Empty Hands – Page 5 – Empty Hands History

“Feminism Practices What Anarchism Preaches”: Anarcha-Feminism in the 20th Century (Panel Recording)

I recently organized an online panel at the Boston Anarchist Bookfair on November 14th (2021), which was recorded and uploaded to Youtube. My own talk, which begins around 41:20, is titled “‘We’re Pro-Choice and We Riot’: Anarcha-Feminism in Love and Rage (1989-98).” It is based on research and interviews that I have been conducting for my dissertation on North American anarchism in the late 20th century.

My talk explores the theorization and practice of revolutionary intersectional anarcha-feminism, with a major focus on abortion and reproductive freedom but also addressing queer and trans liberation, debates around pornography, CUNY student struggles, and the fight against patriarchy within Love and Rage itself. You can watch it here:

As I say in my presentation, if you were involved with any of what I discuss I would love to talk to you about it! Check out more about the anarchist oral history project I’m involved in here.

White Workers and Race Treason in Revolutionary Struggle

Noel Ignatiev used to say that the biggest impediment to revolution in the United States is that most white workers identify more with their race than with their class. Thus, they side with the white ruling class in order to obtain what W.E.B. Du Bois called the “wages of whiteness” that separate them from workers of color and prevent effective working class unity [ed: a friend reminded me that this phrase was actually from David Roediger riffing off of Du Bois]. How does this play out in practice and how can we break the cycle of white identification?

A friend of mine told me about his recent trip to the West Virginia Mine Wars Museum, which chronicles the miner’s strike and armed uprising that led to the 1921 Battle of Blair Mountain. As he explored the town, he saw a flyer advertising a support group for addicts. It was a standard pitch, something like: “Do you feel alone and unsupported? Are you dealing with addiction? Are you in debt and struggling to make ends meet? Come to our weekly support group for help to get back on your feet.” The kicker was that at the bottom, it was signed by the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan.

Let’s dig into this scenario. Imagine a poor white opiate addict, a young person working a minimum wage job without a clear future. The relatively good jobs that had given their parents and grandparents a higher standard of living have disappeared. They feel that they have nowhere to turn for support, for community, for hope of a better life. What comes next?

1. They could see this flyer for the KKK-run addiction group. They go to a meeting where they find a supportive community that tells them that they are not alone and they are not broken. The group make them believe that there is the possibility to be strong and whole with hope for a better future. The problem is that immigrants, Black people, and globalist (Jewish) elites have stolen their job and their dignity. Rather than identify with a multiracial working class, their problems (and their solution) are articulated along racial lines. They are led to identity with their whiteness as the only path towards a better life. This is the base for fascism in the United States.

2. Imagine that this person encounters a different flyer. It has a similar message around addiction support but it is posted instead by a local DSA chapter or anarchist mutual aid network. This group provides support for them on an individual level but they also supply a different analysis of their problems and a very different solution. The blame is not placed on immigrants, Black people, or Jews, but rather on the capitalist system that exploits and oppresses the vast majority of people. The group helps to unionize the worker’s low-wage job, thereby showing the material benefits of struggle and solidarity with all workers (including, we might imagine, an immigrant worker who was previously the target of scorn and abuse by white workers). This process helps the person to identify with their class rather than their race. They see that multi-racial workers’ solidarity actually improves their material conditions, and they are drawn into the anti-racist left.

3. What do the Democrats offer to this person? For better or worse, liberals tell them that they can identify neither with their race nor their class. Dems perhaps offer a tepid job training program and admonish them to abandon the white privilege that they cling to as their last remaining hope. Is it any surprise that the person might reject this option? And that, in the absence of a strong leftwing alternative, they might be pulled in by the fascist, white supremacist path of the KKK? If the left isn’t there offering a model for white workers to identify with and fight for their class interests, then the fascists will certainly do it with race.

After Trump’s election in 2016, people wrote a whole series of postmortems evaluating the role that the white working class played. On the one hand, “economic anxiety” was blamed; on the other, white supremacy and racism. I think that this debate misses the point of how politics actually works. Most people are exploited under capitalism, including the white working class. Most people, again including the white working class, also experience assaults on their sense of dignity and worth. The question is not whether or not individual white people are fundamentally racist, but rather how their grievances are articulated into a coherent set of politics.

The same grievances can be framed in either race-based terms (Trump tells white workers that Mexican immigrants stole their jobs) or class-based terms (Bernie tells white workers that capitalists shipped their jobs overseas). In the first case, immigrants are the enemy that must be combatted, and thus struggle is articulated in racial terms. In the second case, capitalists are the enemy that must be combatted, and thus struggle is articulated in class terms. The point is not to convince white people in abstract moral terms that they should give up their white privilege, but rather to offer a political analysis and strategy for improving their lives through identification and struggle within the multi-racial working class.

This analysis is not based on morality but rather on strategy. None of this is a call for people of color to have more sympathy for white people or move to rural areas to organize them. I think white radicals have a specific role to play here. It’s not just about doing what is morally right, but rather preventing fascism from spreading further and offering a revolutionary alternative.

Note that I am not calling for “color-blindness.” Disidentification with whiteness requires an active process of treason and struggle against white supremacy, not a simple disavowal of the privilege of one’s skin color. The point is not for white people to simply check their privilege, but rather for us to develop and popularize modes of analysis and struggle that enable white people to identify common interests with people of color and fight together to overthrow this system and build a new world in its place.

Analyzing Biden’s Spending Bill: A Debate Between Sectors of Capital

Here is my general read of the current situation with the Democrats trying to pass Biden’s spending bill, framed within a broader conflict between different sectors of capital:

The Republicans and the Democrats represent different sectors of capital, broadly speaking. The Republicans generally represent less dynamic (even dying) sectors whereas the Democrats represent more progressive and dynamic sectors (particularly big tech and “green” industry).

Part of why the Republicans have gotten more reactionary is that they literally represent dying industries and the white labor aristocracy that has benefited from these industries (think coal mining, old manufacturing jobs, etc.). All that the Republicans can do is to try to preserve what they see as the good old days, from the perspective of both their capitalist and working class bases. I think the future for them is either fascist seizure of power (electoral or otherwise) or a major shakeup.

The Democrats, on the other hand, represent more of the future of capitalism. They are concentrated in the most dynamic, forward-looking, innovative sectors. Big tech gets a lot of the focus, but I think the key here is the green energy sector. Green capitalism—which will still depend on the exploitation of people, land, and animals, but in an ostensibly kinder and more sustainable guise—is likely the way that capital will try to save itself both from climate catastrophe and mass movements demanding a livable world. This might require a relatively substantial break with neoliberal orthodoxy.

But not all Democrats are united around this. It seems clear that Joe Manchin represents one of the major dying sectors of capitalism: coal mining. The fight between different sectors of capital is not over within the party, although it could conceivably be over soon.

I think this framework of understanding the Dems and Repubs as representing different sectors of capital helps explain what is going on here. For what it’s worth, I actually think that most Democrats in office truly want to pass the spending bill. This isn’t all just a show with Manchin and Sinema acting as convenient scapegoats (though I imagine that is part of it). Biden’s plan isn’t radical or socialist. It will arguably be good for the reproduction and growth of capitalism—or at least, for the most dynamic sectors of the nascent green capitalism.

There is a real split within the capitalist/ruling class here. The options on offer are two different visions of the future of capitalism—green capitalism vs fascist reaction. I obviously don’t think either are good. But this dissension gives an opening for us to organize and push for a truly transformative vision that will overcome the contradictions of capitalism and present an alternative both to fascist reaction and to the “green capitalism” that is waiting in the wings.

A Roving Band of Anarcho-Punks: The Vermont Family’s Revitalization of American Anarchism

The Vermont Family was a roving band of anarcho-punks that helped build the American anarchist movement in the 1980s. They were a key element of the connective tissue that linked the dispersed anarchist milieu. The Family originally came together within the “Great Peace March for Global Nuclear Disarmament,” in which hundreds of people walked from Los Angeles to Washington, DC over the course of nine months in 1986. As many of the liberals dropped out or retreated to cars, a core group of anarchists coalesced to form a traveling “anarchy village” which grew from 15 to around 70 or 80 people. They ran the village through consensus and promoted anarchist politics within the march. After the march reached DC, the Family stayed together as a loose network of travelers, comrades, and friends.

The name of the Vermont Family came from a sort of collective joke. One punk in the anarchy village shared a story about Vermont: apparently it was written in the state constitution that in 1991, two hundred years after its founding, there would be a popular vote on whether the state would remain part of the country. Thus, a fantastical plan was hatched to convince anarchists to move to Vermont and push it to secede from the union. It goes without saying that this did not happen, and it turned out that Vermont had no such plan to put its status to a vote (the similarity of this plan to the later right-libertarian New Hampshire Free State Project is interesting to note). But the moniker stuck as both an inside joke and badge of identification, and many people in the crew adopted it as part of their names.

The Vermont Family formed on the road and stayed on the road throughout their existence until 1989. In their years of traveling, they played a crucial role that has gone unacknowledged in the histories of this era: they formed the interpersonal connections that were necessary to build a continental network of anarchists.

This past summer, I interviewed a person named Mike, who was one of the core members of the Family. He pointed out that in the age of the internet, it is hard for us to understand how an anarchist milieu could function in the 1980s. It required people to travel and make physical connections between far-flung collectives and projects. Some of the Family traveled in an old bus, some hitchhiked; like a punk version of Ken Kesey’s Merry Band of Pranksters, the Family spread anarchy everywhere they went. A few of them even made their way to West Germany, where they lived in squats and participated in the larger, more militant movement there. They took what they learned back to the US, where they helped to popularize models from the German Autonomen: squatted social centers, infoshops, and black bloc tactics.

When major actions or gatherings were planned in an American city, members of the Vermont crew would show up months in advance, put down temporary roots, and help organize a bigger and better event. They were central to the series of annual national convergences—Chicago 1986, Minneapolis 1987, Toronto 1988, and San Francisco 1989—that established continental networks of dedicated anarchist militants. The Crew stayed on the road until 1989, when a large number of them went to San Francisco to help organize the 1989 Anarchist Gathering. Finding fertile ground, many of them settled down for the long term in the Bay Area. They established several large collective houses that served as major hubs for both the local and national movement in the 1990s. Many of them remained active in Love and Rage, Anti-Racist Action, and other anarchist projects.

I have not yet been able to find any documentation of the Vermont Family beyond my oral history interviews, but its story is central to the broader history of the revitalization of anarchism in the 1980s.

Building the Movement: The Rebirth of Anarchism, 1986-89

I’m working on a new piece that will become the first chapter of my dissertation on American anarchism in the late 20th century. I will share more in the future, but here is a short excerpt:

The American left floundered in the 1980s. Reagan and the New Right led a counterrevolution against the social gains of the 1960s and 70s. The last vestiges of the New Left splintered into increasingly irrelevant Marxist-Leninist sects and single issue campaigns. State repression, particularly targeted against Black, Chicano, and indigenous national liberation movements, targeted and crushed a generation of their most talented organizers and fighters. The left in the 1980s was in retreat, fighting rearguard battles to defend what they could against the onslaught of neoliberal globalization and to act in solidarity with movements elsewhere (particularly in Central America and South Africa).

Yet in the middle of this generalized defeat of the left, the anarchist movement underwent a process of revitalization and rebirth. It went from a marginalized, fragmented collection of local struggles and small collectives in the early 1980s to a strong, relatively coordinated national movement by the beginning of the 1990s. This decade marked the shift from Marxism-Leninism and state socialism to the anarchistic forms of social struggle that came to define the turn-of-the-century anti-globalization movement. What caused this shift?

In this article, I argue that the revitalization of anarchism took place for two main reasons. First, the transformation of social, political, and economic conditions, in the US and globally, discredited other forms of left-wing politics. The New Left fizzled under repression, the Soviet Union continued down the path of decay and fought a losing (arguably imperialist) war in Afghanistan, and neoliberal globalization swept the world. State-centered socialism, whether revolutionary or parliamentary, appeared increasingly unviable and even undesirable. Anarchism was particularly well-suited to offer an alternative, as anarchists offered an anti-state and anti-capitalist analysis and set of practices that pointed a new way forward through the challenges of neoliberal globalization. But favorable circumstances did not guarantee the rise of the anarchist movement.

More importantly, a core group of anarchists across the country took advantage of the circumstances and began to consciously build a national movement. Committed pro-organization anarchists, most notably the roving band of anarcho-punks in the “Vermont Family” and the rabble-rousers of the Minneapolis-based Revolutionary Anarchist Bowling League (RABL), formed a pole around which the diffuse anarchist milieu began to coalesce into an actual movement that could coordinate across the country. This took place largely through a series of annual convergences: Chicago 1986, Minneapolis 1987, Toronto 1988, and San Francisco 1989. In telling the story of these gatherings, I argue that this series of national convergences was the most important factor in the revitalization of anarchism as a revolutionary movement in the 1980s. The convergences laid the foundation for the flowering of the anarchist movement in following decade.

“Anarcho-Beef People”: Against All Domination at Anarchist Gatherings (1986-89)

A series of annual gatherings from 1986 to 1989 revitalized the anarchist movement and built the infrastructure for national and continental coordination. I will share more writing about this in the future, but I wanted to share a quick anecdote about the debates over food and animal liberation at these convergences. They offer a window into the evolving values and ethical norms of the anarchist movement at the time. Anarchists developed a commitment to fighting all forms of oppression, hierarchy, and domination—including of other species—rather than solely focusing on capitalism and the state.

*****

The first national convergence was held in Chicago in 1986 to commemorate the centennial of the Haymarket Affair. Several hundred people from across the country attended a few days of workshops and a major demonstration. Tensions at the gathering reflected the political and ethical debates taking place within the anarchist movement around the question of animal liberation. Although there is a long history of vegetarian anarchism, this became a major concern in the late twentieth century.

The Chicago organizers served a non-vegetarian friendly (and certainly non-vegan) meal at the major Saturday banquet. This, some attendees felt, was no accidental oversight. Rather, it happened because (as one attendee later reflected) “they don’t like vegetarians.” Tensions rose, fueled by both ethical concerns and hunger. An impromptu demonstration ensued in which, a participant describes, “the street theater crowd from San Francisco began milling around the middle of the room on all fours, mooing and clucking and being herded by a vegan speechifier with an imaginary whip” who then proceeded to “slaughter” the “cows.”

Although the demonstration was largely received in good humor, an associated group handed out incendiary flyers attacking “anarcho-beef people.” The distribution of this flyer provoked strong negative reactions against “preachy vegans” and for a moment it appeared that a physical fight might actually break out. Tensions soon calmed, however—or at least, much of the anger was redirected towards an argument around anti-Semitic flyers distributed by another attendee. (The latter is a story for another time.)

*****

The next annual anarchist gathering, in Minneapolis in 1987, was a crucial step in the path towards a national anarchist network. It was organized with the intention of coordinating the de-centralized movement and laying the groundwork for a national organization. Unlike the previous convergence, which was organized mostly by older folks in a group called “Some Chicago Anarchists,” this one was put on by younger people who were more immersed in the growing anarchist milieu (including its ethical debates).

The Minneapolis crew framed the convergence around “Building the Movement.” While they hosted a wide range of workshops, including anarcho-punk DIY staples like how to dumpster food and brew your own beer, the focus was on facilitating strategic conversations and building the infrastructure for a coordinated national movement. Thus, throughout the gathering there was a “movement building track” of strategic discussions and meetings.

Part of this focus on building the movement entailed avoiding the unnecessary, distracting conflicts of the previous year’s gathering. For one, the organizers vowed to avoid the previous year’s arguments around food by simply serving all vegetarian meals. Of course, this was based in large part around an ethical commitment to animal liberation, but one key participant shared in a recent interview with me that it was also a conscious decision to avoid unnecessary drama and dissension.

The banquet was catered by a vegetarian workers’ cooperative called the New Riverside Cafe. This was specifically noted in a pre-convergence mass mailing to anarchists across the country. It seems that the organizers meant to be clear from the beginning that the meat-headed (sorry) mistakes of Chicago would not be repeated. There would be no protestors pretending to be mooing cows, no near fist fights over burgers.

In part because of its superior organization (including around the question of food), the Minneapolis gathering was a smashing success. It laid the groundwork for the next two annual meetings, in Toronto (‘88) and San Francisco (’89), which set the scene for the anarchist movement in the 1990s.

(Sources for the Chicago gathering come from the zine “Mob Action Against the State: Haymarket Remembered… An Anarchist Convention.”)

Anarchist Oral History Project: Seeking Interviews

Have you been involved in anarchist projects or organizations in the United States from the 1970s-2000s? We would like to interview you for an Anarchist Oral History Project!

Spencer Beswick (he/him) is a PhD candidate writing his dissertation on the history of US anarchism in the late 20^th century, with a particular focus on Love and Rage. Spencer has been active in anarchist and other left projects for the past decade, beginning with participation in Occupy Boston and currently consisting of helping to run a Marxist reading group and socialist night school where he lives in Ithaca, NY.

Connected to his dissertation research, Spencer is involved with a broader Anarchist Oral History Project seeking to interview a wide swathe of movement participants from the 1960s to today. He is looking to interview anyone involved in anarchist projects and organizations in the late 20^th and early 21^st century, particularly (but certainly not limited to) Love and Rage and associated groups like Anti-Racist Action. Spencer is located in NYC for Fall 2021 and will be traveling for research and interviews in 2022. You can reach him at spencerbeswick@gmail.com or emptyhands@protonmail.com.

Reading Amyl and the Sniffers’ “Capital” Politically

“Comfort to me, what does that even mean? One reason, do we persevere?/
Existing for the sake of existing, meaning disappears.”

Thus opens the song “Capital” from the Australian punk band Amyl and the Sniffers’ new album, Comfort To Me. The album is shaped by the same driving intensity of their previous music, but it takes further steps towards conscious political opposition to patriarchy, capitalism, and settler colonialism. In this short piece, I analyze the lyrics of “Capital” to explore this political evolution. After detouring through Marx’s “Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844,” I ultimately argue for the utility of cultivating radical political consciousness in subcultural milieus, which seemingly laid the foundation for Amyl and the Sniffers’ political turn.

***

The turn to conscious politics is signaled first by the recognition of the politics of personal experience. The singer, Amy, attempts to reclaim her body and life from the world of patriarchal standards and violence, and she recognizes this as the first step in “basic politics”:

“Meanwhile, I only just started learning basic politics/
Meanwhile, they sexualize my body and get mad when I exploit it”

On another song on the album, “Knifey,” she addresses the threat of violence against women and vows to fight back.

“All I ever wanted was to walk by the park/
All I ever wanted was to walk by the river, see the stars/
Please! Stop fucking me up
. . .
Out comes the night, out comes my knifey/
This is how I get home nicely.”

Since society will not accept her efforts at self-determination or even basic safety, Amy realizes that she has to fight for it. This basic recognition of the contradictions of patriarchal violence and exploitation lay the foundation for a broader reckoning with a sick culture that is ultimately driven by capital. The chorus of the song puts it simply:

“It’s just for capital/
Am I an animal?/
It’s just for capital, capital, capital./
But do I care at all?”

The “animalization” of humanity by capital takes us back to Marx’s early analysis of wage labor under capitalism in his “Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844.” Marx argues that labor under capitalism has been transformed into an experience that alienates us (removes us) from what makes us human, and thus reduces us to the level of animals.

Marx argues that capitalism is experienced as an intensely alienating social system because it perverts the fundamental activity that makes us human. Unlike animals, humans produce the conditions of our own social lives: food, clothing, shelter, culture, etc. When we labor, we put part of ourselves into the object of production. In a non-capitalist system, we produce goods for the use of ourselves, our families, and our communities. We put our life into the products, but we “regain” this life when our community uses the goods.

Under capitalist wage labor, commodities are produced not for use but rather for exchange value. We labor not to feed, clothe, and shelter ourselves and our community, but rather for the sake of profit for a capitalist. We imbue the commodities we produce with our life, but they confront us as something outside of ourselves, in control of another person for their profit. These commodities become “fetishes”: they seem to be imbued with energy of their own which is disconnected from the labor that has produced them. Capitalism becomes a system in which commodities interact with each other in the marketplace, disguising the real social relations between humans. We suffer a profound disconnect with the world and our own sense of humanity.

The characteristic of labor as external to the worker means that “the worker therefore only feels himself outside his work, and in his work feels outside himself.” But this feeling of alienation at work has expanded to encompass our entire lives. Unlike in Marx’s time, we are now confronted with an entire world that takes the commodity form. Western societies have turned into mass consumer societies, where what makes us human outside of work is literally buying commodities. If these commodities are the products of something that is so alien to us, this is bound to be a very alienating existence. We have as little control over the world of commodities as we do over the political processes that lead to the destruction of the natural world. Again, “It’s just for capital/Am I an animal?”

***

In the next verse, Amyl and the Sniffers turn towards the destructive effects of climate change:

“Australia is burning, but, aye, I’m not learning how to be more conscious/
And the farmers hope for rain while the landscape torches/
Swimming in the river, I’m part of the river, not convinced how much will change/
Experiencing experiences as if they’re all the same”

Amy is swimming in the river of existence, seeing the terrible effects of climate change but unable to conceive of how her actions could change the situation. She is left with a feeling of alienation from existence, alienation from her own experience. This is a classic response to the alienation of life under capitalism. As she says in a second part of the chorus: “Freedom don’t exist/humans don’t exist/existing to exist/life is meaningless.” This again reflects Marx’s analysis: capitalism animalizes us, meaning that humans no longer exist; under capitalism, we exist just to exist, work just to survive, and thus life is meaningless.

***

After beginning with her own experience as a woman under capitalism, Amy begins to question the entire existence of Australia itself. In the next verse, she snarls that:

“First port of call should be changing the date and changing the flag/
Of course I have disdain for this place, what are you thinking?/
You took their kids and you locked them up, up in a prison”

She is referring to the process of settler colonialism in Australia, specifically how the children of the aboriginal peoples were stolen as official government policy up until the 1960s and into the 1970s. Settler colonialism and genocide of the indigenous peoples laid the foundation for Australia as a country. Thus, the entire project is rotten and must be challenged at its core.

The key here, for me, is how she expresses this analysis: “*of course* I have disdain for this place.” It is a common sense rejection of the brutality of settler colonialism, a common sense rejection of the Australian project: “of course.” And yet, this is clearly not broadly shared across Australian society. Rather, I think it is a common sense that is actively cultivated in youth subculture, particularly punk. This is how a punk band such as Amyl and the Sniffers can release a song with a “common sense” rejection of the Australian state and capitalism. The common sense is also based on an ethical connection between the personal and the political: Amy easily connects her own experience as a woman fighting to determine her own relationship to her body and sexuality to an ethical rejection of settler colonialism and capitalist exploitation.

***

So, where do we go from here? Given our alienation and the meaninglessness of life under late capitalism, perhaps an answer begins with the cultivation of intensity: new forms of life that are non-commodified, that prioritize direct experience in the search for meaning. The last verse of “Capital” gestures towards this possibility:

“So ordinary and normal, don’t see the intensity that it is/
And I wonder why I get dopamine released when I give/
Disdain and excitement dually, the illusion can be fleeting/
I love feeling drunk on the illusion of meaning”

Of course, this ends on an ambivalent note. Does the intensity of a punk show provide real meaning, or is it just another illusion? The next step, I think, is to take the intensity of a punk show—and the broader forms of life and common sense that the punk scene enables—and draw connections with other oppositional spaces, intensities, and projects. This can help create archipelagos of resistance, networks that produce a fighting coalition of (sub)cultural forms that together can challenge capital and replace its animalization with a meaningful life. The question then becomes how to move from scattered subcultural resistance to a broader, more coherent counterhegemonic force. We can start with punk, but we cannot end there.

Creating ‘New Porn’: Anarcha-Feminism vs. Onlyfans

What can anarcha-feminists in the late 20th century offer our analysis of the recent Onlyfans debacle, when the company unsuccessfully attempted to ban pornography from the online platform? Going back to Emma Goldman and the Industrial Workers of the World, anarchists have long supported organizing alongside sex workers in their fight for better working conditions and, ultimately, an end to both patriarchal and capitalist violence. A century later, as debates over pornography raged in the late 20^th century, anarchists in Love and Rage (1989-98) analyzed porn from an anti-state feminist framework. Although some members opposed pornography and advocated direct action to disrupt its production, most supported a new vision of liberatory pornography. This “new porn” would model consensual, joyful sex outside the rigid bounds of heterosexual patriarchy. Crucially, it would be controlled by sex workers themselves, who would have autonomy and self-determination in their work.

The debate in Love and Rage was kicked off in 1991, when anti-porn feminists argued in the organization’s newspaper that pornography perpetuated violence against women and reinforced male supremacy. In his 1991 article “Porn in Flames,” Richard Blake argues that pornography is inherently dehumanizing, oppressive, and violent. Although he disagrees with the state-focused tactics of Andrea Dworkin, he maintains that anarchists should resolutely oppose the porn industry and work against it. But what could this look like with an anti-state orientation?

Blake argues that the state cannot be expected to take action on pornography, and that even if it did, legal changes would not actually prevent pornography from being made and distributed.^[1] Instead of seeking to outlaw pornography, He urges anarchists to “fight it in the streets and on the job and in the home, in the same places where you claim to be fighting the state which sponsors it.”^[2] Ultimately, Blake maintains that “an anarchist movement that’s not dedicated to fighting the pornography industry isn’t a real anarchist movement.”^[3] The fight against pornography was ultimately a struggle for freedom, equality, and justice. As long as pornography existed, women would continue to be exploited and abused by men for profit and sexual pleasure.

Most Love and Ragers, however, disagreed with Blake’s analysis. Although they were not “pro-porn” per se, most anarchists opposed the anti-porn movement for its moralism and common advocacy of governmental censorship. Anarchists supported organizing alongside sex workers rather than view them as helpless “victims” to be saved by either the state or misguided activists.^[4] This, Laura Lib insists, is a much better anarchist approach to the problem of exploitation and oppression than a moralistic critique of the industry. Ultimately, they advocated for a new kind of pornography that would not oppress and exploit women, but rather be an avenue towards sexual liberation. What was needed was not to outlaw or abolish pornography, but rather to spread education and alternative models of sexuality.

Liz Highleyman argues that “since the typical pornographic representations of sexuality are so narrow and incomplete, we can make expanded and alternative images of sex and sexuality available, images that convey our own values of equality, mutuality, and consensuality.”^[5] Ms. Tommy Lawless agrees, explaining that she does not want to ban porn but rather see it “drastically changed”: “this is what creating ‘new porn’ means to me. It means asserting the personhood, will, and true desires of wimmin.”^[6] This “new porn” would also move beyond the bounds of heterosexuality and the male gaze. Queer pornography in particular could perhaps play a more liberating role than the usual heterosexual focus. Pornography as such was not inherently good or bad but rather was a tool and a medium that could be used either to oppress or to liberate.

What does this analysis have to offer to the situation with Onlyfans? Sex workers turned to Onlyfans in part to escape their exploitation and lack of control in the porn industry. Onlyfans gave them a platform to establish their own sources of revenue that they ostensibly controlled. This enabled them a degree of autonomy and self-determination, particularly during the Covid-19 pandemic. But because sex workers did not actually control the company, the Onlyfans bosses could make its own decisions without the workers’ input; thus, threatened with a loss of credit card revenue, they decided to ban pornography from the platform. Although a mass outcry eventually forced Onlyfans to reverse course, many sex workers had learned their lesson: they needed to build a platform that they controlled. Several alternatives are gaining popularity, including some that appear more sex-worker friendly, such as one started by a notable gay porn star. It remains to be seen whether they will be able to compete with Onlyfans and survive in the capitalist market.

The problem is not pornography per se, but rather the social structures surrounding it: patriarchy, capitalism, heterosexism, white supremacy. But until those are overthrown, self-determination and autonomy through organizing unions, worker cooperatives, and new online platforms would afford sex workers much more control over their lives, money, and working conditions. All this outside the purview of state control or censorship; a solution that the anarcha-feminists in Love and Rage could surely support.

[1] Richard Blake, “Porn In Flames,” 3.

[2] Richard Blake, “Porn In Flames,” 3.

[3] Richard Blake, “Porn In Flames,” 3.

[4] Laura Lib, “Love and Justice? Porn Debate: A Reply to Richard Blake’s ‘Porn in Flames,’” 7.

[5] Liz A. Highleyman, “1-900-XXX-Talk,” 2.

[6] Ms. Tommy Lawless, “D’Ya Believe in Homicide?” 3.

Living Communism: Theory and Practice of Autonomy and Attack

“So the revolutionary gesture no longer consists in a simple violent appropriation of this world; it divides into two. On the one hand, there are worlds to be made, forms of life made to grow apart from what reigns, including by salvaging what can be salvaged from the present state of things, and on the other, there is the imperative to attack, to simply destroy the world of capital… it’s clear that the worlds one constructs can maintain their apartness from capital only together with the fact of attacking it and conspiring against it… Only an affirmation has the potential for accomplishing the work of destruction. The destituent gesture is thus desertion and attack, creation and wrecking, and all at once, in the same gesture.”
The Invisible Committee[1]

I wrote this piece after I read Now (2017) when all I could think and write about was the Invisible Committee. I’m revisiting it to decide if I want to do anything with it. It still feels useful to me. Here’s the introduction:

May Day, 1987: thousands of Autonomen, the mysterious masked and black-clad “unruly youth” who are the terror of West Germany, riot in West Berlin. After a decade spent honing their street-fighting tactics, the revolutionaries stage an offensive against state repression by blocking streets, occupying buildings, and fighting a low-intensity urban guerrilla war against state forces. Continually expanding their liberated zone throughout the night, the Autonomen eventually control much of Kreuzberg, the dilapidated neighborhood that is their base. After a night of violent jubilation, they return to their numerous squatted houses and social centers to nurse their wounds, curse the police, and celebrate a temporary victory. Although the German media depicted the Autonomen as little more than violent mobs whose only motivation was destruction,[2] the radicals had also spent the previous decade painstakingly constructing—and fighting to defend—an extensive network of squatted alternative infrastructure across West Berlin and throughout West Germany.

Throughout the 1980s, the Autonomen squatted hundreds of abandoned buildings and turned them into group housing, social centers, movement bars, and cultural spaces used by the thousands of squatters and tens of thousands of supporters. They constructed rich networks of autonomous spaces meant to provide both alternative forms of living and bases of attack. At their best, these networks of alternative spaces and infrastructure functioned as dual power and urban liberated territory in which the revolution was lived through a communism of everyday life.

More recently, the Invisible Committee has theorized the commune as a space of everyday communism that constructs counter-infrastructure, transforms our relationship to each other and the territory we inhabit, and destitutes state power. The Invisible Committee is a collective of French post-autonomist communists (formerly operating under the moniker Tiqqun) who trace their intellectual lineage through Italian Autonomia and the German Autonomen, among others.[3] The collective is the best known of the contemporary theorists of post-autonomist communization.[4]

Though born in the Parisian squatting scene, the collective grew disillusioned with the radical subcultural milieu in the capital and moved to the tiny town of Tarnac, where they live communally and collectively run a farm, bar, and general store.[5] Introduced to the American popular imagination primarily through the controversy surrounding their book The Coming Insurrection (2007, 2009) and their sensational trial for domestic terrorism beginning in 2008 which finally concluded with acquittals earlier this year, the Invisible Committee has greatly influenced the contemporary ultra-Left in the United States.[6]

The Invisible Committee continued to develop their particular variety of post-autonomist communization theory in To Our Friends (2014), which reflects on the European movements of the squares and associated spectacular abortive insurrections (especially in Greece), and their latest work, Now (2017), which explores the possibilities and practices of communism present within the fragmented world of late capitalism. Although the collective is relatively widely read (sometimes even beyond the academic post-autonomist ultra-Left!), their historical and theoretical background is less well-known in the United States. This paper in part attempts to connect the collective’s theoretical work with the history and praxis of European autonomous movements that it draws from.

This paper will combine historical insights from the Autonomen with theoretical interventions from the Invisible Committee in order to make several related arguments. First, the commune form creates alternative worlds in which liberalism is combatted and collective struggle against alienation takes place. Second, communes operate according to a unique spatial logic that ruptures capitalist geography, promotes new spatial practices, and establishes non-alienated inhabitation of territory. Third, the Autonomen and the Invisible Committee theorize and act upon a new conception of communism as a collective practice of living the “good life” in revolutionary struggle rather than as solely a (future) economic system of organizing production. Fourth, alternative infrastructure provides the means to practice this everyday lived communism. Finally, revolutionary insurrectionary practice takes the form of networks of communes seceding from the capitalist system to form liberated territory that functions as a base from which to attack and destitute capitalist state power.

[1] The Invisible Committee, Now, 86-88.

[2] A stereotype that many within the movement cared little to contest; indeed, some Autonomen went so far as to believe that “freedom is the short moment between throwing a rock and the rock hitting its target. However, we all agree that, in the first place, we want to dismantle and to destroy—to formulate affirmative ideals is not our priority.” “Autonomous Theses 1981,” Fire and Flames, 174. I take some issue with this intentionally provocative statement though: as this paper details, it is clear that the Autonomen did indeed formulate affirmative ideals and act on them.

[3] In an early work of theirs, the Invisible Committee make this connection explicit. It is well worth quoting this section in full, in part to orient ourselves to the radical position from which to write of communes and revolution: “The ‘we’ that speaks here is not a delimitable, isolated we, the we of a group. It is the we of a position. In these times this position is asserted as a double secession: secession first with the process of capitalist valorisation; then secession with all the sterility entailed by a mere opposition to empire, extra-parliamentary or otherwise; thus a secession with the left. Here ‘secession’ means less a practical refusal to communicate than a disposition to forms of communication so intense that, when put into practice, they snatch from the enemy most of its force. To put it briefly, such a position refers to the force of irruption of the Black Panthers and the collective canteens of the German Autonomen, to the tree houses and art of sabotage of the British neo-luddites, to the careful choice of words of the radical feminists, to the mass self-reductions of the Italian autonomists, and the armed joy of the June 2nd Movement. From now on all friendship is political.” The Invisible Committee, Call, 10.

[4] The closest equivalent in the United States revolves around the currents of anarchism associated with CrimethInc. and the more recent formations expressed through the popular autonomist/anarchist website “It’s Going Down,” as well as the journal Endnotes (which is international, though mostly based in the UK). The Invisible Committee’s work is put out in the US by Semiotext(e), which has been responsible for the translation and popularization of much Italian and French autonomist theory. Several other small radical presses, including Minor Compositions, Autonomedia, and Little Black Cart, also publish (post-)autonomist theoretical work. See for example Benjamin Noys’s edited volume Communization and its Discontents: Contestation, Critique, and Contemporary Struggles (2011) for a contemporary exploration of some of the theoretical currents of post-autonomism and communization.

[5] Aaron Lake Smith, “Vive Le Tarnac Nine!”

[6] For US anarchist analysis of the trial and its impact, see CrimethInc., “The Tarnac Verdicts: Unraveling the Logic of Anti-Terrorism,” which traces the history of the trial as well as a little of the impact of the Invisible Committee on the US radical scene and the common roots and resonances of the Invisible Committee and CrimethInc.; and It’s Going Down, “The Palace of Justice: Inside the Tarnac Nine Trial.” The trial received widespread international attention because the (alleged) members of the Invisible Committee were charged with domestic terrorism for the act of (allegedly) sabotaging a train line that was transporting nuclear waste to Germany. Sabotage is, of course, a time-honored tradition in France, and many were aghast that this venerable historical practice was being treated as “terrorism.”