{ "article": { "title" : "Cordelia: a Story of Survival", "author" : "Sara Rammal", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/cordelia-story-of-survival", "date" : "2025-02-04 15:32:00 -0500", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/cordelia-3.jpg", "excerpt" : " When war came to my doorstep, I packed my sewing machine and serger, leaving behind my studio, my village, and the life I had built. What I carried with me wasn’t just tools, it was a promise to myself: I would create again.", "content" : " When war came to my doorstep, I packed my sewing machine and serger, leaving behind my studio, my village, and the life I had built. What I carried with me wasn’t just tools, it was a promise to myself: I would create again. My name is Sara Rammal, and I am a twenty-two year old content creator and artist. I grew up in Odaisseh, a small village in South Lebanon, on the border of occupied Palestine. Everything I created was inspired by the environment around me, my village, my culture, and my history.THE PASTGrowing up, I spent my days capturing the beauty of life in the South through photographs. I liked taking photos of myself between flowers, experimenting with props and scenery, but fashion was far from my mind. I didn’t care much about clothes until I turned seventeen.At the time, I worked at a small phone shop. It wasn’t much, but for my teenage self, it was a good way to save money. One day, I decided to transform my wardrobe to something that matched my personality. I didn’t like the fast fashion pieces that were around; I craved timeless pieces, earthy tones, and things that felt like me.While searching the Beiruti shops, I stumbled upon a fabric store. Without hesitation, I spent my entire savings on five large bags of fabric. I had no sewing machine, no skills, and no plan— just the determination to create something of my own. I borrowed my grandmother’s sewing machine and began teaching myself how to sew through YouTube tutorials. Piece by piece, I built my wardrobe, experimenting with patterns and learning the art of design. It took me two years to master my craft. During that time, I discovered a love for fashion design that I never knew existed.I started sharing my creations on Instagram and to my surprise, people loved my designs and some even asked to buy them. I didn’t have the resources to take that step yet— I didn’t feel ready and I lacked the budget for better machines and fabrics.CORDELIAAt ninteen, I attended an arts and crafts class offered by an NGO in Nabatiyeh, Lebanon. At first, I thought it was just another class, but as I listened to the stories of others turning their passions into businesses, something clicked. I realized I already had the skills, the creativity, and even the clients. All I needed was the confidence and resources to start.When I told the class that I had made the outfit I was wearing—a sage green corset over an angelic white shirt— they were stunned. I began developing a brand inspired by my love for the “cottage core” aesthetic.I named my brand Cordelia, after a fictional character from my favorite series, Anne with an E. Anne used to dress up and pretend to be Princess Cordelia to escape her struggles, finding solace in the power of imagination. For me, fashion served the same purpose; it allowed me to escape, to dream, to feel free.I won that class’ competition in first place. And after getting the funding I needed, Cordelia was born. I created made-to-order dresses and shirts—each piece carrying a part of my soul. People were willing to wait months for my creations, and I poured my heart into every stitch.THE WAR ON SOUTHJust as I began to see my dreams take flight, life in Lebanon reminded me of how quickly it can unravel. In October 2023, things changed.War started, and I was watching and hearing missiles pass by above my home. The life I had carefully built started tearing apart. For my safety and education, I moved to Beirut, leaving behind my home, my studio, and most of my supplies. I could bring only one sewing machine, a serger, and some fabrics. I was preparing for a tote bag collection but I had to leave everything behind.Instead of sharing aesthetic posts on Instagram, my page became a platform to document the war. I posted in English, hoping to raise awareness about what was happening in both my country and in Gaza as well.In December, bombs struck near the place my parents were seeking shelter. For the first time since the beginning of the war, they left our village and joined me in Beirut.I stopped sewing entirely. I couldn’t bring myself to create when everything felt so uncertain. I didn’t have the space nor my equipment. I shifted my focus to media work, learning new skills and surviving day by day. My wardrobe of skirts and dresses was replaced with survival mode clothing: anything that I could evacuate in should something happen. It was a bonus if it was something I could both sleep and go out in.THE WAR ON LEBANONFor 66 days, Israel bombed every part of this country. During the full scale war on Lebanon, I was living in survival mode. We escaped the southern suburbs of Beirut and went to a house in Mount Lebanon with all my extended family. During that time, I filmed, volunteered, and interviewed people, documenting the human impact of war. I even reached out to people for jobs to keep myself busy and avoid the reality of things. When a ceasefire was announced, we went back to Beirut. We couldn’t go back to my village, 80% of the houses in Odaisseh were bombed, trees were burned, and Israeli forces are still on my land.THE PRESENTIf war taught me anything it’s that I don’t have to wait for things to be perfect. Life doesn’t pause for anyone, and it’s important to choose your dreams despite the uncertainty.I found a small apartment in Beirut, a space that I’m renovating to become both my own home and a studio for Cordelia. It will be a place to sew, to dream, and to create. I don’t have all the funds or resources I need yet, but I’m determined to make it work.Like Anne, I created Cordelia as a way to dream beyond my struggles. Today, it’s not just an escape— it’s my resistance— a stitch of hope in a fractured world. Through my brand, I want to bring beauty into the world, not just for myself, but for others who need it too. I’m designing again, planning collections, and imagining a future where Cordelia reaches people across the globe.THE FUTUREThe scars of war will always remain, but so will my passion. I’ve lost loved ones, friends, and places that meant the world to me. My village may never be the same, but I carry its strength within me.Cordelia is more than a brand, it has become a symbol of survival, of creativity in the face of destruction, and the belief that beauty can bloom even in the harshest conditions.This is not just my story. It’s the story of countless artists who refuse to let war define them. And as I sew the first stitch in my new studio, I know this is only the beginning." } , "relatedposts": [ { "title" : "Censorship Didn’t Start With Kimmel:: Why Independent Media Is Our Biggest Asset", "author" : "Céline Semaan", "category" : "", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/censorship-didnt-start-with-kimmel-why-independent-media-is-our-biggest-asset", "date" : "2025-09-19 13:55:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Cover_Independent_Media.jpg", "excerpt" : "Jimmy Kimmel is off the air. ABC suspended Jimmy Kimmel Live! after his monologue criticizing the political reaction to Charlie Kirk’s killing. The network, under pressure from conservative outrage, FCC threats, and nervous affiliates, caved. Suddenly, liberal commentators are outraged. Suddenly, people who considered themselves guardians of democracy are crying censorship. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: their tears are 700 days too late.", "content" : "Jimmy Kimmel is off the air. ABC suspended Jimmy Kimmel Live! after his monologue criticizing the political reaction to Charlie Kirk’s killing. The network, under pressure from conservative outrage, FCC threats, and nervous affiliates, caved. Suddenly, liberal commentators are outraged. Suddenly, people who considered themselves guardians of democracy are crying censorship. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: their tears are 700 days too late.The silencing of voices did not begin with Kimmel. It has been happening all along, in classrooms where burning books was occurring under a democratic leadership, in newsrooms, in publishing houses, in theaters and comedy clubs. It has been happening quietly, steadily, almost imperceptibly—until the silence was too loud to ignore. Karen Attiah, one of the most important voices at The Washington Post, was recently fired. Writers have lost contracts. My own book was shelved by my publisher and literary agents for political reasons. Academics have been dismissed from universities, and journalists pushed out of their jobs. Each case is framed as an exception, but together they reveal a pattern: dissent is increasingly treated as a liability, not a public necessity.Nothing of this is an isolated punishment of individuals but it is a structural effort to narrow the bounds of what can be said. It is McCarthyism repackaged for a new century, only this time its reach extends beyond the Cold War paranoia of communism into the broader realm of political dissent. What we are witnessing is censorship as part of a larger effort to reshaping of the public sphere itself.The Illusion of Democratic ProtectionMany still cling to the idea that democracy, by its very nature, will protect us. That the courts will intervene, that the institutions will hold, that the First Amendment will somehow enforce itself. But democracy is not self-executing. Rights written on paper mean nothing if the institutions that carry them — universities, newsrooms, publishing houses, even late-night television — are captured or hollowed out.The so-called “marketplace of ideas” is an economy owned by corporations, hedge funds, and media conglomerates. What we read, what we watch, what we hear is already shaped by the profit motive and the political pressures of advertisers and owners. When Disney owns the network, when billionaires own the newspapers, when Silicon Valley decides who gets amplified and who gets shadow-banned, it is naïve to think the First Amendment alone will safeguard us. Democracy does not protect its people when its most basic infrastructure has already been sold off.The Long ErosionWhat happened to Kimmel is not shocking; it is predictable. The erosion of free expression has been slow, but steady. It shows up in grant applications denied for being “too political.” In canceled contracts and disappearing op-eds and governmental information wiped out of governmental websites. In comedians who decide not to say something, not because they don’t believe it, but because they know the cost of saying it. In students who fear speaking out, lest it follow them for life. In social media platforms quietly throttling reach under vague “community guidelines.”For over 700 days, genocide has been live-broadcast to the world, and yet the people who speak most clearly about it have been punished — whether by suspension, firing, or erasure. It’s by design, silence is the product of systems working exactly as designed. Even when Arab voices work tirelessly behind the scenes, they are surely to be erased on the world stages. Most convenient to have their message co-opted by palatable influencers or celebrities, who take up space with little critical thinking. This too is a form of censorship.The Role of Independent MediaThis is why independent media is not a luxury. It is a necessity. The survival of democracy depends not on the myth of neutrality in corporate media but on the ability of independent voices to hold power accountable. Independent outlets can say what others cannot, not because they are more radical, but because they are less beholden to greed and power. They exist outside the corridors of corporate profit and political pressure.Independent media tells the stories that otherwise disappear — the stories of people on the margins, the stories of communities under siege, the stories that advertisers would rather you didn’t hear. Acting both as a living archive and the public’s voice, it does more than just document: it builds the collective resilience we need to withstand propaganda. In a landscape flooded with misinformation, independent outlets give people the tools to see through the fog. They are not divisive; they are connective. They create solidarity across differences, reminding us that liberation is never zero-sum.The Structure of SuppressionWhen we talk about censorship, it’s tempting to imagine it as a blunt act: a book banned, a show canceled, a journalist jailed. But most censorship is quieter, structural, and bureaucratic. It looks like funding cuts that suffocate small outlets. It looks like corporate consolidations that shrink the diversity of voices. It looks like algorithms that bury dissent under oceans of entertainment. It looks like lawsuits, defamation threats, and regulatory red tape designed to exhaust those who dare to challenge power.These forms of suppression rarely make headlines, but they are precisely how freedom dies: not with a bang, but with a spreadsheet.Building Cultural InfrastructureIf we are to survive this moment and outlive fascism, we must recognize independent media as cultural infrastructure. It is as essential to democracy as clean water is to life. Without it, we cannot breathe politically. Without it, we cannot resist.This requires resources — not just clicks, likes, or shares, but real investment and independent platforms that can survive Silicon Valley’s censorships. Subscriptions and memberships from everyday people matter, but so does the responsibility of philanthropists and foundations. For too long, they have hidden behind the veil of “neutrality,” funding depoliticized projects while democracy itself collapses. To defend free expression requires courage — the courage to support media that tells uncomfortable truths.Independent media is not disposable content. It is the bedrock of collective survival. And if we allow it to be starved, silenced, or crushed under the weight of corporate monopolies, then we should not be surprised when democracy fails to save us.The CrossroadsWe are at a crossroads. Either we continue to wring our hands as one voice after another is silenced, or we begin to treat the media as the public good it has always been. Either we accept the narrowing of what can be said, or we invest in the broad chorus of voices that democracy requires.Censorship did not begin with Jimmy Kimmel, and it will not end with him. But it can end with us, if we choose to build and defend the cultural infrastructure that outlasts fascism.The choice is simple, but urgent: fund the voices that tell the truth — or watch them disappear.Not tomorrow. Not when it’s convenient. Not when the damage is already done.Now. Thank you for being a member. Invite your peers.Write for EIP." } , { "title" : "From Sabra & Shatila to Gaza: The UN’s Century of Failure and the Rise of Alternatives", "author" : "Collis Browne", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/from-sabra-and-shatila-to-gaza", "date" : "2025-09-16 10:47:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2025_9_16_UN_Genocide_1.jpg", "excerpt" : "On the 43rd anniversary of the massacres committed under Israeli authority at Sabra and Shatila camps in Beirut in 1982, a United Nations Commission Of Inquiry has concluded, as would any rational observer, that Israel has been committing genocide in Gaza since October 2023.", "content" : "On the 43rd anniversary of the massacres committed under Israeli authority at Sabra and Shatila camps in Beirut in 1982, a United Nations Commission Of Inquiry has concluded, as would any rational observer, that Israel has been committing genocide in Gaza since October 2023.This is not news. It could, however, be a turning point, . The UN’s declaration cracks open the conservative West’s long-standing wall of denial about the genocidal intentions and actions of the U.S.–Israel military machine. What happens next matters.A Century of Genocidal IntentFor those who have been watching Palestine with clarity long before 2023, this genocide is not an aberration — it is the project itself. From its inception, every major Zionist leader and Israeli politician has openly articulated the goal of erasing the Indigenous people of Palestine, whether through forced expulsion or mass murder.More than a hundred years of speeches, policies, and massacres testify to this intent. The so-called “War on Gaza” is simply the most visible and livestreamed stage of an ongoing colonial project.The UN’s Empty WordsIs this UN report different? The UN has made declarative statements for decades with no action or enforcement. In 1975, the UN declared Zionism is racism, citing the “unholy alliance” between apartheid South Africa and Israel. Yet Zionists continued to enjoy privileged status across Western institutions. Since 1967, the UN has passed resolution after resolution denouncing illegal Israeli settlements on stolen Palestinian land. Still, the theft continues unchecked. In December 2022, the UN General Assembly demanded Israel end its “unlawful presence” in the Occupied Territories within one year. That deadline expires this week, September 18, 2025. Israel has ignored it completely, as expected — with no consequences. Declarations without enforcement are not justice. They are fig leaves for impunity.What Good Is the UN?The Geneva Convention obliges all states to intervene to stop and punish genocide. Yet no country has deployed forces to resist Israel’s military slaughter in Gaza. No sanctions. No accountability.If the UN cannot stop one of its own member states from carrying out genocide in full public view — in “4K” as the world watches live — then what is the UN for?The Rise of AlternativesThe cracks are widening. The government of China has announced a new Global Governance initiative, already backed by dozens of countries. Without illusions about its motivations, the concept paper at least addresses three of the UN’s structural failures: Underrepresentation of the Global South — redressing centuries of colonial imbalance. Erosion of authoritativeness — restoring the credibility of international law. Urgent need for effectiveness — accelerating stalled progress on global commitments like the UN’s 2030 Agenda. The question is not whether the UN will reform. It is whether it can survive its own irrelevance.Toward a New Global OrderFrom Sabra and Shatila to Gaza, the UN has failed to prevent — or even meaningfully resist — genocide. Its reports and resolutions pile up, while the graves in Palestine multiply.If the international body tasked with “peace and security” cannot act against the most televised genocide in history, then the world has to ask: do we need a new United Nations? Or do we need to build something entirely different — a system of global governance that serves the people, not the powerful?" } , { "title" : "France in Revolt: Debt, Uranium, and the Costs of Macron-ism", "author" : "EIP Editors", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/france-in-revolt", "date" : "2025-09-14 22:39:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Bloquons-Tout.jpg", "excerpt" : "France is burning again—not only on the streets of Paris but in the brittle foundations of its political economy. What began as a mass revolt against austerity and public-service cuts has become a national convulsion: roads blocked, train stations occupied, workplaces shut down under the call to “Bloquons Tout” (Let’s Block Everything). The collapse of François Bayrou’s government is only the latest symptom. At the root of the crisis is a political project: Macronism—the steady, decade-long tilt toward pro-business reforms, tax cuts for the wealthy, and austerity by default—that has hollowed out public revenue and narrowed citizens’ options.", "content" : "France is burning again—not only on the streets of Paris but in the brittle foundations of its political economy. What began as a mass revolt against austerity and public-service cuts has become a national convulsion: roads blocked, train stations occupied, workplaces shut down under the call to “Bloquons Tout” (Let’s Block Everything). The collapse of François Bayrou’s government is only the latest symptom. At the root of the crisis is a political project: Macronism—the steady, decade-long tilt toward pro-business reforms, tax cuts for the wealthy, and austerity by default—that has hollowed out public revenue and narrowed citizens’ options.Tax Cuts, Corporate Giveaways, and Rising DebtSince Emmanuel Macron took office in 2017, his administration rolled out a suite of pro-market reforms: the abolition of the broad wealth tax (ISF), replaced by a narrower property wealth tax (IFI); a sustained reduction of the corporate tax rate to about 25%; and a raft of tax measures framed as competitiveness fixes for companies and investors. Economists now estimate that Macron’s tax cuts account for a significant share of France’s rising public debt; his reforms helped widen deficits even before pandemic and energy-shock spending pushed them higher. Today France’s public debt sits near 113–114% of GDP, and ratings agencies and markets are watching closely. (Le Monde.fr)These policies did not produce the promised boom in broadly shared prosperity. Investment did not surge enough to offset lost revenue, and growth remained sluggish. The political consequence was predictable: when the state has less to spend, the burden of balancing budgets falls on cuts to pensions, healthcare, and social programs—measures that overwhelmingly hurt working-class and vulnerable communities. (Financial Times)Pension Reform, Social Fracture, and the Limits of ConsentMacron’s government pushed a controversial pension reform—raising the retirement age from 62 to 64—which sparked nationwide strikes and mass protests in 2023. The reform illustrated a defining feature of Macronism: when public consent falters, the state still presses forward with market-oriented restructuring, deepening social fracture and anger. The pension fight didn’t create the crisis so much as expose it. (Al Jazeera)Colonial Hangover: Uranium, Energy, and GeopoliticsFrance’s energy model has long rested on nuclear power—once a source of national pride for its emission-free nature, and geopolitical independence. Behind that story, however, is another: the colonial era’s extraction of uranium in places like Niger, where French companies (notably Orano/former Areva) secured resource access under unequal terms. As Niger reasserted sovereignty over its resources after the 2023 coup and pushed back on French access, the illusion of seamless “energy independence” began to crack. Losing preferential access to Nigerien uranium has widened France’s energy insecurity and amplified the fiscal squeeze: higher energy costs, the need to secure new supply chains, and political pressure to maintain subsidies for households. The politics of extraction are now returning home. (Le Monde.fr)Climate, Austerity, and the Moral EconomyAdd the climate emergency to the mix—record heatwaves, floods, and wildfires—and the picture becomes even more bleak. Infrastructure strain and rising costs of climate adaptation demand public investment, yet the government’s posture has been to trim and reprioritize spending to satisfy markets. In practice, that means the people least responsible for climate harm—low-income communities, migrants, and precarious workers—are asked to pay the price. The result is a moral and political rupture: climate vulnerability plus fiscal austerity equals radicalized grievance. (Financial Times)A Convergence of FailuresThis is why the current uprising cannot be reduced to a single grievance. It is the convergence of multiple failures: Economic: tax policy that favored the wealthy while starving the public purse; rising debt and cuts that fall on the poor. (Financial Times) Colonial: the unraveling of extractive arrangements that once propped up French energy and power. (Le Monde.fr) Ecological: climate shocks that amplify social need even as public services are stripped back. (Financial Times) The revolt has therefore drawn a broad constituency—students, unions, public-sector workers, and neighborhoods long marginalized by austerity. It is not merely a labor dispute; it is a crisis of legitimacy for a model of governance that privatized gains and socialized pain.What Macronism Tells Us About the Global MomentFrance is a cautionary tale for democracies worldwide. When political leaders prioritize tax breaks for capital and cut public goods to placate markets, they borrow political stability against the future. The bill eventually comes due—in rising debt, in weakened social cohesion, and in violent backlash. Where resource dependencies meet neoliberal retrenchment, the risk of social rupture grows.Three Questions for What Comes Next Will the French state return to a redistributive project—taxing wealth, reclaiming revenues, and investing in climate resilience—or double down on austerity? Can movements translate street power into institutional change that addresses colonial legacies (resource sovereignty) as well as domestic inequality? Will climate policy be woven into social policy—so that adaptation and justice go hand in hand—or will they remain separate priorities, deepening vulnerability? France stands at a crossroads: continue a model that funnels benefit to capital while exposing citizens to climate and economic shocks—or imagine a social contract rooted in redistribution, de-colonial resource politics, and ecological justice. The choice will not be made in the Élysée alone. It is being argued in the streets, in workplaces, and across borders where the costs of extraction were first paid.Everything is Political—and in France today, that truth has never been clearer." } ] }