An old-timely London bus parked outside of the High Court that day.
Nothing much to report this time. I had just arrived outside the Royal Courts of Justice (otherwise known as the High Court), at around 12:30, and within moments — what felt like sixty seconds — the decision to grant Assange the right to appeal the extradition request to the United States had been given, delivered to the gathering demonstrators from one of the event organisers hanging atop the front gate through a muffled megaphone; the crowd roared, people embraced one another and cried, others jumped frantically up and down in place, while still more punched the heavens in disbelief that some good news had finally arrived (after fourteen years of trying, as one of the speakers, Craig Murray, would reflect, really putting the significance of this seemingly small win into perspective). I missed the before but was there for the after — worth every penny. And after my last entry on this subject (where I said: “I met many people during my two days outside the Royal Courts of Justice, as I did during my previous visit to Parliament Square for a different event in aid of Assange, people I will remember forever, regardless of whether or not I ever see them again. I hope that I do. But I hope for Assange’s sake that I don’t, and if I do, it will be to celebrate his liberation from captivity”), I couldn’t help but feel slightly prophetic and light up inside as I reminded myself of what I’d said only a few months prior when things seemed bleaker (it’s not at all like it’s a fifty-fifty toss up estimating when such news will come).
After Assange’s wife, father, among others, had delivered their victory speeches and left for a surprisingly early respite from the case (a decision wasn’t expected until the hearing’s end around 5PM), the crowd began to break apart. Some going for a well earned pint in a nearby pub (the weather was glorious that day). Others staying around to play music, sing songs, deliver their own reflections on the decision from atop a step ladder that one attendee had fashioned into a podium, or just to talk with friends. As for me, with what I had anticipated to be a long five hours of standing outside a court building ending within thirty minutes of my getting there, I had the whole rest of the day before my train home was due. So I decided that I would wander London while it was nice, see the National Gallery again (if the reader enjoys paintings of passages from the New Testament, I would highly recommend it), wander by Parliament Square, Big Ben, the London Eye, and a local pub if I had the time (I got to visit the Sherlock Holmes for a drink before my train was due — mango cider — somewhere I always failed to visit every other time I was in the area).
While I was on my wander around London with my unexpected freedom, I had some time to reflect on just that — freedom. I would reflect specifically on the feeling of freedom that I had all of a sudden, that I was no longer bound to that place and for that window of time I had, for the duration of that window, volunteered my freedom up for, anchoring myself in place purposefully, and willingly so; but when one reflects on the absurdity of not only the case in isolation, but the manner in which human society was arranged in order that this case risks existing in the first place, and that one would then feel compelled to surrender their freedom in aid of repelling the consequences of this absurd arrangement, there really is no better word than absurd. For it is absurd. It simply should not be the case that any human being can be kidnapped, held captive, and tortured without end, meanwhile those who object to the kidnapping, captivity, and torture subsidise the very arrangement that makes the kidnapping, captivity, and torture possible. When one stops to put all of this collectively under the microscope, it really is just that surreal. For it is also not, in any way, a complex question. A man either should or should not have this done to him, and this man’s family either should or should not have to suffer so. And any attempt to make it complex, with flags, costumes, rituals, titles, legislation, processes and procedures, and all the rest of the bureaucratic gobbledygook used to negate morality, to drown out moral objections, to justify keeping a harmless man — a good man — away from his wife and children, only serves to amplify the surreality of its ever happening, and continuing to happen, along with my growing bewilderment at the intolerable evil of it all.
The ability to wander around human civilisation, freely, as I did that day, should be available to everyone. The choice, for oneself, about whether or not to go to the pub, spend the day out with friends, or go home to be with one’s family, as I am sure the Assanges and Shiptons did after an unexpectedly good day, uninfluenced, these all should be liberties that everyone enjoys. That’s what freedom is all about, isn’t it? Doing as one pleases only so far as they care to before surrendering some of this freedom for other, more valuable commitments than merely being free — such as family, marriage, children, and so on — unhindered by anything or anyone else. Human society — in the twenty-first century! — should be a place where there is no tyranny, and no real chance of tyranny, where people being abducted and held ransom is unheard of, and if not, is an exception not an expectation (such as it has become) while one’s living in freedom, or trying to live in freedom (the horribly unenlightened and brutish primitiveness of this state of things continuing to be dominant and championed in this late stage of human development really cannot go unemphasised). I am not imaging that this aspirational world of mine would be perfect or even completely free from anything that resembles those people and organisations that dominate the present one. (If there was terrorism like that inflicted on Assange, it would surely be localised in its scope, fleeting in its duration, manageable in its complexity, not prevailing over all of society, leaving the victims terrified, demoralised, and completely defenceless as the highly organised and systematic governmental kind does today.) But such absurdities as paying for one’s husband, one’s son, one’s brother — and I hope not: one’s father — to be tortured to death, while simultaneously fighting every moment of every day — for almost fifteen years! — for his release, would surely be abolished to this cartoonishly evil present.
But what I would also reflect on is the significance of this, as Stella would put it, “turning point.” I will admit that I do not completely understand the legal ramifications — the gobbledygook — for Assange’s defence team following this decision, by which I mean what they believe this suddenly affords them that they didn’t have before, for him being able to harness first amendment rights should he ever end up in the American government’s hands, I believe, won’t save him if it goes that way in the end, and not extraditing him is good but that doesn’t get him out of prison (that has been the dilemma that has plagued the case ever since he was detained and put in prison). But Stella and those around her understand the opportunity that they have been given for his defence much better than I, so I will place my faith in their hands (no one else could have done a better job with these odds and under these circumstances — I would recommend to the reader The Trial of Julian Assange to see how hopeless any kind of legal defence has looked until now). What I would like to reflect on instead is the significance that a few hundred people stubbornly, persistently, standing in the street singing songs and waving signs can bring about. Because one has to remember, in case the reader has never attended an Assange demonstration in London, that it is only a few hundred — two hundred — people; in fact that might be an overestimation, it barely scratches a few hundred. Sure there are many more hundreds lobbying for his release around the world, but in terms of boots on the ground, standing in front of the court building where the decisions to keep him locked up or send him to a worse prison in the United States are being made, it doesn’t even reach three, four, five hundred people. And the fact that even these few can have such an influence over what is a matter of whether or not a man lives freely or dies in solitude I find profoundly motivating — more motivating even than if it had been hundreds more. Stella would go on to say during her speech, “Everyone can see what should be done here. Julian should be freed. The case should be abandoned. He should be compensated. He should be given the Nobel Prize. He should walk freely, with the sand beneath his feet. He should be able to swim in the sea again;” signing off with what has become a mantra, an effective summation of her fight for her husband’s liberty and dignity, “Free Assange. Free us all.” By this I was incredibly moved, my eyes began to well up, and in the midst of it I would be reminded of a quote from Gandhi I have now grown even more fond of: “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it — always.” I, standing amongst those seemingly insignificant few, recalling these words, “truth and love,” poured over the edge inside. Although a spectator would never suspect it. I simply smiled as I listened and rejoiced inside at being present for one of the moments of triumph for this underestimated few — who have always existed, and have always been few — over the seemingly “invincible” many, for truth and love over the “tyrants and murderers.”
Asking about the decision that had been made by the court that day, I overheard one elderly gentleman respond when given an answer by a young woman attending the demonstration, “Oh, so he’s still locked up then. He’s basically in the same place he was before today. Nothing has really changed.” I would like to protest this lack of celebration for the little things, this reluctance to take the win. For this year, and last year, have been filled with these little triumphs, these minor victories that collectively, slowly but surely, turn the tide in the right direction, that of truth and love.
There was Tucker Carlson’s interview with Putin (a major victory for peace over war, communication over censorship, understanding over hate) and the intelligence agencies and their lapdogs in the EU doing nothing to Tucker in the wake of its release (if one recalls, they threatened him with sanctions, then did nothing).
Regarding the Russo-Ukrainian War, there is also the historic low support for its continuing among Western citizens, even among American Republican politicians and former pro-Ukraine pundits like Konstantin Kisin, rather than reaching some sort of compromise (as was — and is with every war — always going to be the case in the end).
There was the murmur of conscription being reintroduced in England and the subsequent, immediate and unanimous rejection of any such notion as going to fight and die in Ukraine by the youth (this represents a unique moment in history where young people, who would make up the bulk of the conscripts in any military in any other time, including today, outright rejected taking part in war if not war in its entirety; as Einstein would put it, “Nothing will end war unless the people themselves refuse to go to war”).
There was Tucker Carlson’s feud with Ben Shapiro, representing a split between the William F. Buckley-esque neo-conservatives and the emergence — or return home, more properly — of a new anti-war conservatism, with Tucker very much as its face.
Not to mention Candace Owens’ departure from the Daily Wire in the wake of her unexpected emergence as one of the other pioneering voices of the new anti-war conservatism.
There was Javier Milei’s election as president of Argentina — the first anarcho-capitalist to ever be elected into any political office (while politics, I believe, will not lead to anarcho-capitalism, liberty, or anything of the sort, and while if I were an Argentine I would not have participated in his election, for I do not believe in or approve of any sort of political action — for practical and principled reasons — and while his being elected is not significant in and of itself, I can recognise that this does represent a significant cultural shift among the people of Argentina, him being elected indicating that his ideas resonated with those who heard them, enough to convince them to support those ideas, and him as a consequence: the first step toward realising them, with the next and most important step being to convince them that politics and political action is not — and will never be — the means to realise them) — and his subsequent trip to the World Economic Forum’s annual gathering in Davos where he would deliver, to their face, a lecture in proper, Austrian economics that would end with: “Do not be intimidated by the political caste or by parasites who live off the State. Do not surrender to a political class that only wants to stay in power and retain its privileges. You are social benefactors. You are heroes. You are the creators of the most extraordinary period of prosperity we’ve ever seen. Let no one tell you that your ambition is immoral. If you make money, it’s because you offer a better product at a better price, thereby contributing to general wellbeing. Do not surrender to the advance of the State. The State is not the solution. The State is the problem itself. You are the true protagonists of this story, and rest assured that as from today, Argentina is your staunch and unconditional ally. Thank you very much and long live freedom, dammit!”
There was the demise of ESG, or something to the effect of a major retreat, as a reaction to the revolt of consumers against the likes of Budlight.
In tandem with this, there was the unexpected adoption of Bitcoin by the drivers of ESG, namely BlackRock.
There was Dave Smith’s debate with Dennis Prager on the Israel-Palestine conflict (the closest we’ll ever get to a debate with Ben Shapiro, Prager essentially constituting a spiritual predecessor to Shapiro).
Not to mention Smith’s upcoming debate with former CNN anchor Chris Cuomo (which should represent a milestone repudiation of the COVID era and all of its proponents).
There was the milestone of Bitcoin self-custody being at historic highs while custody on exchanges is at historic lows (meaning more and more people are learning about Bitcoin and how to use it properly — and doing so).
There was El Salvador’s pro-Bitcoin president Nayib Bukele being re-elected with 85% of the vote — and with 80-90%+ approval ratings to boot (as with Milei’s political success, I try to look at this objectively, putting aside my disapproval of and aversion to politics and political action, and in so doing can take from this all the cultural wins — which are all that really matter, have long-term effects — that I can; for politics as it pertains to liberty and those who seek it is most practically, at best, perceived as a microphone for broadcasting one’s ideas, rather than as a chainsaw — à la Milei — for implementing them).
There was also his what was previously thought to be impossible success in achieving the complete dissolution of MS-13, whom had terrorised El Salvador, seemingly without end, for decades, transforming El Salvador from one of the most dangerous places in Central America to one of the safest (an example for others to follow).
And there was also Bukele’s putting half a billion dollars of the government’s Bitcoin savings into cold storage (another example for others to follow).
Not to mention his appointing Saifedean Ammous — author of The Bitcoin Standard — as one of El Salvador’s economic advisors.
There was presidential candidates like Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Vivek Ramaswamy making the case for Bitcoin at Bitcoin Amsterdam (Bitcoin doesn’t need them, they need Bitcoin, but it — both the fact that they’re speaking about it and, perhaps more significantly, more indicative of both the technology and the movement’s progression and success, the underlying fact that they feel the need to speak about it in order that they might progress and succeed — still represents a significant shift in public perception of the technology as a serious tool for liberty; such an example of its effect on public perception being RFK Jr.’s speech convincing Jimmy Dore of its necessity for freedom in the digital age).
There was the NHS’s undoing of its submission to transgenderism and reintroduction of biological sex as the only scientific reality it will acknowledge in the wake of the Cass Report.
There was the International Criminal Court’s declaring Israel’s assault on Gaza a genocide (a symbolic victory for truth and love, one over all that really dictates whether things happen or don’t, public opinion, one that might seem small now but will surely be remembered as one of the first major steps toward peace).
There was only the other day the International Criminal Court’s issuance of an arrest warrant for Netanyahu and the leaders of Hamas (again, symbolic, I don’t really imagine any of them will be arrested, least of all Netanyahu, but to put governments and politicians and men in uniforms conducting military operations in the same category as terrorist groups and their leaders and men in rags indiscriminately murdering innocents for ideological purposes is a major victory for those of us who see very little distinction between the two other than size, scope, and how legitimate their activities are perceived by the public).
Not to mention the massive polarisation brought about by this conflict (such polarisation that failed to come during the Russo-Ukrainian conflict) among Democratic voters, amounting to a nearly 50% split between those who believe this is a genocide and those who don’t — this phenomenon evidently not being exclusive to Republicans with the rise of anti-interventionists like Tucker Carlson.
There is the prospect of Biden debating Trump (which should be hilarious if nothing else).
There is the ongoing breaking up of the monopoly on information that is corporate news journalism (mass firings at the Los Angeles Times and the closing of Vice more recently, for example).
And as Julian’s father John mentioned outside the High Court upon the decision to allow Julian to appeal against his extradition to the US, the Australian parliament has voted overwhelmingly in favour of Assange having his charges dropped by the US government.
And this is just to name a few. It is evident that we are living through nothing short of revolutionary times. So while it is also true that there is overwhelming tyranny to meet this spirit of revolution, to attempt to dampen it, and one might feel as if they are constantly being tugged back and forth between hope and despair, remember what Gandhi said: “When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won.” And also remember what Margaret Mead said of the power of the individual, of the seemingly hopeless minority: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” All of these little triumphs, these little “ripples of hope,” as Robert F. Kennedy would call them, while seeming minor at the time, send a signal to others, inspire, accumulate, amount to something great, “those ripples build[ing] a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.” And this something always seems obvious in retrospect, inevitable, unstoppable. That’s always how it’s been throughout history. So don’t lose heart, always take the win, that is the lesson to be drawn from this, never decline to rejoice in a victory, however small or insignificant it may seem in isolation, in the immediate term after its happening — for it is almost never isolated, a lone rebuke of the status quo. And so, in the spirit of this momentum, and to be daring, to tempt fate, after my last successful prediction, and because I had, from nowhere other than in my gut, a good feeling about Assange’s chances that day — fittingly coined by the Assange campaign as “Mayday” — I am going to make another: Julian will be free before the year is over. I don’t know how exactly or under what conditions, but he will be free. That’s my prediction. Here’s hoping I’m right twice.