Tuesday, 1 September 2026

Wendell Erdman Berry, poet and farmer RIP. (5/08 /34 - 31/08/26) - Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front / The Peace of Wild Things

 


Very  sad  to  hear  that  we have lost one of the 20th century's most important voices for ecological sanity, Wendell Berry,  revered poet,  essayist , farmer , enviromental  activist , visionaty, prophet  and  devoted guardian of  the  living  world . Another fine human taking leave of this place.  RIP. 
Berry's death, on Aug. 31, was confirmed by his publisher, Counterpoint Press. "In a world that feels under siege, Wendell's writing asks us to slow down, to focus on community, and to think seriously about what we owe each other as fellow humans," publisher Alyson Forbes said in a statement. "Few writers have held so steadily to a single, clear-eyed vision across decades."  
Born in 1934, Wendell Berry was the first of four children of Virginia Erdman Berry and John Marshall Berry, a lawyer and tobacco farmer. Both the Erdmans and the Berrys farmed in Kentucky’s Henry County for at least five generations.  
Wendell earned a B.A. and M.A. in English at the University of Kentucky, and in 1958, pursuing his love of writing, he attended Stanford University’s creative writing program as a Wallace Stegner Fellow, studying under Stegner in a seminar that included Edward Abbey, Larry McMurtry, Robert Stone, Ernest Gaines, Tillie Olsen, and Ken Kesey.  
In 1965, Berry purchased a farm in Lanes Landing, Kentucky, near his parents’ birthplaces and began growing corn and small grains on what eventually became a 125-acre homestead.
He has wrote  at least twenty-five books of poems, sixteen volumes of essays, and eleven novels and short story collections. His writing was grounded in the notion that one’s work ought to be rooted in and responsive to one’s place. 
 For decades, Berry, as poet, essayist, fiction writer, and farmer, advocated personal activism on behalf of the environment. He wrote that there should not be a “split between what we think and what we do. Once our personal connection to what is wrong becomes clear, then we have to choose: we can go on as before, recognizing our dishonesty and living with it the best we can, or we can begin the effort to change the way we think and live.
 What Berry believed  was reflected in how he conducted his life. He was an activist in numerous areas of society.  
At the 1968 University of Kentucky conference on the War and the Draft, in “A Statement Against the War in Vietnam” Berry said: “I have come to the realization that I can no longer imagine a war that I would believe to be either useful or necessary. I would be against any war.” 
And in his essay, the “Failure of War” (1999) he wrote, “How many deaths of other people’s children . . . are we willing to accept in order that we may be free, affluent, and (supposedly) at peace? To that question I answer: None. . . . Don’t kill any children for my benefit.”  
In 1979 he participated in non
-violent civil disobedience against the construction of a nuclear power plant in Marble Hill, Indiana. His 2003 essay titled “A Citizen’s Response to the National Security Strategy of the United States,” was a critique of the George W. Bush administration’s post 9/11 international strategy that justified preemptive war, was published as a full-page advertisement in The New York Times.
 In it he asserted that “The new National Security Strategy published by the White House in September 2002, if carried out, would amount to a radical revision of the political character of our nation.”  Opposing the use of coal as an energy source, in 2009 Berry joined over 2,000 others in non-violently blocking the gates to a coal-fired power plant in Washington, D.C., and later that year combined with several non-profit organizations and rural electric co-op members to petition against and protest the construction of a coal-burning power plant in Clark County, Kentucky. As a result, in 2011 the Kentucky Public Service Commission cancelled the construction of this power plant.
On September 28, 2010 Berry participated in a rally in Louisville during an EPA hearing on how to manage coal ash. Berry said, “The EPA knows that coal ash is poison. We ask it only to believe in its own findings on this issue, and do its duty.”  
Berry, with fourteen other protesters, spent the weekend of February 12, 2011 locked in the Kentucky governor’s office demanding an end to mountaintop removal coal mining.  Through whatever he  wrote. Berry’s message  was constant: humans must learn to live in harmony with the natural rhythms of the earth or perish. 
In his opinion, we must acknowledge the impact of agriculture to our society. Berry believed that small-scale farming is essential to healthy local economies, and that strong local economies are essential to the survival of the species and the well-being of the planet. 
 He believed that besides relying on chemical pesticides and fertilizers, promoting soil erosion, and causing depletion of ancient aquifers, the growth of agribusiness has been a major cause of the disintegration of communities, driving many small farms out of existence, destroying rural communities in the process along with their moral  fibre  and  vision. 
 In 2009, he wrote, "Beware the machinery of longevity. When a man's life is over the decent thing is for him to die. The forest does not withhold itself from death. What it gives up it takes back."
His "cheerful dissent" reminded us that we are stewards of the land, bound by deep connection.Who  spoke  clearly  to  those  who  want  to  destroy  our  world.  
A man  who  spent almost a century proving you could make a whole world out of staying put.  
Wendell Berry stayed with one piece of Kentucky ground long enough to find nearly everything there: work, marriage, neighbors, grief, faith, greed, beauty, the living and the dead.  
While America kept treating movement as improvement, Berry kept asking what gets torn loose when everybody leaves, everything gets bigger, and nobody knows where the food came from or who is buried over the hill.  
His answers were plain. Know the ground. Know the people. Remember the dead. Try not to leave things worse than you found them. He understood that once land, work, food and consequence get far enough apart, ruining them gets easy.   
To many, Berry was an icon and a hero.  In 2011, President Barack Obama awarded him the National Humanities Medal. In 2015, he was the first living writer inducted into the Kentucky Writers Hall of Fame. In May of that year, a boxed set of his work was published by the Library of America – making him one of only two living writers at that time to have received the honor.   Producers Terrence Malick and Robert Redford made a documentary feature film, "The Unforeseen," based on one of his poems.   
Calling him a nature writer never made much sense to me.  Berry wrote about belonging to a place deeply enough that it could make demands of you. Now he belongs to that Kentucky ground too.
God  speed  sweet soul. The  world  is  a lesser  place  without  you. Your words continue to ask us to live more gently, to honor the earth beneath our feet, and to find grace in the particular ground we are given.Your words have carried me through many times of darkness and uncertainty, always reminding me to look again—to the still water, the stars, the wild things and find grace. I will carry them with me always.

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front -    Wendell Erdman Berry,

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,   
vacation with pay. Want more     
of everything ready-made. Be afraid     
to know your neighbors and to die.     
And you will have a window in your head.     
Not even your future will be a mystery     
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card     
and shut away in a little drawer.    
When they want you to buy something     
they will call you. When they want you     
to die for profit they will let you know.      

So, friends, every day do something     
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.    
Love the world. Work for nothing.     
Take all that you have and be poor.   
Love someone who does not deserve it.     
Denounce the government and embrace   
the flag. Hope to live in that free    
republic for which it stands.     
Give your approval to all you cannot     
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man     
has not encountered he has not destroyed.      
Ask the questions that have no answers.     
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.     
Say that your main crop is the forest     
that you did not plant,     
that you will not live to harvest.     
Say that the leaves are harvested    
when they have rotted into the mold.    
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. 
     
Put your faith in the two inches of humus    
that will build under the trees     
every thousand years.     
Listen to carrion – put your ear     
close, and hear the faint chattering     
of the songs that are to come.     
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.     
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful    
though you have considered all the facts.     
So long as women do not go cheap     
for power, please women more than men.     
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy     
a woman satisfied to bear a child?     
Will this disturb the sleep     
of a woman near to giving birth?   
   
Go with your love to the fields.    
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head     
in her lap. Swear allegiance     
to what is nighest your thoughts.     
As soon as the generals and the politicos     
can predict the motions of your mind,    
lose it. Leave it as a sign     
to mark the false trail, the way     
you didn’t go. Be like the fox     
who makes more tracks than necessary,    
some in the wrong direction.     
Practice resurrection.

The Peace of Wild Things - Wendell Erdman Berry

When despair for the world grows in me 
and I wake in the night at the least sound 
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, 
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things 
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. 
I come into the presence of still water. 
And I feel above me the day-blind stars 
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Sunday, 30 August 2026

Honouring the life of Revolutionary Black Panther Fred Hampton ( 30/8/48-4/12/69)


Leading Black Panther Fred  Allen Hampton was born on  the 30th of August 1948 in Summit ,Illinois to Francis and Iberia Hampton two factory workers who had migrated north as part of the Great Migration of Black Americans out of the south..Fred Hampton  was key in forming links between the Panthers and working-class people of all races. 
Hampton grew up with an older brother and sister. His family was friendly with the family of Emmett Till before Till's 1955 murder. Hampton's family moved to Maywood, another Chicago suburb when Hampton was 10. Hampton attended Irving Elementary School and Proviso East High School. In high school, he led the school's Interracial Committee. He also protested the school only nominating white girls to run for homecoming queen, which resulted in the inclusion of Black girls.
After graduating with honors from Proviso East High School, Hampton studied pre-law at Triton Junior College. He also attended Crane Junior College (later  Malcolm X College) and the University of Illinois at Chicago Circle.
Hampton became involved in the civil rights movement,  and led the Youth Council of the NAACP's West Suburban chapter, growing membership to more than 500. He advocated for a community pool in his hometown of Maywood, which led to an arrest for "mob action."
In November 1968, Hampton helped found the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party. From his base in Chicago, he served as chairman of this local chapter. Though Hampton was just 20, he became a respected leader in the Party, aided by his talent for public speaking and experience in community organising.  
Like so many brave, selfless revolutionaries at that time, Fred was extremely young when he joined the struggle. He was eighteen when he emerged as the head of the NAACP and then joined the Panthers.  He graduated from H.S. in 1966 with honors and with hopes of playing center field for the NY Yankees. But Fred had a vision that got in the way of his baseball dreams; he wanted genuine freedom for the Black community. 
He majored in pre-law in college to familiarize himself with the legal system, and “use it as a defense against police.”  
Fred swiftly rose up in the ranks of the NAACP in the small suburb of River Grove, IL —a community of 27,000— where he and other leaders recruited a youth group of 500 members. 
When forces colluding with the US government assassinated Malcolm, the Panthers picked up the mantel of his leadership. Principled self-defense of the Black community inspired the formation of the Black Panther Party. 
This stance was what inspired Fred to leave the more moderate NAACP and join the Panthers.  Like Cop Watch today, Fred and fellow BPP members followed the police, documenting and intervening in cases of police brutality, and using their knowledge of law to patrol the patrollers and surveille the surveillance state. 
 The Panthers created a 6 week period —what we can call a candidacy period, though ours is 6 months— when new members learned what it meant to conduct themselves and organize their lives as Panthers, or professional revolutionaries.  Calling out phony Black nationalism or Black capitalism, Hampton said that no matter the color of the exploiter, they were enemies of the community.  
For example, he denounced Papa Doc Duvalier —the Haitian dictator who functioned as a US puppet during the Cold War— but hid behind a false claim to negritude. He famously said that “If anyone comes into the community, no matter what color, to exploit the people, I, Fred Hampton, will beat them up with a Black Panther Party newspaper.” 
Hampton was a community-builder  who  brokered a nonaggression pact between Chicago’s most powerful street gangs, urging them to turn their anger and guns around on their oppressors, not on one another.  
He created the Rainbow Coalition, a class-conscious and multi-racial alliance between the Panthers, the Young Patriots Organization, the Young Lords, Students for a Democratic Society, the Brown Berets, and the Red Guard Party. Although Jessie Jackson receives credit for another version, a liberal version, of the Rainbow Coalition, it was Hampton who coined the idea. 
 He emphasized that racial and ethnic conflict between gangs only perpetuated poverty and stressed that multinational unity was the most strategic tactic to achieve everyone’s liberation. 
 Fred inspired a military-like discipline in others.  He organized former alcoholics and what this society calls “junkies” (we call them oppressed) to wake up early and do revolutionary fitness. 
 He oversaw rehabilitation programs for super-oppressed individuals struggling to find a purpose and identity in society. 
 The Panthers and the freedom struggle restored an identity to Black and Brown individuals alienated from their roots, their community and themselves,
Commanding the respect of intellectuals and rapping to the brothers and sisters on the block, he related to different strata of the oppressed.  These characteristics were what made Fred Hampton’s leadership so special.  He was a unifier. 
Chairman Fred also had outstanding oratorical skills and charisma, which added to his leadership skills.  The FBI  however hired informants to infiltrate the Panther party and opened a file on Hampton by 1967, before he ever joined the Panthers. The file expanded in the next 2 years to over 12 volumes and over 4,000 pages. A wiretap was placed on Hampton’s mother’s phone in Feb. 1968. By May, US intelligence services placed him on the “Agitator Index,” and designated him as a “key militant leader.”  
Many saw Hampton as the next possible Martin Luther King or the next Malcolm X, or perhaps the next great leader of Black Americans. He combined a huge personality  with a brilliant, critical mind and became a charismatic educator and speaker. His public statements on capitalism, racism, politics, Marxism and socialism were peppered with slang and profanity that refused to bow to the rules of the system. He sought to unite people through socialism, against the capitalist system, fighting against racism and discrimination  through practice and deeds, seeking to find solutions that would improve poor and working peoples lives, through struggle, without getting bogged down in watered down reformity.
He sought to do this through observation and practice. Such interracial working class organizing and open criticism of the capitalist economic system made him dangerous. It was one thing to organize along racial lines. It was another to try to unite the white, Black and Hispanic workers together in working class solidarity!  A dangerous message then,  still is today I guess.
 Fred Hampton was a dedicated revolutionary who studied theory and carried this through into everyday action. Throughout 1969, he maintained a demanding speaking schedule; he organised weekly rallies in support of BPP members in jail or on trial.
His organisation  provided breakfasts for poor school children and a free medical clinic for those that needed it. Hampton himself also taught political education classes. He also managed  to persuade two of Chicago's most powerful street gangs to stop fighting one another.
His attempt at unification of different peoples struggles  bought him to the attention of J.Edgar Hover and the F.B.I. From the 1950s until the 1970s, the FBI’s Counterintelligence Program (COINTELPRO) had already  been targeting  leaders of activist organizations like Fred Hampton. The program served to undermine, infiltrate, and spread misinformation (often through extrajudicial means) about political groups and the activists who belonged to them. COINTELPRO targeted civil rights leaders such as the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. as well as radical groups like the Black Panther Party, the American Indian Movement among others.  As Hampton’s influence in the Black Panthers grew, the FBI began to focus on his activities, opening a file on him in 1967.
The FBI enlisted a man named William O'Neal to infiltrate and sabotage the Black Panthers Party. O'Neal, who had been previously arrested for car theft and impersonating a federal officer, agreed to the task because the federal agency promised to drop the felony charges against him. O’Neal quickly gained access to Hampton by becoming both his bodyguard and a security director in Hampton’s Black Panther Party chapter.  
During an early morning police raid,on December 4, 1969,  he and fellow Black Panther Mark Clark were assassinated in a hail of bullets by the FBI and Chicago police. Hampton who was only 21.had been asleep when first hit, and, as he lay prone on the floor, was shot twice at point-blank range in the head. His body was then dragged into the doorway in a pool of blood.
The police opened fire on the remaining bedroom, hitting several Panthers repeatedly. The survivors were beaten, dragged into the street, and arrested on a charge of the attempted murder of the police officers who had carried out the raid, and aggravated assault. 
Many in the Chicago African American community were outraged over the raid and what they saw as the unnecessary deaths of Hampton and Clark in what was seen as a serious attempt to undermine the Black Panthers powerful message, his  death was an act of police brutality. 
This was not an isolated instance.  This was US government policy. The state “neutralized” Revolutionary Black leadership —this was the FBI euphemism for an assassination campaign of what Hoover called any potential “Black Messiah.”  
Just in 1969, 26 Panther leaders were executed, including Bunchy Carter, Mark Clark, George Jackson, Jonathan Jackson and so many of our fearless warriors and warrioresses.  Their crime:   the  white supremacist, class system was determined to prevent the formation of a cohesive Black movement in the U.S., and saw the Panthers and similar “radical” coalitions as the vanguard of a revolutionary body that would topple the dictatorship of the rich. 
His death was government-sanctioned murder. His death was an assassination. His death was an execution. 5,000 people attended Hampton’s funeral where Reverends Ralph Abernathy and  Jesse Jackson eulogized the slain activist.   
It is tempting to look back at the raid as a singular example of law enforcement run amok; a violent and inexcusable governmental reaction to the political climate of the time. And yet, so much of what happened in the aftermath is familiar to anyone who has studied systematic police violence ever since. today
The official investigation into the shootings was a farce, and it was left up to the survivors and the BPP to pursue a civil case against the SPU and the FBI. Finally, in 1983, it was acknowledged that there “had in fact been an active governmental conspiracy to deny Hampton, Clark and the BPP plaintiffs their civil rights”.
Damages of $1.85m were awarded to the survivors and the families of the deceased. #In 1990, and later in 2004, the Chicago City Council passed resolutions commemorating December 4 as Fred Hampton Day.
While he met a tragic and untimely end, it is important to remember that he was killed for his ideas, because those ideas carried so much weight and they  still do. Although many years have since gone since his passing, the peoples love for this man remains strong. His powerful message  remains strong. People still fighting discrimination and ongoing racism.Fred Hampton is a hero in the struggle for Black liberation, revolution and socialism. He should be remembered and his example should be followed by all progressive and revolutionary people.In 2004 the Chicago City Council passed a resolution commemorating December 4 as Fred Hampton Day.
In the courtroom at a 1969 trial for a trumped up robbery charge, only months before he was killed, the 21 year old gave an amazing speech  defending himself and all Black people, while at the same time calling on all working people to unite in revolutionary solidarity. There is no better way to end this article than with his words, passionately explaining the beliefs that he died for.

" We got to face some facts.  That the masses are poor, that the masses belong to what you call the lower classes, and I talk about the masses, I'm  talking about the white masses, I'm  talking about the black masses, and the brown masses, and the yellow masses. We've got to face the fact that some people say you fight fire best with fire, but we say you put fire out best with water. We say you don't fight racism with racism. We're going to fight racism with solidarity. We say don't fight capitalism with no black capitalism, you fight capitalism with socialism. "

Fred Hampton Jnr was born a few months after his father’s murder. He, too, is active in the African-American revolutionary movement and has spent almost nine years in jail on politically-related charges. In 2004 the Chicago City Council passed a resolution commemorating December 4 as Fred Hampton Day. 
Fred Hampton understood that liberation could never be won through division.  He fought for Black liberation while building solidarity among Black, Brown, and White working class people against racism, capitalism, and imperialism.  
They killed Fred Hampton, but they could never kill his ideas.  A brother who fought the oppressor, who attacked the suppressor, people continue his fight, discrimination has not ended, nor has the struggle. the dream of freedom is kept alive, some people pay the price, when they try to fight back, you can kill a revolutionary, but you cant kill  the revolution. the spirit, lives on.
Today, freedom fighters continue to stand on his shoulders. Assassinated at 21, a defender of all oppressed communities, and unifying force for working people from all walks of life who understand they have a common enemy  he said , “While the buffoons are busy going to the moon, we’re down here on earth giving free food and medical services to oppressed people.”.   
Hampton’s courage in the face of injustice and his relentless advocacy for the oppressed inspires us to continue fighting for change. 

Fred Hampton - Political Prisoner
 
 
I am a revolutionary - Fred Hampton  




Tuesday, 25 August 2026

Rest in eternal peace and power Palestinian Artist Sliman Mansour (1947 – 24 August 2026)


It  is  with much  sadness to  have discovered that Sliman Mansour, one of the most important figures in modern Palestinian art and history, has left us at the age of 79,  older than the entity of Israel itself. 
The announcement was made by Mansour’s family on his verified Instagram account shortly after a post saying he was in critical condition. “The final chapter has been written,” the family said. “With hearts heavy beyond words, we share that our beloved father has passed away.”  “To the world, he leaves behind a life filled with beauty, memory, and a legacy that will continue to live through all those he touched. But to us, we lost a father, our source of love, strength, and home.” No cause of death has been disclosed.
Born in Birzeit, near Ramallah, one of the few remaining Palestinian Christian towns, located in the central West Bank in 1947,just months before the mass displacement and genocide of the Palestinian people began under the Nakba and the formal establishment of the State of Israel. 
His father died when he was a child, and he and his brother were sent to a Lutheran church boarding school in the Bethlehem area. 
He  would  spend his  adolescence in Bethlehem and Jerusalem. These experiences left a significant mark on his work, heightening a sense of gradual loss in Palestine, especially after the occupation of the West Bank and Jerusalem in 1967. 
His early experiences also presented him with the symbols and images he would later use to preserve and highlight Palestinian identity. His artistic talent was evident from a young age, and following the 1967 War, he began studying art at Jerusalem’s Bezalel Academy. Mansour belonged to a generation of Palestinian artists who, in the wake of the Nakba, sought to use art to rebuild the connection between Palestinians and their land, memory, and sense of place. 
Mansour was at the forefront of Palestinian art for more than five decades. His work helped to shape a visual language for Palestinian identity, drawing repeatedly on the land and the experiences of displacement and occupation.  
Mansour graduated from the Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design in Jerusalem in 1970. He found his subjects in the landscape and daily life around him. Olive trees and traditional embroidery recur throughout his paintings, while Jerusalem appears as both a place and an object of longing. With orange trees, he represents land lost in the Nakba of 1948. With olive trees, he represents land occupied in 1967. 
With women wearing traditional embroidered dresses, he represents Palestinian land and the Palestinian revolution. With the landscape of Palestine and its stone terraces, he represents the mark of Palestinian farmers on the land. With images of Jerusalem, and the glistening Dome of the Rock, he represents the Palestinian homeland and the dream of return.
For over five decades, Mansour did more than create art—he painted the visual soul, memory, and enduring identity of Palestine. He was an incredible Palestinian painter, sculptor, and honestly a massive figure in the contemporary art world. He used his talent to capture the real, everyday lives of his people. Mansour’s brushstrokes became synonymous with the idea of sumud or steadfastness. 
His Palestinians were never merely refugees or statistics. They were rooted. Beautiful. Defiant. They carried keys, harvests, children, histories and an entire homeland within them. And perhaps that is why his work became so beloved. Because when a people are told that their history can be erased, remembering becomes an act of resistance.
For over five decades,Mansour did more than create art—he painted the visual soul, memory, and enduring identity of Palestine He also did so much for the community, teaching at Al-Quds University and in 1973, he co-founded the League of Palestinian Artists, shaping the cultural front of resistance  for  years alongside peers like Nabil Anani and Issam Bader. 
In 1976, Sliman Mansour participated in a significant exhibition titled “Art Exhibition by Artists in Occupied Palestine”, held in London aboard the Tattershall Castle yacht on the River Thames.  
This event was among the first collective exhibitions in the Western hemisphere to focus on Palestinian art, showcasing works by prominent artists including Mansour, Nabil Anani, Issam Bader, Khalil Rayan, Leila Al-Shawa, Kamel Al-Mughanni, Isma’il Ashour, and Khalil Dadah. 
Later in 1979, the three co-founded Gallery 79 in Ramallah, creating a key platform for Palestinian art locally and internationally.
Jailed, beaten, and threatened by the Israeli government throughout his career, Mansour remained steadfast in affirming human rights through his paintings. Mansour's art was always bound up with resistance. He recounted how, in 1980, the Israeli occupation army shut down an exhibition of his work in Ramallah after three hours and later summoned him and his fellow artists to warn them against political painting. 
His paintings became a symbol of protest at a time when Israel forbade the display of the Palestinian flag. He recalled being told that painting the Palestinian flag was forbidden, and even its colors, red, green, black, and white, were banned, an exchange in which an Israeli officer warned that even a watermelon rendered in those colors would be confiscated, giving rise to the watermelon that would later become a global symbol of Palestinian resistance.  
He turned that defiance into a way of working. A founder and leader of the League of Palestinian Artists, Mansour co-founded the New Visions collective during the First Intifada alongside Vera Tamari, Tayseer Barakat, and Nabil Anani, boycotting Israeli art supplies and turning instead to materials drawn from the land itself, mud, henna, and natural dyes. 
Mud became central to his art, layered onto wooden forms and left to crack as it dried, so that the very earth of Palestine carried the fragility and endurance of its people.  
Working under occupation was tough, and his response during the First Intifada in 1987 was powerful. He helped start a collective called New Visions where they boycotted Israeli art supplies. 
Instead, they made art using natural, local materials like mud, henna, and straw. It was such a strong act of defiance to literally use the physical earth of Palestine to tell their story, proving that art itself is a profound form of resistance. 
 Among his best-known works is his iconic, heartbreaking masterpiece Camel of Hardship (Jamal Al Mahamel) depicting an elderly, traditionally dressed Palestinian porter walking through a void while carrying the city of Jerusalem on his back, secured by a rope around his forehead.The work has come to represent the heavy and enduring burden of exile, resilience and the Palestinian struggle under occupation. 


I Witness Silwan: Was  a huge collaborative mural project in East Jerusalem. In  which  he helped paint massive, watchful eyes on buildings as a silent protest against displacement. Read more here:
In this vibrant depiction of a family harvesting olives, Mansour celebrates the intimate bond between Palestinians and their land. 


Olive Picking Sliiman Mansour 

The olive tree, a symbol of Palestinian resilience and survival, stands at the heart of the painting, representing the people's unyielding connection to their roots, even in the face of hardship.  


The Mother and Child  Sliman Mansour 

This powerful work depicts a Palestinian mother holding her child in a tender, protective embrace. 
The mother represents strength and survival, while the child symbolises hope for a better future.The painting highlights the vital role of women in preserving culture and family amidst ongoing struggle. 


The Daughter of Jerusalem   Sliman Mansour 

Mansour personifies Jerusalem through the image of a strong Palestinian woman draped in traditional attire. Surrounded by elements of the city's iconic architecture, she symbolises the nurturing role of women in preserving culture and resisting erasure.  


The bride of the Homeland  Sliman Mansour. 

This painting was dedicated to Lena al Nabulsi, who on May 15, 1976, in the heart of occupied Nablus, 15-year-old Lina Al Nabulsi, a schoolgirl with dreams as vast as the Palestinian sky, was gunned down by the Israel Defence Forces. Her crime? Joining a protest against the illegal occupation that suffocated her city, her people, her future.  
The IDF claimed it was an accidental stray bullet, but the people of Nablus, led by Mayor Bassan al-Shaqa, cried murder, pointing to her known activism as a motive. No justice followed, only mourning, as Nablus shut down for two days, and Lina’s funeral became a defiant march for freedom. Her death became a rallying cry, immortalized in this painting  by artist Mansour .Lina was not just a victim; she became a symbol of Palestinian resilience, a reminder of the cost of occupation. According to Mansour. fewer than 100 prints of the painting were distributed before the balance of the posters and the original painting were confiscated by the Israeli government .Here's her story: https://thepalestineproject.medium.com/lina-al-nabulsis-story-385eb7fc8dd3



The  struggle  goes on… Sliman Mansour  

This dynamic painting portrays a procession of Palestinians, capturing their enduring spirit and cultural perseverance. The movement and determination of the figures reflect Mansour's focus on the collective resilience of his people.
His galleries spanned the globe, but his heart and his canvas remained forever rooted in Birzeit and Jerusalem.  
I was moulded by the Palestinian landscape. The land plays an important role in my art and in my nature as a human being. I said to myself ‘rather than drawing the land, I will draw with land.’ People would ‘inhale’ my artwork at exhibitions – they would feel the Palestinian heritage, by touch, by scent, with the senses”- Sliman Mansour  
He didn't just capture the struggle; he preserved the dignity, folklore, traditional dress, and landscapes of a people refusing to be erased. 
Beyond his own canvases, Mansour devoted his life to building a foundation for Palestinian art. He co-founded the al-Wasiti Art Centre in occupied Jerusalem in 1994 to preserve Palestinian art and connect artists at home with those in exile, helped establish the International Academy of Art Palestine in Ramallah, and taught a generation of students at Al-Quds University. 
He received many honors including the Palestine Prize for the Visual Arts (1998), Grand Nile Prize at the Seventh Cairo Biennial (1998) and UNESCO-Sharjah Prize for Arab Culture (2019). 
His works can be found in the collections of the British Museum, London, Guggenheim Abu Dhabi, L’institut du Monde Arabe, Paris and Barjeel Art Foundation, Sharjah, among others.
In his final years, even after a stroke in 2021 weakened his hand, Mansour continued going to his Ramallah studio, unwilling to stop. As Israel's genocide in Gaza unfolded, he described being haunted by unbearable images he could exorcise only through painting. He remained, to the end, an artist who bore witness.
I mourn the passing of the revered icon of Palestinian art, Sliman Mansour. His art is an eternal vessel of collective memory of Palestine, of the beauty of the land, and of the resilience and rootedness of the Palestinian  people. He narrated the struggle of Palestine,  visualized its soul onto his canvasses, and preserved the dignity of its people. Through his art, he carved a space for a future of liberation, return, and freedom, juxtaposed with our heritage, history, and the land that can never be erased.
Mansour’s art reminds us of the different forms of resistance, giving Palestinians a language of images that could circulate where words or politics could not.Rendering eternal the struggle of a people living under the grip of the dystopian military occupation by Israel. 
Though we have lost a master storyteller, a mentor, and a cultural pillar, his work and legacy will live on as a testament to a homeland, a people, and a story that can never be erased, and  will forever live in Palestinian collective memory and across generations to come. Mansour leaves behind a career spanning hundreds of paintings, chronicling the political and social transformations experienced by the Palestinian people.My deepest condolences go to his family, loved ones, colleagues, and to the entire Palestinian artistic and cultural community. 
Safe passage to this great , revolutionary artist of unparalleled spirit and steadfastness. Rest in eternal peace and power. Free  Palestine,

Revolution is not only shooting, it is art.” — Sliman Mansour  





Hope Sliman Mansour.

Sunday, 23 August 2026

Remembering the Grunwick Strike :50 years on.

 

‘’-  Jayaben Desai

Grunwick was a mail order film processing company, probably one of the first in the UK. It employed predominantly female workers, many of whom were recent immigrants to the UK. Conditions in the factory were harsh with poor facilities.
In the relentless heatwave of summer 1976, and the sweltering  intolerable  working conditions of the Grunwick film processing plants in Willesden, the predominantly newly arrived Gujarati workers sweated under the yoke of company boss George Ward, seething with anger and humiliation. 
Matters came to a head on 20 August 1976 when factory manager, Malcolm Alden, sacked Devshi Bhudia  for working too slowly.He was quickly joined by three of his colleagues. Later that same day, Mrs Jayaben Desai and her son walked out after an argument with the same manager.
Within days other workers joined the picket line. The strikers were advised by the TUC to join APEX, the Association of Professional, Executive, Clerical and Computer Staff which declared the strike official.  Brent Trades Council provided key support From the start, the strikers had the support of Brent Trades Council, whose headquarters were close to the factory. That building became the strike HQ, and it was there a strike committee was first elected on 24th August. *
At a time when the national average wage was only £72 per week, they were paid £28. They faced ‘no-notice’ compulsory overtime, and during the hottest summer for decades, they had no air conditioning.  The workforce of the north London photo processing plant was low paid and subject to arbitrary discipline. Many of the workers were Asian women. 
The bosses had consciously employed recent female migrants because they thought they could be pushed around and exploited more easily. The employers had banked on the women being passive and easy to control, playing on the racial stereotyping that existed at the time. 
Instead, they got a pride of lionesses – the women were dubbed by the media as the Strikers in Saris – and they managed to galvanise the wider labour and trade union movement in suppor tinspiring mass picket protests and generations of activists in Britain.   
On 23 Aug 1976 picketing began outside Grunwick Film Processing Laboratories in London in what would become one of the iconic strikes of the 1970s, when a predominantly Asian women workforce struck for almost two years. Grunwick wasn’t a strike about wages – it was about something much more important than that: it was for  union recognition. Dignity at work. 
And, for the small band of Asian women strikers, who braved the sun, rain, and snow month-in and month-out on the picket lines, from August 1976 to July 1978, rights in the workplace and pride at work were far more important than any amount of money. 
Led by South Asian woman Jayaben Desai, the strike showed the strength of women standing together against unfair treatment at work. The strike became a movement and remains a defining moment for class solidarity, feminism, union representation, antiracism and social justice.
In the 1970s, women workers and workers of colour found it difficult to win support from white male-run trade unions. Many felt the unions were racist. They failed to act on workplace discrimination and denied them the same support offered to white workers. But after months of picketing, the Grunwick workers’ cause began to be supported by other trade unions, such as the National Union of Mineworkers and the Trades Union Congress (TUC). 
Throughout the 1970s there had been a rising tide of strikes to improve conditions, and a high level of trade union consciousness. Action by miners, car workers and other traditionally well-organised workers inspired others to get organised.The capitalist class saw this a threat that had to be crushed, and Grunwick became a test case. Sir Keith Joseph, who Tory leader Margaret Thatcher called her closest political friend, explained that Grunwick could be “all our tomorrows” if the workers forced their employer to recognise their union with the help of solidarity action and picketing; it was a ‘litmus test’.  
At the time, the Grunwick dispute provoked copious news coverage and political commentary, which penetrated the national public consciousness. The dispute marked the first time that the mass of trade unionists stood with and showed support for immigrant and Black workers. Not, however, that the TUC leadership demonstrated such interest. There had been an attempt to unionise Grunwick in 1973, with workers joining the Transport and General Workers Union [one of the main constituent unions of what became Unite], but they were immediately laid off by the company. 
On this occasion, the TUC bureaucracy assigned the Grunwick strikers to the largely clerical trade union, APEX, at the time one of the most right wing unions. [APEX later amalgamated with the GMB].  Fortunately, any lack of action on the part of APEX was compensated by Brent Trades Council, which, filling the vacuum, organised widespread support throughout the labour movement. 
The strikers faced the extreme hostility of Grunwick’s management throughout. They offered to take the strikers back if they dropped the demand for union recognition. 
When the strikers rejected this, the company sacked them on 1st September. ACAS, the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service, offered to mediate: management refused.  
George Ward, the Anglo-Indian owner of Grunwick, got important support from the National Association For Freedom (NAFF, now the Freedom Association),  founded in 1975, and gained public prominence through its anti-trade union campaigns. John Gorst, Tory MP for Hendon North, a pre-Thatcher Thatcherite, also assisted Ward alongside NAFF.  
The first demonstration in support of the strikers took place on 10th September, and on the same day Jayaben Desai and another woman were injured by a management car. Arrests of pickets began in the same month.  
In October 1976, APEX referred the dispute to ACAS; however, Grunwick management refused ACAS access to those still working (many of whom were said to favour unionisation). ACAS recommended union recognition, but Grunwick refused. 
At the start of November postal workers refused to deliver Grunwick mail, a crucial part of their operation, After court action, the postal workers backed down. 
From March 1977, picketing was stepped up and got widespread support across the trade union movement. Strikers picketed the TUC General Council for the withdrawal of essential services (gas, electricity, telephone) to Grunwick, but this was refused, other unions arguing they would need to be indemnified against court action. 
At its conference, APEX, hardly a militant union, called for the cutting of supplies to Grunwick.  In mid-June a week of action began with a mass picket and 84 arrests in one day. More Grunwick workers came out on strike and Cricklewood postal workers began an unofficial boycott of Grunwick mail. As mass pickets reached 1,500, printers at the Sunday Telegraph refused to print an article critical of the strike. 
Labour MP Audrey Wise and Yorkshire miners’ leader Arthur Scargill were arrested on the picket line. Busloads of miners had come to support the picket from around the country. 
At the end of June, Labour Home Secretary Merlyn Rees praised the police on a visit to the picket line. This was despite widespread support in the Labour Party, both locally and up to the National Executive Committee, for the strike.  
In July ’77, the postal workers were suspended, which meant no postal deliveries at all in the London NW2 area. The postal workers’ action was called off at the end of the month only after they were instructed to do so by their union leadership and fined by the union for initially disobeying.  
During the postal blockage, NAFF ran `Operation Pony Express’ to get mail from and to Grunwick out.  On 11th July a mass picket and demonstration were supported by 20,000.  
A court of enquiry under Lord Scarman was set up at the end of June ‘77, and called in August for union recognition and reinstatement of the strikers. In mid-July the High Court supported the ACAS report calling for recognition, but at the end of July the Appeal Court overturned the High Court decision and declared the ACAS report invalid. 
In December, the House of Lords, at the time Britain’s highest judicial body, confirmed the decision against ACAS. Throughout, when decisions went against them, Grunwick refused to comply.  
Mass pickets of up to 3,000 continued, but at the end of September Roy Grantham, APEX General Secretary, attacked the call for a resumption of mass pickets, and the strike committee were threatened with disciplinary action if they supported them. 
Throughout the dispute, the application of the law and the policing of the dispute was shown to be far from even-handed.The tactics used at Grunwick were seen to be a precursor to disputes such as the Miners’ Strike of the 1980s. 
The dispute was often marked by violence during the mass pickets, with the Metropolitan Police unleashing the notorious Special Patrol Group against the strikers and their supporters. The police sent out large numbers of officers to control the crowds and defend workers crossing the picket line. They harassed and sometimes violently clashed with protesters.  
There were over 550 people arrested, which at the time was the highest number of arrests during any industrial dispute since the 1926 General Strike.
 Despite this, further mass pickets took place in October and November.On 7th November there were 113 arrests and 243 pickets were injured. On 21st November ’77, strikers held a hunger strike outside the TUC HQ calling for support.  
At its peak, 20,000 workers; white, Black, Asian, male, female, stood shoulder to shoulder on that picket line. Grunwick broke assumptions that the working class wouldn't support migrant workers.
The  strike  leaders and their comrades shattered the stereotype of submissive South Asian women and took a stand for women workers everywhere. Instead of dismissing Black and migrant workers, and particularly women, as vulnerable and difficult to organise – the unions were forced to accept the dignity and determination of these workers.
It is clear that with solidarity action and mass pickets the workers could have won. Willingness to support from fellow workers was demonstrated repeatedly despite the role of their leaders. 
But union leaders were keen to direct the dispute down legal channels. Roy Grantham, the particularly right-wing leader of the striker’s union, APEX, called for pickets to be scaled down and threatened the strike committee with withdrawal of support if they would not agree.  
Strike leader Jayaben Desai explained her view: “I have no faith in the legal position. I only believe in the power of the trade union movement. Nothing happened for forty-four weeks. We played cricket. The mass picket brought the issue to a head, and the mass picket will win it.”  
The Labour government set up a commission of inquiry under Lord Scarman and in return the pickets were called off in mid-July 1977. Two months later the Scarman Inquiry recommended reinstatement of the strikers. Grunwick refused to do this, and the leadership of APEX encouraged hopes that the government conciliation service, Acas, would somehow come up with a solution.
The strikers felt abandoned and disillusioned with the trade union movement. As Jayaben Desai commented :  Trade Union support is like honey on the elbow – you can smell it, you can feel it, but you cannot taste it.  
Despite an heroic struggle, the dispute was lost as Grunwick continued to refuse to recognise the union, and it was backed up in this by both the Conservative Party and an extreme right wing organisation which called itself the National Association For Freedom.  
The Labour government of the time, led by Jim Callaghan, found the whole dispute an embarrassment rather than an essential battle for workers to have the right to join a trade union  and  in  utter  betrayal  did nothing. . 
The strike was a threat to the cosy relationship the Labour leaders had nurtured with the tops of the TUC to sell the government’s so-called ‘Social Contract’: a policy which effectively limited wage rises below what was the current rate of inflation. Subsequently, after a two year battle,  the TUC withdrew support for the dispute with the strike committee announcing the end of the heroic strike on 14th July 1978.
Desai blamed the government and it marked a turning point in industrial relations.Margaret Thatcher, elected in May 1979, outlawed secondary picketing the following year. 
But according to jayaben Desai, not everything was lost: ‘We have shown’, Desai said, ‘that workers like us, new to these shores, will never accept being treated without dignity or respect.’  …because of us, the people who stayed in Grunwick got a much better deal. When the factory moved, the van used to come to their home and pick them up because it was difficult for them to get to the new place. Can you imagine that? And they get a pension today! And we get nothing. That was because of us, because of our struggle.  


Strike leader Jayaben Desai and her workmates became a symbol of working class unity and opposition to racism as they battled for justice.



They didn't win the factory that time. But they won something the bosses can never take away: they proved that migrant women are not prey, they are lionesses. For too long Black and Asian workers had been ignored, but the Grunwick strike put them at the forefront of trade unionism. 
From a very small factory in North London, though it ended in defeat,  Grunwick is remembered for how thousands of workers, men and women from all races, united to defend the rights of migrant women workers..  
Grunwick remained a non-union hellhole until, with trade falling, it went under and closed in 2011. One of its most high-profile owners, George Ward, became a leading light of the local Tory Party until he was thrown out for trying to fiddle internal elections.Blaming Thatcher for not backing him, he died a bitter man in 2012.  
The strike leader Jayaben Desai remained a prominent figure in the support of other struggles of Asian and black workers in the workplace over the next few decades. She tirelessly fought on behalf of immigrant workers against exploitative employment practice, fearlessly faced all the elements of establishment authority, alerted many in the trade union movement to the issues of vulnerability of immigrant workers and highlighted the fight to maintain basic trade union rights. Her resolve and courage should be remembered and celebrated. She died in 2010 having received a number of national awards from trade union bodies in recognition of what she started.  
The Grunwick strikers, standing daily on the picket lines and facing attacks from police and the Tory press, had become politicised in the space of a few short months and would not soon forget what they had learnt.This would in turn be passed on to other workers.
Fifty years, we should salute the struggle of the Grunwick strikers. That it was a strike of Asian workers – a section which up to then had largely been absent from the leadership of high-profile industrial struggles – demonstrated what was possible, despite decades of divide-and-rule tactics being used on the industrial shop floor. 
Although the strike was ultimately unsuccessful, it has come to be seen as a turning point – not only in how it was policed but also in how unions perceived minority workers. Where ten years previously, some had taken to the streets in support of Enoch Powell, now predominantly white, male trade unionists were prepared to face the sack or arrest in support of predominantly female, Asian workers.  50 years on, their story still matters and their legacy continues to inspire new generations of workers to stand up and fight back. 
Led by Asian women, the Grunwick strike challenged stereotypes, changed the face of trade unions and inspired a generation of people to stand up against injustice.The solidarity of rank-and-file workers was an inspiration, striking fear both inside the boardrooms of big business and in the cosy offices of more than a few union bureaucrats.  
The stand of the Grunwick strikers continues to inspire a new generation of trade unionists, black and white, to fight against the attacks of the bosses  and  find  ways in which to  challenge  trade unions who still fail the most vulnerable workers. 
Also, Grunwick raised many wide-ranging questions about trade unionism, rights in the workplace and dignity at work - themes that still resonate and are relevant today
I strongly recommend the book 'Striking Women' by Sundari Anitha and Ruth Pearson - about both Grunwick and the later Gate Gourmet dispute - which is reviewed here.https://southlondonsocialist.wordpress.com/2024/10/19/return-to-gate-gourmet/





Saturday, 22 August 2026

No pasaron!


Fascism doesn't begin when everybody becomes evil. That's the comforting fairy tale. It starts quietly when everyday people accept small compromises of their values, tolerate the loss of rights for others. 
The immigrant. The protester. The journalist.The trans kid.The Muslim.The academic.The poor. The vulnerable,
Everybody thinks they're safely standing behind the line. Nobody notices the line keeps moving. 
Fascism targets groups of people. Fascism feeds on fear, silence, and despair.  
That’s exactly why we can’t give it what it wants. We’re not powerless and history shows that collective resistance matters. 
Fascism is currently growling at the door. Fascism is anti-human. We all  have  an obligation  and no choice but to fight back. Otherwise  we all lose. We cannot tolerate the forces of intolerance.The alternative is unthinkable.
Solidarity is our most effective  weapon and vaccine against fascism. The people united will never be defeated! No pasaron! 

Thursday, 20 August 2026

A New Day Unfolds


On warm summer days and nights  
Even when the world feels cruel,
And makes the mind rather tired  
Dissemble intolerance, forces of hate,
Be conscious, avoid apathetic subjugation 
Speak out, stand against injustice, 
Keep standing for what is right  
Beyond yourself be exquisitely generous,  
In a scarred and divided battered world
Share feelings of passion, compassion,
Learn to weather hardship like a tree
Beyond darkness, shoot arrows of radiance,  
Beautiful thrums and seeds of solidarity 
Allow our aches be soothed by positivity, 
Life can be wonderful and is our responsibility
To protect nature, water, trees, air, biodiversity,
Beneath the wreckage made by humanity
Strong roots rise, determinately towards the sun, 
The Green shoots do not just soothe the eyes 
They also fill our hearts with sustenance,
Hug the earth, believe in magic, possibility 
Keep sharing the universal power of love,
Amidst the soft glow of dawn’s gentle light
A new day unfolds, sparkling pure and bright.
 

Tuesday, 18 August 2026

Rest in Peace and Power Professor Jason Arday



I was shocked and deeply saddened by the tragic death of Professor Jason Arday at  the  age  of  41 after entirely false allegations of plagiarism were made against him. A life destroyed. A family and community shattered. Media outlets, university officials and commentators have some very serious questions to answer  for how long this sustained  merciless attack was allowed to go on. My thoughts currently  are especially with Professor Arday’s family and friends at this time.   
Arday had resigned from Cambridge shortly before his death following allegations of plagiarism in his academic work. Announcing his resignation, Arday had said: “While criticism is an inevitable part of academic life, what I have experienced has gone far beyond scholarly disagreement.  “The relentless accusations, speculation and public commentary have taken a profound toll on me and on those I love.”  
Mayor of London Sir Sadiq Khan said the former Cambridge professor had faced “an unacceptable public hounding and campaign of abuse”, adding that he was subjected to “a pernicious public shaming that other people in his position simply wouldn’t have faced”.
Liverpool John Moores University, which awarded Arday his PhD in 2015, investigated allegations concerning his thesis and concluded he had not plagiarised work.The relevant academic journals also found no basis for the claims.  
Yet despite these unequivocal findings, rightwing media attempted to smear Professor Arday’s reputation and undermine his career.That should concern everyone who believes in academic freedom, fairness and due process.  
Professor Jason Arday’s autobiography, titled Great and Unfortunate Things, summarised his life, struggles and death. A working  class black man raised on a council estate in Clapham to Ghanaian immigrant parents, unable to speak until 11 and illiterate until 18, Jason Atta Kwei Arday was said to have overcome autism and global developmental delay to become, at 37, the youngest black professor in Cambridge’s history. His remarkable journey, scholarship and leadership should  have  beeen celebrated, not overshadowed by campaigns built on allegations that have been comprehensively rejected. 
Professor Arday contributed to public life for many years, building a distinguished record of charitable and community service. His death after weeks of racist and ableist public scrutiny and shaming is a tragedy. What we witnessed over the past couple of weeks has been part of years of his career, intellect and position being questioned and undermined in a way no other academic’s has. 
It was clear that some believed that Jason Arday did not deserve to be a Cambridge Professor due to being Black and disabled. He was expected to justify his position in the court of public opinion in a way white, neurotypical academics are simply not. 
Other prominent Black academics, such as Dr Kehinde Andrews, have described what Professor Arday experienced as a “public lynching” and “feeding frenzy”. An independent count identified 249, yes you read that correctly, 249 national press articles about Jason in just 22 days, 188 published after his resignation. 
We must be honest about race. Jason faced this extraordinary level of attention because he was not simply a professor. He was a Black professor at Cambridge, celebrated as its youngest ever, who had become a highly visible symbol of diversity and social mobility. His appointment was turned into a culture-war story. There have been a number of cases of plagiarism of white professors with very little media coverage and/or public outrage. 
The University of Cambridge itself must confront its own failure. If it had concerns about Jason’s qualifications or academic record, why were they not identified before his appointment? The university celebrated his story when it reflected well on Cambridge. When the story became difficult, where was the same institutional commitment to his welfare? 
The wider context matters. Of approximately 23,900 UK professors whose ethnicity was known in 2024–25, only around 270 were Black, just 1.13%. Jason was one of them and one of the most high profile and also one of the most inspiring for a generation of people. 
Being Black did not place him above scrutiny. But it made him more visible, more symbolic and, I believe, more vulnerable to a scale and intensity of public attack that a white professor would have been unlikely to face.
Entering Cambridge was the only crime committed by Professor Jason Arday. He was guilty of nothing other than being a Black man in a system that too often asks Black people to prove their worth.
Professor Jason Arday was not alone; another female Muslim academic, working as an Assistant Research Professor, is also being hounded by the racist media and its right‑wing typewriters of power and British establishment. 
Jason Arday was targeted in a coordinated campaign instigated by Nathan Cofnas, a racist who promotes eugenics whipping up a catalogue of systemic misinformation across the British press. 
It is not surprising that Professor Arday’s death is a celebration for right-wing forces, but the silence of the so-called progressive forces hurts. The real tribute to Professor Jason Arday is to fight racism and all other forms of discrimination within UK universities and in the wider society. 
A vigil for Professor Jason Arday was held in Trafalgar Square on Monday attended  by thousands of  people  amid  growing  anger over the treatment he faced before his death.There will be many Black people who are upset and angry at the moment. Such a campaign against a public Black figure, which sadly is not the first, may cause people to question whether roles in public life are for them, and put their mental health at risk. If this dissuades Black people from taking part in public life or academia, we will be denied their talents, skills and expertise.  
His death has now sparked a debate over racism and the intense scrutiny he faced. Arday's family have criticised a “campaign of harassment” against him. Why wasn’t Jason Arday allowed simply to be human? The treatment of the former Cambridge professor exposes the burden placed on Black people who are celebrated when they succeed but are rarely afforded humanity, grace and proportionality when things go wrong.
Racism is deeply entrenched in our society and causes trauma and harm to people, families and communities. This is a painful reminder of why rooting out racism from our institutions and services is urgent and essential, and of the importance of widening access to trauma-informed support for people from racialised communities.
Almost 100,000 people have now signed a petition drawn up by the Good Law project calling for an immediate public inquiry. Claiming  his death was the direct result of the sustained press harrassment which Mr Arday was subjected to - and said racism lay at the heart of the story.You  can  sign  it here  https://goodlawproject.org/petition/jason-arday-letter/
It is imperative that we confront racism head-on as a driving force in the circumstances leading to this tragedy. Moreover, we must recognise the role played by parts of the British media, which continue to perpetuate the systemic racism that led to the disproportionate scrutiny and hostility faced by Jason in the final weeks of his life. 
Rest in peace and power, Professor Jason Arday. For as long as it takes, we must continue to fight racism and all  forms of discrimination until it is eradicated. 
Help us support the family of Professor Jason Arday with funeral and associated costs at this incredibly difficult time. https://www.gofundme.com/f/in-memory-of-dr-jason-atta-kwei-arday

Sunday, 16 August 2026

Gaza Cola


Delighted to pop  into  my  local  Oxfam   last  week and see Gaza Cola on the shelves. Gaza Cola is an ethical, Palestinian-owned soft drink sold in select UK Oxfam charity shops. Created in London as a "guilt-free" independent choice symbolizing resistance, unity, and conscious consumerism by filmmaker and activist Osama Qashoo, 100% of the profits from the drink go toward humanitarian aid and community projects in Gaza, such rebuilding Al-Karama Hospital, which was bombed and leveled in northern Gaza. 
Qashoo first had the idea for Gaza Cola in November 2023. The red can features the Palestinian flag, “Gaza Cola” written in Arabic calligraphy, and a pattern riffing on the Palestinian keffiyeh, the scarf often worn as a symbol of resistance.
Produced by Palestine House, a cultural organisation and non profit community interest company in London. Each can of Gaza Cola  not  only represents the values of justice and freedom, it offers an apartheid-free, genocide-free and guilt-free choice.
You’re not only getting a refreshing sip but also helping provide vital medical support to people in Gaza while standing in solidarity with the people of Palestine.
In a land under siege, where hospitals, schools, and factories are systematically destroyed, even a soft drink becomes an act of resistance. Gaza Cola is a Palestinian-led project, created to show that self-determination also means rebuilding economic and social dignity—starting with what we choose to consume every day.  
Gaza Cola is also a response to top-down humanitarian aid: not charity, but real solidarity, fair trade, and grassroots participation. Choosing it means supporting a different vision for Palestine’s future: not just survival, but a life of dignity.
Quench your thirst for justice. Keep  boycotting Coca-Cola and its brands Schweppes, Sprite, Fanta, Innocent, Appletiser, Smart Water and Costa Coffee. 
Remember Coca-Cola franchisee in Israel operates a regional distribution centre in an illegal Israeli settlement. It’s therefore helping to entrench Israel’s military occupation and colonisation of Palestinian land.  Don’t buy Coca Cola. Consumers and businesses  should buy an apartheid-free alternative, such as Gaza Cola.https://gazacolaglobal.com/