Category: History

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 20th 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 20th and early 21st 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.

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 20th 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.”

Neither East Nor West: Anarchism and the Soviet Dissolution

Since I’m based at the Interference Archive for a whole semester, I decided to start sharing interesting things that I find. Here is one: an anarchist analysis of the collapse of the Soviet Union as it is happening, in 1990.

It’s fascinating to read an anarchist analysis of the Soviet Bloc at this time. Bob McGlynn of “NYC Neither East Nor West,” who had extensive contacts with anarchists and other lefty dissidents in Eastern Europe, wrote an article in the Love and Rage newspaper (April 1990) titled “Whoopie! East Bloc Explodes!” in which he expresses the great hope but also danger of the time.

The hope:
“Watching one Stalinoid dictatorship after another crumble with embarrassing speed is even more fun than drinking beer! (Well almost.). . .

Many wonder if this [East-West solidarity] movement is over. Not at all. In fact, it’s needed now more than ever, given that Western capitalism is poised to eat the East alive, through debt and capital penetration. . . .

Opposition movements in the Soviet bloc remain. These are made up of anarchists, independent socialists, draft resisters, ecologists, anti-nuclear activists, workers, women, youth, gays. The battle for relative civil liberties may appear to be won, but the war for everything else is on. . .

In many ways, we’re only just beginning. For instance, the sporadic contacts between anarchists in both blocs can now be cemented. In April and Italian group is sponsoring a large gathering of East and West anarchists – the first time ever. In a sense we are at point zero. Now we can really move.”

The danger:
“Western capitalism is poised to eat the East alive, through debt and capital penetration. . . .

The barbed wire and concrete borders are now being replaced by a border less tangible: that of money/commodity relations and rule. And this game, like the old one, has only enough room for a few players.”

In 1990, the future was open for action. McGlynn ends:
“The paradox is that as the world has gotten very interesting recently, it’s also simultaneously becoming increasingly monotone and banal. Pepsi power, etc. This, then, is prime territory for adventurers seeking seams in this seemingly seamless whole. It’s been remarked that with Stalinism collapsing, we are now ‘at the end of history.’ Rather, perhaps, we are only at its beginning.”

Indeed. But McGlynn’s fears were realized as capitalism remade the former Soviet Bloc in its image. Could this have been prevented with more effective anti-state socialist organizing and more widespread solidarity work across borders from below? Was a libertarian socialist alternative possible? Or was the choice always simply between Stalinism and neoliberalism?

“We’re Here, We’re Queer, and We Hate the Government!”: Queer Anarchism in Love and Rage

Anarchists in Love and Rage (1989-98) pushed the struggle for queer liberation in radical directions. Members actively participated in gay and lesbian marches, developed an anarchist approach to queer politics, and joined ACT UP in fighting for people with AIDS.

Anarchists often had a visible presence at queer demonstrations and pushed radical action at them. For instance, Jan Kraker from the NYC Autonomous Anarchist Action describes how AAA brought a militant edge to queer organizing at a 1990 rally commemorating the Stonewall uprising. They dressed in Black Bloc and brought a banner to the rally that provided direction for the otherwise inchoate crowd. Kraker describes how “what had been a [sic] unorganized mass of people outside a bar had turned into a spirited march behind a ‘Queer Without Fear—Autonomous Anarchist Action’ banner.”[1]

This exemplifies how Love and Rage encouraged broader movements to take a more radical, confrontational approach. It was not necessarily about convincing them to become anarchists or join the organization, but rather spreading new tactics and values that had been developed within the anarchist movement of the 1980s. In this vein, Liz A. Highleyman advocated collective participation in the queer march on Washington in 1993, arguing that “it is important that anarchists have a presence in the march to let people know that we cannot rely on laws and the government to guarantee queer liberation.”[2] Anarchist chants included “We’re fucking anarchists, we’ll fuck whoever we want!” and “We’re here, we’re Queer, and we hate the government!”[3] A group of Red & Anarchist Skinheads marched with a banner reading “Anti-Racist Skinheads and Punx Against Homophobia” and chanted “Oi! Oi! Oi! We fuck boys!”[4]

Beyond participating in queer activism, anarcha-feminists argued that there was something inherently queer about the anarchist rejection of all structures of social domination. For instance, Highleyman notes about the anarchist contingent at the 1993 march that “Gay, Lesbian, Bi, hetero or undefined, all the anarchists were queer in their own way.”[5] Lin L. Elliot goes further, arguing in a powerful article linking queer and indigenous resistance that the “new activism of the 80s and 90s has already shown us the way. ACT UP and, more recently, Queer Nation, embody an unmistakably Queer perspective; non-hierarchical, even anarchical, they combine seriousness with humor, politics with play.”[6] Queer and anarchist politics both embodied this non-hierarchical, fluid approach to the world.

This perspective prefigured later developments in queer anarchist theory. The Mary Nardini Gang argues in “Toward the Queerest Insurrection” in 2014 that queer is not simply a sexual identity but rather “the qualitative position of opposition to presentations of stability […] Queer is the cohesion of everything in conflict with the heterosexual capitalist world. […] By ‘queer’, we mean ‘social war.’ And when we speak of queer as a conflict with all domination, we mean it.”[7] In this view, anarchism is inherently queer because it rejects the “normalcy” of capitalist patriarchy and struggles against all forms of hierarchy and oppression.

Anarchists also participated in AIDS activism, although they critiqued the state-centric elements of the movement. ACT UP drew upon many anarchistic values and practices: it was decentralized, grassroots, and direct-action oriented, and it operated outside of the state in many ways. Members formed alternative health networks, squatted buildings for people with AIDS to live in, provided safer-sex education, volunteer service organizations, and more.[8] Despite this, ACT UP focused largely on spectacular actions meant to pressure the government to act on AIDS. Anarchists generally rejected this strategy on principle.

Liz Highleyman critiques ACT UP from an anarchist perspective in her article “Anarchism and AIDS Activism.” She argues that “the government does not represent our best interests [so] it would be foolish to rely on it as a source of solutions […] we would be better off putting the time, money (including taxes), and effort that we currently devote to petitioning, supporting, and evading the government into alternative activities that meet our needs directly.”[9]

It is unclear from Highleyman’s piece, however, what she sees as the alternative: despite her call to “develop solutions that do not rely on the state,” would it really have been possible or practical to quickly develop effective treatments for AIDS without state intervention?[10] Indeed, Highleyman’s critique of ACT UP did not go unchallenged. In the next issue of the newspaper, a letter from Eric L. Sambach pushed back against her conclusion that ACT UP did not live up to the “anarchist ideal.” Sambach says that

ACT UP was not set up as an anarchist ideal, but to develop an effective response to the AIDS crisis. ACT UP members see a situation where rapidly growing numbers of people are dying as an emergency. In an emergency we do whatever works to enhance and save lives. Whether that action fits an anarchist or other model of social organization is another, and in these terms, theoretical question.[11]

Whether or not ACT UP strictly conformed to anarchist theory and practice was beside the point; AIDS activists took whatever opportunity they could to respond to an existential crisis. It may be useful to lay out an anarchist critique of state-centered AIDS activism, but to apply a “pure” anarchist standard to ACT UP verged on a dogmatic prioritization of anarchist politics over the lives of people with AIDS.

[1] Jan Kraker, “Faeries, Anarchists and Others Commemorate Stonewall,” Love and Rage, Vol. 1 No. 5 (August 1990), 4-5.

[2] Liz A. Highleyman, “Queer March in April,” Love and Rage, Vol. 4, No. 1 (February/March 1993), 3.

[3] Liz A. Highleyman, “Anarchists Join Queer March,” Love and Rage, Vol. 4 No. 3 (June/July 1993), 1. I personally witnessed a similar chant at the NATO summit protests in Chicago in 2012: “we’re here, we’re queer, we’re anarchists we’ll fuck you up!”

[4] Ibid., 6.

[5] Ibid., 6.

[6] Lin L. Elliot, “500 Queers of Resistance,” Love and Rage, Vol. 3, No. 5 (June 1992), 2.

[7] Mary Nardini Gang, “Toward the Queerest Insurrection,” (2014).

[8] Liz Highleyman, “Anarchism and AIDS Activism,” Love and Rage, Vol 2. No. 6 (June/July 1991), 10.

[9] Ibid., 11.

[10] Ibid., 11.

[11] Eric L. Sambach, letter titled “Purpose Pragmatism and Privilege,” Love and Rage, Vol. 2 No. 7 (August 1991), 2.

“To Repulse The State From Our Uteri”: Anarcha-Feminist Abortion Struggle

Woman holding a flag and a sign reading “Free my uterus! And all other political prisoners.” From Liz A. Highleyman, “Reproductive Freedom in Everyday Life,” Love and Rage Vol. 3, No. 2, 1992.

I’ve been working on an article on anarcha-feminism in the late 1980s-90s, focusing primarily on abortion struggle (in part in response to the new Texas anti-abortion law). As the anarcha-feminist Liz Highleyman put it in 1992, “The day when abortion is again made illegal may come sooner than we like to think. We must be ready to take our bodies and our lives into our own hands.”

Anarcha-feminists were on the front lines of the militant struggle for abortion. They were convinced that Roe v. Wade would not last forever and that they could not depend on the state and the legal system to protect abortion, so their analysis and political practice feel particularly relevant today. Anarcha-feminists generally took a three-pronged approach to abortion struggle: construction of women’s infrastructure, defense of abortion infrastructure, and a combative relationship with the state. (Note that the language in this post is very gender-normative because this is the language that the feminists I’m looking at used at the time.)

1. Construction of women’s infrastructure: establishing autonomous infrastructure (health clinics, etc.) and self-help groups in which women learned to take care of their own bodies and induce abortions on their own terms. As one anonymous anarchist put it in an article called “Laws and Outlaws,” “Medicine is something we must take into our own hands. Because how can you smash the state if you’re still walking funny from a visit to the gynecologist’s?”

This meant first and foremost an urgent need to (as Highleyman wrote) “rebuild the network of feminist women’s health and reproductive resources that existed in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s,” particularly organizations like the Chicago Jane Collective which provided underground abortions before they were legalized. While anarcha-feminists supported abortions provided by accredited doctors, their focus on women’s autonomy led them to draw on alternative traditions of women-controlled health practices. This includes herbal and holistic methods which women have used “throughout the ages […] to control their fertility and reproduction.” Thus anarchists advocated expanding grassroots infrastructure and self-organization to gain the knowledge and skills necessary to perform their own reproductive care. This would produce true reproductive freedom and autonomy, independent of the state and its laws.

2. Defense of abortion infrastructure: physically protecting abortion clinics from the attacks of Operation Rescue and others. Many non-anarchists took part in this, of course, but anarcha-feminists brought Black Bloc tactics and a willingness to engage in physical confrontation, and they were very successful in preventing Operation Rescue from shutting down clinics in NYC, Minneapolis, San Francisco, and in many other places across the country.

But anarcha-feminists believed that defense of infrastructure was not enough. They vowed to go after Operation Rescue, prevent them from meeting, and disrupt them anywhere they went. When Operation Rescue attempted to host a summer training camp in Minneapolis in 1993, anarchists physically confronted Operation Rescue, blocked them in their church, disrupted their meetings, vandalized their materials, protected clinics from their attacks, and generally made them unwelcome. Although some liberals opposed these tactics, anarchists and other militants handed Operation Rescue a major defeat and ran them out of town.

Reflecting on the experience, an anarchist named Liza wrote in an article titled “Minnesota Not Nice to Operation Rescue,” that “it seems like no matter how hard activists fight, we rarely win. Except this time we were victorious. We fought against these fascists […] We saw the demise of Operation Rescue in the Twin Cities, partly due to our unprecedented aggressiveness and opposition, and partly because their movement is losing, big time.”

3. Combative relationship with the state: anarcha-feminists did not appeal to the state to maintain the right to abortion. They believed that the state was inherently patriarchal and was ultimately the enemy of women. In place of the slogan “we’re pro-choice and we vote,” anarcha-feminists marched behind a banner reading “we’re pro-choice and we riot.”

Anarcha-feminists attempted to insert anarchist analysis into the mainstream feminist movement and convince feminists not to focus on legalistic, state-centered activism. They supported struggles to maintain legal abortion, but they cautioned that the state could not be trusted to maintain the right to abortion, and women must be ready to act on their own terms to maintain their bodily autonomy and self-determination. This meant taking power into their own hands.

As Sunshine Smith remarks, forming self-help medical groups and abortion infrastructure in the Bay Area “has, in very concrete ways, made our struggle against the anti-abortion group Operation ‘Rescue’ and the ‘Supreme’ Court stronger and more effective. We have learned that if the time comes, we can and will do home abortions. We are becoming physically aware of the invasion the government is conducting into our bodies. We are now able to repulse the state from our uteri because we are gaining the knowledge that enables us to control our own bodies.”

Race, Gender, and Anarchist Cultural Politics

Check out the recording of the panel discussion I organized on Race, Gender, and Anarchist Cultural Politics! (See the description below.) We are thinking about hosting an event series on anarchist history this fall, please reach out if you are interested in participating! You can email me at scb274@cornell.edu

Anarchist movements have not only organized workers and challenged state power, but also produced vibrant cultures of resistance. In this panel, Kirwin Shaffer, Montse Feu, and Spencer Beswick examine how anarchists have engaged with questions of race and gender in their cultural production in Cuba and the United States.

Tracing diasporic networks and grappling with intersectional identities that traversed political and cultural boundaries, the presenters explore the mixed legacy of anarchist movements in their struggles to overcome racialized and gendered limitations to their emancipatory visions. ————————————————————————-

Kirwin Shaffer: “The Multiple Uses of Race, Ethnicity, Gender, and Sexuality in Cuban Anarchist Culture” 0:15

Montse Feu: “Women Fighting Fascist Spain: Protest and Solidarity in the United States” 19:56

Spencer Beswick: “Smashing Whiteness: Race, Class, and Punk Culture in the Love and Rage Revolutionary Anarchist Federation” 37:30

————————————————————————-

Panelists:

• Kirwin Shaffer is Professor of Latin American Studies at Penn State University – Berks College. He is author of three books on anarchism in the Caribbean (Anarchist Cuba, Black Flag Boricuas, and Anarchists of the Caribbean) and co-editor of the award-winning edited collection In Defiance of Boundaries: Anarchism in Latin American History.

• Montse Feu recovers and examines the literary history of the Spanish Civil War exile in the United States, US Hispanic periodicals, and migration and exile literature at large. She is the author of Correspondencia personal y política de un anarcosindicalista exiliado: Jesús González Malo (1943-1965) (Universidad de Cantabria, 2016) and Fighting Fascist Spain: Worker Protest from the Printing Press (University of Illinois Press, 2020). She is co-editor of Writing Revolution: Hispanic Anarchism in the United States (University of Illinois Press, 2019).

• Spencer Beswick is a PhD candidate at Cornell University studying the history of anarchism and the left. A chapter he wrote based on the material for this presentation will be featured in a forthcoming book series on anarchism and punk published by Active Distribution. Spencer’s dissertation is tentatively titled “Punks, Panthers, and Feminists: American Anarchism in the Late Twentieth Century.”

Smashing Whiteness: Race, Class, and Punk Culture in the Love and Rage Revolutionary Anarchist Federation, 1989-98

I just submitted my chapter for this upcoming book series on anarchism and punk coming out from the UK radical publisher Active Distribution next year (distributed by AK Press in the US). I’m excited to get published in print for the first time! Here is the introduction to the chapter:

Love and Rage banner at a 1993 anti-fascist demonstration in Chattanooga, TN

“What is the most damage I can do, given my biography, abilities, and commitments, to the racial order and rule of capital?”-Love and Rage member Joel Olson

“Our biggest obstacle is that Love and Rage is still culturally very white […] Smashing this culture of whiteness is a major task in becoming the kind of truly inclusive organization we are committed to building” (Love and Rage, 1997, p. 3). Thus argues a 1997 editorial that sparked controversy in the newspaper of the Love and Rage Revolutionary Anarchist Federation. The editorial intervened in an ongoing debate: should the predominantly white federation attempt to become multi-racial or should it accept its whiteness and try to work in coalitions with people of color? These debates exposed the internal contradictions of Love and Rage (1989-98), which was the most significant American anarchist federation since the heyday of the Industrial Workers of the World in the early twentieth century. Love and Rage was embedded in the largely white punk world. Although punk had helped keep anarchism alive in the post-1960s counterrevolution, members worried that punk’s white subcultural affinities excluded people of color and thus held back the federation’s revolutionary potential. Yet despite its contradictions and shortcomings, Love and Rage transformed the discourse and practice of anti-racism in the US anarchist movement. Influenced by a new generation of Black anarchists, they advocated militant anti-racism and “race traitor” politics that sought to abolish whiteness in order to build revolution.

This chapter begins by situating Love and Rage within the history of race and anarchism in the United States. Despite a rich tradition of anti-authoritarianism among people of color, American anarchism is typically thought to be a largely white phenomenon. But in the 1980s, imprisoned ex-Black Panthers began to theorize a new form of Black Anarchism that reverberated through the anarchist world. Love and Rage drew on this tradition as well as the theorization of white skin privilege by the Sojourner Truth Organization (1969-86) to center whiteness as one of the major barriers to revolutionary politics. Given its focus on race, the federation was keenly aware of its own racial demographics. Co-founder Chris Day argued that the group’s social base was the newly “reproletarianized” children of the white middle class who came to anarchist politics through the punk scene. I employ political theorist AK Thompson’s notion of white middle class “ontological politics,” which explains how dissident youth sought a new way of being in the world, to analyze how punk culture provided new forms of life and politics for white reproles. The punk scene provided a refuge for young dissidents to live their anarchist politics.

Anarchist punks practiced a form of white race traitor politics: they sought to actively repudiate their privilege in order to break up the “white club” that upholds the US racial hierarchy. But the efficacy of these tactics is questionable, and I end by critically evaluating Love and Rage’s approach to anti-racism. Despite its commitment to anti-fascism and anti-racism, the group failed to adequately address the problems posed by its own whiteness and experienced great difficulty both recruiting and working in coalition with people of color. I argue that, aside from anti-fascist organizing against white supremacists, the federation’s punk-influenced ontological politics largely favored individual, performative rejection of white privilege rather than collective political action. This undermined Love and Rage’s efforts to build multi-racial revolutionary dual power beyond the boundaries of punk subculture. I end by identifying lessons that anarchists, punks, and anti-racists can draw from the federation’s history.

“We’re Pro-Choice and We Riot”: Anarcha-Feminists Fight Operation Rescue

Anarchist contingent at the “March on Washington for Reproductive Freedom” (Love and Rage, 1989)

In the 1980s, the Christian Right waged war on abortion. When President Reagan failed to outlaw it, anti-abortion activists in Operation Rescue (founded in 1985) took to the streets to physically shut down abortion clinics. Using the slogan “if you believe abortion is murder, act like it’s murder,” they even defended far-right activists who firebombed clinics and killed abortion providers.

Operation Rescue was met by a new generation of anarcha-feminists across the country who drew on an evolving repertoire of anarchist tactics to defeat them. They confronted anti-abortion activists in the streets as part of their broader fight against patriarchy, capitalism, and the state in the late twentieth century. Instead of symbolic protest, anarcha-feminists directly confronted Operation Rescue in order to defend abortion and women’s autonomy from both the far right and the state itself. Anarchist interventions in reproductive justice struggles helped revitalize a feminist movement that had fought a decade of rearguard battles against the neoliberal Reagan counterrevolution.

Militant abortion defense became a key element of late twentieth century anarchist feminism. Anarchists announced their presence at the 1989 March on Washington for Reproductive Freedom with a banner reading “We’re Pro-Choice and We Riot!” This slogan is a far cry from the mainstream feminist emphasis on voting and other legal strategies. This demonstrates the anarchist commitment to both women’s autonomy and militant direct action. In New York City, a group affiliated with the anarchist organization Love and Rage (1989-98) used black bloc tactics to defend an abortion clinic from Operation Rescue in 1990. Dressed in all black to preserve anonymity, two dozen helmeted anarchists linked arms alongside members of Women’s Health Action and Mobilization (WHAM!) and AIDS activists in ACT UP to prevent Operation Rescue from disrupting the clinic.

Several years later, Operation Rescue attempted to host a summer training camp in Minneapolis in 1993. The anarcho-punk Profane Existence collective set the tone for the local response when they vowed in a widely distributed poster that if Operation Rescue came to town, anarchists would “lock [them] in a church and burn the fucker down.” While things did not go quite this far, anarchists physically confronted Operation Rescue, blocked them in their church, disrupted their meetings, vandalized their materials, protected clinics from their attacks, and generally made them unwelcome. Although some liberals opposed these tactics, anarchists and other militants handed Operation Rescue a major defeat and ran them out of town.

Reflecting on the experience, an anarchist named Liza wrote in an article titled “Minnesota Not Nice to Operation Rescue,” that “it seems like no matter how hard activists fight, we rarely win. Except this time we were victorious. We fought against these fascists […] We saw the demise of Operation Rescue in the Twin Cities, partly due to our unprecedented aggressiveness and opposition, and partly because their movement is losing, big time.” Operation Rescue soon suffered a split and major demobilization, in part due to legal action taken by President Bill Clinton’s administration against anti-abortion militants. But before this, they were defeated in the streets by anarcha-feminists who took matters into their own hands. Direct action proved critical to defending reproductive freedom.

Although grounded in the 1970s Women’s Liberation Movement, this younger generation of revolutionary feminists who confronted Operation Rescue was also inspired by the group Anti-Racist Action, who fought fascists in the streets, as well as squatters in Western Europe Autonome groups who began using black bloc tactics in the 1980s. Anarchists introduced these radical street tactics to the feminist movement and proved their efficacy in the fight against anti-abortion activists. Militant confrontation of Operation Rescue was a turning point in the development of a new anarchist feminism: feminists went on the attack in order to defend women’s autonomy and build a new world. In their uncompromising struggle for reproductive freedom, anarchists offered a new vision of revolutionary feminism.

Poster distributed in Minneapolis by anarchists in preparation for an Operation Rescue “summer training camp” (Profane Existence, 1993)

Note: I wrote this short text for an online exhibit on the 1980s. It is connected to an article I am writing on anarcha-feminism in the late twentieth century, primarily in Love and Rage.

Primary Sources:

Kraker, Jan. “Anarchists Confront Operation Rescue.” Love and Rage, Vol. 1, No. 5 (August 1990), 3.

Lib, Laura. “An Introduction to Anarcha-Feminism.” Love and Rage, Vol. 2, No. 3 (March 1991), 6.

Liza. “Minnesota Not Nice to Operation Rescue.” Love and Rage, Vol. 4, No. 4 (September 1993), 1, 3, 19.

Love and Rage New York Local. “Member Handbook.” (August 1997).

“Run ‘Em Out of Town: Operation Rescue Are Coming, But Pro-Choice Radicals Are Grinding Our Axes.” Profane Existence, No. 19-20 (Summer 1993), 4.

Secondary Sources:

Carroll, Tamar W. Mobilizing New York: AIDS, Antipoverty, and Feminist Activism. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2015.

Hadley, Janet. Abortion: Between Freedom and Necessity. London: Virago Press, 1996.

Martin, Bradford. The Other Eighties: A Secret History of America in the Age of Reagan. New York: Hill & Wang, 2012.

Tanenbaum, Julia. “To Destroy Domination in All Forms: Anarcha-Feminist Theory, Organization, and Action, 1970-1978.” Perspectives on Anarchist Theory N. 29 (2016), 13-32.

Ziegler, Mary. After Roe: The Lost History of the Abortion Debate. Cambridge (MA): Harvard University Press, 2015.

Willem Van Spronsen and Histories of Resistance

A year ago today, 69-year-old anarchist Willem Van Spronsen attacked an ICE facility in Washington state. He attempted to sabotage the buses the facility would use to transport people to concentration camps. For this, he was shot and killed by the police. We should remember him, tell stories of him, and draw inspiration from his sacrifice. We need to believe in the possibility of collectively organizing and acting to stop the atrocities that the US capitalist state commits.

Last summer, a presenter at a critical theory workshop I attended outlined his conception of “counterhistory.” He argued that counterhistory has two main components: 1) Identifying and dismantling the dominant historical imaginary and 2) Reconfiguring our methodological tools for understanding how history operates. He primarily writes counterhistories focused on the operations of power and what he calls the military-academic-industrial complex. I agree with this, but I think he missed a crucial third step.

I am convinced that we must complement these two components of counterhistory with a third: telling histories of resistance, struggle, and the possibility of building alternative worlds. These histories inspire action today, instill the belief that resistance and alternatives are possible in the face of a history of oppression and loss, and give us practical lessons for how to fight most effectively. Willem Van Spronsen was guided by this conception of history.

Van Spronsen had a historical understanding of the dangers of our present times and the need to fight back against the rise of fascism. In his final note before attempting to sabotage the ICE buses, he says that: “when I was a boy, in post war Holland, later France, my head was filled with stories of the rise of fascism in the 30s. I promised myself that I would not be one of those who stands by as neighbors are torn from their homes and imprisoned for somehow being perceived as lesser. You don’t have to burn the motherfucker down, but are you just going to stand by?”

History provides both a caution of the dangers of fascism as well as inspiration for struggle. Willem identified himself in a line of struggle going back to John Brown’s attempt to start an insurrection to end slavery. This historical understanding of the possibility and duty of individuals to act against violent oppression seems instrumental to his ability to make the ultimate sacrifice in the fight for freedom and justice today. As he said, “I follow three teachers: Don Pritts, my spiritual guide, ‘love without action is just a word.’ John Brown, my moral guide, ‘what is needed is action!’ Emma Goldman, my political guide, ‘if I can’t dance, I don’t want to be in your revolution.’”

Spronsen follows with: “I’m a head in the clouds dreamer, I believe in love and redemption. I believe we’re going to win. I’m joyfully revolutionary.” And he ends with “keep the faith! All power to the people! Bella ciao.”

Willem Van Spronsen, presente!