Britain
The Free Speech Martyrdom of Lucy Connolly
Keir Starmer’s law-and-order theatrics have handed the far right its new saint: a self-styled free speech Joan of Arc—except this saint didn’t want to be burned, she wanted others to be.
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Keir Starmer’s law-and-order theatrics have handed the far right its new saint: a self-styled free speech Joan of Arc—except this saint didn’t want to be burned, she wanted others to be.
Paul Bristow cites the Epping Forest ruling to demand hotel closures for asylum seekers, but offers no plan for what follows. The Conservatives built the hotel system; Labour inherits it; local politicians weaponise planning law while migrants disappear from view.
The arrest of a part-time cleaner for sharing Facebook posts backing Palestine Action shows how Britain’s response to Gaza has drifted from foreign policy into domestic repression.
Farage brings the noise, Starmer brings the law. The country falls apart to the sound of flags snapping and doors slamming while capital quietly clears the till.
Robert Jenrick’s Union Jack pantomime isn’t patriotism; it’s a confession of weakness. A dying political class turns to flags and ladders because it has nothing left to offer but theatre.
By sanctioning International Criminal Court judges and prosecutors, Trump’s America has openly declared that empire stands above the law. Europe and Britain now face a stark choice: defend the court’s independence, or accept a world where justice stops at Washington’s door.
The Alaska talks were not a breakthrough but a trap. A “peace deal” that rewards Russian aggression is appeasement by another name. Ukraine’s fight is for survival, and any settlement must be on its terms—not Moscow’s.
The High Court’s ruling in Epping shows how Britain has turned planning law into a border regime, feeding jealous politics of scarcity and erasing the very category of the refugee. Now with Labour councils as willing collaborators.
Trump’s return to power signals not just a political shift but a profound restructuring of the American state—one that fuses corporate power with authoritarian governance. This transformation, driven by figures like Elon Musk and the influence of think tanks such as the Heritage Foundation, represents the latest stage in capital’s ongoing march towards unaccountable dominance.
The transition is complete. The bureaucracy is being purged, executive orders rain down like decrees from a throne, and opposition is branded treasonous. The state is no longer a neutral machine for capitalist management—it is becoming an instrument of direct class war. Trump’s second term is not simply a rerun of his first; it is something darker, more disciplined, more openly repressive. The threats against political enemies are no longer bluster—they are policy. The FBI and CIA are being reshaped in his image, turned from institutions of surveillance into enforcers of ideological loyalty. Official diktats appear not just in government memos but on X, where Musk, the regime’s favoured oligarch, polls his Twitler Youth on whom to exile next. The question is no longer whether American democracy is eroding but whether we are watching its final transformation into something else entirely. Neoliberalism is collapsing, and in its ruins, a new order is emerging. The only question is: what kind?