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Yes, the German Democratic Republic was socialist—and we have much to learn from it

Response to ‘Red Flag: No, East Germany wasn’t socialist—and neither is “democratic socialism”’

DDR stamp featuring the bust of Karl Marx with a colorful cityscape in the background.

In early September, Die Linke leader Heidi Reichinnek made headlines after claiming her party’s vision of “democratic socialism” had nothing to do with the German Democratic Republic (GDR): “What we had in the GDR wasn’t socialism. At least not the kind my party envisions.” Germany’s conservatives soon jumped in to disagree: “The GDR was pure socialism. It was an unjust state.” Rather than counter this narrative, Nathaniel Flakin recently wrote an article which—though critical of her party’s programme of “democratic socialism”—agrees with Reichinnek’s assessment of the GDR. According to Flakin, “a society can only be described as socialist if it meets Marx’s criteria of evolving towards the abolition of classes and the state” and the GDR “did anything but wither [away].”

Underlying both Reichinnek’s and Flakin’s arguments are the anti-GDR talking points that have long been propagated in the Federal Republic of Germany (formerly “West Germany”). The GDR is said to have been thoroughly undemocratic or, as Flakin puts it, a “Stalinist state” ruled by a “privileged bureaucracy, obsessed with control.” The lack of democracy and “suppression of all criticism” was not only “an insult to human dignity”, it also “produced constant inefficiencies” and prevented “good planning.” The GDR is presented as a caricature of bumbling, self-enriching bureaucrats who could only uphold their ailing system through mass surveillance. Rather than being a point of reference that progressives can learn from, the GDR should be written off as nothing more than a “footnote of history” (Stefan Heym). Reichinnek and Flakin assure us that their versions of socialism will be different.

Decontextualization and distortion

Such arguments against the GDR follow a similar pattern. First, a real and concrete problem in the GDR is identified. It is then taken out of its historical context and greatly exaggerated, before being generalized as a core, indefinite characteristic of the “Stalinist state.” Historical developments are distorted and decontextualized to create the impression that the GDR was broken and chronically ailing society. Flakin does exactly this when describing the East German economy. It is indeed true that the GDR faced significant challenges such as raising labour productivity or finding an adequate mechanism for price setting in the planned economy. However, blanket statements about “constant inefficiencies” are simply inaccurate and misleading.

The GDR economy proved itself to be robust and efficient over its 40-year existence. From 1949 until 1989, not a single year of stagnation or recession was recorded. In fact, in a paper published by Professor Gerhard Heske in 2009, East Germany’s annual growth rate (4.5%) is shown to have exceeded West Germany’s (4.3%) during the era of socialist planning (1951 to 1989). Data on the production and consumption of consumer goods confirms that the GDR was able to achieve the official objective of “meeting the growing material and cultural needs of the population” and thus progressively improving living standards.

Detractors of the GDR invariably ignore the context in which this socialist state operated. Since Germany’s heavy industries had historically been concentrated in the western regions of the country and due to the heavy damage inflicted on eastern Germany during the end phase of the Second World War, the GDR was compelled to construct large-scale industries from scratch in the late 1940s. The means of investment for this endeavour had to be accumulated internally, for East Germany possessed neither overseas colonies nor foreign benefactors (in contrast to West Germany, which received massive capital inflows through the Marshall Plan). The GDR alone had to rectify the damage inflicted by Hitler’s war after the Western powers violated the Potsdam Agreement and suspended reparation payments to the Soviet Union in 1946. Western sanctions also meant that trade with the resource-rich Ruhr Area in the West was no longer possible. All in all, seventy percent of East Germany’s pre-war industrial capacity was no longer available after 1945, which meant that living standards and productivity in the East were only nearly half of what they were in the West.

Through the resolute effort of millions of workers and through the efficient socialist planning system, the GDR was able to increase the volume of investment more than three-fold during the decade of socialist construction in the 1950s. By 1989, industrial production had increased by a factor of 12.3, and the gross domestic product had quintupled. These achievements were made possible by socialist property relations and the scientifically grounded planning process: far from being syphoned off and consumed by an exploitative “privileged bureaucracy,” the GDR’s surplus product was accumulated in the public hand and consciously reinvested to accelerate industrialization and economic development. The intricate planning system was structured around the Leninist principle of democratic centralism: economists and planning specialists collected data and analysed international and technological developments to draft perspective plans for the GDR’s economy. Workers and mass organizations then collectively discussed and amended these plans at the factory and neighbourhood levels. These plans thus combined complex expertise with democratic legitimacy.

Flakin withholds the title of socialism from the GDR because it failed to fulfil Leon Trotsky’s pronouncement that “socialism must increase human productivity, or it has no historical justification.” Here again, Flakin not only ignores the disadvantageous starting conditions in East Germany, but he also distorts reality. The GDR was in fact able to achieve a permanent increase in labour productivity throughout its existence. Even during the 1970s, when foreign trade was greatly affected by global energy crises and the GDR struggled to balance domestic accumulation and consumption rates, labour productivity continued to rise, albeit at slower rates than in previous decades. Many factors contributed to this trend, including the serious shortage of workers (meaning that existing production capacities could not be maximally utilised) and the political decision to prioritize consumer goods over industrial investments after 1971. These factors did not, however, alter the socialist nature of the GDR. It would be prudent to learn from the challenges that previous socialist states faced rather than brush them aside with the claim that “next time will be different.”

It is important to emphasize that the aforementioned economic problems did not lead to the “collapse” of GDR. Despite unsettled questions around pricing policies, labour productivity, and accumulation rates, the GDR was able to meet its domestic and international obligations and pay all wages until its final days of existence. The infamous accusations of bankruptcy are part of the narrative that seeks to discredit socialist planned economies: in 1989, East Germany’s debt-to-GDP ratio (roughly 19 percent) was less than half of West Germany’s (42 percent). In truth, the GDR was able to fundamentally change the face of the formerly underdeveloped agricultural region of East Germany and—in the span of just 40 years—propel the country into the ranks of the top fifteen industrialised states in the world.

Undemocratic socialism?

Flakin and Reichinnek may disagree on Die Linke’s vision of “democratic socialism”, but they do agree on one thing: the GDR was certainly not democratic. This conclusion is easy to reach if one measures the GDR by the standards of bourgeois constitutionality: the separation of powers, the protection of private property, and equality before the law. Marxists have long argued that these principles were created by and for the capitalist class. Private property necessarily curtails democracy and limits popular rule over significant sectors of society. In a society divided into poor and rich, de jure equality can only lead to de facto inequality. Recognizing this reality, communists and social democrats in East Germany never sought to establish the GDR as a bourgeois constitutional state. They aimed to construct a fundamentally different type of democracy in which public ownership over the means of production would be enshrined in law and developed further by the people. The planning system was a core element of this idea: planning was understood as a social relation in which the people were to become increasingly active and conscious of their role as co-creators of society. Democracy was thus conceived of as a process, a continuous task to be deepened throughout the course of socialism.

 The foundation for the GDR’s socialist democracy was laid during the so-called “anti-fascist upheaval” of the late 1940s. The East German economy was radically democratized through a land reform that redistributed the aristocrats’ lands to the peasants and the expropriation of industrial monopolists, which led to the creation of Volkseigene Betriebe (“companies owned by the people”). Economic power was thereby devolved to the working masses. Far from being bureaucratic policies from above, these measures were carried out by the people themselves. The Soviet military administration made a point to entrust the German people with the task of identifying and investigating which companies and estates should be marked for expropriation. Tens of thousands of workers and peasants joined so-called Sequester Commissions and Land Reform Commissions to collectively scrutinize their employers’ participation in Hitler’s Third Reich. Suddenly, workers and landless farmers found themselves entitled to investigate secret business records and uncover the connection between capitalism and fascism. In West Germany, on the other hand, popular efforts to socialize industries and banks were quashed by the authorities, despite democratic referenda on the issue. The “anti-fascist upheaval” of the late 1940s and “socialist construction” of the 1950s were profoundly democratic in both content and form. The claim that such major social feats were achieved through oppression and coercion is nonsensical.

Flakin claims that the GDR “suppressed all criticism.” In countless interviews with former GDR citizens, we heard otherwise. The factory and neighbourhood committees were in fact places of heated and controversial debate. Whereas in capitalism, democracy stops as soon as you enter the workplace, democracy in the GDR began behind the door of the factory or office. As a “workers’ and peasants’ state”, the GDR guaranteed employees the right to participate in factory management as well as a long list of social rights such as health and childcare, company holiday resorts, and further education. Many of these rights were laid out in the Labour Law, which was passed in 1961 after some 7 million citizens discussed and suggested over 23,000 amendments to the original draft. These laws authorized the workers themselves to monitor company directors and ensure adherence to health protections and workplace democracy. Company directors did not own the factories and could not enrich themselves off the backs of the workers; they were de facto employees of the state and merely charged with the supervision of public property. Workers who felt mistreated could complain through their union or the popular Eingabensystem (“system of appeal”), which guaranteed citizens the right to a response within four weeks. The extension of democracy into the economy also impacted the countryside, where the creation of cooperative structures helped to not only democratize decision-making processes, but also offered farmers and peasants the previously unknown benefits of paid holidays, childcare, and cultural activities.

In the GDR, all areas of society were to be democratized by drawing the masses into everyday governing. Citizens had the right—and the means—to participate in decisions not only regarding the workplace, but also the education of children, the distribution of housing, the development of the neighbourhood, and legal mediation. A pioneering aspect of socialist democracy was the mass organisations, including the Free German Trade Union Federation, the Peasants Mutual Aid Association, the Democratic Women’s League of Germany, the Cultural Association of the GDR, and the Free German Youth. These organisations were connected and interwoven with all areas of society to ensure representation for different groups. The Women’s League, for example, was guaranteed representation in residential committees, schools, cultural centers, and parliament, where it helped advance women’s economic emancipation from men. In contrast to the unions and organizations in capitalist societies, the GDR’s mass organizations were not fragmented and treated as private lobby groups; they were political organizations empowered by the state to encourage the collective deliberation and implementation of socialist policies.

The judiciary, which in capitalist societies is typically far-removed from popular will, was also democratized in the GDR. So-called societal courts were set up in workplaces and residential areas to address conflicts and problems in direct and relatable ways. Members of the courts consisted of one’s peers, for they were elected by the people directly. Workers, teachers, scientists, craftsmen, and artists were all practicing law to help settle issues. Through the courts, the mass organizations, and the Eingabensystem, GDR citizens had many ways to bring about concrete changes in their everyday lives.

Recognizing these institutions as innovations of socialist democracy in no way precludes critical appraisal. It is clear when assessing GDR history that while certain periods were marked by rapid advances, others were characterized by stagnation. The latter phases should be analyzed in their historical context if we are to learn anything from them. It cannot be forgotten that the GDR was located on the frontline of the “Cold War,” with West German leaders openly declaring the intention “to do everything and to take every measure to retake [East Germany].” Nevertheless, socialist democracy is an evolving process in which citizens must increasingly recognize and use the means of production and the instruments of democracy as their own. This requires the consistent use and further development of established institutions. In the GDR, there are clear signs that this process slowed down towards the 1980s. But, again, such developments did not change the socialist character of the GDR. Rather, they point us to a problem that all post-capitalist states have faced in the past: how can revolutionary momentum be maintained in the long run to ensure that social relations continue to evolve? It is especially difficult when this necessity to open up institutions and broaden democracy comes into tension with the need to defend against counterrevolution and external threats. The GDR was by no means the only socialist state to face this challenge of balancing democracy with security, and it would be naïve to believe that future attempts to construct socialism will be free of it. As Lenin wrote in 1920: “The proletariat’s conquest of political power does not put a stop to its class struggle against the bourgeoisie; on the contrary, it renders that struggle most widespread, intense, and ruthless.” Praxis—not abstract speculation—is the criterion of truth. The idea that the state will immediately begin withering away under “true socialism” is a regression to the utopianism Marx and Engels criticized so sharply in their time. Instead of kow-towing to the ruling narrative and disowning the GDR, we must uphold it as Germany’s first socialist state. The collective efforts of millions of GDR citizens have given us four decades of praxis to learn from. By reclaiming this history as our own and investigating it on our own terms, we can gain a deeper perspective on the fundamental possibilities and difficulties that arise when constructing social, economic, and political models beyond capitalism.

On Tyranny today: Twenty lessons in practice

A durational (street) performance in Serbia based on Timothy Snyder’s book


26/09/2025

Graffiti translated to, "To become a policeman is to betray."

It seems we consume everything and everyone today, including ourselves. We have lost a clear sense of what freedom is. If we do not trade our labour for it, it is unattainable. Much like democracy: without an abundant budget, it collapses. Paradoxically, fascism often begins for free. In such circumstances, tyrants are always cast as the saviours of the nation in the first act. Once we transition to the next act, we can no longer distinguish reality from myth and fabricated truths, as if the storage of centuries of knowledge had been erased and the operating system of each of us reset, leaving us to absorb whatever is served at the moment. We are losing our grasp inhabiting a liminal space—not one of ritual, but an unexpiring period of semi-blindness and semi-life.

In this light, a book like this must remain within daily reach—as a reminder of an anti-tyrannical lifestyle in times when tyrants hold global power, peoples are oppressed as if genocide were not occurring, and the world persists in silence, preoccupied with consumerism instead of demanding demanding the termination of brutalities and accountability. We are, after all, intelligent beings and human enough (although Franco Bifo Berardi noted at Miss Read Art Book Fair in Berlin that humanity has become ridiculed) to envision a wiser future, informed by historical and contemporary research, refusing to allow anyone to monopolise our ethical reason and empathetic heart.

Snyder approaches tyranny ontologically, recalling times when women and animals were regarded as equivalent, and tracing its evolution through slavery, colonialism, and imperialism. According to him, European history has witnessed three major democratic moments: following the First World War in 1918, after the Second World War in 1945, and after the end of Communism in 1989. Meanwhile, economics and global trade have fostered mass politics, while idealised, quasi-divine leaders have collapsed democracies into right-wing authoritarianism and fascism—rejecting reason in the name of “reason” and turning back to mythomania and messianic promises of salvation from the Other, usually evil and external. Somewhat simplistically, Snyder equates fascism and communism, a tendency I regard as problematic within mainstream liberal philosophy, though I will not dwell on this further.

The book encourages us to apply the knowledge acquired in the twentieth century, offering twenty lessons for resisting contemporary threats to democracy. Notably, Snyder references Orwell, Arendt, and Kiš within a shared anti-totalitarian context, reminding us of these thinkers in case we have forgotten—or never encountered them, as may be true for Danilo Kiš from Yugoslavia/Serbia. Kiš was persecuted as an intellectual and labeled an enemy of the state, a fate that resonates today with the precarious position of universities and critical thought worldwide. A concrete example can be found in Serbia, where students and their professors have, for ten months, resisted with educated courage and principled disobedience. They accepted the consequences and refused to sit passively in a waiting room for justice and “anti-fascist living”. No other approach would work with tyrants, especially within neoliberal systems that undermine solidarity and leave no one safe, often through the selective application of law. When states and international institutions fail to protect us, we must exercise self-protection. Serbian students, together with those who joined them, have successfully embodied Snyder’s twenty lessons. In the following text, I aim to substantiate this, quoting the introduction to each lesson.

1. DO NOT OBEY IN ADVANCE                                                                                        

Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.” (p.17)

This behaviour begins locally and then spreads across the country like a self-managed network of obedience, becoming an unquestioned constant in the political system. Citizens believe such conduct preserves them and their families, but in reality, it only entrenches economic and socio-political slavery.

By contrast, Serbian students and their allies have inverted this “game”: they teach power what it can no longer do, compelling the repressive government to confront the very wishes and demands that students themselves imposed. In doing so, they expose the regime’s illegal and criminal deeds, signalling the necessity for each citizen to ask whether their own servile complicity places them in violation of the law.

2. DEFEND INSTITUTIONS

“It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of “our institutions” unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after another unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about — a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union — and take its side.” (p.22)

Serbia is a kidnapped state with institutions that are consequently compromised. Students have resolved to reclaim them, persistently reminding these bodies of their fundamental functions. It is an arduous struggle against a deeply entrenched system of corruption that encompasses the courts, the Prosecutor’s Office, the Regulatory Authority for Electronic Media (REM), the Republic Electoral Commission (RIK), and Radio Television of Serbia (RTS). In the process, students have also built connections with various labour unions. Yet much work remains before they can truly declare: the institutions are ours, and it is our responsibility to safeguard them henceforth.

3. BEWARE THE ONE-PARTY STATE 

The parties that remade states and suppressed rivals were not omnipotent from the start. They exploited a historic moment to make political life impossible for their opponents. So support the multi-party system and defend the rules of democratic elections. Vote in local and state elections while you can. Consider running for office.” (p.26)

This is precisely what has happened in Serbia, persisting now for thirteen years. The opposition has been dismantled, and politics has become a realm that decent citizens avoid. In response, students have initiated a repoliticisation of the public sphere, effectively proving the theory: the private is political. Given the stage of the Leviathan in Serbia—marked by its ignorance and defamation of opponents—students and their allies have demanded both republic and presidential elections, despite the clearly undemocratic conditions already confirmed by the European Union in December 2024.

Meanwhile, rebelling citizens have organised themselves and built grassroots connections across the country, many of whom are prepared to monitor and protect the very exercise of elections. The president, who once called elections at will with unshakeable confidence in his victory, now speaks only of the possibility of elections in 2027. At the same time, students are preparing their own political list of non-compromised representatives and experts. Since the opposition in Serbia is far too weak to run an election without serious reorganisation and strategic planning, many individuals who would never have considered entering the political arena are now more than ready to participate.

4. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE FACE OF THE WORLD

The symbols of today enable the reality of tomorrow. Notice the swastikas and the other signs of hate. Do not look away, and do not get used to them. Remove them yourself and set an example for others to do so.” (p.32)

Aware of the self-proclaimed Serbian Progressive Party State, students are risking everything for absolute democracy, giving their country a hand-made “facelift” by reclaiming its flag, anthem, and Republic Day. This achievement was reinforced by long, nationwide marches that united citizens in committed solidarity.

At the same time, the regime regularly labels students and their supporters as fascists, terrorists, Nazis, and the like—culminating in a large banner displayed in the center of Belgrade that read: “Better ćaci (a neologism for the regime’s proponents) than Nazi”, with the swastika visibly crossed out. Two women destroyed the banner, but they were arrested—not the mastermind who had used the prohibited symbol under Serbian law. Thinking and acting beyond the local, students also rode bicycles and ran a relay marathon to Strasbourg, i.e., Brussels, reminding the EU of its own democratic values.

5. REMEMBER PROFESSIONAL ETHICS

When political leaders set a negative example, professional commitments to just practice become more important. It is hard to subvert a rule-of-law state without lawyers, or to hold show trials without judges. Authoritarians need obedient civil servants, and concentration camp directors seek businessmen interested in cheap labor.” (p.38)

Professionally ethical, students are doing their job: engaging in critical thinking, bridging past, present, and future, and prioritising futurabilities. When they encounter gaps in their competencies, they turn to professors and other professionals for assistance. There is no shame in not knowing—only in pretending to possess expertise in everything (cf. the Serbian president). Among the first supporters of the students was the Bar Association of Serbia. Together, they demonstrated to the public that the law is not inherently against them; rather, citizens’ indoctrinated ignorance and mistrust have led them to abandon reliance on it. In addition, lawyers and judges who serve state power are now being publicly denounced and will be held accountable as soon as the juridical system is restored and the executive is separated from the legislative branch.

Extrapolating to a more global level, European business interests are focused on Serbian lithium, while Serbian autocrats locally sell the narrative of immense economic prosperity, “beautifying” the harsh reality that this country is also a site of cheap labor extraction, as if we cannot consult independent scientists and corporate lawyers.

6. BE WARY OF PARAMILITARIES

“When the men with guns who have always claimed to be against the system start wearing uniforms and marching with torches and pictures of leaders, the end is nigh. When the pro-leader paramilitary and the official police and military intermingle, the end has come.” (p.42)

Although not paramilitaries in the strict sense, plainclothes police, state-organised hooligans, and loyalists function as informal instruments of state violence and intimidation. Since the police usually act not as neutral enforcers of the constitution and law but as servants of a single individual, this is blatant proof that democracy is absent in Serbia.

Fortunately, students and their supporters have recognised and mobilised their own disruptive agencies, successfully deconstructing the uniforms and accessories that have, for decades, been celebrated here—even allowing war criminals to be hailed as national heroes. They have read the police oath aloud in the streets, face-to-face with fully equipped officers, often masked with balaclavas. Such menace can be paralysing for civil disobedience, yet in this case it has clearly accelerated the regime’s self-destruction.

7. BE REFLECTIVE IF YOU MUST BE ARMED

“If you carry a weapon in public service, may God bless you and keep you. But know that evils of the past involved policemen and soldiers finding themselves, one day, doing irregular things. Be ready to say no!” (p.47)

This is an alarming reality. The forces of state control deploy unnecessary violence against unarmed and peaceful citizens—particularly students and high school pupils—who never initiate attacks but at most attempt self-protection, often linguistically. One such instance was an invitation to the police to march alongside the protesters in order to secure order and peace.

The students’ main weapons are their own bodies, hands raised, which the police regularly misuse as a pretext to beat them without reason. And yet, the students persist, reciting a poem by the late Serbian academic Ljubomir Simović (1985):

“I will rise,
crushed, shattered, oppressed,
at steel armies
with a wooden sword…”

This raises an urgent question: how long will the police forces continue to obey the orders of a regime acting against its own people, determined only to prolong its stay in power, while the EU turns a blind eye? Since protesters consistently remind the police of their legal obligations, they may soon begin quoting Snyder as well.

8. STAND OUT

Someone has to. It is easy to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. Remember Rosa Parks. The moment you set an example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow.” (p.51)

Students are practicing this with the utmost determination. They have stood out and articulated a different reality, opening horizons of new possibilities for the country. Fully aware of the possible consequences, they have shown a readiness to confront tabloids and corrupt politicians intelligently, dismantling their lies, plagiarism, and other manipulations. Their actions have liberated many other citizens, both domestically and diasporically, and even inspired parallel struggles, such as in Georgia.

People are following, but this time with eyes wide open, as the movement encourages everyone to reflect and participate directly, contributing to a shared goal and embodying plurality through collaborative diversity.

9. BE KIND TO OUR LANGUAGE

Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. Make an effort to separate yourself from the internet. Read books.” (p.59)

Students first read the Blockade Cook. They generously introduced us to a new constitution-based mantra—“You’re not authorised!”—as a way of addressing the president. They emancipated all the dialects of Serbia in a gesture of linguistic solidarity that strengthened connection and trust across communities. They simply began calling things by their names—a subversive act in a country of multilayered propaganda. At once digital and analogue, they embody a practice of factual agitation.

10. BELIEVE IN TRUTH

To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis upon which to do so. If nothing is true, then all is spectacle. The biggest wallet pays for the most blinding lights.” (p.65)

Students managed to “de-fake” news and dismantle the spread of alternative facts in the public sphere. They decoded the regime’s spectacle, often parodying it and debunking its lies in real time, in highly creative and sharp ways. This is surely one of the main reasons why so many citizens have joined their side—the side where truth resides.

11. INVESTIGATE

Figure things out for yourself. Spend more time with long articles. Subsidize investigative journalism by subscribing to print media. Realize that some of what is on the internet is there to harm you. Learn about sites that investigate propaganda campaigns (some of which come from abroad). Take responsibility for what you communicate with others.” (p.72)

Students are the newest socio-political investigators. In light of the long-standing absence of genuine journalism in the main public sphere, they have competently assumed this role—consulting with experts and drawing on the support of their professors. Numerous NGOs engaged in investigative journalism, socio-political monitoring, and research also stand by their side. Their inquiries extend beyond politics to economics and ecology. While exposing the harms associated with the internet, they also employ it as an ally in a country where media freedom is under constant threat. They refrain from communicating until facts are verified, paying careful attention to timing and to language itself, which has already been blatantly polluted by the dominant actors of political discourse.

12. MAKE EYE CONTACT AND SMALL TALK

“This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.” (p.81)

I would argue that this is an area in which the students possess exceptional skills, demonstrated through acts of countrywide intergenerational hugging and collective crying. They made people in remote parts of Serbia feel seen and relevant. By reintroducing fundamental human values, they reclaimed their significance for strengthening the social body. They reminded us that solidarity dismantles alienation and shifts fear onto the side of the oppressor, who will no longer so easily perpetuate cycles of corruption and intimidation. They also restored the diaspora’s sense of belonging to the home country. In doing so, students have definitively liberated citizens from psychological and moral self-oppression.

13. PRACTICE CORPOREAL POLITICS

“Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.” (p.83)

We assumed that Generation Z was active only in the digital world, but we were wonderfully mistaken. Students have transformed Serbian public space into a parliament of body politics. They resist, demand, and disrupt. They have created a collective, disobedient body that—though vulnerable and heavily precarised in a non-democratic state—refuses invisibility and silence. In the longer run, this multiplies the occasions to be bold and daring.

14. ESTABLISH A PRIVATE LIFE

Nastier rulers will use what they know about you to push you around. Scrub your computer of malware on a regular basis. Remember that email is skywriting. Consider using alternative forms of the internet, or simply using it less.

Have personal exchanges in person. For the same reason, resolve any legal trouble. Tyrants seek the hook on which to hang you. Try not to have hooks.” (p.87)

The students have never presented themselves as experts; they are still learning by doing, particularly after being illegally spied on and persecuted without any justification from the state. They actively share their knowledge, and in this way began disseminating information on how to keep certain matters private. Lawyers have provided significant assistance in this process. Citizens are gradually becoming educated about their own rights, developing familiarity with the law and the constitution after long experiencing them as instruments of disadvantage. Recognising the protective functions of the state apparatus, and learning to employ them effectively, certainly requires both engagement and careful reflection.

15. CONTRIBUTE TO GOOD CAUSES

Be active in organizations, political or not, that express your own view of life. Pick a charity or two and set up autopay. Then you will have made a free choice that supports civil society and helps others to do good.” (p.92)

Over the past ten months, students have consistently directed their efforts toward socially beneficial causes. Organised in plenums, they actively engage in the management of everyday life, whether within their faculties, affiliated institutions, or public spaces across Serbia. In doing so, they set a compelling example for citizens, demonstrating the possibilities of participation and self-determination in both local and broader communities (e.g., citizens’ assemblies).

Their initiatives have included fundraising for colleagues’ medical treatments (a widespread necessity in Serbia, where SMS-based donations are often relied upon), organising charity fairs, and mobilising aid for those affected by recent wildfires across several regions. When individuals are persecuted by the state for their socio-political positions, the students do not abandon them; instead, they coordinate support both locally and within the diaspora, as exemplified by the case of a bus driver.

16. LEARN FROM PEERS IN OTHER COUNTRIES

Keep up your friendships abroad, or make new friends in other countries. The present difficulties in the United States are an element of a larger trend. And no country is going to find a solution by itself. Make sure you and your family have passports.” (p.95)

Authentically friendly and open-minded, students delight in building new friendships. Some even cycled and ran a relay marathon across Europe to facilitate mutual exchange of knowledge and information. In the 21st century!? They can be a bit silly, too. Their connections extend to peers engaged in parallel struggles in Georgia, North Macedonia, Montenegro, Slovakia, Turkey, Hungary, and beyond. This is a generation that does not aspire to abandon the country, even though they are fully aware that the current regime plays dirty and unlawfully. They are therefore prepared to protect both themselves and others, recognising that this fight is a marathon, not a sprint.

At the same time, I would gladly see other countries—especially their students—learning from them: resisting state oppression against freedom of speech and the right to peaceful assembly, and reasoning beyond the so-called reason of the state itself.

17. LISTEN FOR DANGEROUS WORDS

Be alert to the use of the words extremism and terrorism. Be alive to the fatal notions of emergency and exception. Be angry about the treacherous use of patriotic vocabulary.” (p.99)

As individuals who have undergone a state-induced transition—from “good, but manipulated kids” to “fascists and terrorists determined to dismantle the constitutional order”—students understand the intricate relationship between language and power, even before engaging with Foucault, Derrida, Althusser, and others. They have shown that what the president attempts to sell as ballot bait is nothing more than patrioticised nationalism, and in doing so, they have undertaken crucial conceptual redefinitions. Though deeply angered, they remain neither rude nor manipulative, nor do they step into the regime-nourished petit bourgeois garden.

18. BE CALM WHEN THE UNTHINKABLE ARRIVES

Modern tyranny is terror management. When the terrorist attack comes, remember that authoritarians exploit such events in order to consolidate power. The sudden disaster that requires the end of checks and balances, the dissolution of opposition parties, the suspension of freedom of expression, the right to a fair trial, and so on, is the oldest trick in the Hitlerian book. Do not fall for it.” (p.103)

When the state practiced sonic terror, students remained calm and helped others compose themselves. When the state attributed its own acts of terror to disobedient citizens, it was immediately exposed, leading to yet another loss of authority for the regime. They categorically refuse to emulate Hitler’s students—though some pro-regime professors have willingly become just that. Instead, they have resolved to keep rising, bringing us along with them. They leave no one behind, not a single antifascist.

19. BE A PATRIOT

“Set a good example of what America means for the generations to come. They will need it.” (p.111)

Students love their country, and this time their brains are not draining abroad. It makes the tyrants panic. They are already planning for their future children and have made the diaspora feel welcome to return without regrets. To be a patriot, perhaps, also means living one’s mother tongue lively.

20. BE AS COURAGEOUS AS YOU CAN

“If none of us is prepared to die for freedom, then all of us will die under tyranny.” (p.115)

They are braver than they themselves could have imagined. They are preparing us for freedom. Now we all proclaim loudly: THERE’S NO GOING BACK! WE WILL WIN THIS! And the people of the Balkans carry mountains in their hearts. Have you ever seen anything more enduring than that geography?

As Stanley (2018) emphasised, fascism also operates through anti-intellectualism and the systematic attack on experts—a dynamic Serbian students directly confront by mobilising knowledge, critical thought, and solidarity. Yet Braidotti and Dolphijn (2023) remind us: “The crucial question however is: who and how many are ‘we,’ those who desire an anti-fascist life?” The students’ example provisionally answers that even under extreme repression, “we” can be created, expanded, and sustained through courageous, collective action—believing in a brighter future as scientists, rather than as religious or other fanatics.

Snyder’s political theory proves far more potent in practice.



















Red Flag: Your tax money for Israeli war propaganda

In his weekly column, Nathaniel Flakin looks at an exhibition coming to Tempelhof Airport in less than two weeks


24/09/2025

Ever since Tempelhof Airport closed for air traffic back in 2008, the debates about what to do with the gargantuan Nazi building haven’t let up.

Just as the United Nations Human Rights Council have determined that Israel is indeed committing genocide in Gaza, Berlin Mayor Kai Wegner (CDU) has offered Tempelhof’s main hall for a display of Israeli war propaganda. An exhibition about the Nova music festival, where 378 Israelis were killed by Hamas fighters, is set to open on October 7.

After stops in New York City—where organizers claimed there were 100,000 visitors—as well as Los Angeles and Washington, the exhibition will be on display in Berlin. As Tagesspiegel have reported, the government is paying 1,383,840.33 euros for this, at a time when the city’s culture budget is being slashed by 110 million euros.

Context?

Far-right tabloid B.Z. claims that the Nova festival was the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. As I have written before, this is false. The biggest massacre of Jews since 1945 was the Argentinian military coup of 1976—which was supported by the United States, the Federal Republic of Germany, and Israel (and, of course, also by Springer newspapers like B.Z.)

The one-hour documentary on October 7 from Al Jazeera Investigations includes images of gruesome war crimes—such as Hamas fighters firing on civilians as they cower in a bunker at minute 19:00)—but without omitting the context. The attack was not directed at a “site of peace and love”; people were dancing next to the barbed-wire fence of an open-air prison. October 7 took place after 75 years of settler colonialism and ethnic cleansing, in what Israeli historian Ilan Pappé has called an “incremental genocide”.

The recreation of the Nova festival—one reviewer called it a “nightmare vision of the Instagram museum” full of “flashing haunted house tactics”—is intended to make us forget everything that happened before and after. Visitors are supposed to feel empathy for 378 Israelis, yet nothing for at least 65,000 murdered Palestinians.

On October 7, a total of 36 Israeli children were killed. Israel has murdered an average of 28 children every single day since then. Why do only some children deserve remembrance? It feels quaint to say that every human life has equal value. As bourgeois society eats itself alive, it abandons any pretense of universalism.

Selective empathy is a hallmark of imperialism: “our” people deserve empathy, while the others are “human animals”, in the words of Israeli war criminal Yoav Gallant.

War propaganda

In a long and moving essay in the Guardian, Naomi Klein draws a fascinating parallel between current Israeli propaganda and the Indian Rebellion of 1857-68. Even as the British Empire massacred over 100,000 civilians in the colony, people in the metropolis were shown “horror-filled propaganda art” including “the Treacherous Massacre of English Women and Children”. The most high-tech visuals of the time, like wrap-around panoramas, were used to evoke empathy for civilian colonizers in order to justify violence against the colonized. As Naomi Klein puts it:

“Consumers of these experiences are encouraged to feel a distilled bond with the victims, who are the essence of good, and a distilled hatred for their aggressors, who are the essence of evil. The traumatized state is pure feeling, pure reaction.”

To take a more German example: in early 1904, the Herero and Nama people in Namibia launched a revolt against German colonial authorities. It began when indigenous people killed 100 settlers, including women and children. This was used as a justification for genocide: in the next three years, colonial troops massacred tens of thousands of people. Can you imagine an exhibition about those 100 settlers with no mention of the context?

Berlin

The Berlin exhibition is organized by First Music Production GmbH & Co. KG, a company without a website, where public records would seem to indicate it’s run by a bankruptcy lawyer. Tickets cost €20.60. I have asked the Berlin Senate administration for culture how much they are spending to commemorate Palestinian victims of genocide. I suspect it is zero, but I will update this piece when I hear back from them.

I don’t think anyone in the Berlin government would explicitly say that Israeli lives are worth more than Palestinian lives. But that is their policy: they pay to commemorate Israelis, while they send the police to beat up people commemorating Palestinians.   Wegner has said the exhibition shows the “barbaric trail of death left behind on October 7”. But he has no words about the barbaric trail of death left by the IDF and its predecessors, from the Nakba until today.

The mayor also has a long record of praising notorious antisemites like Elon Musk and Heinrich Lummer. Even when asked directly, he refuses to distance himself from men who constantly inveigh against evil Jewish conspiracy that controls the world. It is safe to say that his support for Israel has nothing to do with fighting antisemitism. No, German conservatives like Zionism because they agree that Jews don’t really belong in the diaspora: and because Israel helps maintain imperialist control of a geopolitically essential region.

Propaganda like this is designed to hijack our empathy. Scenes from the Nova festival really can remind us of parties we’ve all been to. Scenes from Gaza, in contrast, are so horrific that it’s hard to picture ourselves in them.

We need to reject this manipulation with a fight for universalism. We want a world in which every human being has equal rights, which requires dismantling every system of capitalist exploitation, racist oppression, and imperialist plunder.

Red Flag is a weekly opinion column on Berlin politics that Nathaniel has been writing since 2020. After moving through different homes, it now appears at The Left Berlin.

No Allianz with Genocide

Allianz profits from the genocide of Palestinians and the destruction of the Earth

Gaza is under siege. And Allianz, Germany’s biggest financial services company, is actively complicit. While Palestinians are being killed, displaced, starved, and erased, Allianz is underwriting, insuring, and investing in the weapons, machinery and tech that make genocide possible. 

Allianz is a German multinational company headquartered in Munich, Germany. It is the world’s largest insurance company and the largest financial services company in Europe. They are complicit in genocide.

Here is how: 

1. Allianz finances the genocide in Gaza by purchasing Israeli “war bonds”. Pimco, a subsidiary of Allianz in the US, has purchased nearly $1 billion worth of Israeli war bonds. These are bonds that Israel has been issuing since October 7, 2023, to finance its sharply increased military budget. 

2. Allianz invests in Elbit Systems, Israel’s largest weapons manufacturer, and is the insurer of its UK factories where deadly “Hermes” drones are produced and shipped to Israel. These drones are then deployed in surveillance and strike missions in Gaza. Without insurance, Elbit could not continue to operate.

3. Allianz invests $450 million in further arms companies that supply military weapons to Israel. These weapons have been used in the occupation and ongoing genocide in Palestine. Instead of divesting from weapons manufacturers like other companies are doing, Allianz has doubled its investment in 2024.

4. Allianz also sells insurance policies and directly invests more than $2.3 billion (600 million for insurance policies + 1.7 billion investments) in fossil fuel companies that fuel the destruction of the environment and supply the Israeli war machine. Among these: BP, ExxonMobil and Chevron, whichprovide crude oil to fuel Israel’s military and air force. Chevron operates the Arish-Ashkelon pipeline that delivers gas from Israel to Egypt through Palestinian waters, and supplies energy to illegal settlements while cutting electricity to Gaza.

On November 1, 2025, Allianz is set to renew it’s deadly contract with Elbit Systems. 
This cannot happen.

The No Allianz with Genocide campaign is a coalition of groups. It is one of a number of international campaigns holding financial services and insurance companies accountable for their complicity in the genocide in Gaza. Earlier this year, the Boycott Bloody Insurance campaign was launched in the UK, demanding the UK insurance industry end their complicity. Following international pressure, the insurance company AXA has completely divested from Elbit Systems.

You can support No Allianz with Genocide in the following ways:

  • Sign our petition
  • Boycott Allianz. If you’re a customer, leave.
  • Ask your workplace, union, school or institution to cut ties with Allianz.
  • Join our campaign to pressure Allianz to divest from Elbit Systems and from all arms manufacturers complicit in the Gaza genocide.
  • Sign the Declaration of Divestment

Now is the time of Monsters

Why horror films speak to a time of crisis


23/09/2025

Marxists have often talked about the pinnacles of revolutionary cinema – the Italian neorealists’ anti-fascist films, Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers. This article is not about those kinds of films. In fact, horror as a genre tends to be avoided, either simply because it is gruesome or because it is written off as exploitative and misogynistic.

But there is social critique in horror films – particularly in the new wave of the past decade, with films such as Get Out (racism), The Babadook (grief and motherhood), His House (migration) and Sinners (the African American experience in the South). Recent horror films have dealt with specific issues: Danny Boyle’s 28 Years Later confronts Brexit Britain’s isolationism; in Blink Twice a billionaire’s private island is the site of horror for young women; Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite tackles class, exploitation and lack of solidarity.

Two years after the overturning of Roe v Wade, which ended the federal constitutional right to abortion in the US, two mainstream horror films involving forced pregnancy and state/church conspiracies – Immaculate and The First Omen – were released.

Yet neither film was as scary as the real story of Adriana Smith, who, earlier this year, died from blood clots on the brain while pregnant in the US state of Georgia and whose body was kept on life support as an incubator until an 800g baby could be excavated from her corpse.

At a time like now – with genocide, threat of nuclear war, climate emergency – feelings run high. And horror has a particular ability to express things that are normally repressed. The fears and dread, feelings and desires that are socially unacceptable, that don’t fit the heteronormative binary model of gender and the family. Bodies that don’t fit the ideal we are used to seeing on the big (or small) screen. Taboos. So, even the trashier end of B-movie horror can speak to us in unexpected ways.

As a teenager, I watched a very silly (and certainly very problematic) 1960s zombie film in which a man was commanded by voodoo witch doctor to pull his own head off. The special effects were laughable – a wax head splattered with paint-like fake blood. But the image haunted me. After all, what is work under capitalism if not doing someone else’s bidding in a trance-like state for eight hours a day? Horror can use strange and extreme metaphors that relate to the everyday horrors of the system.

Another factor in the recent horror revival, and particularly for the new feminist horror studies, is that there is something very attractive about the unruly, untamed, disobedient creatures we meet in horror films. Women fuelled by rage and not willing or able to suppress it. Like Alex in Fatal Attraction, who says, “I will not be ignored, Dan.”

Horror fans are reassessing old films. The so-called “Hagsploitation” films of the 1960s and 1970s are one example. These films, such as Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? feature middle aged women who are refusing to grow old gracefully and therefore become monstrous in their unruliness. In Strait-Jacket (1964) Joan Crawford plays a woman who has just been released from an asylum 20 years after axe-murdering her husband and his lover. Her attempts to overcome the stigma of mental illness and to find her place in the world again are incredibly relatable. You root for her even as the axe murders begin again… I first saw this film at an International Women’s Day screening, where the organisers handed out inflatable axes so we could all hack along with the on-screen murders. There can be a joyful sense of community at such collective screenings.

Another film recently plucked from obscurity by feminist film scholars is Cindy Sherman’s Office Killer. In this 1997 art-horror Carol Kane plays a meek office worker who is forced to work from home. But her home is a site of trauma and going to the office each day was her only escape. Driven to breaking point, she starts killing her co-workers and bringing them home to her basement, where she places their bodies at desks with telephones. In the evenings she arranges them on the sofa to watch TV with her. Just like the opening scenes of the 2002 film 28 Days Later showing a deserted central London, this felt like Covid times, despite being made years before.

The Marxist film critic called Robin Wood wrote in the 1970s that there is no better genre than horror to express and contest the oppressive nature of capitalism. Our culture operates by forcing us to repress every thought, impulse and emotion that goes against the “normal” standard of bourgeois ideology. A genre that tends towards extremes, like horror, can undermine that. And this is true whether the films are consciously anti-capitalist or critical of the status quo or not.

Horror has more than doubled its market share of the US box office in ten years, from 4.87% in 2013 to 10% 2023. Much of this comes from the big franchises like Malignant and Paranormal Activity. These films are not especially interesting. But there have been mainstream films that are more challenging. Sinners (2025) is the highest grossing original horror film since 2018, with worldwide box office takings of $366 million. Sinners is not pure horror, but a mix of genres. Director Ryan Coogler uses supernatural elements like vampires and voodoo to explore the legacy of colonialism and slavery and the persistence of African American culture and art.

It stands in a tradition of black horror. The 2019 documentary Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror tells the story of this filmic tradition, asserting that the first black horror film was D W Griffiths’ racist epic, Birth of a Nation (1915), in which a white actor in blackface portrays black men as violent sexual predators who need to be lynched.

Horror Noire documents the absence of black representation in horror films through to the 1950s – unless we count the implied blackness of monsters such as King Kong. But a key turning point came in 1968 with the release of Night of the Living Dead, George Romero’s zombie movie starring African American actor Duane Jones as the hero. The interviewees point out the visual links between the self-appointed mobs and armed police depicted in the film and those on the streets in the real world at the time, attacking anti-racist protesters and enforcing segregation.

It is interesting that horror audiences in the US are 15% more likely to be African American and 23% more likely to be Latinx. Perhaps this links to the experience of racism and oppression, among other factors.

Get Out (2017) is one of the films that marked the horror revival. In it, Chris (Daniel Kaluuya), a black photographer, travels with his white girlfriend to visit her family, only to gradually realise they are planning to auction off his body to their wealthy white friends. It is a satirical film about racism hidden behind a liberal façade.

Director Jordan Peele was planning to mirror the bleak ending of Night of the Living Dead, in which the black hero survives until the last moment only to be killed by the authorities. But during the time he was developing the film, Trump got elected and Black Lives Matter intensified, and he changed it to a much more satisfying conclusion. Peele says he felt compelled to put an argument that black people can survive if they have back-up!

Some of the symbolic language Peele uses in Get Out has become part of the lexicon. In the film, Chris is hypnotised by his girlfriend’s mother and falls into “the sunken place” – a place where he is trapped and unheard. He must escape the sunken place to be free.

This is the power of film – one visual metaphor can encapsulate a feeling or experience that is hard to express in words.

At a recent academic conference, I heard a talk by a woman who had documented her long journey to endometriosis diagnosis through clips and fragments from horror films, specifically haunted house films. She explained how disorientating chronic illness can be, especially when undiagnosed, how you don’t trust your own senses and no none believes you. She found connections with haunted house narratives when she couldn’t find a language elsewhere to express her experiences.

Body horror as a subgenre has a particular appeal for those who face oppression based on their gender or sexuality.

The Substance, directed by Coralie Fargeat, made a huge impact for an independent film. It takes to extremes the idea of the beauty industry and wanting to stay young forever. Norwegian body horror/fairy tale The Ugly Stepsister upturns the story of Cinderella to examine the violence of beauty standards.

Trans film writers Caden Mark Gardner and Willow Catelyn Maclay’s book, Corpses, Fools and Monsters: The History and Future of Transness in Cinema (2024) has several excellent chapters on horror and related films. The chapter on The Silence of the Lambs points out that Hannibal Lecter’s cannibalism is somehow represented as less disturbing than Buffalo Bill’s desire to change his gender. Maclay, who is intersex, has written about how she felt seen by the main character in sci-fi horror Under the Skin, in which Scarlett Johansson plays an alien in outwardly human form, but without all the working parts. She can’t be fully woman or fully man and this distressing realisation leaves her isolated and lonely.

The 2023 book Queer for Fear by Heather Petrocelli focuses on the community-building side of horror film screenings. Petrocelli documents how, in big cities across Canada and the northern US, you can find midnight screenings of horror films for queer audiences who find affinity with each other while watching these “othered” beings on screen.

A similar phenomenon is happening now with feminist horror networks. The Final Girls Berlin Film Festival exhibits films by women, non-binary and LGBT+ filmmakers. Podcasts such as Monstrous Flesh invite film experts and enthusiasts to discuss old and new horror films from a fresh critical perspective.

To return to where we started: “now is the time of monsters” is a liberal translation of part of a quote from Italian revolutionary Marxist Antonio Gramsci. (The old is dying and the new cannot be born. In the interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms/phenomena appear.) Gramsci was writing from prison in Fascist Italy in 1929, as Europe was struggling between workers’ revolution and fascism.

This kind of gothic language runs through Marxism. Marx himself uses it when describing capitalism: “Capital is dead labour, which vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labour, and lives the more, the more labour it sucks.” And it has a “werewolf hunger for surplus labour”.

More recently, Chris Harman wrote in Zombie Capitalism (2009):

“Faced with the financial crisis that began in 2007, some economic commentators did begin to talk of ‘zombie banks’ – financial institutions that were in the ‘undead state’ and incapable of fulfilling any positive function, but representing a threat to everything else. What they do not recognise is that 21st century capitalism as a whole is a zombie system, seemingly dead when it comes to achieving human goals and responding to human feelings, but capable of sudden spurts of activity that cause chaos all around.”

Is it any wonder that we have been culturally immersed in zombies for 20 years now? 28 Days/Weeks/Years Later, The Last of US, The Walking Dead…

This is post-apocalyptic horror about survival and found family in a destructive and unsustainable system.

We live in an unstable world; it is going to get more unstable. Hunger is rife, environmental destruction is increasing, violence surrounds us every day, and mental health is under tremendous strain.

If you want to read the signs about how people feel about this situation – watch some horror films. You will find fear and anxiety – but also rage and anger, also the refusal to be buried (literally!!), the refusal to accept the repressive norms that are forced onto us.

By nature, horror films tend to be bleak. They often don’t have happy endings. They often leave things unresolved, but that in itself poses a question to us. We are not going to resolve those questions in film first – we resolve them in life. That’s our job as revolutionaries and as activists, to find ways through the horror of capitalism.

Films mentioned:

  • Sinners (2025)
  • 28 Years Later (2025)
  • The Ugly Stepsister (2025)
  • The Substance (2024)
  • Blink Twice (2024)
  • Immaculate (2024)
  • The First Omen (2024)
  • His House (2020)
  • Parasite (2019)
  • Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (2019)
  • Get Out (2017)
  • The Babadook (2014)
  • Under the Skin (2013)
  • 28 Weeks Later (2007)
  • 28 Days Later (2002)
  • Office Killer (1997)
  • The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
  • Fatal Attraction (1987)
  • Night of the Living Dead (1968)
  • Strait-Jacket (1964)
  • The Birth of a Nation (1915)

Recommended recent books on horror film:

Corpses, Fools and Monsters: The History and Future of Transness in Cinema by Caden Mark Gardner and Willow Catelyn Maclay (2024)

Queer for Fear: Horror Film and the Queer Spectator by Heather O. Petrocelli (2023)

Women Make Horror: Filmmaking, Feminism, Genre edited by Alison Peirse (2020)

House of Psychotic Women by Kier-La Janisse (expanded edition, 2022)

Horror Noire: A History of Black American Horror from the 1890s to Present by Robin R. Means Coleman (second edition, 2022)

Robin Wood on the Horror Film: Collected Essays and Reviews by Robin Wood (2018)

Return of the Monstrous-Feminine by Barbara Creed (2022)

I Spit on your Celluloid: The History of Women Directing Horror Movies by Heidi Honeycutt (2024)