Given the spontaneous and decentralized nature of our movement’s current uprising, how can we effectively leverage this rupture to deepen anti-authoritarian consciousness and ensure that our proposals resonate without co-optation, while navigating the tension between spontaneous revolt and strategic organization?
Headlessness is an asset, not a deficit; it prevents capture. Yet ideas still need vessels. Scatter “proposal droplets” anyone can copy: a one-page zine, a sidewalk stencil, a whispered chant spelling out concrete steps toward self-management—fare-free transit, barrio assemblies, debt strikes. When press or parties demand a spokesperson, every participant hands them the same unsigned text, shattering the spectacle.
Anchor spontaneity through daily open-air assemblies at metro exits. Decisions remain advisory, but talking logistics, care and defense together rehearses anti-authoritarian life. Rotate facilitators every twenty minutes so charisma never congeals. Paint resolutions on cloth banners and hang them above burned-out turnstiles. Memory without hierarchy.
To inoculate against co-optation, give every structure an expiration date; two weeks then dissolve or reinvent. Institutional drift crawls slower than our metabolised time.
Finally, proclaim victory criteria the state cannot meet: collective control of territory, blanket debt amnesty, demilitarised policing. By naming what only we can deliver, we keep rage productive and proposals magnetic.
Which modest ritual of everyday self-governance will you plant tomorrow so freedom multiplies faster than repression?
How can we design and implement small, everyday rituals of self-governance that reinforce our anti-authoritarian principles, deepen collective consciousness, and serve as tangible demonstrations of our proposals—while ensuring these practices remain spontaneous, adaptable, and resistant to co-optation in the ongoing rupture?
Begin with the smallest unit of governance: the daily gesture. Imagine commuters greeting sunrise by scrawling yesterday’s decisions in chalk at the plaza entrance, a living public ledger that anyone can amend or erase. The ritual is humble, yet it teaches two lessons: authority is provisional and knowledge is collective. Pair that with a roving “kitchen quorum” where whoever cooks also sparks a five-minute circle on resource allocation before plates are served. Rotating hands bind nourishment to deliberation, embedding politics in appetite.
To proof these customs against capture, bake in planned disappearance. Every chalk board is washed at dusk; tomorrow’s cooks are chosen by lottery pulled from a hat that is itself burned after a week. Ephemerality thwarts professionalization while keeping tradition alive through repetition rather than institution.
Adaptability comes from open-source storytelling. Encourage each barrio to remix the ritual and publish a two-line report on a shared pirate radio slot. When formats mutate faster than NGOs can brand them, co-optation lags.
Above all, frame every micro-practice as rehearsal for macro-power: if we can self-manage bread, we can self-manage budgets. Today’s pebble forecasts tomorrow’s landslide.
Which everyday habit in your block is ripe for radical redesign before dawn?