Everything is Political

The Ones Who Stay I met Fatima* during my first week on the job. I had just been hired as a legal executive for an immigration solicitor in Ireland. It had been explained to me that one of my primary responsibilities would be to meet new clients, gather details about their stories, backgrounds, legal cases, and claims, and begin building cases grounded in their lived realities. Fatima was my first meeting of this nature.

an Indigenous perspective on 250 years, with Rebecca Nagle REBECCA NAGLE: My name is Rebecca Nagle. I’m a citizen of Cherokee Nation, and I live in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. I’m the writer and host of a new podcast called First America. The podcast talks about the true origin of the United States and how that ties into our current political moment.

When Bad Faith Movement Leaders Declare War on the Working Class “There is also the danger in our culture that because a person is called upon to give public statements and is acclaimed by the establishment, such a person gets to the point of believing that he is the movement.” In ten years of working with roughly over one hundred movement organizations, I have only ever fired two long-term clients. This story is about the second. It’s about our movements, and it’s also about class.

The Balloons Were Not Balloons On Chemical Weapons, Contaminated Lands, and Bodies That Remember War July 2006, in a school cafeteria. I was a film student in Los Angeles, writing a time travel script about a dystopian Beirut in 2050, a city fractured into contaminated zones, divided by invisible borders. I thought I was inventing a future, holding on to the only two things I trusted—my body and my camera. A friend approached me, and in a measured tone, asked if I had seen the news. I hadn’t.

Early February heralded the 2nd edition of Le Marche Bleue, an ecological, citizen, and artistic initiative held in Mauritania’s Banc d’Arguin National Park. This year, it featured a sharpened focus on eco-anxiety and the future of Mauritanian youth.

Dori Tunstall in conversation with Jay Pitter about her new book, Black Public Joy Figure 1 Book cover for Black Public Joy, written by Jay Pitter and published by McClelland and Stewart (2026). Image provided by McClelland and Stewart. Given the daily white supremacist attacks against Black folks (and everyone else) Black Public Joy: No Permit or Permission Required is a balm for the exhausted soul.

When I was four, we moved to a house on the outskirts of Jalgaon, a small city in North Maharashtra. My grandfather wanted a home away from the noise of the colony where we used to live. To me, the new house felt empty. I had no friends in the neighbouring houses, and the language spoken around us was unfamiliar. In our previous home, my best friend lived next door, and we would spend our evenings together in the narrow lane in front of our house.

Indigenous Art and Life on the Eastern Edge of Long Island On Oct. 29, at the East End of Long Island, where on one side of Shinnecock Bay trees rise like mountains and on the other, empty multimillion-dollar beach houses stretch along the shore, a bald eagle flies through the gray sky, moving as it has for centuries. Shane Weeks, also known by his traditional name Bizhiki Nibauit, a member of the Shinnecock Indian Nation, watches it from the sandy shore.

As new “peace plans” for Palestine are drafted far from Palestinian life, Palestinians find themselves once again spoken for - another reminder of how communication is weaponized to sustain Zionist colonialism. Colonialism doesn’t just seize land; it seizes the story and its agents.

Hind Khoudary: Marhaba! (Hello) Let me show you where I am right now: I’m on a rooftop because it’s very hot and we don’t have any electricity, so this is the only way we can get some fresh air. I’m displaced in Deir al Balah right now and I have been displaced since November. EIP: You said that it’s 8pm right now and that you’re on a rooftop; can you describe where you are and what it looks like and what it feels like and what you smell and take us to Gaza for a second?