
Provincial Mussolini on a Ladder
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.
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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.
The High Court’s ruling on the Bell Hotel in Epping is not a local quarrel but a turning point: councils asserting veto power, judges dismissing statutory duties as time-wasting, Farage and the Tories cheering, and Labour keeping silent. What began as a far-right protest has been laundered into national policy.
At the Alaska summit, Alexander Dugin saw triumph in mere recognition. But sovereignty today (whether in Moscow, Washington, or Westminster) exists only as theatre, feeding on crisis and rendering peace impossible.
Jake Wallis Simons’s fantasy of faith, flag and family is less tradition than imported culture-war kitsch.
Robert Jenrick’s photo-op at an anti-asylum protest was more than poor judgement. By posing alongside the milieu of Eddy Butler and the BNP, he signalled how far the Conservative Party has travelled towards convergence with the far right.
Amazon’s humanoid delivery bots aren’t just replacing drivers—they’re accelerating the creation of what William I. Robinson calls surplus humanity: billions rendered useless to capital.
The professional class is learning, too late, that capitalism never needed their skills—only their compliance, until it didn’t.
Drawing on the work of William I. Robinson, this essay traces how Trump’s America—already operating under the logic of the global police state—and Starmer’s Britain are converging on a model of technocratic repression, outsourced violence and algorithmic control, where the state no longer seeks consent but governs through code.
Trump’s tariff war is not about economic nationalism, it’s a desperate attempt to prop up a failing system through class warfare, digital authoritarianism, and mass repression. As capitalism stumbles deeper into crisis, the dominant class turns to protectionism, billionaire governance, and algorithmic control to maintain its grip, ensuring that workers, migrants, and the global precariat bear the cost.