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

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2. 

[A4 PDF] [US-Letter PDF]

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

Patrick Jonathan Derilus – the BLA greets Rodney Hinton Jr.

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

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

Write a letter.

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

 

Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

Posted on 02/05/2025 - 13/05/2025 by muntjac

We intended to publish this on Mayday but we were too busy slacking. Huge thanks to everyone who wrote in, it means the world to us that you’d trust us with your ideas, hopefully this collection inspires a new wave of troublemaking.

The cover depicts a riotous scene with photos from Jakarta, Martinique, Harehills, Thailand and England. There are also several deer eating abortion herbs.

This is a whopping 130 pages so turnaround is gonna take longer than usual, however a zine version is in the works and will be posted soon.

To (pre) order a copy, click here.

If you have any questions/want to order in bulk, please send us an E-mail.

PDF

A5 Reader

llustrations

Front cover by Naga

Stickers by @merapalberang

Rear artwork on the booklet version is by Suar Padma a network of artists in Indonesia.

Supplements (Included in all mailorder copies)

Sticker Set (6x 4”x6” B/W Thermal Labels) PRINT

08 – Revolution or Reification?: A Critique of FRSO’s Political Program (A5 Zine) [PDF Pending]

Simoun Magsalin – Rebel Peripheries (A5 Zine) [Print] [Read]

Anon – Whither Black Anarchism? : An Anarchist Critique of Contemporary Black Anarchist Culture in the United States (one-pager) [A4 PDF] [US-Letter PDF]

Contents.

Mutt. – Editorial

Looking at the broad counterinsurgent tactics in babylon and across the world – from funding and surveillance to police-friendly A–B marches – Mutt tells us why it’s important to know your enemy.

Zhachev – They Who Returned to the Rock

Zhachev draws connections between ancient Nabataeans, historical Indigenous resistance, and deep knowledge of the land as he proposes a critical decolonial reading of ‘Dune’.

Mar – this poem is dedicated to uncle

Mar dedicates, with the incandescent clarity of the midday sun, a poem to uncle – and all the aunties, NGOs, beckies and bootlickers, too.

Sidiq – Pengar / Hangover

Sidiq shares a poem in defiance of colonial civilisation. Sidiq is part of two publishing collectives: ___contemplative [Instagram] andtalaspress [Instagram], and his prisoner support group is taking donations: einzine16@gmail.com

Margeret Kimblerly & Roddy Rod – Martinique’s History of Resistance

Abridged transcript of a discussion between Margaret Kimberley and Roddy Rod on the situation in Martinique, including its past and present colonial relations with France, internal Martinican politics, and ongoing insurrection.

Simoun Magsalin – The Anarchy of the Peripheries

Simoun Magsalin takes us through landscapes of peripheries and asks what anarchisms might be created there. What can we learn from the specificities of failures and successes of anarchist projects? Where do we go from here, wherever we currently are?

Leonardo Torres Llerena – Toward an Indo-American Revolution

With generosity and criticality, Leonardo Torres Llerena examines the legacy of José Carlos Mariátegui, an early C20th Peruvian Marxist writer and activist, and why his work is relevant for contemporary anarchist tendencies with regard to Indigenous-led uprisings. 

CharlieBanga & Semiyah – Autonomous Submersion

CharlieBanga & Semiyah discuss ‘autonomous submersion’, a term they originated to foreground Black autonomy as refusal to submit to enslavement by instead choosing death. ‘May we all be as brave and resilient as the original black autonomists.’

Anon – Our Burning Memory

Unflinchingly looking at fear, cowardice victimhood as constituting whiteness, Anon urges us to remember our capacity for wielding power and to consciously recognise our revolutionary fighting spirit.

Patrick Jonathan Derilus – The Immovable Black Lumpenproletariat

Looking at Black social formations that resist the State and its white colonial violence, Patrick Jonathan Derilus shares a critical history of Black factions and gangs that foreground abolitionist responses.

Fawaz Murtada – Why Would You Become an Anarchist in Sudan?

An anarchist in Sudan explains why anarchism offers clarity in the struggle against multiple failed social systems, and how the anarchist movement in Sudan has contributed to community aid and education during war.

Daniel Adediran – Where is Black Anarchism in the UK?

Contextualising the means and ends of anarchism within historical African societies and modern Black radical traditions, Daniel Adediran proposes Espicifismo as a way forward for Black Anarchism in the UK.

Anon – Principles for the coming Yankee invasion / Principios para la invasion gringa que se viene

A Mexican anarchist predicts what will happen in the coming year if the Trump government is not stopped.

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

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

Group Of Informal Affinity – Reject the National Army law

A fiery communiqué from insurrectionists resisting the Indonesian state.

Muntjac Collective – Protect Yourself

We have two suggestions on how you and your groups can prepare yourselves.

Anon – Alexa, take me to prison!

An analysis of how hostile technology is embedded in counterinsurgency, plus tactics and experimental ideas for what anarchists can do to create alternative cultures of operational security.

Haraami – Follow the Fires

A diagnosis of how counter-insurgent forms of identity politics leverage scenes and milieus as incubators of insular and fickle social competition and calls upon revolutionaries to focus instead on fidelity to uprisings and practical questions of revolution.

Mutt. – What Color Is The Smoke? (In conversation with Follow The Fires)

A embrace and criticism of a recent article on counter-insurgent forms of identity politics, plus reflections and memories of farcical moments in POC anarchist projects of the past and a Black anarchist project in the UK.

Mar – An Introvert’s Guide to the Insurrection

Want to do insurgency but are put off by large social gatherings? Don’t worry, Mar is here with a light-hearted DIY guide on how to make revolution happen.

poet of da soil – untitled

poet of da soil shares a poem that calls for rebellion in the form of life.

Anon – Selections From Disquietude Laboratory

Three poems from an Indonesian language egoist anarchist zine. 

Anon – Selections from Kompilasi Puizine

A powerful introductory note and three poems pulled from a huge compilation of Indonesian-language anarchist poems, published during the ongoing clashes with the state.

Mutt. – Editorial

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

What motivated us to theme this second issue of the magazine around Insurgency & Counterinsurgency  is our desire to crystialize our dispersed experiences of betrayal, repression and defeat into not only a critique of the left and some sections of the anarchist scene but to present an alternative with teeth.

 

We also want to draw more attention to the lessons we could be learning from the moments of refusal that do happen here and of course lessons from movements in Palestine, Kanaky, Martinique, Guadeloupe, Kenya, Greece, Indonesia, West Papua, Mexico, Argentina, Chile or elsewhere.

 

Before we go any further, it’s important to define terms;

 

Insurgency – an insurgency is a formation of lightly armed people waging asymmetrical warfare against a larger, centralized enemy. Typically, this enemy (to the insurgents) is the state which dominates the given territory or an occupying force that has moved into an area.

 

The police here and elsewhere frame their study of the anarchist movement that separates itself from the theatre that is the left wing of capital through this lens, no matter what they call us, the state is the only terrorist. Further to this, we should point out that we’re not insurgency fetishists as we’re not inspired by the insurgencies of fascists but instead insurgencies against colonialism, capital and the state.

 

Counterinsurgency – counterinsurgency is a term to define a range of tactics utilized by an occupying force to repress insurgences that have formed against them.

 

There are a myriad of tactics used by occupiers to maintain their control, most of which are “direct” in nature: Blockades or Checkpoints to funnel insurgent traffic through regions the occupation has better control of. Surveillance Infrastructure, Patrols, or Quick Reaction Forces (highly mobile units equipped with “force multiplier” equipment, trained to respond to any attack on the occupations infrastructure)

 

These are always complemented by tactics of a more “indirect” nature. The use of torture or bribes to gain information, the spreading of disease, the use of chemical weapons, psychological warfare, propaganda, byzantine regulation to mentally exhaust the people trying to etch out a way of life under occupation, the use of paramilitaries for plausible denability is often complemented with the creation of counter-gangs [1] (lightly armed groups trained by the occupation to both delegitimize the initial insurgency and to actively hunt them down and kill them)

 

In the past few years, we’ve been witnesses to insurgent elements in uprisings against the state in Belarus, Hong Kong, the Black anti-police uprising across the so-called US in 2020, Indonesia, Kanaky, Martinique, Guadeloupe and elsewhere. A new stage of anti-colonial struggle in Palestine began with the Al-Aqsa Flood and despite heightened genocidal tactics by the occupation and its allies, the resistance has continued. In Myanmar, anti-junta insurgent groups still fight the Tatmadaw. In West Papua, Insurgent groups persist against the Indonesian armed forces. There are others, but I only have so many pages to spare.

 

At the same time, we’ve seen a burgeoning arms race in counter-insurgent tactics to crush uprisings in their infancy or to wear them out at their heights. Here, the horizon looks bleak for those of us who rise in anger at the British state:

 

In the prisons, more weapons are being introduced after an attack on prison guards, the punitive raid at HMP Garth still rings in the ears of prisoners once under the illusion that the wave of early releases has signaled a coming ease in the quality of life on the inside [2].

 

Stepping outside, you’ll likely come face to lens with the British pathological urge to film fucking everything, this will deepen as the police introduce permanent facial recognition technology installations to complement the preexisting checkpoint-style facial recognition vans. This combined with the prevalence of apps like PimEyes [3] is enough to make anyone anxious.

 

It’s (still) a police carnival, if you’ve had the displeasure of participating in Babylon’s various protest movements, you’ve seen it. The counterinsurgency has many faces but what it tends to look like is the perpetual appeal for calm, for peace, the prevention of de-arrests,calls for “non-violence”. Specifically,

It looks like the PSC’s (Palestine Solidarity Campaign) leadership taking down an article by Scotland PSC talking about how the police sent armed response and made several arrests during a static demo outside of a fucking Home Bargains supermarket. It looks like Representasians pushing for Hate Crime legislation deceptively wrapped in the language of anti-racism [4]. It looks like  Black ‘Security’ organisations like Forever Family serving as a de facto police force at demonstrations in Black neighbourhoods.

Fuck them, they know what side they’re on.

 

Austerity for everyone but the police, 13,000 new cops, new drone tech, a glimpse of which was seen last summer a drone hovered above a prearranged antifascist counter-demonstration meeting point with its speaker blaring “REMOVE YOUR MASKS OR YOU WILL BE ARRESTED”. In a video posted to TikTok the Metropolitan Police illustrated their ongoing campaign of installing plainclothes police officers inside shops frequently targeted by shoplifters.

 

New power granted to the police has criminalized masks, tactics that work and spoof their tech are threats to the techno dystopian hellscape we live in. The police are already using predictive policing algorithmic software to aid in their campaigns of predation, speaking of which, the British Transport Police jumped with joy as a new transphobic supreme court decision has given them the chance to further their frequent abuses against women and children. On top of all of this, a new FBI style police agency is on the cards and ongoing repressive projects like Operation Adream are on our minds once again [5].

 

Elsewhere, the feeling seems mutual:

 

In Indonesia, anarchists and students who rose against new laws that would return the country to military rule have faced off against counter-gangs of plainclothes cops dressed like demonstrators, the police have re-routed ambulances full of wounded protestors to police stations, police have destroyed supplies of water and food prepared to sustain the fight and have utilized hardware that intercepts mobile phone data, notably, using it to try to access people’s Whatsapp accounts (these protests have largely been organised via social media). The police use powdered dye to mark the clothes of people gathering at pre-arranged protest sites, this is paired with the installation of new cameras [6].

 

In Greece, the New Democracy government has tried and failed to distract people from its shortcomings through repression [7]. On top of this the communist KKE again join the forces of the counter-insurgency calling the Koukoulofori (“hooded ones” in Greek) cops as they pack their banners into their bags and head home the second the molotov cocktails and tear gas start flying. This again reminds us of their collaboration with the police in defense of the parliament and the Golden Dawn fascist organisation in the past [8].

 

In Nigeria, politicians can easily dip into the large numbers of unemployed young people to form counter-gangs to repress protests on their behalf.

 

In Turkey, police use irritant chemical sprays to force protestors to remove their masks so they can be photographed for follow-up arrest.

 

In Turtle Island, during a daytime direct action against parked police vehicles in “NYC”, police use drones to track the anarchists as they disperse. Automatic license plate readers, Instagram captions, and fingerprints were used to aid in the prosecution of 3 alleged Arsonists at Tesla car dealerships [9]. The RICO charges levelled against the Stop Cop City movement show a clear attempt at the criminalization of solidarity itself [10].

 

Are we fucked then?

 

On the contrary, despite the billions of pounds poured into the apparatus of the counter-insurgency, opportunities for disruption, refusal and freedom through negation exist everywhere. If you’ve been paying attention, people are taking these opportunities, the misery of everyday life is vulnerable, you just need to be determined.

 

More sophisticated knowledge of the technological tools of repression can help us stay on the outside, anarchists recognizing the fact that anti-repression is everyone’s responsibility could help those on the inside survive the regime of isolation and deprivation too.

 

I’m drawn back to the Creole proverb Sé ti bwa ka fè gwo difé

Smouldering little branches, when grouped together, can fuel a great fire.

 

Mutt.

01/05/2025

 

Recommended Further Reading 

 

An Open Letter To The International Anti-Prison / Anti-Repression Gathering (2024)

returnfire.noblogs.org/post/2024/03/25

 

To the International Anarchist Movement: Three Security Proposals

notrace.how/blog/three-proposals/three-proposals

 

Encrypted Messaging for Anarchists

anarsec.guide/posts/e2ee

 

We (MUST) Keep Us Safe: An interview with a Long-Term, Anonymous Anarchist Comrade on Repression, Trauma, Security Culture, and Revolutionary Solidarity

thefinalstrawradio.noblogs.org/post/2025/01/12

 

Bristol Anarchist Black Cross

bristolabc.org

 

In The Belly: a journal by and for people who are held captive by the Prison-Industrial Complex.

bellyzine.net

 

Mongoose Distro: material solely for the purpose of achieving breakdown of prison through disruption.

mongoosedistro.com

 

International Day of Solidarity with Marius Mason & All Long-Term Anarchist Prisoners 

june11.noblogs.org

 

International Week of Solidarity with Anarchist Prisoners (23 – 30 August)

https://solidarity.international

 

 

NOTES

[1] kalasnyikov.hu/dokumentumok/frank-kitson-gangs-countergangs.pdf

[2] iwoc.iww.org.uk/2024/11/03

[3] actforfree.noblogs.org/2025/01/29

[4] pearnuallak.com/against-hate-crime

[5] returnfire.noblogs.org/post/2024/03/25 Page 49.

[6] For more like this: www.notrace.how/threat-library

[7] thefinalstrawradio.noblogs.org/post/2025/01/26

[8] ananarchistcalledmutt.noblogs.org/post/2025/03/08/the-kkke

[9] archive.ph/65VH6

[10] thefinalstrawradio.noblogs.org/post/2025/03/30

 

 

Zhachev – They Who Returned to the Rock

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mar – this poem is dedicated to uncle

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

no to the uncle who told us his hijabi cousins feel safer calling the police so we should all comply while the st georges set fire to the hotel exits

no to the aunties in glittering geles shaking coloniser hands in blood stained palace galas

no to the OBE MBE EDI workshops that report me to HR because my tone makes them feel uncomfortable

no to zionism, nazism, hindutva fascism, beckies who think their good hair buys them access to white-ism

no to the charity philanthropy bursary purchasing black and brown boys for the prevent to prison pipeline

no to assimilation respectability politicking boot-licking do you season the leather or have you sold off your taste for spice too

no to the head down keep quiet change your name to something more comfortable to unmelanised tongues if they can pronounce guattari they will honour my grandmother’s legacy

so no

no to uncle

no to uncle pouring limp water on the fire of my rage

Sidiq – Pengar / Hangover 

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

Pengar

Selama kekuasaan berdiri tegak menghadap

Dan menjadi ancaman bagi kebebasan hidup.

Takkan berhenti ku persembahkan Pemberontakan bak perampok pembuat kekacauan

Menjelma perompak menyusur lautan.

Hingga koleris busuk peradaban takkan menemukan lagi celah

Hingga semua rata dengan tanah.

 

Hangover 

As long as power stands tall

and threatens the freedom of life.

I will not stop presenting

Rebellion like a robber making chaos

Incarnate pirates along the sea.

Until the rotten colonialists of civilization

will find no more loopholes

Until all is razed to the ground!

 

From Palang Hitam Anarkis:

Sidiq is an anarchist, illegalist and an individualist.

On the 12th of July 2024, state authorities had arrested him for cannabis use and possession. He often contributes to anarchist publishing and street libraries, involvement in soccer hooligan club, clashes in protests and a passion for writing poetry. Sidiq is looking at a possible 10 year prison term.

His support group are taking donations via paypal at; einzine16@gmail.com

You can write to Sidiq;

Muhammad Ilyas Sidiq

Lapas (prison) Kebonwaru, Kec.

Batununggal, Kota Bandung, Jawa Barat

40272

Indonesia

Sidiq is part of two publishing collectives; Contemplative Editions and Talas Press who publish anarchist books.

 

Contemplative Editions

contemplative@riseup.net

@___contemplative [Instagram] 

contemplativepublishing.noblogs.org

 

Talas Press

@talaspress [Instagram] 

https://linktr.ee/talaspress

 

For more information on anarchist anti-prison struggle in so-called Indonesia, find Palang Hitam Anarkis [Anarchist Black Cross] online at palanghitamanarkis.noblogs.org or on Instagram @ palang__hitam

Margeret Kimblerly & Roddy Rod  – Martinique’s History of Resistance

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

Margaret Kimberly The Caribbean island Martinique, is an overseas department of France, but its people are in protest against the government in Paris. The most recent protest occurred because of the high cost of food due to the presence of food distribution monopolies. Roddy Rod is an anti-kepone activist, a pan-African, anti-imperialist resident of Martinique. He is also a resident of the African nation the Ivory Coast. He speaks on behalf of other anarchists in Martinique who are engaged in disruptions on behalf of the people there. He joins us from Martinique.

Roddy Rod Thank you margret, it’s an honor to be here.

MK I don’t think Americans know much about Martinique, people think of it as a colony when in fact it is France, just as Hawaii is the US even though it’s far from the mainland. Despite being a part of France, people there do not have the same material conditions that other citizens of France have. There have been protests, intermittent protests and there were some recently about the high costs of food. What is it that causes these differences in treatment and the difference in food prices?

RR The obvious response is that it’s 7,000 Kilometers from France, Martinique has a colonial history. You see, Margret, colonisation has multiple faces it can be destroying Haiti, as France has done, it can be through false decolonisation within West Africa and keep the money and it can also be through departmentalisation where its a still a french department but you always have to fight and to scream to have the same treatment. Some people still choose to fight for equality, I don’t have the pretension to speak for those people, I respect them, but I’m not part of them.

As far as the situation here, there is an association that started with claims, the strict claim was in response to a commission against the monopolies in Martinique, in 2023. Monopolies within the food distribution industry have been made to answer as to why the cost of food distribution is so high. In regards to that there is an association who started claims saying “you say that Martinique is france, then the prices then the food has to be at the same price as in france” that is when everything really started. Its nothing new, that fight against the monopolies has been going on for centuries, mainly within our modern history in Martinique, it has erupted and never really stopped, its calmed down but its not gonna calm down anymore, in 2009 and then for other reasons in 2019, 2020 and now in 2024.

So, that association, their strict claim is “nothing more” they don’t talk about colonisation, they don’t talk about imperialism, their claim is France has to manage something in order for the food to be at the same price as in france. That is the starting point in September, 2024.

MK It’s interesting, I use the example of Hawaii, being a US state, even though it’s far away. They also have very high food prices. It seems, there is a connection between these places that are allegedly part of another country which prevents them from doing what’s right by their people. It seems that Martiqnue should secure food from the rest of the region, the Caribbean and other nations. Is that not possible?

RR That’s when the historical context comes in, thank you for that and yes I believe it would be a very rich conversation with people from Hawaii and from Puerto Rico as well. The historical context within Martinqiue is that there is a colonial pact that doesn’t say its name anymore, that is still in place with its economic function Martique, as with many countries in the Caribbean, has gone through the genocide of Natives and then the deportation of Africans forced through slavery to work. Then thanks to the brave people of Haiti, we have gone through a process of abolition of slavery.

Slavery in Martinqiue was abolished in 1848. What happened at that time? Descendants of enslavers, who were enslavers the day before. They were compensated for the loss of the forced labor, they kept much of their land and they kept their connections with the French elites. They kept the same economic model we have today in Martinique in which we plant an aggressive monoculture. We plant bananas and sugar canes, some of these are for rum. These are exported on boats as raw products. These same boats come back with products from france. 80% of what we consume in Martinique comes from the imports from France.

The individuals who are within the export and import industry are in a community, that we call the Bekes and there are big names within the Bekes, they are a caste, they have a racial way of functioning which is white supremacism. They are descendants of enslavers, that’s the issue we still have in Martinique.

MK So, the people who control Martinqiues economy are white people, descended from the slaveholding class?

RR It’s not just white people, because even white people in France are against this, there are a lot of French people who are against this way of functioning, it’s caste, it’s white supremacy, it’s not white privilege. Which is a different problem, it’s white supremacy at its purest. We have people whose ancestors have been compensated for the loss of their workforce when slavery in Martinqiue was abolished. They kept lands, they kept economic power. They kept growing through the centuries, through the next generations. So I’m oppressed by the same last names that my grandmother, my great grandmother, my great great grandmother were oppressed under. Those are the same last names, its caste.

MK So, it is a class issue?

RR Yes, it’s a capitalism issue. We have white people as allies, it is just capitalism at its purest. The consequence is not just the food price, everything is more expensive here. Another consequence is Kepone, Chlordecone and in the US Kepone was manufactured by in the US by Allied Chemicals.

MK So, Kepone is an insecticide, correct?

RR Initially, it was not authorised on US soil for us, it was authorised for Export. In 1974, at the warehouse of Allied Chemicals, there was an issue with AlliedChemicals. The workers were infected, the river was infected as well, it is a highly toxic pesticide. In the US, this issue was handled quickly, banana producers that were importing this pesticide in Martinique went and bought the authorization for them to bring production somewhere else. They knew of its toxicity since 1975. As of today, the use of this pesticide was stopped in France in 1990, in Martinique it was used until 1993. That lobby bought a lot of the pesticide before the ending date came in.

MK So this pesticide was banned in the US for 50 years but it was allowed to be used in Martinique. Is it still being used in Martinique?

RR Not officially, since 1993. The reason why I’m very meticulous in what I say is because of the arguments in courts. The consequence is, a lot of our soil, our rivers and some of our seas have been poisoned for more than 500 years. It can poison the Chickens, the Fish, it is an environmental catastrophe. There is a UN report that classifies Martinqiue and Guadeloupe as two of the fifty most countries polluted on earth.

Why I talk about Kepone is the same people, the same companies that plant bananas are the same ones importing food.

[…]

MK The protest over these conditions, in this case, high prices. What is it that people want? Do they want to be treated more equitably, do they want to be independent of France? What is the demand of the protest?

RR Martinique, in my opinion, is at a crossroads. There is a consensus, things need to change. Everybody agrees, even in France. There are three camps;

– The majority of people want to fight for quality.

– There are people who want to start the process of autonomy

– There are more radicals, like myself, who want to go through the fight for independence.

The people who want to fight for autonomy and those who want independence are allies. We don’t agree on everything but we want to push the line forward for emancipation, whether it has to go progressively or it has to be more radically more drastic.

MK What is the outlook for any of those things happening? For autonomy or independence?

RR I’ll take some time to explain to you, what has happened in terms of protest in the last 15 years. Before I say this, Martinique has a rich history of fighting against colonialism and for independence, even through minority camps.

We have the insurrection that took place in 1870 led by Lumina Sophie. We have many radicals throughout our history, we have Frantz Fanon, Aimé Césaire the L’OJAM (Organisation de la Jeunesse Anticolonialiste de la Martinique / Anticolonialist Youth Organisation of Martinique) who faced répression. We had Martiniquans joining the ARC (Alliance révolutionnaire caraïbe / Caribbean Revolutionary Alliance) after the ARC was banned and brought down, some people in Martinqiue kept going like the Sons of Telga. Telga was one of the major figures of the 1870 insurrection in Martinique.

What I’m trying to say is, even if it’s a minority, we still have members of the independence camp who keep fighting for independence and we have a rich history of fighting. Even if the people of Martinique continue fighting for equality.

The French didn’t push forward equality in our history through kindness. People fought, people died, for equality.

The consequences of what happened in Martinique in the past few weeks. You have 134 small and big businesses that have either been vandalized, looted or burned down. You have more than 560 people that have lost their jobs, you have losses between around $70 million dollars this is all spread between 19 towns. Coming down to this, it’s very sad. Martinique is 1,128 square meters. It’s 360,000 people. 200 people were arrested as France sent elite troops.

In Guadeloupe in 2009, the fight against the high cost of food distribution began. It began there and had a domino effect in Martinique, 15 years later, nothing has changed. Under the camp for independence you had youth that I was a part of that had a different approach in 2019, throughout the Kepone commission. When the state starts a commission, sometimes it is to protect some people, it is not to bring people to justice. We knew where it was going. We, a small group of radicals started disruptions against stores, against colonial statues, against plantations. We had a different approach saying; the problem is colonial, people have to realise it. Through reforms you reinforce the colonial power.

We have to face that colonial power, our approach was to make disruptions so people can see that we’re not scared of the police and the repression. I was highly injured myself, I was shot in the face by the police during protests in 2020. Not just me, Kéziah Nuissier who was almost lynched by French white police. We were prosecuted, many others went to jail. Some for two years.

The response, then and now from the French state is to send in the French elite police troops called the CRS. In 1959, following a fight between a white and black person in Martinique, following that there were protests that were repressed by the CRS. There are three people who have been assassinated by them, the response from the Martinquian deputies was “the CRS needs to go”

There is an association, who wanted to start negotiations with the food distribution enterprise companies, the response from the government was to send the CRS. That is what sparked violence, looting and insurrection in Martinique.

The interview has been abridged and edited for ease of reading. For the full conversation, listen to the original audio. soundcloud.com/user-92939733/martiniques-history-of-resistance

Simoun Magsalin – The Anarchy of the Peripheries: Preliminary Notes to a Study of Rebel Peripheries

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

 

In the internal peripheries of various States in the former Third World, State power cannot fully cohere and territorialize. Usually situated among mountainous formations, these internal peripheries have long defied civilizational imposition. James C. Scott described it in the Zomian highlands of mainland Southeast Asia. In the Philippines, peoples would routinely escape the Spanish colony by practicing *remontar* or escaping to the mountains. Their Indigenous descendants are known as remontados today. Across the Americas, enslaved peoples would also flee to safety of the jungles and mountains to form maroon communities, some of which reconstituted African polities and and some were the size of some small European countries. Across time and space, internal peripheries acted as *refugia* by which peoples could escape and defy State power and all the civilization that it entailed—corvée, taxes, slavery, colonialism, proletarianization, etc. This is the “anarchy of the peripheries.”

 

The anarchy of the peripheries has also historically been the refuge, bulwarks, and strongholds of guerrilla movements, some of which were Marxist and communist. These peripheries that are the refuge of guerrilla movements is what I would term as “rebel peripheries.” The relationship of the rebel peripheries and the anarchy of the peripheries is marked by what I call as a “heretical” thesis, of which has two components. The first is that many of these authoritarian guerrilla movements survive and even thrive *as a result of the condition* of the anarchy of the peripheries, of the failure of State power to fully cohere and territorialize in the internal peripheries. This is irony: that authoritarian guerrilla persist because of a relative condition of anarchy. The second component is that it is Marxists and other authoritarians, and not libertarians, that have been able to fully take advantage of the anarchy of the peripheries and develop rebel peripheries. This too is irony: the very peripheries where anarchy thrives, where State power is weakest, it is the authoritarians, and not the anarchists that are to be found. Why is this so?

 

From Infrapolitics to Rebel Peripheries

The anarchy of the peripheries is largely constituted on two components: geography and political power. These are highly interrelated. State power is normally best constituted under specific geographical features like plains, rivers, and valleys—places that are also easier for populations to settle. This is no coincidence. For whatever reason, State power has difficulty imposing its rule of law beyond easily-traversal geographies. A notable exception is the northern Andes mountains in Columbia and Ecuador where State power coheres stronger in the mountains where most of the population lives, but this is due to the fact that the more favorable climate of the Andes allows more people to settle there than in the coasts of those countries. This clear exception also reveals that State power better coheres and territorializes in areas of higher population density, which itself is also conditioned by geographies that are easier to settle.

 

State power also seems to better cohere in some countries more than others. In the former First World and Second World like in the historical revolutionary situations in Spain and Ukraine, State power was able to cohere and territorialize and supersede whatever anarchy could have existed due to the revolutionary situation. But it is in the former Third World where the anarchy of the peripheries were able to shield and allow the flourishing of Marxist guerrilla movements and other rebel peripheries.

 

Archaeologists have a formal term for the anarchy of the peripheries during the age of colonization: pericolonialism. Pericolonialism is the condition of peoples and territories in the peripheries of colonial projects. In the Philippines, pericolonial archaeology (through the work of Stephen Acabado) is revealing that the Ifugao and other Igorot peoples of the Cordilleras were not unaffected by colonialism but rather reacted to it and even restructured their societies to defend against colonialism.

 

During the colonial period of the Philippines, people would practice *remontar*, or returning to the mountain, to escape the colonizers. It is said by Frederic Henry Sawyer (an American colonial anthropologist) that the Pangasinense had a tendency to flee to the mountains to escape the colony, given the proximity of Pangasinan to the mountains of Benguet. James C. Scott described “infrapolitics” or invisible politics much like how infrared is invisible to the naked eye. For Scott, desertion was infrapolitical compared to a mutiny, which is obviously political. In this sense, *remontar*, and related concepts like marronage, was the infrapolitical equivalent to anti-colonial rebellions. Fleeing the colony was less risky that challenging colonial State power. Remontados and maroons alike would flee to the anarchy of the peripheries where they can live without the diktats of State power and the slavery that it entailed.

 

In the period of creole postcoloniality, or the transferring of control of State power from colonial suzerains to creole bourgeoisies, I argue that pericolonialism transforms into “peristatism,” or the condition of peoples and spaces in the peripheries of State power and territoriality. The anarchy of the peripheries in the contemporary age is marked by the inability of State power to cohere and territorialize in these peripheries. As we have seen throughout history, these anarchic peripheries become havens for *rebel peripheries* by which guerrilla movements set up shop. In this sense, these rebel peripheries are the visibly political form to the infrapolitical practice of *remontar* and marronage.

 

In the Philippines, there is a colloquial term for joining the communist insurgency led by the New People’s Army, the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). The term is “*mamundok*” and it is a literal translation of the Spanish “*remontar*,” both meaning to go up the mountain. This *mamundok*, however, is an explicit politicization of *remontar*. While Remontados wish to merely desert State power, those who *mamundok* explicitly seek to *challenge* State power. Under the theory of Maoism, the protracted people’s war aims to militarize the whole countryside and “surround the cities” and finally contest and conquer State power.

 

As mentioned previously, this contention for political power is heretical in the sense that it aims to build revolutionary State power precisely in the anarchy of the peripheries where State power is weakest. Rebel peripheries build power precisely in the long tradition of infrapolitical anarchy of the peripheries. It is in the peripheries where Marxist guerrilla forces converge and wage people’s wars, from the CPP, the Communist Party of Malaya, the Communist Party of Thailand, the Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path), the Naxalites in India, the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), and many others. Of these, it is only the PKK and the Zapatistas (EZLN) that are libertarian in content. Crucially, the libertarianism of the PKK is still in doubt by many, and the Zapatistas originally started out as Maoist before embracing a unique Indigenous libertarianism after dialogue and collaboration with the Maya of Chiapas.

 

So we are faced with the obvious fact that most rebel peripheries are led by authoritarians who invariably use assassinations, kangaroo courts, and violent purges to keep power in their rebel peripheries (much has been written on the matter, by myself and others). Anarchist armed struggle has tended to instead be conducted in revolutionary situations or in urban areas. A comparative analysis is necessary.

 

Historical and Contemporary Anarchist Armed Struggle

In concerted and generalized periods of anarchist armed struggle, the heretical thesis has generally held true. We can consider two cases in the Ukrainian and Spanish revolutions. (While we would like to consider a third in the Korean Shinmin prefecture, the structure of their armed struggle is not well documented.)

 

Neither Ukraine nor Spain had significant internal peripheries where State power was unable to cohere fully and territorialize. Ukraine is largely a vast open plain, quite ideal for the rapid mobilization of an armed central authority across it. Once, however, Ukraine was part of a vast periphery of empires where Cossack peoples largely retained their autonomy from empires and States through mobility, raids, and mercenary service. As the technologies of the State improved, State power cohered and territorialized in Ukraine, integrating the formerly autonomous cossacks into the Russian imperial system. By the time of the Ukrainian revolution, State power lost its coherence and deterritorialized in the country, allowing for a kind of anarchy. The Makhnovshchina was a “Republic on Tachanka”—always on the move. Like the cossacks before them, the Makhnovshchina used their mobility to their advantage to evade and assault State power. But the specific anarchy of the Ukrainian revolution was conditioned by the chaos of the revolutionary situation and the invasion of foreign powers, not by the inherent anarchy of the peripheries. The anarchy of the Makhnovshchina was not necessarily rooted in the specific geographic structure of Ukraine, but by the political situation and the creative mobilization by Nestor Makhno and his Black Army. Indeed, the “Republic on Tachanka” had no recognizable territorial bulwark—it was rather first and foremost a social movement backed by a guerrilla army. The Makhnovshchina did not present itself as what we now recognize as rebel peripheries today. Eventually, however, the Makhnovshchina was crushed and Bolshevik State power did cohere and territorialize in Ukraine.

 

In Spain, the situation was similar. State power had cohered and territorialized across the Iberian peninsula for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The collapse and deterritorialization of State power was, again, conditioned by revolution, not by geography. Where anarchists were able to carve out spaces of autonomy or wage armed struggle, it was because they have allied with the Republican State. However, when the political settlement between the Republicans and the anarchists no longer became tenable, the full force of State power was borne on the anarchists. Iberia did have internal peripheries throughout the mountainous and forested regions, the most major of which are the Pyrenees. There the Spanish *maquis* continued the fight against Fransisco Franco and fascism. Some of the *maquis* were anarchist like the Sabaté brothers Quico, Pepe and Manolo. But Francoist State power did eventually cohere completely within the Spanish internal peripheries, forcing *maquis* both anarchist and Stalinist to evacuate, desist, or die in the resistance. Indeed, the three Sabaté brothers all died by the hands of the fascists. Furthermore, the *maquis* guerrilla war in post-war Spain did not have recognizable liberated zones like with rebel peripheries.

 

In both Ukraine and Spain, as the State power of authoritarians matured, the anarchy of the revolutionary situation was superseded by to cohering and territorialization of State power. In Spain, which did briefly have some anarchic peripheries, the maturation of the Francoist dictatorship eventually superseded whatever anarchy the forests and the mountains provided. This is not the condition of how the anarchy of the peripheries presents itself today, which presents itself as a persistent peristatism where State power cannot cohere or territorialize completely.

 

However, similar to the rebel peripheries of today, anarchists in both the Spanish and Ukrainian revolutions had the peasantry as a major mass base. Beyond Iberia and Ukraine, classical anarchism in Italy also won the support of the peasantry. Much like the peasantry of the peripheries today, the desire for some level of independence from the market and State system through small-scale land ownership and tilling dovetails with anarchist politics. This is why, for example, that Marxists are wont to slander anarchism as “petty bourgeois” as in a sense anarchism did win mass bases among independent peasants (who could be classified as petty bourgeois).

 

After the period of classical anarchism, the sunset of which is marked by a world-historical demobilization of anarchism, there were (and are) still periods of post-classical anarchist armed struggle. We can consider three forms, the pro-organizational type of the Uruguayan Anarchist Federation (FAU), insurrectionary anarchism, and united front in Rojava.

 

The FAU’s armed wing of OPR-33 largely operated in the cities and mostly conducted targeted armed offensive meant to support direct action and political efforts. The FAU made a conscious decision to put political forces at the forefront to prevent the militarization of the political arm. Uniquely proletarian in character, the FAU was based on the urban working class of Uruguay. The FAU did not conduct a people’s war in the countryside or make use of peristatism or the anarchy of the peripheries. Rather, they remained proletarian and urban in character.

 

Attacks by insurrectionary anarchists are usually urban in character and do not seem to generalize armed struggle (not for lack of trying, however). These attacks are conducted across the contemporary world and rarely have some coherent identity like that of a guerrilla communist party. Some names can be described, such as the Mediterranean-based Informal Anarchist Federation (FAI) or the Conspiracy of Cells of Fire (SPF). Some theorists such as the late Alfredo Maria Bonanno have been identified with insurrectionary anarchism. Insurrectionary anarchism seems to keep a consistent urban character with their attacks. Similar to the FAU, we do not see insurrectionary anarchists make use of peristatism or the anarchy of the peripheries to their advantage. If they build mass bases among people in the periphery, it is not well known.

 

In the last case, we have seen is anarchists joining International Freedom Battalion in Rojava—the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (DAANES). Three groups are notable here, the Revolutionary Union for Internationalist Solidarity (RUIS), the International Revolutionary People’s Guerrilla Forces (IRPGF), and the Tekoşîna Anarşîst (Anarchist Struggle, TA). This kind of armed struggle was meant to support the existing military campaign in Syria against Daesh and later Türkiye and their Syrian proxies. The war in Syria is largely conventional in character rather than guerrilla. Rojava is not exactly a rebel periphery with the territory having relatively significant urban areas and having (for all intents and purposes) a conventional *de facto* government. While many an anarchist has celebrated the higher levels of autonomy and democracy in DAANES, it is still a relatively conventional rebel State apparatus, if a revolutionary one. This is not to dissuade support of Rojava, but just to show that it is not conventionally a rebel periphery. Nor is it clear if anarchists in North and East Syria build mass bases among peripheral peoples.

 

As we can see, post-classical anarchist armed struggle had not historically made use of the anarchy of the peripheries or made mass bases among peripheral peoples. Why is this so?

 

The Defeat of Anarchism

Largely, the reason why anarchists have not been able to make use of peristatism to develop anarchist rebel peripheries is because of the world-historical defeat of classical anarchism which saw the demobilization of anarchism worldwide and the conversion of many anarchist and proto-anarchist milieus to Marxism-Leninism, and later Maoism. Similarly, it was only with the collapse of the Soviet Union and capitalist restoration in most of the former Second World where we see libertarian alternatives like Abdullah Öcalan and the Zapatistas arise.

 

Where anarchism could have taken root among peripheral peoples, the galvanization of world Leninism and generous funding of communist parties in the wake of the victory of the Bolsheviks crowded out alternative revolutionary formations. The Soviet Union and other Second World states could invite revolutionaries to learn Marxism-Leninism and train for guerrilla war. Anarchist revolutionaries simply could not compete with such resources. Many converted to Marxism.

 

In the Philippines and China, this was indeed the case. The Soviet Union could provide tutelage and resources, so revolutionaries tended to adopt Marxism-Leninism as a guide for their own revolutionary praxis. Later on, it was Maoist China who supported the export of Mao Zedong Thought to Third World countries.

 

Where Soviet Marxism-Leninism was increasingly seen as decrepit and stagnant, a revitalization of revolutionary Marxism was done under the banner of Mao Zedong Thought. Revolutionaries across the Third World would challenge “official” communist parties for the development of new people’s wars and rebel peripheries. This was indeed the case in the Philippines where the Communist Party of the Philippines displaced the old party, the PKP-1930.

 

Anarchism’s place in all this was in the sidelines. Sure, there were localized revitalization in some places, most notably in the May–June 1968 events in France, but anarchism remained to be largely marginal movement internationally. It is only recently after world-historical decommunization in the collapse of the Soviet Union that anarchism returned with a vengeance. This inversely proportional relation between Marxism and anarchism is well known in anarchist emergence literature.

 

It is Right to Rebel

In terms of the anarchy of the periphery, Marxist-Leninist revolutionary movements built their party power on peripheral peoples, mostly peasants of varying kinds and/or Indigenous peoples. Peristatism here is not just a condition where State power is weak, but is also one of poverty. Peripheries are not as well integrated into the world-capitalist system as urban, suburban, and near-urban rural areas are. The condition of periphery also means that the welfare state is not as strong there as in more integrated territories. This localized lack of State power and poverty appeals to Marxist-Leninist revolutionary movements.

 

In the peripheries, the people there lack access to medicine, education, and law. Communist parties, such as that in the Philippines, have proven their capacity to provide where the State fails. The New People’s Army is not just a fighting force, but a mobile clinic, school, and court rolled up into one. Anarchists do not oppose communist parties because they do these things, however (although we may oppose the law part). After all, in both the classical and post-classical period, much of the social life of anarchists that did provide mutual aid and *ateneos* in health care and education were notably urban in character.

 

Indeed, the underground governments of Marxist-Leninist parties can and have been quite brutal at times, which is one of the reasons anarchist oppose them. In the Philippines, Peru, Nepal, and India, Maoists committed all kinds of atrocities on their own mass bases from brutal purges, retaliatory attacks, kangaroo courts, and even massacres. (An accounting of which group did what cannot be recounted here.) This is, of course, is not limited to Maoists. The Makhnovshchina conducted a pogrom against the Mennonites and the Spanish anarchists could have been overzealous in the murder of clergy and lay Catholics. The point, however, is not to declaim violence, but rather that violence ought have a specific character, that being against the State, proletarianization, work, and all. (An abolitionist argument on the character of violence can be read elsewhere like in my “Why Socialists Must be Abolitionists.”)

 

Much of the model of Marxist-Leninist rebel peripheries is due to Yan’an model of the Communist Party of China, that being to create a communist bulwark in a periphery far from enemy State power to construct an underground revolutionary government. From Yan’an, the Chinese communists were able to take the whole of China. This bulwark would then be the temporary capital of the communist insurgency until the Party can take State power in full.

 

However, anarchists declaim the building of such a government, whether in the peripheries or in a revolutionary situation. Rather, anarchists might take point from the Ukrainian revolution where the Makhnovshchina was able to temporarily eradicate State power and other rivals (nationalists, imperialists, Bolsheviks) to allow the proletariat and peasantry to build what they please. In this way, the Makhnovshchina allowed the flourishing, even for a brief time, of various soviets and communes where workers and peasants experimented in revolution. Similar happened in the Spanish revolution, albeit the anarchist additionally had a disastrous alliance with the Republicans.

 

Perhaps in the contemporary world, anarchists would point to the Zapatistas, who, starting from a Maoist position, actually did try to serve the people and learn from them and then found that the masses really did want to build something libertarian rather than yet another State—underground or otherwise. So that it is in Zapatista Chiapas that the political form favors bottom-up structures and probably the truest political democracy in the world. Basing themselves in a rebel periphery, the Zapatistas defend their autonomy from States with a combination of creative politics and armed force.

 

But despite the endurance of the Zapatista model, the general endurance of the rebel peripheries, and the resurgence of anarchism in the past decades, why is it that we have not yet seen an *anarchist* rebel periphery?

 

Towards an Anarchist Rebel Periphery?

For quite a number of reasons, contemporary anarchism is still very much urban-based with mass bases among workers, students, and other urbanites. But this is not destiny. Quite a number of communist parties, like that in the Philippines, started out as urban and even student movements that eventually established mass bases in the peripheries and started people’s wars. Furthermore, history is not destiny either. Just because anarchists have not made use of the anarchy of the peripheries does not mean that anarchist rebel peripheries cannot exist. But there are still quite a number of reasons why anarchists today are not founding rebel peripheries.

 

Most of the world is increasingly urban. This is a recurring trend in all countries and may be part of capitalist development. If more of the world’s population is in the urban, then so is the class struggle. A lot of what rebel peripheries actually do is to funnel militancy from the urban to the rural, as is the case in the Philippines. With the brain drain of radicals and militants, those in the urban class struggle are left with less boots on the ground.

 

In some countries like the Philippines, building rival projects in rebel peripheries will get us killed by guerrillas. It is not as if the communist party will allow some anarchists to go around establishing councils and communes that could potentially threaten their hegemony.

 

Despite the authoritarianism and the far-right on the rise, conditions are not yet forcing us to do purely underground work. We still have leeway to operate in cities and mostly legally. Unlike the brutal past dictatorships in Nepal, the Philippines, and Peru, we can still still operate mostly openly. While there is State repression, the character is as severe as it could be.

 

If conditions do worsen that forces our movements underground, then perhaps having an underground railroad towards a rebel periphery might be useful for us. Perhaps then, an insurrectionary strategy grounded in the anarchy of the peripheries would be viable.

 

Crucially, however, our current world is also one where State power continues to grow stronger. State power is increasingly interfering in many spheres of life. It is cohering and territorializing in the far corners of the world. This has been going on since antiquity as more and more of the world is being territorialized by States. It is increasingly easier to travel to peripheries, making them less peripheral. Perhaps the anarchy of the periphery is a dying breed.

 

In Myanmar, where liberal-democratic and socialist movements were driven underground and to rebel peripheries in open rebellion, anarchists are rather few and out organized by other groups like the armed liberal-democratic opposition, ethnic armies, and even a reforged Communist Party of Burma. Efforts to found a Black Army there have been smothered in the crib.

 

Most importantly perhaps, we can and should ask: What are we even building if we build guerrilla fronts and establish rebel peripheries? Ursula Le Guin wrote, “The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.” If all we have are means, is building a rebel periphery something that, as Errico Malatesta urges, allows us to walk towards anarchy always? And even if contemporary anarchism is largely urban in character, do not the people in the peripheries also deserve autonomy and armed self-defense? Would not moving to and organizing in the peristatal peripheries be great acts of anarchist solidarity? After all, there are still many places in the world where State power is weak and where the governments are brutal.

 

Ultimately, this essay is but preliminary work to understanding the question of the anarchy of the peripheries and what rebellions could lurk there. I do not have answers to the questions I ask. We cannot discount the possibility that anarchists can and will build an anarchist rebel periphery.

 

Simoun Magsalin is a reader of books about social ecology, abolition, socialism, anarchism and communism. He is a dreamer for a better world, a digital librarian, and archivist for radical sites.

Leonardo Torres Llerena – Toward an Indo-American Revolution: José Carlos Mariátegui’s Relevance for Decolonial Insurgencies

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

Part of Muntjac Issue 2: Insurgency & Counter Insurgency

Introduction

José Carlos Mariátegui (1894–1930) was a Peruvian Marxist thinker, journalist, and political activist whose ideas reverberate throughout Latin America’s leftist movements even today. Despite his relatively brief life, Mariátegui profoundly influenced how we understand class struggle, anti-colonialism, and especially the role of Indigenous communities in shaping revolutionary politics. His seminal work, Seven Interpretive Essays on Peruvian Reality (1928), stands as a watershed text in Latin American Marxist and decolonial thought, bridging Western socialist theory with the specificities of the Andean and broader Latin American context.

Through this essay, I (a Peruvian migrant living in the UK) will examine how his emphasis on the Indigenous Question, communal forms of organisation, and the lived realities of colonised populations provides a framework for analysing and critiquing both revolutionary movements and state repression. Weaving in a decolonial lens, we will situate Mariátegui within the broader trajectory of Latin American anti-colonial struggles, from Indigenous resistance to later guerrilla movements, showing why his thought remains pivotal for non-white and anti-colonial activists, particularly within anarchist and other radical circles.

If insurgency is understood as a challenge to entrenched structures of domination and counterinsurgency as the array of techniques used by states and elites to maintain the status quo, Mariátegui’s call for an “Indo-American socialism” offers both a conceptual and strategic blueprint. By placing Indigenous communal forms at the centre, Mariátegui effectively reorients socialism—traditionally perceived as a European product—to the historically colonised geographies of Latin America.

Part I: Historical Context and Intellectual Trajectory

Mariátegui’s Early Life and Influences

José Carlos Mariátegui was born in Moquegua, Peru, in 1894. Raised in relative poverty and suffering health issues that plagued him throughout his life, Mariátegui’s early experiences gave him direct insight into the harsh realities faced by Peru’s marginalized communities. At a young age, he became a journalist, quickly turning his vocation into a platform for radical critique.

Peru was grappling with the social and political aftershocks of the War of the Pacific (1879–1884), which had left the country economically and morally destitute. The oligarchic republic that emerged in the early 20th century was dominated by landed elites benefiting from resource extraction and the exploitation of Indigenous labour. The Indigenous population (the majority of the country) was relegated to near-feudal conditions in haciendas, deprived of fundamental rights, and disparaged by official national narratives. This deeply stratified society became Mariátegui’s chief area of investigation.

Mariátegui left Peru in 1919, journeying to Europe (particularly France and Italy) where the Western avant-garde, Italian Futurism, and nascent communist movements influenced him. Significantly, he was exposed to Gramscian ideas in Italy, learning about the importance of cultural hegemony and the necessity of engaging popular culture in revolutionary struggle. However, Mariátegui was no mere importer of European thought: upon returning to Peru, he critically adapted Marxism to the specific realities of Andean society, including its Indigenous communal traditions.

Encounters with Marxism and Latin American Realities

Mariátegui rejected a Eurocentric application of Marxism that failed to account for the material and cultural specificities of Peruvian and Latin American contexts. Far from advocating a sterile, dogmatic version of historical materialism, he saw Marxism as a living method capable of renewing itself when confronted with different social formations. He insisted that socialism in Peru could not merely copy European or Soviet models but had to engage intimately with Indigenous peasant realities and the legacy of colonisation.

Simultaneously, Mariátegui drew on the intellectual ferment spurred by the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920), our region’s first major socialist-inspired revolution of the 20th century, and the Bolshevik Revolution (1917) in Russia. Although his exposure to the Mexican Revolution was indirect, its impact on Latin American socialists at the time—through the idea of agrarian reform and peasant-led insurgencies—deeply influenced how revolutionaries throughout the region approached class struggle. Mariátegui’s critical contribution was to bridge these developments with a renewed focus on Indigenous communal forms, or what he called the ayllu—the basic unit of traditional Andean society.

Decolonial Praxis in the Early 20th Century

Decolonial thought in Latin America can trace an important lineage to thinkers like Mariátegui, who recognised that colonisation was not a mere historical event but a structure that continued to shape race, class, and power relations. His perspective diverged from many Eurocentric Marxists by emphasising that the capitalist exploitation of Peru’s Indigenous population was intertwined with centuries of colonial subjugation. Hence, the material struggle against capitalism and the cultural-epistemic struggle against colonial oppression could not be separated.

These insights are crucial to understanding how Mariátegui’s writings speak to insurgencies—uprisings aimed at overturning systemic injustice—and the counterinsurgencies that state deploy to defend their power. Where state-centric narratives in Latin America often framed Indigenous mobilisations as backward or dangerous, Mariátegui saw these communal struggles as seeds for a new socialist society anchored in local forms of reciprocity and mutual aid.

Part II: Mariátegui’s Core Contributions to Revolutionary Theory

  1. The Indigenous Question and Decolonial Socialism

Mariátegui’s most celebrated contribution is arguably his articulation of the “Indigenous question” as central to revolutionary politics in the Andes. In Seven Interpretive Essays on Peruvian Reality, he devoted extensive analysis to how race, land dispossession, and colonial continuities shaped Peru’s socio-economic landscape. He called for a “socialist solution to the Indigenous question,” meaning a transformation that recuperated communal landholding traditions (the ayllu) as part of a broader socialist project.

*   Reclaiming Communal Traditions: Rather than treating Indigenous communalism as a relic of a premodern past, Mariátegui saw it as a vibrant tradition that could inform specifically Peruvian socialism. He rejected paternalistic and assimilationist approaches that aimed to “civilise” Indigenous peoples through Western capitalist paradigms. Instead, he posited that these communities already embodied forms of collective labour that were ethically and structurally akin to socialist principles.

*   Indigenismo vs. Revolutionary Praxis: While the prevailing intellectual trend of his time, indigenismo, sought to recognise Indigenous peoples within the national narrative, Mariátegui critiqued it for seldom moving beyond reformist advocacy or folkloric celebration. For him, the Indigenous question was not only a cultural or racial issue but a revolutionary one, inseparable from economic emancipation and a break with neo-colonial power structures.

*   Decolonial Marxism: Mariátegui anticipated many subsequent critiques of Marxism’s Eurocentric blind spots. By situating the Indigenous peasantry at the heart of a revolutionary alliance, he called for an approach that overcame the typical urban bias of Marxist movements. While he acknowledged the importance of proletarian organising in factories and mines, Mariátegui never lost sight of the rural, communal bedrock upon which Peru’s social fabric was built.

  1. Critique of Oligarchy and Colonial Legacies

Mariátegui’s analysis of Peru’s oligarchy underscores a pattern of racial capitalism rooted in the colonial era. He illustrated how the white or mestizo ruling class enriched itself by exploiting Indigenous labour, perpetuating racial hierarchies established by Spanish colonial administrators. This system was maintained through violence—both the structural violence embedded in unjust land tenure and the more explicit violence of state-led repression.

*   Collusion Between the State and Landed Elites: Mariátegui examined the Peruvian state’s complicity in protecting the privileges of landowners. Indigenous uprisings and peasant movements were invariably crushed under the argument of “maintaining order.” Here, we find the seeds of Latin America’s counterinsurgency doctrines, as the state historically de-legitimized Indigenous revolts by branding them criminal or subversive.

*   A Call for Land Reform and Peasant Power: Land reform, for Mariátegui, was not merely about redistributing territory but about decolonising social relations. He envisaged a scenario where the Indigenous majority, organised collectively, would reclaim the land not as individual property but as communal spaces for production and social life. This stance challenged the individualist model of liberal land distribution, aligning more closely with anarchist and decolonial philosophies that emphasise collective stewardship.

  1. The Role of Culture and Myth in Revolution

A less heralded but equally important component of Mariátegui’s thought is his discussion of myth. He posited that revolutions are driven not just by cold economic calculations but by mythic, imaginative forces—hope, solidarity, sacrifice, and communal identity. By revitalising Indigenous and popular cultural traditions, revolutionaries in Latin America could tap into a deep reservoir of collective energies.

This cultural dimension resonates with anarchist traditions that value decentralised networks, communal ethics, and direct action anchored in local cultural contexts. Mariátegui diverged from orthodox Marxists who prioritised the industrial proletariat and rationalist lines of class analysis, stressing instead that forging a new world required creativity, spirituality, and the forging of a new “historical bloc” that included peasants, workers, and the broader masses.

Part III: Insurgency and Counterinsurgency in Latin America

  1. Defining Insurgency & Counterinsurgency

Insurgency, in the Latin American context, typically entails armed or militant opposition against established political and economic structures. From the independence struggles of the 19th century to the rural-based guerrilla movements of the 20th century—such as Cuba’s 26th of July Movement, the FARC in Colombia, or the Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) in Peru—insurgency has often been a response to intense marginalisation, poverty, and landlessness.

Counterinsurgency, conversely, includes the tactics, strategies, and ideologies states employ to destroy or neutralise insurgent movements. In Latin America, counterinsurgency often relies on a blend of military repression, propaganda, and sometimes social reform measures meant to reduce the insurgents’ support base. Historically, these approaches have been heavily influenced by U.S. military doctrines (e.g., the School of the Americas) and are designed to preserve the status quo of racial capitalism and neo-colonial control.

  1. The Peruvian Experience: Shining Path and Beyond

Though Mariátegui did not live to see the rise of Peru’s Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso) in the late 20th century, his ideas nonetheless cast a long shadow. The Shining Path emerged in the 1970s under the leadership of Abimael Guzmán, blending a Maoist interpretation of Marxism with a violent, doctrinaire strategy aimed at “protracted people’s war.” While the Shining Path did invoke the Indigenous question in rhetorical terms, it largely centralised authority and carried out brutal campaigns that often victimised the very communities it claimed to liberate.

From a Mariáteguian perspective, one might argue that the Shining Path represented a deviation from the decolonial and communal aspects of Indigenous struggle. Although Shining Path emphasised peasant mobilisation, its rigid vanguardism and violent tactics alienated large portions of the rural Indigenous population. The Peruvian state’s counterinsurgency response was equally brutal, resulting in tens of thousands of deaths, widespread human rights violations, and atrocities primarily inflicted upon Indigenous communities in the highlands and the Amazon.

Mariátegui’s insistence on a socialism that grew out of Indigenous communal practices—rather than being imposed from above—stands in sharp contrast to the Maoist-inspired centralism of the Shining Path. Similarly, an anarchist perspective critical of hierarchical party structures and authoritarian ideologies might find Mariátegui’s communal emphasis more resonant than the top-down militarism that characterised much of the Shining Path’s insurgency.

  1. Counterinsurgency as Neo-colonial Continuity

Counterinsurgency in Peru (and elsewhere in Latin America) often replicated the racial logic of colonial and neo-colonial regimes. In Peru, the worst atrocities against suspected insurgents and entire communities—especially in the Andean regions—mirrored centuries of colonial violence against Indigenous peoples. Under the guise of defeating “terrorism,” the Peruvian military and associated paramilitaries committed acts that reaffirmed the low value assigned to Indigenous lives in a society still marked by colonial hierarchies.

From Mariátegui’s vantage point, such state violence defends the oligarchic and neocolonial order. The cyclical nature of insurgency and counterinsurgency in Latin America is inextricably linked to incomplete decolonisation; so long as the agrarian question, racial hierarchies, and economic exploitation remain unaddressed, militant rebellions will continue to spring forth from subaltern communities.

Part IV: Decolonization and the Legacy of Mariátegui

  1. Connecting Mariátegui to Decolonial Theory

Mariátegui’s thought prefigures many arguments of contemporary decolonial theorists such as Aníbal Quijano, María Lugones, and Walter Mignolo, who emphasise how the coloniality of power structures race, gender, labour, and knowledge. While Mariátegui wrote decades before “coloniality” became an academic term, his insistence that capitalism in Latin America cannot be properly understood without its colonial heritage places him firmly in this tradition.

*   Coloniality and Racial Capitalism: For Mariátegui, and later decolonial thinkers, capitalism’s global expansion was made possible through the racial hierarchies forged under colonialism. In Peru, this manifested in the oppression of Indigenous peoples and the monopolisation of land by white and mestizo elites. Only by dismantling these racialised class structures can true emancipation emerge.

*   Epistemic Decolonization: Mariátegui was keenly aware that colonisation extended beyond physical domination into the realm of culture and knowledge. This awareness undergirds his project of fusing Marxism with Andean communal logic, representing a deliberate effort to create a distinctly “Peruvian socialism.” He thus challenges the standard linear narratives of modernity by placing Indigenous epistemologies at the centre of societal transformation.

*   Beyond Extractivism: Although he lived in an era before the environmental crisis reached its current, catastrophic proportions, Mariátegui’s respect for communal land practices implied a more sustainable and collective relationship with nature. In contrast to the extractivist paradigms fuelling capital accumulation across the Global South, Mariátegui’s approach reclaims local stewardship. This dimension has become increasingly urgent in contemporary decolonial critiques that link environmental devastation to ongoing colonial plunder.

  1. The Relevance for Contemporary Movements

Contemporary Latin American movements—ranging from Indigenous-led uprisings in Ecuador, Bolivia, and Chile, to Afro-descendant communities resisting land dispossession in Colombia, Brazil, and beyond—invoke principles that Mariátegui championed nearly a century ago. These include communal organisation, reclamation of land and resources, and the integration of cultural revitalisation with socio-economic demands.

*   Anarchist Resonances: While Mariátegui was explicitly Marxist, his valorisation of communal forms and direct action resonates with anti-authoritarian principles found in anarchist traditions. He opposed both top-down state socialism and liberal market-centric approaches, emphasising the autonomy and leadership of Indigenous communities in shaping their own destiny.

*   Insurgency in a Post-9/11 World: In the post-9/11 era, states worldwide have expanded the rhetoric and apparatuses of counterterrorism, which often conflate insurgent movements with terrorism. This dynamic continues to criminalise Indigenous and peasant mobilisations, labelling them as security threats rather than legitimate social struggles. Mariátegui’s perspective would assert that these movements are not mere criminal phenomena but expressions of long-simmering discontent with colonial and capitalist oppression.

*   Gender and Intersectionality: Although Mariátegui did not extensively analyse gender as a distinct axis of oppression, his decolonial stance implicitly challenges patriarchal structures embedded within colonial societies. Modern-day decolonial feminists, who highlight the intersection of race, gender, and colonial oppression, can find a starting point in Mariátegui’s insistence on combining Marxist analysis with local cultural realities. In particular, Indigenous women often spearhead community-based insurgencies, linking land defence, cultural revival, and gender equality in ways that extend Mariátegui’s foundational insights.

Part V: Decolonial Reflections on Insurgency & Counterinsurgency

  1. The Moral and Ethical Dimensions of Resistance

Mariátegui understood that any insurgency—even if militarised—must rest on moral legitimacy derived from the communities it claims to represent. Insurgencies rooted in popular aspirations for land, dignity, and cultural renewal can effectively mobilise collective myths and identities, becoming powerful vehicles for socio-political transformation. However, if an insurgency loses this moral core—by adopting overly authoritarian or violent tactics—it risks alienating the same communities whose support it relies upon.

From a decolonial anarchist perspective, the reliance on hierarchical command structures or cults of personality can distort an insurgent movement’s original emancipatory aims. Mariátegui’s approach implies that “people’s war” should be led by the people themselves, anchored in communal assemblies and direct democratic practices. If the struggle ceases to be communal, it risks reproducing the same forms of domination it ostensibly opposes.

  1. Counterinsurgency as Epistemic Violence

States do not merely deploy military might to crush insurgencies; they also wield epistemic violence, controlling the narratives that define who a terrorist, who is a criminal, and who is a legitimate political actor. Latin American ruling classes often frame Indigenous demands as archaic, irrational, or subversive to national “unity,” thereby delegitimising communal autonomy. Decolonial critiques highlight that such epistemic violence is a continuation of colonial attempts to delegitimise Indigenous worldviews.

Mariátegui’s insistence on the legitimacy of Indigenous communal knowledge counters this hegemonic narrative. By positing that Indigenous traditions are not obstacles to modernity but viable alternatives to capitalist exploitation, Mariátegui challenges the standard justifications for counterinsurgency. His stance forces us to question how official discourses brand movements as “violent” or “illegitimate,” often ignoring the structural violence that prompted resistance in the first place.

  1. Lessons for Present and Future Movements

*   Building Alliances: One of Mariátegui’s core insights—building alliances between urban workers and rural Indigenous communities—remains crucial. While class struggle remains at the heart of Latin American insurgencies, an awareness of racial and colonial oppressions is vital to forging unity. Modern movements could expand on Mariátegui’s blueprint by including Afro-descendant, LGBTQ+, and women’s collectives, recognising that multiple forms of oppression intersect and fuel insurgent discontent.

*   Centring Indigenous Authority: Any revolutionary strategy in the Andes (or other Indigenous-majority regions of Latin America) that fails to recognise the autonomy and leadership of Indigenous communities is doomed to replicate colonial patterns. Mariátegui’s emphasis on communal democracy offers a guiding principle for anarchists and other anti-authoritarians seeking to support local struggles without imposing external agendas.

*   Resisting Militarisation: While armed struggle has been a historical recourse against extreme exploitation, Mariátegui’s perspective encourages caution against militarisation’s pitfalls. Movements that embrace rigid hierarchies or vanguardist doctrines may replicate forms of patriarchy and authoritarianism, undermining the broader goal of decolonial liberation. Anarchists and non-white communities often experience the brunt of state repression; hence, a careful strategic calculus is needed when deciding whether to adopt armed methods or focus on grassroots organising, dual power structures, and other forms of direct action.

*   Revolutionary Culture and Education: Mariátegui gave considerable weight to culture, art, and myth. These elements cannot be dismissed as superfluous; instead, they are part of building a collective identity that can sustain resistance over the long term. Education—especially popular education—becomes a site of struggle, challenging colonial narratives and fostering a new generation committed to communal, anti-capitalist ethics.

Part VI: Critical Engagements and Contemporary Resonances

  1. Anarchist Critiques of Mariátegui

From an anarchist point of view, Mariátegui can be critiqued on two main grounds:

  1. His Commitment to the Party Form: Mariátegui did attempt to form a socialist party in Peru, the Peruvian Socialist Party (which later became the Peruvian Communist Party). This orientation implies a degree of centralisation that may clash with anarchist opposition to political parties. However, Mariátegui’s support for a party did not necessarily translate into authoritarian or rigid Leninism. His writings suggest a more flexible, localised approach to political organisation.
  2. Underdeveloped Analysis of Patriarchy: Like many male revolutionaries of his time, Mariátegui did not fully articulate how patriarchal oppression is intertwined with class and colonial domination. Anarchist feminists, particularly women of colour, might argue that his vision remains incomplete without a robust gender analysis. Nevertheless, his emphasis on the communal and the critique of colonial patriarchy provides an entry point for expanding his ideas in more explicitly feminist directions.
  3. Beyond the Peruvian Context: Latin American Solidarity

Mariátegui’s critiques of land concentration, oligarchic power, and neo-colonial intervention echo throughout Latin America, where Indigenous and Afro-descendant communities continue to face violent dispossession. From the Mapuche struggle in southern Chile to the Garifuna communities in Honduras defending their ancestral territories, the same logic of colonial capitalist expansion remains entrenched.

In a region marked by repeated coups, dictatorships, and waves of neoliberal restructuring, Mariátegui’s clarion call for a socialism that arises from local realities remains a touchstone. The Bolivian experience under Evo Morales, for instance, attempted to integrate Indigenous leadership into state structures, revealing both the potential and the contradictions of institutionalising Indigenous-led governance within a capitalist framework. While the Morales government advanced certain decolonial policies, it also succumbed to extractivist pressures that alienated Indigenous and environmental movements.

  1. Paths Toward Decolonial Futures

If we read Mariátegui not as a rigid dogma but as a living methodology open to adaptation, his work provides valuable insights into how communities might navigate the complexities of 21st-century struggles. Global crises—climate change, pandemics, entrenched inequality—underscore the urgency of articulating alternatives to capitalist modernity.

*   Horizontalism and Communal Economies: In times of crisis, local assemblies and mutual-aid networks often spring up to fill the gaps left by neoliberal states. Mariátegui’s championing of communal labour resonates with these efforts, suggesting that cooperative and horizontal economic structures have deep historical roots in Latin America’s Indigenous communities. This can bolster anarchist arguments for self-management and localised autonomy.

*   Spiritual and Cultural Revivals: The revival of ancestral ceremonies, languages, and spiritual practices continues to fortify communal identities in regions such as the Andes, Mesoamerica, and the Amazon. Mariátegui would likely see these cultural revivals as vital components of a broader insurgent identity, one that counters the assimilationist imperatives of both colonial and capitalist modernity.

*   Transnational Solidarity: Given that colonialism was always a global phenomenon, decolonial insurgencies must likewise be international in scope. Migrant communities, diaspora networks, and global Indigenous alliances have begun to connect struggles across continents. Mariátegui’s emphasis on forging new myths of solidarity could be extended to create transnational bonds that defy the borders erected by colonial and neo-colonial regimes.

Conclusion

José Carlos Mariátegui’s legacy stands as a crucial bridge between Latin America’s Indigenous and peasant histories of resistance and the broader socialist and anarchist imaginaries that seek to overturn capitalist modernity. In addressing insurgency and counterinsurgency from a decolonial standpoint, Mariátegui offers nuanced insights rather than a universalising Marxism imported wholesale from Europe. He champions a localised, culturally embedded approach that places Indigenous community forms at its core.

He reminds us that insurgencies must be both materially grounded and spiritually fuelled—myth and culture are as potent as class analysis in mobilising a people for radical change. Counterinsurgency, conversely, is not just the physical repression of rebellion but also the epistemic violence that delegitimises subaltern worldviews and fortifies a colonial-liberal consensus. This understanding remains painfully relevant in contemporary Latin America, where Indigenous and Afro-descendant movements continue to confront the militarised might of neo-colonial states and global capital.

For today’s global majority anarchists, Mariátegui’s writings resonate with a shared recognition that domination operates on multiple axes. The struggle is not confined to class exploitation alone but extends to cultural, racial, and gendered forms of oppression that originate in colonialism. His radical call to centre Indigenous communal structures challenges the “one-size-fits-all” models of revolution that have so often failed to emancipate the most exploited and marginalised.

Yet Mariátegui’s legacy is no panacea. His own Marxist commitments, potential blind spots regarding gender, and the historical distance between his era and our own require critical engagement. Still, his central questions remain urgent: How can colonised people reimagine socialism so that it reflects their histories, cosmovisions, and communal practices? How might insurgent movements avoid reproducing the same logic of domination that they initially set out to destroy?

In grappling with these questions, Mariátegui’s work encourages us to seek alliances beyond the confines of classical Marxism, incorporating feminist, anti-racist, and anarchist critiques that further decolonise our political frameworks. In the face of ever-evolving counterinsurgency tactics, from media disinformation to militarised police, the lesson is clear: true liberation requires more than just replacing who sits in the halls of power. It demands a radical redefinition of social relations, an unearthing of colonised knowledge, and a re-centring of communal bonds that have sustained subaltern communities through centuries of exploitation and oppression.

By embracing Mariátegui’s “Indo-American socialism” as a living tradition to be reworked and expanded, contemporary movements can draw on his hope, creativity, and respect for the Indigenous communal spirit. In so doing, they carry forward a vision of insurgency that is rooted in solidarity rather than coercion and a practice of counter-hegemony that reclaims epistemic and cultural spaces from centuries of colonial assault. The path to decolonial futures, as Mariátegui noted, is not given—it must be made in the crucible of struggle, collectively shaped by the people who live its realities day after day.

In sum, José Carlos Mariátegui’s relevance for discussing insurgency and counterinsurgency in Latin America lies in the clarity with which he anticipated the intersection of colonialism, capitalism, and racial oppression. His thought enriches anarchist critiques of state power by reminding us that the root causes of rebellion are deeply historic, anchored in centuries of communal forms that refuse to vanish. Whether on the frontlines of a land defence struggle in Latin America or in the diaspora (over 43 million living out of our region), the Mariáteguian tradition endures as a testament to the power of local knowledge, cultural reclamation, and revolutionary myth. It remains the task of those who believe in a decolonised world to keep this tradition alive, shaping insurgencies that can genuinely dismantle colonial and capitalist power—and to resist the counterinsurgencies that would contain or obliterate them.

 

Leonardo Torres Llerena is a Quechua Peruvian migrant living in the UK.

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"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."

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