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by Sylphia Basak for The 44 North, Contributing Writer - Politics


Via Getty Images
Via Getty Images

Editor's Note:


The following article reflects the views & analysis of the author. As with all opinion and essay submissions, the piece has been edited for clarity and reviewed carefully for factual accuracy, but the interpretations & arguments are the author’s own. The 44 North publishes an array of perspectives & voices to encourage and ensure thoughtful engagement with complex social, political, historical, and cultural issues.


"Those who refer to these uprisings as pure violence miss protestors removing barricades for ambulances and firetrucks. It ignores men pulling women from detention buses, or handing looted groceries to the unhoused and period products to women. [...] In other words, this revolution, like all which came before it, has been driven by unparalleled, profound love."

For the second consecutive weekend, protests around the world have mobilized en masse whilst police and government forces continue to crack down on dissenters. October 24th saw nearly a million demonstrators walking the streets of France. Protests in Italy, Serbia, Albania, and more all eclipsed hundreds of thousands, followed by sweeping mass arrests and tens of thousands of riot police deployed. 


At the time of writing and publication, protests have erupted across several European countries: France, Spain, Italy, Albania, Serbia, Greece, Poland, Romania, and Cyprus. 


(A non-exhaustive list via Dazed below):



Initially dubbed the “Europe Spring” by journalist Ahmed Eldin, this recent tidal wave of dis-ease appears to have started in France, led by students protesting cuts to education. In tandem with other movements across Europe, it wasn’t long before the momentum spurred on other countries, inviting their people to respond in solidarity—channelling anger, rage, tension, and frustration.


According to on-the-ground accounts, protests in France escalated following an incident where a police officer fired a stun grenade into the crowd, resulting in a 15-year-old boy losing his hand. On October 17th, a nationwide call for mobilization resulted in citizens across France marching, barricading, playing music, and yes, eventually, rioting. 


Evidently, there is something to be said about October’s chill and its ability to ignite the revolutionary spirit. The days shorten and darken, and the people, at long last, feel their anguish is seen by something other than themselves. Political establishments have been stacking reasons to enact uprisings for as long as this generation has been alive, but certainly much longer:


The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) have been systematically implementing ethnic cleansing campaigns of religious minorities across India. Italy's far-right government has implemented several austerity-based policies which have rendered grocery shelves empty. Protests in Spain started over an 87-year-old woman’s eviction, her death following shortly after. Serbian and Albanian youth have long been protesting corruption in their governments. The systemic violence of these political institutions has cumulatively caused the deaths of millions and harm to millions more, both in their countries and abroad. It has ravaged our environment to the point of near inhabitability, and yet, it is our response which is deemed by politicians and legacy media as “violent.” 


Via Getty Images
Via Getty Images

Retaliation to violence is often used as justification for increasingly harsh police/military state tactics, and this recent onset of protests is no different. Marseille, Lyon, and Nice have now imposed curfews and a partial ban on protesting, while the Italian government is considering using biometric glasses to surveil crowds. Thousands in India have been arrested.


The narrative formed by politicians and far-right figures across the (Western) world has attempted to name Black and Brown immigrants as the primary culprits of rioting and looting. U.S. president Donald Trump was quoted saying, “...(France) a once-great country has been “conquered, looted, and burned to the ground by migrants, jihadists, and communists.” (Guardian)


French president Emmanuel Macron referred to October 17th as violent acts of “left-wing extremism.”


Of course, the narrative that immigrants are responsible for the riots contradicts uprisings in countries such as Albania and Serbia, which are significantly more racially homogeneous (white). These protests have gone largely under-reported. 


Despite a rather clear throughline between protests—namely, austerity budget cuts to public services such as education and health, government corruption, and foreign (American) interference in policy—there seems to be a concerted effort to report them as isolated, disjointed acts of violence, rather than a response to the conditions of living under a Colonial-Capitalist system. 


Headlines from legacy media reveal biased language favouring the narratives of their affiliated political establishments, leading with violence against the state and destruction of property. Before any additional context, “Unrest”, “looting”, and “violence” are terms used by the Financial Times (FT), Washington Post (WaPo), and New York Times (NYT) to describe the uprisings. However, true to precedent in mainstream reporting on left-wing/anti-imperialist political movements, invoking the imagery of “violence” is somehow never applied to what precedes the civil unrest.


A data report by NewsCord demonstrates this skewing of language and reporting from legacy media organizations throughout the protests:



As attested to by on-the-ground accounts, the organizers and demonstrators of these protests understand these existing contradictions, which is perhaps why legacy media has made such a vehement effort to discredit the nature of these protests.


Pictured are examples of some of the headlines used by Western media outlets:


There is and has always been a concerted effort to diminish the impact of Gen-Z protests and political organizations across the world. The youth of today are besmirched as “lazy” or increasingly conservative, likely as a means of discouragement from organizing in community. As such, many strides toward progress that our generation has made are delegitimized—even by our own. However, the reality is—clear by all on-the-ground accounts—that these protests have proven themselves to be incredibly well-organized, initiated by Gen Z’s “laziness.” That precision of organization and execution can only come from a thoughtful, acute awareness of economic strain that led to these protests.

 

Globally, the cost of living has, on average, risen 4.3% as of August 2026, while the minimum living wage has, on average, remained stagnant over the last 20 years; about 45% of countries experienced stagnation in minimum wages. Of course, this has exacerbated an already towering cost of living globally and contributed to fuel shortages.


Further, a notable double standard in reporting and general rhetoric around property and tourism fuels the incrimination of Gen-Z-led protests. Destruction of historic buildings is “blasphemous” in France and Italy, but a “byproduct of war” in Palestine, Lebanon, Iran, etc. Those who hand-wring over the disruption of their luxury travel and vacations too easily forget a citizen's right to quality of life. 


For some, the entitlement that the state and certain sub-sections of the population feel toward comfort—while basic infrastructure literally and figuratively crumbles—has harkened back to testimonies of life in Israel-Occupied Palestine. In fact, the conditions which catalyzed Europe-wide protests are a direct result of Western nations channelling taxpayer money into military and war campaigns throughout West Asia. For example, and more specifically: The targeting of Yemen and Iran, which resulted in the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz or the Yemeni Houthis’ (Ansar Allah) continued targeting of Saudi Arabian oil tankers as defence. These have resulted in oil prices ballooning to unprecedented levels—a 60% climb since the war with Iran began (New York Times).


As organized as states have been, so too have protests. 


Via Getty Images
Via Getty Images

Leading up to the October 24th protest in Paris, a comprehensive map and schedule coordinating the time and locations of protests throughout the city was created and posted to social media. There is a day shift and a night shift. There are legal aid and medical workers. There is class and national solidarity unseen in recent memory. An Albanian protester spoke of his regular contact with Serbians. Students of better-funded schools across France protested alongside those attending school in underfunded areas of the country. 


Those who refer to these uprisings as pure violence miss protestors removing barricades for ambulances and fire trucks. It ignores men pulling women from detention buses, or handing looted groceries to the unhoused and period products to women. It ignores the fact that these protests have been organized and sustained by a disenfranchised youth and working class who have spent their lives surviving chronic catastrophe. This generation’s coming of age is defined by political, social, economic, and environmental turmoil. It seems inevitable that there would come a day when that momentum cannot be quelled. 


In other words, this revolution, like all which came before it, has been driven by unparalleled, profound love.


Much to the chagrin of many world leaders—Trump, Macron, and Marine Le Pen—these protests have catalyzed tangible results. 


Serbia’s Aleksander Vucic has stepped down after 14 years, and the student party has taken the majority of parliament seats. Brazil has successfully re-elected Lula Da-Silva over far-right candidate and former president Flavio Bolsonaro, despite American interference. The French government has pledged funding for schools and admissions overhauls, contradicting the finger-wagging of mainstream political establishments, who did their best—in earnest—to convince the world that riots don’t work. 


Protests in Italy and Spain continue over food and cost of living prices, including riots cropping up in Bilbao, while protests across Asian and Latin American countries have sustained their cadence despite government repression. 


Via Getty Images
Via Getty Images

And while, yes, our movements have not achieved the long-lasting systemic changes we hoped for (yet), there has been an undeniably seismic shift in our social fabric: Against global capitalism, imperialism, in the increased support for police reform and abolition, in the embracing of queer identities, etc. Through movements such as Black Lives Matter and student encampments in support of Palestinian sovereignty, our generation has (re)exposed many of the chasms in social infrastructure. We would be remiss to act as though that counts for nothing—especially as youth around the world continue to revolt. 


As the U.K., several European countries, and the Japanese government urge their citizens to stockpile essential supplies, alongside Iran issuing instructions in the event of a nuclear attack, it is clear that Western leaders show no signs of relenting on war. As the price of essentials continues to increase and public services continue to be cut, protests against using taxpayer money for unnecessary war (all to avoid holding an apartheid state accountable for genocide) will continue to serve a vital purpose. 


Protests are meant to disrupt the social order until authority has no choice but to concede to the demands of the public. Establishments would render us cynical and distrusting of our neighbours, unable to imagine a world where we stand arm in arm, united against a common enemy, for this exact reason. 


Should coverage of these protests or any future ones halt, it will not be because protest and dissent have stopped. For as long as the root causes of these protests do not relent, neither will they. We should hope that action remains sustained. Otherwise, the alternative is a world in which a ruling class is entitled to enact perpetual catastrophe in exchange for the remaining power on a burning planet. Protests have proven effective, and we, as a generation, have proven we can change this world for the better.  


Additional Sources:


Sylphia Basak is a journalist/writer and activist who uses a variety of mediums to convey the story she wants to tell. Her work prioritizes a decolonial lens, and seeks to counteract and analyze Western media and culture as a way of highlighting the primary contradictions of the current political climate.


by Asante Haughton for The 44 North, Emotional Health Editor, Contributing Writer, and Host of Life Outside the Box


This essay is the third in a three-part project on modern-day misogyny. You can read our introduction and the other two essays by Jeff Perera and Cole Martin in our October-November 2026 issue, or follow our newsletter to receive them directly in your inbox.



When I first heard about the “rape academy” web networks, I was shocked that such a thing could exist. Surely, as a society, we couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow something like this to fester. However, not only did it exist, but as I learned after a quick Google search, it was an extensive community that had proliferated for years before being ‘exposed.’ I put ‘exposed’ in quotations because this community of men, who traded strategies on how to incapacitate women without their knowledge to perform sex acts or other acts of humiliation, operated openly. This wasn’t happening in the shadowed back alleys of the internet, but right under its streetlights, roots above ground and unmasked. All we had to do to find it was look. So why, as a society, weren’t we looking?


When it comes to child protection, the watchful eye of society is perpetually alert. As such, the networks of individuals that seek to harm children operate underground, carefully concealed from the gaze of bystanders and the law. Even when we look, it’s hard to find them.


By contrast, as reported by CNN, the “rape academy” and other similar networks branched out rather publicly on the Telegram messaging app, as well as multiple popular porn sites (that I have made the decision not to mention here). Why weren’t they hiding? There is a reason they didn’t even bother.


The most obvious answer is sobering: They didn’t need to. Nobody was looking. And it’s not because the need to look wasn’t there. 


According to a 2025 Statistics Canada report, 49% of women aged 25 to 34 have experienced at least one sexual assault. In 91% of these cases, the perpetrator was a man. 


We should have been looking.


That we weren’t, or that we were too slow,  says something about whose safety society deems urgent: We didn’t find it important enough to look; we don’t value women enough in our society to look. This is a pervasive cultural problem.


And it leaves us with two issues to tackle.


In the immediate term, we must do everything we can to prevent online communities housing men who harm women from operating. One idea is to expand the breadth of Canada’s Mandatory Reporting Act. Currently, this act requires internet service providers to report to law enforcement any IP addresses or web domains where child sexual abuse and exploitation material is suspected to be available. This act needs to adopt similar mandates obligating internet service providers to report when cyber spaces depicting or facilitating harm toward women are found. To ensure these mandates are followed, government officials and policymakers should levy painful fines upon internet service providers who neglect to comprehensively regulate user activities, particularly if such neglect leads to harm or could feasibly lead to harm against women via their networks. Actions such as these could catalyze further prevention approaches,  halting online communities promoting violence against women from taking root.


In the longer term, we as a society must address the seed that threatens to take root in the first place. It’s vital that we eviscerate patriarchal pedagogies that position a devastating normalization: That women are vessels whose most important function is to serve men—instrumentally, sexually, or otherwise. We must then replace these deeply embedded societal beliefs with notions that consider women to have inherent worth equal to all other human beings. In simpler terms, we need to enact a complete cultural overhaul to address misogyny—the kind that teaches scores of men that exploiting women physically and emotionally is acceptable, as well as the kind that doesn’t value them enough to write measures that would protect them from exploitation online (or elsewhere) into law.


Platform design, regulation, recommendation systems, and legal profit incentives can all be interrogated, excavated, and revised as such to better reflect what we value—once we commit, decisively, to valuing it out in the open. That’s where men who harm women are circulating violence and expressing what they don’t value. We need to confront them there with what we do. 


If we say protect all women, our values and actions as a society need to demonstrate that we mean it. 

by Cole Martin for The 44 North, Contributing Writer - Politics


This essay is the second in a three-part project on modern-day misogyny. You can read our introduction and the other two essays by Jeff Perera and Asante Haughton in our October-November 2026 issue, or follow our newsletter to receive them directly in your inbox.


"Tears of Blood" by Oswaldo Guayasamín
"Tears of Blood" by Oswaldo Guayasamín

There’s a quote from the late French philosopher Simone Weil that’s been reverberating in my head ever since reading the harrowing CNN article: 


“To exclude human beings […] thrusting them down to the state of social outcasts […] this is to sever every bond of poetry and love between human beings and the universe. […] We all have a share by our complicity in an almost innumerable quantity of such crimes. If only we could understand, it should wring tears of blood from us.” (Weil, pg. 116.)


Though written almost a century ago, this quote unfortunately remains relevant. For me, it distills division, the damage that ensues when arbitrary partitions are erected, and the ways—consciously and unconsciously—that we participate in such partitions daily. It denotes the same trodden bond that Perera refers to in his piece: “When women become disposable property—possessions to toy with like a doll—we’ve crossed a line and left our humanity behind.”


Still, most of us know we’re letting one another down. Twenty-four-seven, we’re bombarded with our failures on the news, on social media, and on the street. Yet, instead of driving us to course-correct, we seem intent on siloing and perpetuating the same harmful paradigms that have plagued humanity for millennia. Why is that? 


Some would invoke “human nature” to explain our shortcomings, taking it as self-evident that humans are designed to dominate one another. For others, typically “manosphere” types, domination is justified via syllogism: Humans are animals; the animal kingdom is hierarchical; therefore humans are hierarchical.


Supplementing their argument is the fact that the logic of domination and its systemic forms (patriarchy, capitalism, fascism, etc.) pervade human history. In one of her essays, the aforementioned Weil turned to Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War to provide an archaic example of this logic in action. “Athenians,” she recounted, “wanted to force the inhabitants of the little island of Melos […] to join with them. The men of Melos, faced with the ultimatum of the Athenians, invoked justice, imploring pity for the antiquity of their town.” The Athenians then “razed [Melos] to the ground, put all their men to death, and sold all their women and children as slaves.” 


According to Thucydides, the Athenians justified their barbarism thusly: “We have the belief […] that always, by a necessity of nature, each one commands wherever he has the power. We did not establish this law […] we found it already established, we abide by it as something likely to endure forever.” (Weil, pg. 86.)


Weil used this analogy to argue for a dualism between what she called “natural justice” (that of the natural world and, in her example, the Athenians) and “supernatural justice” (humanity’s ability to transcend or negate nature; i.e., the appeal of the Melians). Her commitment to Christianity meant that Weil believed the latter was possible thanks to divinity; however, the duality holds even with religion removed from the picture: Humans can be competitive, cruel, and dominant, yes, but we can also be compassionate, loving, and communal. We eat, sleep, and reproduce, but we also love, grieve, make music, paint, write, etc.


In his 2021 book, Humankind: A Hopeful History, Historian Rutger Bregman presented a similar reassessment of human nature. Analyzing various anthropological and historical sources, Bregman theorized that humanity’s cooperative instinct was chiefly responsible for its early flourishing in the natural world, troubling the long-standing, cynical narrative that humans are innately egotistical and brutal (the hugely influential view espoused by seventeenth-century philosopher Thomas Hobbes). “Civilisation has become synonymous with peace and progress, and wilderness with war and decline. In reality, for most of human existence, it was the other way around.” (Bregman, pg. 112.)


The complicated truth is that human nature encompasses all of these facets, the positive and the negative, simultaneously; it’s not a monolith. We’re contradictory, incongruous, and, as Walt Whitman tokenized, “[We] are large, [We] contain multitudes.” 


There is undoubtedly freedom to this fluidity, but also danger, for if there is no fixed human nature, then one is constantly subject to influence. The question is: How do we encourage the compassionate, empathetic capacity of humanity rather than the base, animalistic one? 


It’s a quagmire—most people are just trying to survive late capitalism, let alone reserve time and energy for others or endeavour to educate themselves on complex politics/socio-economics. Patriarchal capitalism relies on this fatigue to propagate itself, disseminating reductive beliefs about the way the world is or ought to be to sow division and maintain exploitative power dynamics. For most, it’s comforting to believe the world adheres to the rules of the jungle, because it means they don’t need to exert much effort to understand or change it; all it takes is an appeal to history or a nod to the television to reduce all of humanity to dog-eat-dog. If unchallenged, these beliefs calcify into dogma to be passed on to younger generations. 


So, how do we challenge these ideologies? I won’t purport to have all the answers, but I believe that combating an ideology—especially one as resilient and entrenched as patriarchy—necessitates paying attention to the symptoms, the ostensibly benign ways that it infiltrates everyday life. The primary inheritors and perpetrators of patriarchy—men—need to learn to identify these patterns if they are to properly challenge its programming (see Jeff’s piece!)


One of these symptoms, and one that disproportionately affects boys and men, is literacy—lack thereof, rather. While reading in general has consistently declined over the years, there is an ever-widening gender and genre disparity. The reasons for this are undoubtedly varied, but I feel confident claiming this phenomenon is deeply linked to the ongoing attacks against arts and humanities in Canada and other parts of the world. 


It’s easy to understand why a system of domination wouldn’t want its subjects to be well-read: A population that doesn’t read is easier to control, as they are less likely to think critically about a government, institution, or individual’s role in society, making organizing difficult (which is why governments love to ban books!) Further, having men engage solely in the types of books that produce productive workers (e.g. self-improvement and “mindset” books) is clearly beneficial to an exploitative system. 


"Tears Of Blood" by Marina Petro
"Tears Of Blood" by Marina Petro

Illiteracy is programmed in more covert ways than book bans and library closures, however. A recent example is the “performative male” trend that consumed social media a few months ago, which involved satirizing a specific archetype of “bro”—one who posts candid pictures of themselves reading Infinite Jest or Bell Hooks on a cafe terrace, typically sipping a matcha latte and languidly smoking a cigarette. 


While this trend was admittedly funny (it’s always nice to get some barbs in on this mode of pretension), and I'm by no means conflating it with the daily harms experienced by women, or with the severity of the CNN article, I think the underlying patriarchal notions within this phenomenon warrant examination. 


For example, the trend (explicitly or implicitly, depending on the case) derided men for reading fiction and/or feminist theory, two things already deemed emasculating and a waste of time by popular masculinity. But what’s of most concern are the knock-on effects: One can imagine the plethora of young people scrolling TikTok at the height of the trend who have now internalized the message that they should never read such books… certainly not in public, lest they be labelled “performative” or “cringe” by the social media masses. 


This form of conditioning is exemplary of how patriarchal capitalism exerts control not only through overt economic and political means, but on an interpersonal, psycho-social level, such that society restricts, represses, and polices itself. 


A more productive critique of masculinity, in my opinion, is to demonstrate to boys and men the breadth of masculine expression possible, to widen our collective conception of what a “man” is by challenging the prevailing myths of masculinity (while being cautious not to enforce them obliquely).


Fiction is incredibly instructive to this end (which explains its deterrence). Absorbing narrative through literature, film, TV, video games, etc. can be a fantastic way to broaden our concepts and survey our societal and individual values, as it allows us to inhabit the other in ways our day-to-day experiences don’t permit (I consider this the genesis of empathy). And the more tools in your toolkit, the better equipped you’ll be to understand yourself and your surroundings, and the sharper your image of the world becomes. “The work of writers […] They give us, in the guise of fiction, something equivalent to the actual density of the real.” (Weil, pg. 15.) 


It’s clear that our collective attitude towards learning needs to change as well. Under capitalism, learning is essentially utilitarian; many people consider their learning complete when they finish school and enter the workforce. However, I’m in the camp that considers learning a lifelong project. We live in a dynamic world, and we ourselves need to be dynamic to keep up with it. One of the things that makes humans so special is our capacity for change, to absorb new information and integrate it. Our goal should be to embrace this aspect of ourselves, embrace our curiosity about the world and the possibilities it could encompass—embrace difference, and the multitudes we can hold within. “What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives.” (Ursula K. Le Guin.) 


So, as obvious as it sounds: boys and men need to read more, and be more curious! 


***


Oscar Wilde once asked, “Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to.” The subtext, in Wilde’s case, was his queerness—yielding to his sexual “temptation” towards men ultimately led to his conviction, exile, and death. But his statement holds a universal truth: People are, I think (and Bregman/Weil argue), largely tempted to do good; most people have an intuitive sense of the right thing to do, and seldom do they set out with the explicit intention to harm. Yet to actually reify that desire, to act on it, sometimes requires—as Wilde said—strength and courage, especially when contemporary society so heavily incentivizes individualism.


Our way forward is to help each other do the homework. This means those who have bandwidth must step up to bridge the gap for others. Towards this goal, I think everyone would benefit from simply pausing and asking ourselves, ‘Day to day, where is my attention going? How can I better treat the people I interface with as ends in themselves, instead of means to an end?’ “The good the truly good do has no end in view.” (Lao Tzu.) 


That minute, seemingly insignificant interval between thought and action can be utterly transformative. The more you navigate your life with intention, the more you will notice the myriad ways we’ve been trained to reduce the world to simple statements, and other people to single characteristics. As Weil said, “Where there is no room for reflection, there is none either for justice or prudence […] That halt, that interval of hesitation, wherein lies all our consideration for our brothers in humanity.” (Weil, The Iliad, or the Poem of Force, pg. 14-15.) 


If we can work to undo the individualist, agonistic ideologies instilled in us by our institutions, media, and politics, and shift towards a sense of responsibility for one another, I think we have a real chance at dispelling the many myths espoused by patriarchal capitalism, and perhaps even oppression itself. We must resist the urge to strip the world of nuance in order to falsely simplify it. Instead, we must strive to widen our concepts so that they better reflect the whole of humanity. “We are living in times that have no precedent, and in our present situation universality […] has to be fully explicit. It has to permeate our language and the whole of our way of life.” (Weil, pg. 51.) 


It is crucial that we demonstrate to boys and men that true strength stems from the courage to care for the other, not their subordination. As Leslie Fielder writes in the introduction to Weil’s Waiting for God, “The most terrible of crimes is to collaborate in the uprooting of others in an already alienated world; but the greatest of virtues is to uproot oneself for the sake of one’s neighbors.” (Weil, pg. x.)


Part of that uprooting is choosing to look. The next article in this triad, by Asante Haughton, asks directly why we—particularly at a federal law policy level—haven’t been looking. In terms of internet regulation and safety, he wonders why we’ve so long turned away, seemingly deeming women unworthy of our collective protection. To me, this is another symptom of a society lacking the depth of attention, witness, and care. I believe we can change that.


The further one’s humanity deepens, the more imperative it becomes to “people” others by recognizing and acknowledging that same depth in them. Once that intersubjective connection blossoms, seeing the mistreatment of others, whether in person, on the other side of the world, or even behind a screen, should, as Weil said, “wring tears of blood from us.” 


Bibliography


  • Weil, Simone. Waiting for God. Translated by Emma Craufurd, HarperCollins Publishers, 2009.

  • Bregman, Rutger. Humankind: A Hopeful History. Back Bay Books, 2019.


Cole Martin is a writer from Atlantic Canada. He can be found on Bluesky @coleboy.bsky.social 

 

 




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