This peice was featured in Muntjac Magazine Issue 1
For the first time in a long time, I opened my organizing e-mail. I expected an invitation to a membership orientation for another organization, however, I received an unexpected message informing me about the shutdown of the Houston Chapter of the Socialist Rifle Association (“SRA”). A mix of emotions swept over me, but i felt some sort of sorrow. It wasn’t wholly unexpected, the chapter had been bleeding in terms of activity for over a year, and for months now, less than a handful of people attended the weekly meetings. The Chapter Central Committee had put forth a “death date” that already passed months ago, and I suspected the only reason why it came now was that everyone remotely involved in organizing in the Houston SRA finally decided to pull the trigger through a haze of burn out.
It might be a faux pas as an anarchist, specifically one that disavows left unity and is somewhat of a sectarian, to mourn the passing of a chapter of the Socialist Rifle Association. However, it was precisely because of my experience in the Houston Socialist Rifle Association that shaped me into becoming the anarchist I am today. I first hand experienced the failings of left unity, and the drawbacks of a bureaucratic socialist organization through the Houston SRA. Beyond that, I had a long history with the Socialist Rifle Association in general.
As a brown person in America, I always knew that my existence was under threat. Especially as someone who was born after 9/11, I was intimately familiar that because of my brownness, I was seen as a “terrorist”. I was one of the few South Asian students in my school, and I frequently faced verbal abuse and marginalization because I vaguely looked “middle eastern”. In fact, a common “joke” in my middle school was that I was “most likely to become a terrorist”, and this perception was not helped by my inept social skills which was significantly exacerbated by my Autism and ADHD.
This fear continued to grow when Donald Trump got elected on a platform of xenophobia. The mask fully slipped off, and it was clear that to some, in order to “Make America Great Again”, it meant “Make America White Again”. I was 14 years old at the time, and incredibly disillusioned at the time, I decided that liberalism was no longer viable politics for me. A system that fundamentally allowed open white supremacy in mainstream politics despite decades of so-called “progress” was not a system I could be invested in. I turned towards left-wing politics. I searched on the internet for spaces that embodied this new world view of mine, and I came across a few subreddits (I know, I was a redditor.), including the Socialist Rifle Association. I specifically re-call thinking to myself, “Well, if there’s a conservative organization called the ‘National Rifle Association’, there ought to be a Socialist Rifle Association.” To my surprise and excitement, I found the Socialist Rifle Association.
I followed the subreddit since then, but it was not the catalyst of my political development. That came from other conversations with likeminded people on other areas of the internet, but I still held the desire to learn self-defense from a left wing perspective. I saw posts praising community defense organizations like “Redneck Revolt”, and the thought of leftists actually fighting back against an emboldened and militarized right appealed to me immensely. I joined a Socialist Rifle Association Discord and mostly lurked there. I gleaned some perspectives on firearms and community defense from a leftist perspective, and I was happy to be in a space where self-defense against white supremacy was especially advocated.
I joined the actual Socialist Rifle Association a few years later, as soon as I turned 18. In the aftermath of the George Floyd Uprising, it felt important to be part of a space that actively taught marginalized people to defend themselves from oppression. It was almost the biggest space and most accessible space for that information. After a brief discord video interview, I joined the Houston Chapter of the Socialist Rifle Association.
Life got in the way, especially as I was starting college. I never became active until a particularly traumatic breakup, and I decided the best use of my free time was to be spent organizing. I took stock of all the leftist organizations I joined at the time, and I decided to throw myself into the Houston Chapter of the SRA.
A core memory of mine was driving nearly an hour to a gun range for a range day with some of my high school friends who were also like minded. We were some sort of affinity group and we were especially radicalized. We were all very excited, but also very scared. We were black and brown teenagers, and the day before we all went to Academy to get some ammo for the expropriated .38 Special Revolver that a friend took from his far right god father.
We were quite late to the range day, and no one was there to introduce themselves to us. The range day organizers left us to our own devices, a bunch of young black and brown teenagers, with a .38 special in a plastic bag to figure out membership. By the time we got to the range, almost everyone left. But one of the range day organizers let us shoot the last of his 9mm out of his CZ Pistol. It was my first time shooting. The gravity of the situation set in as I loaded the magazine, my hands trembling and my palms were especially clammy as I wrapped my hand around the grip. The comrade who owned the pistol casually showed me how to properly hold it, and how to properly stand. My finger pulled the metallic trigger, and a ferocious bang escaped, and I flinched greatly due to the loud sound.
There was something to be said about political power flowing out of the barrel of a gun. As the slide reset and the casing fell on the wooden range bench, I felt power coursing through my veins. I fashioned myself as a “serious revolutionary” at the time, and to me, firing that CZ was the first step to living out my beliefs. In between January 6th, the George Floyd Uprising, the Pandemic, and other developments, me and my friends felt like we were preparing to fight on the barricades. After I shot the CZ my friends took turns, flinching like I had. We also loaded the .38 special and one by one, shot the revolver. A successful range day by our metrics.
After that range day, I started regularly attending the chapter meetings. Desparate to throw myself into work, I started off as a notetaker. I apparently impressed the Chapter Central Committee with my usage of the basic Google Docs minutes sheet template, and I got ingrained into the culture of the local chapter.
I also helped set up their mutual aid distribution project. It was primarily going out to encampments and handing out supplies. We were rather inexperienced so we ended up having to carry large boxes while hopping fences, over gates, and handing out water and other supplies. We even handed out canned goods too, which reflecting back on, was well-intentioned but rather silly.
I interviewed people for the membership welfare committee, an internal body within the organization responsible for mediating disputes and ensuring that instances of racism, transphobia, and sexism didn’t occur. Despite this, there were a few occassions were such instances happened, which led to a few blowups within the org. An organization that primarily organized around firearm training unfortunately attracts leftists who never learned to shed their machismo. I remember a few confrontations in the organization over this. This experience taught me to look out for such tendencies in organizing spaces.
The stark differences in ideology within the Houston Chapter stood out as well. Everyone from anarchists, social democrats, to hardcore stalinists existed within the chapter and it was the source of a lot of contention in the organization. People often debated both in the voice chat and in the channels, and it caused further strife. Fully committed to left unity, I never participated in these discussions despite calling myself an anarchist, and I tried to be amicable with all sides.
After this, I was voted in as part of the Chapter Central Committee as Secretary. I helped organize their biweekly meetings, and started hosting range days. Despite being a full time college student, I committed to hosting biweekly range days, which helped hone my marksmanship, and I’m especially infinitely grateful for the comrades in the organization who showed me how to shoot, how to clean my guns, and overall be competent in the usage of firearms.
On a similar note, my membership in the Houston SRA helped create many long term relationships. While unfortunately, I have either lost contact, or fell out with some people, I’ve created a few long lasting relationships that exist to this day. Without the Houston SRA, I don’t think I would have been as a prolific organizer that I am today.
On a bigger note, it can be argued that the Houston SRA shares a big responsibility in the formation of SCAO. I, and a few of the members took over the Houston SRA’s unhoused distribution program, and formed Houseless Distro, creating SCAO. The lessons I learned from SRA have definitely transferred over to SCAO. To some extent, SCAO does owe part of its birth to the Houston SRA.
While I spend a lot of this eulogy talking about core memories and positive aspects of the Houston SRA, I think it’s important to note its failings. The constant infighting that happened in the Houston SRA was a product of the SRA’s inherent big tent organizational style. While other organizations such as DSA still continue to move forward in spite of its big tent model, I think that the SRA, through the nature of being an organization that organizes around firearms and self-defense, attracts dogmatic people. Furthermore, there were constant issues of machismo, and the usual instances of sexual assault and abuse, that were particularly more dangerous in the context of a firearms based organization.
The Houston SRA started dying shortly after some of its most committed members decided that the SRA was too bureaucratic, or not ideological enough for their goals. This resulted in several splits that the chapter never recovered from. While there were a few mutual aid events, or socials, or even range days, they started becoming few and far between. Personally, my observation of the conflict within the Houston SRA helped me move past big-tent politics. I also was frustrated by the constant scandals coming out of various chapters, and I decided to focus my efforts on SCAO instead.
I know a few comrades that decided to stay and try to weather the storm. Their commitment to the organization even years after peak activity in the chapter is admirable. I am especially sympathetic because they put so much time and effort to keep the chapter going. However, I think in some ways, maybe firearms advocacy on the left has evolved since then. Maybe the Socialist Rifle Association model of organizing isn’t as viable or popular as it used to be.
An unfortunate by-product of the SRA, not just the organization but its culture cultivated of a sort of left wing gun culture that in some ways, mirrors the right. Fetishization of weapons as a commodity rather than a tool, worshipping the aesthetics of COMBLOC nations, and the idea that community defense only extends to the individual act of buying a gun are issues that I saw repeatedly in not just the Houston Chapter of the SRA, or even the Socialist Rifle Association, but across left wing spaces that advocated for armed self defense.
Furthermore, organizing in Houston is perilous. “Houston” as a region extends more than 50 miles, and having a consistent organization that has reoccuring activities is a challenge. Organizations and local formations come and go, their days are like grass and they bloom like the flowers of the field. I think it might be a bit naive to think that the Houston Chapter would go on for especially a long time.
However, I echo the sentiment in the message sent out to all members of the Houston Chapter of the Socialist Rifle Association. The closure of the chapter is not a loss. It has lead to the formation of multiple local organizations, and it has taught many marginalized people how to shoot, and how to defend themselves. That is a feat that is worth noting regardless. While my heart aches at the closing of this chapter, it serves a lesson that organizations aren’t permanent, and that closure does not mean defeat. We can learn from the failures of the Houston Chapter of Socialist Rifle Association, and come up with questions on how we can do better by ourselves and marginalized people.
Dare to Struggle, Dare to Win.
All Power to the People.