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  1. How to Build Real-World Antifascism: A Practical Instruction Manual for Civic Defense

    By Cliff Potts – originally for Occupy25.com

    Introduction

    Online activism matters—but survival depends on more than hashtags and digital outrage. Real-world antifascism is about turning awareness into protection, mutual support, and cultural creation. This guide provides an academic framework and practical roadmap for individuals and communities seeking to move beyond symbolic resistance into lived antifascist practice.

    Antifascism, historically, is not just a political stance—it is a method of social defense (Paxton, 2004). Fascism feeds on atomization, fear, and despair; therefore, the counterforce must be grounded in solidarity, courage, and care. The following three-tier framework—Defense, Connection, and Creation—outlines how ordinary people can build resilient, humane communities that resist authoritarian collapse.

    🛡️ 1. Defense — Make the Vulnerable Safer

    Know your local rights.
    Start with education. Every activist should understand the laws that govern protest, recording law enforcement, and self-defense in their state or province. Legal literacy prevents intimidation and enables lawful assertion of rights. Resources such as the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and National Lawyers Guild provide regional guides to protest and privacy protections (ACLU, 2023).

    Mutual protection networks.
    Organize trusted micro-groups—three to five people is ideal—for security and accountability. These “affinity groups” have been a cornerstone of successful protest movements from the Spanish Civil War to the modern climate justice era (Bray, 2017). Members should exchange secure contact methods, set rally check-ins, and practice situational awareness. In emergencies, small units react faster and protect each other better than loosely connected crowds.

    Build community safety nets.
    Authoritarianism grows where despair thrives. Helping neighbors with transportation, ID recovery, food distribution, and medication access undermines the desperation that fascist recruiters exploit. Social aid is not charity—it is civic armor. Each act of care weakens the narrative that “no one will help you except the strongman.”

    🤝 2. Connection — Rebuild the Civic Fabric

    Show up physically.
    Attend local meetings: town councils, school boards, library committees, parish gatherings, or labor unions. Autocracy gains ground when citizens stop participating. Presence is political. The simple act of showing up transforms institutions from abstract systems into human spaces.

    Mentor and listen.
    Engage with younger generations who are disillusioned or radicalized online. Offer mentorship through skill-based teaching—writing, first aid, community organizing, or journalism. Teaching practical skills replaces nihilism with purpose, an essential step in democratic renewal (Giroux, 2018).

    Bridge without surrender.
    You do not need to argue extremists into enlightenment. Instead, maintain dialogue with the “gray middle”—those disengaged but influenceable citizens who often decide which way society tilts. By staying calm, visible, and humane, antifascists inoculate communities against polarization and propaganda.

    🌱 3. Creation — Fill the Cultural Space Fascism Feeds On

    Make art that resists.
    Fascism thrives when culture becomes propaganda. Writers, painters, musicians, and performers have a duty to tell the truth beautifully and bravely. From Picasso’s Guernica to protest folk songs, culture has always been the emotional infrastructure of resistance (Eco, 1995). Create art that speaks to decency, courage, and shared humanity.

    Practice mutual aid as daily culture.
    Food drives, community gardens, neighborhood repair days, and disaster response teams prove that cooperation works better than cruelty. These initiatives demonstrate that mutual support is not utopian—it is efficient. Every local project models the world we claim to defend.

    Build parallel institutions.
    When mainstream systems rot under corporate or authoritarian capture, communities must create independent alternatives: local presses, worker cooperatives, volunteer clinics, and study circles. These institutions do not wait for permission; they act. History shows that decentralized, self-funded networks sustain democratic culture when formal structures fail (Scott, 2012).

    Conclusion: From Protest to Presence

    Real-world antifascism is not merely opposition—it is construction. It is the act of re-weaving civic life torn apart by greed and fear. It lives wherever neighbors learn each other’s names, workers demand fair pay, elders teach forgotten truths, and artists refuse silence. Fascism collapses when people choose presence over apathy, solidarity over spectacle, and service over submission.

    As the twentieth century’s antifascist movements proved, moral courage is contagious. When we act—feeding, teaching, protecting, creating—we embody the alternative. In doing so, we make antifascism more than a slogan; we make it a culture of survival.

    References

    ACLU. (2023). Know your rights: Demonstrations and protests. American Civil Liberties Union. https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights/protesters-rights

    Bray, M. (2017). Antifa: The antifascist handbook. Melville House.

    Eco, U. (1995). Ur-Fascism. The New York Review of Books, 42(11), 12–15.

    Giroux, H. A. (2018). The terror of the unforeseen: Cultural politics in the age of Trump. Los Angeles: OR Books.

    Paxton, R. O. (2004). The anatomy of fascism. New York: Vintage Books.

    Scott, J. C. (2012). Two cheers for anarchism: Six easy pieces on autonomy, dignity, and meaningful work and play. Princeton University Press.

    #activism #antifascism #CivicEngagement #CliffPotts #communityDefense #culturalResistance #democraticRenewal #grassrootsOrganizing #mutualAid #occupy25 #politicalEducation
  2. Battle of The Beanfield

    There are certain moments in modern British history that seem to sit just beyond the edge of official memory. Events that everybody vaguely remembers, yet somehow never quite make it into the comfortable national story we tell ourselves.

    The Battle of Orgreave is one. The miners’ strike is another. The poll tax riots. Hillsborough. Brixton. They linger in photographs, old television footage and the memories of those who were there, carrying the uncomfortable reminder that Britain is not always as civilised, measured and orderly as it likes to imagine itself to be.

    The Battle of the Beanfield belongs firmly in that category.

    Forty years on, it remains one of the most controversial policing operations in modern British history. More than 1,300 police officers confronted a convoy of around 600 New Age Travellers attempting to reach Stonehenge on 1 June 1985. By the end of the day, dozens of people had been injured, hundreds had been arrested and an entire way of life had effectively been marked for destruction.

    What happened in that Hampshire beanfield has never been the subject of a full public inquiry. Yet for many people who witnessed the decline of Britain’s traditional industries during the Thatcher years, the images remain painfully familiar.

    I grew up in Yorkshire through the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s. I watched pit villages hollow out. I watched steelworks close. I watched communities that had existed for generations suddenly find themselves described as obstacles to progress. There was a language that emerged during those years. Certain groups became “the problem”. Miners. Trade unionists. Travellers. Alternative communities. Anyone who stood outside the increasingly rigid idea of what Britain was supposed to become.

    That is one reason the Battle of the Beanfield still matters.

    To understand the confrontation itself, we first need to understand the strange, colourful and often misunderstood world that produced it.

    The Stonehenge Free Festival began in 1974. It emerged from the wider countercultural movements of the late 1960s and early 1970s, combining music, environmentalism, spiritual exploration, political activism and communal living. Over the following decade it grew steadily, becoming one of the largest free gatherings in Britain. By the early 1980s thousands of people travelled to Stonehenge each summer to celebrate the solstice. The festival attracted an eclectic mix of punks, bikers, druids, musicians, environmental campaigners, anarchists, hippies and families living on the road.

    The people who became known as the Peace Convoy were not a single organisation. They were a loose collection of travellers, festival-goers and alternative communities who spent much of the year moving between free festivals, protest camps and temporary settlements. Some were escaping unemployment. Some rejected consumer culture. Others simply wanted a different way of living. Many travelled in converted buses, coaches, ambulances and vans that doubled as homes.

    To their supporters they represented freedom, creativity and resistance to conformity.

    To their critics they represented disorder.

    By 1984 tensions were reaching breaking point. The Stonehenge festival had become enormous. Estimates suggested attendance reached around 100,000 people. Concerns were raised about damage to the archaeological landscape, litter, unauthorised trading and open drug use. English Heritage, which had recently taken over management of the site, came under increasing pressure to act. Local authorities and police forces were equally determined that the gathering should not continue in its existing form. A High Court injunction was obtained to prevent the 1985 festival from taking place. The state had drawn a line.

    On the morning of 1 June 1985, the Peace Convoy left Savernake Forest and began moving towards Stonehenge. Around 140 vehicles carried approximately 600 people. Many were families. Children were travelling alongside adults who had spent years living on the road. They knew there would be police opposition. Few appear to have anticipated what was waiting for them.

    Police had prepared extensively.

    The miners’ strike had ended only months earlier. During that bitter industrial conflict police forces had developed new methods of coordination, rapid deployment and large-scale public order operations. Senior officers later openly acknowledged that lessons learned during the strike had informed preparations for dealing with the travellers.

    A four-mile exclusion zone had been established around Stonehenge. Roadblocks were prepared. Officers from multiple forces were assembled. Some estimates place police numbers at around 1,300. Others suggest even higher figures by the end of the operation.

    The convoy encountered its first major roadblock near Shipton Bellinger, several miles from Stonehenge. According to police accounts, some traveller vehicles attempted to push through the blockade and rammed police vehicles. Travellers and independent witnesses tell a very different story. They describe a convoy seeking negotiation before finding itself trapped and surrounded.

    Whatever happened during those first moments, the situation rapidly escalated.As vehicles attempted to leave the road and move into adjacent fields, police began smashing windows and making arrests. The convoy became scattered across farmland. Families were separated. Children became lost in the confusion. What followed would become one of the most infamous confrontations in modern British policing.

    Television footage remains difficult to watch even now.

    Officers in riot gear strike vehicle windows with truncheons. People are dragged from buses and vans. Terrified children can be seen inside shattered vehicles. Journalists and witnesses described police hitting men and women indiscriminately. Several accounts alleged pregnant women and individuals carrying babies were assaulted during the operation. Numerous vehicles that functioned as homes were systematically damaged.

    The Earl of Cardigan, whose family owned Savernake Forest and who had followed the convoy on a motorcycle, later provided testimony that proved deeply damaging to official police narratives. He described officers rushing vehicles with drawn truncheons, shouting at occupants and creating scenes of intimidation and violence that contradicted many early police claims.

    Journalists present that day reported similar concerns.

    ITN footage captured scenes that shocked many viewers. Photographer Alan Lodge later described the event as an ambush rather than a battle. Others argued the very name “Battle of the Beanfield” created a misleading impression of two evenly matched sides. One side possessed riot shields, command structures, communications systems and overwhelming numerical superiority. The other consisted largely of civilians living in vehicles.

    By the end of the operation, 537 people had been arrested. It remains one of the largest mass arrests of civilians in modern British history. Most of the charges eventually collapsed or were dismissed.

    That fact alone raises uncomfortable questions.

    If hundreds of supposedly dangerous lawbreakers had been lawfully apprehended while carrying out serious criminal acts, one might expect hundreds of successful prosecutions to follow. Instead, much of the legal case simply evaporated.

    Years later, travellers successfully pursued civil actions against Wiltshire Police. Damages were awarded for wrongful arrest, false imprisonment and property damage. One police sergeant was convicted of actual bodily harm arising from the events of that day.

    Yet despite these outcomes, there has never been a full public inquiry.

    Perhaps that is because the Battle of the Beanfield was about more than Stonehenge.

    Looking back now, it feels impossible to separate it from the wider atmosphere of Britain in the mid-1980s. This was a country being transformed at extraordinary speed. Traditional industries were disappearing. Unemployment was soaring in many regions. Entire communities were fighting for survival. Alternative lifestyles increasingly found themselves portrayed as threats to public order rather than expressions of individual freedom.

    For many people in mining and industrial areas, there is a recognisable pattern.

    First comes the language.

    A group is described as troublesome, outdated or undesirable.

    Then comes the media narrative.

    Then comes the justification.

    Then comes the force.

    That does not mean every traveller was a saint, any more than every miner was. Human beings are messy. Large gatherings bring problems. Some attendees at the Stonehenge festivals undoubtedly caused damage. Some individuals within the traveller movement undoubtedly committed crimes. A serious historical assessment has to acknowledge that reality. The archaeological concerns surrounding Stonehenge were genuine. Local residents had legitimate complaints. Authorities were entitled to seek solutions.

    But none of that explains the scale of what happened on 1 June 1985.

    The images of smashed homes, frightened children and riot police advancing across fields continue to disturb because they seem wildly disproportionate. They suggest a state determined not merely to enforce an injunction but to send a message.

    And the message was received.

    The traveller movement never fully recovered.

    Legislation introduced during the following years increasingly restricted nomadic lifestyles and unauthorised gatherings. The Public Order Act 1986 and later the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 created new powers that made life significantly harder for travellers, free festivals and eventually the emerging rave culture.

    In many ways the Beanfield became a blueprint. The same language used against travellers would later be applied to ravers, squatters, protesters and environmental activists. Alternative communities were increasingly framed not as citizens exercising freedoms but as public order problems requiring management.

    Yet the legacy of the Beanfield refuses to disappear.

    Songs were written about it. The Levellers turned it into a folk-punk anthem that introduced a new generation to the story. Hawkwind referenced it. Writers, filmmakers and activists kept returning to it. Every summer solstice the memory resurfaces among those who remember what happened.

    Perhaps that is because the Battle of the Beanfield sits at the crossroads of so many larger questions.

    Who gets to occupy public space?

    Who decides what constitutes a legitimate way of living?

    How much power should the state possess when dealing with communities that reject mainstream norms?

    And perhaps most importantly of all, what happens when governments begin to see certain groups not as citizens but as enemies?

    Forty years later those questions feel remarkably current.

    The travellers who set out for Stonehenge in 1985 were not trying to overthrow the government. They were trying to reach a festival. They were trying to celebrate a solstice. They were trying, in their own eccentric and imperfect way, to live differently.

    Many paid a heavy price for that.

    For those of us who grew up watching pits close, furnaces go cold and communities written off as inconvenient relics of the past, the Beanfield feels like part of the same story. Different people. Different landscape. Different politics perhaps. But the same underlying lesson.

    When power decides a group no longer belongs, it rarely begins with dialogue.

    It begins with exclusion.

    Then comes the roadblock.

    Further Reading

    Andy Worthington, The Battle of the Beanfield

    Christopher Chippindale, Stoned Henge: Events and Issues at the Summer Solstice, 1985

    Emma Hallett, BBC News, Summer Solstice: How the Stonehenge Battles Faded

    Tony Thompson, The Observer, Twenty Years After, Mystery Still Clouds Battle of the Beanfield

    English Heritage, Stonehenge 1977–85: A Dig in Time and a Confrontation

    Copyright © Mysterious Times 2026. All rights reserved. This article may not be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from Mysterious Times, except in the case of brief quotations used for review, criticism or scholarly reference.

    #1980sBritain #1985Events #AlternativeBritain #AlternativeCommunities #AlternativeLifestyles #BattleOfTheBeanfield #BritishCounterculture #BritishFolklore #BritishHistory #BritishProtestCulture #BritishSociety #BritishSubcultures #CivilLiberties #CivilRights #ContemporaryHistory #CounterculturalHistory #Counterculture #CountercultureHistory #culturalHeritage #CulturalResistance #Druidry #EnglishCountryside #EnglishHeritage #FestivalCulture #ForgottenHistory #FreeFestivals #FreeSpiritBritain #FreedomOfMovement #Hampshire #HiddenHistory #HistoricalAnalysis #HistoricalConflict #HistoricalControversies #HistoricalMysteries #HistoryFeatures #LongReadHistory #LostBritain #MargaretThatcher #MiningCommunities #ModernBritishMythology #ModernFolklore #ModernLegends #MysteriousTimes #NewAgeMovement #NewAgeTravellers #Paganism #PeaceConvoy #PeopleSHistory #PoliceHistory #PoliticalHistory #ProtestHistory #ProtestMovements #PublicOrder #RoadProtestHistory #RuralEngland #SocialChange #SocialCommentary #socialHistory #SocialJustice #SolsticeCelebrations #SolsticeTraditions #StatePower #Stonehenge #StonehengeFreeFestival #StonehengeHistory #SummerSolstice #ThatcherEra #Thatcherism #TravellerMovement #TravellerRights #TravellingCommunities #UKHistory #UndergroundBritain #UnofficialBritain #Wiltshire #WorkingClassHistory #YorkshireHistory
  3. ↕️ Renverse.co ↕️ STILL WE'LL RISE : CINÉMA ET LUTTES CONTRE LA VIOLENCE POLICIÈRE: STILL WE'LL RISE, cycle de films sur violences policières et résistances. Au cinéma Spoutnik, 11 rue de la Coulouvrenière : 17.09, 26.09,… #ViolencePolicière #Résistance #Cinéma #CulturalResistance #JusticePourTous

    STILL WE'LL RISE : CINÉMA ET L...

  4. ↕️ Renverse.co ↕️ STILL WE'LL RISE : CINÉMA ET LUTTES CONTRE LA VIOLENCE POLICIÈRE: STILL WE'LL RISE, cycle de films sur violences policières et résistances. Au cinéma Spoutnik, 11 rue de la Coulouvrenière : 17.09, 26.09,… #ViolencePolicière #Résistance #Cinéma #CulturalResistance #JusticePourTous

    STILL WE'LL RISE : CINÉMA ET L...

  5. Forum for African Women Educationalists

    Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen

    Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project

    Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2025/05/29

    Teresa Omondi-Adeitan, Deputy Executive Director of FAWE, discusses women’s leadership in Africa at CSW69. Despite international agreements like the Maputo Protocol mandating gender parity, implementation remains weak due to cultural and political resistance. Rwanda exemplifies deliberate leadership in women’s inclusion, but many nations lack enforcement. Economic arguments have proven effective in convincing male leaders of the benefits of gender equality. FAWE emphasizes early leadership training for girls and boys to normalize women’s leadership. Challenges persist, including campaign financing and election-related gender violence, but institutionalizing gender equity, rather than relying on individual leaders, is essential for lasting progress.

    Scott Douglas Jacobsen: Name and title.

    Teresa Omondi-Adeitan: My name is Teresa Omondi-Adeitan. I’m the Deputy Executive Director of the Forum for African Women Educationalists, commonly known as FAWE.

    Jacobsen: Today, we are at the 68th session of the Commission on the Status of Women (CSW68), marking Beijing+30 and the 25th anniversary of UN Security Council Resolution 1325 on Women, Peace, and Security. It’s a significant year for these discussions.

    Recently, we have seen political shifts, particularly within the American administration and among other political leaders, including autocrats, who view these developments as beneficial to their agendas. However, these changes are not favourable for women globally in terms of political representation, economic participation, and gender parity in general.

    First, taking a broad perspective, what has been your major takeaway from this particular Commission compared to previous ones?

    Omondi-Adeitan: This is an important commission because this year marks 30 years since the 1995 Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing. That conference is especially significant because it led to adopting the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, which remains a comprehensive framework for advancing gender equality. Many of the women’s rights we enjoy today are based on that declaration and the commitments made by governments worldwide.

    It is inspiring to walk into this conference and see some women present at the Beijing Conference still championing gender equality and pushing for advancements in political, economic, social, and cultural participation.

    Being here during this conference is about evaluating our progress. How far have we come? Have we achieved the commitments made 30 years ago? Are we living up to the promises made by those who came before us?

    At the same time, I have observed significant setbacks. Progress often feels like taking one step forward and two steps back. The question I keep asking is: What is going wrong? Why are we unable to sustain the gains we have made?

    This conference has been particularly valuable because I have had the opportunity to hear perspectives from different countries. These discussions are shaping my thinking, especially as the Deputy Executive Director of FAWE. They are prompting me to reconsider our approaches and strategies for achieving and maintaining women’s rights.

    Jacobsen: We just came from a session in the Church Center for the United Nations (CCUN) on the eighth floor. One thing that stood out was the striking similarity in shared stories. They were not identical, but regardless of the country or whether someone comes from a background of disability or not, the emotions and words used to describe the current situation were remarkably similar. There is a clear sense that we are in a period of pushback. When reflecting on that pushback in the context of FAWE’s programs, what are you considering for the sustainability of those programs and the efforts they advance?

    Omondi-Adeitan: We discussed women’s participation in politics in the session we just attended. At FAWE, we recognize that early intervention is crucial. Too often, women are expected to run for political office or serve in public leadership roles without prior exposure to leadership experiences.

    As an education-focused organization, we aim to empower girls and women through education in Africa. Leadership development must start early, equipping young girls with the skills, confidence, and knowledge necessary to step into leadership roles later in life.

    We are using the education system to teach girls early on to become leaders. As early as five years old, a child can begin serving as a class prefect or class president, depending on the terminology used in different countries. They can already be given responsibilities in grade six or seven. By the time they reach grade nine, they may even lead a school as a school president.

    This way, when they get to university and beyond, and someone approaches them with a leadership opportunity, they are ready because they have already gained experience. In many parts of Africa, particularly among women, leadership exposure often comes only after completing university. The common refrain has been, “Oh, but there is this position, but no women are interested.” It is not that women are uninterested, but rather that this is the first time they are told they can lead. Too often, they are quickly processed or hastily trained for leadership at the last moment.

    At FAWE, we aim to change this by creating a pool of young women prepared for leadership roles from an early age. It can be as simple as being a class monitor responsible for taking books to the teacher for marking, leading the Girl Guides in school, or heading the debate club. These small responsibilities help normalize leadership so that when greateropportunities arise, it is neither a surprise nor an overwhelming challenge. Our approach within the education sector is to embed leadership training early, ensuring that young women are already equipped with the necessary skills when they enter public life.

    We hope this will increase the number of women willing to enter public leadership. When young girls start experiencing criticism early on, they become more resilient. By the time they face the more intense scrutiny that comes with public leadership, they will have already toughened up and know what to expect.

    Jacobsen: One critical aspect of leadership is skill-building. In a session I attended a few days ago, a European delegate noted that women are often over-mentored but underprovided with opportunities in their cultural context. They receive extensive guidance but are not given the actual chance to lead. The question then becomes: How do we balance early leadership opportunities with continued mentorship so that young women receive training and have real platforms to exercise their skills?

    Omondi-Adeitan: There are two primary public spaces for leadership. One is within government institutions, such as serving as a minister, a permanent secretary, or a leader in a state-owned corporation. This type of leadership does not require substantial financial resources but depends on skills, positioning, and opportunities. However, the most persistent challenge remains political leadership. We all know that running for office requires resources, and that is where many women face significant barriers.

    There is bribery, issues of positioning, and many other challenges. Women often lack the financial resources needed to run effective campaigns, leading to what some call being “over-skilled.” These women have the expertise and are mentors, but they cannot afford a campaign tracker, campaign T-shirts, or television advertisements to promote their candidacy. I have heard this concern repeatedly.

    At the same time, development partners who advocate for women in leadership are often unwilling to fund essential campaign expenses, such as fuel for campaign vehicles, advertising costs, or campaign materials like T-shirts. I have worked in contexts where we had to be creative with available resources. If a development partner provides funding for a workshop to train women instead of only producing standard information, education, and communication (IEC) materials, we can also use that opportunity to create campaign T-shirts. This is simply the reality of the political landscape—while it is possible to tell women that they do not need T-shirts to campaign, their male counterparts will be everywhere with banners, posters, and branded materials. Women candidates cannot afford to be left behind in visibility.

    This is how we are innovative with development partner funding while organizing efforts to secure direct campaign financing. Running a political campaign is extremely expensive in Africa. In theory, Campaign finance regulations exist but are among the least enforced. There are legal limits on campaign spending, but these limits are routinely ignored, and little is done to address violations, especially during election periods.

    Beyond financial barriers, women also face election-related gender-based violence. During campaign seasons, women struggle the most to access financial support and campaign platforms. It is also the time when they are reminded of their family roles and their supposed “feminine nature,” often as a tactic to discourage them from running. Even when a woman has the opportunity to stand as a candidate, she must also navigate these societal pressures and cultural barriers.

    I completely understand and agree with women who say they feel over-skilled but lack the resources to compete effectively. 

    Jacobsen: It is like football—one may have the skills to play, but if they are competing against a team that has proper gear, including socks, boots, and training facilities, while they have none, it will never be a fair competition. It is a bit like a Tom Brady situation—being highly skilled but unable to access the necessary resources, forcing one to take work elsewhere, like at T-Mobile.

    One of the most surprising things I learned from that session was that Africa has both the lowest and the highest rates of political participation among women. The variance in participation across the continent is striking. Why is that? 

    Omondi-Adeitan: The type of leadership and the deliberate efforts of those in power play a critical role. Rwanda, for example, constantly sets the benchmark for Africa, as it has the highest percentage of women in parliament worldwide. However, this is not just about numbers—it is about the type of leadership and the purposeful, deliberate inclusion of women. President Paul Kagame has intentionally integrated women into leadership at all levels. His approach is strategic, from appointing women to his cabinet to ensuring strong female representation in parliament and public office.

    Finding similarly deliberate leaders across Africa remains a challenge. Why is this level of intention necessary? The answer lies in deep-seated socio-cultural norms. Many African societies have long been structured around male dominance in leadership. If a male leader is already in power, it often requires significant resources to shift his perception before he can even consider appointing women to his cabinet or other leadership positions. Research has confirmed that Rwanda’s success is not just about having policies—it is about the political will of the country’s leadership to implement those policies.

    Most African nations have policies mandating at least 30% female representation in government. However, implementation is inconsistent. Achieving gender parity requires a deliberate commitment from the highest levels of leadership. Without strong political will, these quotas remain theoretical rather than practical.

    Jacobsen: Which country has the lowest level of political participation, and what is the key factor behind it?

    Omondi-Adeitan: The biggest factor is cultural and religious influence. In some regions, religion plays a major role in shaping leadership norms. Certain interpretations of religious doctrines, whether in Islam or Christianity, reinforce the belief that women should not hold leadership positions.

    For example, countries with dominant Islamic or Catholic populations tend to have lower female political participation. However, the extent of women’s exclusion depends on how religion and culture intersect in different societies. It is not about the faith but how leadership roles are perceived within these religious frameworks.

    I know of a community in Kenya where male leaders formally convened a conference and collectively declared that their culture does not permit women to lead. They refused to support a female candidate, not because she lacked qualifications, but because leadership had always been seen as a male role. They eventually accepted a woman in office because the law required them to elect a female representative. So, what happens in such situations?

    Continuous sensitization and engagement are necessary for young people because their perceptions are already shifting. They are growing up in a slightly different cultural environment and are adapting more quickly to global norms.

    You previously asked Senator Reddy Kengueve about economics as the key factor, suggesting everything else flows from economic independence. Your question made sense, but our discussion now highlights that religion and traditionalism play an equally significant role. Economic independence is crucial, but deep-rooted religious and cultural traditions can sometimes outweigh economic considerations in determining women’s access to leadership.

    Jacobsen: What about policy and law? If a strong policy or law is in place, does that guarantee change, or is implementation still a major obstacle?

    Omondi-Adeitan: As I mentioned earlier, most African countries already have policies promoting women’s representation. I do not have the exact statistics, but almost every African country has a 30% female leadership quota. In theory, the framework is there. The problem is implementation and genuine commitment to enforcing these policies.

    Take the Maputo Protocol, for example—the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on Women’s Rights in Africa. This protocol mandates equal representation and explicitly calls for 50/50 gender parity. Almost all African nations have signed it, with only a few exceptions. Yet, despite this formal commitment, gender parity in political representation remains elusive.

    So, the real question is: If African countries have signed these agreements and adopted gender quotas, why is representation still so low? The answer is that policy alone does not guarantee change. It comes down to leadership and political will. The leaders in power decide whether or not policies are fully implemented.

    For example, if a president sees that an election has resulted in less than 30% female representation, they should take steps to nominate additional women to meet the quota. However, if the leadership lacks the commitment to act, the policy remains meaningless.

    Look at Botswana and Rwanda—two countries that have excelled in women’s political representation. Their success is not just due to laws but to leaders who actively enforce those laws. The problem is that leadership enforcement should not be necessary—the law itself should be enough. Unfortunately, in many cases, the implementation of gender policies depends on the goodwill of an individual leader rather than a systemic commitment to gender equality.

    This raises an important concern: What happens when a strong leader leaves office? For example, President Kagame of Rwanda has deliberated on promoting women’s leadership. But if something happened to him, would Rwanda’s gender progress be sustained, or would it regress? These are the challenges we face—ensuring that gender equality is embedded institutionally, not just dependent on individual leaders.

    Regarding laws and policies, most African countries are already clear on women’s representation. They have signed international protocols and legislation beyond national constitutions, committing to gender equality on paper.

    Jacobsen: If the linchpin of change is leadership, and the individuals with the most political control and decision-making power are men, what has been the catalyst for shifting the mentality of those men who have demonstrated the political will to align with the Maputo Protocol and existing gender policies?

    Omondi-Adeitan: One of the biggest catalysts for changing male leaders’ perspectives has been demonstrating the economic benefits of having women in leadership. We have learned—especially in Kenya—that the most effective way to convince governments to support women’s representation is to translate gender equality into economic value.

    When women’s leadership is framed in economic terms, governments stop and listen. This is how we secured the women’s representation seats in Kenya. Unfortunately, the reality is that money talks, and when gender equality is shown to be economically beneficial, male leaders are more likely to take action.

    No country can afford to leave half its population behind and still expect strong economic growth. The evidence is clear—economies that actively include women in leadership perform better than those that do not. That economic proof has been a key strategy for influencing decision-makers.

    Beyond policy advocacy, FAWE believes in starting early. We do not only work with girls—we also engage boys to normalize women’s leadership from a young age. If we instill these values early, future generations will not have to fight the same battles.

    I want to believe that by the time my 11-year-old daughter and my 4-year-old daughter reach my age, their struggles will be different. Their debates will no longer be about whether women deserve a seat at the table—instead, they will engage in intellectual discussions about policy and governance rather than basic representation.

    We are working hard to change perceptions early so that the next generation does not have to fight for what should already be accepted.

    Jacobsen: Thank you for your time.

    Omondi-Adeitan: Thanks, I appreciate it.

    Last updated May 3, 2025. These terms govern all In Sight Publishing content—past, present, and future—and supersede any prior notices. In Sight Publishing by Scott Douglas Jacobsen is licensed under a Creative Commons BY‑NC‑ND 4.0; © In Sight Publishing by Scott Douglas Jacobsen 2012–Present. All trademarks, performances, databases & branding are owned by their rights holders; no use without permission. Unauthorized copying, modification, framing or public communication is prohibited. External links are not endorsed. Cookies & tracking require consent, and data processing complies with PIPEDA & GDPR; no data from children < 13 (COPPA). Content meets WCAG 2.1 AA under the Accessible Canada Act & is preserved in open archival formats with backups. Excerpts & links require full credit & hyperlink; limited quoting under fair-dealing & fair-use. All content is informational; no liability for errors or omissions: Feedback welcome, and verified errors corrected promptly. For permissions or DMCA notices, email: [email protected]. Site use is governed by BC laws; content is “as‑is,” liability limited, users indemnify us; moral, performers’ & database sui generis rights reserved.

    #CulturalResistance #EarlyEmpowerment #genderParity #PoliticalWill #WomenSLeadership

  6. Unblinking

    Unbeirrter Blick. Drei Hände rahmen ein Gesicht – zwischen Schutz und Ausgesetztsein.
    Unblinking (2025) – ein Porträt in Öl, das nicht wegsehen will: Zivilcourage, Wachsamkeit, Verantwortung.
    Aus der Serie Generation Courage.
    📷 Mehr dazu: corneliaessaid.de/project/unbl

    #ZeitgenössischeKunst #OilPainting #Porträt #Zivilcourage #Kunst #ContemporaryArt #GenerationCourage #BerlinArt #Malerei #FineArt #ArtCollectors #VisualArt #CulturalResistance #ArtForChange

  7. Inaugural Chicano Hollywood Film Festival launches July 17-20 in Pomona, showcasing 90+ films celebrating Chicano storytelling, resistance, and cultural identity. A powerful platform for underrepresented voices in entertainment. #ChicanoFilm #CulturalResistance

  8. 🔴 JOIN US TODAY!
    Shadows of Illiberalism continues in Berlin with:
    🧠 Bifo on Exhaustion & Hyper-Colonialism
    🎨 Panel on art & activism in HU, PL & SK
    🎟️ disruptionlab.org/shadows-of-illiberalism
    #DNL35 #CulturalResistance #Berlin

  9. 🔴 Shadows of Illiberalism brings together artists, researchers & activists to confront the rise of the radical right in Europe — from culture wars to AI propaganda. JOIN US!
    🗓️ June 13–15 · Berlin
    🎟️ disruptionlab.org/shadows-of-illiberalism

    #DNL35 #RadicalRight #CulturalResistance #Berlin

  10. Una riflessione sul populismo becero e l'ignoranza cieca.

    “Resistenza culturale contro il populismo e la deriva autoritaria”

    Grazie 🦔

    🌹

    A reflection on crude populism and blind ignorance.

    “Cultural resistance against populism and authoritarian drift”

    Thank you 🦔

    #resistenzaculturale  #populismo #autoritarismo  #ignoranza  #libertàdipensiero
    #culturalresistance  #populism #authoritarianism  #ignorance

    michiyospace.altervista.org/re

  11. Reviving Culture Through Art: ‘The Seeder’ Marks Lithuania’s First Legal Street Art Masterpiece

    The first legalized piece of street art in Lithuania In 2008, Lithuanian artist Morfai initiated an unauthorized stencil project titled “The Seeder” on the wall of the Vytautas the Great War Museum in Kaunas. The artwork, sadly, was painted over and its accompanying spotlight redirected, likely due to the traditional views of a local architect. Despite its initial obscurity, the image gained international recognition, notably appearing on a Russian TV game show, which sparked […]

    streetartutopia.com/2024/05/11

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