CELEBRATING ANIMAL FARM:
75 YEARS AFTER
At first glance, Animal Farm by George Orwell seems simple—a tale about farmyard animals who rise up against their human master. But beneath its plain surface lies one of the most powerful and enduring political allegories ever written. And reading it today feels almost prophetic.
The story begins with a dream of freedom. The animals, tired of being exploited by humans, decide to create a new society—one where all are equal, where no one goes hungry, and where the fruits of their labor belong to everyone. It’s an idea born out of hope and justice. They name it Animal Farm.
But slowly, quietly, that dream begins to twist.
The pigs, who were once comrades, start to assume control. They speak of equality, yet they change the rules when no one is watching. They rewrite history, bend truth, and convince the others that their suffering is progress.
By the time the animals realize what’s happened, the world they fought for has turned into something darker—something disturbingly familiar.
And that’s where Animal Farm stops being just a book about animals—it becomes a mirror.
Because the manipulation, the propaganda, the rewriting of facts, the use of fear to control—these are not relics of Orwell’s time. They’re the tools of power still used today.
Every era has its own “pigs,” its own smooth-talking voices that promise fairness while tightening their grip. Every society risks becoming Animal Farm when people stop questioning and start obeying.
What makes Orwell’s story so haunting is not just its message—it’s how timeless that message feels. Whether it’s the distortion of truth in the media, the erosion of accountability in politics, or the endless cycle of revolutions that replace one form of oppression with another, Animal Farm reads like a warning written for the world we live in right now.
Yet, it’s not a story of despair. Beneath the cynicism, Orwell urges us to stay awake—to protect truth, to question power, to remember what equality really means.
Because when words lose meaning, when promises become tools of control, when we forget the past—we end up repeating it.
Animal Farm isn’t just a book you read. It’s a book that reads you. It forces you to ask: In a world full of noise and manipulation, am I thinking for myself—or just following the herd?
And that question, more than any slogan or speech, is what keeps Orwell’s masterpiece alive.
