Given the ongoing threats from white supremacist violence and the use of counterinsurgency tactics to divide our struggles, how can my group effectively foster a shared understanding of these tactics' roots in colonial and extractivist systems, while building genuine solidarity across Indigenous, environmental, and labor movements—especially when these divisions are often reinforced by state and corporate interests?
Begin with story, not jargon. Invite loggers, land defenders and rank-and-file unionists to a fire-circle where Elders recount how colonial timber barons stole both trees and wages. Map the lineage of today’s pickup-truck intimidation to the cavalry that cleared nations for railroads. When people grasp that white-supremacist vigilantism is the unpaid security force of extractivism, the us-versus-them spell weakens.
Next, braid struggles through shared risk. Organise “solidarity patrols” where Indigenous guardians, climate blockaders and union stewards jointly monitor threatened sites, livestreaming any police or vigilante harassment. Visibility deters violence and forges trust faster than panels.
Back at camp, run dual-track trainings: one on anti-racist labour history, another on ecological science, both ending in a collective action that targets the same corporate culprit. The theory is simple: by creating a narrative and a ritual in which each faction’s victory depends on the other’s presence, you sabotage the divide-and-rule algorithm.
Seed union caucuses that adopt land-back principles and, in return, propose forestry co-ops owned by workers and Indigenous nations together. This sketches a post-extractive horizon and offers material stakes in solidarity.
Which concrete moment of shared peril can you leverage next week to turn cautious allies into co-conspirators?
How can we craft a tangible, collective action that explicitly links the threat of vigilante violence to the colonial legacy of resource extraction—one that compels our diverse allies to see their fates intertwined—and what steps can we take immediately to mobilize their participation before the next escalation?
Stage a “People’s Safety Line” at the very gate where logs exit Indigenous territory. Instead of bodies lying in the road, assemble a living archive: loggers shoulder sawdust sacks labelled “stolen wages,” land defenders carry cedar seedlings marked “unceded land,” healthcare workers hoist stretchers bearing empty work boots tagged “lives lost to vigilantes.” Each element materialises one cost of colonial extraction. A banner overhead reads: Same System, Different Wounds.
Action mechanics:
- Forty-eight-hour sprint hub: pull two reps from every ally group to script symbolism, assign roles and set a date before rumours of the next police operation swell.
- Rapid invitation: circulate a one-minute video featuring an Elder and a rank-and-file mill worker jointly calling for turnout. End with a QR code to a secure signup that pairs each volunteer with a safety marshal.
- Safety marshalling: train mixed crews in de-escalation and live-stream documentation; vigilante aggression is broadcast instantly, revealing its corporate utility.
- Dual demand release: Land Back negotiating table plus worker-controlled forestry co-ops. This roots the spectacle in immediate, achievable gains.
- Post-action assemblies that allocate participants into ongoing project circles, converting momentary unity into durable structure.
Who will you ask tonight to co-author that one-minute call so the invitation itself becomes the first act of shared defiance?
To build understanding and solidarity, we can organize a direct action focused on the colonial roots of resource extraction—like a “Resource Trail Tour” that visually maps how vigilante violence and systemic exploitation are intertwined. Immediately, we can gather allies from different sectors to co-create this narrative, using storytelling and shared symbols, and set a specific date to mobilize people before tensions escalate again. This concrete event helps everyone see their roles in challenging the system head-on.
Turn the Resource Trail into a moving dramaturgy of extraction. Plot the route from clear-cut to export dock, then assign each stop to a different ally: Indigenous youth drum where survey stakes scar the soil, mill workers read pay-stub manifestos outside the corporate office, nurses hang respirators on logging trucks to mark asthma wards filled by slash-burn haze. At every station plant a cedar seedling in a bucket of sawdust labelled “Land + Labor + Life.” Participants scan a QR to hear a minute of oral history that links white vigilantes to frontier militia clearing paths for capital.
Momentum plan:
Day 1: Story-sprint on butcher paper. One evening, one room, all sectors sketch the colonial timeline and pick their scenes.
Day 3: Walkthrough rehearsal with a skeleton crew filming promos for social feeds and union bulletin boards.
Day 7: Public release of route map and audio teaser. Use staggered call times so each sector invites its own base while maintaining operational security.
Day 10: The Tour rolls, livestreams stitched into a single feed; allies not on the ground amplify clips tagged #SameTrailSameFight.
End by delivering a joint declaration to waiting media at the port gate, demanding land-back agreements and worker-controlled mills inside six months.
Which sector has the most to lose if they stay silent, and how will you spotlight that fear so it transforms into presence?