More by: Bob

In my last column, I wrote about what pushed me to get actively involved in anarchist politics. While the final push came in the form of seeing the Seattle WTO protests in 1999, the roots of my involvement lay in punk rock. Political lyrics, anarcho-punk bands, the zine underground, and the DIY ethic were all instrumental in helping me to get involved. They laid the foundation for future actions—they made it acceptable to be political.

Much of capitalist culture is aimed at pacifying dissent and giving people just enough material comforts to keep them from resisting. Of course, this is an incredibly simplified analysis of the social and economic system of capitalism, but if you think about it, much of the culture is aimed at keeping us complacent. We’re told to be content watching television, using Facebook, or going out to eat a few times per week. We’re taught to ignore the injustices all around us and to just be glad we are not as bad off as our neighbors. In cases where we are envious of our neighbors, we are told that we should work harder to afford the same things they have. When it comes to politics, we are told to vote every few years and to accept that the candidates offer the best we can possibly hope for. Occasionally there are openings for protest—when something particularly egregious happens or when you are in college (if you are lucky enough to afford it)—but that is largely done within state-sanctioned channels.

The punk scene does a pretty good job of preparing folks for involvement in anarchist politics. In the punk scene, being political is generally accepted. For the most part, punks reject racism, sexism, and homophobia (of course, many problems exist) and a broad anti-authoritarian streak runs through the punk scene. We tend to believe that everyone is equal and that everyone can start a band, do a zine, or start a venue (again, this is glossing over many problems that do exist in the scene). At the same time, vegetarianism and veganism are common, albeit seemingly less so than they once were. Moreover, the decentralized DIY network of punk houses, show spaces, collectives, zines and the like that enables bands to tour the country is somewhat akin to an informal network of collectives in the anarchist sense.

That said, as punks we are in a good place to get involved in anarchist politics. We are already political and are familiar with anti-authoritarian politics. Despite this, I see relatively few punks get actively involved in political projects. Aside from the occasional protest, it’s rare to see punks doing much the political sphere these days. There are any number of reasons from apathy and nihilism on the pathetic end, to more legitimate criticisms that politics tend to be “boring” or that they don’t know where to start.

Apathy and nihilism are pretty weak arguments against doing something, if you don’t care that the world is being destroyed or don’t believe that organizing can accomplish anything, you should probably put away your Crass records and trade them in for some Nine Inch Nails records. History is full of examples of folks—whether they be punks or anarchists or whatever—getting together and changing the world. A far more substantive reason for not getting involved is that politics are “boring.” I agree—politics in the traditional sense are boring. There is nothing exciting about endless protests that don’t do anything, signing petitions, court hearings, or any of the other tactics of the traditional “left” in the United States. Ideally, anarchism should be seen as a reaction against “politics” as much as it is a reaction against the state and capitalism.

That said, punks are in a great place to change all that—in our music’s rejection of mainstream values, our aesthetics, and our embrace of the DIY ethic—we have already rejected so much of the mainstream, we can kick the boring and stale tactics to the curb. We routinely solve problems in the punk scene in creative ways—we do shows in our houses when we can’t play in clubs, we put out our own records when nobody else will, and we publish our own zines when no media covers our scene. In many ways, this is akin to direct action—the idea of taking specific and strategic actions to achieve a desired political goal (for example, protesting and campaigning against a store that sells fur in order to get them to stop selling fur).

Another common argument coming from punks is that they don’t know where to start. Given how messed up the world is and how seemingly powerful those destroying the planet are, this is understandable. However, this shouldn’t be used as an excuse for not doing anything. Rather than looking at the vast state and corporate forces arrayed against us and feeling disempowered, we should instead see the system as a bunch of interlocking pieces that are vulnerable on many fronts. The key is making the commitment to get active and finding others who share your passion and commitment. We all have unique and valuable talents and passions, all of which are needed in the struggle. Getting together to form affinity groups (temporary groups of like-minded anarchists working on a project, protest, or the like) or collectives (more formal groups of anarchists that typically last for longer periods of time than affinity groups) is the first step, from there, you can decide what you want to work on and go about the work of destroying the existing world and creating the world you want to see.

I have also heard folks say that they don’t have the necessary experience or they are intimidated at the prospect getting involved. Again, this is understandable, but it can be overcome. When I first got involved in anarchist politics, I had no experience. I didn’t know how to do anything. But I learned, I read books and zines and learned through trial and error. I learned about long forgotten history (at least in the mainstream) of the Spanish Civil War when anarchists ran an entire economy through a network of collectives and learned about anarchist squatter communities in New York City in the 1980s and 1990s. I found folks who felt the same way I did and we learned by taking risks and doing things. Sure, things weren’t always perfect, but we tried. At the same time, a lot of what I learned in the punk scene was incredibly helpful. As punks we are used to distilling complex messages into short forms for songs—a skill that is helpful in developing outreach and explaining issues. Experience making flyers for shows was easily applied to making political flyers. Previous experience making zines was helpful in developing political pamphlets. The DIY ethic and anti-authoritarian nature of punk was important in avoiding the pitfalls of the traditional “left” (think democrats, various communist parties that look longingly at the USSR, and boring “progressive” non-profits).

I have been lucky enough to travel across the country to participate in a range of protests and gatherings, none of which required any specific skills. Sure, you get better at things over time—you learn how to be more effective in the streets the more you go to protests and you learn more about anarchist politics the more you are around—but there is a broad understanding in the anarchist community that folks come from different places. I’ve seen confrontations with the state that have done a lot to defeat seemingly undefeatable trade agreements or win other concrete victories, whether that be preventing the clear cut of redwood forces to winning legal ownership of squatted buildings. At conferences I have seen bonds form between collectives and projects that have lasted for years and have made each of the products stronger than they would have been on their own.

Even here in Grand Rapids, there have been examples of anarchist projects that have been successfully undertaken by folks with relatively little previous experience. At various points there have been at least two Food Not Bombs chapters that have served free vegan meals to hungry folks—an example of meeting community needs and building community. The anarchist group ACTIVATE organized a number of noisy and confrontational (at least by Grand Rapids standards) protests against the Iraq War. Anarchists in town have wheatpasted flyers, done graffiti, and more to spread the word about a range of issues from gentrification to the dangers of patriotism. Others have started distros to bring anarchist politics into the punk scene or started infoshops to bring anarchist ideas into the broader community. Other folks have undertaken projects—such as the Really, Really Free Market—that illustrate anarchist principles of mutual aid. In all cases, this work was not undertaken by professional political organizers or career activists—it was done by people like us, people who are pissed at the state of the world and want something better. As with anything, various criticisms of these efforts can and should be made, but with their relatively small numbers, active anarchists have made a decent impact on Grand Rapids. If more folks got involved—especially by organizing projects to fill the gaps left by now defunct groups or pushing organizing in new directions—we could do a lot.

Of course, this column hasn’t been a comprehensive introduction to anarchist organizing and there is a lot that has been glossed over for the sake of space. The main thing I want to get across is that it isn’t that hard to take actions to make positive changes in your community. All it takes is a few trusted friends, a willingness to learn and to take risks, and a plan or goal. There are countless examples in history—both locally and nationally—of small anarchist projects growing beyond their relatively humble beginnings to win substantial victories.