State of Oppression

I have long believed that the crisis we face today is not confined solely to economic downturns or political scandals—it is woven into the very fabric of our society. In my eyes, the current era is defined by a relentless assault on our collective dignity and freedom. As I observe the mounting injustices around me, I see a world where the ruling classes, desperate to maintain their power, continuously deploy tactics of division, repression, and violence. In my struggle as part of the working class, I find it necessary to reflect upon these issues, exposing the dark logic behind genocidal policies, fascist tendencies, and the anti-trans agenda that is designed to keep the masses under control.

I have always been disturbed by the notion that a state could justify the systematic destruction of a people in the name of self-defense. It is a logic that I see echoed in the policies of certain states today—where acts of mass violence are defended as necessary measures against a fabricated threat. In my view, the insistence that “if we do not eliminate them, they will eliminate us” is not a claim to protection but an excuse for state-sanctioned eliminationism. I observe this same rhetoric used to justify bombings, the destruction of homes, and the systematic targeting of civilians in occupied lands.

In the case of Palestine, for instance, I cannot ignore the brutal reality of what is labeled as self-defense. What is presented as a necessary action to ensure security is, in fact, a calculated attempt to eradicate any semblance of resistance from a people striving for liberation. It is a genocide cloaked in the language of state survival—a contradiction that speaks to the very heart of capitalist imperialism. I see this as a betrayal of the fundamental human right to live with dignity, a betrayal that is driven by profit and the lust for power rather than genuine security.

When I look around, I see clear signs of fascism rearing its head in modern governments. The rise of authoritarian leaders and the embrace of policies that strip away civil liberties are not isolated phenomena; they are part of a broader strategy to concentrate power in the hands of the few. I have witnessed firsthand the erosion of democratic institutions that once served as bulwarks against tyranny. Today, the very institutions that are meant to protect us—our courts, our legislature, our media—are being repurposed to support a regime that thrives on fear and division.

I have seen how the state manipulates the fears of the people to justify draconian measures. From the suppression of dissenting voices to the demonization of entire communities, the tactics of modern fascism are all too familiar. They are reminiscent of a past we should have learned from—a past marked by the horrors of concentration camps and the mass incarceration of minorities. Yet, here we are, witnessing a new form of state power that is as ruthless as it is insidious.

For those of us in the working class, the rise of fascist policies represents not just a political threat but an existential one. It is a direct assault on our rights, our livelihoods, and our ability to determine our own futures. I have seen leaders who claim to defend “order” and “security” while, in reality, they are dismantling the very foundations of democracy. The notion that society must be “purified” of its undesirables is a dangerous fantasy—a fantasy that, if allowed to take root, will only serve to deepen the divide between the elite and the exploited.

No discussion of contemporary oppression would be complete without addressing the assault on trans rights. I view the anti-trans agenda as a calculated effort to marginalize a segment of the population that is already reeling under the weight of systemic injustice. The discourse surrounding trans issues is not simply a cultural debate—it is a political weapon wielded by reactionary forces to further divide and weaken the working class.

In my experience, the attack on trans rights is twofold. On one hand, there is the overt legislative push to deny trans people basic rights such as healthcare, legal recognition, and safe working conditions. On the other, there is an insidious cultural campaign that seeks to delegitimize the very existence of trans individuals. I have encountered countless stories of trans people losing their jobs, facing discrimination in housing and education, and being ostracized from their communities. These are not isolated incidents—they are part of a systemic effort to create a class of citizens who are permanently disenfranchised. I am excluding the toxic extreme version of it that is detrimental.

What is most disturbing to me is how this anti-trans agenda is intertwined with broader reactionary policies. I see the same forces that support the rollback of trans rights also advocating for the erosion of women’s rights, the dismantling of labor protections, and the privatization of essential social services. It is a coordinated assault on any notion of equality—a strategy designed to ensure that only the elite can flourish while the working class is left to fend for itself. In my view, the fight for trans rights is inseparable from the struggle for working-class liberation. Both are battles against a system that values profit over human life and that seeks to maintain control by creating and exploiting divisions among the people.

I have witnessed the gradual dismantling of the state’s role in providing essential services—a process that has left the working class more vulnerable than ever before. As neoliberal policies have taken hold, social services that were once considered a basic right have been progressively privatized. This shift is not accidental; it is a deliberate strategy to weaken the collective power of the people and to ensure that only a privileged few have access to quality care, education, and security.

The consequences of this privatization are dire. I have seen communities where the only option for healthcare is a costly private clinic, where quality education is available only to those who can afford it, and where workers are forced into precarious jobs without any safety net. This is the reality of a society where the state has abdicated its responsibility to protect its citizens. The working class, in its vast majority, is left to bear the burden of this neoliberal experiment—a burden that is only compounded by the rising cost of living, stagnant wages, and the constant threat of unemployment.

In my view, the privatization of social services is one of the most egregious manifestations of state power. It is a tactic designed to erode our collective bargaining power and to create an underclass that is easier to control. When essential services become commodities, the fundamental human rights of healthcare, education, and social security are reduced to privileges available only to those with sufficient means. This is not progress—it is a regression into a system that values money over human life, and it is a system that must be challenged at every turn.

The relentless advance of capitalism has always been accompanied by militarism and state repression. I see a direct connection between the economic exploitation of the working class and the increasing use of violence to maintain control. The military-industrial complex is not an abstract concept—it is a concrete force that shapes our daily lives. I have watched as vast sums of public money are funneled into weapons and security systems, while the needs of ordinary people are left unmet. This, I believe, is a clear manifestation of a state that prioritizes the interests of the ruling elite over the well-being of its citizens.

In my observations, the same state apparatus that supports the privatization of social services also emboldens policies of deportation, mass incarceration, and even the use of lethal force against those who dare to resist. The rhetoric of “national security” is often used as a pretext to justify these measures, but the underlying truth is far more insidious. It is a truth that the working class has long understood: the state is not a neutral arbiter of justice; it is an instrument of capitalist domination.

I have seen how this militaristic mindset has seeped into every aspect of public policy. From the aggressive crackdowns on protests to the normalization of surveillance and censorship, there is a pervasive culture of fear that is being cultivated by those in power. The message is clear: dissent is dangerous, and any challenge to the status quo will be met with force. This is not the mark of a democratic society—it is the hallmark of an authoritarian regime that is determined to silence the voices of the many in favor of the few.

At the heart of all these issues lies one undeniable truth: our struggles are interconnected. I have come to realize that the fight against state violence, genocide, fascism, and the anti-trans agenda is not a series of isolated battles, but rather a unified struggle against a system that seeks to divide us. In my own journey as a working-class, I have learned that solidarity is our greatest weapon. Whether it is the plight of the Palestinian people, the struggle of trans individuals for recognition and rights, or the fight for economic justice in a neoliberal state, these battles are all part of the same war against oppression.

I have dedicated my life to building bridges between communities that have long been pitted against each other by the ruling class. I believe that only by coming together can we challenge the forces that seek to keep us divided and subjugated. It is not enough to fight for our own narrow interests—we must fight for the liberation of all oppressed peoples. The capitalist state thrives on isolation and mistrust, and our unity is the antidote to its toxic influence.

In my view, true liberation will only be achieved when we dismantle the structures that uphold inequality. This means not only challenging the economic policies that exploit workers but also confronting the cultural and ideological forces that dehumanize entire groups of people. I see the struggle for trans rights, the resistance against fascist policies, and the fight for Palestinian liberation as different facets of the same revolutionary project—a project that aims to reclaim human dignity and restore the power of the people.

So Can We Forge a New Path?

As I look around at the state of our society, I cannot help but feel a profound sense of urgency. The forces of oppression are gathering strength, fueled by the profits of unchecked capitalism and the ambitions of authoritarian leaders. Yet, even in the darkest moments, I remain convinced that change is possible. I have witnessed moments of solidarity and resistance that remind me that the working class is not powerless. Every act of defiance, every protest, and every collective effort is a step toward a more just and equitable future.

I know that the road ahead will be long and fraught with challenges. The system we are up against is deeply entrenched, and its mechanisms of control are both sophisticated and brutal. But I also know that the human spirit is resilient. I have seen communities come together in times of crisis, forging bonds that transcend the artificial divisions imposed by those in power. It is in these moments that I am reminded of the transformative power of solidarity—the power to turn despair into hope, and hope into action.

For me, the struggle is not just about economic justice or political reform—it is about reclaiming our humanity. I believe that every person deserves the right to live free from the fear of state violence, economic exploitation, and cultural marginalization. Whether it is the right to affordable healthcare, the right to define one’s own identity without state interference, or the right to live without the constant threat of militarized repression, these are not abstract ideals. They are the fundamental rights that every human being is entitled to, regardless of their background, identity, or class.

I have always maintained that the path to liberation lies in our ability to see ourselves as part of a larger whole. The struggles for trans rights, for Palestinian freedom, and for the dignity of the working class are all intertwined. They are battles against a common enemy—a state and a system that seek to divide and conquer. I stand firm in my conviction that only by recognizing our shared struggle can we hope to build a future that is truly just and free.

In my own journey, I have encountered cynics and skeptics who claim that these issues are too complex or that the forces of oppression are simply too powerful. But I reject this fatalism. I reject the notion that history is predetermined or that the powerful will always triumph. Instead, I believe in the transformative potential of collective action. I believe that when ordinary people come together with a common purpose, they can reshape the world in their own image.

Every day, I wake up with a fierce determination to contribute to this struggle. I see the pain of my fellow workers, the discrimination faced by those who defy societal norms, and the relentless assault on human dignity as a call to action. I refuse to remain silent in the face of injustice. I choose instead to raise my voice, to stand in solidarity with those who are oppressed, and to fight for a world where every person is valued for who they truly are.

As I write these words, I am fully aware that our struggle is far from over. The forces of oppression are adaptive and persistent, and the battle for our rights is an ongoing one. Yet, I remain hopeful. I am inspired by the countless acts of resistance that I witness every day—by workers who risk everything to organize, by trans activists who defy hatred with courage, and by communities that refuse to be broken by the weight of state violence. These acts of defiance remind me that our collective power is far greater than the sum of its parts.

In the end, I cannot help but ask myself—and all of you who share this journey—what kind of future are we willing to accept? Is it a future defined by the relentless drive for profit at the expense of human life, where genocide, fascism become normalized tools of state control? Or can we, the working class, rise up together and forge a new path, one that honors the dignity of every individual and dismantles the oppressive structures of capitalism?

I leave you with this question: In a world where our lives are continuously threatened by the forces of state violence and economic exploitation, can we find the strength to build a future rooted in solidarity, equality, and true human liberation?