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Title: What is Black Anarchism? Author: Saint Andrew Date: 2021 Language: en Topics: Black anarchism, Black feminism, Black Panther Party, anarkata, APOC, Breadtube Source: Author Script from YouTube Video: https://youtu.be/tyNKTY97oxw
I want us to be free. Despite the denial of our humanity, we will be
free. Despite the constant war waged against us, we will be free.
Despite the relentless genocide against our people, across the world, we
will be free. Despite. Despite. Despite. We have lived in defiance of
the violence of capitalism and the State. This is our intergenerational
legacy. Undeterred. It is my aim to carry the torch to the finish line.
I want us to explore the less well-known aspects and lessons of our
history. The hidden subversives and unseen uprisings that constitute an
unknown revolutionary tradition. Itâs time we threw off the burdens of
the ideologies and systems built in opposition to our freedom. Itâs time
we recognize the history of the Black anarchics and understand what
Black Anarchism truly is.
Africa. The Motherland. The Cradle of Humanity. The home we were stolen
from. Prior to the violence of the Transatlantic Slave Trade, Africa
hosted a variety of nations, all with their own unique outlooks on the
world and means of organizing society. There were many precolonial
kingdoms and states that constituted Africa: Ghana. Mali. Songhai.
Aksum. Zimbabwe. Kongo. Besides those and other complex civilizations,
we often glaze over the societies weâve been taught to view as
primitive. But there are lessons these societies can teach us.
Nomadic, gatherer-hunter societies for instance, have shunned wealth as
a burden. And not only a burden, but also a potential source of rupture
to an otherwise egalitarian existence. Real wealth is acquired not
through want and property, but through the free time to enjoy leisure
and creativity. Itâs what cultural anthropologist Marshall Sahlins
called âoriginal affluenceâ: having enough of whatever is required to
satisfy consumption needs, and plenty of free time to enjoy life. Take
for instance, the Ju/wasi people, one of the San ethnic groups of South
Africa. They, like other nomadic groups, have been pushed to the
fringes, away from the plentiful environments they once enjoyed.
Nevertheless, theyâve enjoyed a life without hierarchy, private
property, or division of labour, for hundreds of years. Work and play
are practically synonymous, and theyâre free to enjoy their lives
without devotion to toil.
Iâm not trying to argue that we return to nomadic life, by the way.
Although the introduction of farming did bring surplus, inequality,
population density, new diseases, and war, a pattern that has repeated
itself across the world, nomadic life was not perfect, letâs not
romanticize. They definitely suffered high rates of infant mortality and
there were issues of infectious disease, periods of hunger, and the
pressure of conformity. Still, we need to have a clearer picture of our
history. I want us to understand that peaceful, sustainable living is
not antithetical to human nature.
Nor is it exclusive to nomads. Egalitarian, communal societies have also
been found amongst settled peoples in Africa too, some numbering in the
millions, yet enjoying direct democracy, consensus, and gift economies.
Free of the harsh social stratifications we know all too well, with all
enjoying equal access to land and other elements of production, so that
everyoneâs needs were met. While there was an element of ageism, as
elders were seen as possessors of wisdom and justice, generally their
position was not one of superiority or imposition, but of common
consensus. They shared work with the rest of the community and received
more or less the same share as everyone else.
While feudalism has developed out of some of these societies, many have
maintained their commitment to non-authoritarian organization, proving
that such societies are not only possible, but have existed on Africa
and other continents for much longer than the recent phenomenon of
tyranny, the state, and capitalism.
Anarchism is a political philosophy and movement of movements that arose
in 19^(th) century Europe, though it has a precedent that dates as far
back as the rise of hierarchy itself, across the world. It has been
frequently, and sometimes purposefully, misunderstood and misrepresented
by people of all corners of the political spectrum, but allow me to
clarify. Anarchism aims to create a society without political, economic
or social hierarchies. Historically, the focus of anarchism was as my
favourite non-Mario Italian Errico Malatesta described: the abolition of
capitalism and government. However, as anarchism has developed over the
past century, anarchists have come to recognize the co-equal importance
of struggle against patriarchy, white supremacy, and other systems of
domination as well. Anarchists oppose all forms of domination and
exploitation.
Iâve linked a hefty resource on anarchism in the description, but it
really is simple. Anarchism is an expression of our innate capacity to
organize ourselves and run society without rulers. It is a recognition
that the oppressed peoples of this world must become conscious of our
collective power, defend our immediate interests, and fight to
revolutionize society as a whole, so that we can prefigure a world fit
for human beings to live in, fully.
Errico Malatesta, Emma Goldman, Peter Kropotkin, Mikhail Bakunin, and
Alexander Berkman are very well known for their contributions to
anarchist theory. But even in the early years, Black folks have been
involved in the anarchist movement. Ben Fletcher and the other Black
workers and organizers of the Industrial Workers of the World, which was
co-founded by anarchist and labour organizer Lucy Parsons in the early
20^(th) century. Or who could forget the smooth oration and militant
struggle of the notorious early 20^(th) century Brazilian anarchist,
Domingos Passos, and the many others who struggled for freedom in the
Rio de Janeiro Workersâ Federation? And of course, letâs not neglect the
90 African Americans, including this man, who went with the Lincoln
Brigade to fight fascists alongside anarchists during the Spanish Civil
War. However, Black Anarchism, as we understand it today, would not
develop until much later.
Black Anarchism is a term that has been applied to a very loose grouping
of diverse perspectives. There are many Black Anarchisms in truth.
Perhaps a better umbrella term would be Black Anarchic Radicals, or BARs
for short, as coined by the Afrofuturist Abolitionists of the Americas.
BAR would be inclusive of Black Anarchists, New Afrikan Anarchists,
Quilombists, Anarkatas, Anarchist Panthers, Black Autonomists, African
Anarchists, and others. For now though, Iâll keep using Black Anarchism
to refer to the broader movement. Where did it come from?
The Black Power movement of the late 20^(th) century arose with the
awareness of the shortcomings of mainstream liberal civil rights
movements, and especially their emphasis on integration into the
capitalist US state. Ojore Lutalo, a New Afrikan anarchist, would
describe both the modern and historic civil rights movement as âcorruptâ
and âopportunistâ, with leaders âopen for a priceâ and seeking a place
at the table. Instead, Black Power groups like the Black Panther Party,
the Republic of New Afrika, Revolutionary Action Movement, League of
Revolutionary Black Workers, and the Black Liberation Army, would uphold
Revolutionary Black nationalism, emphasizing the need for economic,
political, and cultural autonomy and understanding that racial
inequality and domination were built into the system of White supremacy
and capitalism. Many of these groups would also promote armed struggle,
arguing that violence was necessary for self defense and social change.
An intersectional analysis of race, class, gender, and state domination
would also arise in the Black Power movement, especially thanks to the
efforts of Black feminists, and would help illuminate the divergent
interests among Black people that would need to be accounted for. They
came to recognize the close interplay between a white supremacist system
intent on destroying and dominating Black people, an exploitative
capitalist economic system that drained Black communities of labor and
wealth, a patriarchal system that pervaded both Black movements and the
wider society, and a settler colonial government intent upon political
suppression.
So, what happened? The US government had no interest in tolerating the
assertive demands of the Black freedom struggle, and deployed both local
police forces and the FBI to destroy these movements. The full weight of
the State was upon them. As the Black Panther Party disintegrated under
state assault, many of its members were either killed, exiled, absorbed,
or imprisoned. Many former Panthers would later get involved with
cultural nationalism, community organizing, the Revolutionary Communist
Party, or the Democratic Party. But not all of them.
Within the movement itself, there were divisions that were not resolved.
Some of the incarcerated rank-and-file Panthers would express discomfort
with the organizational structure of the Party. Their geographic and
spatial distance from outside movements while in prison allowed them
time to reflect on previous strategies, and would lead them to develop
Black Anarchisms. But before I dive into their distinct journeys,
visions, focuses, and perspectives, what were some of their criticisms
of the Panthers?
Lorenzo Komâboa Ervin believed that â[the Party] partially failed
because of the authoritarian leadership style of Huey P. Newton, Bobby
Seale and others on the Central Committee [âŠ] Many errors were made
because the national leadership was so divorced from the chapters in
cities all over the country, and therefore engaged in âcommandismâ or
forced work dictated by leaders [...] There was not a lot of inner-party
democracy, and when contradictions came up, it was the leaders who
decided on their resolution, not the members.â Kuwasi Balagoon
characterized the Party as a âhierarchy that had undeserved pretensions
of grandeurâ and â turned away from its purposes of liberation of the
Black colony to fundraising.â
Ashanti Alston realized that âthere was a problem with [his] love for
people like Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, and Eldridge Cleaver and the
fact that he had put them on a pedestal.â Ollie A. Johnson III, while
never a member of the Panthers, published a hefty critique of the
internal issues with the Panther Party in Chapter Sixteen of Charles E.
Jonesâ book The Black Panther Party Reconsidered. Iâve linked it below.
There he argues that the Party changed from a large, decentralized,
revolutionary organization to a small, highly centralized, reformist
group. And he laments the recurrence of âGreat Menâ gaining too much
power in revolutionary movements.
The story of Black Anarchisms really begins with the critiques of the
incarcerated radicals which Iâve decided to dub the Post-Panther milieu:
Lorenzo Komâboa Ervin, Kuwasi Balagoon, and Ashanti Alston. As well as
the non-Panthers who were nonetheless influential: Ojore Lutalo and
Martin Sostre.
Lorenzo Komâboa Ervin joined the Panthers in 1967 after being involved
with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. In 1969, while on
the run for attempting to kill a Ku Klux Klan member, he hijacked a
plane and fled to Cuba. But instead of lending support, the Cuban
authorities jailed him, then deported him to Czechoslovakia. He then
escaped to East Germany before being captured, smuggled into Berlin,
tortured for a week, and brought back to the States to be drugged
through his trial and handed two life sentences by an all-white jury in
a redneck town.
While in those so-called socialist countries, he became disillusioned
with what was clearly a dictatorship, not some âdictatorship of the
proletariat.â And while in prison, although involved in prison
struggles, he took time to reflect on his life and sought out an
alternative method to Black revolution. Around 1973, he began receiving
Anarchist literature, became inspired by Peter Kropotkin, and eventually
became a Black Anarchist. His case was adopted by the Anarchist Black
Cross and a Dutch Anarchist group called Help A Prisoner Oppose Torture
Organizing Committee. They coordinated an international campaign
petitioning for his release.
Of course, he took issue with middle class hyperindividualism of many
white American anarchists at the time, but he still worked with
anarchists around the world who continued to support him and write to
him while in prison. He began writing Anarchism and the Black Revolution
and published it in 1979. It remains one of the best and most widely
read works on anarchism today. Linked below. His prison writings
garnered him a following in Europe, Africa, and among Australian
Aboriginals. He was finally released nearly 15 years after his sentence,
in 1983.
In The Black Revolution, Ervin emphasized that Anarchism is âthe most
democratic, effective, and radical way to obtain our freedom, but that
we must be free to design our own movements, whether it is understood or
âapprovedâ by North American Anarchists or not. We must fight for our
freedom, no one else can free us, but they can help us.â He firmly
believed that Black people, and other people of colour, would constitute
the backbone of the American Anarchist movement of the future. He also
takes a principled stance against the world capitalist system, white
supremacy, imperialism, colonial oppression, patriarchy, queerphobia,
and the state, including state âcommunismâ, recognizing that government
is one of the worst forms of modem oppression. His emphasis on
intersectionality would play a strong role in the shift away from
class-exclusive analysis in the American Anarchist movement. More on
that shift later. He remains active today, and records a podcast called
Black Autonomy with his wife and fellow former Panther JoNina. Remember
his story.
Ervin was actually first introduced to anarchism when he connected with
the radical prison abolitionist and anarchist Martin Sostre in 1969
while in prison. Sostre was never a Panther. He grew up in Harlem during
the Great Depression. He briefly joined the army, but was dishonourably
discharged because of his run-ins with the law. Eventually, he was
thrown into prison for trumped-up drug charges in 1952. At first, he
turned to the Nation of Islam, and after being thrown into solitary for
expressing his beliefs, he became a jailhouse lawyer. He was released in
1964 and opened a bookstore that sold radical books on black nationalism
and communism, in Buffalo, New York. His bookstore would become a place
where he cultivated resistance for an entire community. Eventually, he
parted with the Nation of Islam.
In that time, Black uprisings were common across the States. When revolt
hit Buffalo, Sostre was there doing the work he knew best: teaching,
distributing radical literature, and providing context to the situation
at hand. Eventually, the authorities would arrest him, gag him in court,
and throw him into prison again. While in prison, he continued to
educate himself and other prisoners, and almost single-handedly won
democratic rights for prisoners to receive and read revolutionary
literature, write books, worship alternative religious faiths, to not be
held indefinitely in solitary confinement, and to obtain legal rights to
have access to legal rights at disciplinary proceedings.
In a 1967-letter from prison, Sostre wrote that âI will never submit.
The employment of the massive coercive power of the state is not enough
to make me give up; I am like a Viet Cong â a Black Viet Cong.â At some
point, Sostre was introduced to anarchism. He may have been the first
Black Anarchist of the post-1960s wave. Ervin wrote about Sostreâs
anarchist lessons in jail: âHe bounced a new word on me: âAnarchist
Socialism.â I had no idea what he was talking about at the time ⊠He
explained to me about âself-governing socialism,â which he described as
free of state bureaucracy, any kind of party or leader dictatorship.
Almost every day he regaled me about âdirect democracy,â
âcommunitarianism,â âradical autonomy,â âgeneral assemblies,â and other
stuff I knew nothing about. So I just listened for hours as he schooled
me.â
Eventually, the witness that got Sostre locked up recanted, and he was
freed in 1971. He had only read pamphlets and sketches of Kropotkin and
Bakunin, but didnât have access to any books on anarchism at the time.
He did, however, extensively critique the Marxist-Leninist âparty-lineâ
and âwhole structureâ, which replaced ruling elites but did not further
human freedom.
Sostreâs life story and his contributions to the struggle have remained
largely unnoticed. Remember his story.
Kuwasi Balagoon joined the Panthers in New York in 1967. Prior to then,
he spent 3 years as a soldier in the US army, stationed in Europe, where
he experienced racism in Germany, but also exposure to Black people of
all backgrounds in London, moving him to embrace Afrocentrism. Back in
New York, Balagoon became active in rent strikes and other organizing
efforts. Not long after, he joined the Panthers. Notably, he was openly
bisexual, a reality that has often been erased. In 1969, he was arrested
and indicted in what became known as the Trial of the Panther 21. And
while most of the defendants were eventually released on bail, Balagoon
was sentenced to 23â29 years in jail.
Balagoon became disillusioned with the Panthers. He could see the
divisions between the West Coast and the East Coast Panthers more
clearly. He became a heavy critic of bureaucracy and the repressiveness
in Marxist-Leninism. He realized the Panthers had stopped being a party
concerned with the daily struggle of Black people in America and instead
one totally focused on defending its membership in court trials against
the state. Soon, he had embraced what he described as New Afrikan
Anarchism. Quote:
Of all ideologies, anarchy is the one that addresses liberty and
equalitarian relations in a realistic and ultimate fashion. It is
consistent with each individual having an opportunity to live a complete
and total life. With anarchy, the society as a whole not only maintains
itself at an equal expense to all, but progresses in a creative process
unhindered by any class, caste or party. This is because the goals of
anarchy donât include replacing one ruling class with another, neither
in the guise of a fairer boss or as a party.
Balagoon emphasized the importance of not only anti-Statism, but
specifically anti-imperialism. He spent some time criticizing the North
American anarchists who did not understand the deep structures of white
supremacy and the need for national liberation struggle. Former prison
mate David Gilbert would describe Balagoon as a free spirit in many
ways, often very creative and not one to boss people around. He had a
lot of faith in peopleâs ability to take charge of their own society.
You can read more about Balagoon, and read his writings, in Kuwasi
Balagoon: A Soliderâs Story. Unfortunately, he died in prison of
pneumocystis pneumonia, an AIDS-related illness, in 1986. Rest in power.
Remember his story.
Ojore Lutalo was never a member of the Black Liberation Army or the
Panthers, but he was involved in the struggle, as early as 1970. He and
BLA member Kojo Bomani Sababu were arrested after they attempted to rob
a bank to fund revolutionary projects, which ended in a shootout with
the police.
He was harassed, isolated, and faced false charges throughout his
incarceration in order to keep him from being paroled. However, upon
befriending Kuwasi Balagoon and being exposed to critiques of
Marxist-Leninism, he became a New Afrikan Anarchist in 1975. He would
spend time creating collages while in prison, but in 1986, unprovoked,
the prison moved him into the MCU, the sensory depriving Maximum Control
Unit, where prisoners move in shackles and guards carry clubs they call
ânigger beatersâ.
In 2005, still in prison, Lutalo was interviewed for a film entitled In
My Own Words where he spoke on everything from his own political
beliefs, to life in the MCU, to the difficulty of being a vegetarian
prisoner. In the film, he said that,
I just believe in the consensus process, I believe in the autonomous
process. I believe that people are intelligent enough to govern their
own lives and make their own decisions without somebody collecting
untold billions of dollars of taxes and telling you what should and
shouldnât be. Most organizations of the Left and the Right they want to
repress, they have power ambitions, they power hungry, money hungry. And
theyâll do anything to retain that particular power. They donât consult
with the lower class people, they make decisions for them and I feel
thatâs wrong. So thatâs why I became an anarchist.
More false charges were brought against him after that interview. Just a
year before his release from prison in 2009, he was denied release from
the MCU, specifically because the prison thought he might influence
other prisoners ideologically. Eventually though, he was released. And
in 2021, in an interview with MoMA PS1 curator Josephine Graf, Lutalo
continued to advocate for revolution. Read the full interview. Remember
his story.
Ashanti Alston joined the Panthers and the Black Liberation Army in
1971, but before then, heâd been attending Nation of Islam meetings. He
was imprisoned in 1974 for taking part in a robbery meant to raise funds
for the BLA. While in prison, a fellow Panther named Frankie Ziths would
first introduce Alston to anarchist texts. He was being sent a lot of
letters and literature that he dismissed at first, because he thought
anarchism was just about chaos. Eventually though, while in solitary, he
finally dug into anarchism, and was surprised to find analyses of
peoplesâ struggles, peoplesâ cultures, and peoplesâ organizational
formations.
But he wasnât seeing anything that touched on the struggles of Black
folks. There was a lot of emphasis on European struggles and European
writings by European figures. It didnât fully speak to him. He had to
seek out the anarchic practices of non-European societies, from the most
ancient to the most contemporary. He realized that all of us can
function in an anti-authoritarian society. He began to see that we
should not allow anyone to set themselves up as our leader or make
decisions for us. He began to realize that âI, as an individual, should
be respected, and that no one was important enough to do my thinking for
me.â
He realized that the anti-colonial struggles of his time and of the
past, whether in Angola, Guinea-Bissau, Mozambique, or Zimbabwe, still
failed. The people lost popular power, and the foreign oppressor was
replaced with a local oppressor. He became resistant to the influence
and intervention of so-called leaders, wanting instead for âpower to the
people where it stays with the people.â
He was released from prison in 1985 and became heavily involved in
organizing as a Black Anarchist. He published critiques of top down
organizing, explored the influence of childhood on our psychology, and,
although he saw the shortcomings of Black nationalism, he still saw it
as a force for unity and a direction for social change, with the
potential to be anti-State.
As for why he calls himself a Black Anarchist, he says that, âI think of
being Black not so much as an ethnic category but as an oppositional
force or touchstone for looking at situations differently. Black culture
has always been oppositional and is all about finding ways to creatively
resist oppression here, in the most racist country in the world.â
To Alston, anarchyâs insistence that you should never be stuck in old,
obsolete approaches and always try to find new ways of looking at
things, feeling, and organizing is important and inspiring. Heâs still
out here, still organizing, still part of the struggle. Remember his
story.
One of the first white majority anarchist organizations in the US to
discuss and prioritize the issue of race was the Love and Rage
Revolutionary Anarchist Federation in the 1990s. Lorenzo Komâboa Ervin
eventually joined the group, and Ashanti Alston wrote for their paper.
The organization would advocate for the abolition of whiteness. It had
seemed as though white anarchists were finally grappling with race, not
so?
Slow yuh roll. Black anarchists and their emphasis on racism was not
always accepted by white anarchists. Ervin was critical of the
anarcho-syndicalist union Industrial Workers of the World and the Love
and Rage Revolutionary Anarchist Federation, as they were resistant to
Ervinâs attempts to create autonomous groups for Black workers and other
workers of colour. He was chastised for advocating âseparatism.â Their
unwillingness to incorporate people of colour on their own terms,
condescension, pandering, and in some cases outright racism would
alienate Ervin and other anarchists of colour. Read about it in
âSpeaking of Anarchism, Racism, and Black Liberationâ by Ervin himself.
Linked below. Ervin also criticized groups like Anti-Racist Action,
because while they focused on opposing fascists, neo-Nazis, skinheads,
and the Klan, they neglected the struggle against systemic racism. Other
critics highlighted issues with their âanti-racist colour-blindness.â
Ernesto Aguilar criticized the lack of confrontation on internalized
racism. Quote: âIn essence, equal power is talked about, but many white
people arenât actually prepared to share it with the world majority. Why
should they? Giving up the intoxicating power and influence over others
and history is not easy.â Alston also criticized the blindness of white
anarchists to their own racism and privilege. He expressed the need for
white anarchists to fight racism not only in the worldâs institutions,
but also within the movement itself. They need to deepen their
understanding of oppression.
Black Anarchics should be credited for the much-needed broadening of the
anarchist struggle, especially with regard to race. The efforts of BARs
like Ernesto Aguilar, Pedro Ribeiro, Ashanti Alston, and others, to
create the decentralized Anarchist People Of Colour or APOC movement,
were crucial for the wider recognition of intersectional analysis within
anarchism. Thereâs still a lot of work to do, but at least theyâve
carved a space for anarchists of colour.
In 2003, Ernesto Aguilar organized the first APOC conference, with
around 300 attendees, in Detroit, Michigan. The conference even got
support from white anarchists, who raised funds and offered to provide
security for the event in the face of Nazi threats of violence. As
Alston said in an interview with Black Ink, âthe conference allowed many
anarchists of colour to see each other for the first time, recognize our
commonalities, and understand the need to work from a foundation where
we could respect each other and work in our communities.â It allowed
them to share their experience and articulate their vision to fellow
anarchists of colour, advocate for a stronger analysis of race and
ethnicity within the anarchist movement, and develop a conscious project
of self-determination for people of colour.
As Aguilar and Alston have both articulated, people of colour are
working through our own internalized racism, and need an organizing
space, without the input or approval of white people, to deconstruct
racism and its impact on our psyches and self esteem. Members of the
APOC movement published a two-volume edited collection called Our
Culture, Our Resistance. Linked below.
And what about Anarkata? As a political tendency, developed out of Black
Anarchisms and defined by the Afrofuturist Abolitionists of the Americas
in 2019, it incorporates elements of not only Anarchism, but also Black
Marxism, Maoism, Pan-Africanism, Black feminism, Queer liberation, etc
etc. Thus, it stands opposed to not only the Western and capitalist
forces oppressing Black people, but all axes of oppression that work
against us. The term Anarkata is short for âanarchic akata,â a
reclamation of the Yoruba word for âhousecatâ or âwild animalâ,
considered a slur by some. Just to make this clear, Anarkata is not a
term nonBlack people should be applying to any old Black Anarchic. It is
an in-house term. Relax yuhself.
Anarkata is inspired by the rich history of Black resistance. From the
communal nomads of Africa, to the stateless Africans who defied African
empires, to the refugees who fled Saharan and Atlantic Slave Trades, to
the Black captives who found queer love despite all odds, to the Black
pirates who bled empire of its stolen wealth, to the Maroons of the
Americas, to the slave uprisings and race riots that would threaten the
white power structure, to the Black guerillas who resisted European
colonialism, to the Black women who challenged white supremacist
patriarchy, to the Black trans people who transgress the impositions of
colonial gender binaries, to the Pan-Africanist struggle to connect the
freedom of the entire diaspora, to the fight for disability justice, to
the prison abolitionist struggle.
At the root of the Anarkata tradition is the Black tendency to defy
rigidity, borders, hierarchy, and enclosure. To emphasize freedom
through grassroots organizing, mutual aid, and revolutionary struggle.
To quote the Anarkata statement, âThrough countless moments of defiance
and flexibility, our ancestors made a way for us to imagine an anarchic
radicalism that is unmistakably Black.â
Although Iâve been focused on the work of BARs in the Americas, I donât
want to ignore the distinct yet related struggle of anarchists in
Africa. Letâs discuss the particular anarchist struggles in South
Africa, the Horn of Africa, and Nigeria.
The Zabalaza Anarchist Communist Front, founded in 2003, is an anarchist
communist platformist and especifista organization active in
Johannesburg, South Africa. The name is derived from âstruggleâ in
Xhosa. The organization is involved in theoretical development,
anarchist agitation and propaganda, and participation within the class
struggle. Their strategy is simple. They participate in and help create
mass, heterogeneous social movements with the objective of spreading the
influence of anarchist principles and practices, even if they arenât
recognized as such, like: direct democracy, mutual aid, horizontalism,
class combativeness, direct action, and independence from electoral
politics and parties. The ZACF has faced death threats, repression, and
arrest, especially of its Black members.
Horn Anarchists, founded in 2020, is a collective project developed in
the Horn of Africa to organize and disseminate anarchist ideas, values,
and politics. The collective is united by values of equality, kindness,
mutual aid, solidarity, and voluntarism. Prior to the collective,
anarchist was a label that various Marxist-Leninist parties would hurl
at their opponents in order to smear them. There is little consciousness
of anarchism on the Horn, or awareness of class struggle. Highly
hierarchical Orthodox Christianity dominates politics and society in
Ethiopia, and the expansionist and assimilationist Ethiopian empire has
aimed to melt all the diverse religions, ethnicities, and identities
into one Orthodox Christian Ethiopian identity. In the midst of the
Tigray genocide, the Horn Anarchists collective plans to meet in Sudan
to work with refugees who have been forced to flee their homes.
In Nigeria, The Awareness League flourished in the 1990s, but has
declined since then. Born out of the collapse of state âcommunismâ in
Europe, anarchism became increasingly popular in the struggle against
military rule in Nigeria. In fact, the League derived all of its
lifeblood from that resistance, joining forces with other anti-military
groups and growing in popularity. However, with the coming of civilian
rule in 1999, the Awareness League, along with virtually all leftist
organizations, practically evaporated, or in some cases gravitated to
electoral politics. They no longer had a common enemy, and were not
prepared for the consequences of civilian rule. The most recent
invocation of anarchism in Nigeria has come from the former military
junta leader, now President of Nigeria, who warned young Nigerians that
anarchists were attempting to hijack the 2020 EndSARS movement.
Nigerian anarchist and co-author of African Anarchism Sam Mbah said in
2012 that âanarchism is not dead in Africa.â However, it is important to
understand that anarchism, as a political movement, is going to take
time to develop in Africa, to agitate the people and spread the
awareness of what it is. Mbah believed that African Anarchists could
build a movement on the continent by finding common ground with those
who seek to hold the government accountable, fight for the environment,
fight for gender equality, and fight for human rights. Sam Mbah passed
in 2014, may he rest in power. However, the work of Horn Anarchists and
Zabalaza Anarchist Communist Front prove that his efforts to develop
anarchism in Africa were not in vain. They continue to carry the torch.
Solidarity forever.
Thanks to the effort of Black Anarchics, alongside the influence of the
prison abolition movement and the various Indigenous struggles of the
past few decades, the anarchist movement has broadened significantly. It
still has a ways to go, but it has made progress. The Classical
Anarchist devotion almost solely to capitalism and the State has been
superseded by a growing recognition of struggles around patriarchal,
racial, colonial, and national domination. The contributions of
non-anarchist yet highly influential thinkers like Audre Lorde, Angela
Davis, and bell hooks have significantly developed contemporary
anarchismâs intersectional approach, but their influence is not
widespread or widely-recognized enough. That needs to change.
In her interview with Northeastern Federation of Anarchist Communists,
bell hooks challenges us to: âDare to look at the intersectionalities.
Dare to be holistic. Part of the heart of anarchy is [to] dare to go
against the grain of the conventional ways of thinking about our
realities. Anarchists have always gone against the grain, and thatâs
been a place of hope.â Learn from our ancestors. From the precolonial
African communalists to the elders who are still with us today. As for
praxis, Ervin advocated a strategy of survival programmes, mutual aid,
housing coops, rent strikes, labour strikes, the construction of local
community councils, and the seizure of food systems, workplaces, and
educational institutions. See where you can get started.
To my Black siblings, my famalay, all over the world, from right here in
Trinidad, to wherever you find yourself, struggling against
anti-Blackness, patriarchy, capitalism, and the State: donât wait to be
led. Donât negotiate your freedom. Alston had a word for you: âYou all
can do this. You have the vision. You have the creativity. Do not allow
anyone to lock that down.â Ella Baker also spoke on it: âStrong people
donât need strong leaders.â ZoĂ© Samudzi and William C Anderson remind us
in The Anarchism of Blackness that âThis burning house cannot be
reformed to appropriately include us, nor should we want to share a
painful death perishing in the flames. A better society has to be
written through our inalienable self-determinations, and that will only
happen when we realize we are holding the pen.â