Two-liners

1.The good moments in life are light, pleasant, a bit random,  and come without any need to process them.  They become memories and can evoke gentle melancholy. 

4.History is both random and subject to over-determinations dictated by objective material realities.  So a random subjective  act  can only alter history at a particular and unique juncture, or, to put it more mystically, when the stars (conflicting over-determinations) align or collide.  

3. Self-awareness vs magical realism. Or can they be complementary in making the ordinary magical without expecting it to become extraordinary?

7. “If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution” (even if I am a terrible dancer). The self-appointed prophets of wrath, fire, and brimstone, the Savonarolas of the world are always counter-revolutionary.

Moving Trains / Crossing Timelines

You can never cross the same river twice because it's not the same river and you are not the same person. So it follows that you can never meet the same person twice. Of course there is familiarity, character traits, ideology, heritage, roots, accumulated knowledge, ephemeral impressions, and looks, but whenever people meet they are like moving trains. Even faces change. So does the gaze. Sometimes the trains move so fast that meeting someone the next time could  feel like meeting another person. Intersections and collisions can happen in different timelines. 

The senior journalist

At work today, a colleague asked for my designation to put under a caption and another colleague loudly replied: senior journalist. I could not help but laugh at the sound of it. I have been designated as “senior” for the past decade or so, but today it came across as a reminder that I am in the autumn of my life.

Well, since last year some gentle Indian souls have started offering me their seat on the bus, I guess out of respect for my not-so-venerable age of 51.

I am not the type to worry about age. In many aspects of life I feel younger than I was twenty years ago. In many other aspects nothing much has changed since I was 16. Teenage Kicks by The Undertones remains a sort of anthem.

Of course, back in my younger days I imagined myself ageing gracefully, surrounded by loved ones and respected for my wisdom.  

Now, on most days, I sleep and wake up alone, spend a lot of time talking to and being with myself and, of course, still have loved ones with whom I like to share time.

Perhaps I am still wise, but perhaps a bit cranky too. In a number of situations I get confused about how I am supposed to act, which creates a certain awkwardness even in pretty normal exchanges.  

Funny that this reminder of my biological ageing process came after a sort of awakening from two or three years of emotional numbness.  Fuck! I could have made better use of that time.

I do not want to process, plan and zone everything. I am in between places, in a present carrying a lot of past and a little less future. I want to let my multitudes run amok a bit, simply for the sake of celebrating my presence here.

Let’s see how that goes — and how many pineapple cans I buy before they expire.

Schrödinger's wallet

One of the persistent thoughts I had as a child was that reality did not exist but was merely conjured up either by my brain — which I found distasteful and egocentric — or that I might just be part of someone else’s dream, which was even more problematic because the person dreaming might suddenly wake up and my life would simply vanish.

I eventually grew out of this and evolved into a materialist, albeit one who still believes in magical realism. Extraordinary things happen in the here and now, not elsewhere. But by my late teens I had developed another fantasy: that I could somehow slip from one timeline or universe into another. Once I even felt I experienced this. I was about to kiss a girl I was certain wanted to be kissed and the next thing I remember was her telling me not to stare at her. Heaven had been so close that it simply slipped away. Hardly the best example to prove the theory. I later experienced a similar sensation when I actually did kiss someone some months later.

In truth, the thought itself is pointless and can even become dangerous, because it can legitimise wrong choices by imagining they might have been the right ones in another realm. Still, sometimes the feeling of existing between worlds is intoxicatingly real, especially when it feels like being sucked into the void.  I still find the theme fascinating and am currently re-reading Murakami's Sputnik Sweetheart.  I love this quote from that book: “We're both looking at the same moon, in the same world. We're connected to reality by the same line. All I have to do is quietly draw it towards me.”

A few hours after writing this,  a curve ball was thrown at me by the universe.  Just before sleeping, I realised I might have left my wallet — with all my cards inside — at the office, but I could not be 100 per cent sure. This triggered my anxiety.  I had a panic attack because I had to wait until morning to know. It felt like a Schrödinger’s cat scenario: the wallet was both lost and safely on my desk until reality revealed itself.

What made it worse was that I had a radio show to face before I could even go to the office to check. I tried distracting myself, but my fallback  was another loop. Eventually, I stopped trying to solve the uncertainty and reminded myself instead of the good things already present in my life. I slept soundly.

I woke up at six without any hint of doubt that the wallet was 'alive', had a joyful breakfast with my son, enjoyed the radio programme, and later discovered the wallet sitting safely on my desk.

Maybe that is the answer to these loops. Reality is anchored less by certainty than by the small rituals and people that pull us back into the world. And the magical part is that uncertainty and failures are just part of living — not departures from it.  As Bob Dylan wrote "there is no success like failure and failure is no success at all."

The circus is in town

General elections in Malta have morphed into a circus of competing gift-giving — a kind of potlatch financed through accelerated economic growth that, in turn, opens the way to ever more get-rich-quick schemes. It is dizzying, yet strangely plausible.  

Foreign workers, on whose labour this temple was built, are weaponised in a battle where both sides accept their necessity while competing over how much to exclude them from sharing in the wealth they helped create.

There is no ideological battle for the soul of the nation.  There is just an auction to be paid from the proceeds of economic growth generated by profit driven capitalists.

Sure, I have a love-hate relationship with the modern, post-2013 Malta. I prefer living here now than I did 20 years ago. It is a more cosmopolitan place, even if it remains limited and unsophisticated in many ways. But I resent the incestuous relationship between the state and big business, the erosion of public spaces, and the Disneyfication of others. There is now a clear convergence around what increasingly resembles a country that has struck oil without ever having found it.   From my angle, the opposition will only aggravate matters through its socially regressive fiscal policies.

All this said, I do not see much hope.  The only fun aspect is the anthropology of it all.  Someone should really write about how masses are mobilised and energised in a situation where they are clearly being used to prop a benign regime composed of two rival branches.  Still must admit that I have a soft spot for conviviality, albeit one colonised by dominant elites.

 Given my line of work, I cannot really escape it. But in times like these, one comes to appreciate more joyful subjects and encounters. For the first time, I am considering political disengagement a sensible option — albeit one that would regrettably reinforce the status quo.   Still most civil battles are not won in elections but in the streets. 

Random reflections

 

2.The 'conversation' is an end in itself. It exists in a different realm, an enchanted one, creating a connection between different universes and the multitudes inhabiting them. It is alchemy, not the sort which seeks to create pure gold, but which one which thrives in imperfections.  Feels like being in a good existential French movie.  

5.The modern Malta I love: a Brazilian, an Argentinian, a Romanian, a Serb, a Latvian, and a  Maltese sitting around a table celebrating Orthodox Easter and talking about the good things in life. Feels like being in a good Spanish  (Almodóvar like) movie.  The good things in life.

7. Spending time with a dog is a wonderful learning experience. I never had a dog. When I was a child used to be scared of them.  I am also told that as a baby an over enthusiastic dog called spotty had jumped on me.  What striked me most about this experience is that dogs have a personality.  They have their own networks (of smells) and they have  more comfortable  relationship with shit and corporal smells.  They also communicate emotions and affection, which may be for purpose of a reward but how delighted I was when Asti came next to me in the middle of the night.  Then there is the sociological aspect; how dog people interact in parallel to dog interactions.  But the most surprising thing is that you can talk to a dog.  Not that the dog understands human language.  But neither does the dog ignore it.   In some instances you get the sensation that the dog is responding to your thoughts and feelings. Then finally there is the leash. Can't but admire the rare moment of anarchistic refusal to follow the lead. Of course part of it is human projection.  But there is something beautiful in the relationship, the tensions which underline affection, protection and freedom....of course not dominance in my case, pity the dogs owned by bigots and fascists.  

12. Schrodinger's cat in an inbox on an iphone. 

13. "In Between Days” and in between things. Love that song by The Cure. I have always felt drawn to stand in between things. The ambiguity of that space is challenging and intellectually stimulating, especially when you are at intersections pregnant with possibilities, points where life branches out like roots and mycelium. Even in politics, I have always liked that in-between space between socialism and anarchism and their various derivatives.  And while I can feel passionately about my beliefs, I always start from self doubt and irony.  That is also why I see friendships and romance as a spectrum of different ways of togetherness and that every meaningful relationship is a world of its own. The same applies to sexual identity. There is a whole spectrum even within being heterosexual and having a penis, apart from the fact that “heterosexuality” and “maleness” are socially constructed. Being me cannot be reduced to being a male who is attracted to females, especially since attraction itself exists on a spectrum. 

15. Chunking Express  (1994) is a cinematic embodiment of Zygmunt Bauman’s concept of "liquid love"—the idea that in modern, fast-paced, urban environments, human bonds become fragile, ephemeral, and easily replaced. But it touches another level; the value of ephemeral connections.  Wong Kar-wai finds a strange, melancholy beauty in liquidity. He suggests that if everything is destined to expire (like pineapple cans), then the briefest moments of kindness and connection carry an almost magical weight.

18. I think the most radical choice in life is to be real in all circumstances. But I am aware that the borderline between the act and the real is blurred. In a way, authenticity can be the most deceptive act. We have seen this in far-right politics, where ignorant bar talk becomes a badge of authenticity. Bashing intellectuals as elitist is part of the game. It is because sophistication, intellect and good taste can be threatening to people living very dull lives. Theirs is not rebellion; it is just angst.

Sure, it becomes even more difficult to strike an elusive balance between the real and the act when you have some sort of public persona to keep up, and you are perceived by others on the basis of what you write, sometimes on matters about which you have absolutely no strong feelings (for example, Maltese politics). Moreover, what does it mean to be real and authentic, especially considering that I am a multitude of contradictory things? How can you convey authentic feelings when you lean towards the in-between, the complex and the undefined?

One can say that authenticity boils down to actions, not words. True, but actions are also part of the act. This brings me to the question of how to cope with the dissonance between the self with which you are most at ease and the other aspects of life you perform to survive. There is also the problem of which self to show to different people.  A major difficulty is dealing with people pleasers, who deflect any attempt at authenticity, albeit have to admit there is a fine line between being pleasant and being dishonest.

There are some people with whom I instinctively show the side of myself with which I am most at ease. That feels great, even if it does not come without problems, because it means exposing my awkwardness. So, to some extent, solitude provides a comfort zone. But since the shrink told me to get out of my comfort zone, I am a bit lost.

31. There are mornings when you wake up with a different kind of lightness, one that comes from self-awareness and submission not to self-imposed rules but to life itself — a slow lightness that does not yearn but simply feels: a gentle melancholy. 

Genocide, Blood libel, and the Misuse of Antisemitism

'Blood libel' depicted in this scene was based on a fabricated lie that Jewish people used the blood of Christians in religious rituals, especially in the preparation of Passover bread which served as a pretext for pogroms and persecutions.

The terror attack in New York targeting two Israeli diplomats must be condemned as an act of political violence that has no place in democratic societies. What follows should not be misconstrued as an apology or justification. But such acts occur within a context that needs to be understood.

It is not antisemitism that fuels these heinous acts of terror, but the genocide itself—which has also endangered the lives of Jewish people. The scenes from Gaza are stomach-churning. The impact on the mental health of people—not necessarily Arabs or Muslims—who feel helpless in the face of this horror cannot be underestimated.

Yes, the Holocaust and the fight against antisemitism should define our political struggles. That is precisely why Israel must be stopped. Using this case to criminalise opposition to genocide only rubs salt into a festering wound. What is antisemitic is to conflate Jewish identity with support for genocidal and apartheid policies—a conflation particularly common among elements of the right who support Israel. As a historian am also appalled by Netanyahu attribution of the terror attack to “blood libels against Israel”. Am offended because a heinous anti semitic crime whose victims deserve respect is being invoked to justify a clampdown on critics who are denouncing a real crime.

My fear is that the genocide is triggering both antisemitism (which remains alive and well, even among those who claim to hate Jews but support settlers and colonists) and other, harder-to-define forms of political violence. Genocide without a response can also distort our moral compass, creating a misguided imperative that, while not necessarily antisemitic, can still be deadly. Of course, latent and subtle antisemitism can also be at play, which is why the pro-Palestinian movement should confront this issue head-on, showing zero tolerance towards any sign of anti-Jewish hatred.

I say this because the term antisemitism is being misused—exploiting a heinous act committed by an individual with tenuous links to left-wing organisations—to criminalise an entire movement. Genocide is not a word to be taken lightly. Accepting that it is happening without responding to it creates a profound crisis, including serious mental health struggles for those watching these events unfold on their screens.

That is why, in the initial stages of this war, I was reluctant to use the term—fully aware of its gravity. Yet with 54,000 people massacred, clear signs that mass starvation is being used as a weapon, and an evident intent to displace an entire population, one cannot escape the conclusion that the State of Israel is committing a crime against humanity.

Over the past decades, wars and bombardments have been justified under the pretext of humanitarian intervention—not only in the face of genocide (as in Kosovo), but also to prevent it (as was the case in Libya). The contrast with the Western response to what is unfolding in Gaza is so stark, it is mentally disturbing.

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Voting for genocide?

Irrespective of the Israeli singer—who witnessed and lived through a horrific war crime—and the song itself (unremarkable, but not bad), it was disturbing that a significant number of Europeans voted for a song representing a state currently committing extensive crimes against humanity, including the use of starvation as a weapon of war and the killing of 54,000 people.

Just imagine if Russia had been allowed to participate while bombing Ukraine and was close to winning the contest. Thankfully, we were spared that embarrassment because Russia was excluded. Had that happened, some might have questioned the algorithms that made such a result possible.  

But perhaps this also shows that support for Israel goes deeper and extends beyond  European Union officials and national governments.  Still one also has to account for the nature of the vote which is  more indicative of a solid cohort of support in a context of 'diffuse alternatives'.  Furthermore people who wanted to make a political statement by supporting the Israeli entry were more likely to vote 20 times than others who were simply enjoying the night.  Moreover opinion polls in the United Kingdom which gave Israel 12- full points show that only 17% say that their sympathies lie with Israel in the current war in Gaza while 26% sympathise with the Palestinians.  

Still, the fact that a solid cohort continues to support Israel despite the genocide unfolding on our screens—in a context where one would have to be blind not to see it—is disturbing in itself. It partly reflects the rightward drift across Europe. Maybe Malta’s entry—which embodied the kitschy, queer, Euro-pop aesthetic—would have fared better a decade ago, when that vibe held more political currency.

So, should one read too much into a song contest? Maybe not. But it is the closest thing to a European fun night—a moment of collective attention. And for that reason alone, it matters.

The Aesthetics of Power: Lessons from Mujica and Francis for the Trumps of This World

"As soon as politicians start climbing up the ladder, they suddenly become kings. I don't know how it works, but what I do know is that republics came into being to ensure that no one is above anyone else... The pomp of office is like something left over from a feudal past: you need a palace, a red carpet, a lot of people behind you saying, 'Yes, sir.' I think all of that is awful."

José "Pepe" Mujica practised what he preached. He did not advocate self-mortification, nor did he glorify poverty—which he wanted to see abolished. But he understood the link between capitalism and consumerism, which ultimately impoverishes humanity and destroys nature.

He eschewed the presidential palace in favour of the farmhouse where he grew flowers. In 2022, he told Al Jazeera that opulence can “divorce” presidents from their people:

“I believe that politicians should live like the majority of their people, not like the privileged minority.”

In this regard, Mujica shared the same approach as Pope Francis, who, unlike his predecessors (and successor), eschewed living in the papal residence and opted to stay in a suite at the Vatican guesthouse.

Some would argue that as long as politicians bring about positive change, they are entitled to material wealth that reflects their status. There's a case to be made when one considers how public service wages compare to those offered by corporations. One can even argue that an underpaid public service becomes a breeding ground for corruption. For example, in Malta we have a situation where ministers are paid less than their underlings who run public authorities. Moreover, the defence of the common good also requires recruiting the best minds—often in a context where those minds can earn far more serving the same corporations that undermine the public good.

Still, there is a strong argument that political leaders are moral leaders who should lead by example—and that opulence itself is the perfect breeding ground for corruption and incestuous ties between politicians and the super-rich. No wonder some  politicians (including our own Joseph Muscat) are so attracted to the Gulf states. No wonder Trump feels so much at home being feted in the palaces of emirs and sheikhs.

When accepting public office, politicians have a civic and republican duty towards those who elected them—to serve, not to rule. In this sense, their lifestyle and wealth are matters of public interest. So yes, let's ensure they are paid enough to fulfil their duties—and I wouldn't expect them to live like Francis or Mujica (even if it’s a big plus when they choose to do so voluntarily). But any manifestation of opulence, and any business dealings while in office, should be scorned and rebuked. This has nothing to do with appearing smart, looking good, or enjoying life. What is disturbing are politicians who project power by flaunting a lifestyle that affirms their success to ordinary people—who are then expected to admire and adore them.

Rethinking Work: A Workers’ Day Reflection on Time, Dignity, and Freedom

Imagine how the world would be transformed if most boring work were automated, and everyone were entitled to a decent basic income—one that guarantees a good life within a context of robust and accessible public services. People would regain control over their time and be free to cultivate their interests. They would no longer have to accept the first job offer that comes their way, and setting up a cooperative or a small business would become a real possibility for many. Lifelong education would become a reality—not one driven solely by the needs of capitalism.

Of course, this would not immediately lead to the democratisation of the means of production, but it would help pave the way. It would also blur the lines between worker, consumer, citizen, and owner. More people would be able to adopt and navigate these multiple identities at different phases of their lives.

Such a transformation would also help defuse anger and resentment, thereby consolidating liberal democratic institutions. Agonism would replace antagonism simply because people who enjoy life are less likely to hate and blame their unhappiness on others.  

Naturally, this raises the crucial question of how such a system could be financed. The state would still need to play a redistributive role, which means that wealth would still have to be created. However, this kind of revolution could itself unleash productive forces, knowledge, and creativity—ultimately increasing prosperity. Moreover, elements of socialism would coexist with consumer choice and the market economy—albeit one in which the state plays a central role in providing essential services such as healthcare, education, housing, public transport, and energy. This, in turn, would free people from the daily anxieties that dominate so many lives today.  That is one reason why I am averse to the emphasis on self-reliance advocated by some well meaning environmentalists. 

Of course, in the present context where many still struggle to make ends meet trade unions remain essential. In Malta’s current context—marked by high worker turnover and reliance on disposable migrant labour—making union membership mandatory makes sense. It would remove the risk of retribution for joining a union.  

But while trade unions are vital but can’t replace political action to reclaim time from work.  Yet political activism also competes with consumerism  for people’s limited free time.  Moreover capitalism creates beautiful distractions which keeps us glued to our screens. 

The first Pope I loved

Pope Francis didn’t change Church doctrine—but he changed the tone, the focus, and the global conversation. As the world tilts rightward, his death raises the question: will the Church follow or will it respect his legacy? 

I lost my Catholic faith in my teens, resenting the Church’s over -riding obsession with controlling people’s sexuality and bodies. But over the past decade, I came to cherish Pope Francis as a moral compass in an increasingly hostile world. Pope Francis did not substantially change the Church’s official stance on issues like abortion and gender identity, two issues where I respectfully remain at odds with the official church. 

 But he changed its order of priorities, putting social inequality and the globalisation of indifference towards migrants and the poor at the top of his agenda, while side-lining divisive culture wars. That is why progressives including atheists and agnostics, felt at home in Pope Francis’ broad humanistic Church, while clerical conservatives and traditionalists resented him viscerally. 

I grew up under the shadow of John Paul II’s grandstanding papacy: that of a charismatic and conservative Pope whose priority was confronting—and ultimately contributing to the toppling of—totalitarian communism in Eastern Europe. In contrast, his rebuke of capitalist injustices was muted and directed only against its ‘excesses’, not its fundamental flaws. Moreover, in doing so, he marginalised those in his own Church—like liberation theologians—who were confronting capitalism and the violence of right-wing regimes, particularly in Latin America. And while priests were censured for standing with the poor or for advocating women’s rights, his papacy turned a blind eye to sexual predators within its ranks. 

This was followed by Pope Benedict’s denouncement of “the dictatorship of relativism”, which— in the absence of communism—was directed against LGBTQ people and aimed at stopping the tide of social liberalism. While he should be credited for understanding the gravity of the crimes committed by a system designed to protect sexual predators, this only amplified the contrast between a Church obsessed with controlling everyone else’s sexuality and the depravity of some of its own high-ranking members.

It was in this context that Pope Francis shifted the Church’s focus to a critique of capitalism’s inherent and deep flaws. “Let us not be afraid to say it: we want change, real change, structural change,” the Pope said while visiting Bolivia in 2015, decrying a system that “has imposed the mentality of profit at any price, with no concern for social exclusion or the destruction of nature”. “This system is by now intolerable: farm workers find it intolerable, workers find it intolerable, communities find it intolerable, peoples find it intolerable. The earth itself—our sister, Mother Earth, as Saint Francis would say—also finds it intolerable.”

From the start of his papacy, he positioned himself against an ascendant far right, condemning the “globalisation of indifference” during one of his first major speeches as Pope, delivered in Lampedusa in 2013. He also denounced the structural basis of oppression: “the culture of comfort, which makes us think only of ourselves, makes us insensitive to the cries of other people, makes us live in soap bubbles.” 

And following Donald Trump’s election, he wrote to U.S. bishops denouncing the programme of mass deportations: “The rightly formed conscience cannot fail to make a critical judgment and express its disagreement with any measure that tacitly or explicitly identifies the illegal status of some migrants with criminality.” Sure, his compassion and call for justice also raised expectations that he ultimately could not—and probably did not even want to—deliver. On abortion, he changed the rules, allowing all priests, and not just bishops or their delegates, to absolve women who had committed this ‘sin’. But while he still described the act as murder, he framed it more as a symptom of a “throwaway culture” than a condemnation of women. 

Neither did he rock the boat by challenging the male monopoly on the priesthood, and he backtracked on a highly symbolic proposal to allow priests to officiate blessings of same-sex unions—on the understanding that this was not equivalent to marriage. This tacit acceptance of inequality ultimately jarred with Pope Francis’ message of social justice. 

Yet one must recognise that, unlike others in his flock, he resolutely scorned the far right’s appropriation of Catholic traditional values. Nor did he condone the denial of the Eucharist to Catholic pro-choice leaders like Joe Biden. He even described Italian radical and pro-choice activists Emma Bonino as one of Italy’s one of "Italy’s forgotten greats" for her advocacy of human and migrant rights. Ironically, his last official meeting was with J.D. Vance, a Catholic traditionalist who stands on the opposite side of the spectrum. 

Now, his death presents the Church with a stark choice: a relapse into traditionalism in a world that has swung to the right, or a steadfast commitment to social justice and engagement with modernity. This makes the next conclave one of the most pivotal moments in Church history.

Gaza: War Crimes, Complicity, and Paralysis

The bodies of 15 Palestinian paramedics and rescue workers, killed by Israeli forces and buried in a mass grave nine days ago in Gaza, were found with their hands or legs tied and gunshot wounds to the head and chest, according to eyewitnesses. The United Nations has called for an investigation into a crime reminiscent of past pogroms, war crimes, and genocides. Yet, there has been little indignation—not just in the United States, which shares direct responsibility after consenting to Netanyahu’s decision to resume the war, but also in Europe. The most shocking reality is that the war in Gaza has become business as usual. There is no discussion of sanctioning Israel, despite mounting evidence of war crimes, including domicide, forced displacement, and the use of starvation as a weapon.

Nothing can justify this level of complicity with Israeli war crimes. This is not a matter of proportionality. What we are witnessing is a far-right regime using Hamas’ war crime as a pretext for the elimination of an entire community—one that was already being oppressed long before October 7, 2023. EU leaders fail to call a spade a spade when they describe Israel’s response as merely disproportionate.  Because genocidal intent can never be seen as being proportional to anything else.  It is a crime.

However, it would be a disservice to the Palestinian cause not to acknowledge the other elephant in the room: the absence of a national leadership capable of standing up to Israel while negotiating on behalf of the Palestinian people. Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas has been entirely absent, unwilling to stand up for his people. Meanwhile, Hamas’ cult of death and martyrdom does a disservice to their cause. Last week’s protests in Gaza against both Israel and Hamas were significant—not just in their scale, but in the reactions (and silence) they provoked.

“We demonstrated today to declare that we do not want to die. Eventually, it is Israel that attacks and bombs, but Hamas also bears direct responsibility, as do all who define themselves as Arab and Palestinian leaders,” one protester said. Tragically, one of the protest leaders was reportedly kidnapped and murdered.

That said, the paralysis of Palestinian politics is the result of Israel’s long-standing ‘divide and rule’ strategy, including its covert co-option of Hamas to weaken Fatah and its left-wing partners. Meanwhile, militant secular Palestinian leaders like Marwan Barghouti—who could take the liberation struggle to the next stage—languish in Israeli prisons. The stark reality is that Israel prefers fighting a band of criminal fanatics, whose actions serve as a pretext for its aggression, rather than confronting a rational and determined Palestinian leadership—one that is willing to take up arms against oppression but does so judiciously, with the welfare of the population in mind.  

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Benigni’s European Imaginary and Its Contested Legacy

A few days ago, during a peak-time show on Rai, Italian actor/screenwriter Roberto Benigni hailed the "European dream" conjured by the "heroes of Ventotene"—Altiero Spinelli, Ernesto Rossi, and Eugenio Colorni—who drafted the 1941 Manifesto calling for a federal European Union based on democratic socialist, liberal, and republican values.

In these dark times, Benigni went on to exhort us to be proud to be European: "Europe is the smallest continent in the world that lit the fuse of all revolutions; it transformed the planet, it forged the greatest thoughts of humanity, inventing logic, reason, doubt," as well as "freedom, democracy, theatre, sport, modern chemistry, social conscience," among others, creating a "common heritage, an immense treasure in all fields."

Not surprisingly, Benigni’s call resonated with the liberal left but irked the post-fascist Giorgia Meloni, who retorted in parliament: "I don't know if this is your Europe, but it's certainly not mine."

This is a reminder that 'Europe' itself is an imaginary construct rooted in ideology and history. Of course, Benigni referred to the best of European traditions—harking back to Machiavelli and Spinoza, the idea of progress and justice unleashed by the 1789 and 1848 revolutions, and the heroic anti-fascist struggles, both during the war and in the upheavals of 1968. However, his eulogy overlooks the dark side of European history: feudalism, the Crusades, colonialism, anti-Semitism, and fascism—traditions that were never extinguished and are alive and kicking in the far right. In a way, he was offering comfort food for the disoriented—a celebration of what distinguishes us from the vulgarity and rudeness of Trump's America. But on another level, Benigni's exhortation is an invitation to reclaim that Europe of immense possibilities. This may well translate into a civic patriotism that offers hope in a time of despair.  

But like any ideology, the European 'imaginary' is rooted in a historical context. The European social model itself is a fragile historical incident, based on the realisation by elites on both sides of the Atlantic that the only way to prevent communist revolution in this patch of earth was through social democracy, with security needs outsourced to the USA. Of course, this was no clear-cut process, and there were instances—similar to what happened on a much larger scale in Latin America—where the US relied on reactionaries and even fascists to prevent communists from winning power through elections in countries like Italy. Still, by the end of the 20th century, Europe had become a beacon of rights and social liberalism, which explains its appeal to young and educated people in Eastern Europe. In fact, the Russian invasion of  Ukraine can by partly explained by Putin's Russia's fear of the European imaginary—a fear triggered by the Euromaidan uprising—that it could represent a different future not only for the former subjects of the Czarist and Stalinist empires but also for Russia itself.  In fact, Putin represents the rejection of a long-standing European Russian tradition shaped by advanced liberal and socialist ideas which emerged in the continent particularly in communities of exiled revolutionaries whose commitment transcended borders.

Yet this imaginary remains contested, as it risks being deformed and reshaped by an aggressive right wing  that may use this difficult historical moment to push forward a militaristic agenda, potentially making the continent even more dependent on the US. The right is already winning many cultural battles, including on migration, where Malta’s Labour PM is doing Meloni’s bidding in an attempt to reword the European Convention on Human Rights. Moreover, incrementalists like Meloni  may be even more dangerous—diluting European values from within instead of openly rejecting the EU project.  That is why the left should engage with the emerging civic movement for European unity rather than retreat into a 'holier-than-thou' puritanism and equidistance, which in the current circumstances borders on the myopic and the moronic.  But the left can save such a movement from its own pitfalls; by stressing the importance of social and economic reforms aimed at restoring a social model, eroded by two decades of austerity which left the continent vulnerable to the onslaught of the far right.

How Netanyahu's response has vindicated the 'decolonisation' narrative on October 7

A year ago, as my mind processed the horrific news of a massacre of Israeli civilians, I struggled between two compelling narratives. According to one narrative, which framed the reaction of most Western countries, the Hamas attack represented another dark chapter in a history of pogroms and genocidal acts targeting the Jewish people. While this narrative ignores the historical reality of occupation that preceded this attack, the sheer scale and brutality of the assault carried out by an organization whose charter still calls for the eradication of Israel and reiterates tropes like the Protocols of Zion point in this direction. 

However, according to another narrative, the attack had all the hallmarks of ‘decolonisation’—a reaction from a marginalized, dehumanized, oppressed, and colonized indigenous population to an occupation by a settler state transplanted in the region by colonial powers. In short, on October 7, Hamas broke out of jail and went on a rampage whose inhumanity mirrored that of the occupiers. No wonder this narrative found traction in the Global South, which has experienced the brutal logic derived from colonial tropes like manifest destiny, the white man’s burden, and the superiority of settler populations over indigenous “people without histories”—surplus and disposable populations whose lives have less value than those of the occupiers. For the message coming from western capitals in the past year was loud and clear: Palestinian lifes are less valuable then Israeli lives. 

One year on, the sheer impunity that met repeated violations of international law by Israel and the scale of destruction and loss of life in Gaza, and now in Lebanon, vindicates the latter interpretation. But this vindication also increases the daily risks faced by Jewish communities worldwide, which should not be underestimated. For while the Israeli government, in its role as a settler state, is viewed positively by a large segment of the global far right, Jewishness still represents an ‘otherness’ deeply rooted in a dark past, both in the West and among reactionary movements in the Middle East. That is why even for the sake of protecting Jewish populations in both Israel and the rest of the world, it is crucial to bring an end to this madness and to stop Bibi’s insane war. However, the long-term solution depends on decolonizing Israel and Palestine and ensuring full equality and security for all inhabitants living in both present-day Israel and Palestine. 

Still, acts of decolonisation are not immune from genocidal intentions, and while anti-colonial resistance is justified, the October 7 attack represents a very dark chapter in the history of anti-colonial resistance, fatally blurring the lines between anti-Semitism and legitimate uprising.

Why the far right gets so worked up with drag queens

In a world of monsters feeding on fear and anxiety to create more of it and thus ensure a good picking in the next harvest, it is no surprise that images are deployed in pointless culture wars while the world is literally burning. My first call was to dismiss the controversy on the last supper/ Dionysian bacchanalia representation and worry about more serious matters like global warming. After all it looks like another clash between the stuffy world of mullahs of all stripes and artists playing on symbols and cultural archetypes,as they have done for centuries. Sure some would ask what would liberal leftists have said if the image being mocked and parodied was Islamic? Apart from the fact that the Olympic games are being held in France (where the dominant culture is not Islamic) not in Iran, I would say that mockery is a precondition for an inclusive society. There is also a difference between acts of racism like burning the koran in an attempt to stir civil strife and playful artistic representations or literary works like the Satanic Verses whose author faced a despicable and cruel fatwa which was executed 33 years after being issued. So yes the left should be stronger in denouncing Islamic fundamentalists and mullahs and defending secularism. There can be no tolerance for those who want to cancel identities and people with them. Still there is one aspect which i find particularly irritating: the false equivalence made by far rightists invoking free speech: Their argument being that global elites (Elon Musk excluded) are guilty of double standards in advocating artistic freedom while censoring the views of bigots, incels, homophobes and racists. This just exposes the nature of a totalitarian project; which boils down to a normalisation of hate and a marginalisation of critical and academic inquiry as well as sheer humour. And while they lash at some global liberal conspiracy their greatest advocate is Elon Musk, a symbol of predatory capitalism and the normalisation of bigotry in the social media. Of course not all those taking offence belong to the latter camp, and most probably some catholic leaders even speak up out of fear that the far right will outflank them. For once again the far right is usurping Christian symbols to deploy as weapons in their bid to impose a new order. They may well end up using the cross as their new swastika in promoting a nationalist ideology which is so alien to christian universalism. Still Catholic leaders who rushed to condemn this representation are once again losing an opportunity; that of rising above puerile culture wars, and show the self confidence of people who can take irony and ridicule while focusing on the existential threats facing humanity. But this brings me to another reflection, why is a presumed representation of a last supper (depicted in all kinds of bizarre ways on t-shirts, posters, and adverts) which includes a drag queen offensive in the first place? Does this in itself suggest that some bodies are less equal and more offensive than others? For ultimately what irks them is the visibility of bodies which defy their ideology. They want to turn back the clock to a time when certain bodies lived out of sight.

magic and loss

 

How to beat the far right

There are elections which can define the course of history. The second round of the French election on Sunday is one of these.

Faced with the prospect of a far right government in France, the logical choice for all democratic forces is to withdraw third placed candidates which could stand in the way of a victory over the far right.

In the short term this is the only possible way to stop the far right from winning. The 'popular front' including Melenchon have already declared that they are withdrawing in constituencies where centrists are in a better place to beat the far right. Prime Minister Gabriel Attal, who distinguishes between the enemy (RN) and the adversary (the left ) has hinted doing in those constituencies where the left is in a better place to beat the far right. But regrettably some in the president's camp take exception with France Insoumise candidates in a false equivalence which betrays the legacy of the second world war.

Even during the cold war centre right republicans used to vote for communists (and vice versa) when facing Jean Marie Le Pen's FN.

But while commendable this strategy worked in a context where the far right was more of a nuisance than a real threat.

To beat the far right as a project of government, the centre and the left have to converge around a synthesis which remains elusive but has become a necessity not just in France but even in the US.

The reality is that as things stand neither the centre nor the left can beat the far right on their own. But a sheer sum of the parts is also likely to be dismissed as a marriage of convenience by voters (this reminds me of Prodi's alliance in Italy which stretched from the centre-right to the far left but which imploded after a few months in power). Moreover voters across the world tend to vote for something they can believe in and not simply to block the path of others.

One mistake committed by the centrists is that they can keep on embracing the same policies while hoping that left wing voters have no alternative but to back them against the far right. Macron failed miserably in this with the Popular Front emerging as the main contender against the far right. In next Sunday's election the first line of defence against the far right is the left.

But the left often makes the mistaken assumption that by going back to its roots (whatever that means) it can become the natural choice of those who vote fascists cause they have been left behind. In reality it was under Jeremy Corbyn that Labour lost the so-called 'red wall' in its northern heartlands.

It is time to take a look back at history. Cause what is happening now comes with a sense of deja vu.

Some dismiss the urgency of stopping the far right simply because it bears little resemblance to the brown or black shirts.

But while expecting the Nazi zombies to creep back from their sordid graves is far fetched and unrealistic, let's not forget that it was moderate voters and mainstream conservatives who put in Hitler, Mussolini and Pinochet in power. The Nazis were not alien predators who descended on the planet. They were crafty politicians who plotted alliances with conservative forces to win power, often by respecting (and bending) the constitutional rules. Mussolini retained the monarchy and Hitler won power in coalition with conservative parties while serving under President Hindenburg. They also kept power through mixture of fear and consent. Secondly they did so incrementally moving the goalposts as they consolidated their power.

Neither i am not comparing Bardella, Le Pen or Trump to Hitler. None of them advocate the elimination of entire ethnic groups and in a reflection of our times they are more islamophobic than anti semitic. Today you can be fascist who supports Israel for all the wrong reasons. But they have also invested a lot in a climate against immigrants and have contributed to a climate of intolerance.

Moreover talk of about ' the national preference', a roll back of climate policies and taking away citizenship rights of children represent a real threat to our way of life and our existence.

Another mistake committed by some analysts is to view the modern far right as some kind of populist anti elitist movement legitimised by democratic elections.  The reality is that Nazism and fascism were also an expression of a similar sentiment. The railed against jewish elites and ranted against intellectuals.  Of course in power they not only eliminated inconvenient trade unions but provided capitalism with slave labour. But right to the end they projected themselves as tribunes of the masses.  And just as today, their rise in the 1920s and 1930s seemed unstoppable.  They managed to shape popular common sense.  The far right project today is also incremental, weakening Europe and democratic institutions from within.

Yet they were stopped and beaten.  And we also owe that to the rise of mass democratic movements (namely christian democracy, social democracy and euro-communism).  Our Europe was born out of a compromise which saw most of the left accepting liberal democratic norms and the centre endorsing active state intervention and the welfare state.  It was an imperfect compromise but one which emancipated millions of people.

The historic lesson is that the far right can be beaten by popular mobilisation and a counter hegemony which shifts the political centre to the left.

So to get serious about the far right threat, the left has to push the centre to ditch its love affair with neo-liberalism and austerity. But to get there the left must ditch its hobby of denigrating the 'west' even when facing authoritarian powers like Russia, China and Iran... The left also has to reclaim the sort of civic patriotism rooted in the jacobin tradition and the partisan resistance. It must reclaim its historic role in the front lines of defending the legacy of 1789 and 1848.

It is time for an inclusive and assertive republicanism which takes pride in the conquests of the past but is ready to address the challenges of the future. A bold left which does not shun public ownership in the energy and transport sectors, which aggressively demands a global tax on corporations and crucially embark on a project of renewal which offers a better and more prosperous life by investing in job creation and saving the planet. It should also stand for the defence of democracy from its detractors, including aggressive imperialists like Putin.

It has to offer hope in a future where people have greater control over their daily existence, where poverty is abolished and where technology and AI are socialised with the aim of shortening the working week. But ultimately all this depends on protecting humanity from the ravages of climate catastrophe. It would be simply irresponsible for democratic forces to wage war against each other while the planet is burning. The stakes have never been higher.

In between times: From dissonance to hubris

The brutal war in Gaza carried out with impunity has exposed the limits of humanitarian interventionism, often a pretext for empire building (remember the Iraq war and the chaos it unleashed) but also a discourse based on the idea that human rights are universal.  This was never the case but the dissonance has reached epic proportions in the killing fields of Gaza.  For while initially the west's poster boys and girls could invoke this discourse against Hamas, it was clear from before October 7 that the forceful displacement of Palestinians was and remains the objective of Israel's far right.  What is happening in Gaza is a repeat of Srebrenica and Gorazde carried out with US made ammunition.  And while a lot can be said about the role of the west in the dismemberment of Yugoslavia,  the intervention in Kosovo and to some extent Bosnia, at least sent a sign that war criminals can be held accountable for acts of genocide. This affront to any pretension of universal values has definitively weakened the edifice of the western liberal establishment.   The contradiction between supporting Ukraine with weapons to resist invasion  and occupation (as it should be) and supporting Israel with weapons to bombard, kill, maim and occupy has become so gargantuan, that  if Biden does not have an epiphany we could be assisting to a veritable melt down. The risk now is that the west itself will be taken over by an assortment of  ethno nationalists who unashamedly support allies on the basis of race, religion and national interest without bothering for any pretext based on international law and justice.  And while Biden is ideologically bankrupt and his administration is fast imploding (with staffers resigning en masse) , this is no reason to celebrate the hubris of a neo-fascist taking over the White House by next year. Ironically in this bizarre brave new world the Houthis have emerged as the last standard bearers of  humanitarian interventionism and Putin, the Iranian mullahs and Erdogan the advocates a (hypocritical) rule based world.  In this sense the South African legal case against Israel, is one of the few glimmers of hope.  For if the world highest judicial authority recognises that what is happening in Gaza amounts to genocide (as the massacre of 23,000 people suggests) , the west will have to choose between supporting genocide and opposing it.  Moreover it will be a reminder that multilateral global institutions can deliver justice and even hold western allies accountable for their actions.  But the consequences of hubris could be even more catastrophic especially  if it derails global commitments on climate change and if it emboldens all regional (and global) bullies to do the same as Israel. 

Palestine and our moral bankruptcy

The tragedy in the 'siege of the hospitals' in Gaza is that the Israeli state is proving by its own actions  that it is structurally racist, thus legitimising claims by the likes of Hamas and Hizbollah.

Moreover, the conduct of the EU and the US lends credibility to those like Putin, who question the west's double standards and hypocrisy. 

The reality is that oppressed people deserve the consolation of being internationally vindicated.  The question facing the 'west' (which includes me and us) is why is Netanyahu not treated in the same way as  Milosevic and Putin?  The tragedy is that the only ones doing so (Turkey Hizbollah and Iran) are also of the same ilk.  Erdogan's treatment of the Kurds and Hizbollah's support for the murderous Assad regime come to mind immediately when sultan Erdogan and nasrallah  lambast Israel and hail Hamas as freedom fighters.  

I do not detest the west.  I am part of it. It is also shaped by our struggles for equality, democracy and freedom.  But it is also shaped by a legacy of colonialism, brutality and nationalisms, those zombies which never die and animate an assertive far right.   That is why this moral failure hurts.  

But there is another disturbing aspect of our moral bankruptcy.  We expect Palestinians to warm up to our hallow promises of a two state solution and our calls for restrain on Israel, while they are being butchered.  Our governments expect Palestinians to accept their humiliation and to distance themselves from those resisting the occupation. Since October 7, the world (myself included) had been throwing the burden of moral correctness on a vanquished and brutalised people, thus giving their oppressor a license to maim and kill. Some did worse by literally offering their unconditional support.

And while i recoil at anti semitism, even posting this comment would probably be shot down as anti semitism by some.

The burden of history

This bloody conflict in Palestine and Israel is deeply distressing, a constant rollercoaster of emotions, with events unfolding rapidly, leaving little time for reflection and processing. For me, it's not a matter of lacking understanding; in fact, it's painful because there's an overwhelming amount of information to process, which can cloud clear thinking. 

The scale and nature of Hamas's actions hit a personal chord, considering the historical context of blood libels, pogroms and the Holocaust.   No one should be targeted based solely on their identity.

I'm repulsed by an organization whose charter still references the Protocols of Zion, a 19th-century anti-Semitic forgery. However, I remind myself that there's a complex context of colonial occupation, humiliation, and dehumanization. The subsequent days characterised by the medieval siege of Gaza served as a stark reminder of this complex and terrible reality. It is also reminded me about the brutality of a rationalised bureaucratic machine.  The kind of brutality which starves, humiliates and kills while still presenting itself as civilised, democratic and sane.  

I recoil at those who simply side with Israelis because they look and live like them, while they perceive Palestinians in their reality as less than human.  There is an underlying racism among those who identify with Israel on the basis of this premise.  They are exactly the kind of people who would have hated the dirty starving jew in the ghettoes.  No wonder some on the far right feel so comfortable supporting Israel. 

As the days go by, I'm becoming increasingly exhausted by the weight of history, both past and present. History can serve as a tool for understanding, but it can also become a heavy burden, even a justification for violence and genocide.

For instance, one can argue that Israel's formation is linked to colonialism and an ethnocentric ideology, marginalizing Palestinians as a 'people without history,' similar to the treatment of other indigenous groups worldwide. Yet, many years after the Nakba, there are Israelis living in a society they created, who should not be under the constant threat of elimination and genocide. Israel is here to stay, and part of its identity is that of a 'homeland for the Jews', but hopefully not at the exclusion of Israeli Arabs and surely not as an occupying power.   

But while Israelis have their reasons to be be scared, their government's policies have turned Gaza into a  prison camp, where an entire society is confined and regularly subjected to punishment. In this sense, Gaza evokes memories of the Warsaw Ghetto. And the forced evacuation of Palestinians evokes older memories not just of the nakba but of jews expelled from their homeland in Spain. We must remember and never forget. Yes history can be odious. Yet it can serve as both an antidote and a lesson, helping us remain sensitive to the darkness that can affect both the oppressed and the oppressor.