Reflections

by

Elections: The house always wins

“No to the political parties’ electoral process.”

Those to the left of the varied strains of normative fascism that pass for mainstream political discourse in the United States nowadays have likely been inundated with celebratory messages and reports of Zohran Mamdani’s victory in the New York City mayoral elections yesterday. By all accounts, today the air is a little fresher as we are all lifted up by the winds of change because around one million people in a corner of what is called the U.S. voted for a “democratic socialist,” whatever that means anymore. Faith in democracy and electoral politics abound as the “right” or “good” candidate won this time. Mamdani is the exception that proves the rule that the system works. Nagging doubts about the validity of representative democracy as a means to order our social and political lives have been put to rest. Hope has been restored. But there is a thin line between hope and naivety. I propose the following be considered alongside any rejoicing.

Nobody won. There are almost 4.7 million “active registered voters” in NYC out of a population of 8.48 million. Only two million or so people voted. Meaning the vast majority of New Yorkers, including registered voters, did not vote. As in every election, most people couldn’t be bothered to engage in the charade of casting a vote. Mamdani didn’t win. Nobody won. Nobody represents us. Nobody should be in office.

Mamdani’s victory isn’t news. He was the Democratic candidate in a Democratic city running an iteration of “The Rent is Too Damn High” campaign in a place where rent costs an average of $4,000 per month. It would be nonsensical for him not to win when almost two-thirds of registered NYC voters are Democrats. (Yes, yes, I get it, the party  and media machines were against him.) The heavens haven’t opened; politics have just played out as politics play out. Despite the overwhelming odds in his favor, Mamdani only won 50% of the vote. Andrew Cuomo, whose own shadow wouldn’t even vote for him, still managed to get more than 850,000 votes. This wasn’t a runaway victory or a landslide endorsement of democratic socialism or, even less, a statement on U.S. foreign policy. It was a Democrat winning where the Democrat always wins.

Continue reading →
by

Conversation with Non Serviam Media

Last month, I had the opportunity to chat with Lucy with the Non Serviam Media team about a variety of topics, from organizing, anarchism, academia, and the importance of an anti-colonial framework in doing political work. If you’re interested in hearing me prattle on for 90 minutes or so, here’s your opportunity! It can be listened to below or wherever you listen to your podcasts.

by

In Memory of Carolina Saldaña

En español a continuación.

On August 1, I was looking for resources to share about Black August and naturally thought of Carolina. She’d written a book on it in Spanish, after all. For many years, she had organized events in Mexico commemorating Black August, seeking to lift up the legacy and ongoing struggle of the Black liberation movement and its political prisoners and prisoners of war. While I didn’t end up using any of her work that day in what I shared, remembering her called forth a wave of fond recollections. I made a mental note to reach out to her, as we hadn’t been in touch in a couple of years. Sadly, a few hours later, I heard from compas in Mexico that she passed away that morning.

Common adjectives that have been used to remember Carolina Saldaña include relentless, tireless, and unceasing. They are all accurate and true. Carolina was truly a force, guided by a commitment and passion for solidarity and freedom that compelled her work over the years that I had the honor to know her. We first connected in 2008, when I began working with the now-defunct website El Enemigo Común. Carolina was already involved – unsurprisingly – as she seemed to be active with most independent media projects in Mexico. Our communication originated over email until we had the opportunity to meet in person a couple of years later during one of my trips to Mexico.

Continue reading →
by

Accountable to history

Photo by Al Benoit on Unsplash

When I was very young, I used to believe that my parents were omniscient and infallible. They knew everything and were never wrong. As I aged, I of course realized the faults of my assumptions. Being a parent now myself, I especially realize how absurd that notion was. We make it up as we go along, doing the best we can with the information we have at hand. Mistakes are part of the practice.

Part of my younger beliefs was that my parents were responsible for or had control over worldly developments. They were adults, they had agency that I did not. I am sure there is some psychological term for this, but, likely for the sake of simplicity, I subordinated systems of authority and power into the hands of those I was most familiar with who also had such seemingly tremendous power and authority – my parents.

Again, this belief waned as I grew, but it became replaced by a perhaps more right-sized view of accountability and action in the world. Rather than holding the expectation that my parents could control everything, I was interested in what they contributed to change and making the world a better place, broadly speaking. As my worldview became explicitly infused with politics during my adolescence and its accompanying arrogance, I more specifically wanted to know what they did that was in accord with my view of what they should have done.

Continue reading →
by

Fighting against forgetting

At the invitation of Mirtha Pérez, the mother of Nadia Vera, I prepared this short piece on grief and collective memory ten years after the Narvarte murders. It was originally published in Spanish on Memorial Narvarte.

I did not know Alejandra, Mile, Nadia, Rubén or Yesenia. I only learned of their existence after their deaths. It is a double loss to realize the lives one might have encountered had they not been stolen so abruptly and so cruelly. Despite not knowing them in life, I have had the honor to participate in a very small way in trying to maintain their memories and presences over the past ten years.

It began when I read Mirtha’s letter-poem to her daughter, Nadia, marking one year after her murder. Working with independent media outlets in what is called the United States, I translated her letter, published it online, and shared it among friends, comrades, and on social media. As a result, a dear compa who was editing an anthology on collective grief and mourning asked to include the translation in the volume, along with a brief introduction written by me.

Continue reading →
by

Zines for these times

Photos courtesy of Cindy Barukh Milstein

9/13/25 Update: Another zine from Cindy has been published that also includes a contribution by me. Check out The Heart is a Muscle: 19 Embodiments of Antifascist Grief here.

How to make sense of this moment, survive and resist in this moment, and hold ourselves and one another up during this moment are all important and pressing concerns to many of us. Over the past several months, dear comrade Cindy Barukh Milstein (Mastodon; Instagram) has been editing and crafting zine-based interventions that speak directly to those matters.

At their kind invitation, I have had the honor of submitting short pieces to two of them. Rather than excising my own words from their context and placing them alone here, I wanted to encourage those who are interested to explore the two zines – and others! – in their entirety.

The first is Anarchist Compass: 29 Offerings for Navigating Christofascism. As Cindy writes, this zine is “an act of love and solidarity. It is intended for everyone who sees themselves on the side of antifascism, including those who’ve newly had their eyes opened. It’s especially dedicated to those who, in myriad ways, rebelliously, collectively, and bravely care for each other.”

The second is Everyday Antifascism: 14 Ways that Solidarity Keeps Us Safer. Again, Cindy states, “This zine does not offer sugarcoated ‘hope’ to somehow smooth over these utterly distasteful times. Yet I believe strongly in cracks in the edifice of hierarchical power and the promise they hold, and that there are always cracks even under the worst conditions. This zine, then, is a small sampler of acts of solidarity that just might keep us safer under fascism in order to get more of us to the other side, toward a world without fascism.”

While you’re clicking on links, here are two more with zines that Cindy has curated recently: Don’t Just Do Nothing: 20 Things You Can Do to Counter Fascism and Ritual as Resistance: 18 Stories of Defending the Sacred.

Enjoy! And remember to share!

by

Afropessimism and Palestinian Liberation: An Essay

In October 2023, at the beginning of an ever-escalating genocide against the Palestinian population of Gaza, I wrote some rambling, rather perfunctory, thoughts on Afropessimism and Palestinian Liberation. I have since attempted to elaborate my thinking into a more structured argument, the result of which is the below essay. Declined for publication by several academic journals, I have decided to post it here, unsure of its merits but hoping amidst the words there may be a useful contribution to the conceptualizations of our collective struggles for liberation and the centrality of the Palestinian cause. I welcome feedback, critical or otherwise. As it is a lengthy essay, I have also made it available as a PDF.

Abstract: This paper draws upon Black feminist theory and Afropessimism to interrogate Palestinian demands for liberation. In doing so, it figures Zionism as a project of modernity and evaluates its epistemology through Sylvia Wynter’s formulation of the “genre of Man.” Subsequently, it picks up Afropessimism’s extension of Wynter’s thought to critique the ontology of the Human. As Zionism, a modern endeavor, knows itself through the othering of Palestinians, an Afropessimistic reading of Palestinian demands is examined. It is argued that Palestinian liberation is an impossibility in the current ordering of knowledge and being, demanding the end of the Human and this world.

In the face of genocide, the question of Palestinian liberation has never been more salient. Yet what liberation looks like and how to obtain it is a matter of debate. Formations such as the Palestine Liberation Organization and the Palestinian National Authority have accepted a two-state solution framework that would see a State of Palestine established alongside the State of Israel. Others have called for one binational state, where Israelis and Palestinians would live side by side under a secular, democratic government.[1] For its part, Palestinian civil society has focused less on a specific solution and more on the implementation of rights guaranteed under international law. This approach can be seen in the 2005 call for Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions against Israel, which demands an end to the Israeli occupation of Palestinian territory, equal rights for Palestinian citizens of Israel, and the right to return for Palestinian refugees.[2] In a similar manner, scholars such as Rashid Khalidi have called for a focus on the inequality present in the Zionist project, proposing that a just solution in Palestine should be premised on equal rights for all inhabitants of the region: “Absolute equality of human, personal, civil, political, and national rights must be enshrined in whatever future scheme is ultimately accepted by the two societies. This is a high-sounding recommendation, but nothing else will address the core of the problem, nor will it be sustainable and lasting.”[3]

On the surface, appeals to equality and international law hold a certain resonance. They are aspirational yet practical, fitting within the current discourse regarding the fair and just organization of societies. At the same time, such approaches are hindered by unquestioned assumptions regarding the origins and intentions of constructs such as equality and international law, as well as the possibility of obtaining true or absolute justice within the current world paradigm. This paper argues that the present ontological and epistemological foundations of human being in this world – on which claims to equality or international law are based – impede the realization of Palestinian liberation. It posits that Palestinian freedom necessitates the creation of new worlds and, rather than the legislating of equality, the jettisoning of constructs such as modernity and the Human.

To make its case, this paper will place questions of Palestinian liberation into conversation with Black feminist thought and Afropessimism. It will first demonstrate the Zionist project to be one firmly rooted in modernity and loyalty to whiteness. Subsequently, it will draw upon the critiques of modernity formulated by Black feminist theorists, primarily Sylvia Wynter, arriving at a problematization of Man, or the current supremacy of the white, Western bourgeois male. Afropessimism will extend Wynter’s judgment of Man to encompass that of the Human, showing that Humanity itself is contingent upon anti-Blackness. Having troubled the construct of the Human, this paper will apply an Afropessimistic reading to Palestinian liberation, asking if total freedom means destruction of the Human, and Palestinians have been rendered as not-Human by Zionism, how can Afropessimism inform Palestinian liberation? I argue that Afropessimism not only assists in descriptively generating a theoretical reading of the Palestinian plight as the anti-modern Other, but also can prescriptively aid in conceptualizing resistance. My culminating argument, as mentioned above and built off the frameworks offered by Afropessimism and the Black feminist theory from which it emerged, is that true Palestinian liberation necessitates the end of modernity, the Human, and therefore, this world.

Continue reading →
by

Questions

Photo by Ilkka Kärkkäinen on Unsplash

“I thought about how the world can be anything and how sad it is that it’s this.”
– Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah, Chain-Gang All-Stars

When they are intentionally starving children in Gaza, what more does one need to know about Zionism? What conversations can be had? What legitimate disagreements can there be? Can there be a good-faith defense of genocide?

When genocide is livestreamed to every electronic device daily for 563 days (and counting), and it is still permitted to continue – not only permitted, but abetted and supported – what value is this world, its systems, its laws, its governments, its justice?

What does it mean when Democrats and Republicans can agree on nothing except for their shared desire for more dead Palestinians? What could be done with 17.9 billion dollars other than wholesale slaughter? What is the significance of bipartisan support for genocide facilitating the ascension of fascism in the last election? Does this nation-state, genocidal in its foundation and still committed to genocide 249 years later, merit anything other than opprobrium?

As a father, what do more than 17,400 dead children mean to me? When I look into my two-year-old’s eyes, what sense am I to make of the incomprehensible? Is there anything I would not do to keep him safe? Is there nothing I might not do to those who intentionally caused him harm? Does any parent feel differently? Is existence capacious enough for the pain of so many losses? Do we want it to be?

What does it mean when to be Palestinian means one’s life is disposable? What does it mean when to say “Palestine” means to be kidnapped, jailed, deported? What sense can be made of this world’s ontological hatred of the Palestinian? If its teleological zenith is genocide and fascism, is there anything worth salvaging? Why should we be loyal to that which would destroy us? Should we not seek to destroy it, instead?

What does it mean that genocide is but a symptom and the world is the sickness?

What if the answers did not scare us but guided us?

by

An Anarchist in AA

The following was written in December of last year for inclusion in the recently released zine, “Anarchist Experiences in and Explorations of Alternatives to Twelve-Step Programs,” published by Scrappy Capy Distro. It’s a great collection of texts, be sure to check it out.

My name is Scott, and I’m an alcoholic. My sobriety date is December 17, 2023. I have a sponsor and have worked the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. I now take others through the steps. I go to three to four meetings a week. I have a conception of and relationship with a power greater than myself that has been the cornerstone to my recovery. I’m also an anarchist.

I’ve been battling alcoholism and addiction for a while now. The first time I realized I could not stop drinking even though I wanted to, even when my job, health, and relationships depended on it, was in 2013. Back then I was militantly atheist and, frankly, judgmental and arrogant. Some days I still am. I’m a work in progress. The first person to offer to take me to an AA meeting was a conservative older woman wearing a t-shirt with the US flag on it. I thought she couldn’t possibly have access to a solution that would work for me. A few months later, still unable to stop drinking, I ended up in treatment, where we had to attend AA meetings.

Continue reading →
by

Gaza Solidarity Encampments on Occupied Land

The above map and following essay are from a project produced for a course I took last semester. As it may be of some relevance or utility, I have chosen to post it here. As always, thoughts, critiques, and feedback is welcomed.

The map accompanying this essay attempts to situate via multiple data points the location of Gaza Solidarity Encampments installed on the campuses of colleges and universities during April and May 2024 in what is demarcated as Los Angeles County. In particular, it seeks to raise the question of the implications of the taking of space in solidarity with an Indigenous struggle for liberation in Palestine on land that itself was ethnically cleansed and genocided of most of its Indigenous inhabitants. To do so, it first notes the identities and territories of the original populations of what is now Los Angeles County: the Tongva, Kizh, and Chumash peoples. Upon that is layered the colonial infrastructure and place designations to orient the gaze from a settler lens with the intention of inspiring reflection on the imposition of settler colonialism and belonging in space. If the colonial place names were absent, would the viewer’s familiarity with the area change? Finally, using tent icons, the map indicates the approximate location of the five Gaza Solidarity Encampments in the area that were erected in April and May 2024, along with the identification of the college or university, the name given to the encampment by those involved, and the Indigenous lands upon which the encampment was placed. The intention of the map is not to condemn nor to celebrate, but to problematize the conception of space in the context of resistance and to encourage the incorporation of a decolonial perspective in the work of protest.

Continue reading →