#title From Caracas to Tehran with a stopover in Havana
#subtitle Reflections on the ongoing war from an anarchist perspective
#author Gustavo Rodríguez
#date March 29, 2026
#source via email
#lang en
#pubdate 2026-04-14T21:36:02
#topics war, perspective, Iran, Cuba, Venezuela, the left
“We know full well that there are values that are born old and that, from the moment of their birth, bear witness to their conformity, their conformism, and their inability to disrupt any established order.”
Gilles Deleuze, Nietzsche.[1]
Thirty-six years ago, I wrote an article condemning the U.S. invasion of Panama. The “reasons” for the attack—cynically dubbed “Operation Just Cause”—were “based” on three pillars: 1.) the “war on drugs,” 2.) the “restoration of democracy,” and 3.) the “protection of U.S. residents” in that Central American country. On January 3, 1990, eleven days after the incursion of 13,000 Marines,[2] General Manuel Antonio Noriega was taken prisoner.[3] The following day, he would be transferred on the orders of George H. W. Bush to Miami to stand trial on charges of “drug trafficking.” Instead, they imposed Guillermo Endara’s puppet government at bayonet point; within hours of the invasion beginning, he was sworn in as constitutional president at a U.S. military base.
In my article, despite the overabundance of pro-sovereignty rhetoric, typical of leftist propaganda—currently in vogue within “revolutionary anarchism”—I did not shy away from calling a spade a spade. I titled it “Rival Drug Gangs Clash in Panama.”[4] The facts truly demanded that title. Tilly’s reflections on the analogy between war, state-building, and organized crime left no room for doubt.[5] It was a dispute between gangs over control of “the turf.” As always happens in such skirmishes, the strongest and best-armed gangster ended up imposing his dominance.
At the time, it was an open secret that the deposed dictator was, in fact, a common drug trafficker who had amassed a vast fortune through drug trafficking, arms smuggling, and money laundering. Furthermore, there was ample evidence of his regime’s repressive nature, evident in the imprisonment of opponents and the assassination of social activists and guerrilla fighters. It was also common knowledge that he had interfered in the electoral fraud that secured the victory for Carlos Duque—the military regime’s candidate—of the National Liberation Coalition (COLINA), disregarding the results obtained by the conservative opposition led by Endara.
However, the left-wing and far-left factions of the power, along with the champions of revolutionary nationalism, tore their clothes in outrage without a hint of shame, denouncing the “kidnapping” of the drug-trafficking general and “the flagrant violation of national sovereignty and the self-determination of peoples.”
At that time, Anarchy was awakening, brazen and seditious, after a long winter imposed by fire and sword by “actually existing socialism” and the ethno-nationalist pathology that had subjugated it throughout the 20th century. Fortunately, and despite the pernicious remnants of liberalism and “anarcho-Bolshevism,” an anarchism that was “vocationally impertinent and incorrigibly mocking [continued] to surprise, time and again, the heterogeneous, out-of-tune, and reactionary chorus of its gravediggers with intermittent outbursts that [placed it] on the agenda of rebellious possibilities.”[6]
Perhaps that is why—or as a result of the erosion and discrediting of the experiences of “real socialism,” the theoretical and political crisis of Western Marxism, the discrediting of social democratic governments, and the decline of workerist ideologies— that shrewd anarchism remained aloof from the “anti-imperialist” outcries of nationalpopulism and the tantrums of Chomskian libertarianism and other specimens of the left of the power. In contrast, it reaffirmed its anti-sovereignist vocation as it went along. Ergo: stateless and insubordinate. Thus, a consistently anarchist praxis came to life, one that recognizes “total liberation” as our sole banner and drives us to confront power in all its forms. Consequently, it made no distinction between one gangster or another. There was an awareness that there was no place in either “camp.” Neither in the trenches of the Panamanian oligarchy’s nationalist capitalism, nor in those of imperialist capitalism.
Under the pretext of the “war on drugs” and the “restoration of democracy,” the Washington reaffirmed its political and economic hegemony in the hemisphere. With this sweeping move, the White House sought to regain control of the Panama Canal and assert its dominance over the continent. All with the sole aim of securing a vast backyard. There was never any interest in eradicating the lucrative narcotics trade. Much less in “restoring democracy.” The fact that corrupt military officers and notorious drug traffickers remained in power after the post-invasion “purge” was clear proof of this.[7] Of the 1,069 officers loyal to Noriega, 980 retained command positions within the military.
In reality, the military intervention took place during the final throes of the so-called “Cold War,” marking a significant shift from the “fight against communism” to active military involvement in narcotics interdiction. The “war on drugs,” launched in 1971 by President Richard Nixon after declaring narcotics “public enemy number one,” materialized beyond borders, extending the war urbi et orbi. That strategy, focused on criminalization, was never a public health campaign as the U.S. government and the media attempted to portray it.[8] However, subsequent administrations continued with this approach until it became an effective tool for domestic social control—with particular ferocity during Ronald Reagan’s presidencies—and a powerful interventionist resource on the international stage, which George H. W. Bush deployed on January 3, 1989.
The “war on drugs” was also used as a pretext in those months of 1989 to establish a U.S. military base in Peru as part of the “Andean Initiative.”[9] In the same vein, Washington threatened to send the aircraft carrier J.F. Kennedy off the coast of Colombia. By November of that year, Bush ordered the creation of Joint Task Force Six (JTF-6). This operations command, based at Fort Bliss, Texas, would aim to “coordinate military support with federal, state, and local agencies” along the border with Mexico and carry out the mission of “combating drug trafficking and transnational threats to national security on the southern border.” Castroism would not escape the Pentagon’s crosshairs and would be forced to improvise draconian measures on the island in order to ensure the regime’s survival.[10] Through technological innovations in the military field, the U.S. government intercepted encrypted messages and obtained satellite evidence implicating the Havana regime in drug trafficking and arms smuggling.
The disruptions caused by the technological revolution at the end of the 20th century brought an end to 45 years of bipolar division of the world. Thus ended an era of geopolitical, economic, cultural, and technological tension between the imperialist blocs (the U.S. and the USSR). Likewise, the ideological struggle between “actually existing capitalism” and “actually existing socialism” (state capitalism, to put it more clearly) came to an end. In the process, the dominance of a single capitalist model was legitimized.
With the rise of technological transformations following the collapse of the USSR, the “era of globalization” began. What Félix Guattari termed integrated world capitalism (IWC), noting that this globalization, far from being a factor of growth, in fact corresponded “to a radical reformulation of its previous foundations, which [could] lead either to a complete involution of the system or to a change of register […] once again transforming social relations and developing increasingly artificial markets.”[11]
Indeed, we were facing an unprecedented system of domination. To understand and confront it, a new emancipatory paradigm was needed—one that was up to the task. However, the impertinent vocation of the seditious awakening of Anarchy—decidedly post-left—and its intention to reestablish itself in a fundamentally new era, had a fleeting existence. Its fleeting potency prevented it from incorporating all that conceptual metamorphosis into the theoretical and practical framework of contemporary anarchism and becoming the prevailing practice.
By then, the first wave of insurrectionary informalism (the driving force behind the “hot summer” of 1977) was losing steam. In this sense, the process of the emergence and peak of a new seditious paradigm was interrupted. The vacuum was quickly filled by the ideological hegemony and centralist practices of the platformist organization and the revival of “anarcho-populism.” The antics of Noam Chomsky and James Petras began to take root in our circles and, most tragically, were accepted as “guidelines.” This aspect would ultimately prove decisive in reducing anarchism to the most convenient ideological construct.
At the same time, during this period of decline in the struggles, an academic caste began to emerge in universities, establishing the “chair of anarchism.” This divine intelligentsia latched onto the remnants of folk anarchism—heir to the Age of Aquarius and the Spring of ’68—and introduced a peculiar cultural interpretation of anarchism that would soon begin to take hold. To make matters worse, a poorly understood reading of insurrectionist theses—with a marked emphasis on the “unity of struggles”—identified “objective conditions” in so-called social movements, giving way to a phase of great plasticity, repulsively sugarcoated, that fueled the instituting rhetoric we suffer from today.
It is worth noting that while the lowercase “a” was taking root in our circles, spurred by libertarian anthropology, there was a second phase of anarchist informalism—following the decline of anti-globalization tourism, the debacle of intergalactic neo-Zapatism, and the transformation of social movements into electoral coalitions — which, during the first two decades of the 21st century, attempted to articulate the negative surplus of constant manifestations of nihilism with the efforts to rebuild the permanent insurrection (of a clearly anarchist nature), but by then repression and “friendly fire” had completed the dismantling of Anarchy.
*** Déjà vécu: Between Phobias and Philias
On another January 3—this time in 2026—under the tired pretext of the “war on drugs” and the “restoration of democracy,” the U.S. government launches a military incursion in Venezuela called “Operation Absolute Resolution” and orders the capture of Nicolás Maduro. Once taken prisoner, he was transferred to New York City along with his wife (“the first combatant”) to stand trial on charges of “drug trafficking” and “narco-terrorism.” In his place, they would install the puppet government of Delcy Rodríguez, the former “Bolivarian” vice president, who, just hours after the invasion, opened the doors of Miraflores to high-ranking officials from the Trump administration, including the director of the CIA.[12]
Once again, it was an open secret that the deposed dictator was, in fact, a common drug trafficker who had amassed a vast fortune through corruption, drug trafficking, and money laundering. Furthermore, there was ample evidence of his regime’s repressive nature, as evidenced by the imprisonment and murder of dissident students and social activists. It was also common knowledge that he had interfered in the electoral fraud that secured his reelection, disregarding the results obtained by the conservative opposition led by Edmundo González.
Once again, Charles Tilly leaves no room for doubt. This is yet another gang dispute over control of “the turf.” And, as always, the strongest and best-armed gangster has asserted his dominance. However, the left- and far-left-wing factions of the power and the champions of revolutionary nationalism are once again tearing their hair out without a shred of shame, denouncing the dictator’s kidnapping and “the flagrant violation of national sovereignty and the self-determination of peoples.”
As if that weren’t enough, the new war in the Persian Gulf—which is once again dominating television screens—seems like a replay of Bush’s “endless war” on terrorism, which began in Iraq in 2003, but remastered and ramped up to the max 23 years later, this time against Iran. It is incredible to see how faithfully they adhere to the Bush administration’s manual of war strategies, including the pretexts used back then to “justify” the war. The selection of the enemy is also being repeated, with another unpresentable tyrant like Ayatollah Ali Khamenei being chosen. Here, too, we have evidence—thanks to the ongoing critiques of our Iranian anarchist comrades—of the corruption and repressive nature of the Islamic regime, evident in the mass imprisonment of opponents, the killing of more than 20,000 protesters, and the execution of social activists.
Once again, threats against Colombia, Mexico, and Cuba are being repeated. The “Andean Initiative” (now “Shield of the Americas”) is being revived, with an “operations” base in Ecuador and a mission to eradicate the narco-guerrillas operating in the border area with Colombia. Similarly, “Joint Task Force Six” is being renewed on the border with Mexico (now “Border Security Cooperation Program”), and four “operations” (“Albatros,” “Barracuda,” “Neptune,” and the “North American Maritime Security Initiative”) are being implemented on Mexican territory. Castroism is once again forced to improvise measures on the island in order to secure its privileges and accepts private investment from the “worms,” now transformed into butterflies, while deciding who will be the Cuban Delcy Rodríguez. Once again, the phobias and philias surrounding those involved in the conflicts are repeated, and people are invited to choose between the nationalist capitalism of the local oligarchies and imperialist capitalism.
For those of us who have lived through much of this new century, it feels like we are experiencing déjà vécu. That is, the intense and persistent sensation of having faced the same experience in the past, of reliving in real time something we have “already lived through.” Of course, this neuropsychological phenomenon often leads us to believe that history repeats itself. But history never repeats itself. Historical events never unfold the same way, although patterns, power structures, and even human behaviors tend to recur or exhibit striking similarities. The context always changes, even though the underlying dynamics persist. This often points to certain “continuities”—despite obvious differences in time, place, and actors—in the way wars, economic crises, or political transformations unfold. Circumstances and characters change, but the essence of events is recycled. Thus, in the midst of the 21st century, we are witnessing the remastering of the armed conflicts, economic crises, and political transformations that made history in the last century. However, today the context is terrifyingly different thanks to “the permanent revolution of technology” (as Günter Anders put it). “New technologies” are shaking up not only markets but also the geopolitical landscape. War, once again, demonstrates the mutual dependence between technological innovation and the machinery of war.
*** Back to the Leftist Temptation
For just over a century, social democracy and the far left of the power have devoted themselves to co-opting anti-authoritarian struggles and anarchist insurrection. The result has been the imposition of an alien conceptual framework that, over time, has consolidated the political and cultural hegemony of these auxiliary forces of domination within our ranks. In the early years of the 20th century, particularly in the context of World War I and immediately afterward in the wake of the Bolshevik coup of 1917, the effects of this ideological colonization became clear.[13] The distortions of Kropotkin (his support for the Triple Entente)[14] and the idolization of Lenin by the Anarcho-Bolsheviks of the Río de la Plata clearly summarize the consequences of this penetration.[15]
It is understandable that there is a preference for “anti-imperialist and popular” states among the ranks of social democracy, the far left of the power, and revolutionary nationalism. Likewise, it is understandable that they invoke “national sovereignty” and “international law,” or express concern over the tragic fate of tyrants, call for support of national dictatorships and oligarchies, or advocate for the creation of new states (Palestine and Kurdistan).[16] All of this fits perfectly with the counterinsurgent nature and opportunistic bent of these political tendencies. But what is impossible to understand is that the same discourses are being repeated in anarchist circles. Much less that, in the name of the “unity of the anti-imperialist struggle,” there are calls to revive the “Anti-Fascist Popular Front” or invitations to vote for the Democratic Party (in the U.S.), for SUMAR (in Spain), or for MORENA (in Mexico) to “halt the advance of fascism.” This disconnect from praxis only demonstrates, in practice, the flagrant deterioration of the meaning—and signifier—of Acracy.
It is time for us to realize the urgency of reinforcing our common foundation. This exercise in uncompromising reaffirmation is becoming increasingly necessary in the face of the leftist temptation that is once again shaking our foundations. Anarchism, particularly in the circles of so-called “organized anarchism,” are colonized by social democracy and the far-left establishment. There is not a single statement or initiative regarding the ongoing war that does not amply corroborate the above.[17] Moreover, left-wing Jew-hatred has deeply penetrated these circles.[18]
As the temptation persists and its penetration flourishes, anti-fascism once again becomes the recruitment strategy for war. This explains the participation of “anarchist soldiers” in various armed conflicts and the stance of certain left-wing libertarians toward “foreign intervention” in support of internal despotism in Venezuela, Iran, or Cuba, opting for the “faute de mieux [lesser evil] par excellence” and the illusory distinction between “aggressor and victim.” Or, failing that, liberal libertarians aligning with the conservative opposition and social democracy to confront “Castro-Chavista fascism.” In this way, both unhesitatingly promote the false reformist antagonism (“populism vs. liberal pluralism” or “socialism vs. capitalism”). These postmodern Kropotkinists, who champion—alongside other “ists”— “anti-authoritarian inclusion” and “revolutionary diversity,” have repeated the shameful alignment (and alienation) of their putative father.
“Anti-authoritarian pluralism”—the undisputed manager of anarchism with a lowercase “a”—is a foul dumping ground for recycled counterinsurgents. There we find the protagonists of the “new” anti-fascism: unemployed ex-Bolsheviks, cultural Marxists, complicit pacifists, liberals on steroids, seasonal anarcho-populists, defenders of “human rights,” intergalactic neo-Zapatistas, St. Pauli (or América) hooligans, revolutionary nationalists, militant decolonialists, compulsive neo-hippies, septuagenarian autonomists, countercultural managers, coercive degrowth advocates, outdated neo-platformists, and toothless punks, among other defenders of “anarchist armies,” hot ice cream, and self-managed masturbation.
We have always opposed war. Not from a position of complicit pacifism or toxic nonviolence, but from an anarchist anti-war stance, aware that armies are an instrument of oppression used by the State—by ALL States—and that war must necessarily be transformed into permanent insurrection in every corner of the planet. States—ALL of them—are inherently imperialist, regardless of their military capabilities, technological development, or economic prosperity. That is why no “foreign intervention” is needed to go out and fight. The enemy has always been at home. Whether called socialist or capitalist, democratic or fascist, populist or libertarian, secular or Islamist, imperialist or anti-imperialist, conservative or liberal: whoever holds power is our enemy. Domination does not change its nature, its oppressive nature, or its deadly essence based on ideology. Nor does it change after having “suffered imperialist aggression.” Power remains the enemy regardless of the color that cloaks it or its status as aggressor or victim.
This long-standing reflection is the decentralized centrality of Anarchy, the anti-principle of the an-archic principle, the present pregnant with Acracy. The theoretical and practical nature of the disruptive potential that inspired the subversive movements of the 19th and 20th centuries and continues to fuel anarchist insurrection well into the 21st century. Proof of this lies in the ongoing insurrectionary actions across various regions and the solidarity demonstrated through concrete acts with our comrades held captive in the dungeons of domination. Nevertheless—and much to our regret—there are still dozens of self-proclaimed “anarchists” who, in an attempt to fit into a foreign family tree, preach “critical solidarity” with dictatorial regimes and call for the defense of nation-states in the name of anti-imperialism, anti-fascism, or national liberation. These positions complicit with domination have a long history in our ranks. Their historical role has been to sow confusion. Hence their proposals for “people’s power,” “parallel power,” “counterpower,” “self-government,” “self-institution,” and the oxymoron “instituting anarchism.”
A sign of the penetration of anti-imperialism, anti-fascism, and the doctrine of national liberation into our ranks is the unquestioning acceptance of “democratic confederalism.”[19] The Tekoşîna Anarşîst (Anarchist Struggle) platoon is a clear example of its devastating impact. Formed in 2017 amid the critical days of the war against “Islamic fascism,” this “auxiliary military unit” was established with the aim of “supporting and defending the nationalist revolution in Rojava,” which was threatened by the theocratic totalitarianism of the Islamic State (ISIS) and the imperialist ambitions of Iran and Turkey. In this context, and inspired by the fallacy of the “people in arms” and the Comintern’s infectious legend surrounding the brigades of “anti-fascist volunteers” in Spain in 1936, dozens of young anarchists around the world would join the International Liberation Brigade (IFB) with the aim of fighting alongside the People’s Militias (YPJ/YPG).[20] We assume that, due to language barriers, they have never considered the origin of the weapons they wield or that, captive to revolutionary pragmatism, they have turned a blind eye, adhering to the old maxim that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” The truth is that their “practicality” is not an isolated incident.
The same pattern is repeated more than 2,000 kilometers away. On the front lines in Ukraine, we also find “anarchist soldiers.”[21] The most emblematic example is that of the Колективи Солідарності (Solidarity Collective). Formed in 2022 following the “Russian imperialist invasion,” this collective advocate for “anti-authoritarian pluralism.” As Kseniia—one of the group’s activists living in Kyiv—explains: “Some of us are anarchists; there are feminist activists, progressives, environmentalists, and people on the left. Some do not identify politically but share progressive ideas in general (LGBTQ+ rights, women’s rights, environmental rights…)”.[22] It is worth noting that some of its members “decided to enlist” in the Ukrainian army, while another group “is training to build and program drones and deliver them to anti-authoritarian or left-wing soldiers.”[23]
It is nothing short of mind-boggling—to say the least—that these “anarchist soldiers,” much like their counterparts in Rojava, embrace Machiavellian principles, pay no heed to the origin of their weapons, and remain unfazed by their tactical role in the service of NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization). It is even more aberrant that they forge relationships and collaborate with other movements such as the Syrian Democratic Forces “where some internationalists also fight” (such as Tekoşîna Anarşîst) and fail to take into account that one of the states militarily harassing the Kurdish forces (Turkey) is part of NATO. But, as we have seen, such trifles are not a determining factor. The “anarchist soldiers” fighting alongside the Democratic Forces are also unconcerned that Israel and the United States are their tactical allies in the struggle for the liberation of Iranian Kurdistan.
All these distortions reveal the absence of an anarchic disposition. In other words, the lack of that gravitational force that creates the attractive interaction between practice and theory. Without that force, there is no Anarchy. It all boils down to a forced clamour of borrowed concepts and empty words.
The anarchist struggle cannot be confined to the left of power. This not only amounts to taking sides in a sham; it also implies accepting the false dichotomy of “socialism or barbarism,” forgetting that Leninism and Nazism were irrefutable expressions of a barbaric socialism. Anarchy is neither of the left nor, obviously, of the right. Both positions are situated on one side or the other of power and drive constituent processes. Anarchy, on the other hand, is an intrinsically destituent force that seeks the definitive destruction of all arché (order, power, hierarchy, or principle), including any project that seeks to occupy the place of the destituated power.
Gustavo Rodríguez, Planet Earth, March 29, 2026.
**** Postscript 1 (a timely clarification):
I am not a utopian; I am aware that it is impossible to destroy every arche, but I am convinced of the an-archic potential of permanent insurrection and its unpredictable subversion of order.
**** Postscript 2 (second clarification):
A misinterpretation of this text might lead one to assume that I endorse the putschist tactic of “revolutionary defeatism” promoted by Leninist counterinsurgency (Stalinists and Trotskyists). Nothing could be further from the intent of these words. My critique of Kropotkin’s chauvinism or the “revolutionary defensism” of ministerial anarchism in the Spanish Republic stems from the anarchic yearning for total liberation and not from approval of the Bolshevik theses.
**** Postscript 3 (from a self-proclaimed fortune-teller):
In the recent past, we watched with cringeworthy embarrassment as the Anarchist Black Cross Federation (ABCF) included the five spies of the Cuban dictatorship imprisoned in the United States in its reports on anarchist and social prisoners. Today, we should not be surprised if they add dictator Maduro (and his wife) to their list and launch a letter-writing campaign—or a prayer chain—for their immediate release.
[1] Deleuze, Gilles (2019). Nietzsche. Buenos Aires: Cactus. Trans. Pablo Ires. p. 30.
[2] There are discrepancies regarding the figure. Some sources claim that more than 20,000 marines took part in the invasion.
[3] He had taken refuge at the Apostolic Nunciature of the Holy See.
[4] Rodríguez, Gustavo (1990). Rival Drug Gangs Clash in Panama. New York: Love & Rage/Amor y Rabia. Vol. 1, No. 1. pp. 6 and 13. Spanish version in the same publication. pp. 2 and 6.
[5] Tilly, Charles (1985) «War Making and State Making as Organizad Crime». En Bringing the State Back. Evans, P., Rueschemeyer, D. y Skocpol, T. (eds.). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[6] Barret, Daniel (2011). The Seditious Awakening of Anarchy. Buenos Aires: Libros de Anarres. p. 21. A digitized version in Spanish only is available online at: https://www.acuedi.org/ddata/F8359.pdf (Accessed March 23, 2026).
[7] The best example of the persistence of military corruption was the appointment of Colonel Eduardo Herrera Hassán as commander-in-chief of Panama’s “new” Public Forces (comprising 90% of the personnel from the former Defense Forces), by order of President Endara. At the time of the U.S. invasion, Herrera Hassán was in exile in Miami due to disagreements with General Manuel Antonio Noriega, but he had a long history of complicity with the military regime dating back to 1968, when he participated in the coup d’état that overthrew the government of Arnulfo Arias as chief of security for General Omar Torrijos Herrera (the “supreme leader of the Panamanian Revolution”). Once in power, Torrijos put him in charge of the Urracá military company and tasked him with fighting the guerrillas, imprisoning all supporters of the ousted government, and “pacifying” the rebel military. Following Torrijos’s “accidental death,” he became General Noriega’s right-hand man. Noriega would appoint him Panama’s ambassador to Israel, from where he would organize arms trafficking to Central and South America. Eleven months after the invasion and his appointment as head of the Public Forces, he unsuccessfully attempted a coup against President Endara, a move that would spell the end of his career.
[8] The strategy, clearly politically motivated, had been designed with a deeply racist undertone, with the intention of repressing African American communities and, at the same time, criminalizing the countercultural movements that opposed the war in Indochina. It is worth noting that, although rates of drug use are similar among whites and people of African descent, the “war on drugs” resulted in the disproportionate incarceration of minorities (people of African descent, Latinos, and Native Americans), laying the groundwork for today’s prison overcrowding.
[9] Bush allocated $2.2 billion to this initiative with the aim of combating cocaine trafficking and production in its places of origin. In this context, the Pentagon provided military equipment, intelligence technology, and training to the armed forces of Peru, Bolivia, and Colombia. Part of the “Andean Initiative” budget would be used “discretionarily” to support the expansion of the self-defense forces in Colombia. These paramilitary structures, which in the 1990s would evolve into the United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia (AUC), were to be armed and trained with the aim of combating the narco-guerrillas (FARC, ELN), thereby consolidating a counterinsurgency project that marked the beginning of an era of extreme violence and atrocious crimes against the civilian population that was allegedly serving as a support base for the guerrillas.
[10] Fourteen high-ranking officers of the Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR) were reportedly charged and sentenced for drug trafficking and corruption. Seven were sentenced to death—including Major General Arnaldo Ochoa Sánchez (“National Hero of Cuba”)—while the remaining seven received prison terms ranging from 15 to 30 years.
[11] Guattari, Félix. (2004) Plan sobre el planeta. Capitalismo mundial integrado y revoluciones moleculares. Madrid: Traficantes de sueños. Edited and annotated by Raúl Sánchez Cedillo; translated by Marisa Pérez Colina, Raúl Sánchez, Josep Sarret, Miguel Denis Norambuena, and Lluís Mara Todó. p. 61. Emphasis added. Available at: https://traficantes.net/sites/default/files/pdfs/Plan%20sobre%20el%20planeta-TdS.pdf . (Accessed March 23, 2026).
[12] On Thursday, January 15, 2026, Delcy Rodríguez met at the Miraflores Palace with CIA Director John Ratcliffe, and they established a plan regarding “intelligence and economic stability.” On February 2, she received Laura Dogu, the U.S. Chargé d’Affaires for the Venezuela Affairs Unit, at the presidential palace, with whom she signed agreements on “energy, politics, the economy, and trade.” On February 11, she met with Secretary of Energy Christopher Wright, agreeing to “establish a long-term productive partnership that would enable an energy agenda to become the driving force of the bilateral relationship, and that this agenda be effective, productive, and beneficial to both countries.” On February 18, both governments “agreed to work on developing a bilateral cooperation agenda to combat illicit drug trafficking in the region, migration, and other issues.” On February 26, less than a month after the U.S. military incursion, the new “acting president” declared Trump a “friend and partner” of Venezuela during a speech delivered to young people in Caracas at the Sala Ríos Reina of the Teresa Carreño Theater. Information obtained from official sources of Venezuela’s “acting” government. Cf. Yuleidys Hernández Toledo (02/26/2026). “Delcy Rodríguez is determined! She called on Trump to end the blockade and sanctions.” Diario VEA. Available only in Spanish at: https://diariovea.com.ve/delcy-rodriguez-a-trump-como-amigo-y-socios-de-eeuu-que-somos-cese-el-bloqueo-y-las-sanciones/ (Accessed March 23, 2026).
[13] As Volin reminds us, the Bolsheviks used “slogans that, until then, had been characteristic of anarchism,” completely altering their meaning. See: Vsevolod Mikhailovich Eichenbaum [1947]. La révolution inconnue, Russie 1917-1921 (Paris), pp. 185–186. Trans. The Unknown Revolution, available at: https://theanarchistlibrary-org.translate.goog/library/voline-the-unknown-revolution-1917-1921-book-one-birth-growth-and-triumph-of-the-revolution?_x_tr_sl=en&_x_tr_tl=es&_x_tr_hl=es&_x_tr_pto=tc (Accessed March 23, 2026).
[14] Prince Pyotr Alekseyevich Kropotkin’s deplorable call to actively join the ranks of the Holy Alliance—that is, alongside the French, British, and Russian (and later American) armies—was shamefully set forth in his letter of February 2, 1914, in which he branded the anarchists who consistently opposed participating in the war as “cowards.” He would amply reaffirm this counterinsurgent and jingoistic call after two years of carnage at the front, putting it on record in the ill-fated “Manifesto of the 15” (February 28, 1916), where, in harmony with the revolutionary syndicalists and socialists, they called for war in the face of the “German threat not only against our hopes for emancipation, but against the entire evolution of humanity.” Our Emma Goldman would have taken a relentlessly critical stance against the avowed chauvinism of Kropotkin and his followers; however, leftist tendencies within our ranks have kept him on the pedestal of heroes and continue to republish his books in the 21st century. For more information on the Letter of the Fifteen, see Bonanno, Alfredo M. (2012), The Manifesto of the Sixteen. At: https: https://libertamen.wordpress.com/2022/04/20/el-manifiesto-de-los-dieciseis-2012-alfredo-m-bonanno/ (Accessed March 24, 2026).
[15] Although this phenomenon was not unique to the southern region—since the anarchist movement as a whole embraced the cause of the “proven revolution” and the “maximalist movement” in the wake of the October Revolution—in the Río de la Plata region, the development of anarcho-Bolshevism left ample evidence of its existence in the newspaper *Bandera Roja* (1919), La Rebelión (1924–25), and El Comunista (1920–21)—all from Rosario—El Libertario (1923–30) from Buenos Aires, and La Batalla (1919–1924) from Montevideo. It is worth noting that this attempt at an anarcho-Bolshevik merger did not survive the military coup of 1930. Some of the leaders of this contradictory alliance would eventually join the Communist Party, as was the case with Elías Castelnuovo and Marcos Kaner. All documentation on this subject is available at the Max Nettlau Archive at the Institute of Social History in Amsterdam.
[16] In light of our consistent opposition to the formation of new nation-states, it is worth reading Comrade Alfredo Bonnano’s assessments of the struggle in Palestine. See: “No allo Stato Palestinese” (No to the Palestinian State), published in *ProvocAzione* no. 18, December 1988, pp. 1–2.
[17] The articles and press releases on the Abolitionmedia website provide a clear account of this. See: https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/ (Accessed March 25, 2026).
[18] To verify these inaccuracies, it is worth consulting the article by Ron Tabor. See: https://utopiantendency.org/2024/08/02/ron-tabor-on-left-wing-anti-semitism/ (Accessed March 25, 2026).
[19] “Democratic confederalism” is the model of “self-governance” proposed by the former Kurdistan Workers’ Party (Partiya Karkerên Kurdistan, in Kurmanji). This Marxist-Leninist-Maoist political-military organization, founded in Turkey by Abdullah Öcalan in November 1978, promoted “prolonged people’s war” as a method of struggle for the reunification of the Kurdish people and the establishment of an independent and sovereign state. In 2005, after 30 years of struggle, in the context of the Gulf War and the U.S. invasion of Iraq, its supreme leader (Öcalan), inspired by Murray Bookchin’s Trotskyist eco-municipalism, called from prison for the abandonment of the Maoist line and the embrace of “democratic confederalism.” For more information, see: Declaration of Democratic Confederalism in Kurdistan, available at: http: http://www.freemedialibrary.com/index.php/Declaration_of_Democratic_Confederalism_in_Kurdistan (Accessed March 26. 2026).
[20] People's Protection Units (Yekîneyên Parastina Gel, in Kurmanji) and Women's Protection Units (Yekîneyên Parastina Jin, in Kurmanji). Both units are the main component of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) and operate as the armed forces of the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria.
[21] To verify these inaccuracies, please visit the website: https://www.solidaritycollectives.org/en/about-us/ (Accessed March 26. 2026).
[22] See: Being Anarchists and at War: The Experience of Solidarity Collectives in Ukraine. Report by Francesca Barca. Translated into Spanish by Rafael Aparicio Martín. https://voxeurop.eu/es/anarquista-guerra-ucrania-solidarity-collective/# (Accessed March 26, 2026).
[23] Id.