Two-Tier Policing: When Open Faces Become Terrorism and Balaclavas Become Civic Duty by Lawson Akhigbe

First, the Palestine Action episode. These were people who did not bother with balaclavas or the theatrical anonymity so beloved of the modern political cosplay set. They targeted warehouses and facilities linked to the supply of arms to the Israeli military. The Labour government, with the practised solemnity of a government discovering its inner authoritarian, reached for the terrorism laws. Proscription followed. Arrests followed. Jail terms followed. Even the barristers who dared to represent them found themselves in the crosshairs. The message was clear: damage property in the service of a cause the government finds inconvenient, and you will be treated as the domestic equivalent of Al-Qaeda, complete with the full legal theatre that accompanies such a designation.

Same Shit, Different Hat: A Timeless Fashion Statement in Political Extremism by Lawson Akhigbe

Ah, the internet has done it again. While the rest of us are busy arguing over pineapple on pizza or whether socks with sandals constitute a war crime, some genius has distilled centuries of ideological garbage into one glorious, four-panel roast. Behold the meme that slaps you harder than your uncle at Thanksgiving: "Same Shit, Different Hat."

The British Right and the Great Social Sorting Experiment by Lawson Akhigbe

It wants to celebrate Britain as the greatest country in the world while simultaneously proposing policies that would make large parts of Britain less British.

The Safe Place for Bigotry and Crime by Lawson Akhigbe

It has no postcode. It does not appear on Google Maps. There are no street signs pointing towards it. Yet, whenever one of its inhabitants is caught saying something outrageous or doing something politically or legally questionable, suddenly we are told that the offending words or conduct belonged there.

The Moths to the Flame: Why Do Populist Movements Always Attract Such “Enterprising” Characters? By Lawson Akhigbe

There is an eternal, almost Newtonian law of modern politics: wherever a politician loudly proclaims they are "standing up for the forgotten working man," you will inevitably find a discreet corner table in a private Mayfair club where someone is eagerly trying to launder foreign money.