The rest of the blog
The chancellor’s proposed income tax shuffle is clever accountancy but toxic politics — a pledge-break disguised as fiscal discipline, and proof that Labour has trapped itself in rules it cannot escape.
More than 200,000 young men aren’t “signed off for life”—they are the reserve army of labour, conscripted into the Telegraph’s morality tale to prepare the ground for austerity.
David Frost calls it a new “Red Terror.” The truth is plainer: it’s the Right’s wars, coups and crackdowns that have spilt the deepest blood in politics.
Trump’s latest “kinetic strike” killed three unknown Venezuelans he labelled “narco-terrorists.” The phrase is not law but incantation, a word that strips away humanity and legitimises killing. From Vietnam body counts to Obama’s “signature strikes,” America has always named its enemies into existence, and into death.
To call Robinson’s rally “populist” or “right-wing” is to miss the point. Fascism doesn’t require every marcher to be a coherent ideologue; it requires a mass, a scapegoat, and leaders prepared to turn grievance into violence. That is what we saw in London.
The events of Saturday (13/09) prove that Britain can go fascist. Musk calls for violence, the Telegraph and Times launder his words, and Starmer clings to the flag. We must name the danger or watch it grow.
Camilla Tominey’s sainthood act for Charlie Kirk trades politics for piety. The Right already owns the machinery (press, finance, courts, police) and Kirk was part of the drive shaft. A death certificate doesn’t wash clean a career built on making violence respectable.
The ONS reports zero growth in July. The papers call it “grim news” for Rachel Reeves. In reality, it is the latest entry in a long obituary for British capitalism — a system now sustained only by euphemism, stagnation, and decline.
Jeffrey Sachs wants you to believe the world’s problems can be solved by breaking U.S. dominance and letting other powers rise. But that’s not anti-imperialism, it’s just a multipolar fantasy.
JD Vance went to Greenland to play imperialist. He left rebuked, ridiculed, and unwelcome, a fitting emissary for a decaying superpower.
Hal Draper’s ‘America as Overlord’ is a study of imperial necessity, how the United States became the regulator of global capitalism, why its dominance persisted, and what happens when the system it upholds begins to fracture.
The left’s long struggle against empire has often been distorted by its own blind spots, nowhere more so than in the contradictions of campism, where opposition to Western imperialism too often becomes an excuse for silence, or worse, complicity, in the face of other empires.
Trumpism and Putinism are reshaping the global order, through a new brand of reactionary nationalism. As the world looks more unstable, the left cannot afford to rely on old slogans or abstract theory, because when bombs fall and occupations expand, resistance is not a thought experiment.
As global tensions intensify and militarism gains momentum, how do we maintain principled opposition to war while effectively confronting authoritarian threats? Reflecting on recent debates, I explore the urgent need for genuine internationalist solidarity.
Robert D. Kaplan’s Waste Land: A World in Permanent Crisis is less a serious analysis of global instability than an extended defence of imperial power, dressing up the failures of capitalism as inevitable and naturalising the dominance of Western capital as the only alternative to chaos.
Donald Trump’s latest scheme—expelling Gaza’s population to neighbouring countries and transforming the strip into a capitalist playground, exposes the brutal logic of imperialism. With threats to withhold aid from Egypt and Jordan unless they absorb millions of displaced Palestinians, this plan is not just a violation of international law but a blueprint for ethnic cleansing.
Michael Hardt and Sandro Mezzadra’s article “A Global War Regime” examines the interplay between militarisation and capitalist structures, yet, from a Marxist perspective, it overlooks crucial aspects like class struggle, the state’s role, and the ideological mechanisms underpinning militarisation.
As we approach the anniversary of the start of the Iraq War, there has been a surge in retrospective articles examining the conflict and its aftermath. These introspective pieces provide an opportunity for us to reevaluate the decisions that led to the war, its far-reaching consequences, and the lessons we can glean from this turbulent period in history. By engaging in such reflection, we can better understand the complexities of war and work towards preventing similar catastrophes in the future.