The connection between war and fossil fuels was a key theme of the rally, from the demand to sever ties with both Thales and Santos, to their joint role in the destruction of the planet and people.
I always sought out what it is that ties Bangladeshis together. In my few sheltered years of living, I’ve decided it was the war.
El-ghorba translates to ‘estrangement’ in English, but to adopt this modern definition would be to overlook the word’s nuanced background: nostalgia that is intermingled with trauma and hopeless optimism.
For no reason at all, she thought about her youth. She remembered when couples slow-danced at the local hall and when it was so cold you could barely feel your feet and when parents took their children for ice cream near the water. For no reason at all, she thought about great big cargo ships and waves and tears.
Peace. It is (or was) everywhere. But what does it mean? And do we still actually want it?
The words ‘zan, zendegi, azadi’, when chanted after one another, reverberate through Iran and land like daggers at the feet of those who restrict our freedoms. But if Mahsa Amini gave her life for this fight, what have we done to leave our mark?
What makes two documentary artists leave Sydney for the frontlines of war time and time again, and how do they make art out of destruction?
We have a responsibility to stare conflict in the face. To ruthlessly critique the injustices that feed into and result from war, to resist complacency.
The continued colonial occupation of Western Sahara is rife with state-sanctioned human rights abuses, brutality, and ethnic cleansing. Still, within the state, resistance thrives.
With air raids on the horizon, USyd dug its way to safety.