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The Sole of Discontent
A History of Political Shoe-Throwing
Few acts of protest are as universally understood—or as viscerally AND visually satisfying—as the humble shoe throw. The gesture transcends language barriers, cultural divides, and political affiliations, delivering a message as clear as the slap of a flip-flop against bare skin: You are not worthy.
From ancient insults to modern-day rebellions, hurling footwear at the powerful is a tradition as old as civilization itself, rooted in the symbolic degradation of tossing what touches the ground at those who claim to be above it.
The practice traces its origins to the Middle East, where showing the sole of one’s shoe is a grave insult, akin to spitting in someone’s face. In Iraq, the phrase “I will shoe you” is a threat of humiliation. This cultural context turned shoe-throwing ( أحذفك ) into the ultimate act of defiance, a democratic weapon for the disenfranchised: cheap, accessible, and universally relatable. After all, even the poorest protester owns a pair of shoes, and nothing stings like a well-aimed loafer.
The modern era of political shoe-throwing was catapulted into infamy by Muntadhar al- Zaidi, the Iraqi journalist who lobbed his soles at George W. Bush in 2008. But he was far from the first, or the last. Below, the top ten most iconic shoe-throwing incidents, ranked by audacity, impact, and sheer theatrical flair.
1. George W. Bush (2008)

The Mona Lisa of shoe-throws. Iraqi journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi interrupted a press conference in Baghdad to hurl both shoes at Bush, yelling, “This is a farewell kiss from the Iraqi people, you dog!” The shoes missed, but the moment became legend, inspiring memes, merchandise, and a global debate on the ethics of footwear-as-protest. Bush later joked about his dodging skills; al-Zaidi was imprisoned for a year and hailed as a folk hero. A statue of the shoe was briefly raised in the journalist’s hometown of Tikrit, Iraq. However, it was removed faster than it went up due to an order from the governor.
Bonus: in 2009, al-Zaidi experienced a similar incident when a man threw a shoe at him (and missed) at a press conference in Paris.
2. Tony Blair (2010)
Two years after Bush’s close call, his partner in the Iraq War faced a similar fate. An Iraqi student in Dublin launched a shoe at Blair during a book signing, shouting, “This is for the martyrs of Iraq!” Security intercepted it mid-air, but Blair’s smirk only fueled the fury. The thrower, later identified as a dentistry student, faced fines but no regrets.
3. Israeli Ambassador to Sweden (2009)
Pro-Palestinian protesters in Stockholm pelted then-Ambassador Benny Dagan with shoes during a university speech. One hit the podium; none struck flesh. The incident underscored the shoe’s role as a global symbol of resistance, cheaper than a Molotov, safer than a stone, and just as damning.
4. Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao (2009)
At Cambridge University, a protester hurled a shoe at Wen during a speech on human rights, yelling, “This is a scandal!” The shoe missed, Wen quipped, “This is nothing,” and the thrower was tackled by an audience member, proving even shoe-throwing has its class dynamics.
5. Indian Home Minister P. Chidambaram (2010)

A Sikh activist launched a shoe at Chidambaram during a press conference in Delhi, protesting the government’s handling of religious violence. The minister ducked; the shoe hit a camera. The thrower was arrested, but the message stuck: in India, shoes fly across party lines.
6. Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari (2011)
A lawyer in Karachi chucked a shoe at Zardari’s motorcade, enraged by corruption allegations. The shoe hit the car, not the man, but the imagery was potent: a leather- clad indictment of a leader accused of walking all over his people.
7. Turkish PM Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (2014)
A protester in Istanbul whipped off her sneaker and flung it at Erdoğan during a speech, shouting, “Take this for the martyrs!” The shoe missed, but the act—by a woman, in a headscarf—defied stereotypes of passive dissent in conservative circles.
8. Australian Senator Jacqui Lambie (2015)
In a rare Western twist, an anti-Islam protester threw a shoe at Lambie during a rally. She caught it mid-air and threw it back, sparking a surreal game of catch-me-if-you-can. The incident proved even politicians can play the shoe game, if they’ve got reflexes.
9. Syrian President Bashar al-Assad (2013)
A defected soldier lobbed a shoe at Assad’s portrait during a rebel rally, a symbolic strike at the dictator’s omnipresent image. The shoe missed the man but hit the myth, a small victory in a brutal war.
10. Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari (2019)
A protester in Abuja hurled a sandal at Buhari’s convoy, frustrated by economic hardship. The shoe bounced off the bulletproof glass, but the sentiment pierced through: We are stepping on broken dreams.
The shoe remains the great equalizer, a projectile of the people, a slap in the face of power. Whether it’s Bush dodging in Baghdad or Blair ducking in Dublin, each throw carries the weight of history, the rage of the unheard, and the undeniable truth: when leaders fail, soles will fly. As long as injustice walks among us, the shoe will remain the people’s weapon of choice, lightweight, low-cost, and loaded with meaning.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "The Sole of Discontent: A History of Political Shoe-Throwing",
"author" : "Lars Byrresen Petersen",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/the-sole-of-discontent-a-history-of-political-shoe-throwing",
"date" : "2025-07-20 17:35:46 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/iraq-shoe-02-ap-jrl-18050_hpEmbed_5x4_992.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Few acts of protest are as universally understood—or as viscerally AND visually satisfying—as the humble shoe throw. The gesture transcends language barriers, cultural divides, and political affiliations, delivering a message as clear as the slap of a flip-flop against bare skin: You are not worthy.",
"content" : "Few acts of protest are as universally understood—or as viscerally AND visually satisfying—as the humble shoe throw. The gesture transcends language barriers, cultural divides, and political affiliations, delivering a message as clear as the slap of a flip-flop against bare skin: You are not worthy.From ancient insults to modern-day rebellions, hurling footwear at the powerful is a tradition as old as civilization itself, rooted in the symbolic degradation of tossing what touches the ground at those who claim to be above it.The practice traces its origins to the Middle East, where showing the sole of one’s shoe is a grave insult, akin to spitting in someone’s face. In Iraq, the phrase “I will shoe you” is a threat of humiliation. This cultural context turned shoe-throwing ( أحذفك ) into the ultimate act of defiance, a democratic weapon for the disenfranchised: cheap, accessible, and universally relatable. After all, even the poorest protester owns a pair of shoes, and nothing stings like a well-aimed loafer.The modern era of political shoe-throwing was catapulted into infamy by Muntadhar al- Zaidi, the Iraqi journalist who lobbed his soles at George W. Bush in 2008. But he was far from the first, or the last. Below, the top ten most iconic shoe-throwing incidents, ranked by audacity, impact, and sheer theatrical flair.1. George W. Bush (2008)The Mona Lisa of shoe-throws. Iraqi journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi interrupted a press conference in Baghdad to hurl both shoes at Bush, yelling, “This is a farewell kiss from the Iraqi people, you dog!” The shoes missed, but the moment became legend, inspiring memes, merchandise, and a global debate on the ethics of footwear-as-protest. Bush later joked about his dodging skills; al-Zaidi was imprisoned for a year and hailed as a folk hero. A statue of the shoe was briefly raised in the journalist’s hometown of Tikrit, Iraq. However, it was removed faster than it went up due to an order from the governor.Bonus: in 2009, al-Zaidi experienced a similar incident when a man threw a shoe at him (and missed) at a press conference in Paris.2. Tony Blair (2010)Two years after Bush’s close call, his partner in the Iraq War faced a similar fate. An Iraqi student in Dublin launched a shoe at Blair during a book signing, shouting, “This is for the martyrs of Iraq!” Security intercepted it mid-air, but Blair’s smirk only fueled the fury. The thrower, later identified as a dentistry student, faced fines but no regrets.3. Israeli Ambassador to Sweden (2009)Pro-Palestinian protesters in Stockholm pelted then-Ambassador Benny Dagan with shoes during a university speech. One hit the podium; none struck flesh. The incident underscored the shoe’s role as a global symbol of resistance, cheaper than a Molotov, safer than a stone, and just as damning.4. Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao (2009)At Cambridge University, a protester hurled a shoe at Wen during a speech on human rights, yelling, “This is a scandal!” The shoe missed, Wen quipped, “This is nothing,” and the thrower was tackled by an audience member, proving even shoe-throwing has its class dynamics.5. Indian Home Minister P. Chidambaram (2010)A Sikh activist launched a shoe at Chidambaram during a press conference in Delhi, protesting the government’s handling of religious violence. The minister ducked; the shoe hit a camera. The thrower was arrested, but the message stuck: in India, shoes fly across party lines.6. Pakistani President Asif Ali Zardari (2011)A lawyer in Karachi chucked a shoe at Zardari’s motorcade, enraged by corruption allegations. The shoe hit the car, not the man, but the imagery was potent: a leather- clad indictment of a leader accused of walking all over his people.7. Turkish PM Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (2014)A protester in Istanbul whipped off her sneaker and flung it at Erdoğan during a speech, shouting, “Take this for the martyrs!” The shoe missed, but the act—by a woman, in a headscarf—defied stereotypes of passive dissent in conservative circles.8. Australian Senator Jacqui Lambie (2015)In a rare Western twist, an anti-Islam protester threw a shoe at Lambie during a rally. She caught it mid-air and threw it back, sparking a surreal game of catch-me-if-you-can. The incident proved even politicians can play the shoe game, if they’ve got reflexes.9. Syrian President Bashar al-Assad (2013)A defected soldier lobbed a shoe at Assad’s portrait during a rebel rally, a symbolic strike at the dictator’s omnipresent image. The shoe missed the man but hit the myth, a small victory in a brutal war.10. Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari (2019)A protester in Abuja hurled a sandal at Buhari’s convoy, frustrated by economic hardship. The shoe bounced off the bulletproof glass, but the sentiment pierced through: We are stepping on broken dreams.The shoe remains the great equalizer, a projectile of the people, a slap in the face of power. Whether it’s Bush dodging in Baghdad or Blair ducking in Dublin, each throw carries the weight of history, the rage of the unheard, and the undeniable truth: when leaders fail, soles will fly. As long as injustice walks among us, the shoe will remain the people’s weapon of choice, lightweight, low-cost, and loaded with meaning."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Black Liberation Views on Palestine",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/black-liberation-on-palestine",
"date" : "2025-10-17 09:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/mandela-keffiyeh.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "In understanding global politics, it is important to look at Black liberation struggles as one important source of moral perspective. So, when looking at Palestine, we look to Black leaders to see how they perceived the Palestinian struggle in relation to theirs, from the 1960’s to today.Why must we understand where the injustice lies? Because, as Desmond Tutu famously said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”{% for person in site.data.quotes-black-liberation-palestine %}{{ person.name }}{% for quote in person.quotes %}“{{ quote.text }}”{% if quote.source %}— {{ quote.source }}{% endif %}{% endfor %}{% endfor %}"
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,
{
"title" : "First Anniversary Celebration of EIP",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "events",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/1st-anniversary-of-eip",
"date" : "2025-10-14 18:01:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/WSA_EIP_Launch_Cover.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent Publishing",
"content" : "Celebrating One Year of Independent PublishingJoin Everything is Political on November 21st for the launch of our End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine.This members-only evening will feature a benefit dinner, cocktails, and live performances in celebration of a year of independent media, critical voices, and collective resistance.The EventNovember 21, 2025, 7-11pmLower Manhattan, New YorkLaunching our End-of-Year Special Edition MagazineSpecial appearances and performancesFood & Drink includedTickets are extremely limited, reserve yours now!Become an annual print member: get x back issues of EIP, receive the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine, and come to the Anniversary Celebration.$470Already a member? Sign in to get your special offer. Buy Ticket $150 Just $50 ! and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine Buy ticket $150 and get the End-of-Year Special Edition Magazine "
}
,
{
"title" : "Miu Miu Transforms the Apron From Trad Wife to Boss Lady: The sexiest thing in Paris was a work garment",
"author" : "Khaoula Ghanem",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/miu-miu-transforms-the-apron-from-trad-wife-to-boss-lady",
"date" : "2025-10-14 13:05:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_MiuMiu_Apron.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.",
"content" : "Miuccia Prada has a habit of taking the least “fashion” thing in the room and making it the argument. For Spring 2026 at Miu Miu, the argument is the apron; staged not as a coy retro flourish but as a total system. The show’s mise-en-scène read like a canteen or factory floor with melamine-like tables, rationalist severity, a whiff of cleaning fluid. In other words, a runway designed to force a conversation about labor before any sparkle could distract us.From the opening look—German actress Sandra Hüller in a utilitarian deep-blue apron layered over a barn jacket and neat blue shirting—the thesis was loud: the “cover” becomes the thing itself. As silhouettes marched on, aprons multiplied and mutated—industrial drill cotton with front pockets, raw canvas, taffeta and cloqué silk, lace-edged versions that flirted with lingerie, even black leather and crystal-studded incarnations that reframed function as ornament. What the apron traditionally shields (clothes, bodies, “the good dress”) was inverted; the protection became the prized surface. Prada herself spelled it out: “The apron is my favorite piece of clothing… it symbolizes women, from factories through to serving to the home.”Miu Miu Spring 2026 Ready-to-Wear. SuppliedThis inversion matters historically. The apron’s earliest fashion-adjacent life was industrial. It served as a barrier against grease, heat, stain. It was a token of paid and unpaid care. Miu Miu tapped that lineage directly (canvas, work belts, D-ring hardware), then sliced it against domestic codes (florals, ruffles, crochet), and finally pushed into nightlife with bejeweled and leather bibs. The garment’s migration across materials made its social migrations visible. It is a kitchen apron, yes, but also one for labs, hospitals, and factories; the set and styling insisted on that plurality.What makes the apron such a loaded emblem is not just what it covers, but what it reveals about who has always been working. Before industrialization formalized labor into factory shifts and wages, women were already performing invisible labour, the kind that doesn’t exist on payrolls but sits at the foundation of every functioning society. They were cooking, cleaning, raising children, nursing the ill. These tasks were foundational to every economy and yet absent from every ledger. Even when women entered the industrial workforce, from textile plants to wartime assembly lines, their domestic responsibilities did not disappear, they doubled. In that context, the apron here is a quiet manifesto for the strength that goes unrecorded, unthanked, and yet keeps civilization running.The algorithmic rise of the “tradwife,” the influencer economy that packages domesticity as soft power, is the contemporary cultural shadow here. Miu Miu’s apron refuses that rehearsal. In fact, it’s intentionally awkward—oversized, undone, worn over bikinis or with sturdy shoes—so the viewer can’t flatten it into Pinterest-ready nostalgia. Critics noted the collection as a reclamation, a rebuttal to the flattening forces of the feed: the apron as a uniform for endurance rather than submission. The show notes framed it simply as “a consideration of the work of women,” a reminder that the invisible economies of effort—paid, unpaid, emotional—still structure daily life.If that sounds unusually explicit for a luxury runway, consider the designer. Prada trained as a mime at Milan’s Piccolo Teatro, earned a PhD in political science, joined the Italian Communist Party, and was active in the women’s rights movement in 1970s Milan. Those facts are not trivia; they are the grammar of her clothes. Decades of “ugly chic” were, essentially, a slow campaign against easy consumption and default beauty. In 2026, the apron becomes the newest dialect. An emblem drawn from leftist feminist history, recoded into a product that still has to sell. That tension—belief versus business—is the Miuccia paradox, and it’s precisely why these aprons read as statements, not trends.The runway narrative traced a journey from function to fetish. Early looks were squarely utilitarian—thick cottons, pocketed bibs—before migrating toward fragility and sparkle. Lace aprons laid transparently over swimmers; crystal-studded aprons slipped across cocktail territory; leather apron-dresses stiffened posture into armor. The sequencing proposed the same silhouette can encode labor, intimacy, and spectacle depending on fabrication. If most brands smuggle “workwear” in as set dressing, Miu Miu forced it onto the body as the central garment and an unmissable reminder that the feminine is often asked to be both shield and display at once.It’s instructive to read this collection against the house’s last mega-viral object: the micro-mini of Spring 2022, a pleated, raw-hem wafer that colonized timelines and magazine covers. That skirt’s thesis was exposure—hip bones and hemlines as post-lockdown spectacle, Y2K nostalgia framed as liberation-lite. The apron, ironically, covers. Where the micro-mini trafficked in the optics of freedom (and the speed of virality), the apron asks about the conditions that make freedom possible: who launders, who cooks, who cares? To move from “look at me” to “who is working here?” is a pivot from optics to ethics, without abandoning desire. (The aprons are, after all, deeply covetable.) In a platform economy that still rewards the shortest hemline with the biggest click-through, this is a sophisticated counter-program.Yet the designer is not romanticizing toil. There’s wit in the ruffles and perversity in the crystals; neither negate labor, they metabolize it. The most striking image is the apron treated as couture-adjacent. Traditionally, an apron protects the precious thing beneath; here, the apron is the precious thing. You could call that hypocrisy—luxurizing the uniform of workers. Or, strategy, insisting that the symbols of care and effort deserve visibility and investment.Of course, none of this exists in a vacuum. The “tradwife” script thrives because it is aesthetically legible and commercially scalable. It packages gender ideology as moodboard. Miu Miu counters with garments whose legibility flickers. The collection’s best looks ask viewers to reconcile tenderness with toughness, convenience with care, which is exactly the mental choreography demanded of women in every context from office to home to online.If you wanted a season-defining “It” item, you’ll still find it. The apron is poised to proliferate across fast-fashion and luxury alike. But the deeper success is structural: Miu Miu re-centered labor as an aesthetic category. That’s rarer than a viral skirt. It’s a reminder that clothes don’t merely decorate life, they describe and negotiate it. In making the apron the subject rather than the prop, Prada turned a garment of service into a platform for agency. It’s precisely the kind of cultural recursion you’d expect from a designer shaped by feminist politics, who never stopped treating fashion as an instrument of thought as much as style.The last image to hold onto is deceptively simple: a woman in an apron, neither fetishized nor infantilized, striding, hands free. Not a costume for nostalgia, not a meme for the feed, but a working uniform reframed, respected, and suddenly, undeniably beautiful. That is Miu Miu’s provocation for Spring 2026: the work behind the work, made visible at last."
}
]
}