Latest news with #defiance
Mail & Guardian
16-07-2025
- Politics
- Mail & Guardian
Red beret, red cap: The wearers are populists that offer theatre, not solutions
Whether storming the Capitol or staging walkouts in parliament, rama of defiance often takes precedence over the slow work of governance. Graphic: John McCann/M&G When Donald Trump launched his 2016 campaign, he electrified a disillusioned electorate with three words, 'Make America Great Again.' That bright red cap became a symbol of defiance against globalism, multiculturalism and liberal consensus. Thousands of miles away, in a vastly different context, Julius Malema dons a red beret and declares South Africa for South Africans. He promises land without compensation, nationalisation of financial institutions and the dismantling of entrenched economic powers. The context and audience may differ but are we watching the same populist theatrics under different lights? It would be tempting to see these two figures as ideological opposites. One draws from the language of conservative nationalism, the other from radical, post-colonial liberation. But peel back the surface and a more unsettling truth emerges that despite their differences, both movements are powered by a similar engine, one that thrives on discontent, sharp binaries and the relentless search for someone to blame. In both cases, the nation is portrayed as having been betrayed by elites, hijacked by outsiders and stripped of its rightful identity. The red cap and the red beret become more than symbols, they are uniforms of resistance. But resistance to what? And in service of whom? The economic message, though packaged differently, often rests on the same populist foundations that the system has failed citizens, and only bold, uncompromising intervention can restore justice. Although that argument has merit, especially in the wake of rising inequality and deepening mistrust in democratic institutions, the solutions offered are often blunt, simplistic interventions that appeal to the emotions but seldom hold up to the complexities of modern economies. Such movements reduce the economy to a zero-sum game. In other words, for one group to win, another must lose. Redistribution becomes a battlefield, not a process of repair. Economic justice is stripped of nuance and transformed into a chant, ready for mass mobilisation but not for structural policy. Behind the populist fervour lies another crucial dynamic, the nature of leadership itself. Populist figures often present themselves not just as representatives, but as embodiments of the people's will. Performance becomes the goal. Whether it's storming the Capitol or staging walkouts in parliament, the drama of defiance often takes precedence over the slow work of governance. But real change requires more than charisma, it demands character. Leadership that transforms must go beyond volume and spectacle. It must mobilise across difference, acknowledge complexity and create room for multiple voices to shape the future. And here is where the question of inclusion and belonging becomes central. Populist movements claim to speak for 'the people', but often narrow the definition of who 'the people' are and in turn they reinforce exclusion. True leadership understands that dignity must be extended to all. A society fractured by inequality does not need more division, it needs healing built on justice. This also demands reflection from within. In South Africa, some of the loudest admirers of American-style populism come from quarters that simultaneously dismiss South Africa's potential. There's a troubling trend among certain white South Africans who replicate US right-wing talking points, lament decline and frame their homeland as irredeemable, all while ignoring the cracks in the system they idealise. Fuelling much of this sentiment is a steady diet of outrage-driven content on platforms such as X, where curated feeds reward polarisation at the cost of perspective. Many opinions are dressed up as informed critique but are little more than algorithm-fed bias. And populist theatre thrives in this vacuum. But the contradiction runs deeper. The same voices that criticise transformation policies such as broad-based black economic empowerment or land reform are silent when American politicians call for immigrants to be expelled or barred from owning land. Why is it acceptable for the US to control access to its economy, but a crisis when South Africa tries to ensure its citizens benefit from economic activity? Why is redistribution condemned in the Global South, but protectionism celebrated in the Global North? This double standard is exposed when the US imposes 30% tariffs on South African exports, based on flawed claims of trade imbalance. Ironically, these punitive measures harm the very white farmers and exporters who often criticise transformation while relying on global markets. When global populism turns inward, it punishes those who once championed its simplicity. Just recently, South Africa joined Brics leaders in Brazil to call for a more balanced global order and again this summit was dismissed by some in the West as subversive. The irony is that those who champion sovereignty in the Global North are often the first to panic when the Global South asserts its own. These contradictions were made more stark when Trump recently praised African leaders for 'speaking good English'. That patronising remark, delivered without irony, reflects how African leadership is viewed, not as equal but as novelty. Which raises the question: why do some South Africans admire a man who sees the continent through a colonial gaze? Equally concerning is the defence of the indefensible. Governance failures, collapsing infrastructure, endemic corruption and basic service failure are too often excused in the name of loyalty to liberation movements or fear of empowering reactionary forces. In the face of dysfunction, silence becomes complicity. Recently, the KwaZulu-Natal police commissioner publicly accused the police minister of obstructing investigations into political assassinations and colluding with criminal syndicates. When senior police officials feel compelled to blow the whistle, it is no longer a partisan concern, it is a national emergency; one which the president should not be taking his time to act on. It is also worth asking why transformation in the public sector is tolerated, or ignored, while the same policies provoke outrage in the private sector. No one raises the alarm when our police force is overwhelmingly black, or when employment equity guides public hiring. But when companies are asked to diversify boardrooms, the cry of 'reverse racism' grows loud. Racial representation becomes a problem only when capital is at stake. South Africa's post-apartheid promise was bold: justice, equality and prosperity for all. While millions are still trapped in poverty, that promise remains unmet. And the longer we defend incompetence out of fear or nostalgia, the further we drift from that vision. And yet, something revealing happens when the national rugby or cricket team wins. Divides soften, flags wave with pride and a fractured nation briefly remembers its potential to act as one. But unity built on sport alone is fleeting. It cannot compensate for economic exclusion or governance failure. A nation cannot live on symbolic victories; it must deliver real ones. Perhaps what connects the red hat and the red beret is not ideology, but shared desperation. Both movements arise from real fractures. But rage alone does not rebuild a nation. Leadership that thrives on division ultimately breaks the very societies it claims to protect. In moments like these, we must return to deeper questions. What does it mean to lead with virtue? What does it mean to be excellent, not merely in achievement, but in character? For Aristotle, excellence (aretē) was not a title claimed or a performance staged. It was a habit, a way of being anchored in reason, justice and the pursuit of the common good. It required phronesis, practical wisdom, to discern what is right not only for oneself, but for one's polis. Populism seduces us with certainty. But a virtuous democracy demands patience, humility and courage. The leaders we need are not those who amplify anger, but those who ask harder questions. What is owed to others? How do we build a society in which dignity is not rationed? How do we move from appearances of greatness to the practice of justice? We should not be seduced by boldness that masks shallow thinking. Nor should we mistake disruption for direction. The leaders we need must be courageous enough to listen, humble enough to admit uncertainty and wise enough to build, not with applause, but with purpose. In the end, the red hat and the red beret may not be so different. Both reflect societies searching for coherence in chaos. But if we are to move from theatre to meaning, we must return to virtue as the discipline of building something better. A democracy animated by virtue is not forged through volume, but through vision and ultimately delivered by us as citizens in service of each other. Professor Armand Bam is the head of Social Impact at Stellenbosch Business School.
Daily Mail
14-07-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mail
Martyr, Savior, Showman: Key details in Trump's iconic Butler assassination survival photo... that expert says suggests divine intervention
A raised fist, a bloodied face and the steely gaze of a man who'd just dodged death - in that split second, Donald Trump didn't just survive an assassination attempt, he made history. Captured in the chaos that followed the July 13, 2024, shooting at a campaign rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, was a photo of an injured Trump that spread instantly. To the untrained eye, it looked like a dramatic moment frozen in time – a shocking visual of survival and defiance. But according to W.J.T. Mitchell, a leading image theorist and professor at the University of Chicago, the image is packed with visual cues that plug straight into Trump's mythology - blending martyrdom, media mastery and spectacle in a single shot. 'Not every image becomes historical, right? 'And the reason this one did is because it's accompanied by a whole mythology around Trump that has been firmly installed,' Mitchell told the Daily Mail. On the first anniversary of the shooting, Mitchell breaks down four minuscule but telling details in that photo and what they reveal. Scholar W.J.T. Mitchell says there are four key details in the photo that together transform the moment into a powerful visual narrative of strength, survival, and spectacle: the blood on Trump's face, the raised fist, his central placement in the frame, and his direct look toward the camera Mitchell (pictured) said the power of that infamous picture was no accident 1. The blood on his face isn't just real, it's ritual Mitchell says the most immediate detail is also the most symbolically loaded: a streak of blood on Trump's face. Rather than retreat or hide, Trump leans into it, presenting his injury to the crowd and the cameras like a badge of honor. 'He has the presence of mind to defy the Secret Service, to leap up, show his face and make himself a spectacle,' said Mitchell. 'The blood makes him look not weak, but heroic, as if he's just walked out of battle.' In Christian iconography, the blood of the martyr is sacred - proof of suffering endured for a greater cause. And Mitchell says that for many in Trump's base that visual message wasn't lost. 'They saw it as clear visual evidence that he is the chosen one,' Mitchell added. 'That God protected him. That he suffered, but survived.' Trump lifts himself above his Secret Service protectors - a move Mitchell says reflects his refusal to be concealed, and his instinctive need to dominate the frame W.J.T. Mitchell (pictured), a leading image theorist and professor at the University of Chicago, spoke to the Daily Mail about the iconic image from Trump's assassination attempt 2. The raised fist signals invulnerability and reven g e Within seconds of the bullet grazing his ear, Trump throws up his right fist and shouts 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' It's not a gesture of fear, it's dominance, Mitchell says. 'He raises his fist with blood still on his face, and that combination of injury and aggression makes him look invincible,' said Mitchell. 'It's the perfect image of defiance.' The raised fist has long been a symbol of resistance, but in Trump's case, it becomes something else entirely: a performance of raw, retaliatory power. 'People immediately wondered if it had been staged,' Mitchell noted. 'It was that perfect. He couldn't have manufactured a stronger image of strength and martyrdom if he'd tried.' Even as he's ushered offstage, Trump remains in full view – a choice Mitchell says contradicts Secret Service protocol and reinforces Trump's mastery of performance 3. He's at the center of the photo, even when chaos erupts around him Mitchell says that in most assassination attempts, the subject is immediately obscured - tackled, hidden, shielded from view. But not Trump. In this photo, he remains perfectly visible. Even as Secret Service agents try to cover him, he refuses to be covered. 'The job of the Secret Service is to conceal the president, protect him with their bodies,' Mitchell said. 'But Trump literally wrestles them off – placing himself at the center of the shot. That's not just instinct, that's performance.' In another image from the scene, Trump can be seen pushing himself up by gripping the shoulders of a female agent - almost hoisting himself above the fray. 'It's a visual metaphor for Trump's whole career,' Mitchell added. 'He doesn't let the state protect him. He dominates the state, even in a moment of crisis.' Thousands packed the fairgrounds in Butler, Pennsylvania, for Trump's rally – seen here from above in a sweeping aerial shot 4. He knew exactly where the cameras were - and played to them Perhaps the most unsettling detail? Trump's acute awareness of the optics, even as bullets were flying. 'He's always been a creature of television,' Mitchell said. 'From WWE to The Apprentice, he knows where the camera is, and he looks straight into it.' This wasn't an accident. It was instinct, Mitchell says. 'From the very first moment, he made himself the center of attention - visually and narratively,' Mitchell said. 'That's what makes this image so powerful. It's not just about what happened, it's about how he made it look.' Mitchell compared the moment to Trump's mug shot - another image that, in any other political career, would have been a PR disaster. For Trump? Merch. 'He put it on T-shirts. He raised millions from it,' said Mitchell. 'He's the only politician in American history who can turn a criminal indictment or an assassination attempt into a branding opportunity.' The FBI identified Thomas Matthew Crooks (pictured) as the gunman in the assassination attempt on Trump The bigger picture: martyr, savior, showman To some of Trump's supporters, this image is proof of divine favor: a miraculous near-miss that reinforces their belief in his destiny. 'It confirmed his invincibility,' said Mitchell. 'He's not just a man anymore. He's a myth.' That myth has been building for years, fueled by reality TV, political grievance and what Mitchell calls the 'attention economy.' Trump doesn't just dominate the headlines, he is the headline. 'He once said he could shoot someone on Fifth Avenue and not lose support,' Mitchell recalled. 'Now someone shoots him, and he becomes a hero. It's the same logic. He always wins.' For critics, that logic is as terrifying as it is effective. The image papers over real questions about how the gunman got so close, why the Secret Service failed or what might have happened had the bullet been an inch to the left. But the spectacle doesn't leave room for doubt, only awe. 'This photo doesn't just record an event,' said Mitchell. 'It delivers a message: I am still here, I am untouchable, I am chosen.'
BBC News
09-07-2025
- Sport
- BBC News
Grave of footballer Jack Kirby who defied Hitler restored
The "weathered" grave of a Derby County player who defied the Nazis during the club's 1934 tour of Germany has been diplomats backed Hitler's officials when they ordered the Rams team to give the Nazi salute before each of their matches - but goalkeeper John "Jack" Kirby historian Kal Singh Dhindsa traced Kirby's Grave to St Peter's Church in Netherseal, Derbyshire, in June last year and raised £1,500 through donations for the Dhindsa said Kirby was a man who "continues to raise the spirits of all those who were inspired by his unforgettable act of defiance". The work, carried out by Horobin Memorial Masons, was completed on Dhindsa said: "The original grave was in a very weathered state. "It was almost impossible to find then decipher what was written on it."Myself and family members decided that the best thing to do would be to restore it as close as possible to what it looked like when it was first put down."Jack Kirby is a Derbyshire legend of defiance. It was a pleasure to see this through." Born in South Derbyshire on 30 September 1909, Kirby made 191 appearances for the Rams after arriving from Derbyshire-based Newhall United in Derby County's tour in 1934, Kirby refused to salute in all four matches in four cities against German teams, of which the Rams lost three and drew never meeting him, Jack Kirby's great-niece, Rachel Kirby, said she idolised her great-uncle for his defiant act 90 years ago. "His grave had become weathered and unrecognisable to fans, but thanks to Kal and generous supporters, it has now been beautifully restored, with the lettering once again clear for all to see," said Ms said her Uncle Jack shared a close bond with her father, Douglas."Even into his 90s dad took great pride in visiting the grave and laying flowers, but sadly we lost dad to dementia," she added. "I know how he would have been deeply moved by this tribute."I'm incredibly proud and so thankful to everyone who donated, shared, and supported. I'd love people to visit and remember him."
New York Times
01-07-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
10 Songs of Rebellion and Defiance for the Fourth
By Jon Pareles Dear listeners, Jon Pareles here, chief pop critic, dropping by The Amplifier while Lindsay is on leave. The Fourth of July is just a few days away. And its celebratory fireworks and parades, lest we forget, commemorate a manifesto of principled rejection of authoritarian rule, which became the foundation of a successful revolution. It's a good moment to crank up some songs about defiance, rebellion, justice and collective action. Here are a few for starters. Rip the mic, rip the stage, rip the system, Jon 'Poor people gonna rise up and take what's theirs,' Tracy Chapman predicted on her 1988 debut album. With a churchy organ looming behind her strummed guitar chords, she envisioned economic discontent that could build from a whisper to a movement — and she welcomed it. ▶ Listen on Spotify, Apple Music or YouTube Frustration energized the funk in this 1975 hit by the Isley Brothers. Tautly contained rhythm guitars and pithy drumming back up the brothers' growls and falsettos as they rail against red tape, against people who say their 'music's too loud' and generally against a barnyard profanity that was still a rarity in that era of R&B. For the last two minutes of a five-minute track, they bear down directly on their message, vehemently repeating, 'Fight it, fight the power!' ▶ Listen on Spotify, Apple Music or YouTube In 1989, Public Enemy latched onto the Isley Brothers' title and refrain for 'Fight the Power,' which appeared on the soundtrack to Spike Lee's 'Do the Right Thing' and on Public Enemy's album 'Fear of a Black Planet.' Chuck D declares, 'From the heart, it's a start, a work of art / To revolutionize, make a change,' over the Bomb Squad's dense, deep funk production — a bristling pileup of samples from James Brown and many others. Decades later, it still sounds uncompromising. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Bloomberg
30-06-2025
- Politics
- Bloomberg
Viktor Orban's Hold on Hungary May Be Slipping
Budapest just hosted one of the biggest displays of defiance of the Hungarian premier's 15 years in office. Welcome to Balance of Power, bringing you the latest in global politics. If you haven't yet, sign up here. Viktor Orban's aura of invincibility is cracking.
