iran solidarity statement
The Black Peoples Union (BPU) issues this statement in unequivocal opposition to the latest round of threats, escalations, and imperialist violence from the United States, Israel, and their complicit allies against the sovereign state of Iran and the broader West Asian region. We speak not as abstract commentators but as Indigenous peoples living under occupation on our own soil, watching the same imperialist machinery that devoured our lands now encircle and attempt to destroy the Global South.
Sovereignty Is Non-Negotiable
Iran, like Palestine, has the right to defend itself against foreign aggression. This is a basic tenet of sovereignty, a right routinely denied to nations that refuse to bow to western hegemony. In any honest anti-colonial framework, anti-imperialist resistance is not just defensible — it is righteous. For centuries, western imperialism has ravaged West Asia; redrawing borders, extracting wealth, toppling governments, and inflicting genocidal violence under the false banners of democracy, freedom, and progress.
The current escalations are not about security as the imperialists claim but about control. They are about ensuring that independent, resource-rich, and strategically placed nations like Iran remain under the boot of the imperialist, neoliberal world order. In this order, countries are either compliant vassals or marked for annihilation. Iran — like Palestine, like Yemen, like Syria, like Lebanon — has refused to comply. It has refused to abandon its people, its sovereignty, and its role in the regional resistance bloc. For this, it is being targeted.
The Lies That Precede Every War
We have seen this before. The rhetoric is recycled: weapons of mass destruction, nuclear programs, chemical attacks, threats to democracy and liberal feminism. These excuses are not new. They are well-worn scripts authored in the halls of Langley and Tel Aviv, recited by media outlets that claim neutrality but serve empire. The claim that Iran is moments away from possessing nuclear weapons is a baseless fabrication that has been touted for the last forty years and is designed to manufacture consent for war. A similar lie was told about Iraq, and is now being revived to justify what will become a global catastrophe.
We must state clearly: Iran is a signatory to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. Israel is not. Iran has allowed international inspections. Israel has not. The world’s only undeclared nuclear power in the region is Israel — an illegitimate occupation armed to the teeth with western blessing. The hypocrisy is staggering, and the intention is obvious: to distract, deceive, and destroy.
And to be even clearer: even if Iran did possess nuclear weapons, that alone would not justify the west’s aggression. The imperial powers possess vast nuclear arsenals and are the only ones to have ever used them — on civilians. To claim that the U.S., U.K., Israel, and NATO states may stockpile weapons of mass annihilation, while others must remain defenceless, is hypocrisy of the highest order. The real threat to global peace is not Iran, it is the empire that believes it may destabilise nations and kill millions with impunity.
Liberalism Is Not Anti-Imperialism
We reject the dishonest posture of western liberals who claim to “stand with the people of Iran” while pointedly refusing to stand by the Iranian state. This rhetorical sleight of hand is not principled; it is a well-worn tactic of imperialist propaganda. By pretending that solidarity means abstract moral approval rather than concrete political alignment against empire, liberals position themselves as neutral observers while enabling war.
You cannot “oppose both sides” when one side has hundreds of military bases encircling the globe, conducts drone assassinations, imposes sanctions that starve entire populations, and backs Israel’s illegal occupation and genocide in Palestine. Western governments are not flawed democracies trying to improve; they are colonial war machines built on annihilation and conquest. To withhold political support from Iran under the guise of moral nuance while your own government is the greatest source of violence on Earth is not nuanced and it is not neutrality; it is abject cowardice.
This liberal framing is dishonest and it is dangerous. It creates the illusion of moral complexity where there is, in fact, a clear imbalance of power. It cloaks imperial violence in the language of human rights. It allows war to proceed by muddying the waters, making it harder for ordinary people to take a clear, anti-imperialist stance. And it always defaults to the same outcome: demonising the states that resist empire while ultimately absolving the empire that seeks to destroy them.
You do not have to agree with every internal policy of Iran to defend its right to self-determination and sovereignty. You only have to be honest enough to admit that this isn’t about freedom or security, it’s about power and the empire’s fear of losing it.
Western Governments Are the Greatest Threat to World Peace
There is no greater threat to peace, freedom, and justice in the world today than the governments of the United States, Israel, Australia, the United Kingdom, and their NATO-aligned allies. These states do not maintain peace; they maintain control. Their economic systems depend on permanent war, extractive trade, and the violent suppression of any nation or people that dares to assert sovereignty outside their global order.
Since World War II, the United States alone has been responsible for over 80 foreign interventions: installing dictators, toppling democratically elected governments, arming death squads, and laying waste to entire countries. From Vietnam to Chile, from Iraq to Libya, from Afghanistan to Haiti, the US and its allies have used military force, sanctions, and economic coercion to destroy any form of resistance to capitalist-imperialist hegemony.
Israel, the west’s heavily militarised outpost in West Asia, exists as an illegal settler colony built on the ethnic cleansing of Palestine. It receives billions in unconditional military aid from the United States each year and serves as a testing ground for surveillance technology, border militarisation, and counter-insurgency tactics that are later exported worldwide. Its occupation is not an aberration; it is a model of control.
Australia, meanwhile, functions as a loyal enforcer of Anglo-American imperialism in the Indo-Pacific region. It hosts US military bases, complies unquestioningly with Washington’s wars, and brutalises First Nations people on our own soil, all while branding itself as a laid-back, peace-loving democracy. Australia has played a key role in the Pacific’s ongoing recolonisation through "aid" conditionality, defence pacts, and resource control, particularly in Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, and Timor-Leste.
These states uphold a global regime founded on racial capitalism, militarised borders, ecological destruction, and mass surveillance. Their wealth is built on the bones of the colonised. Their institutions, from the IMF to the UN Security Council to international courts, are designed not to ensure justice, but to preserve western power. Their so-called freedom is a lie told with a gun in one hand and a trade agreement in the other.
This neoliberal world order, marked by consumer capitalism, tech-enabled distraction, debt dependency, and endless war, has produced nothing but misery for most of the planet. It allows citizens of the imperial core to live in relative comfort while entire nations are reduced to rubble, starvation, or vassal status. It tells us we are free, as long as we never question who pays for that freedom.
The western way of life is not sustainable, moral, or defensible. It is a mirage of security propped up by mass death, climate collapse, and colonial violence. The greatest threat to world peace is not in Tehran, Pyongyang, or Caracas. It is in Washington, Tel Aviv, London, Paris, and Canberra — capitals that have never known peace except at the expense of others.
To believe otherwise is to fall for the propaganda of empire.
On Diaspora, Discernment, and Responsibility
As an Indigenous sovereign collective based in the settler colony of so-called Australia, we speak from within the empire’s heart. We speak as First Peoples whose land is still occupied, whose families are still surveilled and imprisoned, and whose resistance is still criminalised. We know what empire looks like because we live inside it, and we recognise its patterns everywhere.
We must speak now on a difficult truth: many diaspora voices, especially those elevated through western platforms and institutions, are being strategically weaponised against their own homelands and against anti-imperialism. These are not always bad people. Many are well-intentioned. But intentions are not enough. What we are witnessing is a flood of social media influencers, NGO affiliates, and western-educated commentators who claim to oppose imperialism while repeating its talking points: they denounce western violence in Palestine while echoing the same western propaganda used to justify regime change in Iran, Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, Venezuela, and elsewhere.
This contradiction is not neutral. It has consequences. We are watching a generation of western-acculturated diasporas, shaped by social media algorithms and liberal NGO discourse, adopt the moral vocabulary of empire while imagining themselves radical. They oppose Israeli settler-colonialism, yet denounce the armed resistance in Gaza. They say “Free Palestine” but recoil at Hezbollah, Ansarallah, or the Iranian state. They dismiss anyone who defends Syrian sovereignty as an “Assadist,” as if supporting a peoples’ sovereignty is inherently authoritarian. They weep for Gaza while slandering those fighting to break the siege. These narratives erode support for resistance movements on the ground. They fracture solidarity. They confuse the public. They erode the foundations of any collective movement grounded in anti-imperialism. They reduce global liberation struggles to Instagram aesthetics and empty slogans. They obscure power, history, and material analysis in favour of personal branding and western moral frameworks. And they offer imperial states the perfect cover: wars framed not as invasions, but as “liberations” demanded by the people themselves.
We have no interest in policing diaspora identity. But we do insist on political clarity. Because right now, some of the loudest voices calling for the downfall of anti-imperialist states are doing so under the illusion that their critique is radical. It is not. It is liberalism in revolutionary clothing. It is counterinsurgency by another name.
We have seen this playbook before. In Iraq. In Libya. In Afghanistan. The empire claims to bomb you in order to save you — and too many well-meaning people become its chorus.
We call on our comrades in the diaspora to pause and reflect: Who benefits from your rhetoric? Who funds the organisations you amplify? Whose interests are served when you oppose colonialism in one breath and demand regime change in another? We know the disorientation of exile, of being cut off from homeland and tradition. But that disorientation must not become a licence to reproduce imperial violence.
Living in the west comes with distortion. With privilege. With insulation from the bombs, sanctions, and structural chaos that imperial intervention brings. From where we stand — as Indigenous people resisting occupation on our own lands — we urge you: speak with discernment. Speak with historical coherence. Speak with accountability to those fighting for survival, not with allegiance to liberalism and the social capital that it brings you.
We do not say this to shame or divide. We say this because our liberation is bound up with yours. The empire that occupies your homelands is the same one that occupies ours. And it is expert at confusing and co-opting resistance. We must be smarter than it; more principled and more unified.
If we cannot tell the difference between a liberation movement and a proxy war, between a sovereign state and a NATO-backed coup, then we are not building a decolonial future — we are extending the life of the empire we claim to oppose.
Decolonisation is not a brand, a feeling, or a metaphor. It is a material, geopolitical, and ongoing war against empire. And empire does not fall through moral purity — it falls through discipline, clarity, and solidarity rooted in truth, not trend.
The Ineffectiveness of Petitions, Parades, and Pleas
For twenty months and counting, we have watched as millions around the world have poured into the streets for Palestine. We have seen mass mobilisations, heartfelt speeches, viral campaigns, banner drops, sit-ins, petitions, and public pressure campaigns. We do not dismiss these efforts. Many have been brave, creative, and deeply felt. The global outpouring of solidarity has made it impossible to ignore Palestine — and for that, the people must be acknowledged.
But we must also tell the truth: the genocide continues.
Israel has dropped hundreds of thousands of bombs on Gaza. Tens of thousands are dead. Entire families have been obliterated. Hospitals, universities, homes, and water infrastructure have been flattened. This is the most televised genocide in human history, and still, western governments send more weapons, more money, more diplomatic cover.
Why?
Because empire does not respond to pleas. It does not listen to conscience. It has none. As Kwame Ture said plainly: “There is no such thing as a moral appeal to the conscience of a country that has none. You are wasting your time.”
This is a fundamental lesson of anti-imperialist struggle. The empire responds to power. It responds to disruption. It responds to crises; not to performance, not to moralising, and not to the scale of our grief.
This does not mean protest is useless — it means protest must be strategic. It must escalate. It must become ungovernable. The civil rights movement did not win because people marched — it won because people organised, blockaded, and made the state’s continued repression unmanageable. The anti-Vietnam war movement didn’t turn public sentiment through peace signs — it did so through draft resistance, labour strikes, campus shutdowns, and transnational solidarity.
Mass mobilisations are important for building consciousness, but they are not enough to bring down a war machine. What we have seen over the past two years is a saturation of symbolic protest, with very little material consequence.
The system has learned to absorb dissent, manage it, and then continue its violence uninterrupted. It will let us march. It will let us grieve. It may even allow us to shame a few institutions. But it will never allow us to stop genocide unless we force it to.
That means understanding power. It means knowing that the Israeli settler-colony functions as an extension of U.S. imperial architecture. That Palestine is not a standalone issue; it is a node in the global system of extraction and militarised control. That our governments back Israel not because they are confused, but because it serves their geopolitical interests to do so.
Australia, for example, committed atrocities in Palestine as early as 1918, helping lay the groundwork for Zionist colonialism and has been a consistent supporter of Israel since its founding. It voted in favour of the 1947 UN partition plan that dispossessed Palestinians and recognised Jerusalem as the capital of Israel despite “international law”. It continues to trade weapons and intelligence with the Israeli regime and has refused to sanction it, even in the face of overwhelming evidence of war crimes.
To stop genocide, we cannot appeal to these states. We must disrupt them. This means economic disruption: boycotts, strikes, refusal to cooperate with complicit industries. It means political disruption: forcing crises in governance through collective withdrawal of consent, occupation of public space, and attacks against supply chains and weapons manufacturing. It means social disruption: shattering the illusion of legitimacy that these institutions depend on.
We also need internationalist discipline. This moment demands we move beyond performative protest culture and toward revolutionary strategy. That requires study, coordination, and deep ties with resistance movements abroad. It requires a willingness to take risks, a rejection of respectability, and above all, an understanding that no system rooted in genocide will be persuaded out of existence by kindness or shame.
The U.S., the U.K., Australia, Canada, and the EU are not neutral parties. They are partners in genocide. They are fully committed to sustaining the Zionist occupation because it is a fully integrated part of their broader project: the violent control of the Global South and the suppression of any alternative to U.S.-led capitalist domination.
These states will not stop until they are made to stop. That means building the power to do so. Not one day. Now.
We say this not to condemn but to sharpen and to bring coherence to what is, currently, an incoherent movement. To deepen the movement’s clarity and discipline. To remind ourselves that our rage, our grief, our heartbreak must be transformed into something that existentially challenges empire.
Our duty is not to feel better, our duty is to win.
We owe that to the martyrs of Gaza, to the resistance movements across the Global South, and to our own ancestors who have fought colonial violence for generations.
“There is no such thing as a moral appeal to the conscience of a country that has none. You are wasting your time.”
The Enemy Is At Home
We are not Russian, Chinese, Iranian, Syrian, North Korean, or Venezuelan citizens. We do not live under their governments. We do not pay their taxes, serve in their militaries, or elect their leaders. We cannot meaningfully shape the internal dynamics of these states. But we do live in the imperial core. We reside within settler-colonial states that dominate the world stage: economically, militarily, ideologically.
As First Nations people in the colony of so-called Australia, our daily lives are entangled with empire. We are forced to pay taxes to a state that genocides our people, funds Israeli occupation, upholds genocidal sanctions, joins illegal wars, and hosts U.S. military bases on stolen Aboriginal land. We are subject to the surveillance systems, propaganda networks, and carceral institutions that not only repress us here, but are also exported globally to repress others. We see very clearly that empire is not “over there.” It is here.
The most effective place to challenge imperialism is not from the outside, but from within the belly of the beast. That is our task. Not to posture as morally superior saviours of the Global South, but to dismantle the power structures here that make colonisation and war possible everywhere.
Criticising the internal contradictions of official “enemy states” such as China, Iran, Syria, or North Korea may appear principled, but when done from within the west, particularly in moments of geopolitical tension, it serves imperial objectives. It reinforces the logic that westerners are the ultimate arbiters of democracy, freedom, and legitimacy. It cloaks the violence of empire.
This is the colonial missionary complex reborn: the idea that brown, Black, Indigenous, or non-western peoples must be saved from their governments by enlightened westerners. This is nothing more than western saviourism weaponised by empire.
Every state has contradictions. But only certain states maintain 800 military bases around the world. Only certain states have the power to sanction entire populations into starvation. Only certain states lead wars of aggression, install puppet regimes, orchestrate coups, and bomb hospitals with impunity. Those states are ours: the U.S., U.K., Australia, and their allies. They are the primary global aggressors. They are the ones exporting suffering. They are the greatest threat to peace and sovereignty worldwide.
When liberals fixate on the flaws of Global South governments while being performative about confronting their own states’ violence, they are not being “balanced.” They are playing a critical role in upholding imperialism. This false equivalence — “Yes, the west is bad, but other things are also bad” — creates a moral deadlock that absolves the west of accountability and derails any meaningful political action.
We must stop falling for it.
We do not need westerners to fix other nations. We need people in the west to stop their governments from waging war, imposing sanctions, installing puppet leaders, and blocking the development of sovereign alternatives to U.S. hegemony.
To focus obsessively on the contradictions of enemy states is not just ineffective, it is cowardice. It is a convenient deflection that lets people feel morally righteous while doing nothing of substance. It allows them to avoid the real confrontation: the one with the governments they live under, benefit from, and often quietly support.
The empire doesn’t care that you criticise AUKUS. It can survive your outrage at Pine Gap or U.S. bombers stationed on stolen land. What it relies on is your insistence that Iran is just as bad. It needs you to believe that condemning empire must always come with a disclaimer — “but the Iranian government is also oppressive.” It counts on you to echo its talking points, even as you posture against its wars. Because the more you frame resistance states as equal threats, the easier it becomes to justify sanctions, coups and intervention. It wants you to believe the problem is “authoritarianism over there,” rather than settler-colonialism, surveillance, incarceration and global war right here.
We refuse to be distracted.
As Indigenous people, we understand that empire always seeks to externalise violence and hide the source. But we know the truth: the enemy is not out there, it is right here, where we stand, and this is where we must strike.
We Must Bring the System Down
There is no reforming a system built on genocide. There is no appeal to the conscience of a machine that exists to extract, dominate and kill. The only path to peace is the collapse of empire — full stop.
This is not a rhetorical flourish; it is a material imperative. The U.S. empire and its junior partners (Australia among them) are not malfunctioning democracies. They are functioning exactly as intended. Their wealth and security are made possible only through endless war, resource theft, mass displacement, ecological destruction and racialised control. The peace they speak of is the silence of the grave.
No petition, no progressive election win, no non-binding UN vote will bring liberation. Empire does not relinquish power because it is asked nicely. It relinquishes power when it is forced to. And that means resistance — serious, sustained, organised resistance.
We are talking about direct action. Not just protests that make headlines, but disruption that makes empire bleed. That means strikes that shut down key industries. That means sabotage of the systems that keep imperial violence running: logistics, weapons production, surveillance infrastructure, fossil fuel pipelines. That means refusing to allow normality to continue while people are being exterminated.
We must understand that this system has pressure points: ports, rail lines, military supply chains, intelligence infrastructure, data centres, roads, refineries. These are the arteries of empire, and they are vulnerable. The state knows this. That’s why it criminalises dissent, over-polices First Nations resistance, labels environmentalists as domestic extremists, and violently suppresses even modest acts of disruption. Because it fears what we might do if we were truly organised, unified and unafraid.
We also know the price of real resistance. It means risking comfort, facing repression — it means sacrifice. But that is the cost of liberation. And for those who live in the heart of the empire, especially on stolen Indigenous land, that responsibility is inescapable. If we are not actively dismantling this system, we are complicit in its crimes.
We cannot continue to say we oppose war while benefiting from its spoils. Our clean water, our electricity, our stable currency, our consumer goods, our endless digital distractions –- all of it is underwritten by the blood of those the west considers disposable. Every bomb dropped on Gaza, every blockade on Yemen, every sanction on Iran, every child starved or disappeared by empire’s machinery — these acts are made possible by the silence, comfort, and complicity of those in the core.
We do not say this to induce guilt. We say it to encourage action. This is about duty and responsibility. We are calling on people to fight back. Because the most powerful act of solidarity we can offer to Palestine, to Iran, to Yemen, to every corner of the colonised world, is to destabilise the empire from within. To make our streets ungovernable, to interrupt business as usual, and to build alliances of the dispossessed that can no longer be ignored.
Let us not forget: every revolution in history was called “impossible” until it happened. Every empire believed itself eternal until it fell. The system we live under is not invincible. But it will not collapse under its own weight. We must bring it down.
We Must Embrace Risk and Reject Excuses
Yes, this will require us to leave comfort behind. Yes, it may cost us jobs, safety, status, or freedom. But how dare we speak of inconvenience while mothers in Rafah dig their babies from rubble with their bare hands? While resistance fighters in southern Lebanon stand under skies filled with drones? While Iranians, Yemenis, Cubans, North Koreans, Sudanese, Congolese, and so many others endure sanctions, invasions, assassinations, blockades, and constant psychological warfare — not because they are threats to the world, but because they refuse to kneel to empire?
We live in the imperial core. We benefit daily from the suffering of others. We cannot continue to clutch our comforts while the rest of the world burns, believing we are not accountable. We are. Our freedoms are not neutral. They are constructed atop someone else’s oppression. And that moral contradiction must be resolved in action, not in rhetoric.
It is not radical to ask for sacrifice. It is not idealistic or extreme. It is moral, it is necessary, and it is long overdue. And if we do not step forward now, if we continue to hide behind excuses — “I can’t risk my job,” “I have a family,” “What difference will it make?” — then we are not part of the movement; we are its obstacle.
Decolonisation, anti-imperialism, and revolutionary solidarity have always demanded risk. Every freedom fighter we quote, every movement we romanticise — ANC militants, Palestinian fedayeen, Black Panthers, Algerian revolutionaries, Tamil Tigers, Zapatistas, the FLN, the MPLA, the Viet Minh — risked far more than we have even begun to imagine. They did not win by asking if it was safe; they won by deciding it was necessary.
To sit in our air-conditioned homes, scrolling endlessly, posting solidarity graphics, debating tactics, going on a weekly police-sanctioned parade and telling ourselves we are doing enough is not only delusional, it is an insult to the people who have given their lives for liberation. It is an insult to those who do not get to choose between risk and safety because they were born into war. It is an insult to the land beneath our feet, which is still unceded, still surveilled, still criminalised every time a Blak body dares to resist.
We must stop confusing caution with strategy. We must stop dressing up fear as principle. And we must stop demanding guarantees of safety from a world that is built on violence. We are not safe because the world is free — we are safe because others are not.
“The only thing in the world worth beginning: The end of the world of the oppressor.”
The Global Revolution Will Be Indigenous and Third World Led
The future does not belong to the west. It does not belong to Wall Street, Silicon Valley, NATO, or the military-industrial complex. It does not belong to the technocrats, bankers, or billionaires who have set the world on fire and now pretend to offer solutions. It certainly does not belong to the liberal institutions that speak the language of justice while enabling endless war, occupation, and ecological destruction.
The future belongs to those who have survived empire. To those whose lands were stolen, whose bodies were enslaved, whose cultures were demonised, and who are now rising –- not in spite of history, but because of it.
We affirm without apology that the next stage of global liberation will be led by Indigenous peoples, by the Global South, by the oppressed majorities of the world. Not by think tanks. Not by NGOs. Not by parliaments. But by those who know what it means to resist with nothing but dignity, discipline, and collective strength.
This revolution will not look like anything the west can recognise or approve of. It will not conform to liberal fantasies of civil discourse or institutional reform. It will not be funded by grants, legitimised by media coverage, or made palatable to the ruling class. It will emerge from the ground up — messy, plural, determined, and uncompromising. It will be a revolution of land and labour, of memory and spirit, of sovereignty and survival.
It will not ask permission. It will not negotiate the terms of its own freedom. It will not beg to be included in the very structures that have destroyed us. It will challenge the foundations of western civilisation itself: private property, militarised borders, racial capitalism, and the myth of universal western values.
History makes this clear. The Haitian Revolution. The Algerian War. The Vietnamese struggle. The Mau Mau uprising. The Sandinistas. The Zapatistas. The Black Power movement. These were not liberal movements. These — like the ongoing armed resistance in Palestine and Lebanon — were decolonial uprisings: complex, contradictory, grounded in community, culture, and confrontation with empire. And they are not relics of the past; they are the blueprint for the future.
To live in the heart of empire today is to be at a crossroads: either we support the rise of the Third World, or we cling to the decaying privileges of the First. Either we recognise Indigenous and Global South leadership, or we continue to sabotage the very movements that could save us all.
Our role, as those who live on occupied land, who speak the language of the coloniser, and who witness firsthand how imperial power is sustained, is not to defer to the same western frameworks that have failed us; it is to lead from a place of deep-rooted sovereignty, memory, and resistance. As an Indigenous-led collective based in the heart of empire, we know that we are not separate from global liberation movements — we are part of them. We carry our own long histories of resistance to colonialism, incarceration, dispossession, and genocide. We do not romanticise struggle; we live it.
But we also speak to those around us — settlers, migrants, and would-be allies — who are positioned within the same imperial machine and who benefit, whether they choose to or not, from the subjugation of others. And to them, we say: your job is not to lead, it is to follow. To study Third World resistance. To de-centre yourselves. To stop demanding ideological perfection from those under siege while making endless exceptions for the state violence you live among. To show up with rigour, humility, and discipline. And to act not as saviours, but as saboteurs of empire from within.
We do not need more guilt. We need more courage. We need people in the imperial core to listen deeply, to build locally under Indigenous leadership, and to sabotage globally, disrupting the machinery of empire at every point of contact. We need real, material alignment with Indigenous sovereignty and with Third World resistance movements. Not branding or platitudes, but real material action.
The struggles of the Global South are not distant crises. They are extensions of the same colonial system that continues to occupy, surveil, and police our own communities here. Palestine is not a metaphor. Congo is not a headline. West Papua is not a charity case. These are all revolutionary fronts and our fate is tied to theirs.
The future is not western. It is not liberal. It is not polite. The future is Indigenous. It is Black. It is Third World. It is rooted in land, culture, memory, resistance, and love.
In Closing
We stand with Iran, unapologetically.
As Indigenous people living under occupation ourselves, we recognise Iran’s right to sovereignty, to defence, to dignity, and to resist imperial aggression by any means necessary. We reject the demonisation of Iran by settler states whose own hands are soaked in blood. The real threat to peace is not in Tehran, it is in Washington, Canberra, London, Paris, and Tel Aviv.
We stand with Palestine. With Lebanon. With Yemen. With Indigenous people across the Earth, and with the people of the Global South rising against centuries of colonisation, extraction, and war. Their struggle is our struggle. Their resistance is our shared horizon.
We reject the cowardice of liberalism, the deceit of imperial narratives, and the weaponisation of diaspora voices to justify war. We reject the liberal impulse to flatten power and pretend that “both sides” are equally bad — this is not nuance, it is moral failure. There is a difference between the coloniser and the colonised, the occupier and the occupied, the empire and those who resist it. We do not mistake discomfort for oppression. We do not mistake imperial-aligned critique for solidarity. To undermine resistance while claiming to stand with the people is not complexity — it is outright betrayal. We know who the enemy is: the empire that occupies, imprisons, and profits from our suffering.
This is not a time for neutrality. It is a time for alignment and clarity. It is a time for militancy. It is a time for resistance.
We know where we stand, and we know where we must strike.
There is no future without resistance. We call on each and every one of you: bring the empire to its end.