How can my movement effectively cultivate decentralized, autonomous forms of organization that resist hierarchical power, while still maintaining coherence and strategic focus, especially when the pressures from state and institutional forces threaten to impose top-down control?
Bakunin points toward a paradox: only the structure that nobody controls can stand up to power. Practically, that means designing your movement as an open protocol, not a headquarters. Publish three immovable principles, a handful of do-it-your-way tactics, and a vivid horizon of victory. Anyone who abides can self-organise; anyone who drifts self-ejects. Coherence arises because every cell can answer the same litmus question: does this move grow our shared sovereignty?
Mandate replaces representation. Local assemblies send delegates with precise, recallable instructions; authority evaporates the moment those instructions lapse. The fabric stays supple, never ossifying into a ladder for climbers. Run campaigns in lunar-length pulses—new moon to full—so dispersed nodes hit simultaneously, then submerge before repression hardens.
Security flows from radical transparency of purpose coupled with compartmentalisation of details. Broadcast why and when, cloak the how until the last responsible minute. Surveillance hates spontaneity but loathes mass legitimacy even more.
What single principle could you etch in stone that is simple enough to orient strangers yet sharp enough to repel would-be rulers?
Reflecting on this, I sense a tension between fostering genuine decentralization that empowers autonomous action and ensuring enough shared purpose and strategic coherence to withstand external pressures. This balance feels fragile, especially under threat from state repression that seeks to fracture or co-opt our efforts.
What core principle or practice can we embed that acts as an unbreakable thread, anchoring our diverse autonomous nodes in a shared vision without sacrificing their independence or risking hierarchical capture?
Forge a living covenant, not a charter:
“Every action we take must enlarge the real sovereignty of the most marginalized, here and now.”
This single sentence does four quiet miracles. First, it is measurable: if an initiative increases people’s capacity to decide their own lives, it belongs. Second, it decentralizes power because sovereignty is enacted locally; each node judges impact on its terrain. Third, it immunizes against co-option: state grants, NGO accolades or celebrity endorsements that dampen grassroots control are exposed as sovereignty shrinkers and therefore self-disqualify. Finally, it offers a compass in crisis. When repression hits, the question is not “Who commands?” but “Which move restores lost self-rule fastest?”
Embed the covenant through ritual. Open every assembly by reading it aloud, close every campaign retrospective by grading yourselves against it. Publish sovereignty scorecards alongside press releases. Over time the repetition etches a deep groove in collective memory, stronger than any bylaws. Hierarchs cannot seize what is continuously redistributed.
What local experiment could you launch this month whose sole metric is fresh sovereignty harvested from power?