In this issue, 18.2 of JSR: Journal for the Study of Radicalism, we co-edit a continuing series of articles on the intersection of radicalism and religion, in some cases also intersecting with radicalism on the right. This issue represents a continuation of JSR 18.1 and includes an exceptionally interesting article that connects these themes with contemporary clandestine occultist groups and figures. This issue also discusses communalism, and we have more articles that intersect with this theme for JSR 19.1 Frequently JSR has focused on radicalism on the left, or radicalism that doesn't quite fit into categories of left and right. In these issues, we have included articles on radicalism on the right, and expect more along these lines in the coming years.This current issue of JSR begins with “Toward the Galactic Imperium: The Order of Nine Angles, Cosmic Accelerationism, and the Occult Politics of Neo-Fascism,” by Andrew Palella, who returns to JSR to detail the history and many aspects of an occult group that came to broader attention in the 2020s but still is not so widely known. In this article, he discusses previously unknown or little-discussed sources or publications, and provides an extensive overview of this group, its worldview, and its consequences.Our second article, “Josiah Warren's American Revolution: Property, Individual Sovereignty, and True Civilization” by Neil Wright, provides an overview of the life and influence of Josiah Warren (1798–1874). Josiah Warren had joined Owen's communal experiment in New Harmony, Indiana, but turned against it, concluding that a just society is only possible among independent individuals, not in collectives. In this article, Wright explores Warren's aims of “individual sovereignty” and “true civilization” and situates Warren's ideas within the history of American political thought.In our third article, “Monetizing Extremism: The Financial Underpinnings of the German American Bund, 1936–41,” Bradley Hart discusses the German American Bund, one of the United States’ most visible pro-National-Socialist advocacy groups prior to World War II. The Bund built a membership that numbered in the thousands and spanned most of the country's urban centers. Hart's article examines recently discovered primary sources to expand the historical understanding of how the Bund functioned by exploring the various sources of the Bund's money, its ambitious investment strategy, and its political and advocacy efforts.In the fourth article, “The Production of Political Violence: Ethnographic Evidences of Fluidity of Agents,” Suman Nath discusses political violence in recent West Bengal, one of the violence-prone states of India, and studies, in particular, the evolving nature of Maoist or left-wing violence. Using longitudinal, multisite ethnographic research on agencies and their nature of operations in organised violence, Nath shows how violent networks develop and sustain themselves over a long period of time.The issue concludes with five book reviews, including Omar Swartz's review of Margaret Randall, I Never Left Home: A Memoir of Time and Place. Randall has a long history of involvement in national and international left-wing causes, including time in Mexico, Cuba, and Nicaragua. We also include in this issue Jacob Zumoff's review of David Featherstone's and Christian Høgsbjerg's The Red and the Black: The Russian Revolution and the Black Atlantic, a collection that examines the long-standing connections between Communism and African-diaspora radicalism. Steven C. Dinero also explores in this issue Billie Jeanne Brownlee's New Media and Revolution: Resistance and Dissent in Pre-Uprising Syria and Alice Wilson's Afterlives of Revolution: Everyday Counterhistories in Southern Oman, while Morgan Shipley discusses, in our final review, John Huntington's Far-Right Vanguard: The Radical Roots of Modern Conservatism and its repetitive condemnations of the historical and contemporary right, including not only historically more distant figures like Revilo P. Oliver, but also the Tea Party movement, Republicans in general, the MAGA movement, and so forth. If you are interested in a book being reviewed by us, or in reviewing a book, please contact Dr. Morgan Shipley.As you know, JSR seeks to provide a forum for the scholarly and dispassionate analysis of radicalism of many kinds, and from many different perspectives. We continue to welcome a steady stream of excellent articles, and remain the only journal in the world that focuses on the full range of political, social, and religious forms of radicalism. In particular, we look forward to more articles on subjects that include anarchism, radical environmentalism, and other forms of political and religious radicalism, including radicalism on the right as well as on the left. We welcome your queries, submissions, and shared conversation about these various currents of radical political and religious movements and individuals, as well as on other topics that advance our understanding of radicalism, broadly understood.Thank you for supporting our journal, and we hope you enjoy this issue.

This volume, Afterlives of Revolution: Everyday Counterhistories in Southern Oman, seeks to accomplish several interrelated tasks. In essence, the goal is to capture and conceptualize past ideals and values as they developed and evolved in Oman's Dhufar region during the revolutionary era centered mostly in the 1960s and early 1970s. This includes an examination of the status of women, marginalized tribes, the former enslaved, and related subaltern communities (xi).Beyond this, author Alice Wilson seeks a far more ambitious agenda, as she strives to demonstrate how the legacies of former revolutionary movements, beliefs, activities, philosophies, and even micro-activities remain ever-present in today's Dhufari society and culture.In order to document her thesis, she sets out on months of extensive primary fieldwork in a challenging environment fraught with difficult if not almost impossible working conditions. As she explains (4), her goal is to identify and to document all manner of postrevolutionary behaviors, identities, social relations, and experiences. Yet by definition the revolution “failed,” and counterrevolutionary and counterinsurgency narratives thrive, in theory thwarting all others.But, as Wilson soon proves, this is not a story of “failure.” On the contrary, her research reveals strength and resolve amid frustration and the recognition that small victories, though they often may go unnoticed, can lead to larger accomplishments in the long run. This, she argues, was especially the case as the Dhufari liberation movement resisted the British-backed sultan and his forces in the early 1970s (98). The classic confrontation between the coopted government and the local resistance provides a textbook example in virtually every respect of revolutionary–counterinsurgency encounters in the “postcolonial” Middle East. Further, Wilson offers that the revolutionary efforts to resist social, economic, and political exploitation while facilitating emancipation for tribal, ethnic, and gendered inequalities was always paramount (100)—even if such goals were never fully actualized.This contention feeds into the second half of the book, wherein Wilson offers that such ideals continue to be present among Dhufari society and culture. From her perspective, “ongoing measures of counterinsurgency coercion reflected continuing resistance [into the postwar period]” (125). Put simply, though the revolution is long over (and for that matter, the forces that contested for major social and economic change technically “lost”), Wilson sees things otherwise. From her perspective, various social and economic behaviors related to kinship and social relations (e.g., marriage patterns), class relations, children's naming practices, and even “everyday” interactions (that is, what she terms “the mundane”) all suggest that the revolution is still in some way underway or that its legacy survives to the present.Moreover, today's “everyday interactions,” she observes, “facilitate subversion” (174). In this regard, she writes in the second half of the volume of men going to the mall and “looking at women,” older men “sitting,” and women socializing. Notably, those who merely sit or chat are related in some way as “ex-revolutionaries” or their descendants. Thus, Wilson argues, by dint of their very meeting and socializing, they continue a tradition of facilitating resistance and solidarity and meanwhile continue to perpetuate a process of communal identity construction.In the final chapters of the volume the book becomes more jargon-laced and theoretical. Moreover, most would acknowledge that while the ideals sought by the mid-twentieth-century revolutionaries were worthy and relevant to that time and place, those heady days are now long passed. Clearly, much has changed both regionally and globally over the past 50 years. Like objects viewed through one's rearview mirror, they appear to be further away than ever before and are fading evermore with the passage of time.But not, apparently, in Wilson's view. From her perspective, these “marginalized counterhistories” remain, and continue to inform present everyday activities and behaviors (201). And though she admits that many of the Dhufaris that she interviewed did not fully corroborate her theories or expectations, she suggests that this was probably due to fear or some other reason, and that such views did not sway her away from the belief that she was in fact correct (e.g., 223).In conclusion, this text is a challenging read. On the one hand, it provides some very well-researched material that is relevant to several fields, including anthropology, history, and political science, to name a few. At the same time, some of the ideas that emerge are at best speculative. I must agree with Wilson that social change is “messy,” and to assume that the “official” account of counterinsurgency in this region (or any other) is the correct one is a grave error. That being said, I also cannot assume that her account is the “correct” one either, her claim to that distinction notwithstanding.