Now what do Britney Spears, Stujo The Musical!, Stanmore Station, supermarkets, unions, and bail laws all have in common? Neoliberalism! This edition.
We ask questions, in the hopes of achieving answers or finding new questions to ask. Is truth a lost cause? Can the power of the individual or the collective persist? Are so-called utopias, utopias? Do independent bookstores preserve the ‘Australian’ literary scene? What does it mean to become (in)dependent on others?
I admit that the first thought that comes to mind when you hear the word “independence”, is related to national independence days. Yet I sought to interrogate the usage of the world, as time and time again, I have been told that being independent is a useful skill. Yet I still cannot help but feel as if it has a corrupted quality to it. If you are independent, especially from a young age, it is because you were forced to be. And how do you know when to stop being independent, and learn to rely on others? I don’t know, I’m still learning that.
While I never had a particular ambition to be an Honi Soit editor, I did take pride in writing and delivering my articles to my editors Sam Randle and Andy Park. It was only until a perfectly worded Facebook message courtesy of Ariana Haghighi that I decided to become an editor — in reality, you are editor, admin, designer, and every other newspaper role all rolled into one.
Our beautiful cover is adorned by the words “free and independent” in Arabic. I remember hearing these words when watching aArabic-dubbed Turkish series Hatırla Sevgili, (2006-8), a romantic drama set against the background of Turkish political turmoil from the late 1950s onwards. My mum is going to laugh at me (or pat me on the back) for referencing this show, but I genuinely think this was my earliest encounter with anti-imperialist sentiment, regardless of my grasp of politics as a child. Don’t ask me if it still holds up because that would demand a rewatch.
Born from the ink of Palestinian cartoonist Naji al-Ali in 1969, is Handala, a faceless figure, back turned and hands tied, as consolidated in 1973. By depicting a 10-year-old Palestinian child who doesn’t grow up, al-Ali uses art to represent how the world — including the Arab world — has turned its back to Palestinian dispossession and deprivation of basic human rights. Handala was named after the handal local plant for its deep roots, bitter fruit, and its growth when cut down. Handala has continued to exist long after al-Ali’s death, with various artists drawing their own visions of Handala, more recently by artists in Japan and Italy, while Honi invited artists to do the same.
Free Palestine, until it is backwards.
