Many years ago a latinx friend of mine designed stickers that simply read “Migrants Welcome, Against Borders” (versions in English and Spanish) under a circle-A and the two of us covered the Bay Area with hundreds of them. Amusingly, this provoked the ire of a prominent white anarchist who denounced the phrase as pro-gentrification. She emphatically preferred “Refugees Welcome” because it distinguished those who are coercively displaced from their proper homes by various forms of western imperialism in contrast to those who voluntarily choose to migrate, like (her example) those moving to the bay for tech jobs.

Obviously, you don't run around telling everyone you're under investigation, anyone who has been investigated, or in close relation with someone who has, knows this well. So how do we ensure we keep those around us safe while under this type of pursuit?

Perché tornare sulle questioni dell’affinità e dell’organizzazione informale? Di certo non perché manchino i tentativi di esplorare e approfondire questi aspetti dell’anarchismo, perché le discussioni di ieri come di oggi non ne siano in parte ispirate, o non esistano testi che abbordano tali questioni magari in maniera più dinamica. Ma certi concetti esigono senza dubbio uno sforzo analitico e critico permanente, se non vogliono perdere il loro significato a furia di essere frequentemente usati e ripetuti. Altrimenti le nostre idee rischiano di diventare dei luoghi comuni, delle «evidenze», terreno fertile per il gioco idiota della competizione di identità dove la riflessione critica diventa impossibile. Capita che la scelta dell’affine venga liquidata frettolosamente da alcuni come se si trattasse di un rapporto arroccato sulle proprie idee, un rapporto che non permetterebbe un contatto con la realtà e nemmeno con i compagni. Mentre altri agitano l’affinità come uno stendardo, una sorta di parola d’ordine — e come con tutte le parole d’ordine, spesso è il vero significato, profondo e propulsivo, ad esserne la prima vittima.

Why come back to questions about affinity and informal organization? Certainly not because we are lacking attempts to explore and deepen these aspects of anarchism, not because yesterday’s discussion, like today’s, aren’t being somewhat inspired by them, and also not because there is a lack of texts – true, most of the time in other languages – that approach these questions perhaps in a more dynamic manner. However, without a doubt, certain concepts require a permanent analytical and critical effort, if they don’t want to loose their meaning by being all-too-often used and repeated. Otherwise our ideas risk becoming a common place, some “evidence”, a fertile ground for the idiotic game of identity competition, where critical reflexion becomes impossible. It also happens that the choice of affinity for some becomes quickly dismissed as if it was about a relationship perched on its own ideas, a relationship that would not allow a contact with reality and neither with comrades. While others wave it around like a banner, like some kind of slogan – and like all slogans, usually it is the real meaning, deep and propulsive, to be its first victim.

Pourquoi revenir sur les questions d’affinité et d’organisation informelle ? Ce n’est certes pas parce que manquent les tentatives d’explorer et d’approfondir ces aspects de l’anarchisme, parce que les discussions d’hier comme d’aujourd’hui ne s’en inspirent pas quelque peu, ou qu’il n’existe pas de textes – il est vrai, souvent dans d’autres langues – qui abordent ces questions peut-être de manière plus dynamique. Mais certains concepts exigent sans aucun doute un effort analytique et critique permanent, s’ils ne veulent pas perdre leurs significations à force d’utilisation fréquente et de répétition. Sinon, nos idées courent le risque de devenir des lieux-communs, des « évidences », terrain fertile pour le jeu idiot de la compétition des identités où la réflexion critique devient impossible. Il arrive que le choix de l’affinitaire soit bien vite liquidé par certains comme étant un rapport figé aux propres idées, un rapport qui ne permettrait pas de contact avec la réalité ni même avec les compagnons. D’autres agitent par ailleurs l’affinité comme un étendard, une espèce de mot d’ordre – et comme avec tous les mots d’ordre, c’est souvent la véritable signification, profonde et propulsive, qui en est la première victime.

Warning! This text is full of spoilers for the film How to Blow Up a Pipeline. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s surprisingly enjoyable, so consider watching it first. :)

It is nearly eighty degrees in New York in late October. “My god, aren’t we fucked?” I think to myself as I find Calla Walsh and Paige Belanger drinking coffee outside a Moroccan café at a small rickety table on the Lower East Side. The pair look like ragged young hipsters you might see at a DIY metal show in a basement. Calla is scrawny, but there is an unmistakable intensity in her eyes. Paige inexplicably carries the duality of someone who would knit you a sweater or throw you out of a helicopter.

“w/ out imagination there is no memory
w/ out imagination there is no sensation
w/ out imagination there is no will, desire
…
the war that matters is the war against the imagination
all other wars are subsumed in it.”