NUCOMINTERN is a website dedicated to the renewal of revolutionary politics, social justice activism, and grassroots organizing. We publish topical reporting, revolutionary theoretical analysis, and commentary on the arts and popular culture. If you would like to contribute to NUCOMINTERN... please email david.thurston78@gmail.com... all contributions are welcome! PEACE.LOVE.REVOLUTION @NUCOMINTERN

Monday, January 9, 2017


Post by Lovette Kargbo Thompson, BAJI Atlanta Organizer

There’s no doubt that migration is changing the face of the future. Still, we must recognize that previous spurts of migration have helped shape the present makeup of populations in many major cities. The roots of the people in a region tie them to the migrations of their ancestors and help explain the history of the region. Over the years, the growing concentration of migrants to these cities has expanded the growth of communities, government and employment. Migration has also contributed to the affluence in diversity of cultures, races, food and ethnicities.
But as the number of African Americans and black immigrants influence communities, many are still forced to adhere to a subservient role in society – they still have to confront the realities of being black. Many experience being racially discriminated against within the workplace and in their communities. Individuals who migrate also tend to experience multiple stresses that can impact their mental well being, including the loss of cultural norms, social support systems, religious customs and adjustments to a new culture which affects identity and the concept of self.There’s no doubt that migration is changing the face of the future. Still, we must recognize that previous spurts of migration have helped shape the present makeup of populations in many major cities. The roots of the people in a region tie them to the migrations of their ancestors and help explain the history of the region. Over the years, the growing concentration of migrants to these cities has expanded the growth of communities, government and employment. Migration has also contributed to the affluence in diversity of cultures, races, food and ethnicities.
The reality is that people who have moved to a new country or have simply moved to a new town, move for a variety of reasons; often because of positive aspects of the new place or negative aspects of the old. Both come with an emotional toll.  For example, as the U.S. and other countries grapple with the influx of Haitians and Africans migrating due to the recent devastation caused by Hurricane Matthew and those fleeing terrorist groups, the rates of mental illness and disempowerment are increasing amongst them. Thousands of migrants are still journeying their way through Latin America, with the hope of making it to the U.S.  They face many layers of oppression, including hunger, political violence, enduring exploitation for employment, or in the worst cases rape or death. 
While immigrant rights advocates and service providers often scramble to meet the immediate physical needs of newly arrived migrants, and collect heart-wrenching stories for the purpose of pushing a pro-immigrant narrative, the emotional needs of migrants often go unmet.  Mental health issues including major depression disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and anxiety disorder are common among newly arrived immigrants and refugees. Our movement must develop the capacity to address both the physical and mental health challenges facing recent migrants. Mental health practitioners and immigration advocates alike should be attuned to the unique stresses and cultural aspects that affect immigrants and refugees in order to best address the needs of this increasing and vulnerable population.  
While there’s no doubt that immigrants and refugees are resilient, traumatic experiences and migration stressors have a great impact on their mental well-being. Let’s not forget this as we gear up to fight xenophobia, racism, and anti-Black and anti-immigrant policies over the next four years.

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Black America and the Passing of Fidel Castro

Republished with the permission of Bill Fletcher, Jr.
It is impossible to discuss Fidel Castro outside of an examination of the Cuban Revolution. And, while I hear that there are many Cuban Americans dancing with glee upon news of the death of President Castro, I know that the emotions within Black America are and will continue to be quite different.
For any Black American who knows anything about the history of the Western Hemisphere, both Cuba and Haiti have a special significance.  Haiti, of course, for successfully ousting the French in 1803 and forming the second republic in the Americas; a Black republic.  Cuba, in 1959, kicked out the USA, the Mafia, and a corrupt ruling class that had enforced racist oppression against most of the Cuban population.  In the cases of Haiti and Cuba, their audacity in the face of a racist imperialism brought forth the wrath of their opponents.  How dare the Cubans stand up to the USA?  How could a country of all of these ‘brown’ and ‘black’ people insist that they should determine their own destinies?
Thus, Fidel Castro immediately had a special significance for countless Black Americans.  When I was quite young I remember my father telling me how his brother-in-law, a professor at Johnson C. Smith University, had sat watching the television as pictures were shown of Cuban exiles entering the USA after the 1959 Revolution.  His comment to my father was that all that he saw were white-looking Cubans stepping off the planes or boats.  No brown and black Cubans.  This told him something about the nature of the Cuban Revolution and its leader, Fidel Castro.
Castro further endeared himself to much of Black America when he visited the USA and took up residence in the Hotel Theresa in New York’s Harlem.  It was there that he met another icon, Malcolm X.  It was situating himself in the Black community that shook much of the US establishment and told Black America that something very unusual was unfolding 90 miles off the coast of Florida.
In the weeks, months and years to come there will be exhaustive examinations of the work and life of Fidel Castro and his impact not only on Cuba but the world.  If you have not read Castro’s “spoken autobiography”, Fidel Castro:  My Life [http://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fidel-Castro-My-Life/Ignacio-Ramonet/9781416562337] I strong recommend it.  I will not try to offer anything approaching an analysis of the man and his times.  What I can say, however, is that there are certainly criticisms to be offered, and differences of opinion of the dynamics of the Cuban Revolution.  That is all fair game.  At the same time, it has been a rare moment when a leader, particularly of a small country, has been willing to thumb his or her nose at the capitalist juggernaut and seek a different path.  Added to this has been, particularly in a Western Hemispheric context, the challenge of taking on racist oppression and approaching it as the cancer that it is, a disease to be removed.
The one and only time that I met Fidel Castro was in January 1999 when I was on a TransAfrica delegation led by the organization’s first president, Randall Robinson.  At the last minute, the night before we were to leave Cuba, we were informed that we would have an opportunity to meet with President Castro.
It was close to midnight when we were informed that we needed to board the bus and head to his office.  When we arrived we walked into a waiting room in anticipation of the meeting.  Suddenly a door opened and out came an old man in an olive green uniform.  Yes, it was Castro.  I think, quite irrationally, I was expecting the young Castro of the 1960s.  But here was someone about the same age as my father.  He circulated around the room and was introduced to our delegation.  We then retired to another room to begin our meeting.
It is hard to describe what happened next, and probably equally hard for anyone to believe it.  We sat in the room with Castro until about 3:30am.  He never lost a beat.  He never seemed tired.  In fact, as the minutes and hours went forward, he seemed to gain energy!  Castro spoke with us about the Cuban Revolution, race, and many other issues.  Yes, he spoke a lot, but we were transfixed.  And, when we asked him questions, he would consider the matter and always offer a thoughtful response, rather than retreating into rhetoric.  It was particularly illuminating when he informed us that the Cuban Revolution had underestimated the power of racism.  As he said at the time, when the 26th of July Movement (the revolutionary organization that led the anti-Batista struggle) took power they thought that it was enough to render racist discrimination illegal and that should settle the matter.  The entrenched power of racism, even in a society that was attempting to root it out, was more substantial than they had anticipated.
Hearing this from Castro represented a special moment.  There has frequently been a defensiveness among Cuban officials about matters of race in Cuba, despite the tremendous advances that they have made, advances probably of greater significance than any other country in the Western Hemisphere.  Yet, manifestations of racism remain and, to our surprise, Castro was prepared to address them.
Fidel Castro’s demise comes as no surprise.  He had been facing health challenges for some time.  Nevertheless, given the number of attempts on his life and the other challenges that he had faced, there has been a bit of magical thinking for many people, believing that he would, somehow, always be there.
For many of us in Black America, Castro represented the audacity that we have desired and sought in the face of imperial and racial arrogance.  While it is unfortunate that some of us have withheld concerns and criticisms out of respect for Castro and the Cuban Revolution, it is completely understandable.  After all, this was the country that deployed troops to Angola that helped to smash the South African apartheid army and their Angolan allies.  This was the country that has deployed doctors in the face of countless emergencies, to countries that could never afford such assistance.  This is the country that has studied and come to understand hurricanes in a way unlike most in the hurricane region, so much so that it offered assistance to the USA in the aftermath of the 2005 Hurricane Katrina, assistance that the then Bush administration turned down.
Let his soul rest easy.  And, let the Cuban people continue on their way free of outside interference.  Theirs path has been one upon which they have insisted.  Fidel Castro was one important component in making that happen.  And, if that was not enough, he and the Cuban Revolution shook the world of the 20thcentury.
Bill Fletcher, Jr. is a talk show host, writer and activist.  He can be followed on Twitter, Facebook and at www.billfletcherjr.com.

Friday, November 18, 2016

CHALLENGING TRUMP: Exposing White Supremacist Organizing

Protests Planned Against Trump, Alt Right, White Supremacy, Richard Spencer
Colorful dance protest, rally, speeches, outside white supremacist group holding conference in Washington DC.
Conference organized by Richard Spencer, prominent white supremacist who was recently banned from Twitter.

What: Colorful protests, speeches, dancing, rallies, in street outside Alt Right white supremacist gatherings
When: Dance protest Friday 11/18/2016, 6-11 PM. Rally outside of white supremacist conference, Saturday 11/19/201612:30-3:30 PM.
Where: Dance protest location st 6 pm at Trump Hotel, Washington DC. Rally outside of white supremacist conference, 13th St NW & Pennsylvania Ave NW, outside the Ronald Reagan Building, Washington DC.

Washington DC — As millions march through the streets of major US cities to protest president-elect Donald Trump, many groups are also pivoting to examine the ideology of many of Trump’s most adamant supporters. The DC Antifascist Coalition, a spokescouncil of groups and individuals against fascism, are organizing several events this weekend in opposition to a conference held by the National Policy Institute, a white supremacist group that has been designated a “hate group” by the Southern Poverty Law Center. Protests, speeches, dancing, and rallies are planned outside this weekend’s conference on Friday, November 18, 2016, and Saturday, November 19, 2016.

“It is not enough to reject Trump. We must also reject Trumpism, fascism, and white supremacy,” said Lacy MacAuley, a member of the DC Antifascist Coalition. “Our country is in a dangerous period when this hateful ideology is allowed to strut through our Washington DC government buildings to try to build momentum for ethnic cleansing. Make no mistake — they may speak in lofty academic language and wear suits, but these white supremacists want a white homeland and forced sterilization for people of color right here in the United States.”

On Friday, protesters will hold a colorful dance protest in the streets, outside a dinner being held by the National Policy Institute to start its weekend conference. The location has not yet been determined because the institute has attempted to keep its dinner location secret to avoid protests, but protesters are using undisclosed methods to determine the whereabouts of conference participants. On Saturday, as the institute holds its white supremacist conference inside the Ronald Reagan Building in downtown Washington DC, protesters will be outside, speaking, chanting, and rallying to oppose and reject the group’s ideology. These events will be attended by many of the crowds who have marched in the past 10 days to protest Trump.

“Working against racism means that we fundamentally and vehemently reject the notion of genetic superiority and white supremacy," said David Thurston, a member of the Black Alliance for Just Immigration, Empower DC, and All Souls Church in Washington DC. "We are sending a clear message to call out racism in all of its horrible forms. Racism is at its most dangerous when it is wearing a suit, a tie, and a malevolent smile.”

Wearing Nazi symbols such as swastikas and openly praising Hitler, many National Policy Institute supporters are active in Alt Right activities, online and offline. The institute’s materials openly identify genetic differences, not systemic racism, colonialism, or a legacy of slavery, for poverty among people of color. While claiming to be based on “science,” much of the institute’s material relies heavily on the widely-discredited IQ test as evidence of “racial disparities.” They base actual policy prescriptions on previously-debunked science purportedly showing genetic differences between people who identify as white and people with other identities, and are likely to discuss these dubious policy prescriptions at their conference this weekend.

The founder of the institute, Richard Spencer, has been permanently banned from entering the UK, and was deemed a “national security threat” after his arrest in Hungary in 2014. He was recently banned from Twitter in a prominent purge by the company this week.

Friday, November 18, 2016
Dance protest Friday 11/18/20168-11 PM
6 pm Trump Hotel

Saturday, November 19, 2016
Rally outside of white supremacist conference, Saturday 11/19/201612:30-3:30 PM
13th St NW & Pennsylvania Ave NW, outside the Ronald Reagan Building, Washington DC

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Defend Kshama Sawant

Since calling for mass action  to shut-down Donald Trump's inauguration, Seattle City Council Member Kshama Sawant has been flooded by racist, violent, and xenophobic hate-mail.  People of conscience from across the country need to speak up and defend one of our few openly anti-capitalist elected officials.  We need to defend free speech and build a movement that makes it clear that the white nationalist forces emboldened by Trump's campaign are exposed for what they are.  Now is not the time for a peaceful transition to a new Trump regime.  It is a time for all those who oppose what Trump represents to seek common ground and build deeply rooted movements and organizations of resistance.  An online petition has circulated calling for a recall for Council Member Sawant.  It reads as follows:

"Kshama Sawant is not respecting the will of the people. She's using her platform to incite violence and call for protests and riots.   Our elected officials should be helping and bringing people together in our communities not promoting hate towards our democracy.  Whether you like the outcome or not of the election, we look upon our officials to follow the laws of this country.  Let's help bring people together and follow the laws to get things done not promote hate and dismay because this election did not go her way.  Let's send a message to our local Mayor that she should step down from her position or be impeached.  It is not appropriate for elected officials to call for protests."

We need to call on all progressive leaders, labor officials, and anti-racist forces to support Council Member Sawant and take a stand during and after Trump's inauguration.  Return to this site over the coming days to see how you can show your solidarity with the growing resistance.

Friday, October 28, 2016


Please support monthly review: monthlyreview.org >> image above at favianna.com

Black Lives Matter and the Struggle for Freedom

Brian P. Jones is a doctoral candidate in Urban Education at CUNY Graduate Center.
This article is a discussion of Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor, From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation (Haymarket, 2016).
In late April 2016, at a town hall-style event in London, President Obama complained about the rising movement against the state-sanctioned murder of black people often referred to as Black Lives Matter. Activists, he admonished, should “stop yelling” and instead push for incremental change through the official “process.” “Once you’ve highlighted an issue and brought it to people’s attention and shined a spotlight,” the President remarked, “and elected officials or people who are in a position to start bringing about change are ready to sit down with you, then you can’t just keep on yelling at them.”1 The spectacle of the first black president scolding black activists in the context of a rising rate of police murder (as of this writing, the police have killed 630 individuals, at least 155 of them black, nationwide in 2016) speaks volumes about the state of black politics today.2
For those trying to understand the emergence of a new black movement—or, perhaps more accurately, a new phase of a longer, older movement—on the watch of the first black president, Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor’s new book, From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation is an essential starting point. In lucid prose, free from jargon and pretense, she renders important historical lessons about how we got to this point, and lays out forceful arguments for the kinds of vision and strategy that can guide the future of this movement.
Anti-black racism in this country has taken many forms, whether pseudo-scientific, psycho-cultural, or both, but what has remained unchanged throughout U.S. history is the need for a system of exploitation and oppression to locate the “problem” with black people themselves. Pathologizing black people is, Taylor writes, “as old as the nation itself.” Thomas Jefferson insisted that black people’s apparent inferiority was not the result of being enslaved; it was, he claimed, “nature, which has produced the distinction.” So, too, in our time, Taylor argues, the widespread ideas about black inferiority—even if no longer couched in “natural” terms—are just as insidious. More than two centuries after Jefferson, liberals love to believe that programs such as the Harlem Children’s Zone and KIPP charter schools, promising to teach “middle class norms” to black children, can “solve” poverty. But just as Jefferson’s ideas served to rationalize slavery, today’s “culture of poverty” trope “politically narrates the necessity of austere budgets while sustaining—ideologically at least—the premise of the ‘American Dream.'”3
Such ideological props are even more essential in times of acute crisis. When millions of Americans lost their homes in the aftermath of the 2008 economic crisis, half of the collective wealth of African Americans was wiped out. “The ‘middle-class norms’ of homeownership,” Taylor writes, “could not stop Black people’s wealth from disappearing into thin air after banks fleeced them by steering them toward sub-prime loans.” In 2016, notions of “culture” and “personal responsibility” pervade mainstream discourse on black poverty, providing a rationale for inequality, just as much as they did three hundred years ago.4
The sharpest edge of American racism, of course, is the U.S. criminal justice system. In 2014, after police officer Darren Wilson fatally shot eighteen-year-old Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, and left his body lying in the street for four hours, Brown’s neighbors and friends took to those same streets to protest. They were soon joined by many thousands of residents from the surrounding area, who faced down tanks and riot police day after day, night after night. The protests forced the U.S. Department of Justice to conduct an investigation of the police, which uncovered what local black people had known for years: a pattern of intense police surveillance and harassment of black residents, driven by a strong financial incentive. The police department was essentially shaking down Ferguson residents for petty offenses on a regular basis, and these tickets and summonses amounted to roughly 23 percent of the town’s revenue.5 In a majority-black community, the nearly all-white Ferguson police force were steeped in the “culture of poverty” framework. During the federal inquiry, “several officials” explained to investigators that black people were issued more citations and tickets because of a “lack of personal responsibility.”6
Sadly, it is not an exaggeration to extrapolate from Ferguson to the nation. This is the age of “mass incarceration,” as Michelle Alexander has termed it.7 Today the United States is by far the world’s leading jailer, with approximately 2.3 million people locked away in cages; almost one million of those are African American.8 Cash-strapped cities that struggle to fund schools and social services regularly write blank checks for police brutality. Chicago, for example, paid $50 million in 2014 alone to settle police misconduct cases, and devoted more than half a billion dollars to that purpose over the last decade.9 Taylor, like Alexander and others, sees the rise of mass incarceration as a response to the civil rights and Black Power movements of the mid-twentieth century. The ideological corollary of mass incarceration is so-called “colorblindness,” which “has become the default setting for how Americans understand how race and racism work.” While mass incarceration tries to physically restrain black movements, the logic of colorblindness does so ideologically:
It is repeatedly argued that the absence of racial insult means that racial discrimination is not at play. Indeed, the mere mention of race as a possible explanation, or as a means of providing greater context, risks accusations of “playing the race card”—a way of invoking race to silence disagreement. This is deployed to hide or obscure inequality and disparities between African Americans and whites. It has helped to elevate and amplify politics that blame Blacks for their own oppression.10
These developments are all contingent and contested—that is, they are the result of a struggle. Taylor effectively contrasts the rhetoric of the first black president with that of Lyndon Johnson, a white president from the South. While Obama has fairly consistently hewed to the ideology of “personal responsibility,” readers will be struck by the degree to which Johnson emphasized the need to overcome systemic racism. The difference is not to be explained by their personal proclivities, but by the ability of mass movements to shift the national political context and its assumptions. “The entire dynamic of the black struggle pushed mainstream politics to the left during this period,” Taylor argues, “as evidenced by the growth of the welfare state and the increasing number of mainstream voices that identified racism as a problem.”11
Taylor shows that leading figures and organizations in the 1960s and ’70s moved towards systemic, structural critiques of racism and U.S. society. Dr. King said that the black movement was “forcing America to face all of its interrelated flaws—racism, poverty, militarism, and materialism”; Huey Newton declared that “only by eliminating capitalism and replacing it with socialism would all black people be able to practice self-determination and thus achieve freedom.”12 At their height, these black freedom movements successfully transformed the political landscape of U.S. politics. In their official report, social scientists brought together under the Johnson administration to investigate the riots sweeping U.S. cities concluded, in remarkably unambiguous language, that white people had created the problems plaguing black people. “What white Americans have never fully understood—but what the Negro can never forget,” they wrote, “is that white society is deeply implicated in the ghetto. White institutions created it, white institutions maintain it, and white society condones it.”13
One of the most important changes to the landscape of the historic black freedom struggle has been the rise of a black political elite. When twenty-five-year-old Freddie Gray was murdered by Baltimore police—a cell phone video showed him being “disappeared” into a police van, emerging hours later with his spinal cord cut nearly in half—the city erupted in protest. However, “this was no Ferguson.” “What distinguishes Baltimore from Ferguson and North Charleston [where a black man, Walter Scott, was gunned down by a white police officer two weeks before Freddie Gray was murdered in Baltimore] is that the black political establishment runs the city,” Taylor writes. “African Americans control virtually the entire political apparatus.” Black elected officials were quick to condemn the mostly black demonstrators. Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake and President Obama both condemned them as “criminals” and “thugs.” Just like the white-dominated political establishment in Ferguson, Baltimore’s black political establishment did not hesitate to call out city and state troops to clear the protesters off the streets. “When a Black mayor, governing a largely Black city, aids in the mobilization of a military unit led by a black woman to suppress a black rebellion, we are in a new period of the Black freedom struggle.”14
How did it come to this? Taylor’s fluency with history is useful here. She takes us through the high hopes the left invested in the election campaigns of the first black mayors of Cleveland, Camden, and Philadelphia, the rise of the Congressional Black Caucus, and the thousands-strong national convention of black activists and elected officials held in Gary, Indiana, in 1972. Tragically, the rise of thousands of highly placed black elected officials since that time—primarily in the Democratic Party—has coincided with the decline of mass-movement organizing and the rise of mass incarceration. These politicians swept into office promising radical change, but have instead become reliable custodians of the system. The black political class “has no fundamental political differences with the status quo in the United States insofar as it does not directly impede their ability to participate freely in the nation’s governing and business institutions.” Mass movements made their careers possible, expanded the political horizons, and created the impetus for reform. But when those movements receded, so did the pressure for real change:
It was the Black insurgency that created the conditions that allowed Black elected officials to become viable politically. But the more the movement on the streets waned, the greater the distance between ordinary Black people and the black officials claiming to represent them. Added to that dilemma were the constraints of governing in a time of budget cuts and austerity that compelled Black officials to act in fiscally conservative ways—just as their base was in desperate need of robust spending and resources.15
The chapters that follow are filled with political and theoretical insights—about the nature of the police, the new organizations that have arisen to challenge police murders, and the strategic challenges ahead. To call this book theoretically rich may puzzle readers accustomed to equating “theory” with vague abstractions and impenetrable prose. Taylor takes the opposite approach, laying out sophisticated ideas in blunt, forceful, and sometimes biting sentences. Her analysis of the police is concise and provocative:
The racism of the police is not the product of vitriol; it flows from their role as armed agents of the state. The police function to enforce the rule of the politically powerful and the economic elite; this is why poor and working-class communities are so heavily policed. African Americans are overrepresented among the ranks of the poor and the working class, so police overwhelmingly focus on those neighborhoods, even as they direct their violence more generally against all working-class people, including whites. But the police also reflect and reinforce the dominant ideology of the state that employs them, which also explains why they are inherently racist and resistant to substantive reform. In other words, if the task of the police is to maintain law and order, then that role takes on a specific meaning in a fundamentally racist society.16
Likewise, Taylor is attuned to the finer points of the U.S. race-class dialectic, often describing it in terms that are counterintuitive to today’s activists. For example, she notes that pathologizing black people and “naturalizing” black inequality have deleterious effects for white people:
The intractability of Black conditions becomes seen as natural as opposed to standing as an indictment of the system itself, while the hard times befalling ordinary whites are rendered almost invisible. For example, the majority of poor people in the United States are white, but the public face of American poverty is Black. It is important to point out how blacks are overrepresented among the poor, but ignoring white poverty helps to obscure the systemic roots of all poverty.17
Taylor contests popular usage of the concept of “whiteness,” arguing that it misrepresents the behavior of elite and ruling class people of color. “[W]hen ‘acting white’ is invoked to explain the actions of reactionary nonwhite political actors, like Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas,” she writes, “it is being used to transpose class and race, further distorting the existence of class differences.” She continues,
In this way, “whiteness” is an adaptation of the American left to the myth that the United States is a classless society. Nonwhite people in positions of power are accused of “performing whiteness” instead of exercising their class power—as if Clarence Thomas or Barack Obama are acting in ways they do not wholly intend to. Moreover, it invariably collapses important distinctions among whites into a common white experience that simply does not exist.18
The murder of Trayvon Martin and the acquittal of his killer, George Zimmerman, was a turning point in the development of this new phase of the black struggle. The first black president warned against letting our “passions” get the better of us, lecturing that “we are a nation of laws.” But what does such talk really mean, Taylor asks, given the dramatically different treatment meted out to African Americans in the criminal justice system? “George Zimmerman benefited from this dual system,” she writes. “He was allowed to walk free for weeks before protests pressured officials into arresting him.” And, adding insult to injury: “He was not subjected to drug tests, though Trayvon Martin’s dead body had been…. Obama’s call for quiet, individual soul-searching was a way of saying that he had no answers.” In the days and weeks that followed, activists sensed the need to concretize new efforts to challenge U.S. racism, and accordingly they created new organizations. Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi teamed up with Alicia Garza to turn the online hashtag Garza began using after Zimmerman’s acquittal—#BlackLivesMatter—into a national organization. In Chicago, youth organizers created Black Youth Project 100, and in Florida, where Martin was murdered, Umi Saleh and friends formed the Dream Defenders.19
In the book’s final chapters, Taylor assesses the ideas and debates that have animated these and other leading activists and organizations, which have collectively come to be called the Black Lives Matter movement. Noting, for example, activists’ frequent references to “state violence,” she argues that use of this language “strategically pivots away from a conventional analysis that would reduce racism to the intentions and actions of the individuals involved.” Many of the people and organizations she highlights are “intersectional” in their approach to organizing. “In other words, they start from the basic recognition that the oppression of African Americans is multidimensional and must be fought on different fronts.”20 The highly decentralized, multifaceted nature of organizing in this movement has been a source of strength—allowing space for new leadership, particularly that of black women, and new organizations to grow.
At the same time, however, some activists raise the model of disruptive actions by small groups to a political principle. Taylor argues instead that genuine liberation requires transcending capitalism, which in turn means building a movement that can, at some point, collaborate in highly coordinated ways on a large scale. She quotes historian Barbara Ransby: “If we think we can all ‘get free’ through individual or uncoordinated small-group resistance, we are kidding ourselves.” And if our goal in the long term is to achieve a mass movement, in the short term, she writes, decentralized and “leaderless” organizing can make it harder for new people to join. As Taylor cautions, “at a time when many people are trying to find an entry point into anti-police activism and desire to be involved, this particular method of organizing can actually narrow opportunities for the democratic involvement of many in favor of the tightly knit workings of those already in the know.”21 Other important debates she takes up include the role of private foundations and philanthropy in contemporary activism and the importance of formulating and fighting for winnable demands, while keeping our eyes on the proverbial prize of black liberation.
Black liberation is essential to the liberation of all people, and impossible without it. While the black elite are steadily working to preserve the status quo, working-class and poor people of all races have an interest in challenging the status quo. The nationwide fight for a $15 hourly minimum wage, spearheaded by low-wage service workers, should be a focus of anyone who cares about black life in the United States. “Twenty percent of fast-food workers are Black,” Taylor writes, “and 68 percent of them earn between $7.26 and $10.09 an hour.… Twenty percent of Walmart’s 1.4 million workers are African American, making it the largest employer of Black Americans. There is a logical connection between the low-wage workers’ campaigns and the Black Lives Matter movement.”22
On May Day 2015, union activists around the country rallied under the banner of Black Lives Matter, and Taylor notes that the International Longshore and Warehouse Union Local 10 “conducted a work stoppage that halted the flow of millions of dollars’ worth of goods and prevented them from being loaded onto cargo ships. This was the first time a major union had initiated a work stoppage in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement.” Others, however, regard gestures of solidarity or connection with suspicion. When activists wanted to highlight racism against Arabs and Muslims by using the hashtag #MuslimLivesMatter, some in the Black Lives Matter movement objected that the phrase amounted to an “appropriation” of a cause that rightfully belonged to black people. Taylor disagrees. “It is one thing to respect the organizing that has gone into the movement against police violence and brutality,” she argues, “but quite another to conceive of Black oppression and anti-Black racism as so wholly unique that they are beyond the realm of understanding and, potentially, solidarity from others who are oppressed.”23
Ultimately, From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation argues that black liberation requires an intersectional movement for black lives that aspires to challenge the structures of capitalism itself and the U.S. state that upholds it. The historic dynamic of the black freedom struggle has been to raise these large issues again and again, to “force America to face all of its interrelated flaws.” The last great wave of black struggle was crushed with co-optation on one hand and repression on the other. The next, coming wave will inevitably grapple with similar questions, but in new and changing conditions. Taylor’s short but powerful and provocative book is a vital read for those wrestling with how to understand the rise of this phase of the black struggle, and where it can and should go from here. Black people will no doubt lead any movement for black liberation, but in the long run, Taylor reminds us, the question of black liberation should be an urgent concern for all people fighting for genuine freedom, justice, and equality. “The aspiration for Black liberation cannot be separated from what happens in the United States as a whole,” she concludes. “Black life cannot be transformed while the rest of the country burns.”24


  1. ↩Michael D. Shear and Liam Stack, “Obama Says Movements Like Black Lives Matter ‘Can’t Just Keep on Yelling,'”New York Times, April 23, 2016.
  2. ↩The Counted: People Killed by the Police in the US,”Guardian, http://theguardian.com; Julia Craven, “Here’s How Many Black People Have Been Killed by the Police This Year. Too Many,”Huffington Post, July 7, 2016, http://huffingtonpost.com.
  3. ↩Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor,From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation (Chicago: Haymarket, 2016), 23–25.
  4. ↩Ibid., 28.
  5. ↩Michael Martinez, “Policing for profit: How Ferguson’s fines violated rights of African-Americans,” CNN, March 6, 2015, http://cnn.com.
  6. ↩Taylor,From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation, 49.
  7. ↩Michelle Alexander,The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (New York: New Press, 2012).
  8. ↩National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, “Criminal Justice Fact Sheet,” http://naacp.org.
  9. ↩Taylor,From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation, 129.
  10. ↩Ibid., 72.
  11. ↩Ibid., 1, 45, 47.
  12. ↩Judson L. Jeffries,Huey P. Newton: The Radical Theorist (Jackson, MS: University Press of Mississippi, 2002), 69–70.
  13. ↩Taylor,From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation, 76, 78, 80.
  14. ↩Ibid., 103–04, 106.
  15. ↩Ibid., 108.
  16. ↩Ibid., 49.
  17. ↩Ibid., 210–11.
  18. ↩Ibid., 150–151.
  19. ↩Ibid., 151.
  20. ↩Ibid., 167.
  21. ↩Ibid., 175–76.
  22. ↩Ibid., 183.
  23. ↩Ibid., 185, 187.
  24. ↩Ibid., 193–94.