Skip to content

Muntjac Magazine

4th world Anarchists for a magazine as a community resource by us, for us.

  • Magazine
  • Recent Posts
  • Articles
  • Submissions
  • Zines & Merch
  • Anarchism In Sudan Archive
  • About & FAQ
  • Current Issue

Month: May 2025

June 11, 2025: The Landscape Tranforms

Posted on 31/05/2025 by muntjac

 

From june11.noblogs.org 

English PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Français PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Deutsch PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Letonă PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Svenska PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Română PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Español PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Polski PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing
Português PDF for screen reading & PDF for printing

 

2025 Call – The Landscape Transforms

Spring is unfolding, and the time has again come to look towards June 11th, the International Day of Solidarity with Marius Mason and Long-term Anarchist prisoners. While our celebration of this day is to lend attention to Marius and other anarchist prisoners at risk of being forgotten because of their long sentences, we’re also continually thinking about how to emphasize how integral prisoners are, and an anti-prison struggle as a whole is, on our path towards freedom.

The site of prison has long held a rebellious and revolutionary potential. Prison is a place for rebels to encounter one another, learn together and organize among themselves. The historical legacy of revolt inside means that the prison of today is even better equipped to manage, isolate and repress rupture. Yet prison, like everything else, is not totalizing in its ability to control or stifle. Despite repression, despite the stultifying effects of things like drugs and institutional violence, prisoners continue to innovate and adapt and those of us on the outside can continue to do the same, in our relationships of solidarity and in our moves toward a world without prisons. This year, we’re struck by a vision of a seed germinated by fire. It waits for the heat and smoke to indicate when the environment is cleared and suitable, to take its chance at life. In a hyper-civilized world that has attempted to eliminate fire in its quest for domination, we must set fire to the old and call forth a birth of new life.

As the terror of this dominant order comes to new, or at least previously obscured heights, we are thinking about how to embolden new paths and relationships alongside terrain that has held potential and embodied revolt since its inception. Our paths will continue to demand experimentation, adaptability, ingenuity. May we be stoked by the dying off of old forces, and enlivened by our readiness for, and taking of, new ways of life!

There is a proud history of anarchists and other radicals meeting up in prison, and a history of them mentoring and teaching others. Black Liberation and adjacent struggles in the US created pockets of radicalization inside prisons, should they be captured, that lead to moments like the Attica Uprising in 1971. Transfers of the long-term recalcitrants lead to meetings of minds like when Sundiata Acoli, Joe Joe Bowen, Hanif Shabazz Bey, and Ray Luc Levasseur met in Marion, Illinois. Joe Joe, for one, continued teaching guerilla strategies long after. Long-term anarchist prisoners have been involved in hunger and work strikes in prisons the world over, notably including many of the Greek comrades, like Nikos Maziotis. The Chilean anarchist, subversive, and Mapuche prisoners collectively pen statements for many days of action, not least of all Mónica Caballero, staying connected to struggles beyond the walls. They also inspire defiance outside of prison, as we see in many actions claimed in solidarity with the comrades aforementioned, and of recent significance: Alredo Cospito’s 180-day hunger strike that, before ending last year, brought about so many incendiary actions. There have also been instances of elders and lifers taking responsibility for mass actions to try to shield others from additional time and consequences.

The state uses prisons to limit and contain rebellious individuals, revolutionary projects, and organizing on the outside. This can sometimes backfire, turning the prison into a hotbed of revolt and radicalization. To adapt to the revolutionary potential of prisoner organizing, modern prisons make use of several tools to control the movement of people, ideas, and skills in an attempt to quash potential revolt. These tools include surveillance – increasingly technological – of individuals, movement, and relationships, and stoking divisions among classes of prisoners, pitting them against each other. Direct physical violence and isolation are used even more liberally on the trouble-makers, advocates, and teachers. In addition to throwing some one in isolation, sometimes for decades, the system also transfers people away from their block, those they trust and organized with, or across the country from their family and supporters. The ongoing expansion of prison systems and facilities is necessary to be able to separate and distance us from each other. Whenever prisoners rise up, the state increases and adapts these measures, and innovates new ones, to prevent it from happening again. All of the barriers we currently face in staying connected and empowered are evidence of just how much the wardens and the managers have to be afraid of.

How, then, do we also adapt to the innovation of tools and techniques of control. First, we must seek to understand them. Often it is the long-term prisoners who can best observe, test, and articulate the behavior of the state, as they have seen it shift over time. This is just one of many reasons why we must actively facilitate their participation in anarchist spaces. So, for us, developing redundant and decentralized ways to stay in communication despite the surveillance and censorship is essential. This is required for us to build inside-outside organizing and collaborations between the imprisoned and the more-free. Correspondence also serves to remind captives that they are not forgotten and their captors that we are watching. Material support is also essential. Money for anarchist prisoners not only helps them get what they need from commissary, but can also flow to others who have less social support. Beyond commissary, funds can also be used in the prison economy to buy or create tools to maintain communication, or for protection from guard or fellow prisoner violence. We must also build the capacity to act in solidarity and in response to what we learn from inside comrades, whether that be in the form of prison demos, phone zaps, destructive acts, and other things few of us have yet dreamt of.

When an anarchist goes to prison, they can serve as a point of connection between people inside and out. Our commitment to and style of doing prisoner support enables this connection to bear fruit, not only for individuals but also, in the best cases, to challenge the power of the state where it is most concentrated. There are many forms this role of anarchist and politicized prisoner can take. They can use their position, voice, and ability to have it amplified, to speak to larger issues. This informs outside comrades on the struggles of captive people. In the U.S., this has best been seen in Black Liberation struggles and overlap between the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation Army activity on the outside, and the uprisings in jails and prisons across the country. More recently, we’ve seen Eric King advocating for friends he made inside who helped him during some of his hardest times. We’ve also seen several people locked up in Atlanta jails for involvement in Stop Cop City and in Pennsylvania for alleged involvement in animal liberation use their media connections to describe conditions inside and to tell the stories of people they met inside. Most people in prison do not have anyone who can proliferate their words, whether through a blog, a zine, or graffiti. Anarchist spaces can and do just that. Michael Kimble is a great example of acting as a conduit between outside support and a captive queer population doing mutual aid on their own terms. Though they are still very precarious and under attack, Marius Mason has been able to strongly influence the treatment of and access for trans people in the federal prison system. In 2020, Jeremy Hammond recorded a video of himself and other captives expressing solidarity with Black Lives Matter protests in the streets. Malik Muhammad writes a column on his blog telling the stories of and doing interviews with people he’s met in segregation. Through his connection to other anarchists, Michael Kimble shares radical Black history on his block during Black History Month and Black August. In these ways, anarchist prisoners tie inside struggle and radicalization to the larger movement outside.

The reverse is also true. By the nature of their position, anarchist prisoners strengthen the larger movement by informing its analysis, methods, and priorities. By their inclusion in the anarchist space, we demystify incarceration and teach each other best practices and survival techniques. This, in turn, empowers others to take necessary risks, knowing they are not alone. Our commitment to supporting our prisoners keeps us honest to our value of confronting state power even where it is most powerful. Maintaining relationships and facilitating the participation in movement space of people who are physically taken from us provides anarchists with a wing of struggle that is “behind enemy lies.” The power to incarcerate, to disappear, to silence, to steal comrades, family, and friends must be contested.  And that contestation can only happen with other politicized and revolutionary prisoners. By meeting and struggling together in prison, it strengthens ties between criminalized people and the underclasses: an informal and irregular meeting of enemies of the state.

Our moves towards a life of freedom are undoubtedly shaped and strengthened by struggling alongside those captured by the state. The inventiveness and courage needed to maintain survival and one’s values inside can teach us a great deal about what spirit will need to be mustered as we forge ahead. May this June 11th be a day to reflect on those we love inside, those we grow and struggle with that are locked away, and to make further moves against this world full of prisons and the forces that maintain it.

Prisoner Updates:

Marius Mason is now less than 2 years away from release! Despite the progress he has made for himself and other transgender prisoners, and due to anti-trans policies of the U.S. federal government, in March he was transferred back to a women’s facility in Danbury, Connecticut. The state is also now requiring we deadname Marius in our correspondence. Michael Kimble was also recently transferred to another Alabama facility. He is still working on his resentencing and continues to participate in anarchist publishing. After going on hunger strike because of his property being taken and other harassment, Malik Muhammad was transferred to another facility in Oregon. At this facility, too, he has been targeted and thrown in seg, falsely accused of trying to organize a general strike. Sean Swain continues his collaboration with Final Straw radio. Comrade Z has also worked with Final Straw and written articles for Texas Observer Magazine. Xinachtli has a new fundraising campaign.

Internationally we celebrate that Claudio Lavazza was released from prison last year, after a lifetime in the anarchist struggle. We also note the continued fight of Alfredo Cospito, and now Francisco Solar (in Italy and Chile, respectively), against their particularly heinous conditions. Mónica Caballero continues to organize and speak out from inside the Chilean prisons, and we’ve recently seen some calls for financial support. New repression has also begun in Greece, after an untimely blast in Athens killed one comrade and injured another named Marianna. We stand with all those comrades charged after the explosion. Also, Nikos Maziotis’ request for conditional release has been rejected by the Greek courts since he pronounced the obvious truth that “revolutionaries are not ‘corrected’ nor ‘morally improved,’” so he is expected to serve his full sentence. Finally, we added two more anarchists to our list of long-term prisoners, as the Chilean state prepares to prosecute Aldo and Lucas Hernandez – each facing decades in prison, having been held in pretrial detention since December 2022. With each new and continued attempt by the states of the world to enforce obedience to their oppressive programs, we too recognize an urgent desire for their destruction.

 

 

Each year, June 11th serves as a day for us to remember our longest imprisoned anarchist comrades through words, actions and ongoing material support.

Asian Anarchist Discussion Group (ARSON) – Rebel Peripheries: A Presentation by an Anarchist from the Philippines

Posted on 29/05/2025 by muntjac
Everyone invited! Please join us for an online presentation on June 6, 7 PM Pacific Time (June 6, 10 PM Eastern Time | June 7, 10 AM Asia/Manila Time | June 7, 12 PM Australian Eastern Time) by anarchist and researcher Simoun Magsalin. The presentation is on their recently published piece Rebel Peripheries, an exploration of anarchism in the peripheries of the Philippines, including a discussion on the Maoists. The piece culminates with the proposition of mamundok-in-place – an insurrectionary project that builds upon the ideas and analysis of rebel peripheries. The presentation will be held over Jitsi. There will be time for questions at the end.
Meeting link: https://meet.jit.si/moderated/3e8157cf0fe4f8985fc8c052a878bd09e5ab5ddf2d50682d825ed4a5748c2290
Article: https://muntjacmag.noblogs.org/archives/1224
Hosted by the Asian Anarchist Discussion Group (ARSON)

​

Tottenham Copwatch – Statement On Our Values And Organising Principles 

Posted on 27/05/2025 by muntjac

We are sharing this statement in solidarity with Tottenham Copwatch. In it they present a change for good in the trajectory of Copwatch Network affiliated projects in that they’re drawing a line in the sand to separate themselves from Career Activists and the  “Abolitionist” NGOs who work with the police.  Alongside this post on instagram Tottenham Copwatch wrote: 

 

“We are a community abolitionist group aiming to build local power and honour the history of abolitionist organising and resistance in Tottenham. We welcome all community members and there is no requirement to be an abolitionist, just a willingness to learn together.

 

However, we do not allow career ‘activists’ who want to further their own professional interests into our community spaces. We also do not collaborate with reformists who collaborate with the police. One example of this is the reformist non-profit @stopwatch_uk [https://linktr.ee/stopwatchuk]  who aim to ‘hold the police to account’ by working with them.

 

As a network we should organise around community and collective safety, ensuring our spaces remain conscious and ones of resistance.

 

We keep each other safe.”

 

Tottenham Copwatch – Statement On Our Values And Organising Principles 

 

Who – Who are we? 

Tottenham has a long history of local resistance against police and state violence by Black, racialised, migrant and working class people. We are a group of community members who aim to contribute to this power building, and honor the abolitionist organising and resistance that has come before us.

 

People – What is our positionality? 

We all have different experiences of police violence. Some of us are Black, brown, Gypsy/Roma/Traveller, LGBTQI+, working class, poor, part of religious communities, migrants, undocumented, houseless, refugees, trans, women, and/or disabled.

Beliefs – what are our core principles? 

We know that the police cannot be reformed. We want to completely defund and abolish all forms of policing, systems of control, and punishment.

 

The British state and its tools of control – police, prisons, borders, etc. Come from a long history of colonisation, dehumanisation and violent resource stealing all over the world.

 

We believe in coming together to dismantle these structures and support each other here in the belly of the beast learning and standing in solidarity with global anti-colonial movements.

 

We believe in solidarity, not charity. Charity divides us into people who give help and people who receive help, which maintains systems of power and oppression. We are non-hierarchical and aim to build connections, because we know how important it is to co-create long-term networks, learn together, help each other meet our needs, and fight collectively.

 

We are not separate from our local community, and we do this so that we can all be free.

Origins – Who are we right now? 

The copwatch network is formed of multiple autonomous local groups, many who see different iterations over time as members come and go. This Tottenham Copwatch formed after the brutal murder of Sarah Everard in March 2021 at the hands of a police officer. The statement is written by our current members in 2025.

 

Legacy – Organising in Tottenham 

1) The majority of our members are Black, brown, working class, mad/neurodivergent and disabled. We honor that we are organising in a place of historic resistance and community strength, and aim to put the material needs of the people in Tottenham first.

 

Our Members – Community resistance 

2) We organise with people who (want to) engage in resistance, Although we are an abolitionist group there is no requirement to be an abolitionist or to know what abolition is to come to meetings or join. We welcome all community members who are willing to learn and believe that political education (discussing/sharing awareness of the colonial oppression we face, and our collective power) is an important part of movement building.

 

3) We do not allow career ‘activists’ from NGOs, academics, or politicians who want to work with us to further their own professional interests.

We believe these individuals have a professional or academic position of power and access to resources, as well as an interest in taking knowledge from the grassroots. This is how they differ from a local community member of someone who hasn’t yet discovered abolition.

 

4) We also do not collaborate with or allow professional reformists, who collaborate with the police, into our community spaces. Reformist organisations are those that believe that changing the police is possible and work to ‘improve’ it. One example of this is the non-profit StopWatch who aim to ‘hold the police to account’ by working with them. We know that the police can never be reformed, and this is incompatible with our values.

 

How? How do we organise? 

5) We strongly believe in keeping each other as safe as possible, and we have structures in place to help us do this. We don’t make decisions or state our hard lines lightly.

 

Why? Why have we written this statement? 

6) We have been transparent with our Copwatch groups and the Copwatch network about why we think allowing reformists who collaborate with the police completely goes against abolitionist values and undermines the revolutionary spirit of abolitionist organising.

 

We believe the network should organise around and focus on community and collective safety, ensuring our spaces remain conscious and ones of resistance.

 

We keep eachother safe.

 

“Claim No False Victories: a Report Back From a (Failed) Deportation Defense”

Posted on 26/05/2025 by muntjac

Stolen from MBTA Distro, zine version avalible through them.

The following zine was anonymously submitted to the distro. It is, “analysis of an attempted deportation defense organized by the PSL in so-called Providence, RI, occupied Wampanoag and Narragansett land. It outlines a summary of what happened, how the PSL framed it, and why their framing is harmful to the movements to stop ICE and to stop deportations.”

[PRINT] // [READ]

The following is the text from the zine:

“Written April 2025 by an anarchist on occupied Wampanoag and Narragansett land, so-called ‘providence, rhode island’

I was one of a number of Providence community members who showed up to a mobilization called on Thursday, April 24 in response to ICE kidnapping a community member and tasing him. The tip came into AMOR’s ice hotline (+1 (401) 675-1414, add it to your contacts now and call with any suspected ICE activity!) and they and the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL) mobilized outside of the emergency department of Rhode Island hospital, where our neighbor was being held after being tased. Let me be clear: we lost that Thursday. We were unable to respond before our neighbor was in custody, before he got tased, we were unable to get him access to his attorney, and were subsequently unable to liberate him from ICE custody. We failed, and because of that, a community member is being held in the Wyatt. This is a loss worth feeling.
But you wouldn’t know that from the organizers. Instead of taking a moment to acknowledge the loss of another person to the horrors of the Wyatt or which ever concentration camp our neighbor now resides in, they celebrated that ICE had to sneak him out. You can confirm this for yourself; they proudly posted it to their instagram, their organizer speaking as if rallying us while trying to obfuscate their failure of organizing, followed, as always, by the next demo they wanted us at. This is not the behavior of an organization interested in winning, in keeping people out of ICE custody, in taking revolutionary action to protect our people. How did we get here?
First, there was no world where PSL’s tactics could have liberated our neighbor from that hospital. We were across the street, chanting while hospital vehicles drove by and police waited in their cruisers around the corners. I’ll give them this: the chants were good, and there was water, but I was the only medic and there was no jail support. The lack of contingency planning is unacceptable in moments where we need to be practicing and building capacity in order to build militancy. People have medical emergencies at the calmest of protests; police snatch people for doing nothing asfrequently as they do for allegedly breaking the law. Creating and practicing these supports allow us to a.) protect our people now and b.) know what to do when more militant action is necessary.
On Thursday, as that crowd cheered as we received the news that we’d “won”, I couldn’t help but think about who claiming this victory benefited. It wasn’t our neighbor, sitting in an ICE van or concentration camp without access to his lawyer, without his community, with stories of due process disappearing hanging over his head, his body bandaged from the wounds the state had already inflicted on him that day. It wasn’t the organizational structures we’re working to build; refusing to admit defeat means we can’t learn from our mistakes. It is not a moral failing to try an ineffective tactic, it’s a strategic one. It is, however, deeply reflective of the character and motivations of an organization to continue to select the same tactics again and again when there is no progress towards meeting our goals.
PSL has continued to prioritize forms of resistance that can be easily turned into social media posts that continue to build their notoriety and their membership. They post pictures of their meetings with people’s faces out, ready to be identified. They don’t wear masks at demonstrations (which would protect themselves from surveillance and their comrades from covid). They put information out quickly, sometimes before those on the ground outside of their leadership structure know it. Worse than this, they prioritize tactics that police the levels of risk participants are willing to take. How many stories have we heard of yellow-vested “marshals” (read: protest police) harassing and even occasionally assaulting the more militant elements of demonstration? How many more must we hear before we realize that they do not have our back and start treating them the same way we treat the pigs?
PSL treats protests like human petitions and opportunities to recruit; the tactic seems to be that by appealing to the lowest common denominator and doing the police’s job for them they can amass large number and let the will of the people be seen while bringing in new people. On thursday, I spoke with a member of PSL’s team after we were informed that ICE had removed our neighbor from the hospital. I asked him why we hadn’t tried to enter the hospital, why we had blocked any infrastructure. He responded that he and I might be down for risking or taking arrests to stop a deportation but we couldn’t be sure of everyone’s risk level. When asked how we win with the tactics being used, he responded that we had already won. A pit deepened in my stomach.
What use is demonstrating the will of the people whenit is already known? When our opponents are not only ignoring us, they welcome our actions as long as we don’t get rowdy enough to actually threaten whatever it is they’re up to? I am not advocating that people don’t show up to these deportation defenses orto PSL’s demonstrations; rather, show up ready and knowing that you need to handle your own jail support, bring your own medics, and know your own risk tolerance and capacity. Fuck a marshall. Fuck a permit. Fuck human petition tactics. If we want to stop deportations, citizens need to be willing to put our bodies on the line to do so. See y’all next time.

Further Reading on the PSL:
PSL is a high-control group with an ineffective strategy
rosegardendsa.substack.com/p/psl-is-a-high-control-group-with
Red Flags: Before You Join That Org
unsalted.noblogs.org/files/2024/06/RedFlagsWeb1.pdf
PSL Link Consolidation doc
docs.google.com/document/d/14wF1Ti5GT2w5GZmwqvhvk6uH4z
Ussa-B2GZ9NZEx74

Why I Left the PSL … or the DSA or Socialist Alternative or whatever
theanarchistlibrary.org/library/a-filler-kid-why-i-left-the-psl-or-
the-dsa-or-socialist-alternative-or-whatever

All these and more available at linktr.ee/pslflags
Want to do more than chant? Start here:
Defend the Territory: Tactics and Techniques for Countering Police Assaults on Indigenous Communities
warriorpublications.wordpress.com/defend-the-territory/
De-Arrest Primer
haters.noblogs.org/files/2024/04/DArr.pdf
Blockade, Occupy, Strike Back
dn790005.ca.archive.org/0/items/BlockadeOccupyStrikeBack/Blockade-Occupy-Strike-Back.pdf
10 Steps for Setting Up a Blockade
disruptnow.org/tactics-of-disruption/10-steps-for-setting-up-a-blockade-anonymous-n-d
Health and Safety at Militant Actions
files.sproutdistro.com/health_and_safety_militant_actions.pdf
We Are All Very Anxious
crimethinc.com/zines/we-are-all-very-anxious “

Sichuan Yibin: Workers demanding wages set fire to the factory

Posted on 23/05/2025 by muntjac
Stolen from: https://x.com/YesterdayBigcat/status/1925348019438067762 and machine translated.
「四川宜宾:讨薪工人怒烧工厂,网民一边倒支持工人(2025.05.20-22)」四川宜宾一名22岁纺织工人因工资被克扣,在讨薪无果后怒而放火点燃了工厂,引发持续三日的大火。 据多名网友爆料及现场目击者描述,5月20日中午11点,宜宾市屏山县锦裕纺织厂发生火灾,一名年轻男性工人在捅伤一名与厂主关系密切的财务人员后,放火点燃了工厂。知情网友称,该名工人此前因辞职未获批准、工资被无故克扣800元,在多次讨薪未果后,他情绪失控,最终选择以极端方式抗议。还有网友指出,该财务为厂主亲戚,行为蛮横,导致矛盾激化。 “一个工人辞职不干了,扣了他800块,要了几次都没有给他,所以这个人放火。” “不欠工资但是要扣钱为啥扣因为财务是厂里的关系户。” “听说扣了800块钱被员工放火烧了一个厂。” “听说是人为的,为了800块钱工资,老板不给给打人,一气之下点燃了工厂,不知道是真的假的。” “大,被火烧的是二车间,和三车间,只有一车间,没有被烧。” “宜宾纺织厂,一个22岁小伙没要到工资,把厂给点着了我在看新闻。人一旦没了软肋,什么都不会怕。” “昨天中午十一点燃烧的,现在还在燃烧。” “老板被捅了一刀。” “乱说,是财务被捅。” 事发后,事件在中国的社交平台上得到了广泛的传播,舆论也一边倒支持涉事工人,称他是英雄,认为他的行为是“打工人的怒火”。 “这是人民的怒火。” “工人的怒火。” “人民英雄” 、“人民的力量是光亮的。” “那兄弟实现了很多人心中的怒火,致敬。” “他是觉醒的无畏者的象征。” “燃烧自己,照亮他人。” “小伙子是真的勇敢,值得学习。” “为他点赞!” “我只关心,英雄怎么样了。” 同时,锦裕纺织厂老板成为众矢之的。网友普遍认为,事件虽有极端成分,但根源在于企业压榨工人、克扣工资、态度蛮横。有评论写道:“给所有无良老板上了一课”。还有人讽刺:“老板这次终于体会到打工人失去800块的滋味了。”还有网友指出,此类劳动纠纷和维权困难并非孤例,而是底层工人长期承受的普遍压迫。 “老板这次终于体会到打工人失去800块的滋味了吧” “干得漂亮, 对付黑心老板就得这样” “虽然被揍了个厂,但是老板实打实的节省了800工资” “欺负打工人,欺负习惯了。赔家给他来点教训” “没良心的资本家就该死里干” “老板这次终于体会到打工人失去800块的滋味了是吧” “给拖欠工资的老板们,上了一堂生动现实的课。” “我想把这个视频发给我老板看” “800块钱工资,老板直接破产。工人要考老板上了一课” “应该是给全国工厂的老板上了一课” 网友还认为,底层人活的太艰难,800元钱对老板来说只是一瓶酒钱,但对底层劳动者来说可能就是底线。 “800块钱对于一个老板来说九牛一毛都算不上,但是对于一个打工者来说可能就是他的底线!” “800元钱是不多,但是,身无分文的时,就是救命钱,能吃半个月的生活。” “有没有人相信,800块钱是我一个月的生活费,现在的钱不好赚” “几百块钱,说起不多,但是对于普通家庭可以办很多事了” “对某些人来说只是几百块钱,对于人家来说已经是抗压底线了 这里没有赢家” “800块钱可能就是老板一瓶酒钱,对很多底层人来说确是一个月的生活费,有了这800就能活下去。” “800块也是救命钱” 除声援外,许多网友还表示愿意为工人家属捐款、筹资请律师。 “如果小伙英雄公开个帐号,我再穷也愿意支援三五百” “真的值的众筹,他的光照耀了所有打工人” “如果小伙家人需要帮助,我加入一个” “我们穷人要搞个基金会,凡是为了维权而光荣的,按大小发放工资扶持家人。” “给他人捐款请律师,我出100” “给这个家捐款,是她的行动照亮了所有人” “刚刚刷到,评论区好多人说,捐款给小伙的父母,为我们撑起了一片光明。” “如果小伙英雄公开个帐号,我再穷也愿意支援三五百” “大哥要人出来,我也给他捐款,捐钱就应该花在这种地方!为本人抱薪者,不可使其冻毙于风雪!” “还是希望哥们的父母可以出来,大家每人捐一点,让二老养老。” “我给小伙子捐300,因为我曾经也被压榨过,包括现在,2个月绩效没发了!” “我给小伙子捐1000,他是打工人的榜样” “我捐一百给敢作为小伙子集资!” “我给他捐3000” “需要捐款的时候麻烦艾特我一声,微薄之力” “能给小伙子捐款不?我个人出500” “我的梦想就是想见一下一啊,放火的这个兄弟,想给他转500块钱” “问一下咋给小伙子捐款呀?” “为众人抱薪者,不可使其冻毙于风雪” 这起事件像一根导火索,点燃了无数人的共鸣与愤怒。底层劳动者的苦难被长期漠视,活得步步维艰,人们似乎都在等待那个引发改变的临界点。

 

“Sichuan Yibin: Workers demanding wages set fire to the factory, netizens overwhelmingly support the workers (2025.05.20-22)” A 22-year-old textile worker in Yibin, Sichuan, was angry about his wages being withheld. After failing to demand his wages, he set fire to the factory, causing a fire that lasted for three days.

 

According to reports from multiple netizens and eyewitnesses, a fire broke out at Jinyu Textile Factory in Pingshan County, Yibin City at 11:00 a.m. on May 20. A young male worker stabbed a financial officer who was closely related to the factory owner and then set the factory on fire. Informed netizens said that the worker had previously been deducted 800 yuan from his salary for no reason because his resignation was not approved. After many unsuccessful attempts to get his salary, he lost control of his emotions and finally chose to protest in an extreme way. Other netizens pointed out that the financial officer was a relative of the factory owner and his arrogant behavior led to the intensification of the conflict.

 

“A worker quit his job and was deducted 800 yuan from his salary. He asked for it several times but was not given the money, so this person set the fire.”

“We don’t owe you any wages, but they are still deducting money 😼 Why? Because the finance department is a relative of the factory.”

“I heard that a factory was set on fire by employees because 800 yuan was deducted.”

“I heard it was man-made. The boss beat someone up because he didn’t pay him 800 yuan in salary, so he set the factory on fire in a rage. I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

“It’s big. The ones that were burned were Workshop 2 and Workshop 3. Only Workshop 1 was not burned.”

“In Yibin Textile Factory, a 22-year-old boy set the factory on fire after he failed to get his salary 🤣🤣🤣 I was watching the news. Once a person loses his weaknesses, he will not be afraid of anything 😭 .”

“It started burning at 11 o’clock yesterday and it’s still burning now.”

“The boss got stabbed.”

“Nonsense, the finance department was stabbed.”

 

After the incident, the incident was widely circulated on Chinese social platforms, and public opinion overwhelmingly supported the worker involved, calling him a hero and believing that his behavior represented the “anger of workers.”

 

“This is the anger of the people.”

“Workers’ anger.”

“People’s Hero”

” “The power of the people is bright 👍👍👍👍👍 .”

“That brother fulfilled the anger in many people’s hearts. Salute 🔥 .”

“He is the symbol of the awakened fearless.”

“Burn yourself to light up others 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 .”

“The young man is really brave and worth learning from.”

“Like him 👍 !”

“I only care about how the hero is doing.”

 

At the same time, the boss of Jinyu Textile Factory became the target of public criticism. Netizens generally believed that although the incident was extreme, the root cause was the company’s exploitation of workers, withholding of wages, and arrogant attitude. One comment wrote: “This is a lesson for all unscrupulous bosses.” Another person sarcastically said: “The boss finally experienced the feeling of losing 800 yuan for the workers.” Other netizens pointed out that such labor disputes and difficulties in defending rights are not isolated cases, but a common oppression that grassroots workers have endured for a long time.

 

“The boss finally understood how it feels to lose 800 yuan this time.”

“Well done, this is how you deal with a shady boss”

“Although the factory was beaten, the boss actually saved 800 yuan in wages.”

“He bullies the workers. He is used to it. Let’s teach him a lesson.”

“Capitalists without conscience deserve to die”

“The boss finally understood how it feels to lose 800 yuan, right?”

“It is a vivid and realistic lesson for the bosses who owe wages.”

“I want to send this video to my boss”

“With a salary of 800 yuan, the boss went bankrupt. The workers wanted to test the boss and learned a lesson.”

“This should be a lesson for factory owners across the country.”

 

Netizens also believe that life is too difficult for people at the bottom of society. 800 yuan is just the price of a bottle of wine for the boss, but it may be the bottom line for the bottom-level workers.

 

“800 yuan is nothing to a boss, but it may be his bottom line for a worker!”

“800 yuan is not a lot of money, but when you are penniless, it is life-saving money and can support you for half a month.”

“Does anyone believe that 800 yuan is my monthly living expenses? Money is hard to earn nowadays.”

“A few hundred dollars may not seem like much, but it can do a lot for an average family.”

“For some people, it’s just a few hundred dollars, but for others, it’s their bottom line. There are no winners here.”

“800 yuan might be the price of a bottle of wine for the boss, but for many people at the bottom of society, it is a month’s living expenses. With this 800 yuan, they can survive.”

“800 yuan is also life-saving money”

 

In addition to expressing support, many netizens also expressed their willingness to donate money to the workers’ families and raise funds to hire lawyers.

 

“If the young hero makes his account public, I will be willing to support him with three or five hundred yuan even if I am poor 👍 ”

“It is really worth the crowdfunding. His light shines on all the workers 👍👍👍👍👍👍 ”

“If the boy’s family needs help, I will join one”

“We poor people should set up a foundation to pay salaries to those who have done honorable things for their rights to support their families. 🤏 ”

“Donate to others to hire a lawyer, I will pay 100 💯💯💯 ”

“Donate to this family, her actions illuminate everyone”

“I just saw a lot of comments saying that donating to the boy’s parents has given us a chance to see the light.”

“If the young hero makes his account public, I will be willing to support him with three or five hundred yuan even if I am poor 👍 ”

“Brother wants people to come out, and I will donate money to him. Donated money should be spent on places like this! Those who carry firewood for me should not be allowed to freeze to death in the snow!”

“I still hope that my buddy’s parents can come out and everyone can donate a little to help them through their retirement.”

“I donated 300 yuan to the young man because I have also been exploited before, including now, I haven’t received my performance bonus for two months!”

“I donated 1,000 yuan to the young man. He is a role model for workers.”

“I will donate 100 yuan to the young man who dares to raise funds! 🤣 ”

“I donated 3,000 to him 👍 ”

“If you need donations, please let me know. It’s just a small contribution.”

“Can you donate to the young man? I’ll personally give 500.”

“My dream is to meet the brother who set the fire and transfer 500 yuan to him.”

“Excuse me, how can I donate to the young man?”

“Those who carry firewood for others should not be allowed to freeze to death in the snow and wind.”

 

This incident was like a fuse, igniting the resonance and anger of countless people. The suffering of the lower-class workers has been ignored for a long time, and their lives are difficult. People seem to be waiting for the critical point that will trigger change.

Leroy Maisiri – Zimbabwe: Why does the state persist when its outputs are poverty, violence and humiliation

Posted on 22/05/2025 by muntjac

Stolen from: https://mg.co.za/thought-leader/2025-04-22-zimbabwe-why-does-the-state-persist-when-its-outputs-are-poverty-violence-and-humiliation/

As Zimbabwe commemorates 45 years of independence, the spectacle of celebration  orchestrated by President Emmerson Mnangagwa in a dilapidated and waterlogged stadium serves as a metaphor for the trajectory of the postcolonial state.

The accumulation of rainwater in the cracks of this Midlands venue epitomises not only infrastructural decay but also the consequential runoff from four-and-a-half decades marked by systemic looting, incompetence and the calculated erosion of collective dignity. The pertinent inquiry is not whether Zimbabwe possesses legitimate grounds for celebration; rather, it is to interrogate why the apparatus of the state continues to persist when its predominant outputs are poverty, violence and humiliation.

Zimbabwe’s independence in 1980 was heralded as an epoch of self-determination and prosperity. Contrary to these aspirations, Zanu-PF supplanted colonial exploitation with a locally entrenched kleptocracy. Institutions such as the Sally Mugabe Hospital have devolved into necropolitical spaces where women tragically bleed out because of a lack of water and medical supplies, while state resources are siphoned into Mnangagwa’s patronage networks. The World Food Programme’s alarming estimate that six million Zimbabweans endure food insecurity must be recognised not merely as a consequence of mismanagement but as a direct outcome of state policy. The assertion that the state fails in its roles is profoundly misleading; it operates effectively to fulfill its true mandate: the concentration of power and wealth.

The catastrophic economic trajectory that Zimbabwe has traversed since independence is illustrated by the disintegration of its monetary system. This phenomenon reflects not merely a series of policy miscalculations but rather the systemic rot inherent in a predatory state. In 1980, the newly sovereign nation inherited a currency, the Zimbabwean dollar (ZWD) that was not only stronger than the US dollar but also pegged at parity with the British pound. But, within a mere two decades, this currency imploded, suffering a staggering 70% depreciation by 1997. This early collapse was exacerbated by the neoliberal Economic Structural Adjustment Programme, which, while apparently designed to liberalise the economy, functioned instead as a vehicle for elite accumulation, stripping public assets and entrenching inequality without fostering meaningful economic growth.

Subsequent decades have witnessed Zimbabwe’s monetary system devolving into a farcical series of failed experiments: from hyperinflationary versions of the Zimbabwean dollar to improvised monetary instruments, such as traveller’s cheques, bearer cheques, and bond notes. Each iteration has further undermined public trust. The introduction of Real-Time Gross Settlement dollars and the 2019 reintroduction of the Zimbabwean dollar have only deepened the crisis, as the state’s compulsive money-printing and lack of fiscal discipline transformed each new currency into a temporary placeholder for value rather than a stable medium of exchange. Furthermore, quasi-currency systems such as EcoCash and Zipit have emerged as desperate makeshift solutions, underscoring the collapse of formal monetary authority.

This relentless churn of currencies more than a dozen in 15 years exposes  fundamental truth: a national currency is not merely a technical instrument; it embodies a social contract, a collective confidence in the issuing authority. Zimbabwe’s monetary chaos signifies a total breakdown of that contract, as the state’s kleptocratic inclinations and its refusal to relinquish control over seigniorage revenue (the profit derived from the creation of money) have transformed currency into a mechanism for extraction rather than economic facilitation. The bastardisation of foreign currencies, such as the US dollar and the South African rand, which were once adopted as lifelines during hyperinflation, further exemplifies how state failures have forced citizens into informal, decentralised survival strategies.

This monetary unravelling is emblematic of a broader centralisation of power that monopolises economic life. The state’s insistence on maintaining control over currency, despite its repeated failures, mirrors its overarching control over land, resources and political agency, even as it engenders ruin.

In stark contrast, grassroots initiatives such as dollarisation and mobile money systems reveal the feasibility of stateless alternatives, wherein trust is negotiated horizontally rather than imposed by fiat. Thus, Zimbabwe’s currency crisis transcends a mere case study in mismanagement; it encapsulates the postcolonial state’s enduring struggle to transcend its colonial legacy as an extractive institution.

The solution lies not in the introduction of another state-issued currency but in the dismantlement of the monopoly over monetary power, advocating for radical decentralisation that aligns with anarchist ideals of voluntary, mutualistic exchange.

The assemblies at Mnangagwa’s rallies are not indicative of grassroots support; rather, they reflect an engineered desperation. When unemployment soars to 95% and inflation renders currency functionally meaningless, a handout of chicken and chips morphs into a coercive contract: endure the spectacle of one’s own degradation for the sake of sustenance. This scenario is not governance; it exemplifies a protection racket masquerading as political engagement. The colonial racist ghost of Ian Smith, whose prophetic assertion of decay under Zanu-PF has been illustrated, haunts these gatherings, not due to its accuracy, but because the nationalist state has assimilated and perfected the colonial logic of resource extraction.

The solution is not another election, another party or another strongman. The Zimbabwean state is a corpse that refuses to decompose, and no amount of reform will resurrect it into something benevolent. Logic demands we confront the reality that centralised power whether colonial or “liberationist” is inherently predatory. Yet even under such oppressive pressure the solution, like a flower budding through concrete, the alternatives already flicker in the margins.

We see autonomous mutual aid, where the state abandons hospitals and clinics run by community collectives (such as those seen in Chitungwiza during cholera outbreaks), proving that survival happens despite the state, not because of it. We have seen land and food sovereignty where the state’s land grabs destroyed productivity, but occupied farms reclaimed by agrarian cooperatives outside Zanu-PF’s crony distribution could this restore subsistence autonomy? One can only hope.

Forty-five years of independence have proven that the state is not the vehicle of liberation but its antithesis. Zimbabwe’s suffering is not a result of “bad leaders” but of the very idea that liberation comes from above.

The rain flooding Mnangagwa’s stadium is a fitting emblem: the state cannot even build drains, yet it demands absolute sovereignty over lives it has no interest  in sustaining. True independence begins when Zimbabweans stop asking the state for solutions and start recognising it as the problem.

Leroy Maisiri is a researcher and educator focused on labour, social movements and emancipatory politics in Southern Africa, with teaching and publishing experience in sociology and political theory.

Leroy Maisiri – Burkina Faso: Revolution, authoritarianism and the crisis of African emancipation politics

Posted on 22/05/2025 by muntjac

Stolen from: https://mg.co.za/thought-leader/2025-05-08-burkina-faso-revolution-authoritarianism-and-the-crisis-of-african-emancipation-politics/

There was a time when Robert Mugabe stood as the towering figure of African liberation. Raised fists, Pan-Africanist banners, and chants of self-rule marked Zimbabwe’s emergence from white settler colonialism. Mugabe, like many of his generation, represented the victory of the oppressed against imperial domination. But history, with its ruthless clarity, would later mark him not only as a liberator but as an authoritarian. His early heroism curdled into repression, corruption, and the suffocation of dissent.

This trajectory is not unique to Mugabe, nor to Zimbabwe. Across the African continent, a grim pattern repeats itself: liberation movements, once anchored in popular struggle and dreams of self-determination, morph into bureaucratic, militarised and often repressive regimes.

Today, a new face of revolution is emerging in Burkina Faso under the youthful and charismatic Captain Ibrahim Traoré. His image is cast in the mould of Thomas Sankara, evoking the anti-imperialist spirit of the 1980s, and his language is resolute: “This is not a democracy. This is a revolution.”

But what kind of revolution dismisses democracy? What are we to make of yet another seizure of power by men in uniform, claiming to act on behalf of the people? If history is to be our teacher, then we must ask: can a revolution built on authoritarian foundations ever birth true liberation? Or are we merely witnessing the replay of a tragic cycle in which the people are always betrayed?

In answering this, anarchist theory offers a sobering and necessary critique, particularly the principle of “prefiguration”. Loosely this means what we want our society to become in the future is literally shaped by what we do today. Therefore the means to transform society and used to achieve liberation must reflect the liberated society we seek to build. Dictatorship in the name of the people is not a contradiction; it is a betrayal.

Africa’s liberation paradox

In 1980, Mugabe took the reins of an independent Zimbabwe amid jubilation. A fierce critic of apartheid South Africa and a stalwart of African nationalism, Mugabe embodied the hopes of a continent still shaking off colonial chains. His government expanded access to education and health, undertook land redistribution (albeit slowly at first), and positioned Zimbabwe as a regional beacon.

Yet beneath the surface of national pride lurked the seeds of authoritarian rule. The Gukurahundi massacres in Matabeleland state-directed violence that left thousands dead was the first major crack in the façade. By the 1990s and 2000s, the promise had largely faded. Economic mismanagement, systematic attacks on the opposition, the use of war veterans as enforcers and rigged elections turned Zimbabwe into a cautionary tale. Mugabe had become the very figure he once fought against: a ruler deaf to the cries of his people.

What went wrong? The problem was not merely Mugabe’s personality or age, but a structural one: a centralised, hierarchical, militarised politics that concentrated power in the hands of a few. The masses, once mobilised for liberation, were now reduced to spectators of state-led nationalism. The logic of domination, inherited from colonial rule, remained intact.

The African continent is filled with liberation leaders who later ossified into authoritarian rulers. In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Laurent-Désiré Kabila rose to power after deposing the infamous Mobutu Sese Seko. Hailed as a reformer, he quickly silenced dissent, suspended democratic institutions, and entrenched cronyism.

In Eritrea, Isaias Afwerki’s led the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF) to independence from Ethiopia in 1993, since then the government has abolished elections, outlawed dissent, and turned the country into a prison state. In Uganda, Yoweri Museveni, once a progressive voice with an ambitious reform agenda who came into power in 1986 after a guerrilla war, promising to end dictatorship and restore democracy has clung to power for decades, repressing opposition and manipulating constitutional term limits.

What binds these cases is not simply the betrayal of early ideals but the structure of the revolutionary movements themselves: the dominance of military actors, the centralisation of decision-making and the erasure of grassroots democratic input. Liberation became a state project, not a people’s movement. The result was not freedom but domination by a different set of elites.

Ibrahim Traoré and the Burkina Faso moment

It is in this historical context that we must understand the rise of Ibrahim Traoré in Burkina Faso. In September 2022, Traoré seized power from a fellow military officer, citing the government’s failure to contain jihadist violence and its lingering ties to French neocolonial interests. Young, fiery and armed with Pan-African rhetoric, Traoré has been embraced by many across Africa as a new kind of revolutionary. His speeches decry imperialism, his posture rejects Western control and his persona taps into the Sankarist legacy.

Yet, there are reasons to be deeply cautious. Traoré has suspended the Constitution, dissolved the National Assembly and postponed elections indefinitely. Civil society participation is tightly controlled. Criticism is increasingly silenced under the banner of national unity. Most tellingly, Traoré himself has declared that this is not a democracy but a revolution.

Here lies the central contradiction. A revolution that excludes participatory, horizontal and people-driven democracy is not a revolution of liberation, but of substitution. The people are once again sidelined, replaced by uniforms and commands.

The alternative: Prefiguration and the case of Nestor Makhno

So one must then wonder whether a democratic revolution is even possible and, if yes, can we point to an example? The example must not only be historically true but must also reject the logic of the “ends justify the means” that has plagued so many revolutionary movements.

The example must embody the concept of prefiguration, by developing the type of ideas and social structures today that mirror the tomorrow we want.  There existed a man by the name of Nestor Makhno who led the Revolutionary Insurgent Army of Ukraine during the early 20th century. Operating during the Russian Civil War, Makhno led a peasant-based movement that resisted both the White counter-revolution and the authoritarian Bolsheviks. Central to the Makhnovist approach was the creation of workers’ and peasants’ councils, assemblies where decisions were made collectively and leaders were subject to immediate recall. The army itself functioned democratically, with elected commanders and decisions made in open discussion.

Makhno’s movement was not perfect, but it represented a rare experiment in what a truly self-managed, bottom-up revolution could look like. Its core lesson was that real freedom is impossible without democratic participation at every level of struggle. Militarised command structures cannot give birth to emancipatory societies; instead they reproduce the hierarchies they claim to oppose.

If Africa’s revolutions are to avoid the fate of betrayal, they must reject the authoritarian path. This means dismantling the idea that a small revolutionary elite or a military junta can deliver freedom on behalf of the people. The people must deliver it themselves.

This requires building structures of direct democracy, participatory budgeting, local councils, community assemblies, federations of self-organised movements. It means breaking from both Western liberal democracy, with its elite-controlled institutions, and from nationalist authoritarianism, with its strongmen and military decrees.

It means recognising that a revolution that begins by silencing voices will end by crushing them. In Burkina Faso, the revolutionary moment is still young. There is still time to reshape its path toward radical democracy rather than dictatorship with a populist face. But that will require more than speeches; it will require giving the people power not just in rhetoric, but in practice.

History has been a graveyard of failed liberations. But it doesn’t have to be. If we take seriously the anarchist principle that the means must reflect the ends, we can begin to imagine a politics that does not reproduce hierarchy but dismantles it. A politics that is not merely anti-imperialist, but anti-authoritarian. A revolution that is not a replacement of rulers, but the abolition of rule itself.

This article in no way is against the anti-imperialist/anti-colonialist stance of Burkina Faso nor is it a personal critique of the Capitan, rather it argues for all progressive forces to truly self-reflect on the type of liberation we want on the continent. Liberation cannot be delivered from above. It must be built from below, and it must begin now.

Leroy Maisiri is a researcher and educator focused on labour, social movements and emancipatory politics in Southern Africa, with teaching and publishing experience in industrial economic sociology.

Anon – Whither Black Anarchism? : An Anarchist Critique of Contemporary Black Anarchist Culture in the United States

Posted on 13/05/2025 - 13/05/2025 by muntjac

Part of Muntjac Issue 2. 

[A4 PDF] [US-Letter PDF]

Note: This is a self critique and a critique of communities I’ve been a part of my entire adult life. It was very hard to write especially in a moment where it feels like anarchist activity is low but revolutionaries have to remain honest especially in these perilous times. I speak about Black anarchists cause those are the people I spend most of my time around however many of these critiques could be extended to Non-Black POC and Indigenous anarchist tendencies as well.

 

It is unclear if Black anarchism matters. Despite those who would say to the contrary, Black anarchism is not a primary vehicle actively pursuing the short term goal of destruction of the United States and the longer term goal of social revolution. Despite the rise of podcasts, social media accounts, publications, zines, articles, Black anarchist organizing projects remain sparse. To the authors’ knowledge, Martin Sostre House (a social center/housing collective), Balagoon Boxing Gym (unclear if this project is still active), Black Autonomy Federation-LA, Black Autonomy Federation-Chicago (unclear if this project is still active) and Black Lantern Book (a bookstore) are the only projects that exist in the United States with a clear commitment to Black anarchist politics. It should be acknowledged that some projects and affinities must remain clandestine but regardless of that, it remains a relatively poor showing for a tendency that has existed for decades at this point.

 

Despite the constant Black anarchist critique of white anarchist subculture as ineffectual or disconnected in texts such as Black Anarchism and the Black Radical Tradition published by Daraja Press, Black anarchists themselves have failed largely to organize amongst themselves let alone amongst Black people. This is a failure. If all Black anarchists can offer is zines and critique, they are no better than white leftists who stick their heads in books all day. While it is easy to blame white anarchists, Black anarchists refuse to look to their own failures. If there’s a true belief that white anarchists or authoritarian socialists are as fascist or counter revolutionary as some proclaim, then why are they not being organized against? Why are they not being robbed or beaten? If the Black leftists and the non-profits are such a threat to our movements, why are they not being robbed or beaten? The threats are all rhetorical. Instead, Black anarchists act like liberals as they demand reparations/accountability from white radicals.The unfortunate truth is that Black anarchism as a tendency in the United States is still rooted unfortunately in a politics of victim-hood rather than agency.

 

Furthermore, Black anarchism is going the way of the non-profit industrial complex or academia as more books, articles and lectures are published. Numerous opportunists see Black anarchism as a way to make a quick buck so they build their personal brands around it. I’m not gonna name names cause it’s actually so common though at this point, the only Black anarchists I trust are the ones who publish anonymously. These “black anarchist” personalities are no different than enemies like Patrisse Cullors or Opal Tometi from BLM. Black anarchism no longer exists in a subversive sense. And perhaps, it never did (although Lorenzo, Ashanti and Kuwasi’s brave actions certainly must be acknowledged). Anarchism is fundamentally a set of practices that revolutionaries use to pursue revolution. But if the anarchists in question are not building towards any type of revolution or insurrection, then the practices make little to no sense as they are not being practically applied. Again, I ask myself how are Black anarchists any different from many white radicals who simply read books and make critiques while refusing to get their hands dirty alongside the oppressed and exploited? Podcasts, memes, edgy twitter threads, cookouts, patreon accounts, and gofundmes are not an organizational orientation that is compatible with a revolutionary anarchist set of politics. Platitudes, complaints, hanging out and slogans are not substitutes for action. Idealizing anarchist movements in other places and posting riot footage is not a substitute for action here. And unfortunately, there is quite little action from Black anarchists these day. But there’s a whole lot of tweets.

 

Despite anarchist critiques of the following formations, the Black Panthers, the Black Liberation Army, the Black Guards, RAM, various New Afrikan formations, the Black Unity Council, Black Guerilla Family and others had an organizational orientation that built towards revolutionary struggle. There is nothing equivalent to that in the United States in terms of Black anarchists. Instead of a movement that organizes, there is a rampant culture of individualism (not the cool kind either), complaint, cowardice, and opportunism. The refusal of Black anarchists to organize and provide alternatives to all of the things they hate is proof of a weakness that is rooted in a racist self hatred, inferiority and victim-hood mentality that is inherited/taught by the legacy of from slavery and its afterlives…the non-profit industrial complex, academia, racist public schools, and prisons.

 

The abandoning of our political prisoners is evidence of this racist self-hatred as well. Big names in Black anarchism do nothing to uplift and support the various Black prisoners of the George Floyd uprising such as Malik Muhammad or Mujera Benjamin Lunga’ho. While Black anarchists make constant claim of revolutionary politics, there is little to no support for Black revolutionaries in prison. Perhaps it is because many Black anarchists are simply subcultural scenesters scared of the real revolutionaries who have sacrificed their freedom and ended up on the inside of the enemy’s prison? Or perhaps many Black anarchists are so divorced from real struggle that they have no knowledge that some Black people have taken real risks for our movement while they complain about crackers online? Perhaps it is because Black anarchism similar to the white anarchists they constantly set ourselves up in opposition to remains a petit-bourgeois tendency that cares little for the struggles of the lumpen-proletariat? I don’t have a clear answer. I know that’s not the case for me and my comrades but we are few and far between in the existing Black anarchist tendency. And it makes me wonder, what is the point of any of this? Shouldn’t we just be anarchists?

 

Maybe to find revolutionary organizing efforts oriented towards Black liberation (albeit imperfect), it is better to look to some of the Black nationalist groups such as Community Movement Builders, Cooperation Jackson, Huey P. Newton Gun Club, Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, Black Men Build and others. These groups despite their contradictions are making efforts to build a Black revolutionary trajectory albeit one that I am largely uninterested in personally. Doubtless some readers will admonish me for referencing these groups due to their political failings but the reality is that these groups are at least attempting to building capacity while many Black anarchists remain inactive or adjacent to ineffectual white anarchist subculture. These spaces may be contested perhaps while the Black anarchist spaces themselves do not seem to exist besides the projects mentioned earlier.

The author believes these questions must be asked because the current culture around “Black anarchic radicalism” as some call it is not a revolutionary culture. It is a culture largely for those with proximity to white anarchists, the Black left or the non-profit industrial complex to voice their frustrations and then sit at home. There is no revolutionary horizon with this current trajectory. Critique is not a stand in for attack. Critique is not a stand in for organization. Critique is not a stand in for capacity. Critique is not a stand in for affinity. Critiques only hold weight if there is a desire and effort to out-organize the enemies or even comrades you are critiquing, otherwise your politics hold no weight.

 

Black anarchists should tweet less and attack more. I no longer feel committed to the Black anarchist project. Instead, I remain simply an anarchist with a desire for Black liberation. Various anarchists I know (regardless of their apparent to Black anarchism as an ideology) are more committed to these struggles than most self identified Black anarchists. Political identity especially when it comes to race can only go so far. Black anarchism remains mired in the muck of opportunism, inferiority, self hatred and cowardice. Until Black anarchists commit to a politics of comradeship, bravery, experimentation, and love of other Black people, it is unlikely I will rejoin the tendency. I learned my anarchism from the Black anarchist theorists but I cannot willingly remain a part of a tendency that has done so little for ourselves let alone the broader Black struggle. Black anarchism was meant to be a weapon to be wielded for Black liberation. If the current Black anarchist culture in the United States is the example, it is a faulty weapon that would backfire and kill me.

My comrades who I remain most inspired by take inspiration from many other tendencies other than just Black anarchism. While understanding the importance of our historical legacy from Black anarchist elders, my comrades politics are much more grounded in different strains such as insurrectionary anarchism, Islam, Black nationalism, nihilism, and queer militancy. These things seem like better jumping off points for building a revolutionary culture than Black anarchism even if some of them contradict one another as these origin points are a set of politics not built entirely on complaint as Black anarchism seems to be. Anarchy pulls from many different strains, the insistence on Black anarchism or an anarchism that is non-white is uninteresting as it is simply reactive. So I think for the moment, anarchy will just have to suffice.

Anonymous Submission, if this article made you feel some kinda way, consider writing a reply to it… (or better yet, go do some cool shit and mention you’re a Black anarchist in the reportback)

1 Comment

Patrick Jonathan Derilus – the BLA greets Rodney Hinton Jr.

Posted on 09/05/2025 - 13/05/2025 by muntjac

You can find more from the author here: https://pjd1.medium.com/ 

Write a letter.

Full name: Hinton, Rodney
Control Number: 2705475
Securus ID: 27054750810
Housing Location : OUT-CLRMT-COUNT-1-001

 

Zhachev – They Who Returned to the Rock

Posted on 02/05/2025 - 05/05/2025 by muntjac

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

In approximately 312 BCE, a former general of the late Alexander the Great, King Antigonus I Monophthalmos launched an effort to conquer the Nabataean people. The Nabataeans were a proto-Arab group, in many ways the proto-Arab group, who had for centuries inhabited the deserts of Syria and the Levant, particularly what is today southern Jordan. Known for their nomadic lifestyle, control of important trade routes, and illusive nature, they were a very significant cultural, economic, and political force in the region during the era.

The Nabataeans were not a people who hastily conducted warfare. While it is true that they generally avoided direct confrontation, they did excel at a lethal kind of proto-guerrilla warfare with cunning strategies, leveraging their knowledge of the desert terrain and the resources of their extensive trade networks to outclass and outmaneuver their opponents. Their military engagements were often characterized as defensive in nature, reflecting a preference for avoiding open battles and instead exploiting the strategic advantages offered by their environment to gain tactical victories.

During the classical campaign of King Antigonus I against these desert free men, the Nabataeans, who controlled the vast flow of spice and incense throughout the whole of the ancient and classical world, noteworthy historical figures were involved. There was Demetrius, son of Antigonus I, the failure and war criminal Athenaeus, a general of Antigonus I, and Hieronymus of Cardia, a famous Hellenic historian. The chronicle of Hieronymus regarding these events was later incorporated through its surviving fragments into the writings of the Hellenic historian Diodorus of Sicily. Specifically, a work by Diodorus entitled Library of World History, sec. 19.94.2-95.2, which provides a fascinating account of Nabataean customs. Here’s a translation by C.H. Oldfather:

“For the sake of those who do not know, it will be useful to state in some detail the customs of these Arabs (Ἀράβιοι), by following which, it is believed, they preserve their liberty.

They live in the open air, claiming as native land a wilderness that has neither rivers nor abundant springs from which it is possible for a hostile army to obtain water. It is their custom neither to plant grain, set out any fruit-bearing tree, use wine, nor construct any house; and if anyone is found acting contrary to this, death is his penalty [author emphasis]. They follow this custom because they believe that those who possess these things are, in order to retain the use of them, easily compelled by the powerful to do their Bidding.

Some of them raise dromedaries, others sheep, pasturing them in the desert. While there are many Arab tribes who use the desert as pasture, the Nabataeans far surpass the others in wealth although they are not much more than ten thousand in number; for not a few of them are accustomed to bring down to the sea frankincense and myrrh and the most valuable kinds of spices, which they procure from those who convey them from what is called Arabia Eudaemon.

They are exceptionally fond of freedom [author emphasis]; and, whenever a strong force of enemies comes near, they take refuge in the desert, using this as a fortress; for it lacks water and cannot be crossed by others, but to them alone, since they have prepared subterranean reservoirs lined with stucco, it furnishes safety. As the earth in some places is clayey and in others is of soft stone, they make great excavations in it, the mouths of which they make very small, but by constantly increasing the width as they dig deeper, they finally make them of such size that each side has a length of one plethrum (30-33 meters). After filling these reservoirs with rain water, they close the openings, making them even with the rest of the ground, and they leave signs that are known to them-selves but are unrecognizable by others. They water their cattle every other day, so that, if they flee through waterless places, they may not need a continuous supply of water.

They themselves use as food flesh and milk and those of the plants that grow from the ground which are suitable for this purpose; for among them there grow the pepper and plenty of the so-called wild honey from trees, which they drink mixed with water. There are also other tribes of Arabs, some of whom even till the soil, mingling with the tribute-paying peoples, and have the same customs as the Syrians, except that they do not dwell in houses.

It appears that such are the customs of the Arabs. But when the time draws near for the national gathering at which those who dwell round about are accustomed to meet, some to sell goods and others to purchase things that are needful to them, they travel to this meeting, leaving on a certain rock their possessions and their old men, also their women and their children. This place is exceedingly strong but unwalled, and it is distant two days’ journey from the settled country.”

We cannot be sure if this Hellenic account and perspective is wholly accurate; whether or not they put to death fellow tribespeople who dared break their sacred codes. But the assertion that the Nabataeans were “exceptionally fond of freedom” as Hieronymus of Cardia claims is fully backed up in the different historical records of many different cultures and peoples who interacted with them across the ages.

A people of the desert, these earlier Arab nomads epitomized a pattern of resistance to the encroaching influence of civilization, a pattern that recurs throughout history. Their story, like that of so many others, reveals a fundamental conflict between those who embrace a life of independence, autonomous sovereignty, and those who seek control and the imposition of their ways upon others. These contra-historical peoples, as we have termed them, are those who resist the homogenizing force of civilization, fiercely defending and asserting their autonomy and cultural distinctiveness. The Nabataeans, through their clever use of the desert as a natural defense, their control of trade routes, and their nomadic lifestyle, demonstrate this pattern. They were not simply stupid barbarians; they were a complex society with an economy, a culture, and a system of sociality. Their choice to remain in the desert, to largely avoid agriculture, wine, and settled living, especially in their earliest days, was a conscious one, a strategic decision to maintain both their individual and cultural autonomy.

The account mentioned earlier by Hieronymus of Cardia, preserved in Diodorus of Sicily’s writings, provides a glimpse into their customs and beliefs. The Nabataeans’ rejection of the conventional trappings of civilization—the cultivation of crops, the production of wine, the building of houses—was a deliberate act of defiance. They recognized that these civilized practices made them vulnerable to external control. Their choice of a nomadic lifestyle, their ability to move and disappear into the desert, was a means of self-preservation. They understood that the key to their freedom was to remain elusive, ungraspable, and to leverage their knowledge of the environment against their enemies.

Their construction of hidden water cisterns, their intimate knowledge of the desert’s resources, and their careful control of their trade routes, all exemplify their commitment to maintaining their independence. These were not passive acts of survival; they were active strategies of resistance. The Nabataeans were not simply defending their territory; they were defending their way of life, their culture, and their freedom from external control. Their interactions with King Antigonus I Monophthalmos and his generals, and the

Hellenistic world in general, represent a clash of civilizations, a struggle between a settled, expansionist power and a people determined to preserve their autonomy. The Nabataeans were not interested in conquest; they were interested in maintaining their way of life, their autonomy, and their freedom to trade and live as they saw fit. As stated, they were not necessarily warlike, but they were willing to defend their way of life, even through warfare if necessary.

The ability of the Nabataeans to maintain their lifestyle, their ability to resist the incursions of their neighbors throughout the many centuries, demonstrates the effectiveness of their strategy. Their success, however, should not be understood as merely a matter of military prowess. It was the result of a holistic approach, encompassing economic, cultural, and social dimensions. They were not just fighters; they were artists, traders, negotiators, and, above all, masters of their environment.

This pattern of resistance is echoed throughout history. Consider the Chickamauga Cherokee, a group of Cherokee who, following the American Revolution, chose to continue resisting the encroachment of the United States government on their lands and way of life. They refused to sign treaties, continued to raid American settlements, and fought a protracted guerrilla war to protect their independence and traditions. Like the Nabataeans, the Chickamauga Cherokee understood the threat posed by the expansion of European civilization. They saw peace treaties, jurisprudence, and legalism as a means to dispossess them of their land and culture, to force them to abandon their traditional ways of life. The Chickamauga Cherokee, like the Nabataeans, adopted strategies of resistance tailored to their environment. They used the forests and mountains of their homeland as a refuge, launching surprise attacks and retreating into the

wilderness, just as the Nabataeans used the desert. The Apache, a collection of related tribes in the American Southwest, provide another powerful example of this pattern. Their resistance to Spanish and, later, American colonization was legendary. They, like the Nabataeans and Chickamauga Cherokee, used their knowledge of the terrain, their nomadic lifestyle, and their cunning to outmaneuver their enemies. They understood that civilization meant the loss of their freedom, the destruction of their culture, and the dispossession of their land. Their history is replete with acts of defiance, guerrilla warfare, and determined efforts to preserve their independence.

The uncontacted tribes of the Amazon rainforest, still living today, represent a contemporary example of this historical pattern. These isolated communities, often numbering only a few hundred or even dozens of individuals, have actively resisted contact with the outside world. Their reasons are the same as those of the Nabataeans, the Chickamauga Cherokee, and the Apache: they understand that contact with the outside world poses a threat to their way of life, their culture, and their freedom. They have witnessed the destruction of other indigenous communities, the loss of their land, and the forced assimilation into a hostile imperialist culture. Their avoidance of contact is not merely a matter of isolation; it is an act of resistance, a conscious choice to defend their way of life. Pacific people like the Maori of New Zealand, who have continued resisting European colonization for many years, also illustrate this recurring theme. They, too, once fought against British and European rule and the loss of their lands, using their knowledge of the terrain and their fighting skills to resist. They, too, understand that contact with civilization threatened their traditional ways of life, their culture, their autonomy, and mother nature itself.

Even in the modern world, this pattern of resistance persists. The Palestinian people, some of them perhaps direct genetic descendants of the Nabataean tribespeople, who have lived under occupation for decades, almost a century, provide a contemporary example. Our resistance, whether through political activism, cultural expression, or, in some cases, armed conflict, is a struggle to preserve our identity, ourr culture, and our right to self-determination. My steadfast Palestinian people understand that civilization, in the form of Israeli occupation, threatens our freedom, our culture, our spiritualism, and our very existence.

Our struggle, like that of the Nabataeans, the Chickamauga Cherokee, the Apache, the Maori, the uncontacted Amazonian tribes, and so many others is a fight against the homogenizing force of civilization, a struggle to preserve their ways of life. A fight against the silencing of the differend. These contra-historical peoples all share a common thread: a deep-seated commitment to their way of life and a willingness to defend it against every external opponent. They recognize that civilization, with its emphasis on control, standardization, and expansion, often comes at the expense of freedom, cultural diversity, and the autonomy of those who resist it. They choose to live on their own terms, even if it means facing hardship, conflict, and the constant threat of invasion. They understand that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

The Nabataeans, with their ingenious adaptations to the harsh desert environment, their skill in trade and negotiation, and their unwavering determination to remain independent, serve as a brilliant example of this enduring pattern. Their story reminds us that the clash between civilization and those who resist its encroachment is a recurring theme in human history, and that the struggle to preserve cultural distinctiveness and autonomy remains relevant to this day. They, and all those who have followed their example, are a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit to resist homogenization and to choose freedom over control.

The Nabataeans, with their mastery of resource management, and their resistance to outside forces, serve as a striking precursor to Frank Herbert’s Fremen of Arrakis. The parallels are numerous and profound, highlighting the recurring motifs of survival, cultural adaptation, and the struggle for self-determination that resonate across both history and science fiction. The Fremen, just like the contra-historical peoples we have discussed, exemplify the human capacity for resilience and the inherent value of preserving a distinct way of life in the face of external pressures.

Arrakis, or Dune, is a harsh and unforgiving desert planet, much like the environments inhabited by the Nabataeans, the Apache, and other contra-historical groups. This environment shapes the Fremen, forcing them to adapt and evolve in ways that define their culture and survival. Their mastery of water conservation, their development of the stillsuit, and their knowledge of the sandworms are all testaments to their ability to thrive in a seemingly inhospitable world. Similarly, the Nabataeans, through their ingenious reservoirs and their nomadic practices, demonstrated an exceptional understanding of their desert environment. The Apache, too, possessed an intimate knowledge of their arid homeland, using this knowledge to evade their pursuers and sustain themselves.

Both the Fremen and the Nabataeans value their freedom above all else. They resist external control, whether it comes from the Imperium in the case of the Fremen or from the Hellenistic powers in the case of the Nabataeans. This resistance is not merely a matter of military strength; it is a cultural imperative, a deeply ingrained belief in the right to self-determination. The Fremen’s jihad, a religious war for control of Arrakis, is the ultimate expression of this desire for freedom. The Nabataeans, as we have seen, skillfully avoided direct confrontation, but were ready to fight to preserve their liberty.

The cultural practices of the Fremen and the Nabataeans are also remarkably similar. Both groups value communal living, strong social bonds, and a reverence for their ancestors and traditions. The Fremen’s rituals and religious beliefs, centered on the importance of water and the sandworms, are deeply rooted in their environment and history. The Nabataeans, too, appear to have had a strong sense of community and a distinct set of customs that set them apart from their neighbors. Both cultures prioritize survival, placing a high value on resourcefulness, resilience, and a willingness to adapt.

Perhaps the most striking parallel is the Fremen’s role as a provider of a vital resource, melange (spice), much like the Nabataeans controlled key trade routes. The Nabataeans, by controlling the flow of incense and spices, held a position of economic power in the ancient world. They were not merely traders; they were the gatekeepers of a valuable commodity, and thus, of a crucial element in the global economy of their time. Similarly, the Fremen control the production of melange, a substance that is essential for interstellar travel and the prolongation of life. This control gives them immense political and economic leverage, allowing them to challenge the power of the Imperium and ultimately reshape the galaxy.

Both the Nabataeans and the Fremen are seen as “other” by those outside their cultures.They are often misunderstood, feared, and viewed with suspicion. Their customs and ways of life are often seen as strange or primitive, and their resistance to external control is viewed as a threat. This othering is a common theme in the history of contra-historical peoples, who are often marginalized and demonized by those in power. The modern science fiction fan, however, often embraces these figures for the very reasons they are othered. The Fremen, in their alienness, embody ideals of freedom, resistance, and environmental consciousness that many find absent in the civilized world.

There is a latent irony here, however. While science fiction offers an escape into worlds where resistance and survival are glorified, where the marginalized are often the heroes, the real-life counterparts of these fictional characters are often denied the same support. The Nabataeans are gone. Many of the contra-historical groups we’ve discussed face an ongoing struggle, often against overwhelming odds. The uncontacted Amazonian tribes, for example, are threatened by deforestation, mining, and encroachment on their lands. The Palestinians face displacement, occupation, a lack of recognition of their rights, and most recently, unrestrained genocidal assault.

Modern science fiction fandom, often composed of young people, find themselves captivated by these figures. Their escapism allows them to live, vicariously, through the stories of the Fremen. They might wear Fremen cosplay, they might engage in online discussions about the political dimensions of the novel, and even go so far as to fetishize the “otherness” the Fremen embody. But too rarely does this translate into real-world support for those engaged in similar struggles. How often do these fans, caught up in the drama of fictional battles, take concrete actions to support the real-world indigenous communities or Palestinians fighting for their survival? How often do they direct their passion toward real-world combativeness? The detachment is often lamentable. The “cool” warrior in a book or movie, the one who

can survive where others cannot, takes on a heroic cast in the imagination, but the realities of the modern world often mean the destruction of those ideals. The passion for the fictional quickly, it seems, burns itself out without a single match being lit for their real-life counterparts. The science fiction fan, lost in their own world of imaginary threats, often fails to see the real threats facing those who resemble their heroes in the modern day.

This disconnect is not simply a matter of apathy. It is often a complex interplay of factors, including a lack of awareness, a sense of powerlessness, and a tendency to prioritize personal enjoyment over communal action. The Internet and social media offer a platform for surrogate engagements, echo chambers, reinforcing existing biases and most often preventing meaningful dialogue. The distractions of modern life, from the demands of work and school to the constant bombardment of entertainment and vice, can also make it difficult to focus on the struggles of others.

This, however, is not to say that science fiction fandom is entirely divorced from social and political concerns. Many fans are deeply engaged in things like ecology, indigenous struggles, and animal rights. But the focus on fictional worlds often overshadows the struggles of those who embody similar values in reality. The Fremen’s fight for Arrakis, in the minds of some, becomes more important than the Palestinians’ fight for their homeland. The Apaches’ fight for their land becomes a distant memory, buried beneath the imagery of a galactic war. The Fremen, and the Nabataeans, offer lessons that we often fail to take to heart. They remind us of the importance of cultural preservation, the value of self-determination, and the need to respect the environment. They also highlight the dangers of complacency, the risks of ignoring the struggles of others, and the tragic consequences of romanticizing resistance without providing real-world support.

The parallels between the Fremen and the Nabataeans are undeniable, revealing the power of the themes of survival, cultural adaptation, and resistance. The Fremen, like the Nabataeans, embody the ideals of freedom, resilience, and environmental consciousness. As science fiction fans become lost in the escapism that these characters provide, they must also be reminded of those struggling in the modern world, who mirror these figures in so many ways.

Zhachev is a 35 year-old Palestinian born in exile in the southeastern United States. He currently lives and writes from the southern Blue Ridge Mountains. substack.com/@zhachev

Posts navigation

Older posts

"Anarchists know that a long period of education must precede any great fundamental change in society, hence they do not believe in vote-begging, nor political campaigns, but rather in the development of self-thinking individuals."

Lucy Parsons - The Principles Of Anarchism, 1905

Contact us
fawnarchy@grrlz.net
(Signal) muntjac161.96

"Social" Media

Monthly Newsletter (Via Email)

Buy The Magazine / Donate / Subscribe

Send Us Stuff!
We adore books, zines, love letters, posters, and sweet treats.
But please contact us first...

Muntjac Collective
C/O Freedom Press
84b Whitechapel High St
E1 7QX
London
UK

Protect Yourself
AnarSec
No Trace Project
Tor Project
Tails USB

Counter-Info
Act For Freedom Now!
Unoffensive Animal
Unravel
Sans Nom
Switch off! - The System of Destruction
Squat Radar
A2day
Insendier!
Contra Info
Blessed Is The Flame
Avtonom
La Nemesi
Takku
Informativo Anarquista

Police Monitoring
Copwatch Network
NetPol

Stop Deportations
Anti Raids Network
Migrants' Rights Network

Anti Repression Projects
Bristol Anarchist Black Cross
Brighton Anarchist Black Cross
Incarcerated Workers Organising Committee
Palestine Action Prisoners
Lavender Pages (a solidarity project for LGBTQIA+ prisoners)
NYC Anarchist Black Cross
Support Defendants & Prisoners From the George Floyd Uprisings
Prisoner Solidarity
June 11th - International Day of Solidarity with Marius Mason & All Long-Term Anarchist Prisoners
International Week of Solidarity with Anarchist Prisoners // 23 – 30 August

All our publications are free for prisoners.

  • November 2025
  • June 2025
  • May 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • February 2025
  • January 2025
  • December 2024
  • November 2024
  • October 2024
  • September 2024
Proudly powered by WordPress | Theme: micro, developed by DevriX.