The time for revolution is now
The old order is collapsing, from the halls of power to the skies above. The time for mere protest is over; the task now is to build.
Editorial
The architecture of our ruin has many designers, and this month we mark the passing of one of its most influential, a man whose legacy is written in wars built on lies and the quiet agony of sanctioned torture chambers. That same institutional cruelty lives on, in a state that still commits genocide while the imperial boomerang brings its methods home. We see it in the chilling art of recycled wartime propaganda, repurposed to wage a new war on the vulnerable within its own borders.
This system of power has its price, paid most dearly by those the world has agreed to forget. In the war zones from Gaza to Sudan, we find the ultimate betrayal, where international covenants crumble and women are forced to navigate shelling, famine and the constant threat of sexual violence.
But despair is a luxury we cannot afford. In the cracks of this decaying order, new possibilities are taking root. We see it in the heart of the American empire, where New York has just chosen a new leader who weathered a storm of the most vile, racist attacks to build a movement for shared dignity. We see it in the quiet persistence of young law students in Bangladesh, turning away from a path of gilded conformity to reclaim their profession in the service of justice.
These are the first sketches of a new world emerging within the shell of the old. They affirm that true opposition is not only about tearing down, but about building up. This is the crucial distinction between a fleeting revolt and a lasting revolution. Our cover story this month explores the architecture of successful revolution—what it takes for uprisings to cross borders, why so many fail and why the conditions for a global movement are no longer on the horizon, but are here, now.
Our environmental report this month explores the vast, invisible rivers in our atmosphere. Once the lifeblood of ecosystems, they are becoming increasingly intense and destructive, turning from life-givers into engines of unpredictable chaos.
In our culture section, we look back a century to an America also caught between ambition and unease, forging new forms of expression to capture a world being remade. And in a Roman gallery, we find a timeless warning in the story of Narcissus, whose fatal self-obsession serves as a powerful parable for an order so captivated by its own reflection that it cannot see its end approaching.
We hope you enjoy this issue of The Gordian. If you value our work please consider a small, regular donation. It helps us do more of what we do, and do it better.
Ariana Yekrangi
Editor of the Gordian and co-Founder of UN-aligned ry
