was a tumultuous place.

President Khamenei clearly played a critical role in the 1980s’ Iran-Iraq War, from which Iran survived; unexpectedly to many, and stronger from having been tested through a war in which the western powers supported the other side and its president Saddam Hussein.

The Presidency of Iran is clearly a very important political role. Problematically for the West, who wishes to cast Iran as an anti-democracy, it’s a highly-contested democratically-elected position of power. Indeed the President has featured in most political news stories throughout the history of the Islamic Republic, at least until the election of the present president in 2024 (following the death of his predecessor, Ebrahim Raisi, in a helicopter crash).

In the 2024 election, Pezeshkian, the ‘progressive left’ candidate defeated Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf and Saeed Jalili, the ‘conservative right’ candidates. I heard recently that, when Ingrid Hipkiss asked who the Americans might negotiate with, given President Trump’s claim to have killed several tiers of Iranian leadership, the answer suggested by Simon Marks was Ghalibaf, who was high up in the regime and had even stood for president. Not a single mention of the actual President! (Refer Morning Report, RNZ 24 March 2026, Trump suspends strikes on Iran’s power plants.)

I would argue that Pezeshkian’s success was more reflective of popular preference than the other elections that year, which delivered Donald Trump in the United States and Keir Starmer in the United Kingdom. Both Trump and Starmer were widely disliked by their countries’ electorates (now even more disliked than in 2024), only winning because the only other options for political leadership were deemed by voters to be worse.

Pezeshkian, on the other hand, was a progressive and genuinely popular choice; not a person wanting to align Iran with the West, but a person wanting to build strong relationships. Through, for example, Iran joining the BRICSnetwork of economically powerful countries which favour geopolitical multipolarity rather than Western unipolarity. (See this picture of BRICS 2024, with Pezeshkian very prominent, and neither looking like a Shia cleric – as Raisi had looked – nor conforming with western dress codes.) He comes across as a statesman, certainly not a demagogue.

My take on the Iranian presidential enigma is this. Politics is substantially propaganda – aka ‘narrative’ – and geopolitics involves such messaging on a global scale. Much narrative is conducted through images rather than through words, and is largely shaped by which images are missing; propaganda is as much about deamplification of unwanted messages as it is about amplifying regime (and prevalent media) narratives.

President Pezeshkian does not present the imagery of smarminess (being unpleasantly suave) or of evilness or of rigid fundamentalism; he does not present the images that Israel and the West would like to portray in conveying their story about Iran. Rather, he presents as honest, pragmatic, constructive, and electable. He is quietly spoken. I have heard mention that one of Iran’s political strategies is the so-called good cop, bad cop strategy. If so, Pezeshkian is certainly the good cop. I think he is a good cop, period.

Pezeshkian is neither a clerical ideologue nor a shouty military spokesperson. He is not a newsreader with head covered, dressed all in black. Those are the images which western media push about Iran. Too moderate to assassinate; such grotesque (albeit routine) geopolitical violence would increase Pezeshkian’s profile in the West, which the West seems not to want. Better to just pretend he doesn’t exist, even though he’s the President. (Though some – including Al Jazeera’s Israeli-born political analyst, Marwan Bishara – suggest that Israel prefers to assassinate their more moderate opponents, given that such people [when alive and visible] might distract us from consuming Israel’s dehumanising narratives.)

To glean a semblance of truth in contentious times, you often have to hear what is not being said, and see what is not being shown. You have to look out for softly spoken messages; looking past caricatures and scapegoats, and looking past CAPITAL LETTERS and !!!

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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

One of the United States’ navy ships heading towards the Persian Gulf is the USS Tripoli. (USS = United States Ship.) How the heck did it get that name? (Will the next two United States’ naval ships be called the USS Abbottabad and the USS Santo Domingo?)

The answer will be a surprise to many. The American Revolution which began in 1776 was completed in 1783, with the British capitulation to the American patriotic forces. So, the history of the United States as an independent sovereign state goes back to 1783. The British and Americans fought again from 1812 to 1815, during the Napoleonic Wars (what I suggest is better called either World War Zero or Great World War One, and my favoured dates are 1798 to 1815, with Waterloo being the final battle; Great World War One contextualises 1914 to 1945 as Great World War Two). Wikipedia describes the outcome of the War of 1812 as ‘inconclusive’.

We may note that Encounter Bay, in South Australia, is named after a World War Zero encounter between British and French naval ships – Investigator and Géographe. The encounter was in 1802. The name Tripoli dates from another encounter (a much more violent encounter) within World War Zero, in this case a war between Libya (then known as Ottoman Tripolitania) and the United States. That encounter, a war within a war, was the First Barbary War (1801-1805).

The genesis of the Barbary Wars (see this famous picture of the USS Philadelphia in Tripoli Harbour, depicting the saving-from-capture of that ship in February 1804) was an earlier war. The American-Algerian War of 1785 to 1795was the first foreign military adventure of the United States since its independence in 1783. Wikipedia lists the ‘result’ of this war as an ‘Algerian victory’. It will be a surprise to many people that America’s first foreign war was so soon after independence, and in the Mediterranean rather than somewhere close to home; independent America has a long history of violence in the ‘Middle East’. It will be no surprise that, in 1795, the United States lost that war.

The context of the 1785-1795 war was that Great Britain, piqued by the loss of its American colonies, refused the United States the ‘protection’ of the British Navy.

We note here that imperial nations traditionally extracted ‘tribute’ from both their subjugated territories, and other populated territories which might otherwise be candidates for subjugation. Further, smaller maritime states traditionally extracted rent from passing ships.

These ‘clipping-the-ticket’ relationships still exist, of course. Egypt, for example, extracts monopoly rents from its possession of the Suez Canal; as does Panama re the Panama Canal. As would New Zealand if South American merchant ships were to transit through Cook Strait on their way to Australia. Indeed, as international airports charge landing fees. Further, the extraction of imperial tribute has become apparent once again, as the American president tries to use import taxes – tariffs – and bilateral ‘deals’ as ways of ‘making lots of money’; as a way of leveraging imperial power. This is extortion through protection money, in the very worst sense of that concept of power.

In the 1780s, and before, Britain and Algeria ‘scratched each other’s backs’. Britain let Algeria – literally a ‘pirate state’ – do its thing, so long as it did not charge rents from ships under the protection of the British Empire. Thus, after 1783, American ships ceased to benefit from British protection. The conflict ended in 1795, with the United States agreeing to pay rents to Algeria, and – by implication – to other ‘pirate kingdoms’ on the North African Barbary Coast.

The Barbary Wars began when newly elected president – Thomas Jefferson – refused to pay rents to Tripolitania, aka Libya. As a result, Tripolitania declared war on the United States. The United States sent a number of frigates, including the USS Philadelphia.

To this day, the United States commemorates the 1804 burning of the USS Philadelphia by Stephen Decatur as a heroic rescue, an act of derring do which Lord Nelson reputedly claimed was “the most bold and daring act of the Age”. It was this action which led to the naming of three United States naval ships, including the current ship, as ‘Tripoli’. Decatur went on to become a hero, once again, in the 1812 to 1815 war with Britain. And many American towns came to be named after him. (We may note that, in another ‘heroic’ action in World War Zero, in 1812, the Russian military burned the city of Moscow in order to save it from Napoleon’s invading army. One significant aftermath was a literary novel: War and Peace.)

This war was not an American victory; importantly for the United States, it was not the ignominious defeat that it might otherwise have been. The United States – or at least mercenaries in the pay of the United States – did win the subsequent 1805 Battle of Derna, which the USS Tripoli officially commemorates.

The First Barbary War ended inconclusively in 1805, with a deal. Wikipedia says: “In agreeing to pay a ransom of $60,000 (equivalent to $1.3 million in 2025) for the American prisoners, the Jefferson administration drew a distinction between paying tribute and paying ransom.” Jefferson agreed to pay a ransom. We should note that the Second Barbary War of 1815, also involving Decatur, lasted just two days, and was an American victory (under President Madison).

Another reason for the naming of the USS Tripoli, which is essentially the same reason.

In 2011, the United States (as NATO), under President Obama, fought in another war against Libya. This was a successful war of ‘regime change’, this time through air power rather than sea power; though few would say that the replacement regimes have improved either the stability of Libya or of the Eastern Mediterranean. This war of ‘decapitation’ of Libya was Obama’s dress rehearsal for an even more ambitious attempt to do the same in Syria. The subsequent Syrian Civil War was another distressing failure of United States’ foreign bellicosity. At least Obama asked Congress, and as a result he was unable to escalate; Obama was thwarted in his further attempts to become a decapitating conqueror (noting Abbottabad as well as Tripoli). Much of Syria descended into anarchy, until Russia intervened.

The USS Tripoli was commissioned in 2012, as much in commemoration of recent American adventurism as it was in commemoration of that country’s earliest acts of violence in a land far far away.

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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

A minute after my radio-alarm went off this morning, I was ‘privileged’ to hear this deeply scary interview with the Deputy Prime Minister: Deputy PM Seymour on NZ, Iran and fuel relief, RNZ 24 March 2026. For most of the interview David Seymour outlines why Ruthanasia politics is essential for New Zealand, even as a global existential crisis may be unfolding. While he didn’t use the word ‘Ruthanasia’, he may as well have.

(Ruthenasia was supposed to have been a policy to deliver relatively ‘more money’ to younger New Zealanders; that is, such policies of fiscal austerity are commonly conducted in the name of intergenerational equity, though that notion – as represented by the ‘financial literacy’ community – is a logical fallacy of the first order. Money, a set of claims on wealth, a social technology, is regarded by austerians such as Ruth Richardson and David Seymour as a form of intrinsic wealth. Seymour claimed that “the previous government maxed out the credit card”; New Zealand is about 105th out of 190 countries for government debt. Turkmenistan, Brunei and Kuwait are the top performers by Seymour’s criterion (with Afghanistan, Haiti and Russia also in the top 10); Sudan and Japan are the worst. According to Trading Economics, New Zealand now has a projected 47% government debt to GDP ratio, up from 39% in 2023. Truth is becoming an increasingly scarce commodity.)

NATO and the Greater Evil

The real problem though, contained in this interview, is in the presenter’s introduction, and also in the quasi-acceptance of the alarming content of that introduction.

In the recording, Nato Secretary General Mark Rutte claims that New Zealand has signed up to a 22-country Nato-led initiative “to implement his vision [referring to the President of the United States] of making sure the Strait of Hormuz is free, is opening up as soon as possible”.

First, we should note that the Strait of Hormuz is presently open to all neutral countries; it is not open to those countries waging a war of aggression on Iran (a country along with Oman which has, by virtue of geography, sovereignty over that narrow Strait). (Much as Egypt has sovereignty over the Suez Canal.) Although there is some ambiguity regarding countries (such as New Zealand) which condemn Iran but choose to not-condemn Israel or the USA.

What New Zealand should do, if it really wants trade access to the Persian Gulf, is to condemn – equally – all the belligerents in this war. Beyond that, the paucity of ships passing through the Strait is an insurance matter; a matter that can be most easily resolved by the aggressors stopping the present war rather than (literally and figuratively) inflaming it. Does New Zealand want to be safe, and to have safe access to the Gulf States, or does it want to be egregiously stupid?

Regional Wars too easily become World Wars

At present there are two ‘regional’ wars of global significance in ‘play’. We note that in World War Two there was something similar. In November 1941 there was an all-out European war in which Germany was fighting the Soviet Union on one front and fighting the United Kingdom on the other. And there was a war in the western Pacific in which Japan was fighting China and Indo-China; kind of a world war in that most of Indo-China was ‘colonies’ of the European powers France, Netherlands, and the United Kingdom.

Then, in December 1941, Japan attacked the United States’ fleet in Hawaii (noting that Hawaii was not a part of the United States then). Three days later, Japan sank two British battleships – Prince of Wales, and Repulse – in the South China Sea, effectively declaring war on the United Kingdom. And then, another day later, German Chancellor Adolf Hitler declared war on the United States – his biggest strategic mistake. Two regional geopolitical wars had become a world war.

Goliath 2.0; a modern-day unsophisticate and anti-intellectual, and his band of orcs

In 2026, the two wars are between Nato and Russia, with most of the action taking place in the territory of the Nato proxy-state, Ukraine. The second war is between Israel and Iran, with Israel being helped out by its much larger proxy with its Goliath president. Much of the violence is taking place in other countries; countries either sandwiched between Israel and Iran or coveted by Israel as part of its Greater Israel project.

What is now connecting these two wars – both being fought in parts of central Eurasia – the war in Europe and the war in the ‘Middle East’? First is that Ukraine became involved, earlier this year, as a military ally of Israel. Second is that Nato, one of the combatants in the Ukraine War, is now trying to join in the Middle East War as a formal ally of Israel and its subservient Goliath. And little New Zealand is showing all the signs that it is trying to become a formal ally of Nato, a willing participant of both regional wars; awestruck by Goliath and his band of merry orcs.

When two globally significant regional wars combine today to become a single war, we have World War Three. Why, on Earth, would New Zealand want to be a part of that? Why would we want to be a party to both ecocide and economic suicide? And why would we want to become a target in a nuclear war? Is that egregiously stupid?

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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.