Tag: politics

Anarchy in the Burbs Zine (2020)

Dear readers,

We are excited to present to the world our very first zine! But before we tell you about how this zine came about and its contents, we want to share a bit about ourselves and our aspirations for resistance in the region known as the Inland Empire.

Anarchy in the Burbs began as a project aiming to become a source of collaborative information and resources, by and for IE locals. We initially got the ball rolling with i.e.uprising as an informal news source providing information on – you guessed it – the IE uprisings. We also wanted to provide some political education from a radical, autonomous angle and encourage our community to cultivate agency over our living conditions. We seek to share knowledge and resources for people interested in building a strong base for future liberatory movements in the occupied Inland Empire region.

A call to action: The Inland Empire Will Breathe By Any Means Necessary!

Summer 2020 saw hella people from our hometowns taking the streets in opposition to the police and white supremacy. The fire and fervor also revealed that there are many people in the IE who all envision a world beyond exploitation, prisons, borders, or oppression. In recent years, our communities in the IE are starting to confront another huge problem. Poverty has plagued this region for decades and has become a direct gateway to the logistics beast that’s taken root in our community. Mega-companies such as Amazon and other logistics companies feed off of our people by taking advantage of our economic desperation and precarity. The lack of opportunity in the IE is no accident; we are only wanted as cheap, disposable labor for the wealthy’s profits. We all know that the warehouses and logistics sector have forcibly imposed themselves onto the lives of every resident of the Inland Empire, but it is much more than that: we are confronting a system that is organized in such a way that it literally deprives us of our ability to breathe clean air. We all live within this system that is designed to suffocate life, not nourish it.

Racial capitalism in the Inland Empire is suffocating us all. The encroachment of logistics development is transforming these indigenous lands into large warehouses, changing our communities into diesel death zones where residents struggle between life and death. San Bernardino County residents suffer from a range of illnesses, all of which have been linked to poor air quality caused by the warehouses and the logistics sector. Breathlessness is a fundamental feature of this white supremacist, settler-colonial system that constantly imposes harm and violence upon Black, indigenous, Latinx, and non-white communities. The Black struggle against police brutality and institutional racism has been teaching everyone about this system’s violent mechanisms, and it is summed up by the Black Lives Matter movement with one phrase: “I can’t breathe.” Racial capitalism’s link to the state continues to primarily oppress Black people, and the anti-Blackness that these systems are built on have constructed the blueprint for all other experiences of systemic suffocation, which includes the environmental racism and mass exploitation that we are experiencing in the IE.

In the face of systemic suffocation, we now have to collectively re-assess the meaning of life and move away from the violent system that continues to cause rampant death and the suffocation of our communities. We cannot wait for the good will of our leaders: why would we wait for their good will when we are running out of air to breathe? The time has come for us to become self-determining communities. We all deserve better and we must believe in our ability to reorganize our society in ways that nurture life, not suffocate it. We do not need to have all the answers right now in order to recognize the urgent importance of abolishing the existence of the warehouses and logistics sector that poison our communities. As we can clearly see, life cannot continue this way, and breathing will become impossible unless capitalism and its warehouses are abolished as a whole. Let’s navigate the unknown together and put our minds together to create a better reality than the one that has been imposed on us. As the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, EZLN) movement once said, we learn by walking, and by walking we will learn.

Ultimately, we cannot be hesitant any longer: we must begin a collective departure away from this present civilization of death and its mechanisms of suffocation. Let the IE show the world that we can throw down hard. Let’s combat breathlessness with the fresh air produced by revolt. In the closeness of our bodies and minds in struggle, let us find ways to pass the air that we have left to more of our communities and to other generations. We must attack the foundations and institutions that deprive us of the sacred air we breathe and construct a new reality that does not commodify and exploit the planet and our people. We just want to breathe: this is not a demand but a threat. We will not ask for permission anymore. We will breathe by any means necessary.

Let’s hit the streets now: How this zine came about

In the wake of the George Floyd uprisings as well as movement organizing in the time of COVID-19, we tried to consolidate useful, consumable information for the IE locals who were beginning to take the streets and organize for the first time in their lives. We centralized information for actions until street demos died down, at which point we decided to focus on providing an informal and introductory political education. We broke down what we felt were useful organizing concepts and theory as well as addressed common questions and concerns in an effort to welcome folks new to this scene, analyzing with an IE lens so that anybody could use these findings in a local (or similar) setting when the time comes. Simply: there isn’t enough writing on suburban-based and small city autonomous organizing (especially for new folks coming into it), so we tried to remedy that.

Of course, for COVID and non-COVID reasons, there were limits to organizing (especially social media organizing), but the webpages have been a starting point for many faceless readers as well as for the working relationships we’ve made since then. Although organizing in the IE has obviously existed prior to summer 2020, there was a palpable invigoration of interest and mutual aid following the uprisings in memory of George Floyd, and we’re grateful for the projects and communities borne of or multiplied by it. Our contribution is small but hopefully significant to somebody, and so we’ve compiled this zine in memory of the wildfire George Floyd produced and the ensuing history made in the Inland Empire. We hope that the lessons and advice offered in this zine can help push movement organizing in the IE to new, unseen levels in the future.

Get up to speed: What you will find in this zine

A lot of our thought processes and writing interventions center around addressing common obstacles that get in the way of increasing our autonomous capabilities. Our writings address these issues by attempting to unpack – and thus, remove – those obstacles that get in the way of increasing our collective power, removing them one by one. Below is an outline of some of the information we have compiled, practical advice, and critiques of common organizing logics that we felt were important to address and unpack. We hope that y’all find some of these arguments relevant and timely, and that they lend to making our movements stronger. We hope that you can share this zine and discuss it together in community, only by collectively discussing and seeing each other will we figure out the ways to set our communities free at last.

I. Info Hub
An informal directory of Inland Empire projects and groups that readers can plug into. This section also contains further readings and resources on abolition and autonomy.

II. Know-How
Some brief resources and guides on essential skills, from the digital to the streets to general survival.

III. Practice
Introductory (but crucial) concepts and practical information for folks interested in autonomous organizing.

IV. Critique
Various critiques of common obstacles seen in left organizing spaces, including criticisms of 1. rigid ideology and political labeling, 2. symbolic protest, 3. representation, 4. non-violence, and 5. electoral politics.

Burn Your Ballot— Political Theatre Does Not Represent Us

Consider this comprehensive piece as the final word on the topic of voting. Voting for better politicians, mayors, police commissioners, policies, or presidents will never set us free. By voting, we surrender our own autonomy by recognizing the legitimacy of this shitty system through participation in it. We must refuse our involvement in the games of reforms or bargaining. What is most at stake in our participation in this settler-colonial, anti-Black political system is the issue of capture: if we participate and vote in this system, we are embedded even deeper within this decaying system (even if it is for “good” reforms), instead of separating ourselves from it. Only through a collective departure— or, mass non-participation—will we ever be able to become autonomous and self-determining. In the end, every vote for a politician is a vote for increasing state power: the politician’s power only comes from the barrel of a police officer’s gun. Are we trying to set our communities free through abolition, or increase the legitimacy of this police state? We must heed the words of Martin Luther King Jr. when he rightfully observed that political participation is just “integration into a burning house”. It will be on us to create the infrastructure and alternatives needed for us to finally desert this sinking ship.

126 million people do not care about political theatre.

There has been a lot of discourse over the upcoming presidential election this coming November. All kinds of people have had deep arguments revolving around the following concerns: “Why should we vote?” “What are the downsides of not voting?” “Reasons why we should never vote.” “Why voting is anti-Black and colonial,” etc. In the end, debates about all of these positions around voting re-center the American political machine, whether or not people feel sympathetic or apathetic towards the political institution itself. However, there has been very little discussion that mentions the large mass of people who do not vote.

Here are a few basic statistics:

  • There are about 330 million people living in the US.
  • There are about 16-20 million people who cannot vote because they are undocumented, felons, or ex-convicts.
  • There are about 246 million people who are eligible to vote in the US.
  • There were only about 136 million people who turned out to vote for a president in 2016.

So, these numbers and some simple math show that there were about 126-130 million people in the US who did not vote in 2016.

We argue that these people will never be fully absorbed into the system and its political institutions, and we should explore the potentialities that underlie this reality. In particular, we want to ask some questions about all the debates regarding voting: Who’s having these conversations about voting in the first place? Are we speaking to educated, college degree audiences? Are all of the debates on voting – whether defenses for or rebuttals against – even relevant to the over 126 million people who do not vote? If we all know that the political system is failing and dying, how can we side step and move beyond the need to center the political institution in the first place? If there are at least 126 million people who frankly do not care about politics or the nation’s political theatre, what can this mean for autonomous movement building?

The debates around voting tend to be very saviorist, which imply a desire to “save” others from acting “improperly.” This is a form of paternalism. We hope that we can one day render all political institutions (and the police that underlie them) irrelevant to our lives, and maybe that begins with the 126 million who are apathetic about politics – as we should all be.

Autonomy will never be achieved at the voting booths.

Time and time again, we see and hear the argument about privilege in regard to voting: the people who do vote are privileged and selfish, and the people who don’t vote are somehow also privileged and selfish. This argument is tired and premised on shaming people into action through condescension and guilt. So, who are these people who aren’t voting, and why don’t they vote, anyway?

Despite the opinions claiming that non-voters are the “privileged few” who have no critical stake in politics:

  • Voting trends in 2016 and 2018 both show that almost half of nonvoters are non-white, even though these communities compose only one-fourth of the voting population.
  • 56% of nonvoters are quite poor – making less than $30,000 per year – even though that income group constitutes just over one-fourth of the voting population.

People who abstain from voting do so because they are so misrepresented or entirely ignored by electoral politics and policies to bother voting. The solution to a corrupt system can’t be to just register these people to vote and provide information on candidates or policies, because the problem isn’t whether they have the capacity to vote. They choose not to vote because electoral politics have not substantially changed their lived realities. There is a correlation between those who choose not to vote and those who belong to the most vulnerable communities – people who are indigenous, Black, undocumented, queer, poor, and so on.

One of the most common arguments for “voting blue no matter who” is the fear of mass deportations and further xenophobia from the Trump administration.

  • 409,849 undocumented folks were deported under Obama in 2012.
  • A little over 265,000 undocumented folks were deported under Trump in 2019.
  • Section 287(g) of the Immigration and Nationality Act states that law enforcement (local) can partner with ICE (federal) to deport people in a local community. This means that cities and counties can become subject to federal jurisdiction regardless of more benevolent local policies – and/or local elected representatives.

These local representatives and local elections are, on a smaller scale, comparable to “voting blue no matter who” when it comes to presidency. At the end of the day, local and federal electoral politics are just electoral politics, and this is just one snapshot demonstrating the neglect of one vulnerable group of people.

In San Bernardino, local elected officials are making six-digit salaries while the city recovers from bankruptcy for the past five years, and while most members of the community aren’t making even close to that salary range. How can it be argued that electoral politics and elected officials are designed to listen to and protect vulnerable communities, when these communities are the first to be exploited – even at the local level?

“… We must recognize how [these] systems have evolved to the point where you hardly have to keep someone from voting to keep their vote from having effect. The system evolves to protect itself, and privilege is the opposite of giving up on the belief it will self-rectify” – Hari Ziyad.

We can do more – and better – for ourselves than voting.

Flint, Michigan is still without clean water. Continuous accounts of state violence are being (badly) mitigated by Democratic promises of reform that will give more funding to police. Joe Biden himself has explicitly stated that he does not – and will never – support Medicare for All. The last post included deportation statistics under Obama vs. Trump; there is a reason Obama was labeled “deporter in chief” despite being a Democratic president. These problems don’t start or end with blue vs. red, and they won’t end just by flipping the White House. Even when Obama ran under a campaign that promised “change,” the most vulnerable populations still suffered and were placated by empty promises. Now, Joe Biden himself has assured Americans that “nothing [will] fundamentally change.”

For younger, self-identifying “leftists,” Bernie Sanders’ first presidential campaign was an initial exposure to “leftism.” If his 2016 – and his most recent – defeat should have taught his supporters anything, it’s that the two-party system is designed to maintain the status quo, and that even the threat of capitalism-lite (Sanders’ Democratic Socialism) is still threatening enough for Democrats to end it themselves. The 2016 email leak revealed correspondence between DNC officials stating that the Democratic National Committee (DNC) “tried to aid [Hillary] Clinton and hamper [Bernie] Sanders,” as well as discussed ways they could sabotage Sanders’ campaign and smudge his public appearance. Not only did this demonstrate the monopoly that the two-party voting system has over the United States, it also explicitly revealed that even the “progressive party” will refuse to move further left if it threatens the hierarchy.

That all being said, it’s safe to say that most of us are not represented or protected by electoral politics and politicians, even locally. When you trust the government and its legislation instead of yourself and your community, you unintentionally reinforce the need to appeal to the moral judgement of those in power. Voting cannot be our survival strategy when so many colonized and oppressed people won’t survive, even after they vote. We don’t need to ask permission to exist safely and live dignified lives. We deserve more than the crumbs of politicians and reformist legislature.

Many of the people who are up in flames about non-voters are people whose “activism” ends at voting and getting people to vote. A lot of these people condescend non-voters and sarcastically ask leftists, “Well then, what do you want me to do?” Which begs the question… What can you do instead of voting?

“White Democrats who are pushing for Black folks to save America from itself have demonstrated our relative unimportance by refusing to help us strategize around safety during participation in electoral politics.” – Brittany Lee Frederick.

White voters, what are y’all doing to ensure the safety of Black voters and the follow-through of white politicians? What are y’all doing to ensure the safety of BIPOC period? There’s more work to be done than just voting on the ballot and never doing any other work. Still, we don’t want to encourage defeatism or inaction by overwhelming people with the amount of work that needs to be done; that’s the opposite of what any of us should focus on.

It’s when we renounce electoral politics and also refrain from doing other work that we feel most defeated and eventually, guilted into “at least” voting… and the cycle continues. That guilt and impotence that stems from inaction is diminished when we get involved in our communities and see our power first hand. We can’t invalidate the work people are doing outside of the system just because they didn’t bubble in their ballots; that’s just one action in their lives as opposed to many. Even if we all bubbled in ballots, the real change will come from doing the labor and building support networks within our own communities. So much attention is focused on voter registration and information, especially with the upcoming elections.

But how different could things be if we reallocated our resources and numbers from politics and directly into the community? The refusal to participate in this system comes after divesting from the system itself, a slow process that comes after the realization that no politicians will come to your rescue because they simply don’t care. Instead of letting that instill fear and hopelessness in you, let it radicalize and empower you. Choosing not to vote isn’t fatalistic, as some believe; in fact, there’s more hope in trusting that our communities can fend for themselves without relying on puppets. When we redirect our idealism and hope from the system and into ourselves, there is a higher likelihood that our needs and the needs of our communities will be met.

The reality for most is that we don’t have the resources to fully invest in electoral politics and also resist them. The truth is that with jobs, school, families, and downtime to account for, most can’t fully invest in phone banking for politicians and still have the time and energy to commit to organizing in their community. When we talk about dismantling and defunding and abolishing, it’s easy to get lost in the commitment to destruction and forget that we also need to build and nurture. A big part of the fight lies in how we build support networks outside of the structures we hope to destroy. There are already people and projects across the IE getting involved and helping their communities.

Do you have clothes you never got rid of during spring cleaning because we got stuck in quarantine? Consider putting together a clothing drive or clothes swap with some friends. Do you have a space in your yard and like to garden? Plant some herbs and veggies and distribute produce around your block. Do you like crafting and working with your hands? Make some face masks and hand sanitizer to give out to the houseless population. Anything from skill sharing – cooking classes, financial literacy courses, political education, translation services, and more – to providing services – child-care, ride sharing, community gardening, running errands for the elderly (especially during COVID) – is useful.

Everyone has a skill, an interest, a talent. We can all build on what we already have and share it with our community instead of waiting on politics to save us.

References

– Clusiau, C. & Schwarz, S. (Directors). (2020). The power of the vote [Television series episode]. In Schwartz, S. (Producer), Immigration nation. Scotts Valley, California: Netflix.

– Greenwald, G. (2020, Apr 9) Nonvoters are not privileged. They are disproportionately lower-income, nonwhite, and dissatisfied with the two parties. The Intercept. https://theintercept.com

– NYT Editorial Board (2019, Jul 13) All presidents are deporters in chief. The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/

– Department of Homeland Security (2020, Sep 30) Delegation of immigration authority section 287(g) immigration and nationality act. https://www.ice.gov/287g

– Ziyad, H. (2016, Oct 13) Not voting is not a privilege. Black Youth Project. http://blackyouthproject.com/

Ballotpedia (2016) Democratic national committee (DNC) email leak, 2016. https://ballotpedia.org

Higgins, E. (2019, June 19) Vowing not to ‘demonize’ the rich, biden tells billionaires ‘nothing would fundamentally change’ if he was elected. Common Dreams. https://www.commondreams.org

Further reading:

“Reaching Beyond ‘Black Faces in High Places’: An Interview With Joy James” from Truthout

“Socialist Faces in High Places: Elections & the Left” by Black Rose/Rosa Negra

“Voting is Not Harm Reduction” by Indigenous Action

Against the Politics of Safety, Privilege, and Allyship

We have all heard it before:

“Black people and POC should not be at the frontlines, it is too dangerous for them.”

“The role of white people is to do the riskiest tasks, BIPOC are too at risk!”

“Only white people destroy things and agitate, BIPOC know not to do those things!”

“I am an ally to this struggle and will only do the things that the leaders of the struggle say to do.”

All of these misled statements and widely held beliefs result in the following:

  • Erasure of Black, Indigenous, and POC militants, risk-takers, and revolutionaries
  • Belittle and infantilize the struggles of marginalized people by telling them how to NOT resist
  • Gaslight and mislead marginalized people into thinking that directly fighting back is counter-productive
  • Upholds savior complexes and allows clout-seeking individuals to become representatives of a struggle by centering respectability, pacifism, and legibility to those in power

When (typically white) people say that others cannot militantly resist their own oppression, they minimize the harm that the oppressed endure, patronize the oppressed by insisting on how they should be receiving help from their “allies,” and establish a false binary between those who can versus those who cannot “properly” resist.

We are told that resistance lies in “speaking truth to power” rather than attacking power materially. We are told by an array of non-profit-certified “white allies” that the very things we need to do in order to free ourselves from domination cannot be done by us because we’re simply too vulnerable to state repression. To these things, we must say, Enough bullshit! We must refuse this idea of privilege: the idea that only a select exclusive few can take up action against systems of oppression.

The privilege theory model of activism has weakened movement organizing by confusing identity categories with solidarity, thus reinforcing stereotypes about the political homogeneity and helplessness of “communities of color.” However, many self-appointed leaders tend to weaponize the concept of “the community” in order to wield it for their (usually liberal and reformist) ends. Uncritical adherence to the use of the word “community” tends to hide the power moves made by clout-seekers. We should push back against the habit of deferring to the concerns of so-called “community leaders.”

It is a well-worn activist formula to point out that “representatives” of different identity categories must be placed “front-and-center” in struggles against oppression. But this is meaningless without also specifying the content of their politics. For example, the US Army is simultaneously one of the most racially integrated and oppressive institutions in American society. “Diversity” alone is a meaningless political idea which defines agency as inclusion within oppressive systems and equates identity categories with political beliefs.

These models of privilege and allyship politics relinquishes power to political representatives and reinforces stereotypes of individually “deserving” and “undeserving” victims of racism, sexism, and homophobia. A vast nonprofit industrial complex and a class of professional “community spokespeople” has arisen over the last several decades to define the parameters of acceptable political action and debate. However, we must challenge all and every group’s attempts at trying to become the most “legitimate” actor against oppression. Ultimately, “legitimacy” has more to do with hoarding social, cultural, and material capital rather than the subversion required to undo all forms of capital.

This politics of safety continually projects an image of powerlessness that keeps BIPOC, women, and trans/queers “protected,” confining them to speeches and mass rallies rather than active disruption. This kind of politic defers to palatable, white middle-class cultural values, such as respectability, legitimacy, or legibility. When we are considered too “rowdy” or “defensive” by liberals and reformists, they are ultimately making us LESS safe by diluting the true nature of resistance. As oppressed peoples, in order for us to be TRULY safe, we needa get rowdy and violent towards this dangerous system against the wishes of respectable “activists” or “community leaders”!

When activists argue that power “belongs in the hands of the most oppressed,” it is clear that their primary audience for these appeals can only be white activists, and that they understand power as something which is granted or bestowed by the powerful. Appeals to white benevolence to let BIPOC “lead political struggles” assumes that white activists can somehow relinquish their privilege and legitimacy to oppressed communities and that these communities cannot act and take power for themselves. Allyship is treated as an identity, but it is not true solidarity: solidarity is based on action, not on opinions or by superficially “leaving your privilege at the door.”

BIPOC communities are not a single, homogeneous bloc with identical political opinions. White allyship both flattens political differences between whites and homogenizes the populations they claim to speak on behalf of. The absurdity of privilege politics re-centers anti-racist practice on whites and white behavior, and assumes that racism (and often by implicit or explicit association, anti-Blackness, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia) manifest primarily as individual privileges which can be “checked,” given up, or absolved through individual resolutions. Privilege politics is ultimately completely dependent upon precisely that which it condemns: white benevolence.

In seeking oppressed groups to take direction from, white folks of­ten end up tokenizing a specific group whose politics most match their own. “What does the NAACP [or Critical Resistance, or the Dreamers] think about this?” Likewise, they may latch on to the most visible “leaders” of a community because it is quicker and easier to meet the director of an organization, minister of a church, or politician representing a district than to build real relationships with the people those leaders purport to represent. This approach to dismantling racism structurally reinforces the hierarchical power that we’re fighting against by asking a small group to represent the views of an entire category of people with radically different lived experiences.

Being an ally has come to mean legitimizing a political position by borrowing someone else’s voice— always acting in someone else’s name without questioning the principle of appropriating others’ struggles. It’s a way of simultaneously taking power and evading personal accountability.

The idea of allyship obscures the fact that hidden choices are being made about who is being listened to, inculcating the idea that there is a single “community of people of color” that share common interests that could be properly represented by leaders, rather than a heterogeneous mass with both overlapping and sometimes deeply contradictory ideas. This repositions the white ally to wield the power of determining who are the most representative and appropriate black and brown voices. And, most importantly, who are white “allies” to determine who/ what is the most appropriate anything?

We must abolish the ally-industrial complex, and all of the components that make it possible: non-profits, whiteness, infantilization, representation, individualism, legitimacy, respectability, and the fear of truly disruptive revolt.

In place of the politics of allyship and privilege and their forms of activism, we suggest:

  • Warding off any and all attempts of local actors that try to seize the title of “community leader,” “local organizer,” “representative/ voice of xyz” – such moves are hierarchical power grabs and should be checked as such.
  • Building relationships with community as accomplices, not allies, which are relations realized through mutual consent and built trust.
  • As accomplices, being compelled to become accountable and responsible to each other.
  • Not waiting around for anyone to proclaim you an accomplice. You certainly cannot proclaim it yourself; you just are or you are not. The lines of oppression are already drawn.
  • Direct action is really the best and perhaps the only way to learn what it means to be an accomplice: we’re in a fight, so be ready for confrontation and consequence.
  • Recognizing that we inhabit multiplicity, which means that we live in a diverse world with communities that vary significantly between and within themselves. So, as we build power, we must acknowledge that we can only ever speak and act for ourselves.

Activism™ Must Be Abolished: Abandon Old Activist Models

This is a short guide on abandoning outdated (but popular) activist models for folks new to organizing in the Inland Empire. Take the time for this important read. It is a breakdown of what so-called “activism” is, how it stifles true community building, and what can be done in place of that model. Note that this is a critique of Activism™ as a particular brand that people take up and the dynamic it creates, and NOT criticism of organizing against oppression itself. We are all for the proliferation of autonomous activities, but not for using movement organizing for clout-chasing or celebrity culture. Abolish Activism™!

Have you ever had these fears before entering new organizing spaces?:

– Concerns about not being radical enough in others’ eyes?

– Being shut off by others, or having your ideas rejected and dismissed?

– Feeling like you constantly have to prove your self-worth and commitment?

– Fears about not having the “right” politics or the “best” analysis?

– Hyper-awareness of oneself and of others that constantly looks for errors?

You are not alone if you have ever felt these feelings and all of those feelings are valid. Not only is engaging in a new environment anxiety-inducing on its own, many of these feelings and fears come from the ways a particular model of “activism” has taken over community and organizing spaces. This model approaches organizing as though it has all the answers, which is rooted in an ideology that believes liberation can only be engaged in one particular type of way, which then invalidates all the other ways that groups and individuals engage with organizing and community-building. Much of the more popular, self-proclaimed, and highly visible “activism/ activists” model behaviors and ideas that, in reality, do more harm than good in organizing spaces, creating a model for newcomers to follow who then perpetuate that same dynamic.

We encourage folks to do the work without worrying so much about labeling themselves or their work as “activists” and “activism,” respectively. After all, whether you’re anonymous or simply unlabeled, your work will show for itself if it’s good work.

What else does the model of activism consist of?

– The activism model needs people who are deemed “activists,” and these people who call themselves “activists” usually try to set the terms and agenda for all the right and wrong ways that other people (“non-activists”) can engage with social change.

– Usually, these activists are people with a lot of social capital, visibility, and popularity, and they self-appoint themselves as representatives of a particular struggle, usually seeking to profit off of it (see: DeRay Mckesson).

– Activism then tends to consolidate itself into scenes and cliques, which are exclusive in-groups that exclude people who are deemed not “worthy” or “smart” enough to engage with the political struggle that they are trying to control.

Where does the model of activism originate from?

Fundamentally, the problem with activism (and activists) is that it tries to tell you what is right and wrong, robbing you of the ability to think and act for yourself.

Historically, activist mentality can be tied to the histories of institutional religion and its morality. The building blocks of activism can be traced to a Christian current of moralism and the way it instilled fear and hostility towards a sinful world. Through practices like confession, Christianity taught its subjects   to internalize their own sinfulness and guilt (for more on this point, check out the book titled Joyful Militancy”). Another historical building block that leads to the emergence of activist mentality is the institution of schooling. The educational system crushes the openness to new ways of doing things. For example, traditional schooling replaces curiosity with instruction, memorization, and hierarchical evaluation, so you do not get to think for yourself.

Together, morality and schooling (as well as many other social institutions) affect the way we think that organizing must be done. They impact and create the image of activism that restricts other ways of thinking and doing.

What are the problems with the model of activism?

– It puts you in a box and closes off all kinds of other potential ways of doing things.

– It becomes the only legitimate way to engage, so it becomes condescending toward new organizers who do not fit into the activists’ ideals and protocols.

– It has made toxic in-groups and out-groups, each with their own specialized languages and habits.

– It is dismissive towards non-activists and discourages autonomy.

– Its ways of doing things become very cookie-cutter and performative, with preset ideas of how to act properly at all times (as opposed to what may be needed in a particular moment or setting).

How can we move beyond the model of activism?

Ultimately, the activist mentality is full of tendencies that seek to fix, govern, discipline, and control other people. Activist practices are based on suspicion and distrust towards the capabilities of others, constantly pitting people and groups in competition with each other. Activism prevents us from thinking about our liberation in deeper ways; it entrenches us in only one way of doing things as opposed to living dynamically.

Instead of trying to control others, we should learn to remain curious and open to newness. Instead of dismissing our community members, we should embrace and work across our differences and open the possibilities of invention, experimentation, and creativity. Instead of creating a cliquey and unwelcoming social scene, we should find ways to build trust and community because liberation will always be a collective effort.

A few suggestions for organizing instead of using the activist model:

  1. Abolish that “activist” mentality. We should be centering people and communities first, not activist cliques and their desires to control others.
  2. Push for a proliferation of different kinds of activity, and not conform into just one type of activism. (Again, we are critiquing the label instead of the work.)
  3. Measure action by its local effectiveness (in terms of materially dismantling oppression), not by how it measures up to the ideals and standards of activist cliques.
  4. Proactively create warm and inviting social and community spaces so that no one feels like they are unable to contribute to the struggles for our freedom.

In conclusion… Activism must be abolished.