The past two weeks have been a relentless torrent of grim and disquieting political news. I will not recount it—partly for the sake of my own fragile sanity, partly for yours. The air is thick with the tempest of threats, real or illusory, spinning faster than the mind can anchor itself. Who among us has the strength—or the futility—to sift through them all, to divine which promises of cruelty might calcify into policy? It would be nothing short of attempting prophecy, a pursuit as absurd as it is paralyzing.
But this moment is not anomalous; rather, it reflects a recurrent pattern in political history. The consolidation of power frequently relies on the strategic manipulation of fear, wherein crises—both real and manufactured—are leveraged to justify expanded authority. This process entails the deliberate fragmentation of social cohesion, fostering isolation and exhaustion to preclude effective resistance. Although history does not repeat in a strict cyclical manner, its structural echoes are discernible. The mechanisms of authoritarian entrenchment are neither novel nor unpredictable. The question, then, is not merely one of recognition but of response: how does historical awareness translate into meaningful resistance?
There is endless talk of demonstrations, of petitions—of playing by the rules of those who made them. Resistance has value, yes, but it is the bare minimum. Reform seduces us because it feels safer, more measured, more reasonable. But history shows us a cruel pattern: small wins unravel, movements are gutted before they can take root, leaders are picked off like sitting ducks. And while we pour oceans of sweat and mountains of money into the machinery of reform, people suffer now.
So I turn to what is within reach. I anchor myself in the tangible: forging relationships, knowing my neighbors, building resilience, learning how to care for those around me. I am not waiting for permission or for change to trickle down. We build the world with our own hands—not someday. Now.
I’m not interested in stockpiling canned beans or preparing for civil war. But let’s be honest—most people aren’t doing that anyway. Instead, they’re scrolling endlessly, numbed by the chaos, or resigning themselves to just getting by. I refuse to settle for distraction or despair, to buckle down for the end days, or wait for some mythical collapse, for the thunderous falling of empires. Look closely: the collapse is already here. We have ceded power to those bloated by wealth, a caste of people insulated from the pulse of ordinary life. Basic healthcare is a luxury, unhoused people are crushed to death by bulldozers, police surveillance looms overhead, and billion-dollar companies inflate the cost of living beyond survival.1 This is not a system in crisis—it is a system functioning exactly as designed.
If you’re searching for ruins, you’re already standing in them.
The manipulation of democratic ideals, the distortion of truth, and the exploitation of division are not unique to any one party or leader—they are entrenched features of governance, both in the U.S. and globally. From the bipartisan passage of the Patriot Act, which expanded surveillance under a Republican administration, to mass deportations under a Democratic one; from corporate bailouts that cross party lines to the continued criminalization of protest, the mechanisms of control remain steady even as the faces in power change.2 This is not new, nor is it an American anomaly—these tactics have long been the playbook of those who seek to consolidate power under the guise of democracy.
History hums with a recurring pattern: tyrannical regimes employ a familiar repertoire of strategies, inflicting harm while disguising their cruelty as necessity or progress.
And here is what we know: Tyranny thrives on fear, wielding division as its sharpest weapon. It creates scapegoats, fractures communities, twists truth until reality itself becomes uncertain.3 Surveillance deepens this control, making even private thoughts dangerous.4 Institutions are hollowed out under the guise of reform, while economic despair and cultural strife are wielded to distract, divide, and dominate.5 These tactics are not new—they are the well-worn tools of oppression, designed to crush resistance and tighten the grip of power.
Wealth alone does not sustain this system—it is fear, division, and the manufactured illusion of scarcity that fortify its grip. Power thrives when people are turned against one another instead of against those who exploit them. As long as we are fighting each other, we are not fighting them. The first step is to see clearly: America is not what it pretends to be.
Recognizing this reality is essential, not to breed despair but to inspire action. The system is powerful, but it is not invincible. Across the world, communities have taken survival into their own hands—mutual aid networks feeding thousands, tenants’ unions fighting exploitative landlords, workers organizing to reclaim their labor.6 Throughout history, when governments failed to serve their people, communities built alternatives. These movements did not wait for permission.
For instance, amid the devastation of the Syrian Civil War, a de facto autonomous region emerged in northeast Syria, led by Syrian Kurds alongside their Arab and Assyrian allies. Known as the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), it has built a self-governing system rooted in direct democracy, gender equality, and environmental sustainability. This model, often referred to as the Rojava experiment, includes the creation of alternative educational institutions, such as universities that operate under principles distinct from traditional state systems. Despite being under siege from multiple powers, these initiatives aim to build an education system that aligns with their revolutionary values.7
Similarly, the Zapatista movement in Chiapas, Mexico, has developed autonomous municipalities since the 1990s. These communities operate independently of the Mexican government, with their own health, education, and justice systems. The Zapatistas focus on indigenous rights, anti-capitalism, and participatory governance, creating a living example of an alternative societal model.8
In the United States during the 1960s and 1970s, the Black Panther Party established community programs that served as alternatives to existing systems. They created free breakfast programs for children, health clinics, and educational initiatives, aiming to address systemic inequalities and provide for the needs of marginalized communities. These efforts were part of a broader strategy to build self-sufficient structures within oppressed communities.9
Similarly, the American Indian Movement (AIM), founded in 1968, sought to address issues of sovereignty, treaty rights, and police violence. AIM established survival schools to provide culturally relevant education for Native American youth, emphasizing indigenous history, language, and traditions. These initiatives aimed to reclaim cultural identity and autonomy, creating alternative systems that operated outside mainstream institutions.10
These examples demonstrate that when existing systems fail to serve their communities, people can organize to create alternative structures that embody resilience and solidarity. More than just acts of survival, these movements prove that building autonomous, just, and sustainable systems is possible—and that we must learn from their successes to forge new paths forward.
The question is not whether this system can be reformed or rebuilt but whether enough people will recognize the urgency of building something entirely outside its grasp. True change requires civil disobedience, for civil life itself has been shaped by the hands of tyrants. It demands rejecting the norms and laws that uphold unethical and immoral structures, breaking them when necessary to care for one another. Our values must be rooted in harm reduction, solidarity, and an unwavering commitment to protect our neighbors from state violence.
This will not be easy—it is intentionally designed to keep us exhausted. The system ensures that many of us live on the edge of survival, with limited resources and time to care for one another. It fosters competition over solidarity, framing self-interest as a virtue while scarcity is manufactured and weaponized to maintain control. These conditions are not accidental but systemic, and undoing them requires both unlearning these values and building new ways of being together. To move beyond mere survival, we must first recognize that thriving is not a distant ideal but a practice we can reclaim now.
Thriving requires the deliberate act of dismantling exploitation and building systems of care that prioritize autonomy without isolation, mutual care that honors agency, and a commitment to reducing suffering. But it also requires embracing struggle—not as pain to be endured, but as the intellectual and ethical work of determining how we ought to live together. It means forging communities where solidarity is not just an emergency response but a daily practice, where interdependence is recognized as strength, not weakness. Resistance is not just opposition; it is creation.
No one is coming. All we have is each other. And that is not only enough—it is everything.
Research shows that wealth significantly impacts healthcare quality, with higher-income individuals having greater access to medical care, preventative treatments, and better health outcomes. See How Are Income and Wealth Linked to Health and Longevity? Urban Institute, April 2015.
On January 18, 2025, a man was killed after being trapped under a bulldozer during the clearing of a homeless encampment in Atlanta, highlighting the brutality of state actions against unhoused individuals. See The Guardian. Man killed by bulldozer clearing Atlanta homeless encampment. January 18, 2025.
The increasing use of police drones has raised concerns among civil liberties advocates, with the Electronic Frontier Foundation warning that such surveillance programs could disproportionately impact marginalized communities and erode privacy rights. See Electronic Frontier Foundation. Drone as First Responder Programs Are the Latest Aerial Police Surveillance Push. June 2024.
Corporate price gouging has played a significant role in rising inflation, with a study by the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City finding that corporate profits accounted for half of the price increases in 2021. See U.S. Senate Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs. Brown: Corporate Price Gouging Tactics Distort the Market and Drive Inflation. April 27, 2022.
The USA PATRIOT Act received overwhelming bipartisan support in Congress, reflecting a unified legislative response to the events of September 11, 2001. See U.S. Senate. Roll Call Vote 107th Congress - 1st Session: USA PATRIOT Act. October 25, 2001.
The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) has long criticized the USA PATRIOT Act for enabling mass surveillance, arguing that it vastly expanded government powers to spy on citizens without sufficient oversight. See American Civil Liberties Union. End Mass Surveillance Under the Patriot Act.
The Guardian reports that deportations have surged to a 10-year high under the Biden administration, with 271,000 unauthorized immigrants deported in fiscal year 2024, surpassing the Trump-era high of 267,000 deportations in 2019. See The Guardian. Deportations Surge Under Biden Administration, Exceeding Trump-Era Highs. December 19, 2024.
The CARES Act, passed with bipartisan support in response to the COVID-19 pandemic, allocated substantial funds to corporate bailouts, sparking criticism that it disproportionately benefited large corporations over small businesses and individuals. See The Nation. The Bipartisan CARES Act Failed Workers but Saved the Wealthy. April 10, 2020.
In recent years, bipartisan efforts have led to increased criminalization of protest across the U.S., with many states enacting laws that impose harsher penalties on demonstrators, particularly in environmental and social justice movements. See International Center for Not-for-Profit Law. U.S. Protest Law Tracker.
For more on the divide and rule strategy—used by colonial and authoritarian regimes to deepen racial, religious, ethnic, and political divisions—see its deployment in British India, Belgian-ruled Rwanda, Apartheid South Africa, British Nigeria, French Algeria, Jim Crow-era United States, Nazi Germany, and other historical contexts to weaken collective resistance and maintain control.
For more on the use of surveillance as a tool of authoritarian control—see its deployment in East Germany under the Stasi, the Soviet Union under Stalin’s NKVD, Maoist China, Apartheid South Africa, Nazi Germany, and contemporary digital surveillance in China’s Xinjiang region. See Freedom House. The Rise of Digital Authoritarianism: Freedom on the Net Report 2018.
Reforms presented as fiscal responsibility, efficiency, or modernization are often used as a pretext to undermine institutions, concentrate power, or transfer public assets to private interests. This can be seen in the underfunding of the NHS in the U.K. under austerity measures, the privatization of public education in the U.S., judicial rollbacks in Hungary and Poland, and the weakening of the U.S. Postal Service through budget cuts and administrative disruptions.
Dean Spade’s Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (and the Next) explores how grassroots organizations and community-led initiatives have mobilized to meet survival needs through mutual aid, tenant unions, and labor organizing.
Harriet Allsopp and Wladimir van Wilgenburg’s Statelet of Survivors: The Making of a Semi-State in Northeast Syria examines the emergence of the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES) and its model of self-governance amid ongoing conflict.
Richard Stahler-Sholk’s The Zapatista Experience: Constructing Democracy from Below explores how the Zapatista movement established autonomous municipalities, self-governance structures, and an alternative model of participatory democracy in Chiapas, Mexico.
Note: As of the writing of this post (Jan. 2025), Rojava (AANES) is being bombed by Turkey (targeting infrastructure) and many Zapatista communities had to abandon their villages because they are caught up in a paramilitary conflict between two cartels fighting over control of the Southern Mexican border. You can donate to support by selecting the cause from the drop down menu here.
David Hilliard’s The Black Panther Party: Service to the People Programs examines how the Black Panther Party established free breakfast programs, health clinics, and educational initiatives as part of a broader strategy to build self-sufficient structures within oppressed communities.
Paul Chaat Smith and Robert Allen Warrior’s Like a Hurricane: The Indian Movement from Alcatraz to Wounded Knee chronicles the history of the American Indian Movement (AIM), detailing its efforts to reclaim indigenous sovereignty, challenge treaty violations, and resist state oppression through direct action and community organizing.