Welcome to Eureka Street
Looking for thought provoking articles?Subscribe to Eureka Street and join the conversation.
Passwords must be at least 8 characters, contain upper and lower case letters, and a numeric value.
Eureka Street uses the Stripe payment gateway to process payments. The terms and conditions upon which Stripe processes payments and their privacy policy are available here.
Please note: The 40-day free-trial subscription is a limited time offer and expires 31/3/24. Subscribers will have 40 days of free access to Eureka Street content from the date they subscribe. You can cancel your subscription within that 40-day period without charge. After the 40-day free trial subscription period is over, you will be debited the $90 annual subscription amount. Our terms and conditions of membership still apply.
There are more than 24 results, only the first 24 are displayed here.
Become a subscriber for more search results.
Before heartthrobs became brand names, there was Richard Chamberlain. A matinee idol with the soul of a serious actor, he rose to fame as Dr. Kildare, sought after Shakespeare, and stole scenes from Gielgud. His legacy is a portrait of quiet yearning — for love, for truth, for artistic respect.
What makes a war just? Can any goal justify the deaths of tens of thousands, the bombing of hospitals, the starvation of civilians? As the devastation in Gaza deepens, these questions press harder. In a conflict marked by profound suffering, what moral, legal, or human standards can still hold?
As Australia heads toward a federal election, the government’s latest budget offers relief but fails the deeper test of justice. In a nation facing rising inequality and entrenched disadvantage, what’s missing is a vision anchored in the common good, a politics that serves not just voters, but the voiceless.
As war rages, the climate suffers and inequality grows, the ancient idea of Jubilee feels newly urgent. Can an economy built on profit give way to one rooted in justice? Can the Church trade power for presence? Renewal may begin where the poor, the displaced and the earth come together.
With America's reliability in question, Australia is rethinking what security really means. Should it double down on military self-reliance, or reconsider the cost of placing defence above all else? As alliances fray and power shifts, the country faces a deeper reckoning: whom can it trust—and at what price?
Shakespeare’s Henry V has long been celebrated as a stirring hymn to English valour, a theatrical counterpart to Churchill’s wartime oratory. But beneath its rousing rhetoric lies a darker truth of a king who breaks hearts as easily as he wins battles, a war epic that disguises the brutality it glorifies.
Donald Trump’s return to the White House was the culmination of decades of economic decline, political disillusionment, and cultural fracture, forces the liberal elite ignored at their peril. As Trump reshapes America’s role in the world, his rise reveals hard truths about democracy, populism, and power in the 21st century.
What feels like turbulence in the present often reveals itself, in hindsight, as the rupture of an era. From the fall of Rome to the upheavals of today, are we witnessing mere disruption, or the twilight of an old order?
Frank Brennan wears his prominence lightly. A priest, lawyer, and tireless advocate for Indigenous rights and refugees, he is as at home in political corridors as he is at the dinner table, welcoming friends with stories and good cheer. Now, celebrating 50 years as a Jesuit, he reflects on faith, justice, and a life of service.
Portents, auguries, challenge my faith. A star shines over a publishing house. They have produced a book by a poet who has never written a word. Poetry bends, pretends, protects, its grand scope.
As Australia heads towards another federal election, the influence of big money in politics looms larger. In the U.S., billionaires and corporate interests have eroded trust in government. Campaigns there cost billions of dollars, while ours, for now, do not. But can we keep it that way?
David Szalay’s Flesh unfolds with quiet, mesmeric intensity, charting a life shaped by desire, disappointment and disaster. As the ordinary shades into the catastrophic, Szalay’s controlled, unshowy prose builds a world of betrayals, longings and subtle devastations, proving, once again, that no one writes the ache of being alive quite like him.
13-24 out of 24 results.