For years, Western leaders have publicly condemned Iran’s expanding drone arsenal, particularly systems supplied to proxy militias and deployed from the Middle East to Eastern Europe. Yet beneath the rhetoric lies an uncomfortable truth: elements within Australia, the United States, and the United Kingdom have engaged in academic and technical collaboration with Iranian institutions tied to the very regime their governments denounce.

At the same time, these capitals routinely criticise Israel, a country fighting an existential struggle against the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and its network of proxies. The contradiction is glaring. One cannot plausibly condemn Iran’s militarism while permitting research partnerships that strengthen its technological base. This is not mere inconsistency; it edges toward complicity.

The IRGC is deeply embedded in Iran’s missile and drone programs and supports proxy forces across the region. It is designated a terrorist organisation by the United States Department of State and many others. Iran’s drone platforms have transformed asymmetric warfare. Dual-use research in propulsion, endurance, or AI guidance cannot be dismissed as purely academic. If terrorist designations are serious, they must shape policy across academia, immigration, and law enforcement, not exist as symbolic gestures.

Years ago, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu outlined Iran’s missile, drone, and nuclear ambitions. Western capitals largely dismissed these warnings. Subsequent events have only confirmed them.

If the trajectory was visible, why were safeguards not strengthened earlier? Why did enforcement wait until controversy forced attention?

Nowhere is this contradiction more visible than on Western campuses. Over the past two years, universities across Australia, the UK, and the US have permitted pro-Palestinian encampments and protests that escalated into intimidation, vandalism, polarising rhetoric, and attacks. Administrators defended them as free speech.

Yet at the same time, some of these institutions, at least three Australian universities, have engaged in joint research with Iranian universities operating under IRGC oversight. The irony cannot go unnoticed.

For three decades, analysts have warned of foreign state influence in Western academia through funding, partnerships, student networks, and narrative shaping. Iran understands that influence on campuses yields long-term dividends. If universities increasingly serve as platforms where anti-Western authoritarian narratives gain legitimacy while maintaining ties to authoritarian-linked entities, could long-term ideological influence within academia be more effective than policymakers are willing to admit?

Any wonder some protesters now demand universities sever ties with Israeli institutions, partnerships that deliver demonstrable benefits in fields including medicine, technology, and agriculture while continuing activism that can weaken strategic clarity elsewhere?

Ultimately, Iran realised it could not defeat Israel in conventional warfare. It turned instead to propaganda and infiltration in Western societies. The October 7, 2023 attacks on Israel were the perfect trigger for global unrest. Socialists, Queers for Palestine, and other radical left parties joined Islamists in celebrating. These are the indirect soldiers of the IRGC, ready to exploit weak Western leadership. The same Marxists the regime eliminated when it rose to power in 1979.

Academic freedom is foundational. But freedom without strategic awareness becomes vulnerability. Universities claiming to champion human rights must scrutinise foreign partnerships as closely as they do domestic politics.

Despite mounting evidence, Australia delayed formally designating the IRGC a terrorist organisation. It took IRGC-linked violence — the firebombing of a Melbourne synagogue and the attack on a Sydney delicatessen — before decisive action followed.

If intelligence already pointed to destabilising activity, why did domestic violence become the trigger? National security should be anticipatory, not reactive. This was pure negligence. The duty of care a government owes its citizens is clear: their safety comes first.

The Bondi attack, which killed 15, shocked the nation, yet warnings came from as far away as Jerusalem. It did not emerge in a vacuum. For over two years, Australia witnessed escalating tensions: inflammatory rhetoric at protests, university encampments amplifying extremist narratives, doxing, graffiti, vandalism, bombings, and sporadic acts of violence. Much of this activity was defended under the banner of free speech and appeasement.

Free speech is essential. But speech crossing into intimidation, glorification of violence, or incitement is not a philosophical abstraction — it is a public safety matter. When laws are unevenly enforced and governments respond only after tragedy, it is reaction, not prevention. Expanding hate-speech legislation post-event may signal action, but it does not substitute for enforcing existing laws. Security requires consequence.

Australia accepted roughly 3,000 evacuees from Gaza under humanitarian arrangements. Critics question whether vetting was sufficiently robust given the difficulty of verifying identities in conflict zones.

Similarly, repatriating individuals formerly associated with extremist organisations such as Islamic State, including spouses and children, raises complex security considerations. This is not about ethnicity or religion; it is risk assessment. Citizens deserve confidence that security screening is rigorous. After all, one of the Bondi shooters was already on ASIO’s watchlist. It is no wonder public trust in government protection is eroded.

Public demonstrations mourning Iranian Ayatollah Ali Khomeini have sparked controversy. The progressive left and several mosques continue to publicly mourn him, and a video calling for followers to rise up has now surfaced. Calls from the likes of former Australian of the Year Grace Tame to ‘globalise the intifada’ go unchecked. Some of these mosques are found to have received significant government grants from our taxpayer dollars.

What should happen under existing hate speech laws is not what we would expect, given the powers of Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke, who demonstrates time and again that he is more interested in appeasing his Islamic voter base than fulfilling his duty of care to Australians. Efforts to clamp down on mosques promoting hate and dissent are therefore unlikely to carry any weight. Instead of denying visas to Israeli tourists and speakers, when will Burke, with his expanded powers, start deporting some of these hate preachers? I don’t hold my breath.

Some Western political movements frame Tehran as part of a broader “anti-Western resistance.” Yet the Islamic Republic is not a socialist state; after consolidating power, it eliminated leftist and Marxist factions. Decades later, elements of Western activism romanticise a regime that represses civil freedoms.

The public mourning of figures like Ali Khamenei raises serious questions: why are governments tolerating open support for regimes designated as sponsors of terrorism? This echoes the long-standing presence of hate preachers, indoctrination campaigns, and extremist narratives. Why are such acts not prosecuted? Allowing selective tolerance legitimises extremist ideology while law-abiding citizens remain vulnerable.

If a regime imprisons dissidents, suppresses women, and executes homosexuals and opponents, on what intellectual or moral grounds does it become a symbol of liberation?

Political leadership is inevitably scrutinised. Donald Trump has remarked that UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer is “no Winston Churchill.” In Australia, critics raise similar concerns about Anthony Albanese and his government. Neither ever speak like any statesman, that’s for sure.

Rhetoric aside, the strategic anxiety is real: are Western leaders confronting ideological adversaries with clarity, or simply managing domestic coalitions while threats compound? Churchill understood that declared enemies of liberal democracy required resolve, not hesitation.

It is difficult to condemn Iran’s drone proliferation while allowing intellectual pathways that may contribute to it. It is difficult to criticise Israel’s defensive posture while benefiting from the strategic buffer it provides. And it is difficult to reassure citizens about safety while appearing reactive to mounting warning signs.

Western democracies thrive on openness. But openness without enforcement becomes vulnerability. Bondi definitely proved that.

If the IRGC is a terrorist organisation, if extremist ideologies openly call for violence, and if warning signs accumulate without consequence, tragedy should not come as a surprise. Security delayed is security diminished. Citizens are entitled to ask whether governments are shaping events or merely responding after the damage is done. And, sadly, Albanese, for one, is deflecting these questions.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)