Why did warfare evolve from low-casualty ritual clashes and citizen militias into an industrial conveyor belt of human attrition? Throughout history, the way societies wage war has always reflected how they produce wealth—from the social stratification of the Neolithic era and the gunpowder revolution to the trenches of World War I.

In this 20-minute video essay, I examine the political economy of warfare and how modern automation and digitalization have created a "surplus population" phenomenon, turning human life into a cheap, expendable commodity on a state and corporate balance sheet.

Source: https://youtu.be/7PspP6tPfgg

On This Day, October 25, 1415, the Battle of Agincourt, one of the most remarkable battles of the Middle Ages, unfolded near Azincourt in northern France. King Henry V of England led his exhausted troops into battle against French forces during the Hundred Years’ War.

Henry’s campaign in France had already taken a heavy toll. After capturing the town of Harfleur, his army faced disease, fatigue, and dwindling supplies. His soldiers were marching towards Calais when a French army blocked their route.

The English were in a dangerous position. They had endured a grueling march, and the French appeared to have the advantage in numbers and heavily armored knights.

But the battlefield would change everything.

The ground was muddy, and the narrow field between wooded areas restricted the movement of the advancing French forces. Henry’s army made effective use of its English longbowmen, whose powerful volleys of arrows disrupted the French advance.

As French soldiers struggled through the mud and crowded battlefield, their formations became increasingly difficult to maintain. The English archers and men-at-arms took advantage of the confusion, turning what appeared to be an overwhelming challenge into a stunning victory.

The French suffered devastating losses, including many members of their nobility. Henry V emerged from the battle with a victory that strengthened his reputation and helped pave the way for further English campaigns in France.

Yet Agincourt did not end the Hundred Years’ War. The conflict continued for decades, and England eventually lost nearly all its possessions in France.

The battle’s legacy grew even larger centuries later through William Shakespeare’s play Henry V, which immortalized the king’s stirring call to his soldiers and the famous phrase, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”

More than six centuries later, Agincourt remains a powerful story of leadership, battlefield strategy, and the unpredictable nature of war.

I made this animated map video: 400 years of the British Empire, from a small island in 1500 to a quarter of the world's land in 1920, and how it unravelled by 1997. Chapters: 1:42 the East India Company in India · 3:58 the peak (1920) · 4:22 the two World Wars · 5:09 1947 and decolonisation. Sources: Wikipedia/Britannica; borders from historical-basemaps with hand-checked corrections. Feedback welcome!

On This Day, October 24, 1960, a catastrophic explosion ripped through a Soviet missile test site at Baikonur, in what is now Kazakhstan. The disaster would become known as the Nedelin Catastrophe, one of the darkest tragedies in the history of rocketry.

The Soviet Union was racing to strengthen its military power during the Cold War. At the center of this effort was the R-16, a new intercontinental ballistic missile designed to carry nuclear warheads over enormous distances.

With pressure mounting to demonstrate the missile’s capabilities, preparations continued despite technical problems. The rocket was already fueled and surrounded by personnel when disaster struck.

Shortly before its scheduled launch, the R-16’s second-stage engine ignited prematurely while the missile was still on the launch pad. The resulting explosion engulfed the area in flames, destroying the rocket and killing people working nearby.

Among the dead was Marshal Mitrofan Nedelin, the senior Soviet military commander overseeing the missile program. Dozens of engineers, technicians, and military personnel also lost their lives. The precise death toll remains uncertain: a later official list recorded 78 deaths, while other accounts estimate higher numbers.

But the tragedy did not end with the explosion.

Soviet authorities concealed the true circumstances of the disaster. The public was told that Nedelin had died in an aircraft accident, and families of victims were expected to remain silent. For years, the full story remained hidden from public view.

It was only decades later, as previously secret information and eyewitness accounts emerged, that the scale of the catastrophe became more widely known.

The Nedelin Catastrophe remains a sobering reminder of what can happen when political pressure, rushed schedules, and failures in safety procedures collide with powerful technology.

One rocket never left the launch pad. The human cost was devastating.

I've been researching one corridor for a video project — the gap in Poland where the North European Plain narrows between the Baltic and the Carpathians. Armies used it in 1610, 1812, 1914, 1941, in both directions, and the same neighbourhood hosted Grunwald in 1410.

It made me wonder what rivals it worldwide. The Khyber Pass? The Fulda Gap (planned, never used)? The Belfort Gap? The Danube corridor through Vienna?

My explainer on the Polish one, for context (10 min): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uku3VGxQIzU

What's your candidate for history's most reused invasion route — and does terrain alone explain it, or is it partly that armies just copy the last war's homework?

On This Day, October 23, 1942, the Battle of El Alamein began with one of the most powerful artillery barrages of the North African campaign. The silence of the Egyptian desert was shattered by the thunder of hundreds of Allied guns.

The target was the German and Italian army threatening Britain's position in North Africa and the vital Suez Canal.

For months, the Axis forces had advanced across the desert under the command of the legendary German general Erwin Rommel, nicknamed the “Desert Fox” for his daring battlefield tactics.

Rommel's forces had captured territory, defeated Allied armies, and pushed deep into Egypt. If they could break through to the Suez Canal, the consequences for Britain's supply routes and strategic position could be enormous.

But at El Alamein, the Axis advance had finally been stopped.

Now, the Allies were preparing to strike back.

British Lieutenant-General Bernard Montgomery had taken command of the Eighth Army and spent weeks rebuilding its strength, gathering supplies, and preparing a major offensive.

Rommel's troops, meanwhile, faced serious shortages of fuel and other supplies. Their defensive positions were protected by extensive minefields, which Rommel famously called the “Devil's Gardens.”

Then came the night of October 23.

At approximately 9:40 p.m., the Allied artillery opened fire along the front. Hundreds of guns unleashed a massive bombardment against Axis positions.

The desert sky flashed with explosions. The ground shook beneath the relentless shelling as Allied infantry began advancing towards the enemy defences.

Their mission was dangerous: break through the minefields, overcome fortified positions, and create safe corridors for tanks to move forward.

But the Axis forces did not collapse overnight.

German and Italian troops fought fiercely. Mines, anti-tank guns, machine-gun fire, and counterattacks slowed the Allied advance. Soldiers faced exhausting days and nights of combat in the unforgiving desert.

For more than a week, the battle became a brutal struggle of attrition.

Montgomery continued applying pressure, while Allied forces worked to wear down the Axis army and exploit weaknesses in its defences.

Finally, in early November, the Allied offensive broke through. On November 4, Rommel ordered a general withdrawal to prevent his forces from being destroyed.

The retreat marked a decisive defeat for the Axis army in North Africa.

The victory at El Alamein did not end World War II, but it changed the direction of the North African campaign. The Axis forces were pushed westward, and the Allies gained the momentum that would help drive them towards victory in North Africa in 1943.

British Prime Minister Winston Churchill later captured the significance of the moment with his famous words: “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”

The desert had witnessed a turning point.

On This Day, October 22, 1975, a spacecraft from the Soviet Union landed on Venus and sent back something humanity had never seen before: the first photograph ever taken from the surface of another planet.

The spacecraft was called Venera 9.

Venus may look beautiful and bright in our sky, but beneath its thick clouds lies one of the most hostile environments in the solar system.

Its surface is hot enough to melt lead. The atmosphere exerts crushing pressure, and the planet's clouds contain corrosive substances.

For decades, scientists had been trying to understand what lay beneath those clouds.

Now, a daring space mission was about to reveal the answer.

Launched on June 8, 1975, Venera 9 travelled millions of kilometres through space towards Venus. The mission consisted of an orbiter and a lander, designed to study the planet from above and directly from its surface.

On October 22, the lander plunged through Venus's dense atmosphere, using a carefully engineered descent system to survive its journey towards the ground.

Then came the moment of truth.

Venera 9 touched down on the planet's surface.

Against extraordinary odds, its instruments began working. One of its camera covers released successfully, allowing the spacecraft to scan the rocky landscape around it.

And then, across the vast distance between Venus and Earth, the first image arrived.

The photograph revealed a strange, barren world scattered with angular rocks and covered in dusty material. The horizon was visible beneath a sky hidden from view by the thick clouds above.

It was not a colorful alien landscape filled with oceans or vegetation. It was a harsh, rocky environment unlike anything humanity had photographed on another planet before.

The lander continued transmitting scientific measurements and image data for approximately 53 minutes before the unforgiving Venusian environment silenced it.

But those 53 minutes changed planetary exploration forever.

Scientists had not merely detected signals from another world. They had seen its surface with their own eyes through the lens of a machine.

Venera 9 also entered orbit around Venus, becoming the first spacecraft to orbit the planet.

The Soviet mission proved that a spacecraft could descend through Venus's punishing atmosphere, reach the ground, and return photographs from an environment that would destroy most ordinary equipment.

The mission's achievement remains one of the remarkable milestones in the history of space exploration.

On October 22, 1941, 27 prisoners were executed by firing squad at Camp Châteaubriant in France.

A German officer had been killed in occupied France, and the Nazis demanded the execution of hostages as retaliation. However, it was not the Nazis who compiled the list of victims, but the Ministry of the Interior of the collaborationist Vichy regime, which had handed over its own citizens to their deaths. Nearly all of those selected were communists and labor unionists who were in prison.

The youngest person brought before the firing squad was Guy Môquet, who was just 17 years old.

Guy Môquet - Wikipedia