“Under a covert class dictatorship”: An interview with Humphrey McQueen
Jonny Black
Platypus Review 183 | February 2026
On October 14, 2025, Platypus Affiliated Society member Jonny Black interviewed Humphrey McQueen, an Australian historian and writer whose work was shaped by his participation in the New Left. He has had a lasting influence on debates about nationalism, labor history, and the fate of radical politics in Australia. He is the author of A New Britannia: An Argument Concerning the Social Origins of Australian Radicalism and Nationalism (1970),[1] Gallipoli to Petrov: Arguing with Australian History (1984),[2]We Built This Country: Builders’ Labourers and Their Unions, 1770 to the Future (2011),[3] and more. An edited transcript follows.
Jonny Black: When were you first aware of the Left as a young person?
Humphrey McQueen: The Left, as distinct from the labor movement, was always there. From my parents and my grandmother, that was just part of life. I was seven during the 1949 election campaign, and I remember we were sitting around on kitchen chairs in the lounge and, as you did in those days, we were listening to the radio.
As the results were coming in, I remember this vision of my grandmother getting up and saying to my father when the Australian Labor Party (ALP) lost, “Dinny, Dinny, what will become of us now?” My grandfather had died of black lung disease when he was 37, and she’d brought up the kids on her own, no widow’s pension, scrubbing floors, all of those things; what she imagined was that if Labor lost the election, workers like her would go back to the sort of life they’d lived in the 20s and 30s. These were deep sensations we had.
My parents enrolled me in the Labor Party when I was 15 — you could do that in those days — because they needed a quorum for the local branch. I became the branch secretary when I was 16. But as for the notion of the Left, I knew there were communists because the bloke next door, a carpenter, was a communist, and he’d taken me along to hear the union secretary talk. And I knew about the Communist Party’s Sunday morning meetings up at the Trades Hall.
When I left school, I found there was a discussion group that had been set up by some dissident communists. Helen Palmer, from the Palmer family, founded the magazine Outlook. They organized discussion groups around the place, and one of those was in Brisbane. I went along, and somebody lent me Paul Frölich’s biography of Rosa Luxemburg.[4] I took it home and read it. And I have to say, one quotation in it actually changed my life. Luxemburg says, “The law is the class interest raised to an obligatory norm.”[5] My whole attitude towards reform, government, and everything changed. I’ve kept on saying that to people ever since. I’ve been living under a class dictatorship all my life. It’s just been a covert dictatorship.
I got to know some university people because our branch of the Labor Party and the university branch were in the same federal electorate. I got to meet people like Bruce McFarlen and Merle Thornton. Needless to say, I soaked up the ideas of the period. There was still a big Left in the Labor Party. That’s the difference today. There was a Labor Party, and it had an active Left, very influenced by the Communist Party.
JB: You say there was a Labor Party.
HM: It’s not a Labor Party today in the same way it was.
JB: Do you see the decline of organized labor under neoliberalism as opening new opportunities — opportunities that perhaps weren’t taken up — to organize independently from the Labor Party and from the official trade-union movement?
HM: There were opportunities, and indeed one of the big ones in the early 80s was the anti-nuclear movement and the Nuclear Disarmament Party. People were concerned, and there was a lot of support for it, just as there is today with the movement around Gaza. A lot of people I know in the ALP, who I would have thought were rusted-on[6] ALP people, are very angry and active about that.
But the problem you face if you’re a socialist, and you’re concerned about destroying capitalism, is that you can’t do it by a series of one-off issues. Whatever you thought about the Communist Party in its various forms, and whatever you thought about the Left of the Labor Party, there was a sense then in which this was designed to move towards really challenging the system as a system, and not just responding to the crises that get thrown up.
I don’t know whether you’ve ever seen a wonderful documentary from England called We Are Many (2014).[7] It’s about what happened in England after the failure, just as here and everywhere, of those huge demonstrations to stop the second invasion of Iraq, and it shows this mass movement that continued in England for the next 10 years. It explains why Jeremy Corbyn got elected as leader of the UK Labour Party by the rank and file. They were so active that when David Cameron wanted to intervene again with British troops in the Middle East, they convinced enough people that a number of Tory MPs wouldn’t support it. Of course, they didn’t think about it in terms of challenging the capitalist state for its continued existence, and yet it was still significant.
JB: You say these protest movements inevitably reach their limits. Do you see an alternative path to protest politics?
HM: We were thinking about this about 10 years ago, how you might seriously rebuild a working-class agenda independently of the ALP and of the Australian Council of Trade Unions (ACTU). We came up with what we call the five pillars.[8] The principle we worked from was: what are the five reasons that get people out of bed in the morning? Do you have somewhere to live? Do you have a source of income? How are you going to get there? And then education and health. Those are the five principal issues that people battle with most days of their lives. Unless you can say something to people about each of those things in a way that’s meaningful and practical, they’re going to say, “I’m sure that’s all very interesting, but what you’re really telling me is you don’t care about me. You have your own agenda, whether it’s sexual equality, the Great Barrier Reef, or whatever. But if you show me that you’re concerned about my needs, and the needs of other people like me, then I’ll support you on those other things as well.” This is why Ken Livingstone did so well as the Lord Mayor of London, because that’s what he did. He showed people he was concerned about transport and housing, because they have control of housing, health, and education in a way that local governments here don’t.
Too much of the academic Left thinks the world’s a postgraduate seminar in critical studies. And if you say the wrong word, you’re jumped on and thrown out and condemned to hell. But most people use language in a way that people who’ve done PhDs in critical theory don’t; they’re motivated rather by these everyday issues.
JB: I appreciate the point about getting back to bread-and-butter issues. But it raises a problem of the state, and what Marxists used to call Bonapartism. Figures like Jack Lang[9] and John Curtin[10] often appear as progressive Bonapartists in Leftist historiographies. They disciplined both workers and capitalists, all while speaking the language of socialism.
HM: Let’s take the example of the socialization units and Jack Lang. That all came out of a militant 15-year period in New South Wales (NSW) politics. And partly it only came to Lang because he could get the support of some of those militant ex-union leaders who had broken with some of the others, those who then came around to his side within NSW faction politics. The one thing that’s important to take from that, in terms of ALP politics in NSW, is what the Right learned in those years: if you lose the government and you wait around long enough, you’ll get it back. But if you lose control of the party machine, you never get it back. The NSW Right would rather lose office than lose control of the party machine.
Let’s also remember that Lang was dealing with people whose life experience was like that of my grandparents: dead at 37, scrubbing floors to keep three kids. That was everyday life. It wasn’t as difficult as it apparently is today to make a connection with those people, if you promised them something. And Lang did introduce child endowment. It wasn’t just that he talked about it, they actually did do things. So much has been lost and destroyed in the last 40 years. You can’t just say, “we’ll pluck that out of the air; we’ll write another program!” That has to come bit by bit, by people being actively engaged in it.
I keep stressing this, but when I encountered the communist union officials and the labor movement in the late 50s, a huge number of working people like my father just knew that there was no such thing as a fair day’s pay. Most of them couldn’t have given you what you might call a Marxist analysis of why that was the case. Now, so much has been lost that people think exploitation is like wage theft, as if it’s something on the margins, and not a necessary part of the capitalist system. People talk about modern slavery, but how many of us talk about wage slavery anymore?
JB: In your most famous work A New Britannia, you talk about how an underclass of indentured servants, including the Kanakas,[11] operated as a halfway house between slavery and wage labor during the Second Industrial Revolution. In the case of post-convict 19th-century Australia, it does remind me of that quote from Marx in the introduction to his Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right (1843–44), where he says Germany finds itself in the society of freedom on the day of its internment.[12]
This is the context for your discussion of the White Australia Policy, which is often reduced to merely an economic issue that is then demagogued to mislead the workers. One of the things I appreciated about A New Britannia is that it offers a wider range of ideological critique. An example that springs to mind is how you explored the sexual dimension of racial paranoia.
HM: All ideas are complexes of both material experience and ideological, intellectual influences. There’s a great quote I often use from Theodor Adorno: “The masses aren’t so stupid that they’d react to the brazen wink of propaganda if it didn’t strike a chord in their own experience.”[13] So if you’re trying to analyze something like White Australia, you’ve got to take both sides of that.
Then look at how layers are perhaps laid on top of that by anti-working-class propagandists. This relates to what Marx actually says about religion. Most people would recognize the quote about religion as the opium of the people. In context, Marx isn’t saying that religion puts you to sleep; that’s not what opium does. Marx likely knew, because he was taking opiates all the time for the various pains he had, that they deaden the pain so you can go on. Religion is the cry of the oppressed, the hope in a hopeless world. You can’t get rid of religion until you get rid of the conditions that make some kind of opiate absolutely essential for getting through the day.
There are some needs that aren’t going to be solved by socialism or communism. There are simple facts in life: sometimes people we love don’t love us back, or a loved one dies. You don’t need religion to deal with that, but you need some sort of opiate, and people find it in music, art, friendships, etc. The rise of fundamentalism is everywhere today, whether it’s Hindus or the Protestants in the U.S. or here, and this is a sign of social disintegration, which shows how lonely people are. They’re seeking some kind of social connectedness. The nature of work today is so fractured and, while not everyone is doing gig work, even salaried professionals such as university lecturers just lock themselves in their offices and turn their computers on. When I was teaching at a university 50 years ago, one of the things about it was you went to morning tea, all the arts faculty gathered there, and you’d sit around tables with people from different departments and share a social exchange of ideas; you got to know people. In the 1950s and the 60s, the companies would put on social groups for their employees. For example work would sometimes even shut down early so everyone could see the sporting teams play. They’d bind people to each other, and to the company of course.
JB: I’m sure you’re aware of the work Elizabeth Humphrys and Tad Tietze have elaborated on in terms of the hollowing out of civil society.[14] Peter Mair’s Ruling the Void (2013)[15] and Robert D. Putnam’s Bowling Alone (2000)[16] address a similar problem. You are writing a book on artificial intelligence; how does that fit with your perspective on social fracturing?
HM: The book is called Can Robots Dream of Becoming Time Poor? Automation, AI, and the Future of Labor Times. The thread that runs through it is the control of labor time, which is the core point of a Marxian analysis of the capitalist system. During the work-choices campaign the trade unions were going on again about a fair day’s pay. And we kept saying, “yes, but what the boss wants is to control the application of your labor power.” That is control over how labor time works. If you don’t bring that in, you don’t get the sense of surplus value and everything that flows from that. A lot of the discussion about artificial intelligence never starts out from where it must, which is what I address in my book: what is human intelligence? As Marx makes clear, it comes through our socialization.
The reason that you and I are able to have this conversation is because when we were growing up, we were surrounded by people who were talking to each other. And they talked to us, and they looked in our eyes when we were babies, and we learned to speak. Then we were sent off to schools where we learned to read and write, etc., but that fundamental socializing starts with the family. And we know from terrible situations where children are deprived of that socialization, if they don’t get it before they’re about five or seven, they never fully develop into adults; the neural pathways of the brain don’t develop. In extreme cases of neglect, children never learn how to speak. We have to start with these questions about the material basis of human intelligence. What is intelligence in other animals?
I’ve always objected to the liberationist view that we’ve got to save animals. No, we’ve got to save other animals. We’re a particular kind of animal. To understand human intelligence properly, we have to learn how intelligence operates in other animals and how it is and isn’t the same within us. Then we can think about what goes on in a machine. I don’t want to say that in a hundred years’ time, it won’t be possible to build a machine that can feel love, passions, and hate. I hope it doesn’t happen, but it’s not impossible. I don’t want to be like the archbishop in Brecht’s poem about the tailor of Ulm who puts on waxed wings, jumps off the cathedral spire, and crashes to his death, and the archbishop says it’s a “wicked, foolish lie, for man will never fly.”[17]
In the meantime, we have to look at what we’re using it for. It’s not the fascination that people have about fake faces, fake voices, etc. They’re already using AI to control labor times. Artificial intelligence is increasing the rate of exploitation.
Recall from Marx’s Capital (1867) about the difference between the architect and the bee.[18] Bees do all sorts of amazing things that architects can’t do all the time. But the difference, he says, is that the human architect builds in his mind the building that he will then realize in his activity. He then goes on to correct himself because, as we all know, whatever our project is on day one, it’s not the one we end up with. We learn how to get to where we want to go by engaging with it. We become what we do, and if we don’t do anything, we don’t become anything. The other problem we face is that we’re always running behind changes in the real world.
JB: The Second Industrial Revolution had these ideas, which is reminiscent of how we’re thinking about AI. The Gilded Age promised to socialize the world on a scale hitherto never experienced, speed up the labor process, and draw more workers into wage labor than ever before, and yet that process came with a hell of a lot of destruction, such as imperialism leading into World War I. Was proletarian socialism anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist, and how was this distinct from liberal critiques at the time?
HM: I’m glad you raised the question of the stages of capitalism compared to how people try to talk about imperialism now, or the fashionable talk about colonization, as if it’s all the same thing; as if colonization in the 18th century and colonization today are the same thing. There’s a huge difference between the impact that the East India Company had on the indigenous population of Australia and the way in which the Adani Coal Mine is going to have an effect on both the indigenous and settler population. These are completely different stages of the capitalist system.
The chapter I’m grappling with in my book at the moment is about what stage of capitalism we are in now. I reread Kautsky’s notorious essay “Ultra-imperialism” (1914), which I had read when New Left Review republished it in 1970,[19] again a few years ago, and last week I read it again.
Like many at the time, I swallowed the popular line, but Kautsky’s not really saying what Lenin accuses him of saying. It’s a different analysis and we need to remember that it’s virtually written before the war breaks out. Kautsky’s not in the middle of the war as Lenin was. Did anybody think the war would go on for four and a half years in August 1914? I don’t think so. The only person I know who predicted that was Friedrich Engels in the 1890s, 20 years before.
The picture of ultra-imperialism that Kautsky gives is what the U.S. corporate welfare state is able to achieve after 1945. Fundamentally they control the United Nations, the World Trade Organization, the IMF, the World Bank, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. Ultra-imperialism is fulfilled by the dominance of the U.S. monopolizing capital.
JB: So where are we now?
HM: That’s cracking apart and it has been for some time, but again you’ve got to also bring in the material changes. With high-speed computers and AI, the Left gets caught up in a kind of technological determinism: they’re only looking at machines as the drivers of change. Some of the biggest changes in the 19th century were the developments in the chemical industry; it’s not just technology but also scientific technique. Now, in the Fourth Industrial Revolution, the different fields of knowledge play different parts. Towards the end of my new book, there are two chapters that deal with this.
One chapter is called “Who Has a Future?” There are three versions of the future that I lay out. One is that we’re able to take control of the system. The other one is that the capitalists decide that we’re not going to work in the same way anymore, but they’re going to attempt to keep capital accumulation going, with a guaranteed basic income tacked on. This isn’t going to happen. And the last alternative? Extermination. That’s the hard reality. It might not happen next week but this is the hundred-year view. They don’t want to keep us now, they just need us.
My final chapter is called “To Be a Luddite.” There I defend who the Luddites were and what they did, because they were not anti-machines; they were anti-boss, and they grew out of a thousand-year struggle. It didn’t just happen for 10 years, 1810–20, like the school textbooks tell you; it’s a struggle that’s gone back a thousand years. I’ve tracked that all the way through. One of the great drivers of it in the early 19th century was the struggle against the enclosure of agricultural lands.
JB: Thinking on the historical specificity of the task of the proletariat, I wonder what elements remain of a class consciousness that Lenin or Kautsky could have taken for granted. When Trotsky says the 19th century hasn’t passed in vain,[20] it is due to a massive political growth embodied in the Second International. Did the 20th century pass in vain? What role does consciousness play, even the absence of consciousness?
HM: True consciousness has two major parts. One of them is if you can see that the boss is your enemy. So you say, “we’ve got to destroy the boss.” The other thing you can say is, “we recognize the boss is the enemy and we’ve got to organize our tactics to make the most of what we can get out of the boss class.” The labor movement everywhere has been divided between those two times and moments. You can’t overthrow the capitalist system every day of the week, so there’s a balance between the two. But in both cases you have the class consciousness that the boss is not your friend, and you have the understanding that the state is the organized enemy of the working class. Everything is the result of the relative strength of the contending classes within the state apparatus. From here the class struggle can be played out in schools, hospitals, parliament, or anywhere. Then there’s a completely false consciousness that says, if you’re nice to the boss, he’ll be nice to you.
JB: I suppose we all go along to get along at work. Workers see themselves as having a common destiny, including with the managers and administrators of capitalism, and surely this isn’t entirely false consciousness.
HM: It’s intriguing sometimes how the boss class expresses a Marxist analysis. It doesn’t mean to, but recently they’ve been saying, “since the budget has given this support for energy bills and other things, the basic wage need not go up.” So what the boss is saying, without knowing it, is that the wage is the socially necessary cost of reproducing our labor power, whether that comes from child endowment or from public housing, as Engels marvelously spelled out. That’s what they have to give us to reproduce capital.
JB: I want to talk to you about your intellectual development around Maoism and the New Left. We spent a bit of time interviewing some of that milieu associated with Red Eureka, including Albert Langer and Barry York, and there seems to be a split within Maoism around the question of imperialism.[21] Barry York said, for example, that he has always been anti-fascist first and anti-imperialist second.[22]
HM: I don’t know because I haven’t paid much attention for the last few decades, but I was a Maoist before there were Maoists. I did my honors thesis on the Communist Party of China and its significance for the world communist movement. We were being told that the Chinese wanted to get into a war, and I thought, that can’t be right. So I went and read 8 years of Peking Review[23] and many other things. I submitted the thesis at the end of 1964, before the Cultural Revolution broke out. I found that most of the things that we were being told about China simply weren’t true. People now talk about Maoism and Stalinism without ever thinking of how racist their framing can be. What they’re doing is they’re viewing the world through the anus of the Bolshevik Revolution, as if China didn’t have several thousand years of history. It may be that Maoism was worse than Stalinism, but Maoism wasn’t Stalinism; it was Chinese.
When Mao said you’d need 20 cultural revolutions to erase the impact of Confucianism in China, that’s a problem specific to Chinese conditions. You can’t understand the appeal of Maoism without understanding how people were responding to the Vietnam War. Neither the Maoists nor the Trotskyists like to hear this, but Maoism was the Trotskyism of the 60s and 70s. It was the way in which we thought we were going to break through the bureaucratization of socialism. That’s what the Cultural Revolution looked like to us. I never went to China or one of the study tours; I wasn’t particularly interested in doing that. For me, the question was how you dealt with capitalism in Australia.
For all the carrying on about fascism that the bloody Left does, they don’t know what it is. We’ve lived under a covert class dictatorship all our lives. Fascism is an overt class dictatorship. But there are overt class dictatorships that are not fascism. Most of the overt class dictatorships of the world have never been fascism. Fascism was a particular moment from the early 20th century to the 1950s, and it was a reaction to the revolutionary movement. The Germans, Italians, Japanese, Portuguese, Spanish, and Romanians all had little in common except for opposing Bolshevism.
When World War II, or what I would now rather call the Second Great Slaughter, was over, and the U.S. did what Kautsky said was going to be possible, they had NATO in place, and capitalism didn’t need overt dictatorships across Western Europe anymore.
There is all this noise on the Left about a couple of hundred Nazis marching around Victoria, but then never a word about the state, because we face a covert dictatorship run through the state and assisted increasingly by AI. The last thing they want to do in places like Australia is to impose an overt dictatorship; that’s not in their interest right now. But if they’re going to lose control of the system, they’ll do anything. That’s not the challenge for us at the moment. And because the Left is screaming, “the fascists are coming,” they are ignoring the creeping covert dictatorship. It’s certainly the case that you’ve got to oppose the far Right on the ground, because they go around terrorizing people. But that is totally marginal to state power and class power in society. Anti-fascism is just the Left big-noting itself. The kinds of anti-fascist struggles that actually went on in the 30s are completely foreign to the Left today. I say to the anti-fascist of today, “comrade, what’s your weapon of choice?” None of them have ever heard a gun fired in anger, and they think they can overthrow the capitalist state.
JB: How do you see the role of someone like you as a public intellectual intervening in the historical consciousness of young people?
HM: The simple answer to the question is to assume nothing. The pamphlets I’ve done on introducing Capital are aimed at people who have never and will never read a word of Marx apart from what’s in the pamphlet. It’s not designed to engage in Marxology. It is trying to get at what we’ve been saying today: basic things like labor time, exploitation, surplus value. We need to convey a few things like that to people, but even that can be a hell of a lot because the capitalist system is complex. An analysis of it cannot just be boiled down to one slogan.
In terms of educating young people, I’ll just end with an illustrative story from Alan Roberts, an old Leftist down in Victoria. He had been in Queensland when he was in the Communist Party in the early 50s. He went into the Party headquarters one day, and he could hear the Party secretary in the next room talking. He was in the office for about 40 minutes, and the secretary just went on and on. Alan asked one of the women in the office, “what’s the Party secretary doing in there?” She answered, “listening to the youth.” |P
[1] Humphrey McQueen, A New Britannia: An Argument Concerning the Social Origins of Australian Radicalism and Nationalism (Ringwood: Penguin Books Australia, 1970).
[2] Humphrey McQueen, Gallipoli to Petrov: Arguing with Australian History (Crows Nest: Unwin Hyman, 1984).
[3] Humphrey McQueen, We Built This Country: Builders’ Labourers and Their Unions, 1770 to the Future (Port Adelaide: Ginninderra Press, 2011).
[4] Paul Frölich, Rosa Luxemburg: Her Life and Work, trans. Edward Fitzgerald (London: Victor Gollancz, 1940).
[5] Ibid., 68. An expanded version of McQueen’s abbreviated quotation is included by Frölich: “In other words, what presents itself to us as bourgeois legality is nothing but the violence of the ruling class, a violence raised to an obligatory norm from the outset.”
[6] [Australian slang] A political party loyalist, particularly an uncritical one.
[7] We Are Many, dir. Amir Amirani (London: Amirani Media, 2014).
[8] See “Five Pillars,” Surplus Value, <https://www.surplusvalue.org.au/FivePillars/index.html>.
[9] Premier of New South Wales (1925–27 and 1930–32); state leader of the ALP (1923–39).
[10] 14th Prime Minister of Australia (1941–45).
[11] [Hawaiian] People, persons, etc. It became a term for Pacific Islanders employed as laborers in Australia, although they are mostly from Melanesia rather than Polynesia.
[12] Karl Marx, “Introduction,” in A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right (1843–44), <https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1843/critique-hpr/intro.htm>.
[13] Theodor Adorno, “Sociology and Psychology (Part I),” New Left Review I, no. 46 (Nov/Dec 1967).
[14] See, for example, Elizabeth Humphrys and Tad Tietze, “‘Anti-politics’ and the return of the social: A reply to Alex Callinicos,” International Socialism 144 (Autumn 2014), <https://isj.org.uk/anti-politics-and-the-return-of-the-social-a-reply-to-alex-callinicos/>, and Elizabeth Humphrys and Tad Tietze, “Anti-politics: Elephant in the room,” Left Flank (October 31, 2013), <https://left-flank.org/2013/10/31/anti-politics-elephant-room/>.
[15] Peter Mair, Ruling the Void: The Hollowing of Western Democracy (London: Verso, 2013).
[16] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000).
[17] Bertolt Brecht, “Ulm 1592,” in Svendborger Gedichte (1939).
[18] Karl Marx, “The Labour Process and the Process of Producing Surplus-Value,” in Capital, vol. 1 (1867), <https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1867-c1/ch07.htm>.
[19] Karl Kautsky, “Ultra-imperialism,” New Left Review I, no. 59 (Jan/Feb 1970), <https://www.marxists.org/archive/kautsky/1914/09/ultra-imp.htm>.
[20] Leon Trotsky, “1789 – 1848 – 1905,” in Results and Prospects (1906), <https://www.marxists.org/archive/trotsky/1931/tpr/rp03.htm>.
[21] Harry H., Ryan M., Duncan P., and Tom P., “Red Eureka: An interview with Tom Brennan, Arthur Dent, Tom Griffiths, and David McMullen,” Platypus Review 169 (September 2024), <https://platypus1917.org/2024/09/01/red-eureka-an-interview-with-tom-brennan-arthur-dent-tom-griffiths-and-david-mcmullen/>.
[22] Barry York, “A Response to ‘The legacy of 1968,’” Platypus Review 165 (April 2024), <https://platypus1917.org/2024/04/01/a-response-to-the-legacy-of-1968/>. See also Andy Blunden, Arthur Dent, and Alison Thorne, “The legacy of 1968,” Platypus Review 165 (April 2024), <https://platypus1917.org/2024/04/01/the-legacy-of-1968/>.
[23] An English-language national news magazine published in China. It is now known as the Beijing Review.
