Uprising Book Quotes

Margo, they're afraid of us. They're afraid of everything.' And then I kept on talking without really thinking, until it turned into a chant: They're afraid of change, and we must change. They're afraid of the young, and we are the young. They're afraid of music, and music is our life. They're afraid of books, and knowledge, and ideas. They're most afraid of our magic.

There's no point in reading a book if you let it pass before your eyes and then forget about it ten minutes later. Reading a book is an intellectual exercise, which stimulates thought, questions, imagination.

Reading a book is an intellectual exercise, which stimulates thought, questions,

The Sweat and the Furrow was Silas Weekley being earthly and spade-conscious all over seven hundred pages. The situation, to judge from the first paragraph, had not materially changed since Silas's last book: mother lying-in with her eleventh upstairs, father laid-out after his ninth downstairs, eldest son lying to the Government in the cow-shed, eldest daughter lying with her lover in the the hayloft, everyone else lying low in the barn. The rain dripped from the thatch, and the manure steamed in the midden. Silas never omitted the manure. It was not Silas's fault that its steam provided the only uprising element in the picture. If Silas could have discovered a brand of steam that steamed downwards, Silas would have introduced it.

greatest theologian of the twentieth century, Karl Barth, said that ‘to clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world’. And

Some call it brash. Others call it independent. Pick your interpretation.

No, guns were not meant for overthrowing a tyrannical government. Guns were for protecting the tyrannical government against Native Americans and slave uprisings.

It was convenient to call them snipers, because if they weren’t snipers, then what were they? The governor didn’t say it; the newspapers didn’t say it; the history books still do not say it, but I, who watched the entire thing on my bike, saw it clearly: in Detroit, in July of 1967, what happened was nothing less than a guerrilla uprising. The Second American Revolution.

She was a puppet, and the men in her life held the strings. Elyse swore to give everything into being a mage so she could cut those strings. No husband, father, friend, or king would decide for her again.

The changes I describe in this book are not about the triumph of women over men, Western values over Eastern, or one religion over another. They're aimed at solving the world's most intractable problems - poverty, conflict, and violence.

In his book Politics, which is the foundation of the study of political systems, and very interesting, Aristotle talked mainly about Athens. But he studied various political systems - oligarchy, monarchy - and didn't like any of the particularly. He said democracy is probably the best system, but it has problems, and he was concerned with the problems. One problem that he was concerned with is quite striking because it runs right up to the present. He pointed out that in a democracy, if the people - people didn't mean people, it meant freemen, not slaves, not women - had the right to vote, the poor would be the majority, and they would use their voting power to take away property from the rich, which wouldn't be fair, so we have to prevent this. James Madison made the same pint, but his model was England. He said if freemen had democracy, then the poor farmers would insist on taking property from the rich. They would carry out what we these days call land reform. and that's unacceptable. Aristotle and Madison faced the same problem but made the opposite decisions. Aristotle concluded that we should reduce ineqality so the poor wouldn't take property from the rich. And he actually propsed a visin for a city that would put in pace what we today call welfare-state programs, common meals, other support systems. That would reduce inequality, and with it the problem of the poor taking property from the rich. Madison's decision was the opposite. We should reduce democracy so the poor won't be able to get together to do this. If you look at the design of the U.S. constitutional system, it followed Madison's approach. The Madisonian system placed power in the hands of the Senate. The executive in those days was more or less an administrator, not like today. The Senate consisted of "the wealth of the nation," those who had sympathy for property owners and their rights. That's where power should be. The Senate, remember, wasn't elected. It was picked by legislatures, who were themselves very much subject to control by the rich and the powerful. The House, which was closer to the population, had much less power. And there were all sorts of devices to keep people from participation too much - voting restrictions and property restrictions. The idea was to prevent the threat of democracy. This goal continues right to the present. It has taken different forms, but the aim remains the same.

Of course Peeta’s right. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands,” says Johanna flatly. “Don’t want that, do they?” She throws back her head and shouts, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!” My mouth drops open in shock. No one, ever, says anything like this in the Games. Absolutely, they’ve cut away from Johanna, are editing her out. But I have heard her and can never think about her again in the same way. She’ll never win any awards for kindness, but she certainly is gutsy. Or crazy. She picks up some shells and heads toward the jungle. “I’m getting water,” she says. I can’t help catching her hand as she passes me. “Don’t go in there. The birds —” I remember the birds must be gone, but I still don’t want anyone in there. Not even her. “They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love,” Johanna says, and frees her hand with an impatient shake. When she brings me back a shell of water, I take it with a silent nod of thanks, knowing how much she would despise the pity in my voice.

[Bluestone's] dark eyes, which had been focused on the blue sky outside the cellblock window, shifted to Wicklow. "A lot of white folks in these parts, their ancestors were killed in what your history books call the Great Sioux Uprising. In schools, they teach that the Dakota were savages, that we rose up against our neighbors and slaughtered them." "The Sioux--Dakota--here probably have ancestors killed by whites." "But the Dakota didn't win that war. In the end, a war is always about who wins. My people had no chance. It doesn't matter that they had every reason to be angry and desperate. They'd been lied to, cheated, starved, their land and everything on it stolen. So they fought. And they lost. But the history has been written by the whites. In Black Earth County, it's the whites who believe they were set on unfairly, cruelly, and have the right to carry all that hatred in their hearts.

It should be said that all these years, in all the Special Camps, orthodox Soviet citizens, without even consulting each other, unanimously condemned the massacre of the stoolies, or any attempt by prisoners to fight for their rights. We need not put this down to sordid motives (though quite a few of the orthodox were compromised by their work for the godfather) since we can fully explain it by their theoretical views. They accepted all forms of repression and extermination, even wholesale, provided they came from above—as a manifestation of the dictatorship of the proletariat. Even impulsive and uncoordinated actions of the same kind but from below were regarded as banditry, and what is more, in its "Banderist" form (among the loyalists you would never get one to admit the right of the Ukraine to secede, because to do so was bourgeois nationalism). The refusal of the katorzhane to be slave laborers, their indignation about window bars and shootings, depressed and frightened the docile camp Communists.

Bettelheim had another domain of fraudulent, self-aggrandizing blaming that evokes particular revulsion in me, in that he was a classic anti-Semitic Semite, blaming his fellow Jews for the Holocaust. Addressing a group of Jewish students, he asked, “Anti-Semitism, whose fault is it?” and then shouted, “Yours! . . . Because you don’t assimilate, it is your fault.” He was one of the architects of the sick accusation that Jews were complicit in their genocide by being passive “sheep being led to the ovens” (ever hear of, say, the Warsaw Uprising, “Dr.” Brutalheim?). He invented a history for himself as having been sent to the camps because of his heroic underground resistance actions, whereas he was actually led away as meekly or otherwise as those he charged. I have to try to go through the same thinking process that this whole book is about to arrive at any feelings about Bettelheim other than that he was a sick, sadistic fuck. (The quote comes from R. Pollack, The Creation of Dr. B: A Biography of Bruno Bettelheim , London, UK: Touchstone [1998], page 228.)

It only looked depressing compared to scenes from the children’s books—the only books to survive the uprising. Most people doubted those colors in the books, just as they doubted purple elephants and pink birds ever existed, but Holston felt that they were truer than the scene before him. He, like some others, felt something primal and deep when he looked at those worn pages splashed green and blue. Even so, when compared to the stifling silo, that muddy gray view outside looked like some kind of salvation, just the sort of open air men were born to breathe. “Always seems a little clearer in here,” Jahns said. “The view, I mean.” Holston remained silent. He watched a curling piece of cloud break off and move in a new direction, blacks and grays swirling together. “You get your pick for dinner,” the mayor said. “It’s tradition—” “You don’t need to tell me how this works,” Holston said, cutting Jahns off. “It’s only been three years since I served Allison her last meal right here.” He reached to spin the copper ring on his finger out of habit, forgetting he had left it on his dresser hours ago.

Those of us who hope to be their allies should not be surprised, if and when this day comes, that when those who have been locked up and locked out finally have the chance to speak and truly be heard, what we hear is rage. The rage may frighten us; it may remind us of riots, uprisings, and buildings aflame. We may be tempted to control it, or douse it with buckets of doubt, dismay, and disbelief. But we should do no such thing. Instead, when a young man who was born in the ghetto and who knows little of life beyond the walls of his prison cell and the invisible cage that has become his life, turns to us in bewilderment and rage, we should do nothing more than look him in the eye and tell him the truth. We should tell him the same truth the great African American writer James Baldwin told his nephew in a letter published in 1962, in one of the most extraordinary books ever written, The Fire Next Time. With great passion and searing conviction, Baldwin had this to say to his young nephew: This is the crime of which I accuse my country and my countrymen, and for which neither I nor time nor history will ever forgive them, that they have destroyed and are destroying hundreds of thousands of lives and do not know it and do not want to know it …. It is their innocence which constitutes the crime …. This innocent country set you down in a ghetto in which, in fact, it intended that you should perish. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being. You were not expected to aspire to excellence: you were expected to make peace with mediocrity …. You have, and many of us have, defeated this intention; and, by a terrible law, a terrible paradox, those innocents who believed that your imprisonment made them safe are losing their grasp on reality. But these men are your brothers—your lost, younger brothers. And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it. For this is your home, my friend, do not be driven from it; great men have done great things here, and will again, and we can make America what it must become. It will be hard, but you come from sturdy, peasant stock, men who picked cotton and dammed rivers and built railroads, and, in the teeth of the most terrifying odds, achieved an unassailable and monumental dignity. You come from a long line of great poets since Homer. One of them said, The very time I thought I was lost, My dungeon shook and my chains fell off …. We cannot be free until they are free. God bless you, and Godspeed.67

At first of course everybody had been quiet, fearful. The funeral procession snaked its way through the drab, slushy little city in dead silence. The only sound was the slap-slap-slap of thousands of sockless shoes on the silver-wet road that led to the Mazar-e-Shohadda. Young men carried seventeen coffins on their shoulders. Seventeen plus one, that is, for the re-murdered Usman Abdullah, who obviously could not be entered twice in the books. So, seventeen-plus-one tin coffins wove through the streets, winking back at the winter sun. To someone looking down at the city from the ring of high mountains that surrounded it, the procession would have looked like a column of brown ants carrying seventeen-plus-one sugar crystals to their anthill to feed their queen. Perhaps to a student of history and human conflict, in relative terms that's all the little procession amounted to: a column of ants making off with some crumbs that had fallen from the high table. As wars go, this was only a small one. Nobody paid much attention. So it went on and on. So it folded and unfolded over decades, gathering people into its unhinged embrace. Its cruelties became as natural as the changing seasons, each came with its own unique range of scent and blossom, its own cycle of loss and renewal, disruption and normalcy, uprisings and elections. Of all the sugar crystals carried by the ants that winter morning, the smallest crystal of course went by the name of Miss Jebeen.

Operation Reinhard, whose ultimate goal was the elimination of Polish Jews living in the “General Government”, an area of occupied Poland under Nazi rule that was designated as a separate administrative region. To implement Operation Reinhard, three killing centers were started at the Lublin District (Sobibor and Belzec) and the Warsaw District (Treblinka II). Prisoners at these killing centers were murdered by being herded into gas chambers where carbon monoxide was pumped in. Some 1.5 million Jews were murdered in these killing centers between March 1942 and November 1943, when Sobibor and Treblinka ceased operations following prisoner uprisings. Only 300 prisoners were known to have survived these killing centers, mainly escapees who managed to get away from the camps during the uprisings.

My parents to this day are unable to comprehend anything about my profession,” Sophia sighed, “in fact, they stopped helping me with my homework the minute I hit the fifth grade. But they had wisdom that I could not find in books, and as powerful as I am... I can’t hug myself when I am at my lowest.

Hanna Krall’s book Shielding the Flame drew on the experience of Dr. Marek Edelman, who before he died in 2009 was the sole survivor of the five-person command that led the April 1943 Warsaw Ghetto Uprising.

For many years, the Democratic Party followed the populist model; that’s what many of its leaders thought democracy was all about. But beginning in the 1970s, liberalism began to change. Over the course of countless intra-party debates, the Democrats came to think of themselves not as the voice of working-class people at all but as a sort of coming together of the learned and the virtuous. They came to this understanding, ironically, at the historical moment when populism, as a generalized hostility to the establishment, was sweeping the country. From Madison Avenue to the classic rock radio station in your sad hometown, Americans were imagining themselves to be rebels against rules and tradition and authority. Even conservatives were posturing as insurgents. The only group that seemed to have trouble embracing this new mood was the Democratic Party. And so we come at last to the shabby synthesis to which this book’s many competing strands have been leading us all along: As conservatives trumpeted their uprising, liberals turned against it all. They became anti-populists.

A heroic gentleman comes to mind, discovered during the research into this book, a Sir Henry Rawlinson , responsible for recording and decoding three languages he discovered in 1835 located 1700 feet above the desert floor chiseled into the cliffs of Behistun, in modern day Iran.  The historical marker was commissioned by Darius the 1st who lived and reigned from 522-486 BCE, recounting the Persian ruler’s suppression of various rival uprisings.  In 1835, Sir Henry Rawlinson, a British army officer training the army of the Shah of Iran, began studying the inscription in earnest. As the town of Bisistun's name was anglicized as "Behistun" at this time, the monument became known as the "Behistun Inscription". Despite its inaccessibility, Rawlinson was able to scale the cliff and copy the Old Persian inscription. The Elamite was across a chasm, and the Babylonian four metres above; both were beyond easy reach and were left for later.

I did not, and could not, know when writing this book that our nation would soon awaken violently from its brief colorblind slumber. In the final chapter, I did predict that uprisings were in our future, and I wondered aloud what the fire would look like this time. What actually occurred in the years that followed was, to paraphrase James Baldwin, more terrible and more beautiful than I could have imagined. We now have white nationalist movements operating openly online and in many of our communities; they’re celebrating mass killings and recruiting thousands into their ranks. We have a president who routinely unleashes hostile tirades against black and brown people—calling Mexican migrants “murderers,” “rapists,” and “bad people,” referring to developing African nations as “shithole countries,” and smearing the majority-black city of Baltimore as a “disgusting, rat and rodent infested mess.” Millions of Americans are cheering, or at least tolerating, these racial hostilities. And yet, in the midst of all of this, we also have vibrant racial justice movements led by new generations of activists who are working courageously at the intersections of our systems of control, as well as growing movements against criminal injustice led by those who are directly impacted by mass incarceration. Many of these movements aim to redefine the meaning of justice in America. A decade ago, much of this progress seemed nearly unimaginable. When this book was first released, there was relatively little racial justice organizing, and “mass incarceration” was not a widely used term. Back then, the Congressional Black Caucus, as well as most civil rights organizations, did not include criminal justice issues among its top priorities. Little funding could be found for work challenging the enormous punishment bureaucracy

they’d want you to diffuse into the smoke but do they know they give birth to clouds who bring rain and thunder?

There are several reasons, and the way in which the terms “movement” and “organization” are understood by Alinskyites connects to some defining aspects of their model. For Ed Chambers, Alinsky’s successor as IAF director, an aversion to movements is a part of his long-term commitment to community members. As he writes in his book Roots for Radicals, “We play to win. That’s one of the distinctive features of the IAF: We don’t lead everyday, ordinary people into public failures, and we’re not building movements. Movements go in and out of existence. As good as they are, you can’t sustain them. Everyday people need incremental success over months and sometimes years.”11

The consequences of this forgotten crisis—which remains blotted out of history books in Saudi Arabia and many other Muslim lands—last to this day.

In some ways the men at Attica couldn’t believe that the head of the entire New York State Department of Correctional Services was coming to talk with them. They hoped that the recent rebellions at Auburn and in New York City jails had taught officials like Oswald a lesson—that prisoners would never stop demanding to be treated as human beings. They wanted him to see the wisdom of really listening to prisoners rather than ignoring their needs. As inspiring as it was to read the broader critiques of injustice found in George Jackson’s Soledad Brother: The Prison Letters of George Jackson, Eldridge Cleaver’s Soul on Ice, or in Mao’s Little Red Book—which Attica’s prisoners read and discussed passionately—they also prayed that having Oswald’s ear might net them needed changes now.

Under the glow of a gas street lamp, Marietta Reid stood in an empty lane, looking up at her future: a bakery.

Change inspired historians to write and bards to sing; it made for a story worth telling. Valeriya would do everything in her power to ensure her life meant something—that her legacy lived long after her ashes scattered to the winds.

Isabel added helpfully. Two doctors, I thought. Making doctor paychecks in America. Living in the suburbs of Milwaukee while their son, miles away, dreamed of the Maoist uprising. My white friends with their white faces and their white lives. Their eyes watching mine. Assigning me a place on their political grid.

The truth about the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising begins with the existence of two resistance organizations in the ghetto that did not unite despite the desperate battle they were facing. The rivalry between these two organizations – the Jewish Fighting Organization (ZOB), led by Mordechai Anielewicz, and the Jewish Military Organization (ZZW), led by Pawel Frenkel – was rooted in past ideological differences that had become completely irrelevant in the ghetto. Nevertheless, these ideological differences prevented the two organizations from uniting even after most of the Jews from the Warsaw ghetto had been sent to the Treblinka gas chambers,

the uprising of the sons of Canaan fueled by a long-standing

La Révolution urbaine first appeared in 1970, in the aftermath of the May 1968 uprising in Paris. Cities around the world from Detroit to Tokyo, Prague to Mexico City, were the scene of major revolts, connected less through any organizational affiliation than through political empathy linking highly diverse struggles, and as the 1960s culminated in worldwide challenges to capitalism, war, racism, patriarchy, imperialism, and the alienation of modern urban life, the book was inevitably received as a political testament to the possibilities for fundamental political and social change.

Because of that brutality, and because of a shared belief in the importance of a specific form of political and economic development, these government officials and slave owners sought to write this massive uprising out of the history books—to dismiss the bold actions of the slave army as irrelevant and trivial. They succeeded. And in doing so, they laid the groundwork for one of the most remarkable moments of historical amnesia in our national memory.

Perhaps the best lens into the routes to slavery is a book published by a man named Olaudah Equiano in 1789. Equiano

The Destrehan plantation is open now for tours—and weddings or parties, if you’re interested. A group of prominent white families converted the Destrehan plantation into a museum, seeking to preserve their heritage and remember their own past. The tour focuses on the lifestyles, family histories, and architectural accomplishments of the planter class. The tour is rich with descriptions of the planters’ meals, their parties, and their elaborate family dramas. The architecture is a special emphasis of the tour. When it comes to slavery, the tour guides describe a system of “Creole slavery” that was generous and fair to the slaves. Slavery was not as bad under the French as it became under the Americans, the tour guides suggest. “Everyone worked, from family members to slaves, because life on a plantation was not easy,” reads the plantation brochure. “It has been documented that slaves at Destrehan Plantation were treated with fairness and their health needs provided for.” But even the relatives of Jean Noël Destrehan cannot deny the events of January 1811. In a converted slave cabin not featured on the standard tour, the tour guides have constructed a museum to the 1811 uprising. With brief descriptions of the major events, the cabin features folk paintings that imagine what the event would have looked like. Just as in the history books, the story of slave politics is compartmentalized away from the central narrative of American history.

Slowly, so slowly, Rowan shook his head. “Once he got word of the uprising in Eyllwe, the King of Adarlan sent two other legions north. None were spared in Endovier.

That night, they were drinking at the bar with the big game hunter and novelist Robert Ruark, whose recent book about the Mau Mau uprising, titled Something of Value, was an international bestseller. In high spirits, Holden proposed buying the outmoded hotel, which was listed for sale. “Put up or shut up,” said Ruark. “Well, that did it for me,” Holden told Stefanie Powers, as their car bounced along the dusty road. “If I was sober I would not have bought the hotel,” he yelled over the noise of the car’s engine. “But I’m glad I did.

Then the cycle began again under the Qing Dynasty. China achieved its maximum territorial expansion, governing over a third of the world’s population while reforms under the reigns of three long-ruling emperors led to an extended period of economic prosperity.3 Then the European powers arrived. Earlier in this book we saw how the European powers, in the Age of Exploration, used their military strength to trade with and exploit resource-rich but militarily weaker foreigners. That’s what happened starting in the early 1800s, which began what is called the Century of Humiliation in China. The Europeans came offering to trade but the Chinese didn’t want anything they had to offer. This led to the British bringing opium into China to get the Chinese addicted, so that they would trade for it. A series of military confrontations followed during the 1800s (most notably the Opium Wars), which sped China’s decline. Chinese moves to stem their decline failed and there was great internal conflict and uprisings (most notably the Taiping Rebellion), which continued until the collapse of the Qing Dynasty in 1912.

When we look at the whole picture, the book of Romans teaches that we are saved by grace alone, through faith alone, in the event of baptism alone. Baptism is not a work of man for salvation; it is the “powerful working of God” in us at that event (Col. 2:12). Baptism is the “real sinner’s prayer” where we call out to God for his saving grace (1 Pet. 3:21; cf. Acts 22:16).

up was the necessary supply chain in case he had to leave Bohemia

He thought how easy it would be to write an entire book on Johannesburg violence. The strike leader Pickaxe Mary, after whom Mary Fitzgerald Square was named, who attacked her enemies with a pickaxe handle. The trenches dug into the streets of Fordsburg during the 1922 miners’ strike. The cannons of the government aimed at the poor whites of Vrededorp. The murdered woman in the 1960s whose head was found in the Zoo Lake and whose torso was discovered in a suitcase in Wemmer Pan. Jan Smuts, who wanted to bomb striking workers with aeroplanes. The countless schoolchildren shot during the 1976 uprising. The fifty-three supporters who were shot down in the street outside Shell House, the ANC headquarters. The huge bomb that went off shortly before the first democratic election and made a whole row of shops kneel down on the pavements of Bree Street. The commuters, in the early 1990s, killed by pangas or who jumped to their deaths from moving trains to escape their Portuguese-speaking attackers. The murderess Daisy de Melker, whose third husband survived only because she was caught in time. The violent home invasions, rapes and hijackings he read about in the newspapers every day.

Waxman devised something far more attention-grabbing and dramatic. The following Sunday, Burton was booked for an encore appearance on Meet the Press. The show’s host, Tim Russert, was quietly made aware of the discrepancy between the two sets of Hubbell transcripts.* On Sunday, when the cameras began rolling, Burton became an unwitting captive as Russert, the dean of Washington journalism and a maestro of the prosecutorial interview, confronted the chairman on air with evidence of the doctored transcripts. The uproar was immediate and intense. Gingrich, humiliated, condemned Burton’s committee as “the circus.” Republicans fumed at the embarrassment Burton had brought on them and demanded he atone for it. The Washington Post splashed the story across its front page: “Burton Apologizes to GOP.” The

He passed the time reading books on Zen Buddhism and playing basketball, where his ball-hogging style of play earned him the nickname “Coast to Coast.

Rehearsed in the rigors of right-wing attacks, Clinton’s aides went after the source of so many of them: Peter Schweizer’s book. They tried to discredit Clinton Cash as they had successfully done to numerous anti-Clinton polemics in the 1990s. But their efforts mostly failed because Schweizer’s book was not filled with outlandish rumors and blind quotes, as the earlier books had been; it contained documentable facts that reporters could check out for themselves. To

We live and die by the media. Every time we’re launching a book, I’ll build a battle map that literally breaks down by category every headline we’re going to place, every op-ed Peter’s going to publish. . . . Getting our message embedded in mainstream outlets is what gets us the biggest blast radius.

This issue of Stvar we dedicate to the anniversaries. Each effort that commences from historical years and epochal dates, however, is not only supposed to cope with the legacy and lessons of evoked events and figures, but also to question a certain (dominant) relation to the past and history. In other words, the task is not a commemorative one, that is, a fetishist relation to the epoch of decisive dates and big events, but rather the radical grasping of the materiality of history following its work where social contradictions require that fight for emancipation and progress is to be taken up. What is at stake here is not an academic requiem or a leftist memorial service to the era of revolutions and great revolutionaries; it is all about casting our gaze toward the past in order to better examine those moments where the past opens itself toward the future. The relation toward past, therefore, should contain perspectives of different future. Amputation of the future is nowadays one of the features of many current academic, scientific and ideological discourses. Once this perspective of different future has been eliminated, the resignification of Marx, Luxemburg, Kollontai, Lenin and others becomes possible, because their doctrines and results have been quite depoliticized. On the contrary, it is the memory that calls for struggle that is the main cognitive attitude toward the events remembered in the collected texts in this issue. Not nostalgic or collectionist remembrance but critical memory filled with hope. The main question, thus, is that of radical social transformations, i.e. theory and practice of revolution. In this sense, Marx, Kollontai, Lenin and other Bolsheviks, and Gramsci as well, constitute the coordinates in which every theoretical practice that wants to offer resistance to capitalist expansion and its ideological forms is moving. The year 1867, when the first Volume of Marx’s Capital is brought out in Hamburg, then October 1917 in Russia, when all power went to the hands of Soviets, and 1937, when Gramsci dies after 11 years of fascist prison: these are three events that we are rethinking, highlighting and interpreting so that perspective of the change of the current social relations can be further developed and carried on. Publishing of the book after which nothing was the same anymore, a revolutionary uprising and conquest of the power, and then a death in jail are the coordinates of historical outcomes as well: these events can be seen as symptomatic dialectical-historical sequence. Firstly, in Capital Marx laid down foundations for the critique of political economy, indispensable frame for every understanding of production and social relations in capitalism, and then in 1917, in the greatest attempt of the organization of working masses, Bolsheviks undermined seriously the system of capitalist production and created the first worker’s state of that kind; and at the end, Gramsci’s death in 1937 somehow symbolizes a tragical outcome and defeat of all aspirations toward revolutionizing of social relations in the Western Europe. Instead of that, Europe got fascism and the years of destruction and sufferings. Although the 1937 is the symbolic year of defeat, it is also a testimony of hope and survival of a living idea that inspires thinkers and revolutionaries since Marx. Gramsci also handed down the huge material of his prison notebooks, as one of the most original attempts to critically elaborate Marx’s and Lenin’s doctrine in new conditions. Isn’t this task the same today?

Firstly, given that a lasting solution to security threats requires fundamental change rather than near-constant crisis suppression and stabilisation, is there any way to avoid a trade-off between less short-term security and greater long-term security? At a superficial level, such a trade-off seems unavoidable but the dilemma may be largely one of risk perception and the need to be seen to act decisively. The 2011 uprisings across the region appear to testify against the notion that short-term security can be purchased at the expense of a state’s longer-term development and self determination. A critical question, therefore, becomes whether there is a way to avoid a perceived trade-off between less short-term security and more long-term security in front of a domestic audience? In other words, can a Western audience perceive the risks associated with political instability in the Middle East to be potentially beneficial for building more stable polities in the future and, moreover, something over which its elected officials can exercise little real positive influence in the short-term? US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and others have repeatedly stressed their concerns that a power vaccuum or a civil war in Yemen may play into al-Qaeda’s hands.

During dinner, the governor, Phani Bhushan Chakraborty, asked Atlee why the British had left India in such a hurry. Atlee replied that the British had left because Subhas Bose's campaign was leading to an uprising in the Indian army and the navy, and that Gandhi had a minimal role in their withdrawal. The governor mentioned this conversation in a book that he wrote later on.

Five earls, three barons, and sixteen knights were implicated in the uprising, yet Shakespeare survived that rebellion unremarked upon. He was not summoned before the Star Chamber like Marlowe. He did not have his papers seized or his books burned. He was not punished in any way. Although clearly aligned with the Essex faction, he wasn’t even called as a witness. Who was protecting Shakespeare at this point? The

Five earls, three barons, and sixteen knights were implicated in the uprising, yet Shakespeare survived that rebellion unremarked upon. He was not summoned before the Star Chamber like Marlowe. He did not have his papers seized or his books burned. He was not punished in any way. Although clearly aligned with the Essex faction, he wasn’t even called as a witness. Who was protecting Shakespeare at this point?