The U.S. behaves as if it will always be on top of the world. Its leaders once knew that nothing lasts forever.

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By: Stanley Fogg

This report is based on the transcript of Notes from Inside the Siege: A Report from Frontline Resisters in the Twin Cities. It has been rewritten and condensed for clarity, while remaining true to its substance and content, standing as a testament to the texture and experience of the eve of the general strike. The piece uses alias names and places to preserve the anonymity of those on the frontline in Minneapolis.

Facilitator:

… We’re going to kick it off with a conversation with a few members that are out there in the streets fighting directly, rapid response activists that are keeping their ear to the ground, paying attention to what’s going on and getting there as quickly as possible. 

Why don’t we start by having people introduce themselves—who you are, and what brings you to the call tonight?

Former Baggage Handler:

I’ve been in Minneapolis for about thirty-five years. Thirty of those I spent as a baggage handler—Northwest Airlines first, then Delta. We lost our union back in 2000, and I’ve been trying to build it back ever since. That work never really stopped. I’ve been involved in the union movement for a long time, and more recently in the workers actions around January 23rd. 

Alongside that, I’ve been doing rapid response—showing up where needed, protecting churches where people go to get food, places ICE has been targeting. It’s all connected. Labor. Survival. Defense.

Teachers Unionist

We’re organizing because we believe capitalism is the root problem. Not one of the problems—the problem. It’s what’s producing the conditions we’re living under right now. And we believe another system is possible. But that doesn’t happen without workers resisting. The front line has to be the multiracial working class—hourly workers, regular people, the ones who actually keep everything running. They don’t just need to be included in this fight. They need to be leading it.

I’m an Educational Support Professional in Saint Paul Public Schools. I’m part of a fighting union. We signed on to the strike actions—not school walkouts, but coordinated resistance: don’t work, don’t shop. And I’m proud of that. I’m proud to be in that union. A lot of my siblings are in the room tonight, and that matters to me. It really does.

Facilitator:

I want to pause on something you said—about being excited. Because it’s important that people on this call hear this clearly: even in the middle of despair, there is a thread of hope running through this moment. What we’re seeing is people gathering, choosing solidarity, showing up for each other in real ways. And that matters—not just here, but across the country. Yes, this is serious. Yes, the stakes are high. But there is also love here. There is community being built in real time. People are recognizing a shared struggle and choosing to face it together. That kind of solidarity is rare, and it’s powerful. And the response we’re seeing—the speed, the care, the courage—is inspiring people far beyond Minnesota. There is real power coming out of this state right now. Real energy. And it’s having an impact nationally.I want to name that. And I want to thank you for it.

Parent Organizer

My name is — and I’m the sanctuary school team lead for Moonlight Palace High School through Minneapolis Families for Public Schools. It’s a parent organization, and it’s grown fast. At this point, we’re talking about two to three thousand parents across the district, connected to roughly fifty schools. What began as a loose network is now a structure.

We run patrols. We have a mutual aid arm that’s active now—food support, rent support, and other forms of direct assistance. I’ll speak more about that as the night goes on. Outside of this work, I’m also a professor and a writer. But here, I’m speaking as a parent. And as a parent, it’s terrifying. I have a ninth grader and a second grader. The idea of ICE engaging with your children—or anyone’s children—at school or near a school is something that sits in your body. It doesn’t leave. That fear is what pushed us to move quickly.

We built a rapid response patrol group. We use encrypted communication—secure platforms—because safety matters at every level. This isn’t symbolic. It’s operational.

When she speaks, there’s a pause before each sentence, as if she’s confirming that what she’s about to say is real. As if she’s still checking whether this is all a nightmare. And then, as she continues, her voice steadies. The picture sharpens.

The groups are large—really large. Some focus on commuting, others on dispatching, coordination, logistics. It’s layered. Distributed. Intentional. And it’s happening because it must.

The patrols around the schools were the first thing to move. Once the surge hit in December, that was where the energy went immediately. Teachers stepped in, families stepped in, and the reason it worked is because the relationships were already there. Minneapolis Families for Public Schools had been aligned with educators through the contract negotiations that had just wrapped—smaller class sizes, stronger support for ESPs, special education resources, the real material conditions that make schools function. We had stood together then, deliberately, and that mattered. Because when this new reality arrived—this crisis—we weren’t starting from zero. We weren’t introducing ourselves. We were already in a relationship, already trusted, already moving together.

The work doesn’t announce itself. It starts with noticing patterns—where time opens and closes, where people linger because they have no choice. Lunch periods. Bell changes. Crosswalks. Bus shelters. The ordinary choreography of a school day becomes a map of risk. ICE doesn’t need spectacle anymore. During a surge, they adjust. They pass slowly. They wait. They take. That knowledge changes how you look at a street. It turns attention into responsibility.

Sound became our language. The whistle is small, almost ridiculous, until you hear it echo. Until one becomes three, then ten. Until car horns answer. It’s not panic—it’s presence. A code that says: you are not alone, and you are not unseen. At that moment, the neighborhood wakes up. Windows open. Doors unlock. Fear loosens just enough to move.

The school became the spine of the response. It already held trust. It already held relationships. It already belonged to everyone. From there, everything branched out—patrols, calls, deliveries, rides. Mutual aid didn’t appear as an idea; it appeared as a necessity. Families stopped leaving their homes. Children stopped showing up. Silence became a signal.

The phone calls mattered. Someone asking, without judgment, what was needed. Food was the first answer. Always food. Then rent. Then utilities. Then transportation. The needs stacked faster than the resources, but the asking itself cracked something open. Two hundred families said yes—not because they wanted help, but because there was no other option left.

Pairing people changed everything. Ally families matched with families under threat. Not institutions helping clients, but neighbors helping neighbors. Hyper-local. A block away. A knock at the door. Bags of food carried by hand. Frequency mattered more than quantity. Showing up once wasn’t enough. This was about continuity. About proving that help wasn’t temporary.

Money complicates things. It always does. Protecting teachers meant rerouting responsibility. Parents stepping forward. Funds moved carefully, deliberately. Food first, because hunger can’t wait. Rent next, because eviction erases everything else. The numbers sounded large until they met reality. Ninety thousand dollars barely dents the need. Systems weren’t built for people without paperwork. Aid requires time. Time is the one thing people don’t have.

Transportation became another frontline. Parents were being taken at pickup and drop-off—moments meant to be safe. So rides were organized. Names were logged. Trust was formalized. In some schools, parents walked children who weren’t theirs, because safety had become communal. In buildings where most families are targeted, attendance itself became an act of resistance.

None of this is clean. None of it is finished. There are rules we’re still learning, barriers we’re still hitting, nights when the math doesn’t work. But there is movement. There is coordination. There is care that refuses to be abstract. What holds it together isn’t ideology—it’s proximity. The fact that we live here. That these are our children. That disappearance is not theoretical.

This is what it looks like when people accept that no one is coming—and decide to stay anyway.

That just gives you sort of the window into what’s going on here. 

Facilitator:

You mentioned witnessing people being taken—kidnapped. For many of us, this is something we only see on a screen. Can you speak to the emotional terror of witnessing that in your own community? Not even being the one taken, but seeing it happen to your neighbors. What does that do to a person? What kind of insecurity does it introduce into your life?

Parent Organizer:

Last Saturday morning, my dog woke me up. She heard a noise outside. I live in what’s now the epicenter of ICE activity in the Twin Cities, it’s 6:40 a.m. I looked out my window. I heard them before I saw them—two agents, laughing. Then, I saw them handcuffing two of my neighbors.

I couldn’t see who they were. There were two cars parked outside. And immediately I knew—because by then I understood how fast they work—that they had already been there too long. I wasn’t fully awake. I was in my pajamas. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could, grabbed my phone, and told myself: don’t stop, don’t think, don’t put on a jacket. It was freezing. I just put on my slippers and ran out into the snow and ice because I knew I had to document whatever I could—photos, video, anything.

The second they saw me, they shoved the people into the car and sped off. I thought I hadn’t gotten anything useful, but I did catch the license plate on one of the cars. I sent it immediately to the large rapid response group in my area.

At any given time, there are probably eight hundred to a thousand people on that thread. And they’re serious. Within two minutes, they responded. They confirmed it: this was an abduction. These were the details. They ran the plates—because they have a database—and told me those agents had been terrorizing the neighborhood since 6 a.m. They were already gone. They were now in another neighborhood.

Because I posted, two neighbors came to my house about an hour later. I hadn’t met them before. We talked. I had to be honest—I’m tapped out. I have a full-time job. I’m already organizing at multiple levels. I can’t take on block organizing too. But just knowing each other mattered. Being on the same page mattered. Knowing where each other lives mattered.

More than a week later, those same neighbors contacted me again. They asked if I had any new information. They still didn’t know who had been taken or where they were. That’s another layer of terror. The disappearance doesn’t end when the car drives away. It lingers. It expands.

The other case—I don’t know. I hope they’re okay. I truly don’t know where they are. With how fast people are being moved, they could already be out of the country. And then just yesterday we learned that a man from Minnesota died in a detention center in Texas. So this isn’t theoretical. It’s fatal.

In early December, I witnessed my first abduction just sitting at a traffic light near a transit stop. It completely shattered me. I was crying. I was a mess. I remember telling people that day: I’m just going to be a mess today because I can’t process this yet.

That’s what it does. It breaks your sense of safety instantly. And once that breaks, it never fully comes back.

She continued:

It is like this uh, this sense of reality that we have just has got to be just instantly shattered and then you move into this new world where things that you took for granted,like “you don’t have to watch your back” are no longer true any more. 

Facilitator:

You mentioned politicians trying to help, and in doing so putting themselves in positions of heightened risk. One of the things we do as a working class is something different: we take that risk and distribute it. We spread it across the population so no single person is fully exposed, and so the most vulnerable people carry no risk at all. We hold that risk together. And there’s no other way to do this. That’s the power of working people.

That’s where the inspiration comes from. That’s where the solidarity comes from. That’s where the positive energy you spoke about at the beginning of the call actually lives—seeing that power in motion. It’s the power that’s been taken away from us. Sometimes it’s power we’ve given up willingly. 

But it’s also the power that can save us, if we stay on this path—if we keep unlocking these connections, building these networks, learning how to communicate securely, and spreading information through decentralized systems. You’re right: nobody is coming to save us. But we do have the power to save each other.

[The Facilitator turned to the Teachers Unionist] You mentioned that one of the things that inspired you most through all of this was watching different groups come together—coalescing, overlapping, taking action in ways no one person, no one organization, and no single group could have accomplished alone. Can you talk about what you’ve seen and experienced in that cross-group solidarity?

Teachers Unionist:

Thank you so much for that description, because honestly, one of the most inspiring things I’ve experienced in the last couple of weeks is how fast everything has shifted. Renée Good was murdered less than two weeks ago, and it feels like the city has completely changed.

Minneapolis remembers the uprising. We learned a lot then—about what worked, and about what we needed to do better. When the uprising happened after the murder of George Floyd, the infrastructure we’re relying on now simply didn’t exist yet. And I think one reason it does exist now, and why it’s developing so quickly, is because we’ve already been through COVID and the uprising together.

That collective experience changed people.

After George Floyd was murdered, a lot of folks felt the energy disappeared. I spent time at Floyd Square, and there was real disappointment. People would say, Where did everyone go? Hobbyist protesters showed up at the beginning, but then there was this sense of abandonment. But the truth is—they didn’t disappear. They’re here now. They learned how to recommit. They learned how to stay with the work.

The night Renée Good was killed, people walked. Everyone walked. In droves. Thousands and thousands of people moved toward the place where she died. There were probably ten thousand people standing in the streets. It was freezing cold. People were holding candles. There were speeches. The crowd was so large that someone could speak on one side of the space and a chant would rise somewhere else and ripple across in waves. It was enormous.

As a socialist, that moment mattered to me. We need a mass movement. People had been comfortable for a long time. Now we’re not. That’s a terrible thing. It’s painful and destabilizing. But it’s also what pulled us together.

The Saturday after Renée was killed, there was another march that lasted for hours. I don’t even know how many thousands of people were there. The only thing that felt comparable was the march to the Third Precinct the day after George Floyd was killed.

After that march, we were invited to a rapid response and patrol meeting at [Teacher Unionist]’s house. Thirty people showed up—people we had never met before. What we shared was geography, a deep hatred of ICE, and a commitment to decency for everyone in this city. That mattered.

Her voice glimmered with hope:

What inspires me most is seeing how all these different networks are forming and overlapping. There’s a rapid response network tracking license plates. A mutual aid network delivering food. Patrol groups. Parent networks. All these pods coming together into a larger ecosystem. It makes me believe we can actually do this—because we’re drawing on everyone’s intelligence and solving real problems together.

At my school, we’re trying to replicate what Minneapolis Public Schools built with their parent network. That network was instrumental in winning the contract—parent pressure really matters. As [Teachers Unionist] said, schools are the heart and soul of our communities. Even though they aren’t always open gathering spaces, they still anchor everything.

Another crucial part of this emerging ecosystem—especially around the day of action on the 23rd, the no school, no work, no shopping action—has been faith communities. They’ve stepped into a central role. Faith spaces can open their doors. People can gather there. You don’t have to worship. You don’t have to agree. But the space itself matters, and many of these communities want to lend themselves to the movement.

So yes—I feel inspired. It’s horrifying, as she said. It feels like living in a war zone. You can’t carry on as usual. The holidays happened during an ICE occupation. It was surreal to be celebrating under those conditions.

It’s inspiring. It’s scary. But if it weren’t this scary, we wouldn’t be where we are now. And we’re learning—fast—how to organize for the long fight, how to take on something this big together.

And to your point about being able to pick up organizing tactics that we’re working with another group of teachers in terms of establishing the parent network, that’s what we’re organizing and that’s what connects. 


That’s the power that it unlocks. It allows a good idea to spread and it allows a bad idea to get squashed really fast and move amongst a lot of people. And, you know, do you mention dealing with the George Floyd protests and, you know, these things are all things that have prime to the population of Minnesota to be more prepared for these events than, say, members in my community, where for us this is an event that’s occurring on TV. 
You know, it’s not something that’s directly impacted our lives, but I know that there’s many members in my community that care and that want to be ready.

Being able to access this information and being able to build these networks, it gives working people, it gives people all across the country a fighting chance. When ICE comes to their city, they will have heard from the people of Minnesota about what works and what doesn’t work, about the things that they need to do to get ready.

Facilitator:

For a lot of people, January 7th—the day Renée Good was shot and killed by an ICE agent in Minneapolis—was the first time they really started paying attention to what’s happening here. That killing was captured on video, spread quickly nationwide, and became a flashpoint—drawing comparisons to past police violence in this city and igniting protests locally and across the country.

What many people don’t realize is that you all were already deep in this fight long before that date. You weren’t reacting to a headline—you were living it: raids, rapid escalation of enforcement, daily intimidation in neighborhoods, schools, transit stops, churches, workplaces. The assault on immigrant communities in the Twin Cities had been intensifying since December, weeks before the killing drew national attention.

So when people started to see that tragic shooting and then saw a large call for mass action emerge out of Minnesota—marches, rallies, neighborhood patrols, mutual aid networks—that was not spontaneous from nowhere. It was the culmination of weeks of ground work, community boundary-setting, relationship building, and existing networks already in motion. You had already been organizing patrols, rapid response groups, support circles, union connections, parent groups, educators, neighbors checking on each other’s blocks, legal observers on the ground. That infrastructure made it possible for a broader moment to take shape.

That’s what people are trying to understand now: how a community under assault turned around, found voice and structure, and began to claim some measure of its own defense—not as an abstract idea but as actual living practice in the midst of fear, danger, and loss.

Can you talk a little bit more about what the process of transformation for the people was like?

Former Baggage Handler:

That’s a massive question—how people come together around mass action. How all these groups decide, publicly, that they’re going to do something together. For a lot of us, that’s new. It’s not how things usually happen.

Karen is here now—my comrade, my brother, a brilliant political and union leader—and we’ll bring him in soon. But honestly, if I’m being real about what’s driving this, it’s hatred. Not abstract hatred. Lived hatred.

I’m older. People my age—many of whom wouldn’t consider themselves radical—are out in the streets day after day chasing ICE vehicles, doing community patrols, protecting neighbors, existing in conditions where any one of those actions could get you killed. And if not killed, then pepper-sprayed, dragged out of your car, your window smashed, taken to the Whipple Federal Building, held for eight hours, humiliated, threatened. If you’re a citizen, you’re released. If not—who knows. That kind of intimidation is not rare. And people are still doing it.

Carl was the one who got me connected to marshaling in Saint Paul, when all nine high schools walked out. I used to be a school bus driver there. Those students synchronized their marches and met at the state capitol. There was almost no adult involvement. Just an enormous spirit.

The school I marshaled for had about a thousand students. Most of them were completely underdressed for the weather—but when you’re young, you don’t care. I tried to give gloves to a couple of them. One kid said, What do you think, you’re my dad? I said, No, I’m your granddad. Put the gloves on. And they did.

We marched through Main Street, shutting down major intersections. People stopped their cars. They cheered. They helped block traffic so no one could hurt the kids. I’ve never seen anything like it.

It’s the same thing she talked about with the whistles. You hear one, you run outside. Within a minute, thirty neighbors are there. Ten minutes later, if there’s a confrontation, two hundred people have shown up. It’s wild. Completely wild.

All of that pressure—all that anger, fear, frustration, and hatred—has fed into the unions, into the working class, into the broader population of the Twin Cities. As January 23rd gets closer, this is the conversation everywhere.

He continued:

People talk about structure tests—well, there are a million structure tests happening every day, in every way imaginable.

At some schools, it’s constant discussion among educators. At the airport, where I’m still connected to people, half the workforce is immigrant. They’re being harassed just trying to go to work. ICE has abducted people there. Some of these workers aren’t union. They’re calling in sick. And I want to name something important here: in Minnesota, we have the Earned Sick and Safe Time law. You can call in for one day without documentation. You can use it for mental health. And if you’re not stressed living in the Twin Cities right now, you’re not paying attention.

People should use it.

This is going to be successful. Because like any strike, you build up. You test. You climb the ladder. But this ladder has been steep—and nobody planned it. It’s like a car that started rolling on its own.

And that pressure has cracked open institutions that usually don’t move. The Minnesota State AFL-CIO—a pretty conservative operation—has endorsed January 23rd as a no work, no school, no shopping day. Teamsters Local 638—UPS drivers and warehouse workers—have endorsed it too. Their leadership is conservative. That tells you something.

ICE and Trump’s pressure on this region has fractured old relationships and forced people to connect horizontally. To build networks from the ground up. We’re still figuring out how to strengthen them, how to make them more effective—but they exist now.

We were talking earlier about the Insurrection Act, about martial law—not good things. But the reality is this: the Twin Cities now has a network that can withstand a lot.

That’s the bottom line.

We’re going to win.

Stanley Fogg, who reported on the Notes, is a contributing writer to Working Mass.

The post Inside Minneapolis: General Strike Tactics Under Siege appeared first on Working Mass.

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DSA must change to embrace the multi-racial working class — and avoid the historic mistakes of the U.S. Left.

The post Trump’s Attacks on People of Color are a Test for DSA appeared first on Democratic Left.

This past November, baristas turned up the heat in their campaign to unionize Starbucks by launching a nationwide multi-week strike to win a first union contract. Their escalation came after nearly four years of challenging shop-by-shop organizing across the country, Starbucks’ relentless union-busting tactics, numerous unfair labor practice violations filed against Starbucks at the National Labor Relations Board, and months of contract negotiations that brought the Unfair Labor Practice Strike that DSA has been supporting over the last 2 months.

DSA Los Angeles has been shoulder-to-shoulder with Starbucks workers in Los Angeles County for four years as they have worked meticulously to unionize stores across the region. The chapter has organized sip-ins, mass calls, panel discussions, and has turned out for rallies and pickets. Our consistent solidarity with Starbucks Workers United has helped the chapter build meaningful relationships with rank-and-file, member leaders, and staff organizers. These relationships and the trust that comes with them have been incredibly important during the ongoing strike, as DSA-LA has been the primary community partner supporting these striking baristas who are engaged in their longest work stoppage to date.

Over the last 2 months, DSA-LA members have walked the picket line at various stores, blocked delivery vehicles from making deliveries to Starbucks stores, and fed striking baristas throughout December with financial support from the Labor Solidarity Fund of DSA’s National Labor Commission. DSA-LA Socialists in Office, like City Councilmembers Eunisses Hernandez and Hugo Soto-Martinez, and LAUSD School Board member Dr. Rocío Rivas have been out walking the picket lines and rallying supporters during the strike, and DSA-LA-endorsed candidates like Marissa Roy, who is running for LA City Attorney, have used their platform to elevate a key action everyone can do to support Starbucks baristas: do not buy anything from Starbucks during the strike! 

Isabella S., a rank-and-file member of Starbucks Workers United and a DSA member, explains better than anyone the value and impact of DSA’s strike solidarity: 

Without community support much of our efforts as striking workers becomes moot. In order to effectively make change at Starbucks we need support from the community to pressure the company to return to the bargaining table by divesting their money from Starbucks and convincing others to not cross our picket line. DSA members have been among the most dedicated and inspiring supporters to join our picket. DSA-LA members help set up our picket, amplify our voices, and put into context what our actions are all about. Their support energizes me, makes me feel less alone, and demonstrates the power we can have if we show up as a community for each other. No one needs to struggle alone.

While in some areas across the country, Starbucks baristas have paused their strike activity and shifted to other tactics to advance the contract campaign, Los Angeles remains a key area for continuing the open-ended strike. As with any open-ended strike, there are challenges. Starbucks Workers United in Los Angeles is grappling with Starbucks escalating its use of scab labor at stores that have been shut down for nearly 2 months due to successful striking. This has meant that Starbucks baristas and DSA-LA have had to be flexible and adjust to changing dynamics on the ground, and explore additional tactics and avenues to bring the pressure on Starbucks to agree to the union contract that Starbucks baristas deserve. In January, a large contingent of Starbucks baristas went to the Los Angeles City Council to elevate their fight for a union contract and to demand that Los Angeles pass a Fair Work Week ordinance that includes workers at companies like Starbucks, Subway, Taco Bell, and other fast food chains that are often exempted from such ordinances. Councilmember Soto-Martinez, a DSA-LA Socialist in Office, is a proud champion for the ordinance Starbucks baristas are demanding in Los Angeles. 

With every week that goes by, it has been inspiring to see Starbucks baristas continue to take the bold and brave step of refusing to go to work until they are afforded the respect they deserve. These Starbucks baristas are in an open fight with a multi-national mega-corporation led by a greedy capitalist billionaire, and for that, their struggle is our struggle. DSA is proud to stand with Starbucks Workers United one day longer, one day stronger.

On December 6, 2025 on a partly cloudy morning when the sun was just starting to peek out and make itself known, community organizers and members from the Alliance of Californians for Community Empowerment (ACCE), SEIU locals United Service Workers West (USWW) and 221, San Diego DSA, Indivisible San Diego, and a significant number of other community and labor organizations did not gather at the usual protest spaces of Waterfront Park or the Edward J. Schwartz Federal Building. Instead we rallied in the heart of La Jolla, California— a high-end coastal enclave of luxury hotels, designer boutiques, and some of the most expensive homes in the county. In the curated scene of Ellen Browning Scripps Park, ACCE organizers in their signature yellow shirts filed into the park ready for a morning of chanting and marching. 

On this statewide day of action, 300 San Diegans proudly declared that the existing priority of “billionaires first” was unacceptable and we demanded an agenda of “People Over Billionaires.” Determined to not just be a crowd yelling at the clouds, we took the message right to their doorsteps. Neither La Jolla nor Ellen Browning Park were picked at random. In fact, the march route was carefully planned to ensure that the protest passed the home of the richest man in San Diego, Joe Tsai, founder of the AliBaba group and owner of several WNBA teams, as well as that of Andrew Viterbi, a co-founder of Qualcomm. While they try to insulate themselves from realities on the ground and the real life pain that they cause while enriching themselves, we decided to make ourselves heard, loud and proud.

A vibrant community space

Armed with yellow safety vests, flags, bullhorns, and inflatable costumes, community members from all over the county rallied around an impromptu stage and pop-up tents to hear speeches from community organizers working in a plethora of activist spaces from tenant organizing and labor unions to migrant rights and anti-surveillance work. Mariachi Cali scored the rally, performing familiar cultural anthems and providing customized intro and outro music for each speaker, transforming a manicured park into a vibrant community space.

After a number of speeches—including from Kyle Weinberg (director of the San Diego Educators Association), Ramla Sahid (Partnership for the Advancement of New Americans, representing the Transparent and Responsible Use of Surveillance Technology (TRUST) Coalition), and Tazheen Nizam (San Diego director of the Council on American Islamic Relations), it was time to take the streets. San Diego DSA had taken the initiative to provide safety marshals for this action, and after a quick but substantive safety brief with an SEIU 221 organizer the yellow vests were ready to take the streets. 

The route was only about two miles, starting on Girard Street right in front of Ellen Browning Park and up a small incline where our differently-abled comrades set the pace. We turned on to Prospect Street where stunned residents met our chants with intermixed looks of uncomfortable skepticism and support. Then we hooked a u-turn heading north and marched north past a number of high-end art galleries, jewelers, and eateries. Spirits were high as we passed diners with a look of shock that our protest dared to interrupt their brunch activities on a cool Saturday morning. Further down the road, we turned left onto Coast Boulevard and headed back towards the park, but not before occupying the mouth of Coast Walk Trail for a proud display of Latine culture. El Arcoiris del Sur, a local Baile Folclórico group, performed to the tune of the Mariachi band and gave their progressive take on Mexican cultural classic performances such as the Jarabe Tapatio. This closed us out before returning to Ellen Browning Park for a feast of burritos provided by USWW and tacos provided by ACCE. 

An ACCE organizer from the People Over Billionaire coalition assured us that there are more of us than there are of them and this will not be the last time the wealthy communities of San Diego get reminded that a community of workers makes the city run.

As Sabrina Fernandes, the Brazilian ecosocialist, puts it, “As much as the current situation is about Venezuela, it is clearly not just about Venezuela.” From the vantage of ecosocialism, the events underway in Venezuela are just the latest chapter in the centuries-long exercise of imperial extractivism that fueled the rise of global capitalism and remains its infernal combustion engine today.

No better introduction to Latin America’s part in this pageant of plunder is Uruguayan Eduardo Galeano’s 1971 masterpiece, Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent, which Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez gifted to president Barack Obama during his trip to meet with Latin American leaders in 2009. The book told in the clearest terms the violent history of European and then U.S. exploitation of Latin America’s riches: first, silver, mercury, and gold, then sugar, tobacco, coffee, tin, nitrates, bananas and oil.

The plunder didn’t stop in 1971, when the book came out, or in 2009, when Obama read it or, more likely, did not read it.  And here we are, past the first quarter of the 21st century, writing a new chapter with Donald Trump’s strike on Caracas and seizure of oil tankers full of Venezuelan oil sanctioned on his imperial say-so.

Ecosocialists see the global threats and challenges posed by the ecological crisis as interwoven with and inseparable from the geopolitical and economic crises of late capitalism. Accordingly, we don’t spend much time speculating on the personal motives of Donald J. Trump. Nor do we dismiss him as an incompetent buffoon, a “malignant narcissist,” with delusions of grandeur and incipient dementia. The project he represents is deadly serious and backed by a powerful coalition of forces and will cause untold human suffering in the years ahead even if, in the best case, it is reversed by a future administration.

Trump represents a powerful coalition of forces that are doubling down on what Andreas Malm and the Zetkin Collective identify as “fossil fascism” in White Skin, Black Fuel, their panoramic 2021 survey of the rising international far right. White Skin, Black Fuel explores how the right’s traditional racism, nationalism, nativism, and militarism have been melded in our era with climate denialism and an undying commitment to fossil fuels.  

To paraphrase Fernandes, as much as the current situation is about oil, it is clearly not just about oil.

A central goal of the Trump Administration is to lock us into a genocidal and ecocidal race in which corporations and oligarchs hope to come out on top. They know that large majorities do not want what they offer so they are ready to bring conflict, chaos, and war, an environment in which believe they can thrive. In support of this dystopian vision, Trump seeks to “move quickly and break things,” in the jargon of his Silicon Valley tech-bro allies.

This means stamping out any effort to mitigate the impact of laissez-faire capitalism on the ecology of planet Earth. Trump has made no secret of his devotion to the fossil fuel, aiming to thwart any efforts in the United States to move towards renewable energy. Shortly after he took office in 2025, Trump issued an executive order declaring a “national energy emergency.” The strategic goal is to fast-track expansion of oil, gas, coal, and nuclear infrastructure. The U.S. is departing from international climate efforts that include every other nation in the world. He is dismantling the U.S. scientific effort to study climate change. The Trump Environmental Protection Agency plans to reverse that agency’s finding that ever-increasing carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere endanger human health – the legal foundation for all government efforts to limit carbon emissions.

“Oil we should’ve taken back a long time ago”

Even though the United States is now the leading producer and leading exporter of oil, Trump has suggested that boosting oil production in Venezuela is a U.S. priority, and he is expecting U.S. oil companies to follow his lead.

“The oil companies are going to go in, they are going to spend money, we are going to take back the oil, frankly, we should’ve taken back a long time ago,” Trump declared at his press conference announcing the abduction of Nicolás Maduro. “A lot of money is coming out of the ground, we are going to be reimbursed for everything we spend.”

There’s a lot to unpack here. Trump makes no attempt to dress up his scheme to exploit Venezuela’s oil industry in any language suggesting a nobler purpose such as spreading democracy. Trump’s claim that Venezuela’s oil belongs to the United States is imperialism without apology. “What is mine is mine and what is yours is mine, too.”

But despite Venezuela’s impressive reserves, the amount of oil produced by Venezuela is relatively minor – less than a million barrels compared to U.S. production of nearly 14 million barrels per day. It will take a Herculean effort to rebuild the petroleum industry in the challenging topography and economics of the Orinoco Oil Belt.

Oil industry experts scoff at the idea that Venezuelan crude will experience a sudden resurgence. Despite some enthusiasm from Chevron execs, U.S. oil companies are not ready to play the grand role assigned to them by Trump. Not only is there currently an oversupply of oil on world markets, but the potential for prolonged political instability makes Venezuela “uninvestable” in the eyes of ExxonMobil. the largest U.S. oil company. Fossil fuel infrastructure to bring Venezuelan oil production back to its peak during the Chavez years when upwards of 3.5 million tons flowed daily could take a decade to build and cost as much as a trillion dollars. Return on investment would need to play out over a secure 35 or more years of production. Political stability is sine qua non.

Although the Maduro government without Maduro may be ready to cut a deal with Trump, it seems certain that political stability is not coming any time soon. The Trump Administration has little real interest in, nor is it capable of, running the country. Marco Rubio and Pete Hegseth are not ready to squeeze in duties as Venezuela’s proconsuls, reprising Paul Bremer’s disastrous stint in Iraq after the U.S. “victory.” Trump jazzed up his biography on his TruthSocial to give himself the title of “Acting President of Venezuela,” but, he, too, is likely to be otherwise occupied. Rather, the administration will probably let political struggles within Venezuela play out however they will with the U.S. bullying whoever is in power to orchestrate concessions that include cutting off Cuba’s supply of oil and generally allowing the U.S. to dictate terms and conditions for sale of Venezuela’s oil to the rest of the world. Trump’s rhetoric has suggested that the U.S. will simply help itself to some of the oil Venezuela “stole” from us.

DSA Responds

California DSA chapters have been quick to respond to the attack on Venezuela and kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores. DSA issued a call for chapters across the country to stage demonstrations on January 10 “to protest th[e] illegal war and stand in solidarity with the sovereign people of Venezuela.” DSA raised demands including freedom for President Maduro and First Lady Flores, passage of the War Powers Resolution, impeachment of Trump for war crimes, no war for oil, and an end to all sanctions against Venezuela. San Francisco and East Bay DSA joined with the Party for Socialism and Liberation to co-lead a rally and march in San Francisco. Silicon Valley DSA rallied with a coalition of partners and Los Angeles DSA also hit the streets.

On January 10, while many of our comrades were rallying in San Francisco, East Bay DSA members who have been active in confronting Chevron over the years also gathered with hundreds of other community, labor, climate, environmental, and anti-imperialist activists at the gates of the Chevron refinery in Richmond to protest the company’s presence in Venezuela. Chevron is the second largest U.S. oil company and the largest oil refiner and distributor in California. The labor alliance May Day Strong and Indivisible also called for nationwide actions on January 10 to protest the attack on Venezuela and the murder of Renee Good by ICE agents in Minneapolis. May Day Strong urged demonstrators to target Chevron and Citgo, companies set to benefit most by the U.S. assault on Venezuela.

Over the years, East Bay DSA members have repeatedly engaged with Chevron—picketing in support of the 2022 refinery workers’ strike, canvassing in support of the Richmond Progressive Alliance (which has moved the former company town sharply to the left), demonstrating against Chevron’s pollution (which has robbed local residents of healthy air for more than a century), and protesting Chevron’s infamous global record of ecocide, genocide, and corruption.

Most recently, DSA ecosocialists have been active in local organizing around the international Palestinian-led Chevron Boycott. Chevron’s natural gas extraction in the Eastern Mediterranean powers most of Israel’s electricity generation, its war machine, prisons, and illegal settlements. In early 2025, responding to a call by the Palestinian-led BDS National Committee, the DSA International Committee initiated a national campaign to demand that Chevron get out of Palestine. The East Bay DSA Climate Action Committee has been very active in organizing the Chevron Boycott, deepening our ties with other climate activsts through picketing of Chevron gas stations and freeway banner drops, so it was a natural for us to join with activists from the Oil and Gas Action Network and other long-term climate and community allies in organizing a protest at Chevron’s Bay Area outpost on January 10.  

As intended by the BDS National Committee, the intersectional campaign demanding that Chevron get out of Palestine has united activists from several movements that find themselves increasingly aligned around the role of oil and gas in fueling genocide in Palestine and the U.S. war machine everywhere. The experience of the East Bay DSA Climate Action Committee is that the broader climate movement is embracing anti-imperialism, if not yet socialism.

Every anti-imperialist, socialist, and climate activist would do well to become familiar with the 29-page National Security Strategy adopted in November 2025 by the Trump Administration. The document is dressed in fluff designed to satisfy Donald Trump’s insatiable ego (“President Trump has cemented his legacy as The President of Peace”). But underneath the fluff, there is a clear outline of the Trump Administration’s project to reshape the world.

The post-World War II era of multilateral agreements and institutions designed and promoted by the U.S. to serve its interests is over. The U.S. “will assert and enforce a ‘Trump Corollary’ to the Monroe Doctrine.” This explains the attack on Venezuela as part of a much larger project. Trump’s threats to Canada, Greenland, Mexico, Panama, and Columbia are not random outbursts, but the overt expression of what Patrick Bigger of the Climate & Community Institute calls “unilateralist imperialism for the twenty-first century, a foreign policy of might-makes-right where the U.S. can cajole, bully, and depose governments to seize resources and attempt to claim dominion over the entire Western Hemisphere.”

As for dealing with the energy transition necessary to stave off ecological collapse, the National Security Strategy commits the U.S. to achieving total energy dominance through oil, gas, coal, and nuclear expansion, rejecting “the disastrous ‘climate change’ and ‘Net Zero’ ideologies that have so greatly harmed Europe, threaten the United States, and subsidize our adversaries.”  

As the title of one chapter of Malm and the Zetkin Collective’s study of fossil fascism warns, “Death Grips the Steering Wheel.”

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Help us build power for a world #beyondchevron!

If you want to help pry Death’s hand from the steering wheel, there’s no better place to build the campaign than California. Chevron poisons communities from Richmond to El Segundo, pollutes our politics with massive lobbying at the state and local level, and fuels the climate crisis that threatens our homes and health with fires, floods, and extreme heat. We are building a working-class struggle to challenge Chevron’s nefarious role from Palestine to Venezuela to California.

To learn more about DSA’s Stop Fueling Genocide campaign and to join the West Coast Boycott Chevron coalition, contact climate-action@eastbaydsa.org or fill out this interest form: https://bit.ly/chevboycott

Come and work with us! We have tool kits, experience, and inspiration to share with comrades around the state.

Quick, what action is guaranteed to freak out the capitalist class? If you answered, “Propose a credible campaign to pass a progressive tax”, congratulations! Ever since Marx and Engels in The Communist Manifesto included “taxing the rich” among activities the working class could take to advance its cause, the response by capital to any notion of parting with any portion of its ill-gotten gains has been predictable. Recently we witnessed the lurid warnings of disaster looming in New York should democratic socialist Zohran Mamdani be elected Mayor, emanating from his idea for a modest income tax increase on the wealthy to fund improvements needed by all New Yorkers if they wanted to be able to afford to live in the city in which they work.

The arguments against taxing the people best able to pay higher taxes are stored in a well-thumbed playbook, rolled out of mothballs by defenders of privilege every time the notion of tax fairness re-enters public conversation. But just as mothballs tend to lose their potency over time, shibboleths about taxes in place since Prop 13, passed in 1978 in the dawn of the neoliberal era in California, have lost their ability to shield the rich from voter anger. 

Why? Economic inequality, growing over the past fifty years in tandem with the decline of organized labor, has accelerated since the first Trump presidency, and now, with an oligarchy and the MAGA movement well on the way to crushing the sad remnants of New Deal regulations and programs, replacing them with open looting of the public sector, the tired anti-tax refrains are no longer playing well in New York and elsewhere.

Does anyone still believe that billionaires are “job creators”, who would rather pay workers a wage to produce a product than invest in job-killing AI? Does anyone other than Republican elected officials think cutting taxes for the wealthy actually leads to more jobs, versus adding more mansions or yachts to their hoard? 

Two proposals head toward the ballot

Here in the Golden State, fourth largest economy in the world, and home to one quarter of the country’s billionaires, two proposals are potentially heading to the November 2026 ballot that would provide the working class with opportunities to retrieve some of the wealth it produces, in the form of state revenues to pay for desperately needed public services. These initiatives will also hand the wealthy a choice:  either do right, agree to a modest restoration of tax fairness, and demonstrate that they remain a part of the broader human community; or resist, watch their failed messaging fail again, and further cement pariah status for themselves. 

The two ballot measures are currently gathering signatures to qualify for the 2026 November ballot. The “Permanent Funding for Schools and Health Care” is the product of a re-energized progressive tax coalition, dormant since the defeat of Proposition 15 in 2020 (a split roll initiative that would have separated residential and commercial property tax collections), but responsible for two prior victories, Proposition 30 in 2012 and its renewal in 2016 as Proposition 55. These bumped the top state income tax bracket—the top two percent of income earners, or a current $721,000/year and above for joint filers—up to 13.3% (including a 1% surcharge on incomes of a million dollars), bringing in between six and twelve billion dollars per year to bolster schools and social services in the wake of the Great Recession, while other states were slashing funding along with education and healthcare services. 

Prop 30 was written as a temporary tax. Prop 55 extended it to 2030. The current petition drive, headed by public sector unions but mainly bankrolled by the California Teachers Association, aims to make the tax permanent. As a tax already in place for more than a dozen years, its rollover is unlikely to produce more than token opposition from right wing rich people who have lost on the issue twice before. Perhaps some of them have learned from experience that (shocker) they are still rich despite paying the highest state income taxes in the country. And the very richest among them might be keeping their powder dry to try to stop the other initiative.

Billionaire tax

This one, a wealth tax on billionaires spearheaded by SEIU-United Health Workers (UHW), has been getting a lot of press lately. The “California Billionaire Tax Act” proposes a one-time tax of 5% on the assets of the state’s two hundred billionaires (who combined hoard almost two trillion dollars) to offset the pending impact of federal cuts to Medicaid funding to the state, estimated to be around $20 billion per year. If left unaddressed, these cuts would throw several million people off of Medi-Cal (California’s version of Medicaid) and destroy tens of thousands of health care jobs. The UHW proposal—issued a title and summary by the state attorney general in the closing days of 2025, a necessary step before signature gathering—is also supported by a southern California hospital association. The tax would raise an eyepopping estimated $100 billion over five years and then expire.

California DSA endorsed the measure at its State Council meeting in December. Crucially, however, the “California Billionaire Tax Act” has no other labor backers, not even the parent organization of UHW, the SEIU State Council. The campaign website foregoes the standard “supporters” page, most likely because there aren’t any. No matter. UHW probably has the money to qualify the initiative by itself, should it choose to do so. Passing it is another question. 

Opposed are, of course, billionaires, several of whom are loudly but not very originally proclaiming that they are moving themselves and their businesses out of the state if the measure passes. Their mouthpieces and credulous mainstream media reporters have kept up a steady drumbeat of hysterical “the sky is falling” rhetoric for the past month. Just a few of the many headlines billionaires can buy: “California’s divisive plan to tax billionaires” (The Financial Times); “Billionaires are Ramping Up Their California Exits on Threat of Wealth Tax” (Bloomberg.com); “Billionaires make strategic moves out of California ahead of proposed wealth tax” (Fox); and “A Wealth Tax Floated in California Has Billionaires Thinking of Leaving” (New York Times). 

Class traitor

At least one billionaire isn’t buying the hype offensive, however. As reported in The Guardian, Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang (worth $159 billion) sensibly says, “We chose to live in Silicon Valley, and whatever taxes they would like to apply, so be it.” Class traitor Huang must be onto something that eludes the likes of David Sacks, Larry Page, Sergey Brin and Peter Thiel in their supposed panicked rush to the exit: they will all still be stinking rich and way too powerful for the public good after the measure passes. The public might even come to think they should keep existing if they’re paying a fairer share of taxes.

Silicon Valley Democratic Congressman Ro Khanna agreed on social media: “I echo what FDR said with sarcasm of economic royalists when they threatened to leave, ‘I will miss them very much.’ This historical reference point brought a chorus of right wing calls to primary Khanna.

Let’s be mathematically precise about the potential impact of the tax on the crocodile tear-emitting billionaires. Instead of two trillion dollars in their piggy banks, after passage of the billionaire tax they will be left with one trillion, nine hundred ninety-five billion dollars—pretty much enough to scrape by on, one would think, until rage over economic inequality creates mobs and torches large enough to burn down their mansions, yachts and jets. 

Newsom’s consistency

Unfortunately joining the billionaires in opposition is Governor Gavin Newsom. The best that can be said of his position is that he is consistent. Since taking office he has steadfastly opposed any talk of taxing his buddies the ultrarich, no doubt keeping his eye on the prize of billionaire backing for his inevitable presidential run. Here’s a secret, Gavin: taxing the rich is extremely popular with the electorate. Take a cue from Zohran Mamdani. You and your neoliberal ilk in the Democratic Party leadership would be far better off building a campaign from the bottom up than the top down. Or conversely, did you really learn nothing from the Kamala Harris campaign either?

Newsom’s efforts are especially offensive given two bits of historical data. Compare and contrast with former Governor Jerry Brown.  Brown, a pragmatic politician, under great pressure from business interests opposed to an increase in taxes on the top two percent, nonetheless refused to allow his state’s schools and services to crater on their behalf, campaigning vigorously for Prop 30 in 2012. Worse than that comparison: Newsom is parroting the canard that taxing the rich drives them out of the state and with them all the supposed jobs they create. In 2012 the same blackmailing lie was repeated endlessly by the opposition. What actually happened? By 2015, the state’s millionaire population had grown by ten thousand; and the state had added a million and a half jobs following passage of Prop 30. With a tiny allocation of investigative reporting, the prestigious publications printing these stories might have added a smidgeon of balance to the billionaire-friendly fear mongering.

No denying the need, but…

No sane person who cares about health care for the poorest Californians can disagree about the need for something like a targeted billionaire tax, given the Trump regime’s federal budgetary moves. And glib, historically false arguments about runaway rich people leaving California a smoking fiscal desert aside, it’s past time for billionaires to cough up a fairer share of taxes. 

But many questions arise, out of which I’ll just broach two: if both measures make the ballot, will the feverish campaign against the Billionaires Tax harm the chances of making Prop 30/55 permanent? Failure of the latter measure would blow a large hole in the state’s budget, especially for K12 schools and community colleges, which receive 40% of the proposition’s income. And, can the two campaigns figure out how to get along and push common conversation about taxing the rich into a positive and dominant narrative—instead of, say, allowing the capitalist class to spend bajillions against a divided left to make it “union thugs kill the goose that lays the golden egg for the golden state”?

Time is short. November 2026 will be upon us before we know it. Let’s hope the necessary work of coalition building, message agreement and assembling the field campaigns will show the way to getting the wealthiest Californians to pay their fair share for the common good.

From the Free Speech Movement to the Factory Floor: A Collective History of the International Socialists, edited by Andrew Stone Higgins, Haymarket Books, available March 2026.

DSA’s “rank-and-file strategy” has 60s roots at UC Berkeley 

"The lessons of the International Socialists can help point us in the right direction by sharing what has worked and what has failed in past decades" —Andrew Stone Higgins

Some DSA members are still pondering how they should relate, personally and collectively, to the labor movement. Should they try to become agents of workplace change while serving on the staff of local, regional, or national unions? Or should they organize “on the shop-floor”—in non-union shops or as a unionized teacher, nurse, or social worker? And then, later on, seek elected, rather than appointed, union leadership roles? 

A few years ago, the DSA convention debated this latter strategy and then narrowly passed a resolution favoring the rank-and-file route. Some members locally have joined the Rank-and-File Project which supports this approach “to fighting for a better world from the bottom up.”

Fifty years ago, Sixties leftists pondered the same options before launching their own reform efforts, within the labor bureaucracy or as challengers to it. Some had the foresight to transition from campus and community organizing to union activism in healthcare, education, and social work where college degrees were helpful and job security good.

Other former student radicals—under the (not-always-helpful) guidance of multiple left-wing formations—opted to become blue-collar workers in trucking and telecom, mid-west auto plants and steel mills, and West Virginia coal mines in the 1970s. Unfortunately, in the decade that followed, de-regulation, de-industrialization, and global capitalist restructuring produced enormous job losses and industrial contraction. 

Radicals who made a “turn toward industry” often lost union footholds they had struggled for years to gain. But thankfully, many ended up back on the academic track, retooling as teachers, lawyers or pro-labor college professors. Others became community organizers, public sector union activists, labor educators or staffers, and, in some cases, even entered the business world.

Socialism from Below

Andrew Stone Higgins’ history of the International Socialists (IS), From the Free Speech Movement to the Factory Floor: A Collective History of the International Socialists, brings together individual oral histories or contributor-written chapters by 26 former members of that organization. The IS was founded in 1969 by veterans of the Free Speech Movement (FSM) at Berkeley and other hotbeds of Sixties’ activism. FSM alums featured in the book include the late Mike Parker, an East Bay DSA member whose chapter on “The Student Movement and Beyond” contains good advice for campus radicals today.

Like organizational rivals on the left less interested in promoting “socialism from below,” the IS made a decade-long attempt to “bridge the gap between a left disproportionately formed on college campuses and the working class, which, of course, remains a central concern for all American socialists.”

In Higgins’ collection, contributors like Candace Cohn, Gay Semel, and Wendy Thompson provide vivid first-person accounts of their experience leaving student life or white-collar jobs to become embedded in industry. Each of them helped fight the discriminatory treatment of women and/or African-American workers widespread in the blue-collar world they entered in the 1970s.

Cohn became politically active as a member of Students for a Democratic Society at the University of Michigan. After graduation, she moved to Pittsburgh and helped create a local advocacy group for Mon Valley workers exposed to hazardous health and safety conditions.  She then became “one of the first women hired into basic steel since World War II” at U.S. Steel’s Clairton Coke Works, “the world’s largest coking operation and its filthiest and deadliest.”

In the mill, “sexual harassment was non-stop, both from foremen and from older white co-workers.” Nevertheless, Cohn built relationships with black workers and other female steel workers, started a shop floor paper, Steelworkers Stand Up, and helped rally fellow rank-and-filers on behalf of Ed Sadlowski and his “Fight Back” slate in a 1977 international union election.  

Sadlowski was a “left social democrat,” who was heavily red-baited during his exciting but, ultimately unsuccessful, challenge to labor-management partnering in the steel industry. “In the employer’s offensive that followed,” Cohn writes, “tens of thousands of steelworkers were thrown onto the street, mills shuttered, and steel valley voices silenced.” She was able to retrain as a labor and civil rights lawyer.

Like Cohn, Gay Semel went to law school after her tour of duty in the IS, as its national secretary and editor of Workers Power, an “agitational newspaper” featuring a popular column called “Labor Notes.” Before that, she worked as a telephone operator in N.Y.C. In that well-timed intervention, she got herself expelled from the Bell System company union then representing her-co-workers, which the Communications Workers of America was trying to oust. As a lawyer, she spent most of later career working for CWA, the union she also tried to support, back in 1971, when she wouldn’t cross its picket-lines during a nine-month strike by 38,000 N.Y Tel technicians.

Unlike Cohn and Semel, Wendy Thompson actually made it to the finish line of a good union pension in the auto industry after becoming a labor-oriented radical during her junior year abroad (in France, circa May 1968). Thompson worked for General Motors at a Chevy gear and axle plant, with a predominantly black workforce. Surviving lay-offs and repeated management attempts to fire her, Thompson battled sexism on the shop floor, contract concessions, and the long dominant influence of the Administration Caucus in the United Auto Workers (UAW).

During her 33 years in the plant, only one Administration Caucus critic was ever elected to the UAW international executive board. But the 2022 membership vote to ditch convention voting for top officers—and switch to direct election by the rank-and-file—enabled a slate backed by Unite All Workers for Democracy (UAWD) to win what Thompson calls an “unprecedented victory—and a great culmination of my many years of activity” on the shop floor.

A Hard Sell

The recollections of individual IS members definitely support Higgins’s conclusion that their “pre-party formation” of 500 failed to create an organizational culture “more fully welcoming to diverse working-class recruits.” The latter numbered only about one-fifth of the IS’s peak membership, and, according to Higgins, here’s why:

While refreshingly democratic and seriously committed to political education of new members, the IS culture of deep reading, broad discussion, fierce debates, and long, numerous meetings was a hard sell to prospective members, pressing familial obligations, and a limited amount of free time.

And then there was the internal feuding that disrupted the group’s initially well-coordinated labor work. In 1976-77, the IS split three ways. Several hundred loyalists stayed put; seventy five formed a group called Workers Power, and one hundred created the International Socialist Organization (ISO), which grew bigger over the years but then suddenly imploded in 2019. In the mid-1980s, as part of a more constructive “regroupment” process, Workers Power members got back together with remaining ISers to form Solidarity, a looser network of socialists which publishes the journal Against the Current.

According to former Teamsters for a Democratic Union (TDU) supporter Dan LaBotz, now a Brooklyn DSA member and co-editor of New Politics, “one of the principal reasons for the IS split was differences over the labor work,” which some members argued was “making the group more conservative.” 

As feminist historian Barbara Winslow recalls, the grounds for her expulsion from the IS, in the late 1970s, was arguing “for a larger engagement in all possible areas of working-class women’s struggles—blue-, white-, and pink-collar movements as well as other women’s liberation activities.”  She and her then husband, former IS National Industrial Organizer Cal Winslow, became targets of a subsequent purge, when they were expelled from the ISO, despite being among its founding members.

Contributors to Higgins collection like UC Santa Barbara Professor Nelson Lichtenstein, David Finkel, co-editor of Against the Current, and others cite TDU and Labor Notes as the main legacies of the IS. That uniquely durable labor education, rank-and-file organizing, and alternative media project was launched forty-six years ago, during an era when other socialist or communist formations were still mired in highly competitive self-promotion. 

For example, their organizational newspapers usually put a higher priority on new “cadre” recruitment than helping to build broad-based, multi-tendency rank-and-file movement. In contrast, as Thompson recalls, “the IS clearly rejected the model that many socialist groups had of maintaining their front groups rightly under their control. Originally staffed by IS members, Labor Notes became a project where workers would feel they were in a comfortable milieu but also a pond where socialists could swim.”

This may have “violated all the norms of so-called Leninism,” Finkel notes. But, in the end, a more ecumenical approach was critical to developing a multi-generational network of rank-and-file militants that now meets every two years with 5,000 or more in attendance, as opposed to just 600 in the early 1980s, which was good turnout back then. (To attend the June, 2026 Labor Notes conference, register as soon as possible at https://www.labornotes.org/2026.)

This very readable volume has much solid advice for socialists trying to revitalize existing unions or create alternatives to them today.  One key lesson is that building a big labor or political tent is better, for the left, than becoming a small one. If you prefer the latter result, then endless meetings, too much organizational “discipline,” and fractious debates over the finer points of Marxist theory—followed by destructive purge—will get you there pretty quick. On the other hand, if you want to be an individual or organizational long-distance runner on the labor left, there are, in this book, some very good role models to follow.

On January 1, 2026, DSA’s most visible and astonishing electoral success story to date, Zohran Kwame Mamdani, was inaugurated as mayor of the largest, most culturally iconic city in America. Much media hay has been made of Mamdani’s long-shot run, incredibly well-organized and executed campaign, and the long-theorized but seldom-achieved mass mobilization of untapped voter blocs that underlay Bernie Sanders’ two runs at the White House in 2016 and 2020. 

In the immediate aftermath of Zohran’s victory, hundreds of thinkpieces from The Guardian to the LA Times asked: who’s the next Zohran? Will there be one in Los Angeles? Mayor Karen Bass is up for reelection in 2026, facing a narrow set of challengers now that her 2022 opponent, crypto-Republican real estate billionaire Rick Caruso, has declined a rematch. Likely opponents will include Rae Huang, occupying a progressive-nonprofit-activist lane that Bass herself is aligned with, and former LAUSD superintendent Austin Buetner, a candidate in the mold of a post-Obama technocrat.

The question betrays a misunderstanding of how socialist electoral power is built in practice, both confusing running candidates with movement-building, and trying to map New York City’s political context onto Los Angeles. A Mamdani mayoralty will challenge NYC-DSA in uncountable ways as they seek to realign city and state politics around a democratic socialist pole, with DSA as a proto-party organization amassing institutional power alongside its electeds by way of establishing a regional electoral machine.

DSA’s Los Angeles chapter is ramping up to support our own six endorsed candidates for 2026: two incumbents on city council, one school board incumbent, and challengers for two new city councilor seats and for city attorney. These races continue the chapter’s pursuit of a very similar realignment under different conditions than NYC. On this front, DSA-LA’s electoral program has a strong track record, demonstrably shifting the political calculus among elected officials, operatives, labor unions, allies and class enemies alike. Once grounded in an uneasy multiracial “Status Quo Coalition” tying capital and labor together into ethnic blocs of interest, the shape of LA politics has begun to shift, with big business, landlord, and police interests pouring money into crushing the fragile pro-tenant and pro-worker wins of the past few years.

In this first piece of a planned series, we offer an overview of the Los Angeles political landscape and DSA-LA’s recent electoral history to explain its similarities and differences from NYC, the power (or influence) DSA-LA does (and doesn’t yet) wield, the ongoing realignment of major political forces in Los Angeles, and what these all mean for the democratic socialist movement.

Structural Factors Shape Local Strategy

DSA-LA’s electoral program to date is distinguished by a significant focus on municipal city council offices. While NYC-DSA has elected two councilmembers and 9 state legislators (the tenth of whom left office to become Mayor), DSA-LA’s wins so far have been concentrated in the city of Los Angeles, with four elected Los Angeles City Councilmembers and two Los Angeles school board members.

The relative strength and weakness of mayors and city councils informs municipal electoral strategy. The city councils in the two other largest cities in America, NYC and Chicago, each have 50+ members. (Chicago’s mayor is weak in theory, strong in practice - though the current mayor is testing the limits of mayoral powerlessness.) In contrast, the mayor’s office in Los Angeles is relatively weak compared to city council, with each of our 15 city council offices functioning more as a midsize localized executive office than a legislator in an assembly.

A California Red article during the 2024 campaign cycle as well as our chapter’s Democratic Socialist Program provide a good overview of the political interests that oppose or support our candidates, which are largely similar for DSA candidates across the country. We describe below some of the most salient factors a DSA-LA candidate faces in mounting a winning campaign.

Election System & Scale

The sheer scale of LA politics creates the most formidable obstacles. Assembly districts contain 485,000 people and city council districts 260,000—compared to New York's 120,000 and 170,000 respectively. For example, in the 2022 primary, DSA-LA’s Hugo Soto-Martinez won the most votes in the primary against incumbent Mitch O’Farrell with just over 19,000 votes to O’Farrell’s 15,000. Meanwhile, only about 17,000 votes in total were cast in Zohran’s first primary race for New York State assembly in 2020. In NYC, the general election is typically a guaranteed victory for the Democratic-line candidate. In 2022 Los Angeles, Soto-Martinez needed to win another bruising run-off against O’Farrell which he won 38,069 to 27,797.

The chapter has attempted endorsements in state legislative seats in the past, and those results further illustrate the overwhelming scale of Los Angeles electoral campaigns: former Culver City councilor Daniel Lee badly lost a special election for State Senate District 30 in 2021 against a chair of the “Women for Mike Bloomberg 2020” campaign – despite winning more votes than Zohran Mamdani did in his Assembly victory that same year. DSA-endorsed candidate Fatima Iqbal-Zubair lost twice in bids to unseat oil-money Democrat Assembly District 65 incumbent Mike Gipson in 2020 and 2022, despite receiving over 50,000 votes in her first race.

California's "top-two" jungle primary system compounds the challenge, requiring candidates to appeal beyond partisan activist bases to a broader electorate regardless of party affiliation. This primary system is in many ways more “small-d democratic” than a system of closed party primaries like NYC’s. At the same time, it has largely accomplished the goal of the Republican state legislators who championed it: boosting moderate candidates over left-wing challengers. It has also inspired establishment Democrats to strategically fund the primary races of their desired opponents, as Senator Adam Schiff did in 2024 when he poured millions into boosting Republican Steve Garvey to avoid a runoff against a progressive.

Another factor is our system of neighborhood councils, LA’s smallest official unit of city government. The 15 absurdly large city council districts are paired with 99 hyper-local, citizen-led political institutions with elected leadership. The very small size of these races (with vote totals in the tens to hundreds) makes them attractive targets for activists; neighborhood councils were swept by grassroots progressives in recent years. (DSA-LA ran some neighborhood council races in 2020 and 2021.) Unfortunately for these progressives, each council is funded to the tune of $25,000 and granted purely advisory powers, while being subject to many state laws applicable to regular governing bodies; in practice, more of a timesink for NIMBY home- and business-owners than a venue for collective power.

DSA-LA has additionally endorsed candidates for some of the county’s 87 smaller jurisdictions: Ricardo Martinez for the City of La Puente, Mike van Gorder for Burbank Council, and recently re-elected Burbank councilor Konstantine Anthony. But the chapter has generally struggled to develop both candidates and membership outside the overwhelming gravity of LA city. LA city electeds are simply much more powerful than our comrade councilor from Burbank, so their seats are more hotly contested; their districts are more densely populated with DSA members, and their races eat up more attention and resources.

Constituencies and their Property

DSA-LA's core constituency is well-established through years of electoral experience: highly educated, mostly white voters facing downward mobility relative to their parents, alongside an upwardly mobile, educated multiracial working and middle class often experiencing greater prosperity than their immigrant parents. In Los Angeles—a majority-renter city where median home prices have long exceeded $1 million—housing scarcity sharpens these class dynamics. Decades of intentional underdevelopment have turbocharged homeowners' political power, creating conditions where DSA candidates perform well in dense, renter-heavy neighborhoods where the housing crisis hits hardest. 

The statewide albatross of Prop 13 has also fed this dynamic. The 50-year-old constitutional amendment, as the state Board of Equalization puts it, “converted the market value-based property tax system to an acquisition value-based system.” Among other effects, it functionally ensures new homeowners pay proportionally more for local services relative to established homeowners, driving an increasingly obvious generational divide. The components of California’s property tax system remain incredibly difficult to dislodge even as vast disparities in taxable property values impact education funding, state and local budget stability, and class and housing mobility.

Left-Labor Landscape

Every city has its own system of NGOs carving up the turf of its left-electoral and donor- or grant-funded movement landscape. Candidates for office must contend with this network of interpersonal and institutional relationships. In Los Angeles, Karen Bass herself serves as an exemplar. Once a member of the US Communist Party (CPUSA) and linked to Cuba through the Venceremos Brigade, Bass followed the path of much of the 20th century’s New Left. Like many who spent their younger years in SDS or adjacent social justice movement organizations, Bass rose to prominence in LA channeling her political energy into the nonprofit world as the founder of Community Coalition (CoCo) to exercise influence and achieve elected office.

Like many “blue” electoral strongholds, durable one-party rule has shaped the Democratic Party in California into a very large tent. While there is a corporate wing of Democrats courted by everyone from Chamber of Commerce lobbyists to crypto shills, there is also room for what we might call multi-racial liberal democracy blocs. Compared to New York, these blocs have been fairly adaptive and responsive to working class politics. Case in point: in the 1990s, a Latino-labor bloc emerged in LA that is still very powerful today. (In 2025 DSA-LA ran a political education series on Labor’s place in the power politics of LA— essential reading.) These leaders were considered quite progressive, and there are few outright terrible Democratic legislators in DSA’s best-performing neighborhoods. But wedges do open up within these coalitions, which gives a less well-connected candidate room for an upset victory.

In 2022, city politics was thrown into chaos after the release of leaked audio recordings of city officials scheming to turn redistricting to their favor at the LA County of Federation of Labor. All four officials lost their positions - three city council members, two of whom have since been replaced by DSA-LA endorsed candidates, plus Ron Herrera, Teamster and former president of the LA Fed. The “Fed Tapes” exposed politicians explicitly pitting racial groups against each other, an ugly display of the pursuit of raw power in which the highest levels of organized labor were implicated.

The Fed’s deep historical roots, transformational ties with immigrant communities, and 800,000 represented workers constitute a dominant force in LA politics. Unions with high profiles in the city include the building trades and longshoremen working the ports, healthcare unions like NUHW (whose six-month strike against Kaiser ended in 2025), SEIU’s public sector workforces, including some of the 100,000 SoCal members of SEIU 721, and UNITE HERE Local 11. UTLA, among other unions in public and higher education, remains a powerful progressive force within the Fed. Meanwhile Hollywood labor has been stretched thin by years of receding industry tides, with the disruption of Covid and 2023’s prolonged strikes giving way to sectoral contraction, erosion by AI, and a corrupt federal administration eager to extort favors for mega-merger approval, driving further monopoly consolidation among media companies.

Next time, we consider how DSA-LA’s endorsements have evolved in response to these factors.