Savage Minds

Hala Shoman, a Palestinian PhD researcher in Sociology at Newcastle University, discusses her life in Gaza before 7 October 2023, the conditions under which Gazans have been living since, and the physical and political realities on the ground for Palestinians today. Shoman elaborates how Israel’s violence since 2023 has left Palestinian society shattered, since the aggressions are so vast and profound that, unlike previous decades of aggressions that did not wipe out entire neighbourhoods and communities, the current genocide has left few able-bodied bodies alive who are can help their communities after each attack. Observing the harsh reality for Gazans today under the daily threat of murder, Shoman appraises how not only does every Palestinian personally know hundreds of people murdered over the past two years, but Israel’s aggressions and control over every aspect of Palestinian life—their access to food, water and vaccines—have become so intensified that Palestinian infants are dying from the lack of drinking water necessary for baby formula. Confirming the direct links between Israel’s violence and the increase in domestic violence in Gaza, Shoman recounts how the structural violence of colonialism and genocide has been reproduced: from the Israeli theatre of occupation and murder to the intimate space of family life within Palestinian communities. Expounding upon Israel’s pathological desire to control Palestine, Shoman remarks that the very war criminals directing this genocide are the same individuals who are asked to lead Palestine in what is this latest farce of a “peace plan.” Shoman also elaborates her academic research that explores decolonial feminist frameworks and the concept of reprocide while also distinguishing between adapting to the horrors of this genocide and surviving it.

Rebecca Ruth Gould, Distinguished Professor of Comparative Poetics and Global Politics, School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) and author of Erasing Palestine: Free Speech and Palestinian Freedom (Verso, 2020), discusses the political reframing of “antisemitism” by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) which tailored a new definition designed specifically to silence criticism of both Zionism and the state of Israel. Recalling how she was caught within the radar of the IHRA’s definition of antisemitism in 2017 while an academic at the University of Bristol for a short article she had written years earlier, Gould analyses how the IHRA definition has very clear implications far beyond Israel and Palestine, even to the extent that it exists as a quasi-law that is treated as law while never having gone through any kind of democratic parliamentary vetting process. Moreover, Gould observes how the IHRA definition of antisemitism basically set out to define what we can and cannot say about Israel while also serving to foreshadow how free speech on Palestine would be persecuted for the following decade. Considering the language of mass starvation and famine within the media, Gould confirms how the famine of the Holodomor, in a 1933 New York Times piece, was narrated in an eerily similar way to how the famine in Gaza is currently represented. Articulating how “Never again” has never really been true, given the numerous genocides since the Holocaust, Gould describes how older generations have internalised the state-based nationalist “Holocaust memories” which have blinded them from seeing, much less understanding, that Israel is currently carrying out a genocide of Palestinians.

Dario Guarascio, Associate Professor of Economic Policy at the Department of Economics and Law at the Sapienza University of Rome, discusses two articles he co-authored with Andrea Coveri and Claudio Cozza, “Big Tech and the US Digital-Military-Industrial Complex” and “Monopoly Capital in the time of digital platforms: A radical approach to the Amazon case.” Coveri examines the power of digital platforms whose systemic size rivals that of nation-states, positioning them as counterparts to national authorities. Revisiting social sciences history, especially economic and imperialism theories, Guarascio highlights John Hobson’s contributions that illustrate the reliance of large capital and financial corporations on new markets as national markets become saturated. He details how the intertwining needs of states and monopolies drive a strategic internationalisation essential for competitiveness, a concept reflected in Vladimir Lenin’s work influenced by Hobson, which connects international competition with states’ imperialistic strategies aimed at expanding trade routes and eliminating competitors. Guarascio posits that amidst economic strains, military means have historically facilitated market penetration, forcing foreign governments to capitulate to external capital while obstructing competitors. He draws parallels between the intense competition for market dominance leading to the world wars and present dynamics characterised by monopoly capitalism and the dominance of multinational corporations that now dictate economic policies, thus transforming states into instruments of corporate interests. Furthermore, Guarascio argues that contemporary corporate imperialism promotes capital internationalisation and fosters economic dependencies, while militarisation becomes integral to these economic narratives. This relationship outlines a modern imperialism defined by collusion among the state, military, and multinational corporations, particularly between the US and China, alongside Big Tech’s growing influence and strategic military affiliations.

Penny Arcade—poet, actress, essayist, spoken word, video and theatre maker—discusses her trajectory from an immigrant family, originally from Basilicata, Italy, to her upbringing in a working-class Connecticut town to her entry into the art world of New York’s East Village. Looking back on her life as a homeless teen in the Village, her discovery by Jamie Andrews who introduced her to John Vaccaro’s Playhouse of The Ridiculous, becoming a Warhol Factory Superstar, and her departure to Amsterdam, Arcade narrates the story of how she set off for Formentera, in Spain’s Balearic Islands, where she started a school for children there, some of whom were children of drug smugglers. Recounting her return to New York City in 1981 and her split from Vaccaro, which marked the beginning of her independent work, Arcade recollects the state of the various art scenes in New York City during the Reagan era, the loss of friends to AIDS, and the censorship of the era. She vituperates the class divisions within the art world and the Manhattan Downtown art scene into which she never fit neatly, while underscoring her desire to “create theatre for people who had no theatre,” a fact which made her extremely unpopular within academia and among arts administrators because her work challenges these very elite systems. Pondering the values she espouses in her art and the fact that her audience has always been unique in maintaining a shared investment in her performances, Arcade considers how the catharsis in reaction to her art takes place well beyond the theatre hall. As an outsider to the art scene, noting how she hasn’t received institutional support and has operated without funding, legacy media coverage, or any form of academic sponsorship, Arcade criticises the state of art funding from even before the 1980s, when the Moral Majority took aim at the art world and at the NEA (National Endowment for the Arts) funding structures. Calling out the academic art world as a “pyramid scheme,” Arcade observes how the academic-produced genre of “emerging arts” has become a way for the elite class to ensure that their children would have a guaranteed “entry level position” post-graduation in the arts akin to the professional tracks for finance and law, proclaiming: “Art is not a profession—it’s a vocation.” She also delves into the problems of identity politics that have permeated into arts funding and the art world and culture at large, remarking how these institutions recycle not only the same personas and narratives, ultimately limiting the “professionalised” scope of art. Responding to the recent “queering” of Marsha P Johnson, Arcade argues that Johnson was not transgender but was a drag queen, contending that the only reason why Johnson was recategorised as “trans” is because “Marsha is dead and black.”

Catherine Liu, Professor of Film and Media Studies at UC Irvine, discusses her forthcoming book, Traumatized: The New Politics of Suffering (Verso, 2026), wherein she elucidates the emergence of trauma culture, tracing it back to psychoanalysis and the reification of mental health in post-war America. Analysing the fetishisation and recognition of feelings, Liu historicises the explosion of psychoanalysis in the United States in the 1950s and the rise of New Left in the 1960s, which advanced “the personal is political,” an idea quickly adopted by second-wave feminists. Observing how the discourse of trauma has permeated all areas of society, such that feelings have been prioritised over knowledge and “centering feelings” has replaced scientific inquiry, Liu critiques how the professional managerial class thrives on rebranding, promoting credentials, and creating new identities, all in order to advance the collapse of the separation between work and leisure. Noting how workers have fought for years to maintain a separation of work from leisure time, Liu muses on the invasive, destructive force of the Silicon Valley New Left and professional middle-class feminists who have driven the insistence of a non-differentiated space where “we are always at work”, therefore our private lives are expected to be “on display through our performance virtue.” She examines the dynamics of how anti-normativity and transgression function within the writings of Michel Foucault, since they invariably strengthen normativity. Nonetheless, Liu vituperates the bastardisation of these valences under the scope of identity politics, which forces the merging of one’s personal life, politics, and intellectual practices.

Alex de Waal, executive director of the World Peace Foundation and Research Professor at the Fletcher School, Tufts University, historicises the way “famine” in the postcolonial era was an extremely emotional word for which, fifty years ago, there were no appropriate structures nor any objective scientific metric for understanding where or when famine was occurring. By 1984-1985, however, the neoliberal governments of Thatcher and Reagan became deeply embarrassed by the famine in Ethiopia, de Waal narrates. From this embarrassment, an industry of refining the metrics of understanding what counted as famine, and what did not, was born, and from this, the IPC, or Integrated Food Security Phase Classification, was developed as the standardised UN system used to classify the severity of food insecurity and malnutrition in a specific area. De Waal discusses how the international aid system has been shackled into into viewing famine in a very apolitical way, refusing to exam the structural causes driving famine largely because international NGOs steered away from criticising governments in order to maintain cooperation for their relief work and that Western publics give assistance to victims of natural disasters as part of the “white saviour” theatre which depends upon eliding the political causes. Declaiming the importance of photography in chronicling the history of famine—from the Warsaw Ghetto, to the famine in Ethiopia (1983-1985), and Gaza—de Waal observes the dual role of these photos: first, that the perpetrator of famine was not only absent from the frame, but was often the person taking the photo; and second, that because the perpetrator was rarely within the frame, the subjects of these photos were often blamed as the true perpetrators of famine, such that Jews attempting to preserve a “veneer of normality” in the Warsaw Ghetto or Palestinians in Gaza who are more portly, were ultimatley inculpated as the cause of the famine. Considering the merits of Famine Early Warning Systems Network (FEWSNET), he notes that it lacks the key element of examining the policies and intention of those doing the starvation. De Waal underscores that “to starve” does not just refer to the experience of people starving, but it also means the act of starving people, as he goes on to describe how the East India Company, through onerous taxation from 1769 to 1770, created a famine in Bihar and Bengal, ultimately killing one-third of the population.

Celine-Marie Pascale, professor emerita of sociology at American University, discusses her book Living on the Edge (2021), wherein she details her research into the struggling communities across the United States—from Appalachia to the Standing Rock and Wind River reservations to Oakland, California—who face the hardships of stagnant wages and rising costs of living. Analysing the experiences of people emanating from communities that deal with systemic, entrenched levels of poverty, Pascale uncovers the “social organisation of power relations that keep people submerged in poverty, that actually make poverty profitable,” calls out the “American dream” as much more of a myth than a reality, similar to the adjacent myth of “class mobility.” Considering how “capitalism depends upon a large, poorly paid workforce,” Pascale observes that in order to maintain the workforce without rebellion, these myths are turned against the workers and the poor, essentially telling workers that if they are struggling to put food on the table or take care of their families, that the fault lies with the worker and not with the system, not with capitalism. Historicising the lack of class consciousness in the United States, she notes how workers are cannibalised by capitalism while advanced capitalism, Pascale contends, “cannibalises itself.” Pascale critiques the federal measure of poverty, narrating how such standardisation for the cost of living is “untethered from reality” since it makes no distinction for food or rent costs in areas where food is imported (eg, Alaska and Hawaii) or where rent is extremely high (eg, San Francisco and New York). Covering her work on the violence against Native American women, Pascale assesses the high rates of violence and sex trafficking networks which fuel “man camps”—temporary housing facilities for a large workforce, typically in isolated areas where men are recruited to work on resource extraction or construction projects (eg, oil, gas or mining)—that have a documented correlation with increased rates of sexual assault, violence, and sex trafficking.

Heather Brunskell-Evans, philosopher of politics, author, and academic, speaks about her experience of having protested against the Israeli genocide of Palestinians in Gaza, whereby she held a placard upon which she wrote “I oppose genocide” and “I support Palestine Action.” After holding up her sign, within seconds, Brunskell-Evans was arrested under the Terrorism Act 2000 and was swiftly detained. Describing being held in solitary confinement overnight and detailing her treatment in detention, to include being enclosed in a caged area, Brunskell-Evans observes the juxtaposition of two types of police partisanship where, the Pride fluffy arm bands that adorned some of these officers symbolise the wider police support of gender ideology and its concommitant endangerment to women’s safety, on the one hand, and on the other, the police force’s disregard for civil liberties and the freedom of expression to protest a genocide. Criticising the gender-critical feminist movement which has remained tighly affixed to Zionism and Islamophobia, Bruskell-Evans vituperates the “intellectual paucity” and “lack of ethics” at the heart of western feminism that denies the many incidents of sexual violence recorded by international and national NGOs, documenting decades of rape and sexual assault perpetrated by the Israeli forces against Palestinian men and women.

David Abdulah, a Trinidad and Tobago trade unionist, economist and politician and the current leader of the Movement for Social Justice, speaks about the vigil for peace in Woodford Square, Port of Spain, which is one of many popular efforts by the citizens of his country to ask that the United States government stop its strikes on vessels from the region. Analysing how the Prime Minister of Trinidad and Tobago, Kamla Persad-Bissessar, has been supportive of the US actions over the past two months, where vessels have been destroyed and people killed (the death toll from these campaigns now rests at 70), Abdulah notes how the people of his country oppose military deployment, war, and regime change. Recalling the history of US interventionism in Latin America and the Caribbean, Abdulah underscores how this operation by the United States is simply a refashioned WMD, where, instead of alleged weapons of mass destruction, the US government has simply utilised the “drug war” narrative, while contending that the boats it has destroyed have allegedly been the vessels of drug trafficking operations. Noting how the US has absolutely no right to lecture anyone on the “drug trade,” Abdulah recalls how, during the Reagan administration in the 1980s, the US government authorised the transport and sale of cocaine from Latin America to support and finance its efforts to destabilise governments in El Salvador and Nicaragua. Even if these boats were those of drug traffickers, Abdulah insists upon the rejection of the Monroe Doctrine while underscoring the moral principles of peace, while also observing that due process is being completely obliterated and that the US is engaging in extrajudicial killings with zero regard for the law.

Omer Bartov, an Israeli-American scholar and Dean’s Professor of Holocaust and Genocide Studies at Brown University, reviews the definition of genocide as established within the Genocide Convention of 1948 as he analyses the trajectory of events in Gaza from 7 October 2023 to the Spring 2024 when the IDF moved into Rafah and proceeded systematically destroy Gaza with the goal of making it unhinhabitable for its population. Noting that the Knesset used 7 October as an opportunity to ethnically cleanse the Gaza Strip, he observes that Israel’s actions proved unsuccessful since there was no place to push the Palestinians. This is the moment, Bartov observes, when the situation devolved into genocide, resembling many other genocides throughout the 20th century, which began as ethnic cleansing but ended up as the mass killing of populations. Declaring that by July 2025, a consensus had been formed among the majority of genocide scholars and experts in international law, he expresses astonishment at the fact that legacy media have still not begun to employ the term “genocide” to describe what is now an agreed fact by international experts. Historicising how ethnic cleansing often turns into genocide, Bartov offers examples from the Germans’ ethnic cleansing turned genocide of the Herero in what is present-day Namibia, the Armenian genocide by Türkiye, where vast numbers of Armenians were pushed into the Syrian desert and perished, to the coextensive labour and extermination camps of the Nazis during World War II. Addressing the reality that many Israelis and Jews, when they hear the word “genocide,” they think of the Holocaust, Bartov criticises this mentality since the Holocaust has become a central theme within Israeli national identity since the 1980s. He contends that Israelis view the Holocaust as “not only something that happened in the past, it is something that can happen any moment. That we are always under existential threat…And that threat is represented by the Palestinians.” Bartov explains that this genocide is, in part, a reaction to fear within the core of Israeli identity that has resulted in Israel’s mass murder of Palestinians, largely because Israelis view Palestinians as their existential threat.