Wednesday, May 7, 2025
Blog Page 364

Bodleian Bangers: Alan Rusbridger

Matthew Prudham
-
0
Bodleian Bangers: Alan Rusbridger

Starting a new music series where we ask Oxford dons and alumni about their favourite tunes, artists and composers, Matthew Prudham speaks to Lady Margaret Hall Principal and Former Guardian Editor-in-Chief Alan Rusbridger.

MP: So, to start us off, what is the one song you can’t you keep listening to at the moment?

Alan: So I, nearly all the music I listen to is classical. Does that matter?

MP: No, that’s fine! 

Alan: So that the answer is I’m very obsessed with the last 45 minutes of Act I of The Marriage of Figaro. It has an incredible structure where it begins with two people, three people, then four people, then five people, finally, and six people. And it’s each bit within it is contrasted with a bit before, and every tune is astonishing. The drama, the pathos, the weight, the sparkling energy,  the musical invention… if you want 45 minutes of music to die to the last bit of the first act of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro is as good as any 45 minutes of music.

MP: That’s quite a statement. I’m pretty sure that’ll attract some debate! If you had to choose one album or work to be the only thing you would hear for the rest of your life; something that wouldn’t get too repetitive but that you could enjoy listening to over and over again. What would it be?

Alan: Let’s say Bach’s St. John’s Passion. I myself, like a lot of people, sort of underrate Bach because he’s not romantic – his language was more limited and he was writing with sort of smaller forces. Though it’s more intimate than your Romantic opera, The Passion holds a power and intensity, emotional depths and heights. It’d obviously a huge work, at whatever it is, two and a half hours? It’s about the most profound subjects, it holds incredibly revolutionary harmonies and orchestrations.

I mean, it goes from sort of enormous numbers where you see a composer playing for the first time with a possibility of brass, with incredible Baroque trumpets – but also some of the most precious parts. I went to a performance once in King’s College, Cambridge, sitting very near the Viola de Gamba; and Bach writes for whole sessions of just a Viola de Gamba and voice. The Passion can be very small, almost like chamber music, and it can be enormous as if it was an opera or mass. If the challenge is to find something that that you were trying to endlessly fascinating, that would be it.

MP: Who would you say that are the most in the three most important artists or composers in your in your life, which made the most personal impact? 

Alan: I would say Schubert was one of them. Again, I came quite late to Schubert; I sort of thought he was a poor man’s Beethoven, but actually, he’s incredible – especially his range. I mean, just recently I’ve been playing a lot of his song cycles on the piano; his sonatas, his chamber music, his the symphonic music – it’s just an array of astonishing output: 900 and something pieces!

Also, I’m going to say Benjamin Britten. He’s been a sort of hinge into contemporary music for me, with which sometimes I struggled. And I think Britten at his best was the opera Peter Grimes, which feels to me as so contemporary because it’s about society and outcasts from society. If you think about Trump’s America and the kind of populist mobs that exists in Peter Grimes, you know, it’s a very contemporary opera. I think Britten was an admirable, brave person and a humanist as well as a brilliant composer.

And increasingly, Wagner would be. Again, it’s funny how you develop as a listener. I thought Wagner was such a boring and verbose and I wasn’t interested in the plots, but then flipped. I mean, when you talk about the last 45 minutes of Figaro, listen to the last 45 minutes of Act III of Die Walküre. If you’re not in tears by the end of that…  I’m still not really interested in the plots – all that German folklore and myths leave me a bit cold.

I’ve just bought Alex Ross’s book, Wagnerism, the effect of Wagner on the world since his death, his impact on music. At the time, being called a Wagnerist could be pretty damning abuse; people cared enough about music that, concerning Brahms and Wagner and Verdi, you had to be one camp or the other. Can you imagine that right – saying I’m, I’m a Maxwell Davis-ist or a George Benjamin-ist. It’s not that centralised any more. 

MP: So, for a bit of nostalgia for the normal times where we could have fun and enjoy things. What was the last and the best concert that you’ve attended? 

Alan: The last concert I attended was at the Royal Festival Hall in March last year. So just as the pandemic was all kicking off, it was George Benjamin’s 60th Birthday concert. So, the programme was full of music by him, but also with things like the Janacek’s Sinfonietta – you know with the big trumpets (imitates trumpets)…That was the last concert I went to, sadly…

The best… I went to Austria in 2008 when Alfred Brendel was giving his last ever concert. And I went to the Musikverein which an incredible concert hall in Vienna. Just because, you know, there was a man grew up in Austria during the Second World War, and has been a sort of Titan of music. I just wanted to be there for the last time he ever played in public and it was very moving.

I think he was about 80 and it was great to see somebody go out at the peak of his powers.. I’ve been to concerts with very distinguished old pianists who were sort of a bit past their best, whilst Brendel just decided to go while I’m still at the top of my game. He performed Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 9 in E-flat and then a solo piano piece at the end, and it was all there. But I think it was a brave thing to go at his time of choosing. 

MP: I’m going to try and test your your knowledge of the the music of the youth; what artists do you think that this year’s freshers are listening to right now? 

Alan: Adele? (Laughs)  

MP: What should they be listening to instead?

Alan: The Beatles?

MP: I mean, the Beatles are fantastic. You can’t knock that.

If you’re talking about music, it’s going to sort of stand the test of time and was revolutionary – surely The Beatles?

MP: Do you have a favourite Beatles record? 

Alan: I think…. the White Album. 

MP: I completely agree! It’s just the amount of adventure and that found it so many genres of music in one album. When you say “You know, the Beatles – they invented heavy metal. Some people are bemused because they can’t imagine them being the same band.

So, let’s imagine that it’s late at night at the old Guardian offices, and you need to hear something to get yourself through the last checks of an edition. What are you putting on to give you that extra push something that will motivate you?

Alan: Well, I went through a phase when I was at college, during my university years, listening to the Grateful Dead. I think people felt they were sort of caught up with acid and were quite far out. And if you followed them, people would call you a “Deadhead”. So, I was kind of semi-“Deadhead” for a bit.  There’s an album called Wake of the Flood.  Before the pandemic, I took up swimming while listening to music through waterproof earphones. It’s immensely energetic, invigorating, motivating music. So, yeah, that would be a good choice.

MP: Fantastic. And so finally, if you could sum up Oxford in a piece of music, what would you choose?

Alan: Elgar’s First Symphony in A Flat in the sense that I think sometimes people listen to Elgar, and they think it’s very grand and is about Empire in some sense. But actually, if you listen to it, it’s very tender and vulnerable and emotional. And so sometimes I think Oxford can seem very sort of formal and unchanging and unbending; but actually, the people are what makes it special. So, if you look beneath the surface, as well in that Elgar Symphony, you’re into a completely different sound world – but you have to look beneath the surface, and the same is with Oxford. 

MP: That’s a very apt way of describing Oxford. Well, that’s all the questions that I had to ask. Thanks so much for your time! 

Alan: Well, if one person tunes into one of those things and finds out that they like it, then it’s definitely worth it. 

Find the full playlist for the interview on the Cherwell Spotify: @cherwellmusic.

Dear diary: new year, new me?

Elsie Clark
-
0
Dear diary: new year, new me?

Since 2016 I have kept a diary, and over the past five years I have somehow managed to write in it every single day. No breaks, no omissions: just 1825 pages of my random scribblings from the ages of 14-19, peppered with strange anecdotes and long tangents on events of interest to no one but myself.

And since 2016, on the page marked ‘January 1st’, I have written my New Year’s Resolutions, apparently in the desperate hope that by setting them down in pen they might actually come to fruition. But out of the 15 goals I have set for myself over the past five years, I’ve only stuck to one! This leaves me with a staggeringly unsuccessful 6.67% success rate when it comes to New Year’s Resolutions.

Wondering how I had gone so wrong I looked more closely at what I’d resolved to do, and as I did so several common themes emerged:

1.    Attempts at fitness: “do some form of exercise once a week” (2016); “exercise at least once a week” (2017 – unoriginal copy of last year’s resolution); “exercise 3-4 times a week” (2018 – a massive increase on the previous year’s target. Not sure where this sudden unjustified enthusiasm for the gym came from).

2.    Healthy eating: “eat less unhealthy food” (2016 – uselessly vague); “not to eat mindlessly” (2021 – broken mere hours into the New Year when I found out I wouldn’t be allowed back to Oxford until at least the 25th and had to eat 2 bowls of Shreddies in rapid succession just to feel something).

3.    Relationships: “Do something re my crush???” (2018 – questions marks suggest I was already highly sceptical that I would ever do this); “get over my crush” (2019 – a resolution achieved, but only in the year after I set it so it doesn’t count).

Interestingly, the one year for which I made no resolutions at all was 2020. Perhaps deep inside I knew what was to come and that I should not bother – or I simply forgot to write them down. One or the other.

Why do we set these unconvincing and often unachievable targets every year? With the emergence of the #selfcare movement there has been increasing backlash against the idea of ‘New Year, New You’, most notably from celebrity activist Jameela Jamil who stated on Instagram last week that “we deserve to focus on a happier and more mentally stable us” rather than “the stupid fucking diet and detox industry”.

She has a point. Many, myself included, feel pressure to overhaul themselves come January 1st, throwing out their ‘old self’ along with the Christmas tree and the Bounties at the bottom of the Celebrations box. No one better embodies this desperate desire for change than Bridget Jones, who lays out her New Year’s resolutions on the opening pages of Helen Fielding’s genius novel. She asserts, amongst other things, that she will not “smoke/spend more than earn/get upset over men/bitch about anyone behind their backs”, but instead will “stop smoking/be more confident/be more assertive/eat more pulses/form functional relationship with responsible adult” and so on.

25 years on, these declarations remain funny because we are still making ones exactly like them: Bridget’s resolutions, like mine, could fit into the exact same Fitness/Food/Relationships categories listed above. So many of our years begin with such indefinable goals such as “get fitter”, “be happier,” or “be nicer to others” without setting out any realistic way of achieving them. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to improve, as long as it’s for the right reasons, but if you are going to make a resolution it has to be one you can actually stick to or measure. It’s all very well saying that I will eat less mindlessly this year, but what must I do if I want to achieve this? (This is a question with an easy answer I don’t want to accept: stop buying Shreddies.)

In the social media age I see more and more people resolving not to exercise more or eat less, but instead to “be proud of themselves no matter what”, “get help when I need it”, or “learn to say yes/no more”. These are more positive resolutions than Bridget’s list of musts and must nots. But I’m beginning to realise the arbitrariness of it all: why does it have to be ‘New Year, New Me’? Why, if you want to do something, can’t you just decide to start at any point in the year? If you want to take up stamp collecting, or pet more dogs, or stop listening to the same six songs you’ve had in your playlist since you were 14, why wait until January 1st to do it?

The single resolution out of the 15 that I did manage to keep dates back to 2016, where I announced that I would “write in this diary every single day”. I have managed to stick to it for over five years now, just because keeping a diary combines writing and moaning, my two favourite things. If the failure of the majority of my resolutions has taught me anything, it’s that you have to make them with conviction or there’s no point doing it at all. And I swear I really am going to stop mindlessly eating this year – just as soon as I finish this bowl of Shreddies.

Art by Rachel Jung

Not driving home for Christmas

Shreya Banerjee
-
0
Not driving home for Christmas

Whenever I feel homesick, I find that my mind drifts to those things that have evolved into family traditions over time. This past winter vacation was no different, and although the childish glee of Christmas has frosted over for me, December is still a month enriched with small habits and special meals, each embedded with sentimental value. And so, though I was in Oxford for the entirety of this vacation, images from my childhood wove their way in and out of my mind: the twinkling of lights reflected in windows and the scent of silky onions, poking out from steaming trays of roast potatoes, inspiring my own Christmas dinner. Spending this winter vacation away from home, I considered what parts of Christmas I feel are the most essential, and by reworking old traditions and fashioning new ones for myself, I developed an antidote to this particular brand of sensory homesickness.

Vac is a time prescribed for rest. With hours melting away like butter in a pan, and days punctuated only by Netflix’s “Are you still watching?” messages, I couldn’t be further from the structure or schedules that term thrusts upon me. This psychological shift is, however, usually accompanied by a geographical counterpart, with all the components of my university life hastily packed away into bags and shoved into a car – except, with tests coming back positive back home, this time was different. At the end of 8th week, however, I was optimistic: the winter break – the one that always seems to whizz past, with only the 25th and 31st as markers of time – was my opportunity to fill in the blanks left by the term-time hullabaloo.

Growing up in a non-Christian household, I’ve long been accustomed to picking and choosing from popular traditions, especially during the festive season. As a result, I underlined panettone on this year’s festive shopping list, the Milanese sweet bread that my family ritually devour on Christmas Day, conscious of my cultural distance from religious activities that would simultaneously be taking place. In Oxford, I also bought my first real Christmas tree – I was previously committed to the practicality of the packaged plastic that I would adorn back home, but now, I can’t believe that nobody told me how good real pines smell.

One moment stands out to me when reflecting on my vac in Oxford. As I was walking down Turl Street, beckoned by golden streetlights bleeding into the fog of the inky afternoon, I realised the malleable nature of customs, and that I was forging my own traditions in this city day-by-day. It was a walk I’ve done countless times before (admittedly, out-of-breath as I race to the Classics Faculty), but it felt as though I’d discovered it anew as the cold wrapped around my fingers like a Christmas ribbon. I headed back to my room, furnished with an appreciation for this unique Christmastime and presents to tuck under the tree.

Spending unexpected time in Oxford outside of term has refreshed my relationship with the city. Now, passing the Rad Cam, I’m reminded of those who gathered (socially distanced) outside the enduring monument at midnight on New Year’s Eve. We took it in turns to cry out, “Happy New Year!” – to those here during term, those here all year round, and to those who can’t wait to return.

Oxford student street style

Leia Liew
-
0
Oxford student street style

Walking around Oxford, on the Tescolator, in the Pret queue, in the Gladstone link, even when on a bike, flashes of fashion catch my eye. Everyone has a different sense of style and knowledge of what works specifically for them. But I love variety – that’s what makes the world so much more interesting. Being an avid “papper”, I decided to put all these photographs of Oxford-esque fashion inspirations onto a grid, @itsoxfstyle, and share it with the world. Apart from being an inspiration to my own fashion sense, I hope that others can see my platform as a spark for their own creativity.

The kind of garments that you don undoubtedly creates an impression about you as a person, including your vibe, and the crowd you find yourself in. Oxford is a university where you will always have at least one mutual friend with someone you walk past on Cornmarket, and so what one wears is almost an identification with a certain group in Oxford. Clothing, on an Oxford student, is integral to crafting an identity. As much as people like to argue that first impressions don’t count, I disagree. A simple compliment on someone’s buffalos can create a friendship, and a question about where someone got their corduroy jacket can initiate an outing to Gloucester Green market. What you wear automatically attracts a particular type of person. 

I like to think that Oxford students (on the whole) have a “cool” fashion vibe, with a curious mix of garbs. With traditional grand buildings and dreamy spires as a backdrop, a bright Berghaus aztec print jacket, for instance, is a sharp, yet memorable contrast to the warm, yellow coloured sandstone surroundings. Beyond the Oxford sports kit, college or rowing stash, matching sweats, oversized hoodies with flared trousers, and the tasteful basics, Oxford students offer a plethora of individualistic outfits that I cannot wait to capture.

What do Oxford students wear? There is of course no distinct answer – what one wears to tutes is significantly different to what one wears to a sesh (or not?). However, I will try and list some refreshing recent trends that struck me. Delicious layering with detailed collars, vintage granddad patterned vests to style out the vagaries of the British weather, oversized rugby stripes with baggy jeans, statement necklaces that accentuate a thoughtfully minimalist outfit. Leather jackets to create a slim silhouette, tweed jackets for a pop of attention, classic corduroys to let the trousers do the talking. Graphic t-shirts with a shimmering long sleeved top hidden underneath, sharp blazers to add an edge with ripped jeans, chunky oversized “ugly” trainers paired with a checked skirt, unbuttoned blouses with long sleeved top and velvety trousers. 

What one wears in Oxford allows you to be a shapeshifter. There is no one word to describe exactly how Oxford students dress because it is just so varied and unpredictable. One word that I would not use to describe Oxford students, however, is sloppy. Whether it be the edgy hoodie or the Keith Haring top or the khaki chinos, there is always a spark of “fashpiration” to glean from any Oxford student strutting down Broad Street.

A friend of mine, Marnie Shutter who is also a great style inspiration, once said to me that clothing was an outlet for your inner creativity if you couldn’t paint or sing or write. Anyone can turn a piece of clothing into a piece of confidence. Oxford students dress to express and embrace. Ruffling through the racks of clothing in Oxford charity shops brings an exhilaration that cannot be replicated anywhere else. They are treasure troves in which you discover gems unique to your personality. Of course, Depop is an absolute gem of an app and Westgate satisfies our infinite needs but finding a piece so unique to you and you only – that’s an unparalleled feeling.

With a new batch of freshers settling into Oxford, however, who knows how the fashion scene in Oxford will develop? One trend I’ve certainly picked up on and cannot ignore is the “Tik Tok” style – perhaps some will take that style and make some twists & turns to create an unforeseen breakthrough in the Oxford fashion scene.

Fashion forecast: what fresh fits will define 2021?

Various contributors
-
0
Fashion forecast: what fresh fits will define 2021?

ANNA ROBERTS:

The Bratz doll silhouette has been edging into style for a few years now, but in 2020 it really came into its own. Y2K style is everywhere, especially on Depop and TikTok. Indeed, the sale of vintage and second-hand pieces has also characterised 2020’s trends, partly owing to the movement towards environmentally-conscious fashion consumption.

How will the Y2K obsession translate into 2021’s trends? I’m predicting that flares and platform boots are here to stay. At the moment flares are somewhat fashion-forward, but 2021 might see the flared trouser becoming the staple shape for jeans (and anything that distances our legs from jeggings is good in my book). Personally, I love the resurgence of wedges: faux-suede wedge boots (like the ones your year 5 supply teacher wore) are a trend I fully endorse buying into. Flares and wedges as a noughties throwback coincide well with another 2020 vintage trend: the resurgence of the 70s silhouette. Not just bell-bottoms but also batwing and flute-sleeved tops and printed dresses are coming back. 2021 is shaping up to be a year of fashion throwbacks; I am looking forward to the twenty-twenties-does-noughties-doing-the-nineties-doing-the-seventies trends to come this year. Here’s to higher platforms, home-made corset tops, and low-rise bell-bottoms!

LARISSA KOERBER:

2020 was the year of loungewear and trendy masks. Pandemic attire may have been extremely comfortable, but its time in the spotlight should end.

2021 will likely witness the rise of warm, earthy colours, ranging from camels, terracottas to mustard yellows. The SS21 ready-to-wear collections of landmark fashion houses Gucci, Proenza Schouler, Louis Vuitton, Hermes and Dior showcased pieces in this particular colour palettes. Warm tones are solar, delicate yet bold, and embody a grounded, positive state of mind. They can perfectly be associated with bohemian-style garments and utility wear that will be here to stay in this new year. 2021’s colours bring warmth and security – they will light up our spirits and accompany us for what hopefully will soon be a return to normality. Travelling, exploring – earthy tones are the perfect fit for the adventures that 2021 will bring us. We cannot forget about their versatility: from camel blazers to mahogany, and, pourquoi pas, chartreuse flowy dresses, our entire spring/summer wardrobe will radiate mellow energy. Bonus point: they suit all skin tones and undertones, whether warm or cool!

Cherwell fashion certainly looks forward to witnessing this new trend, albeit remotely for now, but hopefully soon in our personal favourite fashion capital – Oxford.

MARIETTA KOSMA:

Just because we are quarantined, it does not mean that we cannot maintain our sense of style. Even though we are confined, we can still think out of the box. The elegance of the 19th century has inspired fashion over the years, from corsets to hoop skirts. However, an everlasting trend seems to be the Victorian era inspired sleeves. In the 18th century, wearing big puffs of fabric in one’s arms helped define the female figure. As women could not show off their waist or other body parts, bringing emphasis to their arms through the puffed sleeves was essential. However, gone are the days when ruffles and frills were branded ‘too girly’; the trend has been reiterated to give a high-fashion look that’s dramatic and structured all at once’. Victorian sleeves are timeless. They constitute a style statement as they do more than adding a feminine touch to one’s attire, they add a dramatic dimension. Wearing Victorian sleeves makes one look thinner, as they create the illusion of a slimmer waist by drawing attention to one’s arms. They provide a high-fashioned look so I believe that Victorian-inspired sleeves will continue to be a trend in 2021.

Winter wardrobe essentials

Various contributors
-
0
Winter wardrobe essentials

The only possible way to remedy the shortened days and Tupperware skies of winter is to imagine yourself as a sexy, mysterious, no-time-for-your-bullshit, French woman striding around snowy Paris. I propose that it is, of course, the humble beret that provides the fool-proof means to achieve this persona. Not only are they the height of practicality — the crown of your head snuggling under its toasty woollen duvet; one, or two, smothered ears warding off the bitter air and interminable conversation of your family members  — but berets, in their inherent flexibility, are also immensely creative. Being a beret-wearer is a substantial responsibility, the first burden being that of colour. I long for the day that Buzzfeed releases a quiz to distinguish between people whose ‘soul beret’ would be classic black, trendy red, jolly technicolour, or completely bejewelled. Next comes the importance of silhouette; only a Francophobe would consider beret-shaping trivial. A multitude of existential questions arise: does today beckon an exposed beret rim and a pouchy, free-standing beret body, or will you flatten the beret to your head, rolling the edge under itself? Will your beret defy gravity, balancing asymmetrically over one ear, or will you blasphemously centralise this almost divinely circular hat across your forehead? The world of berets offers endless opportunity, making it a winter essential in every sophisticate’s wardrobe.

Written by Isabella Reynolds

My winter wardrobe essential for this year has to be stash. Now, I know what you’re thinking ‘stash comes in many forms, and so calling stash an essential is just as specific as saying “clothes”’, and I was once like you, but, in these uNCeRtAin tiMeS, I’ve found stash to be pretty important. Not only does it remind me that I’m part of many different communities despite the fact that it’s been difficult to do anything in person for most of the year, but it allows me to irritate my family who already think I have my head up my arse about going to Oxford. For the two weeks prior to going into tier 4, I was able to use college stash to maintain meaningless college rivalries with total strangers that I saw on the tube. Despite being far too self conscious to actually speak to anyone wearing an Oxford puffer, I’m sure the frustrated eye contact did the perfect job, truly in the spirit of Christmas.

Written by Lily Kershaw

Undoubtedly the essential that must grace any wannabe fashionista’s winter wardrobe is the timeless long line coat. No other item can quite compare to the power such a necessity places upon the fortunate shoulders of the lucky coat bearer. Such a versatile piece can be styled up or down, paired with chunky trainers and baggy jeans to create an everyday look, or complimented by thigh high boots and a mini skirt to ooze a more sophisticated vibe. The possibilities are endless. Of course the varieties of patterns which can adorn such a coat are also endless. A personal favourite is the pastel block colour, with my own baby blue calf length coat being one of my favourite possessions. However, one thing is for certain, no matter what colour long line coat you wear or what you choose to wear it with, the feeling it gives you when strutting down cornmarket is unmatched.

Written by Rochelle Moss

It is cold outside. The harsh wind billows. The hairs that blanket your unforgivingly protruding ears are whipped into submission. You are alerted that it is indeed cold outside. 

In the past, to overcome such circumstances, one would reach for a marginally hideous hat their grandmother had knitted for the festive season (I truly love it nan thanks!). Not this year. Hell has descended on earth in the shape of two cotton balls and some wire. The Ear Muff.

Conceived with good intentions, the protective ear muffs have been thrust aside by their pointless, effortlessly fluffy counterparts, adorned by those desperate to make a statement. Not only are they far inferior to the trusted wooly hat appearance-wise, thermal ear muffs leave your eyesight fending for itself, as your hearing has all but disappeared. 

I end this incoherent ramble with a pledge to not succumb to society’s potential future craze. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

Written by Agata Gwincinska

The Punjabi Farmers Standing up for India’s Democracy

Ciara Garcha
-
0
The Punjabi Farmers Standing up for India’s Democracy

Photographs of the ongoing Indian farmer strikes have trickled through to social media feeds across the world, in stark contrast with the relative silence of European media. Whilst many in the UK and Europe remain unaware of events in India, they amount to a bold attempt to secure the future of the world’s largest democracy.

The farmers that first flooded onto the streets of India a few months ago, trekking the over 230 miles from Punjab to Delhi, were raising their voices against rash reforms passed by Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s right-wing Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government. The new legislation opens the sector up to exploitation and manipulation by private corporations, removing safeguards for farmers and largely deregulating the industry. But with around three quarters of the Punjabi population being employed in agriculture and the sector making up around 25% of the state’s economy, the new reforms represent an attack on Punjab and the Punjabi people. 

Punjab, “the bread basket of India,” is home to mostly small and medium-scale farmers, with 85% of India’s farmers owning less than five acres of land. Thus, the preference and support given to large corporations by the new legislation has pitted the small-scale farmers of Punjab against powerful businesses, many with close links to Modi and his government. 

The protests have come to represent something more than just a struggle against a piece of farming legislation, but a struggle for India’s future. The reforms and the outcry in response to them must be viewed in the context of Modi’s six years as Prime Minister and the agenda he and his BJP party have pursued. As a proponent of Hindutva—the ideology of Hindu-Indian nationalism—many of Modi and the BJP’s policies fly in the face of the secularism that India was founded upon when it achieved independence in 1947. 

The 2019 Citizenship Amendment Bill is a recent example of this nationalist agenda, which sparked controversy and anger within India and across the world. The bill removed the right of Muslim refugees from certain neighbouring countries to claim Indian citizenship, an explicit expression of the BJP’s narrow view of what it means to be Indian, which was brought into the political mainstream with Modi’s rise and election as prime minister in 2014. Protests against his Citizenship Amendment Bill were met with brutal state repression, as well as paramilitary violence. Similarly, peaceful protesters demonstrating against the farming laws have been met with tear gas, water cannons, rubber bullets and batons. As images emerge of protesters feeling the wrath of a storm of rubber bullets, or an elderly Sikh man cowering as a paramilitary member swings a baton over his head, India’s claim to being the world’s largest democracy seems increasingly dubious.

It is not difficult to see how the changes in agricultural law are an extension of the Hindutva agenda. As the farming sector is home to approximately 16 million Sikhs, making up nearly 60% of the state’s population and much of the agricultural workforce, the farming bill appears to disproportionately target India’s Sikh population. Punjab is a vast, diverse state and the continuing strikes have been assembled of farmers and allies of all faiths and backgrounds, united and standing in solidarity. However, it is not unreasonable to think that an attack on the home of India’s largest Sikh population was motivated partially by narrow, discriminatory ideas of Indian nationalism. Yet, in standing together—Sikhs, Muslims and Hindus amongst others—and journeying through the streets of India, Punjabi farmers are not just resisting unfair legal reforms. They are fighting for India’s proudly multi-faith, secular and democratic character. 

As one of the states divided by the outgoing British colonial administration in 1947, Punjab has had a difficult history relating to religion. But these protests have showed a positive view of the diversity within Punjab and India itself, flying in the face of the BJP’s Hindu-focused ideas. Images of Muslim protesters serving the traditional Sikh meal, langar, to their compatriots, or of farmers of all faiths standing guard whilst Muslim demonstrators pray, show the significance of these protests. For an India which is having its secular commitment tested by the BJP’s agenda, scenes of solidarity emerging from the ongoing farming strikes inspire hope that an inclusive, diverse, positive future is still possible for India.  

The strikes have also inspired movements beyond India. British Punjabis and diaspora groups across the world have stood in solidarity in a range of places including Leicester, San Francisco, London and Toronto. As home to over 700,000 Punjabis, the largest ethnicity amongst British Asians, the UK has seen several demonstrations in support of the striking farmers and in solidarity with those facing repression in India. In Leicester and London, car rallies were held, bringing traffic to a standstill in the capital as demonstrators assembled outside the High Commission of India. British Sikhs in particular have been at the forefront of the demonstrations in the UK, as 92% of Sikhs in the UK have ties to agricultural land in India. For many Sikhs within India and around the world, agriculture is intertwined with their heritage and an attack on independent Punjabi farmers has, to many, translated as an attack on Sikh culture and identity. The global Punjabi population is therefore playing a part in resisting an attack on such a fundamental part of Punjabi culture.

The events playing out in India, coupled with the global outcry, have, however, failed to capture the attention of many sections of western media and politics. Indeed, even Prime Minister Boris Johnson—the head of government in a country with one of the largest Punjabi communities in the world—seemed completely unaware of the ongoing strikes. When quizzed about the state’s brutal treatment of protesting farmers by Labour MP Tan Dhesi, Britain’s first turbaned Sikh MP, Johnson responded that he had “serious concerns about what is happening between India and Pakistan”, but that they were “matters for those two governments to settle.” Johnson’s apparent and complete ignorance of events in India is both shocking and alarming.      

Even as British Indians take to the streets to stand in solidarity with the striking farmers, the Prime Minister, eyeing a post-Brexit trade deal with India, remains ignorant or otherwise disinterested in the crisis. In accepting an invitation to meet with Modi in January despite his discriminatory agenda and the current turbulent backdrop, Johnson seems to be tacitly accepting events in India instead of raising his voice in opposition. Of course, the relationship between Britain and India has been a historically brutal one of centuries-long British colonisation and repression. But if India and Britain are to move forwards, the Prime Minister must first educate himself on what is actually happening in India and present democratic opposition reflecting the concerns of the British Indian population when he meets Modi in January. 

The global Punjabi diaspora and allies across the world hope for a peaceful future for Punjab and India, but with Modi and the BJP at its helm, this seems doubtful. Some have claimed the number of participants in the ongoing demonstrations is around 250 million—nearly four times the population of the UK—which would make them the largest mass demonstrations in history. And though such an important story has failed to gain the attention of the western public and its leadership, the ongoing protests are of paramount importance to global politics and the international climate. 

In boldly standing against the reforms, even as rubber bullets rain down on them or they feel the wrath of the water cannon, the striking farmers are fighting for their livelihood and are standing on the front lines of the very future of India’s democracy. Punjabi-born Canadian poet, Rupi Kaur, summed up what is at stake for Punjab and India: “The ultimatum is clear…democracy or majoritarianism.” As the BJP worryingly pursue their nationalist agenda and crack down on peaceful protests with terrifying force, Indian democracy depends on its people standing up courageously. The Punjabi farmers are fighting for more than just their future and industry, but for the future of their country as they know it.

Northern Neglect: COVID-19 Restrictions and the North-South Divide

Rachel Rees
-
0
Northern Neglect: COVID-19 Restrictions and the North-South Divide

With the chaos and double standards of local lockdowns, the government has failed the North.

On the 16th of December, London and the South East entered Tier 3, and then, the newly created Tier 4 soon after. Public figures ranging from London Mayor Sadiq Khan to footballer and sports commentator Gary Lineker lamented the socioeconomic implications of the increased restrictions for London and surrounding areas- but for onlookers in the North, this is nothing new. 

Since the first local lockdown in Leicester in June, the highest restrictions have been consistently concentrated in the North and in the Midlands. Incredibly, now is the first time since July – 5 months ago – that certain northern areas have not been subject to the harshest set of restrictions, compared to the rest of the nation. Throughout, government intervention in the North has been defined by merciless inflexibility and an unwillingness to provide communication, financial support, or resources, accompanied by a heavy dose of double standards.

The government has consistently displayed an overreliance on harsh, restrictive measures for the North, in a clear disparity with its treatment of the South. Most recently, London’s Tier 2 status after emerging from national lockdown on 2 December came under fire: in the week leading up to the end of lockdown, London’s coronavirus infection rates were 174.1/100,000, higher than Middlesbrough (170), Manchester (166), Nottingham (152), Leeds (150), and Newcastle upon Tyne (128) , all of which were placed in Tier 3. Below-average infection rates in large parts of the North East and Greater Manchester throughout early December exacerbated this controversy, with Andy Burnham, Labour Mayor of Greater Manchester, tweeting that it was “hard not to conclude” that “when cases rise in the North, the North goes under restrictions”, but “when cases rise in London and the South East, everyone stays under restrictions”.

Inadequate communication further demonstrated government disregard for the North. On the 31st of July, a ban on all indoor socialising affecting almost 5 million people across the North was announced at 21:15, less than 3 hours before the measures came into effect and the night before Eid al-Adha festivities were due to take place. For Health Secretary Matt Hancock, blame fell on those “not abiding to social distancing”, while the Conservative MP Craig Whittaker targeted the Muslim population that now found itself bearing the brunt of the restrictions. Hartlepool and Middlesbrough councils were informed about new October local lockdowns only five minutes before press announcements, and Nick Forbes, leader of Newcastle City Council, condemned the consistent failure to communicate and consult with local authorities. Later that same month, it was in the middle of a press conference that Andy Burnham found out about Greater Manchester’s £22 million Tier 3 test-and-trace funding, a figure that came to £8 per person, prompting his desperate, blunt response: “It’s brutal, to be honest”.

Manchester’s mistreatment is just one example of the consistent failure to provide adequate financial support or resources for Northern areas affected by restrictions. It was only after London’s entry into Tier 2 in October that Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak announced support for UK businesses affected by restrictions, just days after Manchester’s requested £65 million support package was refused and following months of restrictions for some areas, prompting criticism of Northern neglect from Labour figures including Burnham and Shadow Chancellor Anneliese Dodds. Furthermore, mass testing in schools was offered to London (then in Tier 2) and the South East in early December, but not immediately to Northern Tier 3 regions, many of which had already raised concerns about schools with the government. When Hull saw an infection rate of 770/100,000 and 3 in 10 students off school in mid-November, requests from city officials, headteachers and NHS bosses were met with silence. Similarly, Kate Hollern, Labour MP for Blackburn, tweeted that Lancashire officials had raised concerns about schools “for weeks”, and yet “this level of support was never offered to us” – proof that “the government is treating the North as second class citizens”.

In some Westminster circles, there seems to be a mentality that the North – that far-off land of greyness and poverty – deserves it, with the 2019 Tory advance into former Northern Labour heartlands perceived as a free pass for the government to do whatever they want. In Parliament, Chi Onwurah, Labour MP for Newcastle Central, raised concerns with Michael Gove about the combination of Brexit and coronavirus restrictions, accusing the government of “totally letting down small businesses in the North East and across the country”. Gove’s reply: “The north-east is Tory”; a bold claim for a party that holds 10 North East seats to Labour’s 19, and a response that Onwurah condemned as “arrogant and complacent”.

Such arrogance and complacency define Conservative attitudes to the North. They may have made deep inroads into the North in December 2019, but their government shows nothing but contempt and disregard for their newfound constituents, an attitude that can only alienate Northern voters and MPs, as the newly-formed Northern Research Group of red-wall Tory MPs warned in October. Labour has an opportunity to not only regain seats but also make real changes, as the regionalised trauma of local lockdowns and the popularity of regional figures like Burnham has made the case for more devolved local government. This is a policy Labour can -and should– get behind, with Labour mayors currently holding all the Northern combined authority mayor positions: Greater Manchester (Burnham), North of Tyne (Jamie Driscoll), Sheffield City Region (Dan Jarvis) and Liverpool City Region (Steve Rotheram). As Burnham notes, in Westminster “decisions are too far from the ground”, and instead, “we need that strong voice at the regional level”. This is the way to ensure competent and effective regional policy, without double standards or negligence.

These double standards and negligence are nothing new, but are simply more prominent under COVID-19 policies. Under the Conservative-led austerity of the 2010s, the average Northern council saw local government cuts of 34% compared with 23% for the South, while the five areas with the largest cuts were all in the North: Barnsley (40%), Liverpool (32%), Doncaster (31%), Wakefield (30%), and Blackburn (27%). This is hugely relevant to the COVID-19 pandemic: a report by the Northern Health Science Alliance drew a direct correlation between the region’s vulnerability to COVID-19 and austerity and its exacerbation of Northern economic deprivation, calculating the Northern death rate during the first peak (March to July 2020) as 57.7/100,000 higher than in the rest of the country, and echoing the Guardian’s identification of the North’s “health crisis” in February 2020. In COVID-19 policy and beyond, the government continues to view the North as expendable, both politically and economically, putting lives and communities at stake.

Editorial: Russell Group Student Newspapers for No-Detriment Policy

Russell Group University Newspapers
-
0
Editorial: Russell Group Student Newspapers for No-Detriment Policy

As the editors of Russell Group student newspapers, we are writing collectively to request a reversal of the Russell Group’s statement, 7 January 2020, ‘on ensuring fair assessment and protecting the integrity of degrees.’

As editors, not only are we students or recent students ourselves but we are also in constant contact with the students at our respective universities, as part of the function of our extracurricular roles. Apart from sharing in their collective experiences, we have a unique insight into their attitudes, viewpoints and beliefs. We speak and listen to them every day – and every day since the beginning of this academic year, we have heard students calling for more understanding, cooperation and empathy from university management. 

The statement shared by the Russell Group on 7 January showed the inconsistencies between what they and we understand to be adequate teaching. Whilst we enormously appreciate the hard work of teaching staff under these challenging circumstances and understand the complications ‘blended learning’ has presented, students have repeatedly said they have not been adequately supported throughout this pandemic. This is by no means to disregard the tremendous efforts of university staff, but it is simply a consequence of the realities of a year like none other in living memory. 

The lack of a ‘no detriment’ or ‘safety net’ policy has been a miscalculation by the Russell Group. Students across the UK have been left feeling abandoned by both the government, devolved administrations and universities themselves. 

As the editors of 28 student papers, we pick up and record the views of our students on a regular basis. What many are telling us, as a result of personal and shared difficulties, is that they do require the support a clearer ‘no detriment’ policy would deliver.

We object to the assumption made by the Russell Group that ‘emergency measures’ are no longer ‘necessary’ or ‘appropriate’. We are living through what are undeniably unprecedented times – this is a global emergency. The Prime Minister has labelled these weeks of the third lockdown as the critical point in the UK’s fight against the pandemic – death tolls are high, hospitals have reached capacity, we are still just in the early days of administering vaccines. Students, locked down in various levels of economic and social stability across the nation, are facing some of the most important exams we have sat in our lives to date – under some of the most difficult circumstances many will have faced. International students, too, have been working all term from various time zones around the globe, detached from the support of their student communities.

If anything, this point in the pandemic is perhaps the most urgent. We are now facing a mental health crisis amongst young people. Figures by WONKHE and Trendence have shown that more students feel lonely and isolated on a daily basis as a result of the pandemic. Additionally, surveys of undergraduates by various higher education policy advisers have found that over 50 per cent of students say their mental health has significantly deteriorated during the course of the pandemic. 

Students are attempting to sit assessments with a lack of resources, varying internet connections and mixed home environments. There are students without desks, who share bedrooms with siblings, who have caring responsibilities when they’re at home. Across the country, there are students from wide and varied backgrounds who are struggling to study for their final year assessments, many also affected by illness and bereavement owing to COVID-19. Students from lower income families as well as estranged students are disproportionately affected in their learning experiences this year and less able to receive the traditional means of support. They do not deserve to be dismissed.  

Yet, no one from the Russell Group denied the emergency of the situation when metal fences were erected around halls at Manchester. Universities even went as far as to declare their own local emergencies by locking down individual residences during outbreaks amongst first years. There was no denial of ‘emergency’ when students were being blamed in the media for spikes in national COVID-19 cases. 

A-level and GCSE exams have been adjusted to as if this were an emergency – so why aren’t the Russell Group responding in the same way for university students?

It should also be noted the UK government have voided themselves of much of the responsibility for the problems students face. On January 15, the Minister of State for Universities Michelle Donelan tweeted that ‘if universities want to continue charging full fees, they are expected to maintain the quality, quantity and accessibility of tuition’. A government who demands this from its universities should put support systems in place to enable it.  

You have explained to our respective Student Unions that it is more appropriate for universities to provide ‘a range of policies and tools’ to ensure fair assessment for students. Whilst we agree some universities will need to adapt their policy on an individual basis, the Russell Group’s collective position against ‘no detriment’ or ‘safety net’ policy does not match the reality of what many students have faced, and are continuing to face, this year.

In principle, a ‘no detriment’ or ‘safety net’ policy should ensure a student’s grade is not worsened as a result of the pandemic. Currently, many of your universities’ mitigatory policies amount to simply offering more time for assessments. Frankly, a matter of extra days or a week is not sufficient for the challenges that we have outlined above, which students are facing in real time.

We understand that an algorithmic approach is not entirely viable due to the lack of benchmark data for many students at this stage of the 2020/21 academic year – that’s a mathematical given. But it is by no means impossible to support an alternative ‘no detriment’ policy built for the circumstances. The University of York, for instance, is implementing a comprehensive policy, attempting to take into account the unique challenges posed by this pandemic, as opposed to reshuffling and extending existing policies. 

By readjusting the weightings of each year towards a student’s overall degree and choosing the better of the two for penultimate- and final-year undergraduates, as well as allowing first-years to re-sit up to 90 failed credits in exams, the University of York have worked to try and introduce an appropriate and fair policy. Postgraduates, who should not be forgotten in any such policy, have also been offered an assured ‘safety net’. Overall, it is certainly not perfect but it at least strives to fulfill on the principle of ‘no detriment’, allowing students to simply focus on their studies, with some confidence they will not be impacted by COVID-19, whilst preserving the value of their degrees to employers. 

We urge all Russell Group universities to introduce similarly comprehensive policies.

Whilst we understand that every subject, university and student is different, showing the understanding and empathy to their students embodied in York’s approach should be a basic requirement.

Presently, there are a small number of universities, such as Cardiff, that have recently implemented similar policies. Yet their commitment to this editorial is on the basis that students from all Russell Group universities should have the same level of assurance.

Overall, many students will of course respect and largely agree with your desire to maintain degree standards comparative to other years and to ensure, as you say, that they still ‘command the confidence of employers and professional bodies’. However, where other aspects of society have shifted or seen unprecedented measures introduced over the course of the last year, we believe a reweighting or rescaling of degrees is certainly possible. The students we write for and hear from daily are not asking for a policy that allows them to stop working or learning, but one that simply acknowledges the reality of the pandemic and its wide-ranging impact.

Ultimately, you claim you want to uphold the integrity of our degrees. Yet a university’s first responsibility is to its students and acting with integrity ought to mean upholding this responsibility. Many students across the country have not received the ‘blended’ or ‘hybrid’ learning experience they were promised; many are now separated from their campuses, with its facilities and libraries, due to a third national lockdown brought about largely by an unforeseen variant; many are facing personal, long-term hardship as a result of the virus, and/or extreme difficulties at home.

The integrity of a degree, too – students would hope – should encompass a focus on the opportunity to learn and study as well as a focus on rankings and outcomes. The integrity of university institutions should entail safeguarding the mental wellbeing of its students. Under the current plans laid out by most Russell Group universities, students are reporting to us loudly that neither of these are currently in line.

Students have not been quiet about their concerns. With exams fast approaching, and some already underway, now is the time for Russell Groups universities to act compassionately and responsibly.

What was Pepe doing at the Capitol?

Biba Jones
-
0
What was Pepe doing at the Capitol?

CW: hate speech (antisemitism)

The giddy aggression of the mob that violently stormed the Capitol building in Washington, USA on the 6th of January was palpable through a TV screen. As the ‘domestic terrorists’ scrambled up walls, smashed windows and stole the U.S. Speaker of the House’s lectern, they no doubt felt a divine power, a hate-driven high, but for many of the more radical participants the excitement also came from being part of an internet community materialising into a real life mob. As CNN correspondent Elle Reeves said, “When this huge swarm of people who’ve been active online finally get to meet each other in person… there’s this thrill of it and it’s very high energy”. 

“[It is] hard to overstate how online this mob is,” read one tweet responding to the events on the 6th. The author, New York Times technology columnist Kevin Roose, attached an image of a mob-goer in a Pepe the Frog mask, its bulbous green shape standing out in a sea of red MAGA caps and cameras. Pepe, a cartoon frog that first appeared in 2005, has now become a mascot of the far-right online (against the wishes of its creator), proliferating in memes on platforms such as 4chan, 8chan and reddit. Where is the line between viral jokes, threats, symbolic violence and real-life violence? And how did memes come to be used to spread insidious underlying messages and hate speech?

The Anti-Defamation League describes ‘alt-right’ as a group “who regard mainstream or traditional conservatives as weak and impotent, largely because they do not adequately support white racial interests, or are not adequately racist or antisemitic”. Built on anger and fueled with prejudice, the potency of hatred in alt-right ideologies makes it an exhausting world to research. Online, the cultural identities of various neo-fascist, neo-Nazi, xenophobic or chauvinist groups merge, change and are reified in insular internet communities. Because of the nature of these communities and of changing alt-right internet lexicons, identities, symbols and platforms, it can become difficult to distinguish between ultra conservative and ‘alt-right’ ideology. 

The spread of alt-right ideologies has been massively galvanised by the nature of modern communication platforms. From the early 2000s far-right communities have proliferated on message boards like 4chan and 8chan, anonymous sites on which bigotry can be nameless, faceless, and often consequence-free. Like-minded political extremists form communities that either construct or reinforce group identities. Dr Julia R. DeCook describes the Proud Boys, a far-right neo-fascist male-only organisation, as “distinct from other neo-conservative movements because of their heavy strategic use of social media” both for recruitment and identity reinforcement. It is certainly significant that the Proud Boys founder Gavin McInnes, the co-Founder of Vice magazine, has significant expertise in mass communication techniques. Unfortunately, this alt-right pull is coming from all directions. Though we may think that insidious ideologies such as white supremacy and antisemitism are confined to the dark enclaves of the internet, the far-right have been active on all mainstream media fronts, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and more recently TikTok. Sometimes, Nazi propaganda is only a hashtag away. 

The recruitment technique is simple, and targeted particularly at young ‘outsiders’ – online communities are designed to provide them with an identity, a community and a purpose. Gil Noam, an associate professor of psychology at Harvard Medical School and McLean Hospital, argues that extremist recruiters certainly understand that a child at this age [between 11 and 15] is more likely to respond to the pull of community and a sense of purpose, even if they don’t readily identify with a group’s core message. With multiple content formats, such as text, video and audio, the internet has become the most user-friendly political medium for young people. Online platforms have the potential to mould a young person’s understanding of the world, as Heidi Beirich of the Southern Poverty Law Centre said, “Tiktok panders to children”. Innocent content and propaganda are often indistinguishable to many young people, particularly when they are presented in the same online environment. “They see cool videos, then they see racist things or content calling [white supremacist mass murderer] Dylann Roof a hero, and they’re going to end up going down a really bad path” she adds. An anonymous author writing in the ‘Washingtonian’ magazine alleged that her son, struggling socially, “found people to talk to on Reddit and 4chan”. The author’s son was allegedly radicalised by these forums at the age of 13, and that he was so active on his favourite SubReddit that the other group leaders, unaware of his age, appointed him a moderator. All over the alt-right online community ages mix, and so does truth and invented reality. 

One of the adult Trump supporters outside the Capitol on the 6th of January was wearing a jumper depicting Biden as a postman working for ‘FraudEx’ that had been allegedly designed by a high-school student called ‘Shaker’ who later gloated about this on his popular TikTok account, which had 86.3K followers at the time of writing this article. On Instagram, ultra-conservative accounts with thousands of followers are run by Americans in their early or mid teens, who make memes about the ‘fraudulent’ election or anti-feminism. While these accounts have no explicit neo-Nazi content, you can’t help but wonder if these individuals would have such radical viewpoints at such a young age had it not been for their exposure to radical politics online, and the momentum they get from their thousands of supporters. It is easy to see how such ultra-conservatism at such a young age might be a stepping stone to a more radical ideology and to violence. 

It is also important to consider how these websites function. Personalisation is highly significant; algorithms help to land every user in an echo chamber, a bubbled experience making online communities firmly insular. As a result of this, the alt-right is able to create its own unquestioned reality, built from memes, propaganda and opinions, questioned only by some supposed ‘trolls’ in the comments, quickly dismissed as ‘liberals’ or ‘normies’, or not present at all on private accounts and encrypted “Telegram” messages. Thus Proud Boys and other extremist groups represent reality and current affairs on their own terms, and the line between truth and invention is completely blurred. Arguably, the rioters at the Capitol represent a group driven to violence by invented, fabricated realities – in this case the claims of ‘fraud’, with no real evidence found thus far, asserted by Donald Trump and disseminated online by republicans and the alt-right. Despite this example involving more moderate republicans and not just the alt-right, Elle Reeves argues that there are many more ‘regular people’ now who believe extreme false realities, and that as a culture we have not grappled “with the way social media is a brainwashing machine.”.

Not only is it brainwashing, it is addictive. This is potentially the first time in history that people, especially young people, are becoming addicted to their source of propaganda. Throughout history propaganda has been administered in nefarious and subtle ways, through movies, in children’s textbooks, in advertising, but never before have we been so unable to peel ourselves away from it. Joen Koestsier’s description of TikTok in Forbes as ‘digital crack cocaine’ becomes particularly terrifying when you start to consider the political radicalisation that happens on these platforms, and the bitesize, digestible propaganda they offer users. 

It should be said that all the mainstream social media sites monitor and censor their platforms, and frequently take down content or block accounts. But with a changing lexicon, and temporary or private posts, no site can be Nazi-free. Or not successfully so far. 

In the context of the alt-right’s world view, its hatred, its anger and its violence, it is at first difficult to see how memes fit in. However, the alt-right have harnessed memes and humour as one of the most powerful tools of reinforcing their own identity and converting others. So there are definitely Proud Boys laughing online, and they’re laughing together. Dr Julia R. DeCook has described memes as serving “as a way of establishing cultural capital”. Symbols and images such as Pepe are shared and reused until an alt-right language is formed, and it is changing all the time. By the time ‘normies’ catch on, new terms and symbols have been rolled out. Alt-right memes strengthen their own sense of ‘in-groups’. Humour blurs the line between truth and reality, giving racist, sexist and ultranationalists a defence: when Proud Boys circulate ‘hunting permits’ for killing Anitifa members (the left-wing anti-fascist and anti-racist group), they were just a bit of ‘fun’. 

The Style Guide for the Daily Stormer (a neo-nazi alt-right blog) that was leaked a few years ago offers a painful insight into how the alt-right intentionally blur humour and hate speech online. Indeed, this strategy is presented with ironic clarity. The document instructs that ‘the unindoctrinated should not be able to tell if we are joking or not,’ before adding ‘this is obviously a ploy.’ With humour used as a means to soften indoctrination, the Daily Stormer sets out to pack its message “inside of existing cultural memes and humor” which “can be viewed as a delivery method. Something like adding cherry flavor to children’s medicine.” The reference to administering medicine to children is particularly chilling, and presents the insidiously manipulative force of the alt-right, moulding what they believe to be malleable, vulnerable minds. 

In these environments users are engulfed by alt-right memes and alt-right commentators, leading them to become both desensitised and indoctrinated. Worst still, humour comes with the underlying suggestion that the implied message is a given, lending alt-right prejudices a semblance of credibility. Again the Daily Stromer epitomises this where it says “generally, when using racial slurs, it should come across as half-joking – like a racist joke that everyone laughs at because it’s true”. ‘Poe’s law’, an adage of internet culture, states that without a clear indicator of the author’s intent, it is impossible to distinguish between real expressions of extremism and satirical expressions of extremism. Alt-right groups thus alternate between humour and hate speech, and between ‘symbolic’ violence, and real violence, ultimately blurring the line between the two. 

Memes also work on a sliding scale, coaxing viewers slowly into an ideology that they might never have previously identified with. As the Style Guide explains “The reader is at first drawn in by curiosity or the naughty humor, and is slowly awakened to reality by repeatedly reading the same points.” Initially, a young person might be smirking about questionable or ‘politically incorrect’ content, brushed off as ‘harmless satire,’ but are eventually guided into an internet space in which islamophobia, misogyny or antisemitism is explicit. The viewer is gradually desensitised, and slowly radicalised. 

What the storming of the Capitol has reminded us is that the seeds of violence, sown by the alt-right throughout the internet, do not stay embedded harmlessly in the soil. The Washington Post has described how the Capitol siege was planned online, with conversations in far-right forums explicitly discussing how to storm the building, handcuff lawmakers with zip ties and disrupt the certification of Joe Biden’s election. More subtle and in many ways more dangerous, memes posted by alt-right individuals have also proved to be a stepping stone to real life violence. A report written by Maura Conway, Ryan Scrivens and Logan Macnair revealed that the man who drove his car into counter-protestors at the Charlottesville ‘Unite the Right’ rally in 2019 had shared two memes on Instagram involving a car driving through protesters, one attaching the line “You have the right to protest, but I’m late for work.” This is truly terrifying content. According to the report, this meme, along with many others, was generated on 4chan and then spread to more mainstream sites, such as Instagram. Thus, this insidious alt-right propaganda works like a parasite, only aided in its spread by the sharing and reposting made effortless by social media machinery.

So what is the answer? It isn’t necessarily censorship. 

Last week, Trump was permanently suspended from Twitter, along with some of his supporters such as Sidney Powell and Michael Flynn. Some QAnon accounts were also among the accounts culled as a response to the storming of the Capitol. Jack Dorsey, Twitter’s CEO justified this decision in a lengthy series of tweets, arguing that “offline harm as a result of online speech is demonstrably real” and that it was a necessary step in order to prevent the president from inciting further violence. The social media company went into great detail in a blog post as to how the President had spread false information and can be seen to have provoked violence prior to and in the aftermath of the Capitol storming. Trump’s Instagram and Facebook accounts have also been suspended indefinitely. 

Unfortunately however, whilst censoring Trump solves an immediate problem of preventing further calls to violence, censorship has never been a permanent solution to the spread of bigotry and hate speech online. Many racist Facebook and Twitter users that are banned from the platforms, such as Faith Goldy or Tim “Baked Alaska” Gionet, simply move to a newer platform. For Goldie and Gionet it was TikTok, for others it was the ‘free speech’ platform Parler. American republican politician Ted Cruz said that Parler “gets what free speech is all about”; it is no surprise that this is one of the sites on which the Capitol rioters planned their attack on the Capitol. Parler CEO John Matze, when interviewed by Kara Swisher in the aftermath of the storming of the Capitol admitted that he doesn’t “necessarily monitor a lot of this stuff. [He] participate[s] and watch[es] Parler just as anyone else does”, with a random ‘community jury’ of users instead having responsibility for monitoring content that likely isn’t too far from their own political ideology. 

Expulsion from mainstream sites simply leads to insular far-right communities migrating to sites around which they can construct thicker walls. Parler jumped to number one on the app store following Trump’s removal from Twitter, and while it has recently been booted off Apple, Google and Amazon, it is ultimately just one alternative. Alt-right communities know the internet well, and will always find a place to congregate. Telegram, dubbed ‘terrorgram’ as well as Gab, Rumble and Newsmax add to the list of alternatives – this cycle has become an arms race. 

On Twitter, in response to Trump’s removal from the site, social media site Gab posted a meme depicting Pepe as a boat in a storm, referencing Noah’s ark. The underlying message was that far-right online communities will prevail in the face of ‘adversity’ and find another vessel. Maybe it will be a new platform created by Donald Trump, or maybe by a teen TikToker online. 

Artwork by Mia Sorenti

1...363364365...2,491Page 364 of 2,491

Support Student Journalism

Cherwell is Oxford’s oldest independent newspaper, established in 1920. We are entirely student-run. By supporting us, you will contribute to keeping our paper in print and online. Every donation makes a difference.

Donate

Explore

Follow us

More

Oxford Student Publications Limited © 2025 - All Rights Reserved | Privacy Policy

Website by James Ashley