via Nonprofit Quarterly

On Election Day, New York City didn’t just elect a new mayor. Voters opened the door to a deeper transformation—what I call a municipal revolution. Zohran Mamdani’s victory, powered by nearly 100,000 volunteers and the largest voter turnout in 50 years, demonstrated that economic populism centered on meeting material needs can build multiracial and multigenerational coalitions capable of defeating entrenched political machines. For the first time in generations, a democratic socialist who openly challenges corporate power will occupy Gracie Mansion.

Yet from a radical municipalist perspective, this electoral triumph raises a fundamental question: Will this campaign lead to genuine democratic and economic transformation, or will it follow the trajectory of past progressive victories?

Take, for example, Barack Obama’s election as president in 2008, which saw grassroots energy dissipate subsequently into institutional channels. The distinction here matters enormously. The notion of radical municipalism is not only about electing better people to existing offices, but fundamentally restructuring power itself.

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How a 50-year-old Idea by Huey P. Newton Helps Us Build a New World 50 Years Hence

By Yvonne Yen Liu, Dollars & Sense, November/December 2024, 50th-Anniversary Issue

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Across North America, our movements continue to wrestle with the concept of intercommunalism, whether explicitly named or not, in how we think about building popular power in the twilight of empire. The concept refers to how communities are interconnected across the globe, through either internationalism from above or from below. Although political philosopher and Black Panther Party founder Huey P. Newton formulated the idea over 50 years ago, it continues to hold relevance to how we understand the historical moment and our role in fomenting revolution. This essay is a mixtape, sampling personal conversations I’ve had, to think through questions we’ve been puzzling over in our Los Angeles experiment in intercommunalism. I dedicate this mixtape to my mentor, Muntu Matsimela, who was the first to teach me about the idea.

Muntu and I met through listener activism with a local radio station affiliated with the Pacifica Network in New York City in the early 2000s. There was a quarter of a century difference in age between us. He was a veteran of the Third World revolutionary movements of the 1960s and 1970s, and a former member of the Black Panther Party and the Black Liberation Army. My generation was politicized by the Battle of Seattle in 1999, the first upsurge in the aftermath of the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union. His movements were organized hierarchically, led by a sometimes clandestine, central committee. Mine were decentralized and horizontal; individuals were organized into affinity clusters and deliberated in public assemblies.

I think Muntu tried to find common political ground between us by sharing the concept of intercommunalism with me. In addition to teaching me about it, he also instructed me on the difference between a friend and a comrade. A friend, he said, was someone who has your back. That’s not always the case with comrades. He was a heavyset middle-aged Black man, his shoulders drooped with a lifetime of disappointments. He had large black eyes that always seemed to me to be on the verge of filling with tears.

Track 1: “The Harder They Come” by Jimmy Cliff (1972)
The theory of intercommunalism was developed by Newton in 1970, and first published in 1974, soon after he was released from solitary confinement. He offered to send Black Panthers to Vietnam to help fight against the United States and was disappointed by the critical response from comrades in the Black liberation movement.

In his defense, he wrote in an open letter to a critic, “America is World Enemy #1 and the military is its strong arm. We feel that it is imperative upon us to defend people of color when they are attacked by troops in this land, and it’s also imperative to defend people of color when they are attacked by American troops in other lands.”

He proposed two formulations of intercommunalism that dominated the world system: one was reactionary, the other revolutionary. We are familiar with the forms of reactionary intercommunalism from the past 50 years: transnational corporations and finance capital rule the world, while nation-states skulk around in their shadow. We also know this as neoliberalism. The long 20th century and the beginning of the 21st was the age of empire, one in its death throes but still breathing fire while gasping its death rattle.

The other form of intercommunalism was revolutionary. In this vision, one we can aspire to in the next 50 years, we liberate our local communities by establishing alternative polities and economies based on the logic of cooperation and mutual aid. We seize the means of production, material and immaterial, and create new regimes of knowledge and understanding. Over time, according to Newton, a new form of subjectivity emerges—about ourselves and about each other—when “people will not only control the productive and institutional units of society, but they will also have seized possession of their own subconscious attitudes toward these things.”

This qualitative change, for Newton, marks the beginning of the transition from revolutionary intercommunalism into communism. “For the first time in history, [the people] will have a more rather than less conscious relationship to the material world,” he wrote, “They will have power, that is, they will control the phenomena around them and make it act in some desired manner, and they will know their own real desires.”

Track 2: “Guerilla Radio” by Rage Against the Machine (1999)
On a street corner in my neighborhood of El Sereno, a working-class community in Northeast Los Angeles, sits a refrigerator. The outside is brightly painted with a mural of monarch butterflies fluttering between stalks of corn. For Roberto Flores, the founder of the Zapatista-inspired community center Eastside Café that the fridge sits in front of, it is a symbol of the material infrastructure and values of the new world we are trying to build.

“A young, unhoused man this morning made sure to thank me for the food and the refrigerator,” Flores told me. “He intuitively knows what we’re trying to do: We are taking care of each other, we are magnifying values and practices, and not teaching people.” He added, “Similar to Huey, we are talking about local autonomy everywhere and connected , because what’s left for capital if all the communities are autonomous?”

Since 2022, we’ve gathered autonomous social movement actors across the City of Angels into a decentralized network, which we named Los Angeles for All. Our hypothesis is that Los Angeles is ready for its municipalist moment: to build an alternative polity and economy that is directly democratic, and will eclipse the current regime of reactionary intercommunalism. We have been growing alternatives wherever we can and fighting to shrink the status quo so we can transition power and resources to direct democracy and the solidarity economy.being democratically con.

We have also been convening a Los Angeles People’s Movement Assembly but quickly scaled to the level of the city without first building a base in neighborhoods. Although we have brought Angelenos together for the past three years across race, class, and neighborhoods to create a new movement culture, we have not been growing in size and scale. Subjectively, we are not shifting hearts and minds. And we haven’t changed material conditions for people on the ground. In charting our way forward, what lessons can we draw from Newton?

Track 3: “A Love Supreme” by John Coltrane (1965)
I posed this question to Richard Feldman of the James and Grace Lee Boggs Center, a base building organization in Detroit, Mich., who replied, “Empires dissolve, are overthrown, or replaced,” Feldman told me. “We don’t know what humans will become in the next 50 years and asking questions that pose answers locks us into feudalism, socialism, and communism.” What made Newton and civil rights and labor activist philosopher Grace Lee Boggs prescient, according to Feldman, is that they were revolutionaries who were asking questions, not trying to prove a theory.

Perhaps our hopes for the next 50 years can be found in love. Former Black Panther Ericka Huggins said in our panel on intercommunalism on Valentine’s Day earlier this year that everything in the Black Panther Party was based on the ethic of love. According to Newton, “revolutionary love” is the process by which liberated territories, separated by geography and culture, find “common cause” with one another and build solidarity and camaraderie against the global sprawl of reactionary intercommunalism.

Michael Hardt, author of Empire with Antonio Negri, calls this the multitude or a “multiplicity of people with differences who can act politically.” What we can stretch towards together is a new understanding of the common, where private property relations are abolished. If we base ourselves as the common or the multitude on love, our struggles broaden beyond the working class. Our revolution will include, as Newton said in 1971, the struggles of the bigger we. Together, we can move forward toward a post-capitalist future.

Track 4: “The World is Yours” by Nas (1994)
What does this mean for our experiment in Los Angeles? Los Angeles for All spent the past six months in hiatus, evaluating our assumptions and how they informed our strategy to launch a citywide assembly. We are emerging from our hibernation to focus on developing the Los Angeles common, starting with liberating land. There are unprecedented opportunities right now, as publicly owned land is being made available for housing development at the city, county, and state level. Almost a quarter of the offices in Los Angeles are empty with hybrid and remote work becoming the new normal post-pandemic.

Our city needs a better solution that recognizes that we can’t banish people that, we can’t provide housing for to jails . We also need a prefigurative solution that is reparative, trauma-informed, democratic, and affirms our humanity. I believe that our city is ready for a radical municipalist vision of collectively owned and managed, cooperative, and social housing. We have vacant housing and land, we have a lavish amount of funds allocated to policing the unhoused, and we have the political will of Angelenos for a decent and regenerative solution. I think Newton, and my friend and comrade Muntu, would approve.

Yvonne Yen Liu is the co-founder and executive director of Solidarity Research Center, a worker self-directed nonprofit that builds solidarity economy ecosystems. She is based in Los Angeles, Calif.

This mixtape is a tribute to my friend and my comrade, Muntu Matsimela (1950–2017), who is interred at Hart Island in the Bronx.

Sources: Michael Hardt, “About Love,” European Graduate School Video Lectures, 2007 (youtube.com); Huey P. Newton, “Intercommunalism,” Viewpoint Magazine, 1974 (viewpointmag.com); Huey P. Newton, “Resolutions and Declarations: December 5, 1970,” To Die for the People: The Writings of Huey P. Newton, edited by Toni Morrison (Vintage, 1972); Huey P. Newton, “Reply to Roy Wilkins re: Vietnam: September 26, 1970,” in To Die for the People, edited by Toni Morrison (City Lights Books, 2020); Huey P. Newton, “The Women’s Liberation and Gay Liberation Movements: August 15, 1970,” The Huey P. Newton Reader, edited by David Hillard and Donald Weise (Seven Stories, 2002); Municipalism Learning Series, “Intercommunalism,” Solidarity Research Center, February 14, 2024 (municipalism.org/intercommunalism); The Huey P. Newton Foundation, “The Heart of Huey Newton” (open.spotify.com/playlist/0zaFrYzm6lnyjXGAwAaNuN).

via STAT

By Andrea Flynn and Yvonne Yen Liu

Lawmakers in California may finally offer a raise to the state’s woefully underpaid health care workforce. The legislature is debating a bill introduced by state Sen. María Elena Durazo that would raise the minimum wage for a wide range of health care workers to $25 per hour by June 1, 2025.

This would be especially beneficial to Black women, who are disproportionately represented in the health care sector — particularly in the lowest-paying jobs. The passage of the bill would provide a much needed and deserved income boost for employees throughout the health sector: from nurses to janitors and food service workers, and for employees of hospitals, nursing facilities, dialysis centers and other organizations. Researchers from the University of California, Berkeley Labor Center predict the bill would affect 469,000 to 1.5 million workers.

This bill would make a significant impact on the ability of Black women and their families to afford the exorbitant costs of living in one of the country’s most expensive states. Research from The Maven Collective — a progressive think tank we both work for that centers race and gender in its pursuit of economic justice — shows that in Alameda, Contra Costa, Los Angeles, Riverside, San Francisco, and San Bernardino counties, the health care sector is the second most common field for households headed by Black women. Health care support jobs in the six counties have a median pay of approximately $3,000 per month (before taxes). This is far less than what the costs of covering basic needs are. In San Francisco, for example, our research shows that housing costs more than $3,000 monthly, and child care adds another $3,000. In fact, a family of two adults and two children (one preschooler and one school-age child) would need to earn more than $12,000 per month to keep up with living costs.

This single bill won’t cure the affordability crisis, but it’s an important step toward acknowledging the value and dignity of these workers who hold up our economy and our families. In addition to being the right thing to do, it’s also the smart thing to do. Research shows that higher wages reduce turnover, which results in better outcomes and experiences for patients. For instance, a 2018 study reported that a 10 percentage point increase in nurse turnover in nursing homes resulted in an 8.3% to 17.4% increase in deaths. And research done during the pandemic suggests that high turnover among nurses in nursing homes might have led to increased rates of mortality.

This bill is unique because it not only includes workers directly employed by health companies, but also “all paid work performed on the premises of any health care facility.” There is ample evidence that Black women working within the health care sector are relegated to the most physically demanding and dangerous jobs such as home health care workers and nurses’ aides. These jobs — which are among the lowest paying and offer little or even no benefits — take a toll on workers’ bodies. Research shows that home health care workers have some of the highest rates of occupational injury in the country.

The bill would increase costs for health care facilities, but those increased costs in wages would be offset by savings in other areas like staff turnover and declines in the reliance on safety net programs. The UC Berkeley Labor Center estimates the higher wages will result in a median 3.2% change in operating costs, with variations across different types of facilities. Hospitals — some of the most vocal opponents of the bill — would see an increase in operating costs of just 1.1%, while home health services will see a 11.6% increase in operating costs. That’s because home health workers are among the lowest paid workers in the state and therefore their increase in pay would be larger than that of many other workers.

By the policy’s third year, when hourly wages reach the full $25, it is estimated that the state budget would see anywhere from $467 million in net savings to $303 million in net costs. Where the state lands on this range depends on the level of state increases to Medi-Cal provider payments, along with the number of workers and dependents who move onto private insurance.

This bill — which passed the state Senate on May 31 and will be heard by the Assembly’s Labor and Employment Committee on July 12 — is an effort to prioritize people over profits. Yes, it will cost money. It should. It’s time we decide to reallocate profits to the workers holding up our health system. This would be precedent-setting for the rest of the country and potentially pressure other states to follow suit. Increasing wages increases in the health sector more broadly would be transformative. People of color represent 58% of nursing assistants, 63% of home health aides, and 52% of residential care aides. However, they only make up 39% of the labor force. In 2021 the median hourly wage for home health aides and personal care aides in California was just over $14; for certified nurse assistants the median hourly wage was $18. Among Black and Latina workers in these direct care positions, roughly half made less than $15 an hour. A $25 minimum wage would be a significant step in the right direction for these workers.

via Ms Magazine

by DR. ZEA MALAWA and YVONNE YEN LIU

On this Labor Day, let’s consider the two meanings of the word. On the one hand, there is the original labor exerted by our mothers when we were brought into this world. On the other, there is the often invisible work that our mothers provided in raising us. So often, it was our mothers who stayed with us when we were sick, who held us when we were hurting, who made sure we were fed, warm and safe. Mothers are the essential workers for our families and communities—so this Labor Day, we are compelled to think about the many ways our leaders and policies are currently failing this country’s mothers.

Too many mothers, especially mothers of color, cannot access what they need to take care of themselves and their families. A mother from the Abundant Birth Project, a guaranteed income program in San Francisco targeting Black and Pacific Islander mothers, noted: “If you’re making minimum wage to support a family of four or five, it just don’t make no sense … I can still get denied benefits.”

Stagnant wages in the face of rising costs mean that even mothers with jobs are not safe from financial catastrophe. The lack of paid medical and family leave has pushed mothers out of the workforce during the pandemic. Further, moms are punished and penalized by the very safety net programs intended to help them advance economically and socially. Blatant racism, lack of trust and centuries of unremedied exploitation threaten the well-being of mothers of color and their families everyday.

Data compiled by the Insight Center for Community Economic Development and the Abundant Birth Project shows us just how challenging it can be for mothers to make ends meet. These analyses build upon the Family Needs Calculator, an alternative measure of what families need to survive in California, and conclusions are clear: We must do more to protect the health of Black and Brown moms and their babies, and mothers deserve to be protected.

Enacting a guaranteed income is an important part of solving for this inequity. A guaranteed income, often confused with a universal basic income, proposes to give stipends targeted by income and need so that all pregnant people, children and families have the funds to meet their most essential needs—with their dignity and self-efficacy intact. Providing direct, unconditional cash aid is a bold step that not only demonstrates trust in women to make the right choices for themselves and their families, but also addresses the underlying stress of financial insecurity that is likely a key driver of premature birth, childhood trauma and maternal mortality.

When guaranteed income is provided to women of color, specifically moms, it undoubtedly leads to increased quality of life for Black and Brown mothers, their families and quite literally everyone they touch. What will the impact be on small businesses when more families have cash to spend? How will our schools thrive when more parents are no longer living hand-to-mouth and can share their time and perspectives with PTAs? What will our country’s future look like when more families are stably housed and fed, and their children actually have the opportunity to reach their fullest potential?

Guaranteed income is critical to supporting the health, well-being and economic stability of its recipients and represents a prime opportunity to connect mothers with the financial resources necessary to disrupt inequitable outcomes in birth, education and beyond. It is time to eliminate the stigma and shame so many moms encounter when simply trying to access the resources they need to thrive and raise families with joy.

Last year’s expanded child tax credit is a prime example of how direct cash can work at scale—distributing monthly payments of up to $300 per child to nearly every parent in America, the policy allowed families to cover their basic needs, did not have any adverse employment effects and does not contribute to inflation. In fact, even moderate economists have called for this unrestricted cash program, whose ending led to a more than 40 percent spike in child poverty, as a critical tool for families to combat rising prices. Programs like the Magnolia Mother’s Trust, the Abundant Birth Project and The Bridge Project are showing in real time the generational impact of giving marginalized mothers a guaranteed income.

Everyday, in homes across the country, mothers are laboring to shape the next generation. Our collective future is in their hands. Policymakers must acknowledge mothers and the role they play in making our economy strong and resilient. The path to security, dignity and financial sovereignty for Black, Brown, Indigenous and immigrant mothers across this country starts with cash. By reinstating the expanded child tax credit and scaling guaranteed income programs that are caring for mothers, we have a unique opportunity to elevate mothers every day of the year.

ABOUT DR. ZEA MALAWA AND YVONNE YEN LIU

Nasruddin was a thirteenth-century Turkish mystic and philosopher who used humor to teach. David got hold of a book of Nasruddin’s tales in graduate school and would retell the stories to entertain us, over a dinner of dim sum, while walking in a protest march, or during an endless anarchist meeting.

I met David at my first such meeting in New York in 2001. The World Economic Forum announced that it was moving its annual meeting from Davos, Switzerland, to New York, ostensibly in solidarity with the tragedy the city had suffered on September 11. A group of students was organizing a rebuttal to the forum—a counter-summit of sorts—and I attended the gathering to connect with other activists. It was at Saint Mark’s Church in the East Village, a hub at the time of anarchist organizing. David was one of the few friendly faces there.

He was writing an ethnography about the direct action movement, he explained, and then proceeded to break down the culture and social hierarchy of the New York City anarchist scene. I was captivated. David inspired me to study anthropology and to pursue graduate school. He embodied the example of the scholar-activist, even if that wasn’t how Yale University felt. After being rejected for tenure, David moved abroad, and found work in England. Over the years, we stayed in touch sporadically.

I was gutted to learn that he passed away. I always thought I’d have another opportunity to share a meal, a story, or a laugh with him. I will remember him as our generation’s Nasruddin, mumbling a joke with his eyes twinkling.

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This essay is a part of the forum on Carving Out the Commons

Jorge Juan lives with his wife and two children in an apartment complex in the rapidly-gentrifying Westlake neighborhood of Los Angeles. A densely populated area – more than 100,000 people live in nearly three-square miles – Westlake has been the destination for immigrants from Mexico and Central America for many years.^[1] However, as the average rent for a studio increased from $1,782 to $2,600 in the neighborhood where most are renters, so has the Latinx population dropped from 74 to 68 percent from 1990 to 2015, based on the American Community Survey.

Juan’s family had their monthly rent increase from $950 to $1,350 – a 37 percent increase. Their household wasn’t alone; all tenants of the 192 units at 131, 143, and 171 South Burlington Avenue were told that their rent would increase by 25 to 40 percent. Juan told a reporter at L.A. Taco his concerns about his children who attended the elementary school across the street.^[2] “We just want them to learn and not be worried about a meal for tomorrow because all of our money is going to the rent.” The tenants started to collectively organize as a tenants association called Burlington Unidos, and decided to withhold rent until the owner addressed the inhabitable conditions plaguing the apartments: rats, roaches, bed bugs, sewage water leakage, and toxic mold. 92 tenants agreed to participate in the rent strike.

On a warm Friday evening in May 2018, members of Burlington Unidos gathered in a Craftsman house on a block lined with Jacaranda trees. Dishes of rice and beans were arranged on the kitchen table while children squirmed in their seats. About twenty adults – mostly tenants participating in the rent strike – sat on an assortment of folding chairs and benches in the living room. The tenants were gathered to learn about cooperative models where tenants purchased their buildings and converted them into tenant-controlled housing.

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About 30 truckers and 150 supporters rallied in front of SSA’s terminals at the Port of Oakland yesterday. The truckers formed a picket line in time for the 7pm shift of ILWU longshorman. Unfortunately, ILWU Local 10 called the Oakland Police to stand guard in front of the rally, to protect the ILWU members who crossed the picket line. The SSA terminal was not shut down.

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Mothers working in restaurants face numerous challenges balancing their precarious work, for which some earn subminimum wages, with little to no child support.  Mothers must also work an unpredictable “third shift,” thanks to the erratic schedules endemic to our new service economy.  Working mothers are a floating and flexible workforce, always on call, without any control over their jobs or their hours.

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When the Great Recession sank its fangs into the veins of this country on December 2007, for the first time, millions of white people woke to a different world. Unemployment and poverty are not unfamiliar bedfellows to people of color: Black unemployment has been at least double that of the rate for whites from 1973 to 2009; while Latinos were 1.5 times more likely to be unemployed than whites for 28 out of the 37 years. The white middle class wasn’t able to get a job or pay their mortgage or healthcare bills.

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