I4C Trouble with Daly and Wallace

Western Powers know no shame as they continue to support the deliberate Starvation of the Palestinians despite the meaningless 'liberal' talk. As Part 2 of our powerful interview with Isa Blumi explains, merciless Western Imperialism is nothing new...

Professor Isa Blumi, an expert in Asian and Middle Eastern Studies at Stockholm University, discusses the complex interplay between finance capitalism and imperialism. He critically examines the humanitarian crises in Yemen and Gaza, challenging mainstream media narratives. Blumi delves into Yemen's rich cultural heritage and historical struggles against colonialism, detailing the region's resilience and innovative practices. He also explores Yemen's trade dynamics during the Cold War and the lasting impacts of foreign influences on its political landscape.

Our 200th podcast where we look at the slow death of international law, the repression of the dissenting voice, all linked to the decay of Capitalist Imperialism...

There is a growing Rebellion against Zionism and the response from the so called 'Democratic West' is the repression of Free Speech...

In this weeks podcast we host 2 important interviews, our friend Nahid Poureisa joins us with the latest from Tehran, while we chat to Richard Medhurst, pro-Palestinian journalist being targeted in 2 European states, a shocking account of repression in our so-called 'democratic garden'..a warning to all! Time to step up the struggle..

As Trump bombs Iranian nuclear sites, in the hunt for the nuclear weapons that everyone knows don't exist, he gets cover from the EU & the media! All in the service of Israel who continue to starve & slaughter Palestinians. It's Iraq & the WMD all over again! This week's Podcast..

There are no 2 sides or Iranian nukes. Iran has been attacked by settler colonial 🇮🇱 with 🇺🇸🇪🇺🇬🇧 & arab lackeys 🇯🇴🇸🇦 to eliminate those who support Palestine & the right to their own sovereignty. We stand with Iran- No War.

As Israel's ethnic cleansing in Gaza escalates with ever greater horror, they get a free pass in Syria from NATO's Al-Qaida man...while Irish politicians disgrace themselves re Iran AGAIN..we discuss..

https://x.com/ezzingaza/status/1924173298080063881I no longer go to the Indonesian hospital. What foolishness it is, to speak of hospitals in a place where life is no longer preserved but merely postponed. Once, I believed, oh, how bitterly I believed, that the presence of a doctor among the dying was a sacred thing, a last stand against the void. But here, where the void has taken residence in the very walls, what can sanctity do? The hospital is surrounded now. Not by men, not by soldiers even, but by machines. Drones, humming above like metallic locusts, devoid of soul or pity. They know neither suffering nor mercy, they are the purest expression of obedience without conscience. They circle the building like vultures circling a carcass not yet dead enough. Two days ago, the ceiling collapsed. A nurse had just spoken the word “hope.” Then came the blast, and the word hung in the air a moment too long before crumbling with the plaster. ICU monitors, those fragile gods of modern faith, shattered on the floor. One machine let out a long, wheezing beep as it died. It was the sound of resignation. I think I wept, but I cannot recall if it was with my eyes or only in my mind. And this morning, yes, this morning, as if dawn itself had become ashamed, a drone struck the intensive care unit. It came like a decision already made. There was no warning, no negotiation, no fate to plead with. Just fire. Patients ran. Doctors ran. The hallway became a river of chaos, but silent, terrifyingly silent. One man dragged his son by the shoulders, blood smearing behind them like a signature of some unseen pact. Another woman collapsed, not from injury but from the sheer weight of choosing which of her children to carry. Two patients were taken away in an ambulance, if that word still means anything. The rest had already passed into that cold stillness we now mistake for peace. We still work at the clinic, though I no longer know if it's from duty or habit, or some grotesque need to perform life while surrounded by death. We whisper. We disinfect. We bind wounds that will open again. The scalpel, once a tool of healing, now feels like an accomplice. At home, the walls speak in cracks. The roof sags under the pressure of memory. The air smells like dust and grief. My mother tapes the broken windows each day with the care of a priest dressing a corpse. My father rations rice with the reverence of a man offering communion. But outside, outside, it never stops. The bombing continues with the faithfulness of a priest at prayer. It does not pause. It does not tire. It beats like a heart possessed by something inhuman. And now, the streets. No, not streets, corridors of exile. Rows of tents like gravestones made of fabric. Children play in the ashes, unaware that they are survivors of a war not yet finished. The army says, Evacuate. To where? They do not say. Only: Leave. Disappear. Unbecome. Famine grows near. But even hunger, with its gnawing cruelty, is familiar. Hunger is intimate. It is ours. What is worse, what is unbearable, is the silence that follows the blast. The silence in which you call a name and no one answers. The silence where meaning once lived. This is not a war. It is annihilation dressed in the costume of procedure. It is a logic without soul, a godless arithmetic of bodies and coordinates. And still, still, some whisper that God watches. I do not know. Sometimes I think He has turned His face away, not out of indifference, but out of shame. But if you are reading this, if your eyes have reached these words like a boat reaching a shore you thought unreachable, then for the love of all things holy and damned: Do not look away. To look away is to become part of it. To forget is to bury us before we are dead. To remain silent is to drive the final nail.

Bono is not Kneecap, one serves US Empire, one serves Peace + Justice. Isreali Barbarism escalates, the need for Direct Action takes centre stage...