Skip to content

Muntjac Magazine

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

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

Month: May 2025

Anon – Selections From Disquietude Laboratory (2023) 

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency 

Translated from ‘Disquietude Laboratory’ (‘Laboratorium Kegundahan’) poetry collection published by Der Einzege, 2023.

 

MARHABAN

Botol kaca, bahan bakar

Kacamata, sarung tangan.

Ku keluarkan semuanya

Kau perhatikan percikannya.

Kita kan bermain

Aku dimensi yang lain.

 

GREETINGS

Glass bottle, fuel

Goggles, gloves.

I take them out

You watch the sparks.

We shall play

I am another dimension.

 

—

 

MAINTEXT

Bagiku kolektif hanyalah kesadaran anarkis

pada titik paling berandal.

 

MAINTEXT

To me the collective is anarchist consciousness

at its most rebellious.

 

—

 

KONTRA ARKAIS

Mula-mula mempersenjatai kita

Dengan taktik, granat, tanpa harap.

Kemudian semua melupa

Pada gejala tiap amarah yang dipunya.

Diri lepas dari semuanya.

 

COUNTER-ARCHAIC

First arming us

With tactics, grenades, without hope.

Then we forget

at first symptom of anger.

The self lets go of all.

 

Translated by Mar, you can download/read the entire zine in Indonesian here: 

archive.org/details/stensil-der-einzige-folder

You can follow it’s creators here: instagram.com/__dereinzige & linktr.ee/dereinzige 

Anon – Selections from Kompilasi Puizine

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency 

INSUREKSI ADALAH PUISI!

 

Puisi saja takkan cukup, anarkisme juga takkan cukup. Kita perlu keduanya, serangan-serangan indah, bahasa-bahasa yang tak dimengerti: berada di luar logika kekuasaan. Kita perlu banyak penyair yang siap melempar batu dan peledak. Kita juga perlu anarkis-anarkis yang memiliki puisi di dalam dirinya! Ketidaklogisan puisi, senjata yang masuk akal untuk menghancurkan dominasi!

 

Hidup kita penuh akan penderitaan, maka jalan satu-satunya adalah pemberontakan yang takkan pernah usai. Sampai semua bebas, sampai negara dan seisinya luluhlantak rata dengan tanah. Pertarungan kita tidak berhenti di sini, tidak berhenti di setiap puisi yang kita tulis. Pertarungan kita melampaui setiap tanggal, melampaui masyarakat, melampaui negara dan kapitalisme. Pertarungan kita berpencar ke segala Arah!

 

Puisi-puisi kita tidak berhenti di setiap lembaran kertas, di beranda sosial media, di setiap komunitas sastra serta di museum kesenian yang dijaga satpam-satpam kesenian yang tua, banyak omong dan menjengkelkan. Puisi-puisi kita jelek, kurus, onar dan tak bisa diatur. Keindahan-keindahan puisi kita adalah teror: molotov, bom rakitan, petasan dan batu yang

menyerang titik-titik vital negara dan kapitalisme. Puisi-puisi kita adalah api, menjalar serentak membakar matahari!

 

PUISI ADALAH INSUREKSI!

 

INSURRECTION IS POETRY!

 

Poetry alone is not enough, anarchism is not enough either. We need both, beautiful attacks, languages ​​that are not understood: beyond the logic of power. We need many poets who are ready to throw stones and explosives. We also need anarchists who have poetry in them! The illogicality of poetry, a reasonable weapon to destroy domination!

 

Our lives are full of suffering, so the only way is a rebellion that will never end.

Until all are free, until the country and everything in it is destroyed to the ground. Our fight does not stop here, it does not stop in every poem we write. Our fight goes beyond every date, beyond society, beyond the state and capitalism. Our fight spreads in all directions!

 

Our poems do not stop on every sheet of paper, on social media homepages, in every literary community and in art museums guarded by old, talkative and annoying art guards. Our poems are ugly, thin, troublemaking and unruly. The beauties of our poems are terror: molotov cocktails, homemade bombs, firecrackers and stones that attack vital points of the state and capitalism. Our poems are fire, spreading and burning the sun!

 

POETRY IS INSURRECTION!

 

–

 

SIALNYA, ORANG TUAKU POLISI

Oleh G Kribo, anak dari penjual motor antik dan buruh setrika, bukan anak polisi

 

Papa Mama bolehkah aku durhaka

Saban hari serupa neraka

Aku anggap malapetaka

Aku percaya hidup ini

hanya menjalankan takdir

Tapi aku percaya ditakdirkan untuk melawan tirani

Karena negara tak pernah beri hidup kita sebuah arti

Kita hanya mencari diksi dan berjuang lalu mati

Tapi kobaran api tak pernah berhenti

Tuhan, jika kau ada, kaulah yang pertama kubunuh

Terlahir dari rahim mesin pembunuh

Aku muak diasuh oleh penyembah peluru

 

UNFORTUNATELY, MY PARENTS ARE POLICE

By G Kribo, son of an antique motorbike seller and an ironing worker, not the son of a policeman

 

Papa Mama, can I be disobedient

Every day is like hell

I consider it a disaster

I believe this life is

only carrying out destiny

But I believe I am destined to fight tyranny

Because the state never gives our lives a meaning

We only seek diction and fight then die

But the flames never stop

God, if you exist, you are the first I will kill

Born from the womb of a killing machine

I am sick of being raised by a bullet worshiper

 

–

 

BERINGAS

Oleh R A

 

Ruai takdir begitu jalang

sama muka kita terpendam dengan pelik

nyata terang habis dibakar—dilupakan

apa yang kau ambil dari semua siasat busuk itu?

Jiwa dan hati manusia dihapuskan

dengan nyata kulihat tipu daya ini benar adanya

rentang waktu bergulir menuju akhir

semakin jelas kudengar tawa lepasmu sialan!

Tiap-tiap makna dilucuti

memperkosa ruang pikir

agar semua orang berkata

ini benar dan aku adalah aku!

Rayakanlah kemenanganmu

ambil dan kulai tiap makna yang kau berangus

tapi nyalaku akan selalu menerjang

membakar tiap mimpi buruk yang kau wujudkan

 

VIOLENT

By R A

 

Ruai fate is so bitchy

with our faces buried with complicated

clearly clear burned out—forgotten

what did you take from all those rotten tricks?

The soul and heart of man are erased

I clearly see this trickery is true

the span of time rolls towards the end

I hear your damn free laughter more clearly!

Every meaning is stripped away

raping the space of thought

so that everyone says

this is true and I am me!

Celebrate your victory

take and conquer every meaning that you have destroyed

but my flame will always strike

burn every nightmare that you have made come true

 

–

 

BOTOL

Oleh A N

 

Hari ke hari

Pekan ke pekan

Kondisi negara

Makin gak karuan.

 

Pelan-pelan

Kita harus

Nyiapin bekal

Buat ngehantam

Aparat sialan.

 

“Puter dulu botolnya

kawan”

 

Orang kecil

Kayak kita

Juga bisa

Kalo cuman

Ngebakar gedung

Tempat ngumpulnya

Aparat bajingan.

 

“Tuang bensinnya kawan”

 

Jangan kebelah

Apalagi ngebuka

Celah.

 

Paling penting

Jaga kanan-kiri

Biar gak gampang

Diprovokasi.

Karena

Musuh kita

Sebenernya cuman

Satu.

 

Yaitu, negara

Beserta

Kroni-kroninya.

 

“Nyalakan dan lempar kawan”

 

BOTTLE

By A N

 

Day by day

Week by week

The condition of the country

Is getting worse.

 

Slowly

We have to

Prepare supplies

To hit

The damn authorities.

 

“Spin the bottle first comrade”

 

Little people

Like us

Can also

If it’s just

Burning down buildings

Where the bastard authorities gather.

 

“Pour the gasoline, friend”

 

Don’t split

Let alone open

Gaps.

Most importantly

Guard the right and left

So that you won’t be easily

Provoked.

Because

Our enemy

Is actually only

One.

Namely, the state

Along with

its cronies.

 

“Light it up and throw it, friend”

 

Taken from a pair of zines published in Indonesia in 2025. Machine translated, you can download both zines here: ananarchistcalledmutt.noblogs.org/post/2025/04/07/kompilasi-puizine

you can follow the publishers work at instagram.com/sengisengzine & linktr.ee/talaspress

08 – Revolution or Reification?: A Critique of FRSO’s Political Program

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

A Marxist Party of a New (Old) Type

In the current evolution of the so-called radical left in the so-called United States, one concerning trend is the growing popularity of Marxist-Leninist organizations, particularly among newly-activated young people. One organization that has been a major beneficiary of such a surge has been the Freedom Road Socialist Organization (FRSO), which, though around for decades, has become more visible and active on the ground and online in recent years. FRSO’s article on their 2022 congress states that “[r]eflecting the rapid growth of FRSO over the last four years, this was the first congress for most attendees. While some of the participants were veterans of the communist movement with many decades of experience, the overwhelming majority were under 35 years old.” [1] This trend has continued.

 

FRSO’s program presents their goals and principles in an easily digestible format, divided into six sections. It is a quite basic Marxist-Leninist program and, as such, contains the flaws inherent to this organizational model, making for an uninspiring document outdated in its ideas and of little use. Fundamentally, it is stuck in a fetishized statist framework that conflates socialism with a planned state-capitalist economy, reinforces the colonial foundations on which the so-called United States is built, and spreads false information about its populations. We should criticize this anti-revolutionary program and challenge its growing influence.

 

At the root of the falsehoods that FRSO presents as objective truths is a bourgeois positivization of science and a twisting of Marx’s understanding of scientific inquiry. The introduction to their program claims that it is “a product of FRSO’s collective efforts at applying the science of revolution, Marxism-Leninism, to the day-to-day struggles we build and lead.” [2] The idea that Marxism-Leninism is an immortal science is a belief upheld by such organizations, but as John Holloway reminds us in his Change the World Without Taking Power:

 

For Marx, science is negative. The truth of science is the negation of the untruth of false appearances. In the post Marx Marxist tradition, however, the concept of science is turned from a negative into a positive concept. The category of fetishism, so central for Marx, is almost entirely forgotten by the mainstream Marxist tradition. From being the struggle against the untruth of fetishism, science comes to be understood as knowledge of reality. With the positivisation of science, power-over penetrates into revolutionary theory and undermines it… [emphasis added][3]

 

By turning Marx’s demystification of fetishisms on its head and presenting Marxism-Leninism as a prescriptive “science,” FRSO is able to paint any narrative but theirs as based in a misunderstanding of reality. This positivization is the source of their dogmatic chauvinism and why their political program should not be taken seriously.

 

If revolution is the opposite of reification—a process of negating oppressive social relations rather than of externalizing and taking them for granted—then the fetishism by organizations like FRSO only serves to obfuscate the reality that the political and economic complexes of the United States are but two aspects of the same social web. The state cannot and will not save us; as much as groups like FRSO like to believe that “political power—our collective ability to dictate what is and will be—lets us effectively attack every kind of injustice and inequality” [2], the reality is that the very existence of the state is an injustice that breeds inequality. The modern state came into being side by side with capitalism; this isn’t to say that they are one and the same, nor that contradictions can’t exist between them, only that they are so deeply bonded that one cannot be abolished in isolation from the other. In the context of the United States, we must extend this analysis of social relations further to include the structures of colonialism. The state, capitalism, and colonialism are threads twisted and tied together in a convoluted knot of violence and exploitation, a Gordian knot that cannot be untangled, only destroyed.

 

Building an Edifice on Weak Foundations

The introductory section of the FRSO program displays a blatant confusion as to what capitalism is and a misreading of how oppressive institutions developed within the so-called United States. FRSO’s prescription to resolve the problems brought on by capitalism is an alternative they call “socialism,” despite it being but state-capitalism. Rather than strengthening the struggle against labor, FRSO leans into a struggle of labor wholly grounded in the capitalist system. Like all Leninists, FRSO also has a tendency to erroneously subsume all forms of oppression into a totalizing class struggle. If a political program begins by misidentifying the nature of the problems it seeks to respond to, it’s impossible for what follows to be truly helpful.

 

According to the analysis under the subsection “Capitalism must go!”:

 

Capitalism is a shortsighted, unplanned system that has one aim: the achievement of the highest rate of profit, which in turn concentrates wealth into fewer and fewer hands. Systematic and ever-present inequality is a built-in feature of capitalism. The oppression of women, the inequality faced by oppressed nationalities, and class exploitation, extend into the foundations of capitalism. Nothing about this society is just or fair.

 

This isn’t the worst place to start; yet this analysis leads them to the conclusion that “our class needs to take power by revolutionary means. We need socialism, where the commanding heights of society are occupied by the working class, placing all political and economic power in our hands” [emphasis added]. In other words, rather than suggesting that, as originally claimed, “Capitalism must go!”, FRSO instead thinks that it should instead simply be placed in the hands of “the working class,” and things will figure themselves out. We find very similar language in Chapter 30, “What is Neo-colonialism?” from J. Sykes’ The Revolutionary Science of Marxism-Leninism (a book published by FRSO consisting of articles from their “Red Theory” series, whose content builds upon their program). Sykes claims that:

 

In the case of Cuba, Vietnam, China, Laos, and the DPRK… the working class controls the commanding heights of the socialist economies of these countries and operates them in a planned way to benefit the people first and foremost [emphasis added], they have been able to develop their productive forces, expand their economies and improve the conditions of their people. [4]

 

So, to Sykes and FRSO, “socialism” is but a synonym of a planned state-capitalist economy; they look to nation-states like “Cuba, Vietnam, China, Laos, and the DPRK” as models and inspirations of what can and should be implemented within the United States. Setting aside this idea until the analysis of the program’s section titled “Socialism,” it is clear that any goals whose baselines are the achievements of currently existing self-proclaimed socialist nations cannot be truly revolutionary. This is not genuine socialism, only a fetishized and uncreative illusion of it where rule by a Marxist-Leninist party is equated with social revolution. Likewise, FRSO’s conception of the working class is a fetishized one, one that assumes the relations between capital and labor to be pre-constituted. Returning to Holloway, this conception of the working class fails to see that “[w]e do not struggle as working class, we struggle against being working class, against being classified. Our struggle is not the struggle of labour: it is the struggle against labour.” Furthermore, “in this sense working class identity is not something ‘good’ to be treasured [or “proud of” [2]], but something ‘bad’… to be fought against… Or rather, working-class identity should be seen as a non-identity: the communion of struggle to be not working class.” [3] By turning “working class” into just another fetishized identifier, the core of what revolutionary social relations could be is removed as an option; possibilities are once more caged within the currently existing relations of capitalist society. We will return to this idea of self-limiting identities later on.

 

The subsection that follows, titled “Proud history, bright future,” draws a chronological history of the so-called United States. The very first sentence states that “[t]he history of the U.S. is a history of class struggle,” setting the stage for an analysis that subordinates all to the hegemonic “class struggle.” It goes on to say that according to Lenin, “the American Revolution of 1776 was a ‘great war of liberation’ that was part of the era’s wave of progressive democratic struggles against the landholding autocracy and feudal reaction that dominated Europe.” No following analysis that might acknowledge the realities of colonialism within the so-called United States can undo or outweigh honestly believing that there was anything liberatory about the “American Revolution.” It is only a reductive linear narrative about some sort of progressive march of history that can lead one to subscribe to such an outlook; it again guarantees that the solutions proposed and the future envisioned fail to look beyond existing social relations and simply mean to reform the systems that exist within them. It does not matter what Lenin, Marx, or anybody else might have to say about the “American Revolution” when a more nuanced understanding can better inform us and our goals.

 

Despite saying that from “its onset, capitalism in the U.S. was based on genocide, directed against the Native peoples, and fueled by slavery,” the struggles against statism, capitalism, colonialism, etc. are reduced to a history in which “[t]here were constant attempts by working people, in the cities and on the farms, to fight for their own interests” [emphasis added]. This flattening of diverse struggles to the singular economic-class struggle ignores the existence of a more complex history, particularly the way “working people” with a stake in the colonial project of the United States have been historically motivated to perpetuate oppressive social relations rather than advance a revolutionary cause seeking to abolish them. [5,6] “Their own interests” has meant very different things to different people. There is also an attempt to draw a contrast between the “rise [of] one [of] the world’s first trade union movements” and “the genocidal westward expansion” when these were both the result of the same capitalist social relations. It is not helpful to ignore material conditions for the sake of trying to force history to align with dogma.

 

It is also this introductory section of the program that first mentions the ideas of a so-called “Chicano nation” of “Aztlán” and the “African American nation in the Black Belt South,” but we will set these aside for now; we’ll first take a look at FRSO’s analysis of “monopoly capitalism,” their identified enemy, and their proposed economic model, what they call “socialism.”

 

Real Problems and False Solutions

The second and third sections of the FRSO program, titled “The Enemy: Monopoly Capitalism” and “Socialism,” serve to paint a picture of the existing present and an ideal future, according to FRSO. Instead of looking beyond capitalist production and towards liberated forms of living, FRSO relies on the precedent set by so-called socialist states in their imagining of a “revolutionary” alternative. The concentration on class struggle leads FRSO to fail to contend with the U.S.’s colonial and slave heritage and thus to refuse to abolish all that comes with it. They also offer a reductive analysis of oppressed groups, which limits our ability to move beyond the reproduction of legalistic and patronizing models.

 

The program states: “Exploitation, inequality, and oppression are not things that ‘just happen.’ Everything that is wrong with this country is the product of a system: monopoly capitalism.” Remaining consistent, FRSO’s flattened approach identifies monopoly capitalism (which they call the highest and final stage of capitalism) as the source of all oppression and so the enemy that must be fought through class struggle. This is the basis for FRSO’s analysis wherein contemporary capitalism is defined as a system “characterized by an incredible concentration and centralization of wealth, where big banks become intertwined with industry, creating a financial oligarchy”; thus equating capitalism generally with private corporate capitalism specifically. This allows them to call their alternative to capitalism socialism, which in truth is but state capitalism (if we are to define capitalism as a set of relations of production in which individuals sell their labor to employers in exchange for wages within an economy based on commodity production).

 

As mentioned earlier, capitalism did not materialize in the United States in a vacuum and henceforth shaped all social relations through the vector of production; it was settler colonialism and the slave trade that set the stage and then contributed to the growth of capitalism here. As Gerald Horne states when analyzing how the British became the reigning global superpower over the course of what he calls the long 16th century, “any explanation that elides slavery, colonialism, and the shards of an emerging capitalism, along with their handmaiden—white supremacy—is deficient in explanatory power.” The course of history later led the British to pass “the baton to its revolting spawn, the United States, which has carried global dominance into the present century.” [7] Though this does not contradict what is stated in the program’s introduction, it highlights the rupture in logic evident within it. Contemporary capitalism is so deeply imbued with that inherited from slavery and settler colonialism that it cannot be redirected from the top into a system that will “open the road to freedom for working and oppressed people… [create] endless possibilities for humanity to work collectively to solve the great challenges of the economy, health, science, culture, war, and the environment” and empower us to “have lives with purpose in a healthy, productive society that benefits all people.” [2] To sincerely believe this is to be satisfied with appropriating a megamachine built off the backs of enslaved Africans and Natives that continues to commit genocide (and ecocide) today. It is choosing to reform white supremacy rather than rejecting it.

 

The subsection titled “Socialism in the U.S.” claims that:

 

We will end the anarchy of production and replace it with a rational, planned economy, where working people come first… Work itself will be transformed. With the working class in charge of society, workers will have a real say in how our workplaces are run [emphasis added]. Under capitalism, we face the despotism of foremen and supervisors who make us toil for exploiters. Socialism means we will have a real interest in the goods and services we produce.

 

In revisiting FRSO’s judgment of contemporary nation-states as examples of real existing socialism, these claims ring hollow. Describing these identified model-nations as ones that put working people first is to dismiss the diverse struggles within them. FRSO conflates the idea of a working class with the Marxist-Leninist party in power that claims to represent it; their revolution is in no way socially revolutionary; it does not mean to destroy existing oppressive social relations and create new libertarian ones but simply to reform the inner workings of the current system. To take the example of China, by far the most populous nominally socialist nation in history, either the largest or second largest economy in the world (if measured by PPP GDP or nominal GDP, respectively), and to many the bulwark of socialism in the 21st century, calling it a place where working people come first and despotic workplaces have been transformed into ones where laborers are free from foremen and supervisors would be laughable if the reality weren’t so tragic. Honest accounts expose the lie in this. [8-11] Ivan Franceschini and Christian Sorace in the introductory essay to the collection Proletarian China: A Century of Chinese Labor unambiguously write:

 

This century has seen what is now one of the largest and most powerful political parties on earth transform from a revolutionary organisation whose foundations were built on the promise of the emancipation of the working class and pursuit of an alternative to capitalist modernity, into a capitalist machine decorated with socialist ornamentation that violently crushes any expression of labour organisation and working-class solidarity. [8]

 

This is an accurate representation of the current conditions in the People’s Republic of China, a reality nothing like the imaginary one that FRSO seems to inhabit. Not to mention the history of “China” and the fact that it only encompasses the territory it does today after centuries of displacement, ethnic cleansing, and ongoing settler-colonialism [12-17]; nor that China’s economic accomplishments can only be seen as a success in isolation from the reality of uneven development and overproduction. [18] Perhaps FRSO’s ignorance of a foreign country shouldn’t be surprising given their analysis of the one they live in.

 

The “Monopoly Capitalism” section of the program describes the destruction wrought upon the world by American capitalism: on women, [2S]LGBTQ+ individuals, foreign nations, and the planet itself; and the ways that the American state serves the wealthy and their corporations while also creating laws that target marginalized groups. [2] Only intense cognitive dissonance could lead one to ignore the important similarities between the American Empire and the Chinese—or the Soviet one before it—that place them firmly within the category of anti-revolutionary.

 

Though this is not the place for a more detailed analysis of the political and economic terrains of current “socialist” nations, suffice it to say that taking a stance like that of FRSO exposes one as not only historically illiterate but also unfathomably chauvinistic—it is an injustice to those within these nation-states who yearn for genuine liberty and self-determination. It is often easier to be reductive than to learn and understand history. Why bother when you’re a disciple of the revolutionary science?

 

Stuck at Bird’s-Eye:

 

In general, the “Socialism” section exposes a naive and simplistic understanding of how societies reproduce themselves. There is a tendency to be restricted to a top-down view, thus missing many nuances. As a result, FRSO fails to grasp that liberated communities can never spawn from simple legal reforms and good intentions.

 

In implementing FRSO’s suggested policies for the self-determination of “oppressed nations” and sovereignty for Indigenous peoples, not only is the existence of a ward-guardian relationship with Indigenous peoples maintained, but their supposedly sovereign territories overlap with that of the Chicano and African-American nations. Graciously granting liberty to oppressed peoples and independence to colonies (while seemingly maintaining colonial borders, both national and between US states) are not the revolutionary actions that FRSO believes them to be. It is also noteworthy that the Hawaiian Islands are recognized as an internally oppressed nation and not a colony, seemingly because of their current status as one of the fifty states as opposed to a territory. The concepts of Indigenous peoples “sovereignty,” the “African American nation” in the Black Belt South, and the “Chicano Nation” in the Southwest will be revisited further on.

 

FRSO claims that their model of socialism would open the door to “a more harmonious relationship with nature… [allowing] us to systematically raise our standard of living, while getting rid of all that is wasteful and irrational [emphasis added],” yet their suggestion of an industrial state-capitalist economy cannot lead to this, only to continued ecocide. Then again, states do tend to set their own standards and bend the meaning of words to their convenience. Nevertheless, less vicious and destructive capitalism is still capitalism, an inherently vicious and destructive system.

 

The suggestion that “for socialism to advance, the oppression of women needs to be pulled up by its roots” is correct, but the solution of “attacking inequality in the economic base… the realization of democratic rights, including reproductive rights, and developing ways for women to be able to participate fully in all aspects of political and social life” is not pulling up the roots of patriarchy; it is pruning. In a world where liberties exist for women, it would not be necessary for any political entity to grant them as legal rights—which, if given, can always be taken back away, as exemplified by the right to abortion in the USSR and later the US—they certainly cannot exist within the colonial and capitalist social relations that FRSO is so keen on maintaining. The same can be said about the full liberation of 2SLGBTQ+ individuals: liberation does not mean replacing old laws with new ones; it means ridding the land of colonial laws at a minimum.

 

I believe it is worth noting that there is no mention of freedom for children and teenagers in the FRSO program, when the liberation of minors from oppression would undoubtedly be an important element of a true social revolution. This is yet another example of allowing currently existing oppressive social relations to make one blind to possibilities.

 

The proclaimed goals of “a foreign policy that promotes peace and relates to other countries with the aim of achieving mutual respect and common benefit… [built on] working class internationalism” as well as that of “[aiding] other revolutionaries who are struggling against monopoly capitalism and oppression” seem incompatible with not only the maintenance of colonial structures but also the proclaimed alignment with nations like the PRC, a state that has historically maintained ties with feudal monarchs and military dictators [19] and whose economy depends on the continued oppression of laborers internationally. [18, 20] Conflicts of the 20th century, like the Sino-Soviet split and the Sino-Vietnamese war, also show how even relations between Marxist-Leninist states have the potential to turn sour.

 

Blinded by fetishisms, FRSO believes that they will “continue the class struggle until there are no more classes,” yet deny even the possibility of dismantling the statist-colonial-capitalist supercomplex. Suggesting that Marxism-Leninism is necessary to liberate the so-called United States can be called nothing other than chauvinism. The goal of a classless society can never and will never come as a result of Leninist (counter)revolution; this is especially true here. Ironically, this part of the program ends with the following paragraph:

 

When people change the world, they themselves are also changed. To change the world positively, then, in pursuit of justice for the majority of humankind, is to change humankind itself. Only through the struggle for socialism can this bright future be ours. The present is the battlefield where control over the future is fought for and won. There’s no better time to join that fight than right now.

 

This is a beautiful message, one I wholeheartedly agree with, though an important nuance is left unspoken—means must always match ends. Humans (societies) reproduce themselves, and thus a world healed from injustices cannot be born from dictatorship. To change the world, we must engage with it in ways that change us to our core, digging beneath and uprooting the ingrained fetishisms of a corrupted world. It will always be true that even more important than what we achieve is how we achieve it.

 

Class Divisions and the “National Question” Question

The three final sections of the program, “Class in the U.S. and our Strategy for Revolution,” “Immediate Demands of Labor,” and “Immediate Demands for U.S. Colonies, Indigenous Peoples, and Oppressed Nationalities,” present FRSO’s analyses of class-based and national identities in the United States and their proposals stemming from these analyses. Regarding class, FRSO takes the standard Marxist approach of deducing class from relations of production strictly, rather than relations of power more holistically. The primacy that they place on this economic class struggle leads them to treat what FRSO members like Sykes refer to as the “National Question” as but an appendage of the larger class struggle. [4] The very framing of national liberation as but a corollary “question” that must be answered for the sake of class struggle highlights a tendency to reduce real living struggles to theoretical points. As for their supposed demands, those related to labor amount to a more “progressive” and benign capitalism, while those related to “U.S. Colonies, Indigenous Peoples, and Oppressed Nationalities” are ill-informed and high-handed, ultimately reinforcing colonial-capitalist social relations.

 

For FRSO’s plan of revolution to become a reality, “[w]orking and oppressed peoples need political power.” To them, this “power is the means to reorganize society in our own interests and dictate our terms to all who stand in the way,” thus their basic strategy is to build “a united front against the monopoly capitalist class, under the leadership of the working class and its political party, with a strategic alliance between the multinational working class and the oppressed nationalities at the core.” [2] As noted before, the so-called “leadership of the working class and its political party” should be read as the leadership of a communist party, a party that seeks to take power and afterwards, as they say, “dictate [their] terms to all who stand in the way.”

 

We will eschew a more detailed evaluation of FRSO’s list of restrictively defined class categories for the single reason that such reductive and specific identifiers largely serve as another reason for self-described revolutionaries to treat social change as if it were an algebraic equation. As for their labor demands, I will only say that for an organization that claims not to be a party but is rather making efforts to build a new (future) Communist Party, their list reads much like a political party’s electoral platform; there is also a tendency of turning to economism. We will shift our focus to their demands for Indigenous Peoples and Oppressed Nationalities.

 

Fetishized Indigenous Sovereignty:

 

When it comes to the so-called “United States,” the primary struggle, or if one prefers to borrow terminology from Mao Zedong Thought, the primary contradiction, is colonialism. To begin to imagine a possible future where communism can exist anywhere within this territory, decolonization is a requirement. Since the institutions of settler and resource colonialism have developed from the moment Europeans first landed in what is now the so-called United States, the resolving of this contradiction would mean the absolute and total destruction of the United States as an entity. Nothing can change this reality. This is not a matter of debate or compromise; turning the United States into a supposed worker-led “socialist state” (if one can even seriously imagine such a scenario) would not undo the structures of colonialism. A refusal to accept this reality is likely the most blatant failure of the FRSO program.

 

Klee Benally, author of No Spiritual Surrender, brilliantly critiques the methods and ideology of Marxist parties from an Indigenous perspective. It is helpful to quote this at length:

Marxism’s theoretical inadequacy as a strategy for Indigenous autonomy and liberation lies in its commitment to an industrialized worker-run State as the vehicle for revolutionary transformation towards a stateless society. Forced industrialization has ravaged the Earth and the people of the Earth. To solely focus on an economic system rather than indict the consolidation of power as an expression of modernity has resulted in the predictions of anarchist critics (like Bakunin) to come true; the ideological doctrine of socialists tends towards bureaucracy, intelligentsia, and ultimately totalitarianism.

….

To be required to assume a role in a society that is premised on colonial political and economic ideology towards the overthrow of that system to achieve communalization is to require political assimilation and uniformity as a condition for, and of, revolution. Marxist and Maoist positions demand it which means they demand Indigenous People to reconfigure that which makes them Indigenous to become weapons of class struggle. The process inherently alienates diverse and complex Indigenous social compositions by compelling them to act as subjects of a revolutionary framework based on class and production. Indigenous collectives exist in ways that leftist political ideologies refuse to imagine, as to do so would conflict with the primary architecture of “enlightenment” and “modernity” that their “civilized” world is built on.

This is why we reject the overture to shed our cultural “bondage” and join the proletarian dictatorship. We reject the gestures to own the means of production with our expectant assimilated role of industrial or cultural worker. Any social arrangement based on industrialization is a dead end for the Earth and the peoples of the Earth. Class war on stolen lands could abolish economic exploitation while retaining settler-colonialism. We have no use for any politics that calculates its conclusion within the context of these kinds of power relations. [all emphasis added][21]

Beyond the fetishization of the state that Marxist-Leninist organizations are all prone to, to suggest that a “dictatorship of the proletariat” is the appropriate solution in a settler-colony like the United States is to map colonial political geography onto Indigenous social relations; it is authoritarian temporality locking possibilities within a modern framework.

 

As Benally likewise speaks about, the very idea of Indigenous sovereignty is colonial in its origin—before the arrival of Europeans, Indigenous peoples did not need any state to grant them sovereignty, the same way they surely wouldn’t in the aftermath of a genuine social revolution. FRSO says that such sovereignty would include “upholding past treaties and abolishing the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and the exercise of local political power.” [2] What legitimacy is there in treaties signed under coercion? What is the meaning of local political power still within the settler-colonial structure of the United States? To make it worse, what they call the “right to national development” means “gaming and especially the return of indigenous peoples’ land and natural resources to make their sovereign areas economically viable” [emphasis added]. This doesn’t sound much different from existing dynamics where recognized tribes are legally considered domestic dependent nations, have centralized tribal governments unlike social structures that existed before colonialism, with some created specifically for the intention of extraction through the signing over of access to natural resources. [21] The term “economically viable” implies a continuing exploitation of Native peoples and lands for the sake of industrial production, which, as Benally says, is a dead end for the Earth and all of us who live through her.

 

FRSO’s plan for Indigenous sovereignty is chauvinistic and colonial in nature. It is only by destroying the settler-colonial state that Indigenous peoples can begin to reclaim liberty. What hope can come from an organization that praises powerful men and power itself?

 

The 12/4/24 Article:

 

During the process of writing this essay, J. Sykes of FRSO published an article on fightbacknews.org titled “Marxism-Leninism and the theory of settler-colonialism in the United States,” the stated purpose of which was to “challenge and correct theoretical errors,” specifically the “tendency from some on the left to argue that the United States should be understood today as a settler-colonial state.” [22] He summarizes this tendency as one that believes that

 

The United States remains today a settler-colonial state. People of European descent, regardless of their actual class position, are settlers, and are seen as continuing to benefit from and perpetuate a colonial system. In other words, the people of the United States are divided into two camps, with the colonized in one camp, and the settlers in the other. Some even go so far as to say that this makes up the principal contradiction in the U.S. This is furthermore viewed as a fundamentally antagonistic contradiction.

 

He contrasts this with “the Marxist-Leninist view, which recognizes the United States as an advanced imperialist country” and also views it as divided “into two camps”: the capitalists being one and an alliance of the working-class and oppressed nationalities the other. Sykes goes on to acknowledge that if the United States continues to be a settler colony today, then FRSO’s thesis has “no basis whatsoever upon which to build a multinational working class communist party in this country.” This is ultimately what it comes down to—an arrogant obsession with state power, being unable to see past fetishisms, and thus clinging onto existing anti-revolutionary social relations.

 

Sykes says that while the United States might have begun as a settler colony, to suggest it remains so is “metaphysical thinking.” According to his application of dialectical materialism, settler colonialism was but a transitional period in the development of capitalism. As mentioned earlier, in truth, settler colonialism and slavery built the skeleton of American capitalism that allows it to continue standing. To Sykes, settler colonialism was but a limited period that led to competitive capitalism, which then led to monopoly capitalism, the primary contradiction today and the enemy of the working class. This strange line of thinking exposes the inconsistency of FRSO’s rhetoric, who, though able to recognize Israel as a settler-colony, deny the United States’ status as one. Are we to then assume there are scenarios in which, through the simple passing of time, Israel can one day cease to be a settler-colony?

 

Sykes’ article lists the Hawaiian, Chicano, and African American nations as the three oppressed nations within the United States, explicitly differentiating them from colonies; thus, doubling down on Hawaii not being a colony and the seeming importance of maintaining the integrity of the United States’ borders.

 

He goes on to say that “[s]elf-determination is a democratic demand. It means that the oppressed nation ought to democratically determine its own destiny. Historically imposed obstacles to genuine political power must be systematically dismantled [emphasis added].” The irony is extraordinary; his dedication to this narrative is one that itself excludes the possibility of self-determination for Indigenous peoples, which would require an (anti)politics that first of all recognizes that the United States is a settler colony that must die for Indigenous peoples and cultures to live.

 

Like the FRSO program, Sykes’ article states that “in the era of imperialism, the national question is bound up with proletarian socialist revolution,” the supposedly correct position, which he contrasts to the “theory of U.S. settler-colonialism” that originated among “petty bourgeois radicals [who] pride themselves on taking the most outwardly revolutionary position, regardless of whether or not it holds up to scientific analysis.” It would do Sykes good to reevaluate his framework that singles out relations of production as the source of all oppression, as would it for him to reassess Marx’s category of fetishism and negative conception of science.

 

According to Benally, “[t]he colonial logic of futurity is only concerned with the reproduction of settler society.” A refusal to reject a stagist understanding of history and its narrative of progression means to stand for this violent settler reproduction. It seems to me that FRSO’s denial of the reality of ongoing settler-colonialism is largely rooted in settler anxiety, an anxiety about their own status and potential role in a decolonized space. On the topic of what decolonization means and looks like, Benally states:

 

Since settler identity only can exist without consent, it would follow that re-connecting through non-dominating means, or establishing interrelationality, would be the response. But the preconditions for agreement demand destruction of the settler self, all that it represents, and all that it upholds. The proposal of auto-settler destruction, which is another way of saying social war, is not a civil war or a revolution [violent insurrection], but boundless social rupture. In other words, power with colonizers has reasonable prerequisites. [emphasis added][21]

In my own experience, many non-Native people have a strong and reflexively antagonistic response to the thought of decolonization. Without much (or often any) consideration of actual Indigenous perspectives, there is a fear that decolonization means a sort of mass deportation or even race war. Social rupture means to destroy the settler as a subject and everything that upholds it. Decolonization doesn’t mean the violent extermination of settlers as individuals; yet for the descendants of settlers to exist on decolonized lands requires a wholesale buying into the idea of auto-settler destruction. Benally’s concept of interrelationality is fundamental to this, this being a solidarity “predicated on building and tearing down direct spatial and temporal relationships.” [21] Interrelationality recognizes that pivotal to advancing decolonization is breaking those cycles of power-over (other humans, non-humans, the Earth, existence, time itself…) which both those who advocate for reform and revolution rarely reject. Moving beyond colonial arrangements of domination can only happen through interrelation, a form of creative destruction.

 

I find it appropriate to insert here the following quote by Fanon, keeping in mind his attention to decolonization:

 

To educate the masses politically does not mean, cannot mean, making a political speech. What it means is to try, relentlessly and passionately, to teach the masses that everything depends on them… that there is no famous man who will take the responsibility for everything, but that the demiurge is the people themselves and the magic hands are finally only the hands of the people. In order to put all this into practice, in order really to incarnate the people, we repeat that there must be decentralization in the extreme [emphasis added]. [23]

It is only decentralized, self-determined, and consciously decolonial praxes that present any hope for us in the so-called US. Though Fanon goes on to say that the “movement from the top to the bottom and from the bottom to the top should be a fixed principle,” I believe it is better to picture decentralization not as an alternative form of hierarchy but rather as an approach grounded in networks of solidarity; in other words, grounded in relationality as described by Benally. This framing goes further in establishing deep solidarity between heterogeneous groups than either strictly top-down or bottom-up approaches.

 

More than anything, we must realize that it will not be—cannot be—Sykes, FRSO, or any other self-identified vanguard party that will teach the masses what revolutionary change means. In the end, Sykes’ article does nothing to strengthen FRSO’s thesis but rather exposes the chauvinism inherent to it. FRSO’s program is not one that can be improved through internal advocacy from members; it is rotten to its core.

 

Mapping an African-American Nation:

 

Similar to FRSO’s idea of Indigenous sovereignty, that of the “African-American nation of the Black-Belt South” fails to move beyond the existing social relations of capitalism-colonialism. Instead, the logic of statism & settler-colonialism is mapped onto the Black population of the United States. I find it essential to consult the analyses of Black anarchists and abolitionists to expose the flaws in FRSO’s line of thinking and show why Black liberation can only exist outside of statist models.

 

FRSO’s demands for the “African-American nation” include:

 

  • Reparations for the descendants of African slaves in the United States
  • Political power through regional and local autonomy for communities of African Americans outside of the African American nation. End gerrymandering of political districts that reduce African American political representation.
  • An end to the war on drugs targeting the African American community, police brutality, killer cops, and all-white juries.
  • Expansion of affirmative action programs and an end to discriminatory testing and entrance requirements for colleges.
  • Increase funding for schools in African American communities
  • Political asylum for African and Caribbean people fleeing repressive governments [2]

 

This set of demands also reads much like a party’s electoral platform, a “progressive” one to be sure, but one that is reformist and not revolutionary. It is unclear how such reforms would eventually lead to breaking the reification spiral of white supremacist institutions. Similar to the impossibility of Indigenous self-determination within the settler-colonial United States, the Black population of the United States cannot be truly free without the abolition of this country—one built on African slavery that continues to benefit from this legacy every day that goes by.

 

Reforms like “an end to the war on drugs [legalisation?], police brutality, killer cops, and all-white juries” are nothing more than empty words. These systems cannot somehow be made just through decrees; they must simply cease to exist. It does not matter how enlightened reforms sound when they’re reforms within a system that has never recognized Black people as equal citizens.

 

As Zoé Samudzi and William C. Anderson point out in As Black as Resistance:

 

Because Africans were forcibly removed from the continent and trafficked to the United States and did not largely participate in the European process of domination (with, of course, notable exception made for the so-called Buffalo Soldiers…), Black people cannot be considered as settlers in the United States. Though we may participate in ongoing settler processes and ultimately benefit from the elimination of Indigenous people and the expropriation of their land, we are not settlers. [24] 

 

Yet despite this historical exclusion from the settler-colonial project, FRSO’s suggestion of “the creation of a Black majoritarian nation-state, where the fate of Indigenous people is ambiguous at best, is an idea rooted in settler logic [emphasis added].” In critiquing the confounding of self-determination with the adoption of settler logic, Samudzi and Anderson ask, “Is settler adjacency what a truly intersectional framework and multifaceted approach to Black liberation entails?” The only reasonable answer to this is a thundering no.

 

According to the example of Israel, the opportunity to become a colonizer is “the ultimate reparation for historical violence.” Because

 

Although popularly positioned as a kind of reparation for… the German Holocaust, the creation of Israel was as an act of European antisemitism in the eyes of some… The establishment of a Jewish homeland meant that antagonistic Western governments—states such as the United States and Allied Powers that were aware of the genocidal violence of Adolf Hitler’s Final Solution but stood idly by and even sought to appease the Nazi government—would not have to receive as many Jewish refugees. Mirroring this in the United States, white supremacists have historically supported the separatist politics of the Nation of Islam. They have seen Black separatism as analogous to the white nationalist “self determining politic” of the white majoritarian United States. Of course, these logics of racial self-determination do not operate the same in reverse.

 

Advocating for an African-American nation in the American South does not actually uproot white supremacy, and in a scenario where the United States is not fully dismantled, it is guaranteed that white supremacy’s roots will remain deep in the cultural soil.

 

It is vital to understand that “[i]f land-based reparations were to be actualized for Black people in the United States, models for land-based liberation that are not both mindful and critical of settler colonialism would perpetuate the expropriation of land from Indigenous communities…” [emphasis added]. A recognition that revolutionary “land politics cannot simply be built on top of centuries-old exterminatory settler logic of Indigenous removal and genocide” points to the need for a total rupture with existing society. The liberation of both Black people in the so-called U.S. and of the land “can only come about through dialogue and co-conspiratorial work with Native communities and a shared understanding of land use outside of capitalistic models of ownership [emphasis added].” [24] It is irrelevant what intentions might motivate FRSO when their proposals are premised on genocidal settler logic.

 

Simply put, it is not and can never be up to the government of the United States to actualize Black liberation; to believe so is both ignorant and racist. FRSO’s fetishism of the state does not allow them to understand such a blatantly obvious truth, despite (or perhaps because of) their claims of strictly following the revolutionary science of Marxism-Leninism.

 

Anti-Blackness is a global scourge, and envisioning a nation whose borders reflect those of the slave-holding American South creates an unnecessary split in the African diaspora. This fact cannot be reconciled by promises to offer asylum to refugees and local autonomy to those outside the borders of the “African American Nation.” [2] As Anderson states in his aptly titled The Nation on No Map:

The people being forced to leave their homes around the world that are a part of the African diaspora pay the price of empire and state violence. People leave the African continent and experience terrifying voyages by boat and otherwise, trying to reach Europe, a region that has, through extraction and plunder, created the intolerable conditions they are fleeing. While the meddling exploitation of states destabilizes, people die in great numbers just trying to survive inside and outside of borders. This forced movement, all of these deaths in the mountains, oceans, seas, and deserts, are not simply news stories that don’t concern us. We are connected to them not just because we’re Black people but also because our respective pasts and oppressed existences share commonalities. These shared understandings of how we’re being exploited are what we need to build from in order to create a global push for a revolutionary uprising. Our continual, global displacement forces our movement in this sense as well [emphasis added]. [25]

 

It is only Black people themselves and those they recognize as accomplices that can create revolutionary change to secure their liberty everywhere. Anderson goes on to soberly explain in the concluding section of this work why it is that genuine Black liberation is inherently antithetical to state power and how it is only possible by looking beyond its fetishisms:

 

Understanding the need to confront the white supremacist state and understand our position as Black people within its confines does not mean we seek out nationality or nationhood. We don’t need to know our exact ancestral origins to know we’re Africans. We don’t have to centralize anything or homogenize ourselves to confront the tragedy that we know as the United States. Be wary of any one-size-fits all rhetoric that glosses over the unfathomable diversity of Black people. Absolutist approaches destroy possibility. Europe drew the map of the world as we know it—a ranked array of nation-states—using the tools of white supremacy and capitalism. We don’t have to use nationhood or nationalism to try to find ourselves on their map. The map, the nation, and the state must go. We did not draw them, and they do not serve us. They never did. To exist on their map in any way can only diminish us and undermine everything that we’re capable of.

The U.S. state isn’t killing us simply because it’s white supremacist: killing is part of the power granted to states, it’s what states do. It’s what they are built for. It’s what their police do, what their militaries do, what their borders do, and what their political parties do. All these things are structured according to the ideas of hierarchical organization and leadership and governance. There is a deadly potential buried in all of them that we must reject. To try to make use of them for “revolutionary” purposes means running toward goals that have nothing to do with true liberation. We must not remain trapped on this map; we must try to draw new lines to sketch out a life for ourselves that their borders, their states, and their map cannot hold.

Our task is to shape a new society, a world we want to live in. In order to do so, we have to do away with the old one. The state will never end state violence, nor will any politics that relies on it. 

…

There’s no avoiding it, the fight that’s all around us. This is a time that requires us to choose freedom from all oppressive formations. The new, liberated future we hope to grasp comes closer to us through the willingness to first hold the truth of where we are now and where we have already been. [all emphasis added]

 

When it comes to the question of Black liberation, the FRSO program isn’t just useless; it’s anti-revolutionary. By mapping a defined African-American nation, possibly well-intentioned but naive self-proclaimed radicals only preserve the social relations built on slavery and settler-colonialism. It’s clear that abolition is the only revolutionary option there is.

 

A Critique of Aztlán & Chicano Nationalism:

 

An essential part of FRSO’s program and its demands for what they call oppressed nations is the recognition of a so-called Chicano homeland in the Southwest, also known as Aztlán. To subscribe to this narrative and suggest that this territory (roughly comprising that which so-called Mexico lost with the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo) should be considered a Chicano nation is to spread ideas that are detrimental to the struggle for Indigenous peoples’ self-determination all under the guise of decolonial solidarity. As an anti-nationalist Chicano, I believe it is important to critique the narrative of Aztlán more broadly.

 

The so-called United States and so-called Mexico are both products of genocidal settler-colonialism. Any project whose basis hinges on the borders, current and/or previous, of settler colonial states restricts itself to the framework and the social relations of the systems that bred them. Many Chicanos cling to their mixed heritage as a biologistic representation of their indigeneity, failing to see that such a heritage in no way legitimizes claims to land in the Southwest. For us Chicanos, it is important that we not only understand our history but are also able to place it within a larger context; to deny Aztlán nationalism is not to deny one’s indigenous ancestry outright but to reject the maintenance of social relations that deny self-determination for Indigenous peoples today.

 

FRSO’s adoption of the Aztlán narrative speaks to the fact that much contemporary Chicano cultural production has focused on the topic of decolonization, taking as a starting pointh the belief that we as Chicanos are a colonized people. Sanchez and Pita remind us that though it is true that we are the product of colonial projects, these discourses forget (extremely ironically so) the role that our ancestors played as colonizers. It is a historical fact that

 

Whether the colonizers in what is now the US Southwest were Spaniards, criollos, mestizos, or even Indigenous peoples like the Tlaxcaltecas, they all came from the interior of New Spain (now Mexico) in the name and in the service of the Spanish crown… to dispossess the natives of what would become the US Southwest. [26]

 

Even if we have eventually found ourselves on the receiving end of subsequent dispossessions, “we have developed a selective amnesia for our role in the colonization of the native people of the Southwest; our own role in the subjugation and exploitation of Indigenous peoples and, in some cases, [their] massacre.” Though it is true that the three successive settler-colonial projects in this region (the Spanish, Mexican, and American) each have their own particularities, we cannot ignore the basic commonality of their motivations—exploitation and dispossession—simply because we find ourselves being victimized by the contemporary American colonial project.

 

Maria Eugenia Cotera and Maria Josefina Saldaña-Portillo’s essay “Indigenous But Not Indian? Chicana/os and the Politics of Indigeneity” recounts how

In the Fall of 2005 the University of New Mexico hosted an international symposium, ‘Indigenous Peoples of the Americas: Conflict, Resistance, & Peace Making”… to find solutions to the ‘problems faced by Indigenous Peoples in areas such as culture, education, health, human rights, environment and socio-economic development’… [Some] local Native peoples, led by the Tricentennial Truth Alliance (TTA), called for a boycott… A statement, read by Mairis Chino (Acoma Pueblo)… drew boundaries of demarcation between legitimate indigenous subjects and those who sought to claim Indigeneity to further their own political claims for state and international recognition… While the TTA statement acknowledged that ‘there were honorable indigenous Brothers and Sisters’ participating… it also questioned the inclusion of Chicanos… who, the statement claimed, were ‘opportunistically’ deploying ‘a false representation of Indigenous values and issues’ in order to ‘promote their personal political self interests to the detriment of Indian land, culture, and communities. [27]

 

The TTA went on to state that to them,

 

Indigenous means the original inhabitants of North, Central and South America who continue to exist as a tribal community with a land base. Existing as a tribal community includes language, tribal government, and recognition as Indigenous People by other indigenous people and non-indigenous people. By these terms the Indo-Hispano, Chicano, Mestizo do not have identity as Indigenous People [emphasis added].

 

Though in the context of the UNM symposium these remarks were powerful and likely necessary, it is also true that this definition of indigenous outright opposes the notion that Chicanos can claim any relationship with indigeneity. As Cotero and Saldaña-Portillo recognize, “[t]his formulation of the non-indigenous ‘ethnic’ Chicana/o subject relie[s] on an implicit acceptance of the borders of the nation-state, effectively ignoring the complex lived realities of indigenous communities whose nations have historically crossed the U.S./Mexico border.” By naming the existence of a tribal government (and thus official recognition by the US federal government) as one of the qualifiers of being a tribal community, this framework is one that not only incorporates settler-colonial structures but also recognizes their ultimate authority. Furthermore, the authors state that these “standards do not necessarily concord with understandings of indigeneity in Quito, Huehuetenango, or Oaxaca,” where “the assimilative directives of colonial regimes and, later, national projects, have resulted in very different formulations.” Chicanos are not a case of outright inventing a historical connection to indigeneity but rather the product of a long history of racial mixing resulting in genetically indigenous subjects who came to identify with the Mexican nation-state instead of with any particular indigenous community.

 

And yet, Mexican mestizos maintained real existing connections with Indigenous communities; self-identification with post-Independence Mexico did not in itself “preclude a psychic and cultural connection to indigeneity.” Cotero and Saldaña-Portillo conclude that Chicanos occupy “a complex position between ‘settlers’ and ‘Indians,’ or, perhaps… a position as both indigenous and settler.” This reality of existing at both ends of the settler/indigenous binary is a result of the history of not only so-called Mexico generally but also what now constitutes the space claimed as Aztlán more specifically.

 

By the time of the US-Mexico War, mestizos in the northern borderlands would have identified with their Indigenous neighbors, to whom they were related to through “familial, economic, political, and now by national” ties. [27] This can largely be traced back to the fact that

 

unlike their British counterparts… Spanish colonizers invariably settled adjacent to indigenous villages and towns, grafting their own forms of government atop indigenous governments, their own economies atop indigenous economies, and seeking out close associations with indigenous peoples.

 

Mestizaje was not only the invariable outcome of this mode of colonial space-making along the northern frontier; it was also the condition of possibility for its conquest. Mestizos and afromestizos from Mexico’s interior participated in the conquest of the entire northern frontier in great numbers, making up between 10 and 40 percent of most of the conquesting population. They correctly perceived the outposts as a space where the casta system [the racial and social hierarchy of the Spanish Empire] would not be so rigidly observed… [27]

 

Robert Archibald points out that

 

Despite seemingly arbitrary ethnic classifications and an economic hierarchy which roughly followed ethnic lines, colonial New Mexico [where most inhabitants of the region lived] was not a closed society. Marriage and economic success were certain roads to improved status. The transitory stature of Indian and genizaro [detribalized Native] classifications indicate a highly effective means of Hispanicizing, Christianizing and ultimately incorporating native peoples into New Mexican society. [28]

 

This reality of ties to indigeneity and their place within society in the northern borderlands was incompatible with the American white supremacist understanding of citizenship. To the Americans annexing this territory, “Mexicans could not be Indians and Indians could not be Mexicans.” [27] It was this rupture that later produced a condition that Cotero and Saldaña-Portillo call “mestizo mourning,” the mourning of the loss of a historical relationship with Indigenous people. Mexican-American mestizos in the United States mourn this ancestry “foreclosed to them–not by biological relationship… but by U.S. statecraft and racial nationalism.” And so when Chicanos claim to have an indigenous heritage, they do so “not merely as an appropriative gesture of Native tribal identity, but rather as a psychic restoration of an indigenous past denied to them by exigencies of U.S. colonial history and law.”

 

Due to these experiences, it is not surprising that Chicanos would turn to a historical relationship with indigeneity in an effort to address the reality of being a product of multiple settler colonial projects. Cotero and Saldaña-Portillo go on to point out that “Chicana/o indigenism cannot be reduced to a settler fantasy” given its original impulse of mestizo mourning.

 

This is where it is important to stress that though many, perhaps even most, Chicanos are indeed partly Indigenous by blood, heritage does not imply a connection and therefore a legitimate claim to land. This is true even if one can trace their own family back to the Southwest pre-annexation (though most Chicanos today descend from people who migrated north of the current borderline beginning in the early 20th century, anyway).

 

It is also of chief importance to understand the place of mestizaje and indigenismo [an ideology emphasizing the relationship between Indigenous peoples and the nation-state] as concepts within the Mexican nationalist project of the 20th century and trace this to its contemporary implications.

 

As Saldaña-Portillo points out in her article “Who’s the Indian in Aztlan?,” in the context of a developing post-revolutionary Mexican identity, “the ‘black’ and ‘yellow’ aspects of the cosmic race [a theorized race resulting from the agglomeration of all others] were systematically forgotten as mestizo identity was reduced to a Spanish and Indian binary,” an identity that “remains disturbingly hierarchical.” Within the mestizo identity, “it is always Indian cultural traits that are negative [and] must be eliminated or subsumed to the ‘national’ culture of mestizaje.” [30] According to Lourdes Alberto, indigenismo and the mestizaje it laid the groundwork for “ultimately ensured the disappearance of contemporary indigenous populations, as they were no longer seen as a part of Mexico’s present and future; rather, they were frozen in an ancient past symbolizing Mexico’s raw ethnic roots.” [29] In other words, “the current ideology of mestizaje incorporates the historical figure of the Indian only to, in effect, exclude contemporary Indians from modernization.” [30] This critique necessitates that we “reconsider first the national deployment of mestizaje as a trope for citizenship, and second, the transnational deployment of mestizaje as the presumed intersection between Mexican indigenous identity and Chicana/o identity.” This mapping of mestizaje exposes the major contradictions that exist between contemporary Indigenous peoples and Chicanos, highlighting the need to move beyond a deeply problematic Chicano nationalism.

 

Within the United States, the Chicano movement in the early 70s appropriated the discourse of mestizaje at the same time that Aztlán was claimed as an indigenous nation that existed prior to the founding of the United States. In that period, Aztlán was a place from which to critique the discrimination against Chicanos within American society. This new nationalism

 

functioned as succor for Chicanos within a U.S. ethnoracial framework that had enacted a long history of violence against Mexican Americans, including mass deportation, lynching, quotidian racism, land dispossession, language elimination, nativism, and police abuse. While Chicano nationalist discourses resulted from strategies of empowerment, nationalism gathered its rhetorical legitimacy from indigenist practices. [29] 

 

This movement was formulated under the specter of indigenismo’s complex history; thus, by adopting the tropes of mestizaje and indigenismo, Chicanos continued to operate within the logic to which these belong. As a result, Chicanos have often prioritized recuperating their own indigenous past instead of supporting Indigenous peoples struggling in the present; a fetishized indigeneity means that Chicano nationalists place their own biological lineage above existing cultural ones. As Alberto says, it is “[p]recisely because the apparatus of indigenism remains a threat to indigenous culture, indigenous history, indigenous epistemologies, and indigenous self-determination [that] by adopting indigenist poetics, Chicanos’ and Chicanas’ uses of indigeneity [are] viewed as an extension of a colonial practice.”

 

As Chicanos, we must realize that

 

In mestizaje, we are reduced to searching for signs of our indigenous past and, more significantly, for a collective political future in some inherent tie to the land… To recognize this process is not to deny our indigenous ancestry; rather, to recognize this is to refuse to reduce indigenous subjectivity, and indeed Mexican mestizo identity, to biologistic representation that, in discursive and political terms, always already places the Indian under erasure [emphasis added]. [30]

 

Thus, looking beyond an identity that temporally restricts us to a modern framework of colonial borders and an overemphasizing of biological heritage, we as Chicanos must extend solidarity to Indigenous peoples across the Americas who practice and maintain (continually evolving) cultural traditions that date to a time before European property relations.

 

Noche succinctly states in “Contra Aztlán” that though “Chicanxs are the historical product of colonialism, racism, capitalism, slavery, genocide and cultural erasure,” and that “[p]art of the struggle to liberate Chicanxs (and all people) would inevitably incorporate the reclaiming of lost ancient ways,” our own struggle for liberation “cannot overtake the struggle of Native peoples who have managed to maintain a direct connection to their deep past & present.” Fundamentally, we must recognize that “Indigeneity is more than genetic heritage, it is a real cultural link [emphasis added].” [31]

 

Ultimately, Aztlán nationalism is not a movement for liberation; it is just another obstacle in the way of ridding ourselves of oppressive social relations. It is an excuse for Chicanos to adopt colonial narratives and seek to “decolonize” them, ignoring that to decolonize colonialism is an oxymoron.

 

The Chicano-nationalist obsession with the “Chicano homeland” of Aztlán is one that denies the primacy of the struggle for decolonization and Indigenous peoples’ obviously central role within it. As for FRSO, promoting an unfounded narrative like that of Aztlán is just another example of buying into the fetishisms rooted in our society rather than working to eliminate them. The (once again) growing popularity of the Aztlán narrative and its pseudo-revolutionary rhetoric is one we must actively push back against in order to advance the decolonial struggle.

 

A Revolutionary Alternative

As stated at the beginning of this essay, the FRSO program does not challenge but instead perpetuates colonial structures, conflates socialism with state-capitalism, and generally promotes flawed anti-revolutionary narratives. The resurgence of Marxist-Leninist organizations like FRSO forces us to contend with the influence they might hold and the implications of the dogma they preach. That FRSO members continue to espouse the deficient analyses from their program in the face of more nuanced ones speaks to the danger of deluding oneself with an illusory “scientific” reasoning. The building of a better world cannot be achieved by advocating for models and practices rooted in the current one. We must look beyond the promises of counter-hegemony, let go of fetishized identities, and look to the future as the source of our poetry; to once and for all move beyond positivist-vanguard fantasies that cannot help us construct alternative and liberating communities. Only in negation may we find our liberation.

 

Negating the Hegemony of Hegemony with an Affinity for Affinity:

 

FRSO’s definitions and analyses of “Socialism” and “Monopoly Capitalism” lead them to believe that a so-called dictatorship of the proletariat is the only possible solution, the scientific solution, to global oppression. The danger in this is that such an argument amounts to seeking to replace one form of hegemony with another. To do so is to perpetuate what Richard J. F. Day calls the “hegemony of hegemony… the assumption that effective social change can only be achieved simultaneously and en masse, across an entire national or supranational space” [32]. This assumption places a hard limit on how truly revolutionary FRSO’s program can be.

 

Gramsci describes hegemony as a process that “manifests itself in two ways, as ‘domination’ and as ‘intellectual and moral leadership.’ A social group dominates antagonistic groups, which it tends to ‘liquidate,’ or to subjugate perhaps even by armed force; it leads kindred and allied groups.” [33] This certainly describes the goal of any statist model, including the Leninist one—proletarian dictatorship being a synonym for proletarian (party) hegemony. Leninism posits replacing capitalist hegemony with its own as both desirable and revolutionary.

 

According to Day, the only way to break out of the trap of hegemony is to operate non-hegemonically as opposed to counter-hegemonically. [32] In contrast to approaches that describe a revolutionary future community in monolithic fashion, we should “think instead of the coming communities, in the plural, but not in the form of liberal pluralism”; as such, “we need to guide our relations with other communities according to interlocking ethico-political commitments of groundless solidarity and infinite responsibility.” Upholding the hegemony of hegemony cannot lead to the death of capitalism and the creation of better alternatives; only self-determined social relations can. Day calls this negation of hegemony an affinity for affinity: a championing of “non-universalizing, non-hierarchical, non-coercive relationships based [on] mutual aid and shared ethical commitments.” A logic of affinity stresses building solidarity between struggles without making any one subservient to another—without creating a hierarchy of hierarchies.

 

The fundamental flaw of FRSO’s program is its presentation of a supposedly revolutionary goal under the guise of objective scientific analysis, which is at its core based in the fetishisms of existing social relations and a logic of hegemony. If one truly wishes to “change humanity itself” [2], one must think non-hegemonically, or alternatively, as Jason Adams says, post-hegemonically. [34] We seek to change forms, not just content.

 

Marquis Bey says that if we are to operate in the vein of Marx’s call for a “ruthless criticism of all that exists,” then our “critical praxis and its theoretical heft [must be] a ruthless interrogation of the established and institutionalized.” [35] In this way, “[c]ritical praxis becomes a radical invitation to not only do but to be done by the undercommon insurgency that makes its own demands [emphasis added].” Fundamentally, such a praxis must suspend the presumption of an end goal. In aiming to create self-determined communities, we cannot restrict ourselves to replacing one hegemon with another:

Because we cannot, and must not assume that the logics and rubrics we have when moving within the maelstrom of the hegemonic—radically altered as they may be—can operate to our benefit… We will need new rubrics and metrics, unrubrics and unmetrics, because a radically other-world requires radically other means to love it, to caress it, to be all the way in it [emphasis added].

The unrubrics and unmetrics of non-hegemony, an affinity of affinity—these are the means to the end of revolutionary possibilities. Only through them can we shed the traditions of dead generations that weigh like a nightmare on the brains of the living and find a new source for our revolutionary poetry.

 

Identity and Dignity, or Taking our Poetry from the Future:

 

Marx states in his 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte that:

 

The social revolution of the nineteenth century cannot take its poetry from the past but only from the future. It cannot begin with itself before it has stripped away all superstition about the past. The former revolutions required recollections of past world history in order to smother their own content. The revolution of the nineteenth century must let the dead bury their dead in order to arrive at its own content. There the phrase went beyond the content—here the content goes beyond the phrase. [36]

 

All one needs to change is the century, and this quote remains as relevant today as it was then. Our revolutionary poetry cannot limit itself to that which stems from existing relations—it must be found in social rupture, which seeks to move, as Holloway says, against-and-beyond them.

 

For Holloway, the key to this is understanding the difference between the abstract labor (or simply “labor”) that capitalism is built upon and concrete labor (or “doing”) and why we must free the latter from the former. Though both are forms of doing, they differ immensely in their substance:

One form of doing, labour, creates capital, the basis of the society that is destroying us. Another form of doing, what [Holloway calls] simply ‘doing’, pushes against the creation of capital and towards the creation of a different society. In both cases, our doing [human creation] is at the centre. By focusing on doing, we put our own power at the centre of our understanding of society: our power-to-do (and therefore, our power not to do, and our power to do differently)… [This argument] is not for ‘more democracy’ but for a radical reorganisation of our daily activity, without which the call for ‘more democracy’ means nothing at all. [37]

 

While it is true that the deprivation of self-determined doing is what we struggle against, this process can be attributed to an even more fundamental dichotomy than that of abstract labor and concrete labor, one of dispossessed doing and self-determined doing. Misogyny, heterosexism, and enslavement are only some examples of dispossession that long predate the capitalist abstraction of labor and its current function as social mediator. Put simply, dispossession is the negation of self-determination—the creation of hierarchy. Holloway’s description above accurately describes the dynamic of the capitalist economy and our compulsion to labor within it, but he goes on to claim that it is this abstraction of labor that is the source of all other identities as we know them. Though contemporary identities all bear the scars of centuries of forced integration into the capitalist system, and it is only within this context that we have all experienced identification, it is to the more general process of dispossession that we can credit their origin. Being rooted in non-hegemony doesn’t mean rejecting or diminishing the need for class struggle, but recognizing that while it is an essential axis of struggle today, it is not the central axis—there is no such thing. What Holloway calls doing isn’t limited in its scope to pushing back against the abstraction of labor but more broadly against the reified hierarchies that all negate self-determined doing.

 

Understanding that identification is a process of negation allows us to consider how this negation might itself be negated, beginning the restoration of our dignity. What is significant about our identities is not the way that they define what we are, but how they, above all, define what we are not (and cannot do). The ability of hierarchies to endure demands that this be the case. And so in aiming to negate these, we should “start not from the stillness of identity but from the moving of non- or, better, anti-identity. We start dialectically, but not with a dialectic understood as interaction but rather as the negative restlessness of misfitting, of insufficiency.” [37] The large focus in this essay on critiquing FRSO’s ideas regarding those identified as workers, Black, Indigenous, Chicano, etc. does not originate in a want to make these connected yet distinct struggles the be-all-end-all of our politics, but rather in seeing these (anti-)identities as springboards for building a new and better world—a world with dignity, a world where we can choose what we do. As Day points out,

 

a politics of affinity… is not about abandoning identification as such; it is about abandoning the fantasy that fixed, stable identities are possible and desirable, that one identity is better than another, that superior identities deserve more of the good and less of the bad that a social order has to offer, and that the state form should act as the arbiter of who gets what [emphasis added]. [32]

 

It might be helpful to consider here the difference between what Max Stirner calls qualities, which are the “property” of the self, owned and defined by us (beings that are ever in flux), and essences, “something alien” that “exists above and behind things,” an externalized regulative power. [38] Though while Stirner seems to suggest that the individual is the source of unique qualities, it might be better to think of qualities as continually (re)cultivated through self-determined doing and interaction. Where essentialist identities prescribed onto us by a “normalized world of self-referentiality” tend towards staticity and negate our ability to self-determine, owned qualities, on the other hand, are “continually reinvented and restated so that they do not become hardened and frozen into a recuperable shape.” [3] An affinity for affinity in conjunction with a framework of anti-identity allows us to move beyond a politics of demand, one that seeks to improve our lived experiences “by appealing to the benevolence of hegemonic forces and/or by altering the relations between these forces” [32], and towards communities that empower us to choose. This also avoids the class-centrism of organizations like FRSO, which precludes the conditions necessary for a groundless solidarity.

 

We can extend Day’s politics of affinity both in breadth and depth by considering Benally’s previously mentioned interrelationality, through which “our solidarity is projected out from our relationship with the Earth.” This way “[o]ur solidarity focuses on more than just intersections” with each other, going beyond the anthropocentricity of intersectionality and also considering our relations with “non-human beings, spirits, and Mother Earth.” [21] Dissolving those parts of our identities that prevent us from relating enables us to build communities that draw strength not just from each other but existence more broadly, expanding possibilities far beyond our imaginations and existing models rooted in domination.

 

When we accept ourselves as truly and totally bound by the identities that capitalist society has branded us with, we remain unable to move beyond their limits. Holloway posits “dignity” in contrast to reified identification, calling it “a leaping, gliding, swinging, dancing, never a marching: and that, for capital, is hard to follow and absorb.” [37]

 

Capitán Insurgente Marcos (formerly known as Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos) once said in a speech that in the wake of centuries of capitalist domination “we are being left with nothing. Except rage. And dignity… [These] are our bridges, our languages” [emphasis added]. [39] If rage and dignity are bridges, then programs based in fetishisms are broken tracks leading nowhere. This does not mean

 

that there is some trans-historical quality of dignity: dignity is nothing other than the struggle against and beyond its own negation… [It] does not mean that we hope one day to arrive at a pre-existing dignity, but that dignity is itself an exploration, a shifting process of creating social relations against-and-beyond capital. [37]

 

In demanding dignity, we demand self-determined doing. Taking dignity and interrelation as the bases of our anticapitalist movement(s) means to take our poetry from the future. We must not cling to a world which leaves no room for true agency, because quite simply, as Marcos says, “[i]f this world doesn’t have a place for us, then another world must be made.” [39]

 

In their calls for the building of a new movement that plainly asserts the goal of preserving fetishized identities and of subordinating all to the hegemonizing class-struggle, FRSO ignorantly promotes goals that entrap that movement within the existing logic of capital and, by implication, perpetuate

 

the reification of social relations, the reproduction of the hierarchy between men and women and the dimorphisation of sexuality, the objectification of nature, the acceptance of the capitalist concept, and above all, the orientation towards the state and the idea of influencing the state or taking state power. [37]

 

In FRSO’s praxis, not only do these go fundamentally unchallenged, but in a way they are strengthened by their ability to attract self-proclaimed radicals to their banners, convincing them that maintaining their own (and more importantly others’) oppression is in some way revolutionary.

 

It is not a matter of denying the centrality of oppressed groups/identities in anticapitalist struggles, but rather about what perspective one approaches struggle with. This is why the necessity of action based in negation must be stressed. Simply put, “The difference is between an identification that stops there and an identification that negates itself in the process of identifying.” Just as Stirner claims: “I am really Man and the un-man in one; for I am a man and at the same time more than a man,” [38] we should strive to continually break down all normative logic embedded in our identities.

 

Thus: “To say ‘we are indigenous’ in a society that systematically denies the dignity of the indigenous is a way of asserting dignity, of negating the negation of dignity, of saying ‘we are indigenous and more than that’.” [3] Taking this a step further:

 

The drive of anti-identity is a constant movement beyond the concept [the content going beyond the phrase, in Marx’s words], it constantly goes beyond our conscious knowledge… [Revolution] cannot be thought of in terms of the bringing of consciousness to people… The politics of bringing consciousness is part of the world of character masks, the world of identities [and the world of hegemonic power]… It is much more a question of drawing out that which is already present in repressed and contradictory form… This implies a politics not of talking, but of listening, or, better, of talking-listening … This is a dialogical politics rather than the monological talking-politics of the traditional revolutionary movement. [37]

 

Describing what a revolutionary future looks like is not simply unproductive; it is in no way able to inform us on the subject. In the world we have grown up in, it is impossible to even fathom what we as individuals and as collectives might be capable of. It is certain that no enlightened minority can simply lay this out for us in a political program.

 

Self-liberation is just that, a liberation of the self, an internal process. Critiquing our fetishized identities is not about denying the way we have been shaped by our lived experiences within capitalism, but about taking this power away from it. As Marx says, we live in a “topsy-turvy world,” one in which our subjectivity is concealed by reified relations. Our goals must be informed by those practices that can lead us from fetishized identity to a dignified existence outside any hegemonic system.

 

Against His-story, Against Positivisation:

 

According to Werner Bonefeld,

 

The difficulty in conceiving of the society of the free and equal has to do with its very idea. In distinction to the pursuit of abstract wealth, of value in process, money in process and as such capital, and in distinction to seizure of the state, pursuit and preservation of political power, economic value and factor efficiency, and in distinction to the idea of labour as the natural necessity of social wealth and conception of the economic as an economy of labour, it follows a completely different entelechy of human development – it seeks the society of human purposes, universal human emancipation [emphasis added]. [40]

Reflecting this contradistinction: “The wealth of the communist individuals and the wealth of capitalist society belong to two different realities. For the society of the free and equal social wealth is free time” [emphasis added]. Whether we call this source of social wealth “time for enjoyment” as Marx does or “freely disposable time” like Adorno, the wealth of communist society is above all characterized by self-determined doing and the satisfaction of human beings. It is because of this key difference that “[t]he society of human purposes stands in opposition to all hitherto history. Its achievement entails that the progress of this history comes to a standstill so that society can be found anew” [emphasis added]. No matter the language chosen to describe it, such a condition can undoubtedly only exist outside of history as we know it. The problem with “revolutionary” perspectives rooted in positivization is that they are inherently incapable of halting such an ostensibly progressive march of history. In absolute contradiction to their proclaimed purpose, they cannot manifest a society that hinges on human needs—on dignity. These perspectives perpetuate the false promise that proper economic planning and development will liberate us from the dispossession of our doing. Critical theory and praxis is only critical as far as it “resists this falseness, refusing to be taken in by a philosophy of progress that in its entirety is tied to existing social relations”; it cannot enable and legitimize things to continue as they are. Above all, our critical theory’s conception of society must be entirely negative.

 

According to Adorno, “to negate a negation does not bring about its reversal… What is negated is negative until it has passed.” [41] Negation is not a method to be applied to existing relations in hopes of reforming them: the negation of negation does not lead to positivity; negation must mean to move against-and-beyond. For us, this means that capitalist relations and identities, bounded as they are by what we are not (able to do), cannot be transformed into positive and liberatory ones. As such, “[t]here is no vantage point [within existing relations] from which to launch the society of human purposes [emphasis added]. The society of human purposes is not the hidden secret of the capitalist social relations. Rather, its hidden secret is the force of the law-making violence of expropriation that divorced the mass of the population from the means of subsistence.” [40] FRSO’s vanguardism cannot lead to a dignified life; their perspective too represents this expropriative violence that deprives us of self-determined doing. We must turn to a critical praxis that

rejects the idea of revolution as a revolution for the freedom of labour as regressive, denies that bourgeois society contains within itself the necessity of human emancipation, opposes the notion of historical progress for the benefit of the working class as a ‘conformist rebellion’… that… instead of ending slavery, seeks a new deal for slaves. 

Capitalist society does not find its positive resolution “in better-paid and fully employed producers” but only in the dissolution of property and alienating means of production in themselves. Critical theory is not a “theoretical expression of the soul of the social forces” but instead “aims at these forces themselves” in order not to positivize but to abolish them.

 

In contrast to this, FRSO’s historical materialism leads “practice [to become] nonconceptual… a piece of the politics it was supposed to lead out of; it [becomes] the prey of power.” We cannot appropriate the tools of oppression and expect them to lead us somewhere beyond it; such is a logic based on non sequiturs. We aim for revolution, not reification.

 

Bonefeld says that “[o]nly a reified consciousness” can claim to have the proper knowledge to solve the crises wrought by capitalism and further to do so on behalf of those deprived of self-determined doing. In truth, this reified consciousness’ “grasp of reality is entirely abstract and its assertion to know what to do is groundless.” Vanguardism is but another deprivation of the self-determination that we seek. A reified consciousness abandons the possibility of revolutionary change and with it the insight that oppressive hierarchies can never be negated “by means of state.” Resulting from this failure to reject reified consciousness, FRSO’s program suggests that statist intervention in the economy will somehow lead to a society of human purpose, despite the reality that within any commodity economy, human needs are never the fulcrum upon which resolutions rest. We cannot have faith in political parties, in historical progress, or in any revolution defined by programs; to do so is to once again set ourselves up for dissapointment. We must only follow the call of our resounding “No!”—our rejection of reification, our demand for an end to progress and modernity as we have known it.

 

In painting a picture of the pitfalls of historical continuity, I find it helpful to quote at length from Bonefeld’s conclusion to his exploration Critical Theory and the Critique of Political Economy:

History does not unfold. It takes no side…. The purpose of capitalism is the profitable accumulation of abstract wealth for its own sake. The commune of human purpose is not an existing human purpose. Its reality is entirely negative. History appears as a linear sequence of events… This appearance is real but by itself, devoid of meaning. What does it really mean to say that history is a sequence of events? Events of what, and what was so eventful? History appears as a transcendent force of progress only when one abstracts from it, leading to its description as a sequence of events, for which the terms ‘historicity’ provides the name. Historicity comprises the idea of history without history. That is to say, in order to comprehend history, one needs to ‘crack’ the appearance of history as a sequence of events.

One needs thus to think out of history, out of the battles for freedom, slave insurrections, peasant revolts, the struggles of Les Enragés, working class strikes, riots, insurrections and revolutions, to appreciate the traditions of the oppressed, recognize the smell of danger and the stench of death, gain a sense of the courage and cunning of struggle, grasp the spirit of sacrifice, comprehend however fleetingly the density of a time at which the progress of the muck of ages almost came to a standstill. History does not lead anywhere; it has no telos, no objectives, no purpose and it does not take sides. At its worst, it continues on the path of victorious progress under darkened clouds and smoke-filled skies. At best, its progress will be stopped. Such history has not been made yet, though it has often been attempted. [40]

 

If we dare attempt to stop this progress, we must acknowledge that the oppressed don’t “struggle for the progress of oppression—this really is the business of the ‘overlords’ of history.” If our cardinal goal is to replace one hegemon with another, then the continuum of history will never be broken. Within the recipes of domination, we will never find a “secret reality that points beyond the existing social relations… The resolution to the dialectical context of immanence is that context itself.” As Bonefeld plainly states, “‘The whole is false.’ The whole has to go” [emphasis added]. Only with the absolute negation of oppressive relations can we build something truly new and liberating.

 

Notably, Bonefeld himself claims that “the proletariat is the name of the oppressed class of our time” and that the end of “progress” can only come once this class ceases to exist, as “[f]or Marx, the struggle against oppression is the struggle of the last oppressed class.” While I agree that “the whole [of society] must go,” Bonefeld’s proletarian class-centrism too finds itself ensnared within a hegemonic logic that exists within this whole, despite its negative formulation. Letting go of Marxism’s limited conception of oppression-as-class is also a prerequisite for liberation and the negation of all forms of disposession. As Benally says in a previously quoted section, to focus on the economic is to fail to “indict the consolidation of power as an expression of modernity” [21] more broadly.

 

FRSO claims their chief aspiration to be “a society without classes—communism,” this “classless society [being] a long-term project” [2]; yet it is clear that however long this term might be, their purported goal is located somewhere along the continued progression of history. Though Sykes denies believing that “every society should proceed everywhere in the same linear way, through the same set of metaphysically distinct, predetermined stages,” at a higher level of abstraction, FRSO still holds it to be true that “socialism has to be understood as developing through stages [emphasis added],” [4] an inherently linear framing. We must reject this narrative that embraces the progress of civilization, one whose history has proven that, in all its forms,

 

Civilization has no relatives, only captives… It fashions its years and seconds into an anemic prison. It has shaped time into the most exquisite of weapons, obliterating memories, killing cycles. Its essence is time. The temporal and spacial imposition of awareness is the oblivion that is modernity and linear, or one-way time. [21]

 

To reach a world beyond existing social relations, we must manifest a rupture with them. Like Benally says, our choice today is between “either liv[ing] as translucent characters in colonial fantasies, or outside of the temporal constraints of settler time, where we are most whole.” It is not a matter of transcending to a higher stage but of rejecting a formula of stages outright. We fight for a life worth living, not more efficient productive forces. If we hope to ever see a world not defined by the destructive logic of statist-colonial-capitalism, it is necessary to look beyond vanguardism and positivism, towards a world of unknowable possibilities.

 

Beyond Vanguardism:

 

FRSO’s program shows us that more than a century on from the October Revolution, many Marxists have yet to learn basic lessons. Lenin, in a 1913 article, stated:

 

We are constantly making the mistake in Russia of judging the slogans and tactics of a certain party or group, of judging its general trend, by the intentions or motives that the group claims for itself. Such judgement is worthless. The road to hell—as was said long ago—is paved with good intentions.

It is not a matter of intentions, motives or words but of the objective situation, independent of them, that determines the fate and significance of slogans, of tactics or, in general, of the trend of a given party or group [emphasis added]. [42]

 

Clearly this is not an issue specific to early 20th-century Russia. Lenin was correct in his assessment, somewhat ironically, given the course of Soviet history and its judgment by most Leninists. It matters little that FRSO claims their program is a product of applying a “revolutionary science”; the slogans, tactics, and general theses of the organization do not serve to advance a revolutionary cause. The FRSO program is one (un)grounded in fetishism, blind to its obvious flaws; as such, it is a dead end.

 

Nitzan & Bichler propose in Capital as Power that we should reframe our understanding of capitalism as being a mode of power rather than simply a mode of production. [43] They say that hierarchical social orders are better understood this way, that “[e]very mode of power, whether based on slavery, feudalism or capitalization, has its own particular configuration,” and though it is true that each of these “depends on production… production as such is merely part of the story of power.” In this analysis, “The capitalist mega-machine defines the capitalist mode of power; and a mode of power… constitutes the ‘state’ of society.” Capitalism has thus penetrated, altered, and become the state, what they call “the state of capital.”

 

Contrasted with the typical definition of the state, their notion

 

is broader and more flexible… [and] transcends the analytical distinction between economics and politics… [which] may be valid when viewed from below and at lower levels of abstraction… [but can] be very misleading when considered from above and in relation to the overall architecture of power.” 

 

Thus there is no sharp distinction “between ‘economic power’ and ‘political power’, between ‘exploitation’ and ‘oppression’, or between the ‘power of the market’ versus the ‘power of the state’.” And although the forms of power can vary, all hierarchical power structures ultimately constitute “a single nomos of power.” Crucially, this “nomos of power is not fixed. It changes as the social order evolves…” The state should not be thought of as an abstract “eternal Newtonian space” whose actors are simply replaced over time. Rather, it is a “historically constituted Leibnitzian space,” a structure of power that itself constantly evolves and is shaped by the “concrete entities and relationships that comprise it.” The state is far from just “a special organization of force” as Lenin claimed [44]; it is not a thing to be wielded but a condition to be overcome.

 

According to Bonefeld, the modern capitalist state “is charged with depoliticizing” the relationships between oppressors and oppressed by “concentrating the political character of bourgeois society.” [40] Essentially, the “state is no independent being… [but] the political form of the bourgeois relationships of coined freedom… The political state is the state of social depoliticization.” In recognition of this reality, Marx argues in his Critique of the Gotha Program that the idea of “equal rights” can in truth only be “a right of inequality” in a society of unequal individuals. [45] This bourgeois conception of equal rights is in no way eliminated with the replacement of private (individual) property with state property but is strengthened by its illusion of having moved beyond capitalist relations and achieved true proletarian equality through the so-called socialist state. Nationalization in the USSR and the Soviet Constitution of 1936’s inclusion of a supposed “[e]quality of rights of citizens… irrespective of their nationality or race, in all spheres of economic, state, cultural, social and political life” [46] did little to abolish oppressive (bourgeois) social relations.

 

Marx and Engels themselves say in The German Ideology that:

the proletarians, if they are to assert themselves as individuals, will have to abolish the very condition of their existence hitherto (which has, moreover, been that of all society up to the present), namely, labour. Thus they find themselves directly opposed to the form in which, hitherto, the individuals, of which society consists, have given themselves collective expression, that is, the State. In order, therefore, to assert themselves as individuals, they must overthrow the State [emphasis addded]. [47]

 

In destroying the conditions of our oppression and reclaiming self-determined doing, there is no statist path. In contrast to the Marxist view, however, we must reject the Hegelian assumption of a universalized historic progression. Instead, an affinity for affinity grounded in interrelationality and a rejection of so-called progress should guide our critical praxis.

 

If we take up Nitzan and Bichler’s framing and apply it to the United States, it becomes clear that this megamachine has adapted and evolved in ways that have moved beyond previous fetters limiting its growth. From the seeds of slavery and colonialism, it has continually warped and evolved into the ultimate form of Leviathan. Its universal, ever-expanding, and absorptive qualities make it the most flexible power structure in history. This is our enemy.

 

For a future of liberated living in harmony with each other and existence more broadly to be possible, we must slay this monster. We cannot simply remove capitalism from the equation and maintain the modern state; at this point it is the state. There can be no co-opting of an apparatus that feeds on the living; to attempt to do so is to be co-opted and corrupted oneself.

 

“Apocalypse is the self-fulfilling prophecy of the civilized” [21], says Benally. We look around and see that statist-colonial-capitalism is spiraling wildly towards devastation and mass extinction; it is death; only through its abolition do we stand a chance of preserving life. If there is such a thing as a “transition period,” then we are living in it. We must unlearn and let go of rotten social relations. This means to forgo class war for social war—our goal being total social rupture. Though negation is not an end in itself, it is the impetus for creating something outside the options already mapped out, options that inescapably lead to genocide and ecocide. Social rupture itself does not imply a utopian “clean break” of sorts but an aspiration that orients our critical praxis towards self-determined doing and the negation of that which negates it. It is through this struggle against power-over that we build power-with (and thus power-to-do). Only this (anti)power can actualize revolutionary change. We will not find solutions within the architecture of our prison—we must dismantle it brick by brick and escape its grasp, or we will perish within it.

 

References

 

[1] N.A (2022, June 5). 9th Congress of Freedom Road Socialist Organization: Seize the time, the future is bright! – Freedom Road. Freedom Road Socialist Organization | FRSO. https://frso.org/congress/9th-congress-of-freedom-road-socialist-organization-seize-the-time-the-future-is-bright/

 

[2] N.A, N.D Freedom Road Socialist Organization. Program. https://frso.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/frso-program.pdf, pp. 1-3, 6-17, 19, 29, 31

 

[3] Holloway, J. (2010). Change the World Without Taking Power: The Meaning of Revolution Today. Pluto Press (UK), pp. 118, 144

 

[4] Sykes, J. (2023). The revolutionary science of Marxism-Leninism. FRSO, Ch. 29-30

 

[5] Sakai, J. (2014). Settlers: The Mythology of the White Proletariat from Mayflower to Modern. Kersplebedeb.

 

[6] Schuhrke, J. (2024). Blue-Collar Empire: The Untold Story of US Labor’s Global Anticommunist Crusade. Verso Books.

 

[7] Horne, G. (2018). The Apocalypse of Settler Colonialism: The Roots of Slavery, White Supremacy, and Capitalism in 17th Century North America and the Caribbean. NYU Press, p. 7

 

[8] Franceschini, I., Lin, K., Sorace, C., & Loubere, N. (2022). Proletarian China: A Century of Chinese Labour. Verso Books, p. 2

 

[9] Elfstrom, M. (2021). Workers and Change in China: Resistance, Repression, Responsiveness. Cambridge University Press.

 

[10] Loyalka, M. (2013). Eating Bitterness: Stories from the Front Lines of China’s Great Urban Migration. Univ of California Press.

 

[11] Byler, D., Franceschini, I., & Loubere, N. (2022). Xinjiang Year Zero. ANU Press.

 

[12] Fischer, A. M. (2013). The Disempowered Development of Tibet in China: A Study in the Economics of Marginalization. Lexington Books.

 

[13] Byler, D. (2021). In the Camps: China’s High-Tech Penal Colony. Columbia Global Reports.

 

[14] Leibold, J. (2024, November 13). The Tibet-Aid Project and Settler Colonialism in China’s Borderlands. Made in China Journal. https://madeinchinajournal.com/2024/11/12/the-tibet-aid-project-and-settler-colonialism-in-chinas-borderlands/

 

[15] Xiaocuo, Y. (2020, August 27). Recruiting Loyal Stabilisers: On the Banality of Carceral Colonialism in Xinjiang. Made in China Journal. https://madeinchinajournal.com/2019/10/25/recruiting-loyal-stabilisers-on-the-banality-of-carceral-colonialism-in-xinjiang/

 

[16] Hostetler, L. (2001). Qing Colonial Enterprise: Ethnography and Cartography in Early Modern China. University of Chicago Press.

 

[17] Setzekorn, E. (2015). Chinese Imperialism, Ethnic Cleansing, and Military History, 1850-1877. Journal of Chinese Military History, 4(1), 80–100. https://doi.org/10.1163/22127453-12341278

 

[18] Hart-Landsberg, M., & Burkett, P. (2005). China and Socialism: Market Reforms and Class Struggle. Monthly Review Press, pp.87-114

 

[19] Meisner, M. (1999). Mao’s China and After: A History of the People’s Republic, Third Edition. Simon and Schuster, p. 388

 

[20] Central Committee, Communist Party of India (Maoist). (n.d.). China – a new Social-Imperialist power! (First Edition: July 2017, Second (Amended) Edition: 2021 January). https://bannedthought.org/India/CPI-Maoist-Docs/Books/China-Social-Imperialism-CPI-Maoist-2021-Eng-view.pdf

 

[21] Benally, K. (2023). No Spiritual Surrender: Indigenous Anarchy in Defense of the Sacred. Detritus Books, pp. 233-234, 306, 351, 356

 

[22] J. Sykes (2024, December 4). Marxism-Leninism and the theory of settler-colonialism in the United States — Fight Back! News. https://fightbacknews.org/articles/marxism-leninism-and-the-theory-of-settler-colonialism-in-the-united-states

 

[23] Fanon, F. (2004). The Wretched of the Earth. Grove Press, p.138

 

[24] Anderson, W. C., Samudzi, Z. (2018). As Black as Resistance: Finding the Conditions for Liberation https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/zoe-samudzi-and-william-c-anderson-as-black-as-resistance.pdf, pp. 16-17

 

[25] Anderson, W. C. (2021). The Nation on No Map: Black Anarchism and Abolition. AK Press, pp. 104, 183-185

 

[26] Sánchez, R., and Pita, B. (2020). Spatial and Discursive Violence in the US Southwest. Duke University Press, p.15

 

[27] Cotera, M. E., & Saldaña-Portillo, M. J. (2014). “Indigenous but not Indian? Chicana/os and the politics of indigeneity.” The World of Indigenous North America. Taylor and Francis. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203122280-42, (pp. 549-550, 552-557, 561-563)

 

[28] Archibald, R. (1978). “Acculturation and Assimilation in Colonial New Mexico.” New Mexico Historical Review 53, 3. https://digitalrepository.unm.edu/nmhr/vol53/iss3/2, p. 214

 

[29] Alberto, L. “Nations, Nationalisms, and Indígenas: The ‘Indian’ in the Chicano Revolutionary Imaginary.” Critical Ethnic Studies, vol. 2, no. 1, Jan. 2016, (pp. 107-127), doi:10.5749/jcritethnstud.2.1.0107,

 

[30] Saldaña-Portillo, J. (2001). Who’s the Indian in Aztlán? Re-Writing Mestizaje, Indianism, and Chicanismo from the Lacandón. In Duke University Press eBooks (pp. 402–423). https://doi.org/10.1215/9780822380771-020

 

[31] EDICIONES INÉDITAS. (n.d.). Contra Aztlán: A Critique of Chicano Nationalism. https://ia904709.us.archive.org/1/items/ediciones_ineditas_2020_contra/ediciones_ineditas_2020_contra.pdf

 

[32] Day, R. J. F. (2015) Gramsci Is Dead. doi:10.2307/j.ctt18fs4xw. (pp. 8, 9, 17, 80, 188)

 

[33] Gramsci, A., et al. (2015) Selections From the Prison Notebooks of Antonio Gramsci. ci.nii.ac.jp/ncid/BA03625916. (p. 57)

 

[34] Adams, J. “The Constellation of Opposition.” Post-Anarchism: A Reader. (2011) Rousselle, D., & Evren, S.  Pluto Press. (p. 109)

 

[35] Bey, M. (2020). Anarcho-Blackess: Notes Toward a Black Anarchism. AK Press. (pp. 14-15)

 

[36] Marx, K. (1869) The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. Edited by Engels, Translated by Saul K. Padover, Uploaded by Zodiac et al. www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/download/pdf/18th-Brumaire.pdf. (p. 6)

 

[37] Holloway, J. (2010) Crack Capitalism. Pluto Press. (pp. 43, 76, 85, 159, 225)

 

[38] Stirner, M. (1995). The ego and its own. Cambridge University Press. (pp. 97, 117)

 

[39] Marcos, Subcomandante Insurgente. (2018) The Zapatistas’ Dignified Rage: The Last Public Speeches of Subcommander Marcos. AK Press. (pp. 20-21)

 

[40] Bonefeld, W. (2014). Critical Theory and the critique of political economy: On Subversion and Negative Reason. A&C Black. (pp. 222-225)

 

[41] Adorno, T. (2003). Negative dialectics. Routledge. (p. 160)

 

[42] Lenin, V.I., Lenin Internet Archive (marxists.org). (1913, July 16). Lenin: Word and Deed. https://www.marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1913/jul/16.htm

 

[43] Nitzan, J., & Bichler, S. (2009). Capital as Power: A Study of Order and Creorder. Routledge. (pp. 17, 280, 281

 

[44] Lenin, V. I., Lenin Internet Archive (marxists.org). (1917). The State and Revolution. https://www.marxists.org/ebooks/lenin/state-and-revolution.pdf

 

[45] Marx, K. (n.d.). Critique of the Gotha programme. https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1875/gotha/

 

[46] Stalin. (1936, December 5). Constitution (Fundamental law) of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/stalin/works/1936/12/05.htm

 

[47] Marx/Engels Internet Archive, Marx, K., & Engels, F. (1932). The German ideology. In T. Delaney & B. Schwartz (Trans.), Marx/Engels Internet Archive [Book].f https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/download/Marx_The_German_Ideology.pdf

Simoun Magsalin – Rebel Peripheries

Posted on 02/05/2025 - 03/05/2025 by muntjac

Available as a bonus zine for issue 2 of Muntjac magazine.

Dedicated to the anarchists and abolitionists in the Philippines that we’ve met along the way, including those who have moved on or fallen out of touch

 

When anarchism (or any other idea for that matter) is brought into new contexts, it necessarily enters into dialogue with the histories and traditions of that new context. When Mao Zedong Thought was all the rage during the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos Sr., this new idea was re-contextualized in the context of the history of revolutionary nationalism of the Katipunan, Andres Bonifacio, and the resistance to the American colonial State. Anarchism in the Philippines necessarily indigenizes itself into the Philippine context, something I’ve written about in the past on various libertarian elements in the Philippines.1 My purpose here isn’t to restate what I’ve already written on previously but to expand the re-contextualization of the potentiality of anarchism in rebel peripheries to a distinctly anti-anarchist project: that of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). As a Hadith of the Prophet Muhammad says “Seek knowledge even in China,” China being the furthest and most remote place in the ancient Arab imagination, urging that we ought to seek knowledge even from the most remote—or in this case, the strangest—of places.

 

The CPP, its armed wing the New People’s Army (NPA), and its front the National Democratic Front (NDF) have been waging Maoist armed struggle in the Philippines since 1969. In doing so, it has created a number of rebel peripheries in the countryside that exist outside the control of the Philippine State—in the anarchy of the peripheries. However, the longstanding second communist rebellion in the Philippines has to be placed in the historical context of anarchic and rebel peripheries in the archipelago. Once we move past and sublate the experiences of the Maoists for the revolutionary project of anarchism, we can then move on understanding the insurrectionary project of mamundok-in-place.

 

To build up to this thesis of mamundok-in-place, I first start with a discussion of the anarchy of the peripheries, a condition by which State power cannot cohere and territorialize in the internal peripheries of a country. I touch here on the question of why Marxist guerrillas, rather than anarchists, are often found in anarchic peripheries. These anarchic peripheries act as refugia for political projects. Then I move to the second section on desertion and marronage which sees peoples and rebels move to peripheries out of the politics of escape and how this can transform into the politics of rebellion, as with the case of the maroons. I also discuss the notions of dragons and hydras in terms of organizational form as developed by Russell Maroon Shoatz. In the third section, I situate concepts of the politics of escape and the politics of rebellion in the Philippines with concepts such as remontar and mamundok. It is in this tradition that I contextualize the New Peoples Army and the communist insurgency. I move on to the fourth section to return to Shoatz’s dragon and hydra analogies to apply these to the Philippine experience. This is necessary to make an anarchist appraisal of the second communist insurgency which feeds onto a broader political project of appraising Maoism and its use of rebel peripheries. I extend this discussion of Maoism in the fifth section to critique the Marxist project using Shoatz’s analysis. Through this, I develop a notion of “post-Maoism” that learns from the mistakes and defeats in the Marxist and Maoist projects. I return to rebel peripheries in the sixth section in order to problematize rebel peripheries in the context of the revolutionary and insurrectionary project. Rebel peripheries are ultimately projects that suffer from problems of isolation and marginalization. This isolation clashes with the revolutionary project of wanting the whole world. In the seventh section and building upon these problems in the previous section, I unpack rebel peripheries to make sense of what aspects of rebel peripheries are pertinent for anarchists and revolutionaries today. It is here that we can begin to see the contours for the development of autonomous projects in the Twenty-First Century that learns from the deficiencies of rebel peripheries while also affirming the politics of care forwarded by the Black radical tradition. It is here that mamundok-in-place begins to make sense. In the penultimate section, I return again to the Philippines and the rebel peripheries of the Maoists to make sense of what is being subverted. The contours of mamundok-in-place are outlined in precisely what is not being subverted and what could be subverted in its place: organized abandonment and proletarianization. In the final section, I further sketch the contours of what mamundok-in-place could be, understanding that lines of desertion are found everywhere and that the insurrectionary project can find its reality when we see the whole world is our mountain.

 

The Anarchy of the Peripheries

The “anarchy of the peripheries” is what I term as the condition of internal peripheries within countries, especially within the former Third World, where State power cannot fully cohere and territorialize.2 I term “anarchic peripheries” as the internal peripheries that exhibit this condition. These anarchic peripheries are usually situated in boondocks, mountainous formations, and other difficult terrain. The people who live there have historically defied civilizational imposition and all that entails—corvée, taxes, slavery, colonialism, proletarianization, and all. The anarchy of the peripheries also exist as refugia by which those in the colony or civilization could desert to in avoiding civilizational imposition. “Refugium” (plural: “refugia”) here refers to places of refuge that is isolated from changes outside it.

 

The specific anarchy that exists in the periphery are conditioned by geography and political power. State power coheres where it can territorialize its power over a population. This territorialization is geographic in the sense that States need accessibility and a settled population. Thus, where it is easy to settle, we also find States. As such, States usually cohere and territorialize in or by geographic features like plains, rivers, and valleys where historical settled populations are found. Where the State can travel and deploy its agents, there we can also find the State. The Andes mountains in Columbia and Ecuador are a clear exception because much of the population density of these countries are in the mountains where much of the population lives due to the favorable climate. In this sense, the favorable climate adheres to the general rule of accessibility of settlement—the exception that proves the rule.

 

Outside the core areas where State power is cohered and territorialized is the anarchic peripheries. These areas are conditioned by the anarchy of the peripheries, by their remoteness to State power as boondocks. The geography of these areas are mountainous and heavily forested. The difficulty to traverse these areas also makes it difficult for States to project their power these peripheries. Hence, the result is that these peripheries tend to be anarchic in character. The anarchy of peripheries usually exist in the former Third World, especially in regions where State power only cohered in core geographic features like lowlands and rivers.

 

In this sense, the anarchy of the peripheries is a condition, not a political project. Indeed, many peoples in the peripheries of States throughout history have their own polities that some may describe as hierarchical or proto-statist. These peripheries are anarchic in relation to State-administered core areas. Whatever statist institutions are built here simply cannot be compared to the coherence of State power in the urban, suburban, and immediate environs.3

 

The anarchy of the peripheries are also the refugia where guerrilla movements, especially those claiming to be Marxist-Leninist, are able to establish bulwarks and strongholds. Where rebels take hold in anarchic peripheries, I term these as “rebel peripheries.” Ironically, these Marxist-Leninist rebel peripheries are marked by a “heretical thesis” that suggests that Marxist guerrillas survive and thrive precisely because of the condition of the anarchy of the peripheries, and that it is the Marxist-Leninists—not the anarchists—who are able to fully take advantage of this condition of anarchy. Guerrilla Marxists owe their existence to anarchy, yet in places where State power is weakest, anarchists are not to be found. That is to say, in the anarchy of the peripheries where there are armed guerrillas with statist projects (i.e. to take State power), we do not find intentional projects for anarchy. This double irony is what characterizes the vast majority of left-wing guerrilla movements, with the Zapatistas (EZLN) and the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) being the clear exceptions. And even if we look at those exceptions, both the Zapatistas and the PKK started out as Marxist guerrilla movements, with both eventually developing libertarian programs at varying points in their life. With the Zapatistas, their libertarian turn was quite early, before their first insurrection, while the PKK only adopted libertarian elements after Abdullah Öcalan’s own libertarian turn.

 

Why anarchists are not found in the anarchic peripheries is likely because anarchist armed struggle is largely urban in character under non-revolutionary conditions or widespread across vast distances in conditions of revolution and civil war. Marxist guerrillas move to peripheries in order to build Statist projects that prefigure a future socialist State. The anarchy of the periphery allows them to build proto-States and shadow governments. The State is, as Gustav Landauer reminds us, a social relationship, a way of relating to one another that can only be smashed through enacting different social relations.4 These Marxists bring the State with them and build new ones in the anarchic peripheries, while anarchists are not wont to do the same.

 

But despite this, there may still be potential for anarchy as a project within the context of the anarchy of peripheries, especially when it comes to desertion.

 

Desertion and Marronage

The anarchy of the peripheries are the refugia of those deserting or rebelling against the State. These anarchic peripheries become rebel peripheries when they are politicized, as in open rebellion against the State. Desertion of civilization is infrapolitical. James C. Scott coined “infrapolitics” as invisible politics, much like infrared is invisible to the naked eye.5 For Scott, desertion from the military is infrapolitical compared to open mutiny.

 

In Southeast Asia, the most famous anarchic periphery is Zomia, a large highland in mainland Southeast Asia that spans several countries from Myanmar to China to Thailand. Zomia and its people are outlined in an “anarchist history” in James C. Scott’s book, The Art of Not Being Governed.6 In this vast periphery, vast disparate peoples evaded State power for generations, thus also escaping and resisting corvée, taxes, and colonialism. In this case, archaeology uses “pericolonialism” to refer to what I call as the anarchy of the periphery. It literally abbreviates the “periphery of colonialism.” Pericolonialism is the effect of colonialism on the peripheries of the colonial project, showing how pericolonial peoples are also affected by colonialism (though not directly colonized), and can even react or resist colonialism.

 

We may think of rebel peripheries as the political act of deserting and rebelling against the State to form de facto autonomous communities, the visibly political form of the infrapolitical desertion. Without this politics of rebellion, desertion remains as the politics of escape. Indeed, this is how I conceptualize the term to think of Zapatista Chiapas or other Marxist guerrilla strongholds, but a more classical historical example would be that maroon communities across the Americas.

 

“Maroons” were those who escaped slavery (or their descendants) who built autonomous communities in the peripheries of colonial slavocracies. “Marronage” is their act of escaping slavery and building maroon communities autonomous from slavery and colonialism. This concept of marronage is something specific to the Black experience and the Black radical tradition. Marronage is the denial of the enslavement of Black people and its resulting fugitivity. The specific act of desertion in marronage is not merely that of deserting the colony, but of also escaping the diktats of commodification of the body through enslavement. Marronage is not merely desertion, but the “stealing oneself from bondage,” an act of open rebellion just by daring to escape the plantation.7 However, marronage and the politics of escape can often leave captivity for others in place.8 This problem was well-recognized by maroons such as those in San Domingo (known today as Haiti), which did set up lines of desertion and escalated to the politics of rebellion through armed struggle against slavery.9 During the Haitian revolution and after independence, the self-abolition of the enslaved resulted in the development of a class of free peasant maroons who lived largely free and autonomous from the machinations of the Haitian State. They formed maroon communities in the mountains of Haiti, where the plantation system (albeit without slavery) could not be reimposed by Haiti’s new leaders.10

 

The Black revolutionary Russell Maroon Shoatz wrote a Black Marxist history of maroons and marronage in his seminal work “The Dragon and the Hydra.”11 In that work, Shoatz showed how various acts of marronage and maroon communities not only escaped slavery, but resisted and attacked slavery from the peripheries. In San Domingo, as documented by CLR James, maroons attacked slavery by liberating people from bondage and instigating slave rebellions.12 Shoatz contrasted two organizational forms: dragon and hydra, or “centralized and decentralized forces of change.” Dragon-type organizations are large centralized apparatuses of resistance with a clear leader, while hydra-type organizations are several decentralized groups without overall leaders and largely operated under self-directed militancy.13 As Shoatz suggests, rebel dragons can easily be slayed by much larger imperial dragons, either be literally destroyed or be co-opted to betray their rebel gains as in Haiti. However, rebel hydras are persistent and resilient. While some heads of the hydra can be encouraged by colonizers to be co-opted (in what he calls as “treaty maroons”) or defeated, there are still many other hydra heads that resist co-optation or colonization. True enough, many of these maroon communities still survive today across the Americas, outlasting slavery and empires.

 

In this sense, we can think of rebel peripheries as a more general term to which marronage is specific to the Black experience. It is the evasion and desertion of the State where they become sites of not only de facto autonomy from States, but also sites from which States and their machinations can be assaulted from.

 

Remontar and Mamundok

The Philippines has a long history of pericolonialism and rebel peripheries. Desertion from the colony was termed as “remontar” in the Philippines. “Remontar” is Spanish for “re-mounted,” as in “mountain,” where “remontar” is an action of going up a slope, all calling to mind a return to the mountain.14 In this sense, remontar is similar to marronage, albeit specific to the Philippine experience and with the notable absence of chattel slavery.

 

Indigenous peoples in the Philippines have long practiced remontar by leaving easily colonizable lowlands for uplands like in the Cordilleras and in the interior of islands like Mindoro, Panay, and Mindanao. This is the politics of escape.

 

Stephen Acabado’s work on pericolonial archaeology of Ifugao sites argues that the ancestors of the Ifugao consciously chose to move to the interior highlands of the Cordilleras to escape colonialism.15 The Ifugao also adopted wet-rice agriculture as a way of intensifying economic activity to support a large pericolonial population. One of the Ifugao people’s achievements was the creation of a vast mountainous wet-rice terrace system—the Ifugao Rice Terraces—that was constructed without State power. The Ifugao also attacked the colonial system, not merely through raids that brought them into conflict with the colonial State, but also through economic warfare. The colonial State harshly enforced a tobacco monopoly in the country, but the Ifugao people subverted this monopoly by growing their own tobacco and selling it to lowlanders. In this way, we see how pericolonial people not only resisted colonization, but also subvert it economically. Notably, this subversion was coordinated without a polity we would recognize as an Ifugao State. Likely, their resistance to Spanish rule was largely self-directed, as the Ifugao did not have a stratified class society like in the colonial lowlands.

 

Some Indigenous groups in the Philippines are given the exonym “Remontado.” Remontados were those who did remontar, who “fled from the bells” (of the town church) to live a life outside Spanish rule in the mountains, rejecting the colonial State and Christianization.16 An American-era anthropologist noted that some “civilized” Filipinos like the Pangasinense had a tendency to flee to the mountains, to remontar, to escape the colony, given the proximity of Pangasinan to the mountains of Benguet. He also noted that the Guardia Civil periodically launched expeditions against the Remontados.17 In the Commonwealth era of the American colonial period, Remontados in Rizal province were noted have been inclined to semi-nomadic life, but was forced to create permanent settlements to avoid their land from being grabbed by lowlander creoles.18 One Remontado group, the Dumagat-Remontados, are found inland, despite their name implying some connection to the sea (root word “dagat”), suggesting a past of remontar where they left lowlands near the sea to go up to the mountains. (The Dumagat-Remontados are still threatened by the State today through the disastrous Kaliwa Dam plan. No to Kaliwa Dam!)

 

I suspect the vast majority of remontar in the Philippines will not have an explicit historical record as remontar in these cases are inherently infrapolitical and self-directed. Instead of small rebellions that leave their mark as footnote to history, why not simply just go up the mountain as the Remontados do to avoid those nasty Kastila colonizers? In this sense, remontar is infrapolitics and the politics of escape in the silent way people desert the lowland colonial zone for the freedom of the mountains. Contrary to Murray Bookchin who ruminated on the phrase “the city air makes one free,”19 it seems to be more the case in the Philippines that the mountain air makes one free. This irony is made stronger where according to one anthropological report published in 1937 (during the American colonial period), the Remontados of Rizal province were inclined towards democratic politics where they elect barrio presidents, vice presidents, councilors, secretaries, chief of police, and members of their police.20 (Though perhaps Bookchin ought to be credited for recognizing that there is something liberating about mountain air that generates liberatory politics when he noted that the mountains of Greece provided fertile ground for early democratic politics or how the Green Mountains of Vermont informed democratic assemblies in his native Vermont.21 Though, unfortunately, Bookchin never explored this insight in depth before he died.)

 

Elsewhere in the Philippines, various revolts against the Spanish colonial State built spaces of autonomy as more recognizable and intentional rebel peripheries, moving to the politics of rebellion. One notable event on the island of Bohol called the Dagohoy rebellion founded several barrios in the interior boondocks of the island to live autonomous of the colonial State for 85 years, conquered and co-opted only in 1829. With their base in the mountains of Inabangan and Talibon, Dagohoy and his followers lived full lives free from colonial burdens.22 Their rebel periphery prefigured much of the Maoist strategy between “red areas” controlled by the Maoists and “white areas” still nominally under control by the State. During the rebellion, Inabangan and Talibon prefigured the red areas which acted as safe zones for subterfuge and occasional raids elsewhere on the island of Bohol, much like white areas today.

 

During the late Spanish period and the American colonial period, millenarian and apocalyptic movements went to the mountains where they could practice their faith and found utopian communities in peace, some of which were violently repressed by the Spanish colonial State like that of the Aritao Commune of Hermano Pule.23 Many of these millenarian movements still exist today in the peripheries of the Philippines, their mountains functioning as their holy places and as refugia for indigenous religious practices.

 

During the Philippine Revolution, the mountains and boondocks offered safe havens for Katipunero guerrillas. Remontados gave support for Bonifacio’s Katipunan.24 The anarchic peripheries are then transformed into rebel peripheries. During the latter stages of the Philippine Revolution after the American invasion forces conquered Manila, the military government of the dictator Emilio Aguinaldo relocated to the mountains where General Antonio Luna planned a long-term guerrilla war using the mountains as their bulwark.25 After the defeat of the nascent republic, Miguel Malvar continued a guerrilla war from the peripheries, striking at the American colonial State in his home province.26 Later on, Macario Sakay proclaimed a rebel republic in Mt. San Cristobal and later Morong province (now Rizal province) where Remontados gave him support and refuge.

 

Quite notably in the Second World War, guerrillas of all strips created uncountable liberated barrios across the nation, free from the landlords, the State, and the Japanese Empire. Some of these rebel peripheries persisted in the post-war period during the Huk rebellion (the first communist insurgency).

 

In this sense, the red areas of the Communist Party of the Philippines today is best situated within this long history of remontar and rebel peripheries in the archipelago, from the Spanish colonial period to today. A common euphemism for joining the communist armed struggle is mamundok or going to the mountain, again, an act of remontar, of deserting the State for the liberty of the periphery. While, of course, the purpose of these Maoist rebel peripheries is the protracted people’s war (PPW), the effect is a spiritual successor to previous traditions of remontar in the country. Indeed, mamundok is a modernization, politicization, and continuation of remontar. In this sense, mamundok is the political form of the infrapolitical remontar.

 

Furthermore, some anecdotal evidence suggests that Indigenous peoples and peasant creoles already living on the periphery often join the NPA either as full guerrillas or as “part-timers.”27 This suggests that these people living on peripheries are conscious of preserving the autonomy of their peripheries and see the CPP-NPA as a means of preserving their autonomy. In this sense, the anarchy of the periphery and its peoples dovetails with the political-military strategy of the Party.

 

Indeed, when it comes to the anarchy of the peripheries, the CPP is quite explicit in their strategy of basing their armed struggle specifically in the mountains. They noted that the geography and populations of the internal peripheries are ideal for their armed struggle.

 

The mountainous character of the country countervails its archipelagic character from the very start. A mountainous terrain with some population and with thick vegetation is an excellent condition for our people’s war. […] The Sierra Madre sews up almost the entire length of Luzon on the eastern side of the Cagayan Valley to the Bicol region through Central Luzon. It links as many as nine provinces. […] A mountainous terrain, where more people inhabit the foothills, clearings, plateaus, and riversides or creeksides, is more favorable for the people’s army.28

 

In these red areas, communist guerrillas set up their own autonomous governments and systems of representation for peasants and rural folk.29 Where State power is weak and thus lacks the provision of medicine, education, and law, the New People’s Army also acts as a mobile clinic, school, and court. Among the peripheral peasantry, they institute various reforms they call as “agrarian revolution” or increasing wages, lowering rents, and informal land redistribution (informal because they are obviously not recognized by the State). What is curious about these reforms is that they are rather mild and moderate, recalling to mind one Filipino Trotskyist’s formulation of the New People’s Army as being “social democrats with guns” as they enforce reforms that are essentially social-democratic in nature,30 yet with the effectivity of Maoist praxis of “political power growing out of the barrel of a gun.”

 

Also common in red areas is the practice of “revolutionary taxes”: protection racketeering of rural business like haciendas, plantations, and mines. This isn’t a moralistic judgment: revolutionary racketeering is good, actually! The Ukrainian, Spanish, and Uruguayan anarchists were not above a little racketeering for a cause. Illegalism is quite a valid tactic when the situation calls for it. The problem becomes when this protection racket becomes formalized in a way that revolutionary forces then permit a level of exploitation in exchange for protection money, which the NPA does at times. Sometimes the NPA does destroy mining equipment instead of collecting protection money, so at least they ought to be credited for that.

 

The essential politics behind remontar and mamundok are ultimately agreeable with anarchy and anarchism. However, that does not mean we agree with the Party that espouses it.

 

Half-Dragon, Half-Hydra

The CPP still maintains democratic centralism in Party functions and political line, but they have a longstanding practice of decentralization when it comes to their protracted people’s war. This policy is called “the policy of centralized leadership and decentralized operations.”31 This is partly due to geography: unlike in China, Thailand, Peru, Nepal, and India, the Philippines is an archipelago, not a contiguous land mass. This makes for a centralized contiguous military operation quite difficult and almost impossible by the NPA, hence the use of decentralized islands of guerrilla fronts across the country.

 

Returning to Shoatz’s formulation, the CPP-NPA is a dragon politically, but a hydra militarily and socially. Its hydra aspect gives it multiple advantages in its persistence and resilience, but its dragon aspect leaves them prone to misleaderships. Hence the mass confusion among their mass base during their shameful alliance with the fascist regime of President Rodrigo Duterte.32 Like the “treaty maroons” or the counterrevolutionary Haitian leadership, the CPP and NDF leadership can be co-opted and entreated to demobilize.

 

This is clearly a development from the first communist insurgency of the Huk Rebellion under the old communist party (PKP-1930). The Huks concentrated their forces in a contiguous land area in the plains of Central Luzon, but their highly concentrated dragon-type organization led to a combination of concentrated military offensive against them by the newly independent Philippine government (and their American overlords) and government incentives to give up armed struggle—the carrot and the stick. Eventually, the PKP-1930 was enticed to give up armed struggle, even to the point where they supported the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos Sr., and quite a number of their mass base was co-opted by becoming settlers in the new frontier in Cotabato in Mindanao.

 

Yet the hydra aspect of the CPP-NPA-NDF and the broader tendency of National Democracy is not something to be discounted. Like a hydra with multiple autonomous heads, National Democracy in both its underground and above ground aspects have proven to be very able organizers. The Marcos dictatorship saw innumerable guerrilla fronts open across the archipelago alongside urban mobilizations. A centralized coordination of mobilization of this caliber and character is quite literally impossible and requires a high level of initiative and autonomy from the rank-and-file. Indeed, I have seen and met with youth who identify with National Democracy and I have seen that they are often self-directed in their militancy, sometimes even independent from the formal mass organizations, or even opposed to cadre leadership (this is in the case of the issue with sexual harassment).

 

But we cannot discount the dragon aspect of the CPP. Despite the high level of autonomy in the Party, intrigue and plots in the Central Committee prevented a Second Party Congress from convening directly after the fall of the dictatorship. Anonymous authors speak of “authoritarian tendencies” in the Party, and whole Party organs declared autonomy from the Central Committee, specifically putting the blame squarely on Armando Liwanag (the recently deceased Jose Maria “Joma” Sison).33 Instead of a Second Party Congress, dissident factions of the Party fed up with the authoritarianism of Liwanag simply split from the CPP to form new groups in what is called the Reaffirmist–Rejectionist Schism. This schism, combined with disastrous mass torture and murder of hundreds, if not a few thousand, committed communists during various purges destroyed the gains of the National Democratic revolution.34 In this sense, the dragon aspect of the CPP resulted in a disastrous demobilization and fragmentation. To this day, the CPP has not recovered the heights of its mobilization reached since the ending of the dictatorship.

 

Today, the CPP and National Democracy remains an impressive force, to be sure. The autonomy of action in above ground National Democratic groups are still indicative of a living hydra, but its dragon aspect still has the ability to harm their own movement.

 

Post-Maoism and Dividing the Dragon

There’s a certain tendency in the North American left to talk about the New People’s Army as the “good Maoists” on par with the Zapatistas. This is in part by a very effective publicity campaign by the US-based kasamas (or what National Democrats are called in the United States). I would not go as far to say that I support the CPP-NPA-NDF. I agree that the creation of red zones of autonomy are good, but I still reject the theory of National Democracy, their carcerality,35 their bloody record in internal purge massacres, their assassinations of leftists,36 and their shameful opportunist support for the fascist Rodrigo Duterte out of some false promises.

 

With that said, what the CPP-NPA-NDF does in terms of building autonomy in red areas—rebel peripheries—isn’t exactly wrong. The purpose of their construction in their intent is “National Democracy,” the protracted people’s war, the capture or creation of state power, and the formation of a Party-State apparatus. While this intention is disagreeable to anarchists, the praxis of building organs of autonomy isn’t wrong, and in fact, is to be celebrated.

 

“Insurrectionary libertarian post-Maoism” was a half-serious inside joke in our milieu that referred to the idea that the Maoist insurrection in the Philippines was essentially something to celebrate, but that anarchists in the Philippines needed to build on the revolutionary tradition and transcend Maoism on libertarian terms due to the anarchist disagreements on States. While great for shitposting, the idea is not disagreeable, especially when it comes to the autonomous and self-directed aspects of the communist insurgency today. Indigenization of ideas is a natural yet integral part of revolutionary politics anywhere. In the Philippines, it will necessarily mean also recontextualizing and indigenizing anarchism within the history of desertion, remontar and mamundok, including that of the communist insurgency. Post-Maoism in the Philippines means learning from the experience of the National Democracy and situating our own anarchism within the context of the revolutionary and rebel history of the Philippines. We can reject many of the theories and practices of the CPP and National Democracy—Stalinism as an organizational form, the use of violent purges and assassinations to control the left, class collaborationism as with Duterte—but we can also affirm what they did right: deserting the State, attacking it, and creating spaces for autonomy in rebel peripheries.

 

Another aspect of taking insurrectionary libertarian post-Maoism seriously would be on critiquing its dragon aspect and fully committing to a hydra organizational form. Maoism has always had this tension between top-down centralization and bottom-up organizing, or a tension between the hybridization of its dragon and hydra aspects. In his essay, Shoatz’s example of the failures of dragon-type of organizing was revolutionary Haiti where the dragon-type forces of Toussaint L’Ouverture and his successors would betray their mass base time and time again like reimposing the plantation system:

 

Thus, we can clearly see how Haiti’s dragon forces played a very ambivalent role in the rebel fight for independence: They started out as tenacious and brilliant fighters against all of the European imperial and colonial elements, and the traitors amongst the Mulatto’s, who were all but bent on keeping the enslaved Africans underfoot. During the course of the revolutionary struggle, they all opportunistically switched to the French imperialist’s side, and went on to attempt to drown the still revolutionary masses and their decentralized group in blood; hoping that way the French would allow them to serve as a new elite class of African policemen against a re-enslaved African worker’s class.

 

Failing to suppress the rebels, the dragon forces rejoined the hydra elements and lent their weigh to totally defeating the French, only to once again turn against the revolutionary masses by establishing themselves as a dictatorial and exploitative African elite.37

 

Outside the Black radical tradition, we can see too many of such examples, even if we avoid the obvious example with Joseph Stalin, the supposed wrecker of Lenin’s legacy, so let’s start with Nikita Khrushchev. Maoists are famously anti-revisionist, meaning they uphold the contributions of Stalin. They are anti-revisionist because they opposed the perceived revisions by Khrushchev who succeeded Stalin as paramount leader. But Stalin was the one who concentrated so much dragon power into his position. Khrushchev simply took over the dragon’s head and led the dragon. Stalin, and by extension, Stalinism, had allowed power to be structured in such a way that a “great betrayer” could simply take its place.

 

Thomas Sankara, another darling of the left, also tells us a lot of the dangers of the dragon. Unlike Toussaint L’Ouverture and his successors, we cannot perhaps fault Sankara for being a betrayer. His greatest “sin” is perhaps because he was assassinated and his project fallen apart—supposedly not a fault of his own—but this is crucial. Sankara’s revolution in Burkina Faso was largely top-down and State-led. Without the dragon’s head to protect the gains of his revolution, it simply fell apart. Had Sankara’s revolution seriously made an effort of promoting the revolutionary self-activity of the Burkinabè working class and creating a true monster of a hydra, his assassination would not have led to such an easily-won counterrevolution.

 

But perhaps let us look at a Marxist who did create a true monster of a hydra: Mao Zedong himself. The Cultural Revolution in China, initiated by Mao himself, was truly an unprecedented and unsurpassed marvel of social movement mobilization: so many untold millions were mobilized that the world has never seen a scale of mass mobilization as in China ever before or ever since. Many of those mobilized could not have been commanded to by above and really did practice a level of self-directed militancy. Yet as Wu Yiching shows in his The Cultural Revolution at the Margins, the Party-State acted as a demobilizer, jailer, and executioner of many Chinese communists.38 Yu Luoke wrote and organized against bloodline theory that tried to formalize the creation of a privileged caste, but he was executed for it. Conservative red guards would win over radical red guards because the conservative red guards were the scions of the bureaucrats in the Party-State. The working class alliance Sheng-wu-lien organized against a reemergence of a “red capitalist class,” argued for a “People’s Commune of China” and agitated for the fullest conclusion of the Cultural Revolution.39 For these sins, they were ruthlessly repressed by Mao and the Party-State. Innumerable other Cultural Revolutionary forces were co-opted and then integrated into the Party-State, their political lines moderating until they could be safely assimilated. And so the Cultural Revolution was demobilized. Though he initiated the Cultural Revolution, Mao “is like the sorcerer who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells”40 and rushed to crush or co-opt the very powers he unleashed. The last hurrah of the Cultural Revolution, in 1989 after Mao’s death and the rise of Deng Xiaoping, saw the communist youth who grew up in the Cultural Revolution march to protect their gains at Tiananmen Square and across China in the June 4th movement. We all know how that ended—a nominally “communist” government slaughtering workers and well-convinced communists,41 their dragon no longer under their control. As Wu argued, the demobilization of the Cultural Revolution by the Party-State led to the post-socialist transition in China. “It is right to rebel,” but only within the allowances of the Party-State. The dragon may have unleashed a hydra, but it re-leashed some of its heads and killed others until the dragon’s head was taken over by yet another great betrayer in Deng Xiaoping and his “capitalist roader” successors. Long declared illegal by the heirs of Deng, the hydra of the Cultural Revolution is still alive, struggling against the Party-State and capitalism with Chinese characteristics, alive in the name of, in spite of, and not because of, Mao.

 

Dragons, then, are alluring and appealing. But even on communist terms, they are dangerous beasts that bring about “revisionism” and the victory of “capitalist roaders.” Others, including Shoatz himself, suggest that a “revolutionary dragon” is still necessary to “consciously disarm and disperse the reactionary dragon,” but that this revolutionary dragon must be kept in “a cage” where it “cannot escape” with the keys in the hands of the hydra, where the hydra brings out the revolutionary dragon only when it is needed and kept in its cage otherwise.42 But what does keeping the dragon in the hydra’s cage and leash even mean? Shoatz’s concession that hydras cannot defeat dragons and need their own dragon to protect them offers little solutions other than vague analogies to prevent the revolutionary dragon from betraying and decimating our hydra. Ultimately, Maoism, and by extension much of Marxism, has no answer to how to prevent a great betrayer from taking over the dragon’s head beyond some sophistry about the mass line, two-line struggle, and launching cultural revolutions or great rectifications.

 

Indeed, we’ve all been here before. Two-line struggle failed to remove “revisionists” and “capitalist-roaders” in the Maobadi movement in Nepal to the point where official Maobadis in government broke strikes and struck deals with multinationals.43 Even in the Philippines, there was fierce two-line struggle in the CPP around fifteen years ago which some have framed as a “Sison–Tiamzon” conflict where Party rank-and-file, apparently self-directed, criticized the upper cadre for class collaboration with the Manny Villar candidacy for president (of which Bongbong Marcos was part of alongside National Democracy!).44 Clearly these lower cadre failed in their two-line struggle and would probably have decried and protested the CPP fawning over Duterte six years later. No, not even two-line struggle in the Cultural Revolution succeeded. Dragons are just that dangerous and can only tolerate hydras at their pleasure.

 

Neither can purges be a necessary nor sufficient solution for preventing the capture of the dragon’s head. The Soviets, Chinese, and Vietnamese purged and purged and purged, but all three saw the restoration of capitalism in the end. The purges in the CPP were even more meaningless as the only result was self-inflicted decimation and demobilization. As we have seen, opportunists and capitalist-roaders survive purges all the time, often able to find refuge in the Party hierarchy.

 

However, do not mistake this as an argument for doing nothing at all.45 I agree with Bookchin’s critique of the failure of the CNT in the Spanish revolution to establish their political power.46 The CNT were given a choice to consolidate their political power, but dogmatically refused to do so out of some naïve belief that it was anti-anarchist. Would not have excluding the statist forces and safeguarding the self-directed militancy of the proletariat been a revolutionary anarchist act? This could have been the unleashing of the hydra and the protection of the hydra from both the Republican and fascist dragons, but after all, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

 

Post-Maoism will mean learning from the dragon and dividing it, thus transcending the Maoist experience. This post-Maoism will necessarily bring into the front the valiant self-directed militancy as in the Cultural Revolution. Post-Maoism will mean necessarily sublating the lessons that are effectively useful for new generations.

 

Rebel Peripheries Today

What is the theoretical and praxeological value of rebel peripheries today? What would it take to think of rebel peripheries as more than a means to an end? As Ursula K. Le Guin once wrote in The Lathe of Heaven: “The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.”47 Contrary to the overly enthusiastic online leftists, the Philippines is not at the precipice of communist revolution today. State control is arguably stronger today than it was under the Marcos dictatorship due to highly effective soft power—which has proven to be stronger than mere coercion. Unlike in the Marcos dictatorship which sought to undermine networks of political patronage and political dynasties in favor of strongman (dragon) rule, the current State under the son of the dictator, Bongbong Marcos, co-opts the networks of political patronage and political dynasties. Even the State can be a hydra today. This means a sober reading shows that the ends of communist State power or even National Democracy is not near in sight. “All we have are means”; what we have right now are the rebel peripheries.

 

Anarchists, of course, refuse to make a virtue out of necessity, in this case the rebel peripheries. In a classic example, Czarist Russia necessitated a militarized underground and highly centralized party. Though these material conditions under the Czar were not a universal reality, necessity was made into a virtue and militarized centralism was deemed a virtue for communist parties after the Bolshevization of the Comintern. Even anarchists have done non-anarchist things out of necessity like joining the Republican government and even setting up concentration camps during the Spanish Revolution. Today anarchists reject the virtue of these necessities. Though anarchists are not always right: in a bit unfortunate example today, some anarchists make a virtue out of necessity in joining the Ukrainian military apparatus. It can certainly be framed as a necessity, but it is neither anarchist nor a virtue.

 

In the same way, rebel peripheries can sometimes be seen as making a virtue out of necessity. As I have argued here, it is indeed virtuous to desert and attack the State. But we cannot be satisfied with rebel peripheries; we want the whole world. As James Connolly says: “For our demands most moderate are, / We only want the earth.”48 Rebel peripheries should be seen as making the best use of necessity, but not converting it to a virtue in-of-itself. The CPP and National Democracy is self-aware of this problem. The ongoing Third Rectification movement within National Democracy attests to the idea that they cannot and should not be satisfied with doing underground mass work and being “roving rebel bands”;49 they want the “strategic stalemate in the people’s war” and State power.

 

But why has the CPP failed to move past the rebel peripheries? I suspect that the NPA is unable to move past the peripheries is precisely because of the freeholding class interest of peasants in the peripheries. By freeholding, peasants want to maintain their petty property and independence rather than wanting to overthrow capitalism. Peasants in the periphery want to be independent, and the NPA allows them to keep their independence from the State and from the big agribusinesses. There is no need for the peripheral peasants to move past this petty independence.

 

Since antiquity, States have historically been constructed on the backs of the peasantry. Elites like landed nobility build State power over compelling peasants into compliance—corvée, taxes, conscription, etc. What is unique about the Maoist project since Mao Zedong himself was that the peasants are centered as the agential motors of the new State, as partners in State-building and modernization. In previous eras the agential motors were landed nobility or the later bourgeoisie which saw peasants as subordinates. But again, peasants do not want to build States—they want to escape it and live free as freeholders. There is no “self-abolition of the peasantry” like there is with the proletariat. Peasants do not have an innate class interest for abolishing themselves. If they partake in State-building, it is because they are compelled to by authorities, or it allows them to continue to live independently such as through land reform that creates a class of a free peasantry.

 

Why the peasantry in China was a suitable base for revolution was because the communist bulwark in Yan’an is actually quite large, compared to the NPA rebel peripheries in the Philippines. With this considerable territory (and the relative independence the communists enjoyed due to the political instability of the Warlord Era), the Chinese communists were able to build a State apparatus and a regular army. With this State, the Chinese communists instituted land reform to win over the peasantry to their side in the Chinese civil war until the victory of the communists in the post-War period. In the Philippines, there is no such region where the shadow government of the CPP-NPA-NDF could operate openly and prepare to build a regular army. Nor do they undertake more ambitious land reform projects. So all they have are rebel peripheries.

 

If pericolonialism is the effects of and responses to colonialism from the periphery, we can also think of a “peristatism,” or the effects of and responses to the State from the peripheries, especially rebel peripheries. Just as the Ifugao were pressured to change their social, political, and economic life in response to colonialism on their borders, rebel peripheries likewise face a similar pressure to defend their autonomy. To think of it another way, we can think of the Soviet Union as sort of being in the periphery of world capitalism and imperialism (this is not totally correct, but bear with me here). In the Soviet Union, this resulted in developing support in the imperial-capitalist core to defend the Soviet periphery. Communist parties in the imperial core organized to defend the Soviet Union in the periphery and their own social conditions become secondary. The defense of the “socialist motherland” came first. In the same way, National Democracy’s rebel peripheries become the center of gravity of militancy in the Philippines today. As BISIG once noted,

 

…an organization with a major underground or armed component will eventually make this component its center of gravity. As a result, the logic of the organization’s actions will always follow the needs of the underground component. The above ground expression will only become an auxiliary to the first logic of the underground component.50

 

This is indeed the orientation of National Democracy today. Militarism and militarization makes the armed force the center of gravity. Some anarchists try to solve this through subordinating the armed actions to political struggles rather than other way around. This was the case with the armed struggle of the FAU in Uruguay.51 But for National Democracy, and many of the armed struggle groups across the world, “political power grows out the barrel of a gun” rather from self-directed militancy.

 

In another aspect, the romanticization of mamundok is also problematic. As Paul Mattick Sr. says quite eloquently:

 

Instead of finding their orientation in the actual social conditions and their possibilities, the new leftists base their concerns mainly on a set of ideologies that have no relevance to the requirements of social change in capitalist nations. They find their inspiration not in the developmental processes of their own society but in the heroes of popular revolution in faraway countries, thereby revealing that their enthusiasm is not as yet a real concern for decisive social change.52

 

As Mattick described about how leftists in the core countries are waylayed by romanticism of the third-world guerrilla, perhaps we can also say the same about those Filipino leftists living under the full dominion of the State and their relationship to the guerrillas in the distant peripheries of the same country. The conditions of social and revolutionary change are very different in the internal cores and peripheries of the same country. The focus of gravity is the protracted people’s war and the defense of the rebel peripheries instead of thinking hard about the questions of class struggle in the cities.

 

Indeed, peristatism encourages the center of gravity to be at the rebel peripheries, the red areas. The most militant Filipinos are encouraged to mamundok, to go up the mountain, and desert the state. This leaves the cities impoverished of militants. Those who remain chant “peace talks, ituloy!” (continue the peace talks!). Yes, but what if we want class war? Just as the Moscow-aligned communist parties called for no war with the USSR, National Democracy calls for peace with the CPP-NPA-NDF. To be clear, this isn’t an indictment of the peace process. Realistically, the peace process can be used to push reforms in alignment with the National Democratic agenda and defend the autonomy of rebel peripheries. It is just that the push for the peace process saw the old communist party—the PKP-1930—become best buddies with the dictator Marcos Sr. and then sometime later, Duterte’s presidential campaign for a peace process resulted in disastrous opportunism from National Democracy in exchange for false promises of peace talks.

 

The peristatism of the rebel peripheries have another effect in an unexpected way. In the past two decades, we have seen an uncountable number of urban insurrections across the world: the Arab Spring, Occupy, the squares movement, Yellow Vests, the George Floyd uprisings, and many others. Yet the Philippines has not seen an urban insurrection of a similar caliber precisely because the most militant elements leave the city for mamundok. Indeed, when urban insurrections did happen in the Philippines, as in the 1986 People Power Revolution (also called EDSA Uno), and again in 2001 EDSA Dos and the failed EDSA Tres, rebel peripheries played a very small part. (To their credit, while their rebel peripheries played a small part, National Democracy in the urban centers did participate in EDSA Uno and Dos.) The CPP-NPA-NDF essentially allowed the liberal oligarchic opposition to take lead in EDSA Uno, leaving the left out in the cold as the oligarchy and the political dynasties was reinstated, leaving the working classes without leadership.

 

Peristatism also lives in isolation, and isolation often coincides with poverty. It is not necessarily that peristatism causes poverty, but that they coincide together. Indeed, the anarchy of the peripheries is anarchic precisely because these peripheries lack integration with the State and the world-capitalist system, leading to underdevelopment. It is not a coincidence that impoverished peripheries become rebel peripheries. It is said that in Bicol, “where the road ends, insurgency begins.”53 The Soviet Union and other so-called socialist states were isolated, and while we cannot discount impressive gains in human development, we cannot discount their separation from the vast interconnectedness of Western capitalism. Or perhaps that it is that they were never really well-connected to Western capitalism to begin with that they were able to wage revolution. In any case, rebel peripheries today are beset with economic isolation, even if there are some with impressive human development. Revolutionary projects like the Zapatistas and Rojavans alike may have impressive models of politics and social work, but remain economically isolated and underdeveloped. Maoist rebel peripheries in the Philippines are likewise quite impoverished. While we can sometimes hear of red areas controlled by the NPA that have impressive development due to rich protection rackets, these are more the exceptions that prove the rule.

 

So what? Are rebel peripheries and desertion useful or not? And if rebel peripheries cannot be discounted, what then ought their role be today? And what place do rebel peripheries and desertion have in the social revolution today? We start with some basic facts:

 

  1. Rebel peripheries are still sites of autonomy and bases by which to assault the State.
  2. Hydra-type organizational forms are more resilient to State power than dragon-types.
  3. Rebel peripheries push the center of gravity of a movement towards themselves.
  4. Islands of rebel peripheries are not enough if we want the whole world.
  5. Rebel peripheries are mired in the peristatist problem of isolation, a rare revolutionary island in a counterrevolutionary sea.

As an oft-repeated line in Oppenheimer (2023) says, “theory will take you only so far.”54 The fact of the matter is that revolutionaries have never solved the problem of revolutionary isolation. Even if the CPP-NPA-NDF wins State power tomorrow, they would just have an isolation problem the size of a nation-state, akin to Cuba, Venezuela, or Bolivia. State power fundamentally cannot solve the problem of revolutionary isolation. There are, of course, proposals to solve the problem of revolutionary isolation, a notable creative solution I think is Peter Kropotkin’s The Conquest of Bread (which dealt with the revolutionary isolation of a region the size of Paris and its environs that feeds itself and also reduces working hours),55 but none that have ever been proven to work.

 

Of course, there are some anarchists who don’t have a problem with the problem of isolation in peristatism and rebel peripheries. Desert, for example, revels in the freedom new rebel peripheries offers them in a time of climate crisis.56 But again, we want the whole world.

 

Unpacking Rebel Peripheries

The fact of the matter is that marronage and remontar as modes of struggle as the enslaved or colonized did it was shaped by the limitations of the technologies of power at the time. The colonial and slavocratic States of previous eras could only exercise State power in certain “developed” areas where plantations and taxable economic activity could take place, and therefore where powers of policing and slavery can operate. With desertion, people could simply leave these zones of development and civilization for where the mountain air makes one free. In corners of the world today where rebel peripheries persist, as in the Philippines, India, Mexico, and Algeria, the State is not sophisticated enough to exert complete police powers over its claimed territory. In such places, rebel peripheries remain quite viable modes of struggle.

 

But beyond literally deserting the State and start rebel peripheries in the mountains, can we rethink desertion for the Twenty-First Century? Or rather, if we unpack the concept of rebel peripheries to deserting the State and capital, building community autonomy, and organizing like a hydra, what would that look like? And what would it look like if we specifically want the whole world?

 

I am reminded that Peter Kropotkin, in several media, explained his opposition to a tendency to start isolated communal experiments, something similar to the desertion and community autonomy with rebel peripheries.57 He asked a leading question: “What would become of the European revolutionary movement if most women and men of strong individuality—most of those ready to rebel—went to settle in distant lands, trying to make colonies there?” The answer was simple enough: it would cause a drain in militancy; not to mention the creation of settler relations elsewhere. In the first communist rebellion, the very same people who took up arms against the Japanese and then the post-independence State became willing settlers in Cotabato, tying them to State-making in the region. In the current communist rebellion, the highest stage of class struggle is to mamundok—leaving the city for the guerrilla war. The first case is counterrevolutionary, and the second is revolutionary, but they have a similar effect: divesting the State-administered “white areas” of militancy.

 

Kropotkin’s solution to this is quite straightforward actually: instead of divesting revolutionary energies to communal experiments in the peripheries, just set these up precisely near the urban: “Well, the best spot for it is near London or near Paris!,” he says. Perhaps this is the revenge of Murray Bookchin: that there really is something about the city air that makes one free, that there is something qualitatively unique about the urban that allows for specific forms of collective action and class struggle that overcomes the isolation of the periphery.

 

But is it possible for urban struggles to desert the State and capital? After all, the very same urban force that concentrates populations also allows for the concentration of State powers of administration and policing. Sure, even in the urban there were areas where State power cannot coalesce and govern. One thinks of the Kowloon Walled City in Hong Kong or Free Derry in Ireland. These “urban peripheries” (and even a rebel periphery with Free Derry) can certainly prove that the urban can be sites of desertion and autonomy, but even the very fact of their statelessness only reaffirms the power of the State in the core governed areas. In hoc, ego regam—in this I will rule, to hell with over there!

 

But then again, urban peripheries usually emerges in specific or extreme circumstances. The Kowloon Walled City carved out its autonomy in the context of an inter-State jurisdictional dispute; Free Derry carved out its autonomy under conditions of civil war. Unlike rebel peripheries in the mountains which can defend their autonomy almost indefinitely by virtue of the anarchy of the peripheries and the distance from State power, urban peripheries can be reconquered by the State sooner or later. Then again, the State cannot suffer challenges to power so close to its center of power.

 

Perhaps instead of thinking of building community autonomy in terms of desertion, we ought think of it in terms of organized abandonment. Historically speaking, the State usurped the various functions of society in order to engender dependence from society onto the State.58 States historically used their terrorism to destroy the organizations and mutual aid associations of the working class.59 The State then legitimizes the functions it usurps and delegitimizes functions that it does not license. In the contemporary Philippines, this was most clear when the most able and learned health workers and leaders could not simply self-organize a sane pandemic response to COVID-19 simply because the State chose to legitimize a highly militarized mode of pandemic management under its own power. However, there are some populations where the State chooses not to provide various societal functions to, in essence abandoning them.

 

Again, the Black radical tradition and Black anarchic radicalism is central here, precisely because their radical tradition is one formed by the very premise of exclusion and organized abandonment by the State. As William C. Anderson and Zoé Samudzi summarizes as the “anarchism of Blackness,”

 

While bound to the laws of the land, Black America can be understood as an extra-state entity because of Black exclusion from the liberal social contract. Due to this extra-state location, Blackness is, in so many ways, anarchistic. African-Americans, as an ethno-social identity comprised of descendants from enslaved Africans, have innovated new cultures and social organizations much like anarchism would require us to do outside of state structures.60

 

And true enough, it is through challenging this organized abandonment by the State that Black communities form something akin to a “marronage-in-place.”61 Like the anarchic peripheries of the State, populations abandoned by the State largely live without the societal functions the State provides. Marronage-in-place replies to organized abandonment with desertion-in-place, through the creation of communities of care in defiance of abandonment. This is indeed what the Quilombo in West Oakland California did for a number of years with a social space.62

 

But organized abandonment by the State is different from desertion from the State in one crucial way: policing. Populations like Black America get none or few of the State services but all of its police and carceral violence. In previous modes of struggle, we have seen the Black Panther Party take over neighborhoods abandoned by the State and provide social functions of care. The Black Panthers were most dangerous not when they were shooting cops, but when they were providing social functions of care that the State refused to provide, hence why the State worked industriously to provoke armed confrontations with the Black Panthers over just doing the societal functions it usurped to begin with. In this sense, communities of care in defiance of abandonment was more dangerous than armed struggle.

 

As it happens, the Black Panthers declined precisely because it doubled down on its dragon-type organizing and even turning into internal authoritarianism and violence.63 Rather than facing a great betrayer, the internal authoritarianism simply drove people away and demobilized their movement. Shoatz’s rumination on marronage, dragons, and hydras—and indeed many other Black anarchic radicals—are precisely placed within the context of the failure of the Black Panthers’ organizational form.

 

The crucial difference in the sophistication of police carceral power and the experience of the Black Panther Party and successors like the Black Liberation Army informs what is perhaps the most significant project for Black autonomy today: Cooperation Jackson. Cooperation Jackson is a network of worker cooperatives and community institutions in Jackson, Mississippi that aims to build economic democracy and community power in communities that have historically been abandoned by the State.

 

In building community autonomy in the urban, Cooperation Jackson essentially satisfies Kropotkin’s concern against militancy drainage. In working with communities and populations abandoned by the State, they also operate in conditions similar to desertion and living in peripheries, albeit with all the amplitude the urban provides. That armed struggle is not central to their project, they are not a priority target for repression. And with committing to economic democracy, they commit to a hydra-type organization over a dragon-type (as they are a network of cooperatives and institutions), thereby avoiding the problems and issues faced with heads of the dragon, whether that be betrayal or incompetence.

 

In essence, what I am suggesting is that organizing for autonomous communities of care among abandoned populations could constitute a way to think about building autonomous projects in the Twenty-First Century. This is the beginning of a “mamundok-in-place,” something similar to the Black Panther Party, albeit instead of a Maoist dragon-type of organization, it would need to be a post-Maoist hydra-type of organization to effectively resist co-option, assassination, or isolation and pursue self-directed militancy.

 

This is not without issues. Autonomous projects in the city are still subject to policing and law. They would still be pressured by the logic of value and the need to make and rely on money. This has its own risks where cooperatives become sites of workers becoming their own harsh bosses. Furthermore, there is still a need to defend against the State and its law. However, the contours of this “mamundok-in-place” still need to be mapped. Part of this mapping requires an understanding of organized abandonment and its relation to armed struggle.

 

What is Being Subverted?

It is an oft-repeated line within National Democracy that armed struggle has its roots in organized abandonment by the State. The way it is framed is that the failure of reform and legal struggle alongside organized abandonment—poverty, landlessness, imperialism—feeds into people joining the armed struggle in the periphery.

 

Under different conditions in Black America, the failure of Black reform and legal struggle led to the creation of the Black Panthers Party, the demise of which led to the armed struggle of the Black Liberation Army. In the same way, the CPP argues that armed struggle becomes the primary choice.

 

Armed struggle, however, is not an inevitability from organized abandonment. Armed struggle is a deliberate choice through organizational agency won through initiative and organizing. The CPP consciously decided upon armed struggle based on emulating the Chinese model of armed struggle combined with historically-specific repression under the Marcos dictatorship. After the demise of the dictatorship, the Second Great Rectification reaffirmed the dogma of armed struggle despite the changing material conditions. However, it is clear that we are no longer under conditions of dictatorship. Even the CPP acknowledges that armed struggle is not the only way to pursue National Democracy. Yet armed struggle is still valorized as the highest form of class struggle.

 

The question then becomes: Is armed struggle the correct reaction to organized abandonment? Does it address organized abandonment in a necessary and sufficient way?

 

Paradoxically, armed struggle with the NPA reinforces organized abandonment. The presence of a people’s army makes a State less willing to enforce its rule of law and associated State welfare in a periphery. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as this abandonment is then coupled with a level of autonomy of an area from the State, which in turn reinforces its status as a rebel periphery. Indeed, this is best exemplified by the Zapatistas who have a more contagious and well-known political system. (Compared to the Zapatistas, and even others like the Maobadi of Nepal, the CPP-NPA-NDF are highly secretive of their underground government and there is not much scholarship is done on it.) But even with the Zapatistas, we see how the Mexican State simply abandons the whole of Zapatista Chiapas, and other rebel peripheries in Mexico like Cherán, and reinforcing the isolation these rebel peripheries experience.

 

But then again, in Mexico and the Philippines, armed struggle forces a localized crisis of dual power within a periphery—where the local state apparatus competes with the authority of the revolutionary movement. Unlike the so-called dual power projects in urban environments put forward by anarchists and libertarian socialists, the situation in rebel peripheries are closer to true dual power situations in that State power really does have to compete with revolutionary power. Legitimacy really is in competition in the rebel peripheries.

 

But we cannot speak of generalities. The conditions in Chiapas are different from the conditions in Cotabato. Armed struggle might be necessary and sufficient in Chiapas, but is it so in Cotabato?

 

Unlike the Zapatistas, the Philippine State and the CPP-NPA-NDF seem to be two sides of a single yet bipolar stable system—two sides of the same coin, so to speak. The underground government is the Philippine government’s shadow, just as the NPA is the shadow of the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Over more than fifty years of armed struggle, this system has cohered. The cities and the near-rural belongs to the Philippine government. But the forests, the mountains, the peripheries, and the many abandoned belong to the great underground. As Landauer reminds us, “the State is a social relationship.”64 This bipolar system is only made possible because the social relations of the State are brought to the peripheries where Maoist insurgents cohered their own shadow State power. Indeed, the stability of this bipolar system is still unified by the regime of proletarianization, work, alienation, and hierarchy.

 

I often return to Gilles Dauvé’s “When Insurrection Dies.” To quote at length:

 

Power does not come any more from the barrel of a gun than it comes from a ballot box. No revolution is peaceful, but its “military” dimension is never central. The question is not whether the proles finally decide to break into the armouries, but whether they unleash what they are: commodified beings who no longer can and no longer want to exist as commodities, and whose revolt explodes capitalist logic. Barricades and machine guns flow from this “weapon”. The greater the change in social life, the less guns will be needed, and the less casualties there will be. A communist revolution will never resemble a slaughter: not from any nonviolent principle, but because revolution subverts more (soldiers included) than it actually destroys.

 

To imagine a proletarian front facing off a bourgeois front is to conceive the proletariat in bourgeois terms, on the model of a political revolution or a war (seizing someone’s power, occupying their territory). In so doing, one reintroduces everything that the insurrectionary movement had overwhelmed: hierarchy, a respect for specialists, for knowledge that Knows, and for techniques to solve problems — in short for everything that plays down the role of the common man.65

 

Here, Dauvé challenges to think of armed struggle as something necessary and sufficient. Revolution, in this sense, is not necessarily the taking up of arms (though it can and often does), but rather subversion. The political power of the proletarianized do not come from the barrels of guns or in ballot boxes, but in subverting their class condition of proletarianization—the self-abolition of the proletariat. For the CPP, to be “proletarianized” is to accept the Party program and join the armed struggle. But proletarianization is the very imposition of abandonment, alienation, and the proletarian condition to our bodies by capitalist society. Bourgeois class power is constituted for class rule, while proletarian class power is constituted for the abolition of all classes. Those who talk of proletarian class power without any perspective on self-abolition have a corpse in their mouth.

 

In this sense, perhaps carving out rebel peripheries can and will have a role in subverting proletarianization as spaces of autonomy. The lines of desertion towards rebel peripheries could potentially act as a revolutionary underground railroad by which the proletarianized can escape to where the mountain air makes one free.

 

But armed struggle is itself insufficient. “The force of an insurrection is social, not military,”66 as At Daggers Drawn reminds us. Communist parties that are launching people’s wars certainly claim and believe they are fighting for the whole world, but the fight for proletarian class power is not in the peripheries, it is in the belly of the beast where proletarianization is most cohered. The National Democratic revolution, for all intents and purposes, is not the unleashing of workers from their commodification and proletarianization. Indeed, the NPA even works with “enlightened landlords”67 and I have heard at least one account of the NPA breaking a peasants’ strike. The stabilized system dividing the Philippines between the State and the underground government has eclipsed the possibility of the subversion of social relations. As such, the NPA seem content to carry out social democracy out of the barrels of guns.

 

In this sense, what really matters more in terms of organized abandonment is not the armed struggle, but the subversion of organized abandonment through the autonomous communities of care, the undoing of the conditions imposed by the civilizational order. Armed struggle may still become necessary, but its necessity is rooted in support of subversion and the revolutionizing of social relations, not to merely enforce the creation of rebel peripheries. In a sense, the NPA at least recognizes the necessity of the communities of care—as previously mentioned, they also provide healthcare and pedagogy to the far-flung peripheries. But they crucially fall short of revolutionizing social relations out of a fear of “left-opportunism,” thus leaving land rent, proletarianization, and wage relations largely intact.

 

What this suggests is that mamundok-in-place is something that deserts the current order towards refugia and attacks it from the position of subversion. The contours of mamundok-in-place becomes clearer when we see what is not being subverted in the Philippines today, in terms of the regime of proletarianization, gender, work, alienation, abandonment, and hierarchy.

 

Mamundok-in-Place

To the guerrilla, the boondocks and mountains represent lines of desertion, refugia from fugitivity, and open rebellion. For the anarchist, the whole world is our mountain. To mamundok-in-place is to see mountains of possibility and its lines of desertion in our everyday social relations. Climbing those mountains means to bring autonomy and subversion in all facets of our lives. The virtual rebel peripheries we build is in the anarchy of the everyday. Ultimately, it is not a question of urban versus rural rebel peripheries, but the whole world. We cannot be satisfied with peripheries! We are tired of living in the margins and the peripheries of this world! We want the whole world!

 

Once upon a time, the facets of life we now see as world systems began as seeds of possibility. Money and commodities existed for thousands of years yet only generalized to conquer the whole world within only the last few hundred years. Likewise, it is similar for States. Indeed, even for States, there are still places within the world where State power has not yet cohered or territorialized completely. Some of these are indeed in the anarchy of the peripheries, but even in the urban heart of States, State power is not totalizing and there are refugia.68 Within these refugia are seeds of possibility for another world.

 

After all, anarchists have historically not made use of the anarchy of the peripheries. Rather, anarchists more often nurture seeds of possibility in place. In the revolutions in Ukraine, Spain, Germany, Russia, in the anarchist armed struggle in Uruguay, the insurrectionary attacks in the contemporary Mediterranean, and as part of the united front in Rojava, anarchists have not taken advantage of the anarchy of the peripheries.69 There are many reasons as to why this is so, but it will suffice for our purposes to point out that anarchists are more fond of the “anarchy-in-place” rather than the “over-there” of the anarchy of the peripheries. Anarchy is, after all, what we make of it.

 

These refugia, liberatory seeds, and anarchy-in-place are not merely the machismo of revolution and insurrection. To mamundok-in-place also means to nurture the social relations of care. Indeed, friendship and freedom come hand-in-hand. As the Comité Invisible says,

 

“Friend” and “free” in English, and “Freund” and “frei” in German come from the same Indo-European root, which conveys the idea of a shared power that grows. Being free and having ties was one and the same thing. I am free because I have ties, because I am linked to a reality greater than me. (Emphasis in the original.)70

 

Our friends, our comrades, our communities of care are also refugia. This too is anarchy. Without care, without accountability and community, there is no insurrection.71 There may be no refugia we may desert to without it. These are the social relationships we do differently that undoes the State, as Landauer understood it.72 Our mountains of refuge are also our relations of care and the communities we build now with each other. It is from the seeds of these liberatory social relations that we generalize to the whole world.

 

Indeed, this is one of the key crises in National Democracy. They are in crisis over persisting issues over sexual exploitation. None in the eight components for rectification was about addressing the issue of rape.73 Indeed, the Central Committee of the CPP instead decried “petty bourgeois gender radicalism” on the same page! This has only deepened the crisis of sexual exploitation within National Democracy. Instead, to mamundok-in-place is to make care a revolutionary act, to undo the social relationships of the State, hierarchy, and patriarchy.

 

Thus, the contours of mamundok-in-place become clearer when we connect it to the insurrectionary project of the self-abolition of the proletariat, which itself is connected to desertion of the world of work, cisheteropatriarchy, and hierarchy. This proletarian self-abolition then feeds into the subversion of organized abandonment and towards the refugia of care. The mountains we climb, the refugia we find, the seeds we nurture are the liberatory social relations of care we build. And it is only through the subversion of the hierarchical and domineering social relations and our nurturing of rival seedlings that that project can come about.

 

This mamundok-in-place is the sober analysis of our own material conditions and learning the means by which social change can occur where we are now, and create that anarchy-in-place within our own context. In doing so, we may reject the a priori notion of armed struggle at the peripheries as an end-in-of-itself. Of course, this does not discount linking up with rebel peripheries in the future, once such conditions presents itself.

 

When we talk of building autonomous projects for the Twenty-First Century, this cannot be separated from the insurrectionary break or its necessity, or the care that makes it necessary. Again, what is crucially different with abandonment from desertion is the locality of policing and State power. Mamundok-in-place would also mean abolitionist steps towards the delimitation of the carceral functions of the State and replacing these with our own communities of care. When the revolutionary moment comes where an insurrectionary break can be acted upon, the moment can only be made actionable by what we build before it together.

 

At Daggers Drawn makes a key insight, noting that one can talk of building as many community assemblies, cooperatives, and other autonomous organizations as they like, but without the insurrectionary break, “breaking social normality by force,”74 these projects will remain marginal. To mamundok-in-place will also need cognizance of this contradiction, that the virtual rebel peripheries we build, the refugia we nurture, remain as peripheries in tension with our desire of the whole world. Though as peripheries, they are as seeds of an insurrectionary moment, waiting to generalize to the whole world when the current order can no longer suffice for the means of living.

 

The contours of the insurrectionary moment are always shrouded in the possibility of the future and even of the present. But what is clarified is the historical record. This mamundok-in-place requires dividing the dragon and unleashing the hydra. It is the communities of care in the face of organized abandonment. It is through self-directed militancy, and not the waiting for leaders, that this anarchy-in-place can come about.

 

Because of their position in the stability of the bipolar system, the conditions for the CPP to take advantage of the insurrectionary break has passed. That moment was EDSA Uno, the People Power Revolution. There, key moments for the insurrectionary break were ignored by all factions of the left. The workers looked to leadership and found only the misleadership of the left. This all the while the military rebels, the caciques, and the oligarchs mobilized towards their restoration.

 

A future insurrectionary break would perhaps be a moment where social relations of domination become untenable for reproducing our daily life. The social force of an insurrection has always been social, not military, and subversion will matter more than arms. Such a social force may perhaps look like the Cultural Revolution, albeit done right and directed against the world of domination. There was true self-directed militancy in the Cultural Revolution which saw the unleashing of the hydra of the people in all of its force. However, some of the various heads of the hydra opted to bite each other. Some heads were groomed by the Party-State against more revolutionary heads. The directions of the militancy was made obscure by many heads looking to misleaderships for direction. Those who were self-directed were ultimately betrayed by their Party-State. Insurrectionary libertarian post-Maoism would mean fulfilling the anarchic conclusions put forward by the Cultural Revolution.

 

But the point here is not the rejection of leadership outright, but the rejection of would-be leaders in search of followers. Dangerous are those who seek leadership for followers, for they are those who will lead astray. Such is the nature of hierarchy and dragons. Rather, the leadership of proletarians-in-abolition is collectively held through the hydra of self-directed militancy grounded in communities of care.

 

It is said that in the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. But the country of the blind is a place where sight is not needed to live and prosper. The country of the blind has no need for the one-eyed man because they can see in ways he is alien to.75 We are all living in that country of the blind, and there are one-eyed men all over who would say their sight privileges them to lead. This sight, whether theoretical-programmatic clarity or a self-declared vanguard, does not privilege anyone to lead. Sight is rather a responsibility, a way wherein we can build militancy over membership, a methodology of empowering. The point is not to lead the blind, but the add of the perspective of sight to their repertoire.

 

This is not to say that organization in the present moment is worthless—far from it; it will have its place. The organizations we build in defiance of abandonment can also be refugia, as virtual rebel peripheries. Mamundok-in-place necessarily builds towards the insurrectionary moment, towards the self-abolition of the proletariat, utilizing the refugia, nurturing the liberatory seeds, building the communities of care, developing lines of desertion, dividing the dragon, building the power of hydras, self-directed militancy and all. These things matter for what comes ahead.

 

There are refugia even in our daily life and the social relations we inhabit. From these refugia, we can win the whole world. To mamundok-in-place is to recognize the whole world is our mountain.

 

Author’s Note

This essay has been the product of a year of thinking, writing, and re-writing. Throughout this essay, I am deeply indebted to the Black radical tradition, particularly to Black anarchism and the Black anarchic radicals. I bring Black study in dialogue with the revolutionary traditions in the Philippines. I am also indebted to the many readers and commentators who read this manuscript and provided comments over the past year. I have noted in many places where I am indebted to specific comments.

 

But most of all, I am indebted to my comrades and friends. No piece of political theory is developed in isolation, and indeed, all writing is autobiographical, especially political theory. My comrade Butingtaon half-ironically identified with “insurrectionary libertarian post-Maoism.” Another, Warden Unit, offhandedly mentioned that what the NPA were doing in building autonomy is what we also want, but we just reject their ends of a State. Many in our affinity group stresses the centrality of care and consent. The beginnings of this zine was first conceptualized in dialogue with comrades at Partido Sosyalista. Whatever the deficiencies of the Comité Invisible, they wrote powerfully in To Our Friends, “I am free because I have ties, because I am linked to a reality greater than me.” Such are the contours of mamundok-in-place.

 

Pag-ibig at Galit, Love and Rage!

 

~Someone with the spurious nom de guerre “Simoun Magsalin”

 

NOTES

  1. Simoun Magsalin, “The Libertarian Elements in the Philippine Archipelago,” Anarchist Studies, October 2020, https://anarchiststudies.noblogs.org/article-the-libertarian-elements-in-the-philippine-archipelago/.

 

  1. This coinage was made possible with dialogue with Ruth Kinna.

 

  1. Thank you to Herbert Docena for calling attention to the need to discuss this.

 

  1. Gustav Landauer, “Weak Statesmen, Weaker People!” (The Anarchist Library, February 2017), https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/gustav-landauer-weak-statesmen-weaker-people.

 

  1. James C. Scott, Two Cheers for Anarchism: Six Easy Pieces on Autonomy, Dignity, and Meaningful Work and Play, Fourth printing, (Princeton Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2014), xx-xxi.

 

  1. James C. Scott, The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia, Yale Agrarian Studies Series (New Haven London: Yale University Press, 2009).

 

  1. I thank Mooncake for this excellent phrasing and necessary correction. Kim from Dylan’s class also raised this excellent point of correction.

 

  1. Thank you Hudda for this comment from my initial presentation at Dylan Rodríguez’s class.

 

  1. C. L. R. James, The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L’Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution, 2. ed., rev (New York: Vintage Books, a Division of Random House, Inc, 1989).

 

  1. Johnhenry Gonzalez, Maroon Nation: A History of Revolutionary Haiti, Yale Agrarian Studies (New Haven (Conn.): Yale University Press, 2019).

 

  1. Russell Maroon Shoatz, “The Dragon and the Hydra: A Historical Study of Organizational Methods,” 4strugglemag, July 2010, https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/russell-maroon-shoats-the-dragon-and-the-hydra.

 

  1. James, The Black Jacobins.

 

  1. Shoatz, “The Dragon and the Hydra”.

 

  1. I thank Kenneth Cardenas for bringing attention to this.

 

  1. Stephen B. Acabado, “The Archaeology of Pericolonialism: Responses of the ‘Unconquered’ to Spanish Conquest and Colonialism in Ifugao, Philippines,” International Journal of Historical Archaeology 21, no. 1 (March 2017): 1–26, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10761-016-0342-9.

 

  1. Reynaldo Clemeña Ileto, Pasyon and Revolution: Popular Movements in the Philippines, 1840-1910, 3rd ed. (Quezon City: Ateneo de Manila University Press, 1989), 185–86.

 

  1. Frederic Henry Sawyer, The Inhabitants of the Philippines (New York; London: Charles Scribner’s Sons; Sampson Low, Marston and Company; Project Gutenburg, 1900), 29, 210, 296, 305, https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/38081/pg38081-images.html.

 

  1. Generoso Maceda, “The Remontados of Rizal Province,” Philippine Journal of Science 64, no. 3 (November 1937): 313–21, https://philjournalsci.dost.gov.ph/past-issues-1.

 

  1. E.g. Murray Bookchin, The Limits of the City, 2nd ed. (New York, Evanston, San Francisco, London: Harper & Row, 1974).

 

  1. Maceda, “The Remontados of Rizal Province,” 315. Maceda here uses colonized language when he defines “police chief” and “members of police.” Maceda is likely a colonized creole who used concepts in his colonized society to refer to self-managed Indigenous ways of keeping people safe. I doubt these Remontado “police” were carceral like that of the colony’s police force, but rather just the people tasked and mandated to ensure the Remontado barrio’s safety, especially from creole landgrabbers.

 

  1. Personal corresopondence with Brian Tokar.

 

  1. Gregorio F. Zaide, Dagohoy: Champion of Filipino Freedom (Manila: Enriquez, Aldaya & Co., 1941), 11–18.

 

  1. Ileto, Pasyon and Revolution, 29–73.

 

  1. Ileto, ibid., 185–86.

 

  1. This guerrilla strategy never took place as the dictator Aguinaldo conspired against and eventually ordered the murder of General Luna.

 

  1. Ileto, Pasyon and Revolution, 163.

 

  1. Personal correspondence, former CPP cadre.

 

  1. Simoun Riple (Jose Maria Sison), Specific Characteristics of Our People’s War (Philippines: Communist Party of the Philippines, 2012), https://www.marxists.org/history/philippines/cpp/riple/1975/specific-characteristics.htm.

 

  1. Redfish, “Inside the New People’s Army,” Documentary, (Redfish, 2018); Nettie Wild, “A Rustling of Leaves: Inside the Philippine Revolution,” Documentary, (Kalasikas Productions, Chanel 4, 1988); Iliya Makalipay, “Have You Heard of the Revolutionary Movement’s Elections?” Liberation, March 2025, https://liberation.ndfp.info/main-stream/have-you-heard-of-the-revolutionary-movements-own-elections/.

 

  1. Kas Ned na Red, personal correspondence.

 

  1. Riple, Specific Characteristics of Our People’s War.

 

  1. Ang Bayan, “Alliance and Struggle Under the Duterte Regime,” Ang Bayan, June 2016, 1–2, https://philippinerevolution.nu/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/20160607en.pdf; Ang Bayan, “Gain Strength in an All-Round Way in Engaging the Duterte Regime,” Ang Bayan, July 2016, 1–2, https://www.bannedthought.net/Philippines/CPP/AngBayan/2016/20160707en.pdf; Joseph Scalice, “First as Tragedy, Second as Farce: Marcos, Duterte and the Communist Parties of the Philippines,” World Socialist Web Site, September 2020, https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2020/09/01/lect-s01.html.

 

  1. Ka Barry, “Resist Authoritarian Tendencies Within the Party! Let a Thousand Schools of Thought Contend! Comments on the Paper “Reaffirm Our Basic Principles and Rectify Errors” by Armando Liwanag,” Kasarinlan: Philippine Journal of Third World Studies 8, no. 1 (1992): 158–65, https://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/kasarinlan/article/view/303; Party Organizations in the Visayas and Manila-Rizal Regional Commission KRMR, “Declaration of Autonomy,” Kasarinlan: Philippine Journal of Third World Studies 9, no. 1 (1993), https://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/kasarinlan/article/view/1679.

 

  1. Walden Bello, “The Crisis of the Philippine Progressive Movement: A Preliminary Investigation,” Kasarinlan: Philippine Journal of Third World Studies 8, no. 1 (1992): 166–77, https://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/kasarinlan/article/view/304; Alex de Jong, “Hunting Specters: Paranoid Purges in the Filipino Communist Guerrilla Movement,” in Genocide, ed. Ügür Ümit Üngör (Amsterdam University Press, 2016), 113–30, https://doi.org/10.1515/9789048518654-006; Robert Francis B. Garcia, To Suffer Thy Comrades: How the Revolution Decimated Its Own, Revised edition (Mandaluyong City, Philippines: Anvil Publishing, 2018).

 

  1. Simoun Magsalin, Against Carceral Communism, For Abolition Communism!, 1st ed. (USA: Hates Cafe, 2022), https://haters.noblogs.org/files/2022/04/Abolition-Communism.pdf.

 

  1. Pierre Rousset, “After Kintanar, the Killings Continue: The Post-1992 CPP Assassination Policy in the Philippines” (July 2003), https://web.archive.org/web/20130722003041/https://internationalviewpoint.org/IMG/pdf/CPP-AssPol-03.07.04.pdf.

 

  1. Shoatz, “The Dragon and the Hydra”.

 

  1. Yiching Wu, The Cultural Revolution at the Margins: Chinese Socialism in Crisis (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2014).

 

  1. Sheng-wu-lien and Yang Xiguang, Whither China? (Marxists Internet Archive, 1968), https://www.marxists.org/subject/china/documents/whither-china.htm.

 

  1. Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party (Marxists Internet Archive, 2000), https://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1848/communist-manifesto/index.htm.

 

  1. Mia Wong, “When Communists Crushed the International Workers’ Movement,” Lausan, June 2021, https://lausancollective.com/2021/communists-crushed-international-workers-movement/; Wu, The Cultural Revolution at the Margins.

 

  1. Russell Maroon Shoatz and Steve Bloom, “Dragon and Hydra Revisited — A Dialogue” (Old and New Project, 2014), https://www.oldandnewproject.net/Essays/Maroon_D%20and%20H%20Revisited.html.

 

  1. Red Marriott, “Notes on Nepal: The Long March of Maoism” (Libcom.org, 2006-04/2013-08), https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/red-marriott-notes-on-nepal.

 

  1. See Bulatlatan, “Bulatlatan Archive,” Archive, Marxists Internet Archive, 2024, https://www.marxists.org/history/philippines/bulatlatan/index.htm.

 

  1. Thank you to Brian Tokar for the discussion that led to the addition of this segment.

 

  1. Murray Bookchin, The Next Revolution: Popular Assemblies and the Promise of Direct Democracy (London: Verso London, 2015), ch 8.

 

  1. Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1971), 82, https://archive.org/details/latheofheaven0000ursu.

 

  1. James Connolly, “James Connolly: We Only Want the Earth” (Marxists Internet Archive, 1907), https://www.marxists.org/archive/connolly/1907/xx/wewnerth.htm. Thank you Green Tea for this suggestion.

 

  1. Jose Maria Sison, “On ‘Foreign Monsters’ and the People’s War That Persists,” Kites Journal, October 2022, https://kites-journal.org/2022/10/27/on-foreign-monsters-and-the-peoples-war-that-persists/; Jose Maria Sison, “Great Achievements of the CPP in 50 Years of Waging Revolution” (National Democratic Front of the Philippines, August 2018), https://web.archive.org/web/20180921225858/https://ndfp.org/great-achievements-of-the-cpp-in-50-years-of-waging-revolution/.

 

  1. BISIG, “What Is BISIG ?” Bukluran Sa Ikauunlad Ng Sosyalistang Isip at Gawa (BISIG), August 2007, https://filipinosocialism.wordpress.com/what-is-bisig/.

 

  1. Personal correspondence with militants from the FAU.

 

  1. Paul Sr. Mattick, “Introduction to Anti-Bolshevik Communism” (2003), https://www.marxists.org/archive/mattick-paul/1978/introduction.htm.

 

  1. Thank you to Carolus Plebejus who alerted me to this.

 

  1. Christopher Nolan, “Oppenheimer” (Syncopy, Atlas Entertainment, 2023).

 

  1. Petr Alekseevich Kropotkin, The Conquest of Bread, 1907, https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/petr-kropotkin-the-conquest-of-bread.

 

  1. Anonymous, Desert (Stac an Armin St. Kilda: Little Black Cart, 2011), https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/anonymous-desert.

 

  1. Petr Alekseevich Kropotkin, Small Communal Experiments and Why They Fail, 1901, https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/petr-kropotkin-small-communal-experiments-and-why-they-fail.

 

  1. Steve Millett, “Neither State Nor Market: An Anarchist Perspective on Social Welfare,” in Twenty-First Century Anarchism: Unorthodox Ideas for a New Millennium, ed. Jon Purkis and James Bowen (London: Cassell, 1997), 24–40, https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/steve-millett-neither-state-nor-market.

 

  1. Peter Linebaugh and Marcus Rediker, The Many-Headed Hydra: Sailors, Slaves, Commoners, and the Hidden History of the Revolutionary Atlantic (Boston: Beacon Press, 2000).

 

  1. William C. Anderson and Zoé Samudzi, “The Anarchism of Blackness,” ROAR Magazine, no. 5: Not This Time! (2017), https://roarmag.org/magazine/black-liberation-anti-fascism/.

 

  1. I thank Kenneth Cardenas for this formulation. Mooncake was also invaluable with some discussion into how this marronage-in-place would look like.

 

  1. Ben Mabie and Joohyun Kim, “Strategy After Ferguson,” Viewpoint Magazine, February 2016, https://viewpointmag.com/2016/02/01/strategy-after-ferguson/. Thank you Mooncake for alerting me to this.

 

  1. Charles Edwin Jones, ed., The Black Panther Party Reconsidered (Baltimore: Black Classic Press, 2005), 408.

 

  1. Landauer, “Weak Statesmen, Weaker People!”.

 

  1. Gilles Dauvé, “When Insurrections Die,” Endnotes 1, no. 1 (October 2008): 51–52.

 

  1. Anonymous, At Daggers Drawn with the Existent, Its Defenders and Its False Critics (The Anarchist Library, 2012), 12.

 

  1. Amado Guerrero (Jose Maria Sison), “Our Urgent Tasks” (2008), https://www.marxists.org/history/philippines/cpp/guerrero/1975/urgent-tasks.htm.

 

  1. Kenneth Cardenas, “Two Premises: For Political Imagination, and for Varieties of Possibility,” Academic, Kenneth Cardenas, November 2023, https://kennethcardenas.com/2023/11/14/two-premises/

 

  1. See my essay “The Anarchy of the Peripheries” in Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter-Insurgency.

 

  1. Invisible Committee, To Our Friends, trans. Robert Hurley (Ill Will Editions, 2014), 66, https://illwill.com/print/the-invisible-committee-to-our-friends.

 

  1. Anonymous, Why She Doesn’t Give A Fuck About Your Insurrection (The Anarchist Library, 2009).

 

  1. Landauer, “Weak Statesmen, Weaker People!”.

 

  1. Ang Bayan, “Fulfill the Tasks of the Rectification Movement and Advance the Revolution!” Ang Bayan, December 2024, 13, https://philippinerevolution.nu/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/20241226en_special.pdf.

 

  1. Anonymous, At Daggers Drawn with the Existent, Its Defenders and Its False Critics, 7–8.

 

  1. I thank Adrienne Cacatian alerting me of this reversal taken from the H. G. Wells short story “The Country of the Blind” (1904).

 

 

Decolonize Anarchism – May Day on Fire: Against Empire and Theocracy

Posted on 01/05/2025 - 05/05/2025 by muntjac

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

The Western left will march on May 1st under red banners, chanting slogans of internationalism and workers’ power. But we must ask – is there room for Iranian workers in your May Day?

 

On April 26, 2025, a massive explosion rocked the Shahid Rajaee port near Bandar Abbas, Iran’s largest commercial port. The blast resulted in at least 70 deaths and over 1,200 injuries, according to official reports. The explosion originated from improperly stored chemicals used in missile fuel. The responsible company operates under the umbrella of Bonyad Mostazafan, is part of a network of Islamic charitable foundations tied directly to the Supreme Leader and the IRGC. These foundations are exempt from labor law, exempt from accountability, and sustained through the direct appropriation of social surplus. They represent a fusion of state capital and clerical authority, animated not by market efficiency but by ideological legitimacy and paramilitary discipline.

 

This catastrophe, like countless others before it, occurred not in a vacuum but within the structural context of disposability, abandonment, and class warfare from above. Bandar Abbas’s port is staffed largely by contract workers from impoverished ethnic minorities, particularly Baloch, Arab and Afro-Iranian communities. Many of them are undocumented, excluded from the most basic forms of legal protection. Some are refugees. Most are hired on short-term contracts with no benefits, no health coverage, and no recourse to independent union representation. These workers were engaged in highly dangerous work-chemical handling, container loading – without adequate safety equipment or emergency protocols. The explosion was the consequence of precisely this neglect, compounded by systemic corruption and a lack of regulatory oversight.

 

This is not an isolated event. Between May 2024 and April 2025, over 2,081 Iranian workers died due to unsafe working conditions. Children as young as 12 labor in mines, waste disposal and textile workshops. In the informal economy – which comprises up to one-third of Iran’s workforce – accidents, injuries, and deaths go unreported. The state, which should enforce labor laws and safety standards, is instead the largest perpetrator of labor exploitation. Some 90% of workers in Iran are employed under temporary contracts, and over a third are uninsured. In practice, this means no job security, no severance, and no healthcare, even for those engaged in the most hazardous work.

 

The repression of labor activism is systemic and ferocious. At least 19 labor activists remain in prison as of this writing. Among them are Sharifeh Mohammadi, Pakhshan Azizi, and Verisheh Moradi, three Kurdish labor and women’s rights activists sentenced to death. Like many Kurdish militants, they were held in prolonged solitary confinement, denied legal access, and tortured into a confession in a sham trial that violates every basic principle of justice. They are not alone. The fact that these women are Kurdish, secular, and radically committed to collective self-organization makes them dangerous in the eyes of a regime that depends on ethnic division, patriarchal control and submission to centralized power. The rope around their necks is not just the regime’s – it is the hangman’s knot of all counterrevolution: nationalism, authoritarianism, and the mystification of captial.

 

The racialization of labor and repression is stark: in Kurdistan, kulbars (cross-border porters) are routinely killed by border guards in Iran’s southeast, Baloch workers, often undocumented, face daily exploitation and militarized violence. In April 2025, eight Pakistani Baloch workers were gunned down in Mehrestan. Killed not for politics, not for protest, but for being poor, racialized and disposable. At least 50% of executions in recent years have targeted Baloch individuals, who make up only 5% of the population. This racialized proletariat – mobile, informal, and excluded – represents one of the most vulnerable yet most radical sectors of the Iranian working class.

 

The plight of Iranian workers must also be read through the lens of gender. Women workers in Iran face the double burden of labor exploitation and patriarchal repression. They are pushed into the most invisible and least protected forms of labor. In unregulated sectors like domestic work and agricultural labor, they are routinely exposed to sexual violence and economic coercion. Female labor activists, such as Sosan Razani and Sepideh Qoliyan, have faced imprisonment, flogging and exile. At Bandar Abbas, many of the injured were women subcontracted into logistics and custodial roles, paid far less than their male counterparts, and denied maternity or medical leave.

 

Against this backdrop, the regime continues to perform an anti-imperialist script. Its leaders claim to defy U.S. hegemony while simultaneously engaging in back-channel negotiations with Washington. These diplomatic maneuvers serve only to reinforce elite power. They do nothing to alleviate the conditions of mass unemployment, unlivable wages and state terror faced by Iran’s workers. The regime uses anti-imperialist rhetoric to justify militarism abroad and pression at home, criminalizing dissent and blaming sanctions for domestic failures, while continuing to implement neoliberal austerity policies dictated by the IMF blueprint: privatization, deregulation, and the dismantling of public services.

 

This hypocrisy– where the Iranian state denounces imperialism while exploiting and repressing its own people-is too often mirrored by segments of the Western left. Trapped in a Cold War binary mindset, they reduce Iran to a simple victim of U.S. aggression, ignoring the reality that the regime crushes labor movements, jails teachers and retirees, and executes minority workers. By framing these atrocities as unfortunate but inevitable responses to sanctions, they erase the agency of Iranian workers and revolutionaries who resist both imperialism and the authoritarian regime. True anti-imperialism must center the struggles of the oppressed – not their oppressors in anti-American clothing.

 

The labor movement in Iran today is fragmented but persistent. Between January and April 2025 alone, there were 44 labor protests across 26 cities, from petrochemical workers in Mahshahr to rural health workers in Manab. These protests are not simply about wages; they are about the right to live, the right to organize, and the right to dignity. In Kurdistan, Balochistan, Khuzestan, and Hormogan – regions of ethnic oppression and economic dispossession – workers are rising up not only against economic exploitation but against the very structure of the state that maintains it.

 

The Western left will march on May 1st under red banners, chanting slogans of internationalism and workers’ power. But we must ask – is there room for Iranian workers in your May Day? 

 

When you denounce U.S. imperialism and condemn neoliberalism, do you name the 2,000 Iranian workers killed last year in preventable workplace “accidents”? Do you speak of the Baloch laborers criminalized and executed, or the Kurdish kilbars shot on mountain paths? Or are these lives too messy, too resistant to your binary frameworks – too inconvenient to your alignment with whichever state you feel obliged to defend or oppose? You claim solidarity. But when labor organizers in Iran are imprisoned, tortured, even sentenced to death, too many of you look away.

 

You do not need to echo the lies of Washington or Tel Aviv to name the crimes of Tehran.

 

If your anti-imperialism does not include those fighting from below – against both local despotism and global capital – then it is not solidarity. It is shadow diplomacy. International solidarity must refuse false choices. To support the working class of Iran is to support their right to organize autonomously, to resist both domestic repression and foreign domination and to imagine a future beyond theocratic capitalism and imperial violence.

 

May Day is not about choosing your favorite regime. It is about the power of a class that has no regime, no flag, no master. 

 

Stolen from instagram.com/p/DJF7luJPnSz find more from the authors at linktr.ee/decolonizeanarchism

Posts navigation

Newer 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.

  • 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.