The Face of Truth: Ahmadian… The Dialectic of Presence and Absence Between Iran and Sudan

Ibrahim Shaglawi

Recently, the Iranian researcher and academic Dr. Hassan Ahmadian has emerged through his appearances on a number of satellite channels, addressing the U.S.–Iran war with a striking analytical perspective, seeking to deconstruct his country’s positions and interpret regional and international policies from within their conceptual structure and strategic framework.

He did not limit himself to describing it, but rather crafted a comprehensive narrative that aims to persuade the world of its premises.

Hassan Ahmadian is an Iranian academic and researcher in strategic affairs and international relations, known for readings that combine an understanding of the structure of political decision-making in Iran with the complexities of the region. He is presented on some platforms as one of the voices explaining Iranian policies from within their own logic, granting him a presence in the space of interpreting action rather than merely describing or analyzing it.

Within this context, the rise of a model like Hassan Ahmadian does not appear as an isolated event or merely a “media trend,” but rather as a reflection of a conscious system that has succeeded in transforming discourse into an extension of power, and in making the word a tool of political engagement. Iran, over long years of accumulation, has not only built its hard capabilities, but has also constructed a cohesive narrative structure that invests in people, frames the message, and calibrates the rhythm of discourse in service of its strategic vision.

Thus, when a calm, composed, and articulate speaker appears, he represents not himself as much as he reflects an entire “school” that knows how to manage its presence in the international arena.

This model, which has gained admiration, is not based on neutrality as much as it is on “intelligent bias,” where the political narrative is presented in a form that appears rational and objective, while at its core it carries a firm defense of the interests of its state. Here lies the secret of its influence: not in inventing new ideas, but in the ability to present an old position with modern tools, distancing itself from noise and drawing closer to persuasion. It is “media diplomacy,” where the analyst becomes part of image engineering.

However, the Arab public’s fascination with this model cannot be understood in isolation from the reality of Arab media, which has long remained captive to a duality: an academic discourse disconnected from the pulse of the people, and a mobilizing discourse that lacks minimum rigor. This voice came to fill a widening gap, to the extent that the audience has become more inclined to celebrate it as a model that combines knowledge, composure, and expressive ability.

Yet the striking paradox, as observers see it, is that this admiration, in one of its dimensions, is not so much admiration for the other as it is a protest against the self. It is an expression of a crisis of confidence in Arab elites, and an accumulated feeling that the Arab voice is no longer capable of representing its issues with the required competence or logical argument, as it has become torn between blind bias or dependence on external actors.

When this comparison is extended to the Sudanese case, the gap becomes more acute. Sudan, which is facing an existential war intertwined with regional and international ambitions alongside internal complexities, has not yet succeeded in producing a coherent narrative that represents it in the international arena. The problem is not the absence of competencies—Sudan is rich with capable minds—but rather the absence of a “center that formulates meaning,” and the lack of harmony between political decision-making and media discourse.

The Sudanese discourse, in many of its manifestations, has remained confined to reactions, or perhaps division, chasing events rather than anticipating them, explaining facts instead of defining the framework through which they are understood. In such a moment, where narratives are rapidly formed and impressions solidify before facts, this delay becomes costly, as it opens the space for other narratives to fill the void—often in ways that do not serve national interests.

This shortcoming cannot be separated from the nature of the international environment in which the media battle is conducted. Satellite channels, despite their claims of neutrality, operate within a network of interests and balances, where guests are selected and angles of discussion are drawn according to considerations that go beyond professionalism, sometimes approaching complicity. In such a compromised space, there is no effective presence except for those who possess a strong and coherent discourse.

In Sudan’s case, the challenge is compounded, as it is not yet perceived as a central actor in reshaping the region, but rather as an open arena for reconfiguration. This difference is directly reflected in the nature of media presence: active states are hosted to explain their positions, while states that are contested over see their voices absent.

Hence, the question of whether the problem lies in weak discourse or in the platforms cannot be answered with a single choice. We are faced with a complex interplay between an internal deficiency in producing narrative and an external environment that does not grant real opportunities. Yet the constant in all of this is that a vacuum does not remain empty; if a state does not tell its own story, others will write it according to their interests and perceptions.

It is worth noting, from a methodological perspective, that the comparison between the Iranian and Sudanese cases does not stem from any assumptions related to governance models, whether supportive or critical, nor from evaluating one political experience over another, nor from Iran’s position as a regional power. It does not aim at any projections related to influence, alignment, or ideological positioning. Nor is it built on a normative reading of any party.

This comparison is understood within the framework of analyzing the “sociology of war” and the production of narratives within conflict environments, many of whose elements have been reshaped within broader structural transformations in the region, driven by logics of power struggle. These transformations cannot be separated from visions of shaping the Middle East and the Horn of Africa as part of a wider network of intersecting influences.

From this perspective, the comparison between Iran and Sudan is not a comparison between “political models,” but between two different structures in managing conflict within environments undergoing reconfiguration, where mechanisms of producing chaos intersect with mechanisms of managing influence.

At a deeper level, this comparison reveals that the difference between Iran and Sudan lies not only in the balance of power, but in the ability to transform that power—or even challenges—into a persuasive discourse.

Iran has managed to make war part of a narrative of resilience, turning pressure into cohesion, while Sudan is still searching for the language through which it can present its crisis to the world.

Wishing you continued well-being.

Saturday, April 11, 2026

Shglawi55@gmail.com