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Ireland’s race for the Áras

In post-Higgins Ireland, politics feels drained of poetry, principle, and public passion


24/10/2025

On Friday, the 24th of October, Ireland will vote for its tenth President. Politician, poet, and sociologist Michael D. Higgins will be stepping down after his second term as head of state, a term he won in a landslide. Higgins has enjoyed broad public approval. Formerly a Labour Party TD, he leans firmly to the left, and his tenure has been marked by his advocacy for human rights, social justice, and cultural life. He’s not without his critics—nor should any public figure be—but he’s represented the “Land of Saints and Scholars” with a kind of benevolent charm the rest of the world assumes all Irish people possess: poetic, amiable, and chock-full of integrity. 

In Ireland, Presidents do not wield sweeping political power. The office is largely ceremonial, far from the executive muscle of its American counterpart. But ceremonial does not mean irrelevant. Irish Presidents shape public discourse. They are moral weather vanes as much as constitutional figures. Mary Robinson and Mary McAleese both demonstrated this: Robinson championed women’s rights and global human rights long before such issues were politically comfortable, while McAleese’s emphasis on peace and reconciliation resonated deeply in post–Good Friday Agreement Ireland. Michael D., in his lilting way, set a tone for a more reflective, humane national identity. So while their powers are technically limited, their words and presence ripple through Ireland’s collective psyche.

This year’s race, however, feels stranger—a bit louder, a bit more online. For a brief, chaotic few weeks, Conor McGregor threatened to enter the race. The MMA fighter (who lost a civil rape case to Nikita Hand earlier this year) seemed to have found a kindred spirit in Donald Trump. Much like Trump, McGregor flirts with alt-right rhetoric, indulges racist dog whistles, and rails against “wokeism”. Blessedly, his presidential ambitions collapsed almost as soon as they began. He was never likely to secure the necessary nominations, but the idea of him bounding around the Áras was enough to make most people break into hives. His withdrawal likely owed more to public outrage than self-reflection, but at least the circus left town before it pitched a tent. I did, however, discover that Lord of the Dance Michael Flatley was briefly rumoured as a potential candidate. A Land of Riverdance sounds better than a Land of Rapists, at least.

With the ring cleared, the election has effectively become a two-horse race: independent left-winger Catherine Connolly and Fine Gael’s Heather Humphreys. Connolly, the more palatable of the two, comes across as principled but curiously flat. Her foreign policy stance begins and ends with “war is bad”—a sentiment few would dispute, but one that feels hollow without any plan for how to prevent or resolve conflict. It’s a familiar liberal affliction: the comfort of good intentions without the discomfort of detail.

Humphreys, by contrast, is more ideologically coherent but less ideologically appealing. To her credit, she’s been firm in describing Israel’s occupation of Gaza as genocide, but otherwise she remains a classic party-line operator. Her track record in Social Protection and Rural Affairs paints her as pragmatic, but hardly radical. Humphreys also has ties to the Orange Order via her husband and has refused to learn Irish despite previously serving as a Gaeltacht Minister. 

Adding to the general sense of fatigue is the “Spoil the Vote” campaign, a small but vocal movement urging voters to deliberately invalidate their ballots as a protest against the perceived sameness of both leading candidates. It’s not so much anti-political as it is exhausted. The campaign has gained some traction online, tapping into a wider mood of apathy and frustration. Whether it’s a symbolic act of resistance or just disengagement by another name, it speaks to a growing sense that the system itself is no longer listening.

So where does that leave us? The pros and cons are thinly spread. Connolly represents authenticity and independence, but risks being ineffectual. Humphreys offers experience and competence, but is tethered to a party line that feels increasingly out of step with the electorate. Neither inspires much joy—and perhaps that’s the real story. Ireland has moved from a politics of poetry to a politics of paperwork.

As for the forecast, Connolly is expected to edge out Humphreys, and personally, I’m glad. There are worse things to be than ineffectual, and I would prefer a left-wing independent to take the helm than I would a Fine Gael candidate. That being said, the election feels flat, unmotivated, uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see a significant drop in voter turnout on Friday instead of mere vote-spoiling. 

Still, it won’t be hard not to miss Michael D.—his measured poetry, his moral steadiness. Whoever replaces him will inherit not just the title, but the expectation of grace. That’s a tough act to follow, even without a UFC fighter in the wings.

The silent victim: Warfare’s enduring environmental scars across the Middle East

A comprehensive analysis of UN data and scientific studies reveals that the environmental damage from the ongoing military occupations will impact the region’s health and stability for generations


23/10/2025

The human cost of mass attacks is measured in lives lost and families displaced. However, a growing body of evidence from international organizations points to another, more enduring casualty: the environment. From the rubble-strewn landscape of Gaza to the fire-scorched lands of Lebanon and the industrial sites of Iran, military actions are unleashing long-term ecological disasters that poison the land, water, and air, threatening the foundation of life itself long after the fighting stops.

Gaza: An Unprecedented Environmental Collapse

In the Gaza Strip, the scale of environmental damage is so severe that experts are describing it as unprecedented.

A Toxic Tide of Rubble: The conflict has generated an estimated 50 to 61 million tons of debris, much of which contains hazardous materials like asbestos, unexploded ordnance, and human remains. The UN Environment Programme (UNEP) warns that clearing this rubble could take up to 14 years and poses a severe risk of contaminating soil and groundwater.

Systemic Water Contamination: The destruction of water and sanitation infrastructure has led to a catastrophic water crisis. With 85% of water facilities inoperable, over 100,000 cubic meters of raw or poorly treated sewage are being discharged into the Mediterranean Sea every day, polluting the coastline and the aquifer. This has left over 90% of Gaza’s water unfit for human consumption, creating a breeding ground for waterborne diseases.

Deliberate Destruction of Agriculture: Satellite data shows that the conflict has destroyed or damaged approximately 80% of Gaza’s tree cover, including thousands of olive trees, and over two-thirds of its cropland. This systematic destruction of farmland and orchards has not only wiped out food sovereignty but also stripped the land of its natural defenses against desertification.

A Massive Climate Footprint: The climate cost of the war is substantial. A study shared with The Guardian found that the long-term carbon footprint of the first 15 months of the conflict, including future reconstruction, could exceed 31 million tonnes of CO₂ equivalent—more than the annual emissions of many individual countries.

A Regional Pattern of Environmental Damage

The environmental impact of conflict is not confined to Gaza. A similar pattern of ecological damage is evident across the region.

In Lebanon, Israeli military actions have caused widespread destruction. Satellite data shows over 10,800 hectares burned in southern Lebanon in 2024, an area four times the size of Beirut . The use of white phosphorus munitions has been documented, igniting hundreds of fires that have destroyed prime farmland and damaged forests. An attack on the Jiyeh power station in July 2024 also caused a 10,000-ton oil spill into the Mediterranean, creating a major marine disaster.

In Syria, a report from the Quneitra Governorate detailed the “complete destruction” of the 186-hectare Kodna Forest, a 40-year-old natural treasure, with total environmental damages estimated at over $100 million. Furthermore, inspectors found traces of anthropogenic uranium at a site bombed by Israel, raising concerns about long-term radiological and chemical contamination.

In Iran, even a short, 12-day war in 2025 had significant environmental consequences. Strikes on oil refineries and a gas depot in Tehran led to major fires, releasing an estimated 47,000 tonnes of greenhouse gases and nearly 579,000 kg of airborne toxins into the atmosphere. Attacks on nuclear facilities, including Natanz and Fordo, prompted warnings from the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) about potential radiological contamination.

Legal Reckoning and a Long Road to Recovery

The systematic nature of the environmental destruction has led to calls for legal accountability. Research groups and Palestinian environmental organizations have called for the Israeli government to be investigated for the Rome Statute war crime of ecocide, which prohibits “widespread, long-term and severe damage to the natural environment“.

Recovery, however, will be a monumental task. A joint World Bank, UN, and EU assessment estimated that rebuilding Gaza would cost $53.2 billion over the next decade, with a significant portion needed for environmental recovery and restoring water and sanitation systems. As one expert starkly put it, the scale of destruction is such that Gaza’s environment may have been pushed to a point where it can no longer sustain life.

The environmental devastation documented across the Middle East serves as a stark reminder that the true cost of modern warfare is not only tallied in immediate casualties but in the prolonged, silent suffering of a poisoned ecosystem. Ensuring accountability and a clean, healthy environment for future generations must become a non-negotiable pillar of any lasting peace.

An archive should have the ability to adapt to what the movement needs

Collective memory as a form of resistance: an interview with Palästina Solidarität Archiv


22/10/2025

Exhibition “Memory Protocol – Oct 2023 Archiving Solidarity & Countering State Narratives”

Two years ago, a group of Berlin-based people came together under the name Palästina Solidarität Archiv, and started documenting and cataloguing materials related to the Palestine solidarity movement in the city, and the state repression they were and are subjected to. Their collection includes interviews with activists, photographs and videos from protests, state communications, posters and stickers. This weekend (17-19 October), a small part of it was displayed for the public for the first time, in an exhibition called “Memory Protocol – Oct 2023: Archiving Solidarity & Countering State Narratives”, hosted at AGIT. On the final day of the exhibition, we hosted an interview with one of the group’s members, to discuss their process, Germany’s state repression and ultimately, the use of archiving as a producer of counter narratives and a resistance tool, both for the present and for the future. 

Thanks for talking with us today. Can you start by telling us more about the Palästina Solidarität Archiv? 

The Palästina Solidarität Archiv is a project to document the state oppression and police brutality against the pro-Palestinian movement, that we have been witnessing in Berlin for the last two-three years; but also the resistance of the people and how they are fighting back. Documenting includes videos, pictures, communications between police and activists (for example, demonstration bans), and physical materials like stickers and banners. The archive also includes oral testimonies, from both newly engaged people in activism, and people who have been around for a long time—this has allowed us to look into the past, all the way from the 80s to today. We have more than 30 hours of interviews, and will still collect more. We hope it’s a long-term project. I’m glad we can see some of the fruits of the project right now, but my hope is that it would be beneficial in the future. 

Where did the idea come from? How did this group come together? 

The archive was an initiative from people that were part of Palästina Kampagne, a group with people coming from different backgrounds. Archiving means a lot in a Palestinian context, where many archives were destroyed by the Israeli military, plundered or taken into Israeli archives and made classified and therefore inaccessible to the public, and to Jewish comrades due to the documentation done during the Holocaust which proved so important many years after. We are a very diverse group. Everyone brings their own expertises, experience, and their own background—it’s amazing to be able to learn from so many people. 

The idea for the archive came around October 7, 2023 (although even before that the state and the media were using false narratives), because it became really important to be able to document our own history, what we were experiencing, to document our resistance—this is something that the state would never do. They only document what they portray as our criminal acts. One day, hopefully, we will be able to use this archive to do other projects, research, and help bring accountability around people who are involved in and facilitated the genocide. For the start of the project, we applied for a residency at AGIT, which supports different types of archiving work and other projects and exhibitions. We got the residency and some funding, but all the people working on the project are volunteers. AGIT has been a safe space for us to work and to interact with other groups, and to benefit from the experience of other archives.

How many people are involved in the archive, and what is the structure of the group like? 

When it started as an initiative from Palästina Kampagne, it was around five people. Soon after it started, we realized how much work it involved, so it evolved into an independent project—also to be a project for the whole community, and to see how it could benefit other groups. Now we are almost 20 people, but it varies, depending on capacity at any given moment. There’s a core group which coordinates, and around 13 people who help with different things, like digital security, video editing, pixelation, etc. There’s also a lot of people collecting stickers from all over the city and bringing them to the archive. 

You mentioned the connection with other groups. Is this also a way to connect different movements in the city?

We would like it to be a community archive—meaning that the archive should have the ability to adapt according to what the community needs. However, how do we find community? With what kind of engagement? What kind of say do different communities have in the archive? The idea is to be able to work with all the groups involved in the Palestine movement in the city and help as much as we can, but I wouldn’t say that we, as an archive, can bring the groups together. Even though our work is, of course, political work, it has a very specific goal with the archive—so our goal is not to bring groups together, but to be able to work with the different groups. 

Can you tell us more about the exhibition that was hosted at AGIT this weekend? 

We hope that one day, the material we’ve been collecting—which is a huge amount—can be publicly accessible for different people, groups and organisations. Right now, it’s difficult to make it public, because we are still living in a state of repression and the criminalisation rate is not only very high, but also very unpredictable—we don’t know what the state can regard as illegal, and what kind of repression one might face—so we need to take care of the people in the community. That’s why, until now, we have not published any material online, and we will not do that anytime soon. However, we still wanted to show that the archive exists and is still collecting material, and can do collaborations and exhibitions—even without publishing all the materials. 

For this first exhibition, we decided to begin where the idea for the project started as well: October 2023. The amount of material we have is insane. We focused on the first weeks after October 7, because at that point, the repression was unprecedented: the state of Berlin—and only Berlin—imposed a general ban on all pro-Palestine activities, including demonstrations, rallies, and any type of solidarity showing. They even prohibited vigils, where people just wanted to light up candles. We noticed that many people forgot how intense, overwhelming and surreal that was. A lot of people that visited the exhibition looked at the materials and started remembering that they were actually there, but didn’t really have it in their memory anymore. Besides showing the repression, in the exhibition we tried to recreate the development of the resistance of the movement here—we showcase the timeline throughout those weeks, how people kept going with persistence and resilience, how they kept registering demonstrations and using different tactics, until they were able to overcome the ban. 

Building on that, the exhibition also includes an interactive map. How has the visitors’ reaction and engagement been? 

The feedback has been really positive—people were glad that someone was archiving. They liked the construction of the exhibition itself, and how we showed the timeline. We are positively surprised with the engagement, this gives us motivation to keep going. In the beginning we were anxious, about how many people would show up, and how they would react. People are asking us how they can get involved in the project, and different groups asked to collaborate as well. At the same time, it is not an easy thing—the exhibition doesn’t have a lot of material, but once you start reading it and understand everything that was going on, it’s a tough topic. For most people, it was really emotional. 

It’s important how it’s framed about being not only about repression, but equally about resistance, and how to fight back in the particular context of the city where we are in. In that sense, why is archiving so important?

Resisting is not something that the state likes. Our resistance and our narrative is nothing that the state-influenced media would archive, or even show to begin with. So it’s really important for us to be able to actually know what happened back then, to have our own version of the story. It’s also important for people to see their own accomplishments—many have been posting pictures and videos online, but it’s mostly about state repression and police brutality, and sometimes small achievements. But what we are able to do with the archive is to actually reconstruct the whole timeline and visually show how everything came to be. That is important to have, to motivate us to keep fighting, as otherwise, people might get demotivated or frustrated, because we don’t see the difference we are making. Once the situation allows us to go public, this might help bring some people to court, see some accountability. I don’t know what kind of “justice” would make things right, but it might serve as proof that we were fighting against the state’s fascism and repression. 

Another thing this enables is to be able to contradict the police’s false narratives: when you look at the documents they provide, there is no logic; sometimes it’s just blatant lies. But now, we are able to provide videos and other documents for people who are facing charges and going to court; and these materials actually show that what the police claims is completely false. 

We often associate archives with something that is looking at the past; but the examples you’ve shared show they can have an impact in things like the legal system—and operating in the here and now.

It depends on the case that is being archived, and what can be publicly accessible. But archiving the repression is happening in parallel with the repression itself, which is ongoing. We hope to one day publish most of our materials after the repression has stopped or declined, so we will be able to look into the past in a way, but we can still make use of it now. The most important for the here and now is that defendants and their lawyers can request footage from us that could be relevant in their trials. We also work with trusted researchers and journalists who want to research and write about repression.

The exhibition is called Memory Protocol. Why did you choose this title?

It comes from the term Gedächtnisprotokoll [log of events reconstructed from the author’s memory], which is a specific paper with questions for people to share what they experienced after a demonstration, an arrest, or something else they have witnessed. It can be really overwhelming when a person is experiencing brutality from the police or any other kind of repression. With that adrenaline rush, one can forget a lot of things. So a memory protocol makes it easier to answer a couple of questions, which might help afterwards. That’s why we use that term. 

We also have an interactive map at the exhibition where people can add their own experience from what they can remember—even though now is not directly after October 2023, we are still close enough to that time, to bring memories and archive them before they get lost. The way we constructed the exhibition, it’s just like the protocol—we bring people into a setting that is similar to the one in October 2023, hoping to refresh their memories and be able to extract some more things for the archive. 

You work in English, German and Arabic. Arabic feels particularly important, since it’s been criminalised in Berlin. The exhibition also has the three languages, it’s not available just for German-speaking audiences. 

A lot of groups are using Arabic for their activism and organising, which is amazing to see, since the Arabic language, and the Arabic identity itself has been criminalised here. In some demonstrations the Arabic language was banned, but also Hebrew. I remember a demonstration in Potsdamer Platz, where an Arab comrade and an Israeli comrade were both not allowed to hold speeches in their own languages. The bans in this country have reached absurd levels—not only languages, but Germany has also banned the use of certain colors [the Palestinian flag colors], geometric shapes, fruits…

For the archive, we want the materials to be accessible to everyone—that’s why we are trying our best to work in all three languages. We translate the police documents, and hold and translate the interviews into English, German and Arabic. Using Arabic at this time is also empowering for the community—people with an immigration background, especially Arab and Muslim people, who are more affected by the repression than others. So it’s good they can still engage with their own identity. 

For the people who have missed the exhibition this weekend, what can they expect to see in the future? How can they get involved? 

For the people that missed the exhibition, unfortunately it was only here for a weekend, but we will make available online some photos and a video. For the archive, people can get involved and bring in their own expertises—in digital security, audio and video editing, etc. They can join the group and support in any ways they can. They can also send us materials to be added to the archive. 

In terms of what to expect from us, as I said, there won’t be any publication of the materials soon, but people can expect other similar exhibitions, and we are also thinking about workshops—for example, things needed to be able to set up an archive, or how to film demonstrations (we get a lot of videos we can’t actually use, because there is a certain way to document events and a specific type of information we need to see in a video so it’s of any use); but also some collaborations. We are still not sure about how all of this will look like. 

The West shows its true face

Complicity in genocide and silencing dissent—Europe can no longer feign “moral” superiority


21/10/2025

People at a protest, waving Palestine flags in the background. One person wearing a Keffiyeh, holds a sign that reads: Israel bombardiert, Deutschland finanziert.

The moral bankruptcy of European leaders is reflected in the continuation of their unwavering support for the State of Israel. Despite uttering some minor criticism, nothing has changed in substance. Some European leaders are now openly criticising the IDF’s cruel actions in light of the horrific images of deliberately provoked famine, as if, after two years of intense genocide, they are beginning to sense that a court may put them in the dock for complicity and support for genocide. 

Let us hope that one day this will happen, and, if not, at least history will judge them.

While the IDF has already confessed that 83% of the deaths in Gaza are civilians, its “great leader” has announced his intention to escalate the invasion of Gaza. Bibi Netanyahu, whose cruelty and shamelessness know no bounds, recently blamed algorithms for the global condemnation of Israel for its actions. Meanwhile, his government is holding talks with various world leaders to have Palestinians expelled once and for all from Gaza and thus achieve the long-desired ethnic cleansing. At this point, it is difficult to remain indifferent or justify such displays of cruelty. This would explain why there is growing worldwide rejection of Israel’s crimes and demonstrations in favor of Palestine. Contrary to what Zionist propaganda claims, this is not due to algorithms.

Even in Israel’s “allied” countries, Italy and France, fierce resistance is beginning to emerge, with unionized dock workers blocking shipments of weapons to Israel. At the same time, three NGOs in Belgium have issued an open call to block all Israel-bound shipments. Even in Israel itself, voices are starting to rise up and denounce their government’s actions as “genocide”. The Israeli NGO B’tselem, which focuses on the occupied Palestinian territories, has published a report entitled “Our Genocide” Leaders of international Zionism are beginning to turn their backs on Netanyahu’s government, as in the case of Avrum Burg, leader of the Jewish Voice for Labour agency, who has called on Jews to denounce the Israeli government before the Hague for war crimes. In his article, he states:

“Here is how we can begin: We need one million Jews. Less than ten percent of the global Jewish population to file a joint appeal to the International Court of Justice in The Hague. A collective legal complaint against the State of Israel for crimes against humanity committed in our name and under the false banner of our Jewish identity. 

“It is time to say: enough!”

Understandably, Zionist leaders now fear that Israel’s criminal actions will increase “real” antisemitism throughout the world, as the government claims to act on behalf and in the name of “all jews“, which could lead to a worldwide rejection of Jewishness (and this is a real danger). It should not be forgotten that it has been largely anti-Zionist Jews who have raised their voices against Israel since the beginning of the military operation in Gaza. Israeli sociologist Moshe Zuckermann has researched how the accusation of “antisemitism” has been systematically used as a tool of control by successive Israeli governments to cover up their crimes and defame their detractors. Let us not fall into the trap of equating Zionism with Judaism or Jewish culture, let alone equating anti-Zionism with antisemitism.

If we have to discuss and expose cognitive dissonance, Germany’s political class remains a case worthy of analysis. The current chancellor, Friedrich Merz, has at least had the “guts” to criticise Israel and its policy of extermination and to announce the cessation of arms and war material shipments that could be used in Gaza against the Palestinian population, a decision that earned him admonishment from the German sectors most committed to the state of Israel. At a recent press conference, German government spokespeople expressed concern about the Israeli army’s new intentions to invade Gaza and about the uncontrolled violence of fanatical settlers in the West Bank, but both “issues” were treated as if they were unrelated events and not part of a larger plan of colonisation and extermination of Palestinians. We can’t expect too much of this government, lest they be accused of “antisemitism” or of being “defenders of Hamas”.

Things may seem to be moving slowly on the European and international stage in terms of addressing the reality of genocide, but repression is swiftly intensifying . On the streets of Berlin, the “capital of Zionist repression, systematic persecution of pro-Palestinian protests is escalating. The Berlin police are using brutal techniques against peaceful demonstrators, while legal persecution shows that institutional violence against protesters, many of them students, foreigners, and immigrants, is growing. But the repressive actions of the Berlin state and police are no longer going unnoticed. Germany was recently the subject of criticism by the European Commission of Human Rights due to the severe restrictions on freedom of expression and police brutality within Germany. 

The repression of protests, media defamation, and legal persecution of the so-called “antisemites” who dare to oppose the genocide—and Germany’s complicity with it—convey a clear message: Think twice before you post or publish something in favor of Palestinians or critical of Israel, and if you do, don’t complain if you are fired, your career is jeopardised, or you are arrested. Many cases of people who have been punished for not following the “right line“ of conduct can be found in the Archive of Silence, where the wide suppression of dissenting voices is well documented. 

It’s already happening that people are afraid to speak loudly about Gaza and Palestine. State repression has solidified Germany as a fully fledged police state, where imposed censorship and self-censorship go hand in hand. 

This might explain why a large number of Germans continue to support Israel tacitly or avoid speaking out against their government or Israel to avoid problems. After all, for years, the German population has been well disciplined and fed a good dose of complacency and moral superiority. The only difference from 70 years ago is that now they cannot claim they knew nothing—another genocide to add to this nation’s sad history. 

In the so-called “West”, we are witnessing a spectacle where everything is falling apart under its own weight. What many people in this country do not seem to recognise is that the world has moved on and that Europe will no longer dictate its lessons in morality to anyone, least of all now. In fact, after 500 years of global colonial and neocolonial domination, Europe has lost its significance within this new multipolar world. And the silent support for the extermination of Palestinians is just one of the many signs of moral decline on this continent and its supposed “values”. 

23 October 1956 – Start of Hungarian revolution

This week in working class history


In 1956, Russian hegemony in Eastern Europe was beginning to falter. In February, President Khrushchev delivered his “secret speech”, denouncing some of the actions of his predecessor Joseph Stalin. In June, Polish workers went on strike in Poznan for better working conditions and against a new mandatory work quota. A police station was taken over and the city’s Communist Party headquarters were trashed. Ten thousand troops eventually crushed the uprising at the cost of 80 lives—but a spark had been lit. 

Four months later, a similar uprising erupted in Hungary when, following a student demonstration “in solidarity with our Polish brothers”, hundreds of thousands of people built barricades and fought pitched battles with Russian tanks. A statue of Stalin was torn down. This was not merely a student rebellion. Strikes were organised, and putative workers’ councils began to form. A Central Workers’ Council took charge of production in Budapest’s factories.

When protestors marched on the radio station, the AVH secret police fired into the crowd. Some Hungarian police and army switched sides and joined the demonstrators. Colonel Pál Maléter later recounted: “I received an order to set out with five tanks against insurgents. When I arrived at the spot, I became convinced that the freedom fighters were not bandits, but loyal sons of the Hungarian people. So I informed the Minister that I would go over to the insurgents.”

Journalist Peter Fryer was sent by the British Communist Party to denounce the uprising. Instead, he reported:  “After eleven years the incessant mistakes of the Communist leaders, the brutality of the State Security Police, the widespread bureaucracy and mismanagement, the bungling, the arbitrary methods and the lies have led to total collapse. This was no counter-revolution, organised by fascists and reactionaries. It was the upsurge of a whole people, in which rank-and-file Communists took part.”

The Hungarian uprising was crushed by Soviet tanks, leaving an estimated 2,500 dead. The experience of resistance against the Soviet monolith disillusioned many Leftists, but it also indirectly contributed towards the growth of the New Left—socialists East and West who sought alternatives beyond both US and Soviet imperialism. This New Left would form the backbone of the struggles of the following decade, from opposition to the US war in Vietnam to the resistance against the Soviet invasion of Prague. Their legacy lives on.