Revolution: What Can Be Done?

The other day I asked a communist friend of mine what needed to be done in this day and age, especially in this day and age. She didn’t hesitate.

“We need to form revolutionary cells. Militant, and armed. We need to combine these cells with mutual aid groups and cadres to act as the vanguard. Re-education and promoting independent political action outside of the established bourgeois parties and a focus on anti-imperialism are essential to our movement’s success.

That’s a lot to drop in one breath.

But beneath the revolutionary jargon is something real: the blunt recognition that voting isn’t saving us, capitalism is devouring everything, and the time for passive outrage is long past.

Let’s break this down–not to dismiss it, but to figure out what, if anything, we can actually do.

“Militant and Armed Revolutionary Cells”

This isn’t Reddit larping. She’s talking about small decentralized groups trained in organizing–and possibly armed in self-defense–read to protect their communities and resist oppression. Think Black Panthers, not TikTok tankies.

But here’s the catch:

America isn’t ripe for revolution. Not yet. And we’re up against the most bloated, surveilled, militarized empire in history.

So while “armed cells” sounds bold, it’s also a neon sign flashing “federal indictment.” Strategy matters. So does survival. We can’t fight for a future if we’re locked up before we build anything.

Mutual Aid + Cadres as Vanguard

This part is gold. Mutual aid isn’t charity–it’s infrastructure. It’s food banks when the state fails, rent support when capitalism crushes, first aid when cops won’t help. When you pair that with politically trained organizers (cadres), you start building a base that can actually resist–not just survive.

This isn’t the sexy part of revolution. It’s slow, often invisible. But it works

Re-education

Not brainwashing. Just unlearning the shit we’ve absorbed living under capitalism

That billionaires deserve to rule.
That America is a force for good.
That our only power lies in voting every four years and complaining online the rest of the time.

Re-education means study groups. Memes. Teach-ins. Dismantling propaganda with actual history (I recommend Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States, which I will be reviewing once I finish.) Turning alienation into understanding and understanding into action.

Independent Political Action

Translation: Stop begging Democrats to save us.

This isn’t about throwing elections to the fascists. It’s about building real alternatives. Tenant unions. Worker co-ops. Local campaigns that aren’t bankrolled by the same people gutting your town.

We can’t beat capitalism by playing its game. We need to flip the board.

Anti-Imperialism

This one gets ignored the most.

You can’t fight for justice at home and ignore what your country does abroad. Every bomb dropped, every coup backed, every sanction enforced–it’s part of the same system. Anti-imperialism is not a side quest. It’s the heart of the fight.

So … now what?

You don’t have to be ready to go full Che Guevara in a balaclava. Most people aren’t. But if you feel the rot of this system in your gut, you are ready to do something.

Start local. Start small.

Join or start a mutual aid group.
Host a study group.
Disrupt your comfort zone.
Organize outside of parties that profit off your despair.
Connect with people who want more than reform.
Learn security culture–because if shit gets serious, you’ll need it.

And keep asking: What am I willing to risk? What am I willing to build?

Revolution isn’t a mood. It’s a movement. And movements need more than slogans.

They need people willing to do the work even the unsexy parts.

Even the dangerous ones.

Review of The Conquest of Bread

I just finished reading anarcho-communist Peter Kropotkin’s The Conquest of Bread, and it was like stepping out of the haze of despair and into a blueprint for a different world, a world that doesn’t just rage against capitalism but offers a vision for what should replace it. Kropotkin didn’t just theorize revolution, he laid out the bones of a society built on mutual aid, voluntary cooperation, and the abolition of property as power. For someone like me–driven by a mix of anti-capitalism, misanthropic fire, and a stubborn belief that another world has to be possible–this book hit hard.

Kropotkin’s critique of capitalism goes beyond the surface-level arguments I was used to. He attacked not just the exploitation of labor, but the entire premise that anyone should hoard the means of survival while others suffer. He makes a moral argument without falling into moralism. It’s pragmatic and humane all at once. What stood out to me most was his insistence that revolution must not merely destroy but create. Bread first. Housing next. Then libraries, education, beauty. He reminds us that revolution must be immediate and sustaining.

Before reading the book, I knew I was an anti-capitalist, but I didn’t yet know how to articulate much of a vision. I leaned toward libertarian socialism, distrusted hierarchy, and wanted action, not just analysis. Kropotkin didn’t just validate those instincts; he gave them clarity. He fused my longing for direct action with a plan that doesn’t rely on state power. He made me think bigger: not just about resisting capitalism, but building the scaffolding of its replacement in our daily lives.

The book also sharpened my skepticism of so-called progressive compromises. Kropotkin pulls no punches in calling out the failure of reformism and electoralism. He gave me permission to imagine what happens after the collapse; how to build networks, systems, and support structures that don’t mirror the oppressive systems we fight.

Reading the book didn’t convert me; it confirmed me. It hardened my resolve to fight for socialism in a way that isn’t just about changing who’s in charge but about ending the very idea of bosses altogether. It reminded me that the chaos I crave isn’t destruction for its own sake. It’s the fertile ground where something better can grow.

The Real Terrorists Have Offices

Let’s get one thing straight: the United States isn’t a benevolent empire. It never has been. It didn’t “spread democracy” to Iraq, Afghanistan, or Vietnam. It didn’t “liberate” anyone when it installed dictators across Latin America or propped up apartheid in South Africa. What it did do–and still does–is colonize, exploit, and annihilate in the name of profit.

This isn’t ancient history. It’s currently happening. It’s the drone strikes that don’t make the news. It’s the “aid” packages that comes with strings attached and private contractors waiting in the wings. It’s military bases dotting the globe like pimples of power on every continent but Antarctica.

I’m anti-imperialist because I don’t believe any nation has the moral authority to dominate another. Especially not through force, especially not under the smokescreen of “freedom.” American imperialism wears many disguises: NGOs, trade agreements, coups, color revolutions, Hollywood, but underneath, it’s always the same face: power backed by violence.

I’m anti-colonial because the world is still bleeding from wounds inflicted by white supremacy and extraction-based economies. Colonization didn’t end with flags being lowered. It evolved into debt traps, resource plunder, and forced dependency. Look at how the Global South is treated when it tries to resist. Look at how indigenous people in the so-called “developed world” are still pushed off their land for pipelines and lithium mines.

And I’m absolutely anti-military industrial complex because we spend trillions every year not on health, not on housing, not on education, but on weapons, surveillance, and endless wars. The Pentagon is the world’s biggest polluter. Raytheon, Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, these are the real welfare queens, sucking on our tax dollars to build machines that blow up brown children in countries most Americans can’t find on a globe or a map.

And we’re told to be proud of this.

We’re told this is “defense.” That’s Orwellian doublespeak. You don’t “defend freedom” with cluster bombs and occupation. You defend it by dismantling the systems that profit from bloodshed.

To be anti-imperialist today is to be a threat to bipartisan consensus. Democrats and Republicans alike bow to the altar of militarism. They clap in unison for war budgets, while telling us there’s no money for universal healthcare. The only thing they agree on is that endless war is good business.

But some of us aren’t buying it anymore.

We’re organizing. We’re protesting. We’re resisting not just war, but the machinery that makes war possible. That means opposing U.S. hegemony, standing in solidarity with liberation movements worldwide, and rejecting the normalization of violence as policy.

The empire has no clothes. And it’s time more of us said so … loudly