The Localist Manifesto

section 13
reclaiming sacred ground
The 1% are expecting us to get it together at some point and come for them. They have fortified the summits and now wait for us to charge up the hill. But we are not coming by that route. Not this time. We must not condition ourselves to the logic of warfare. The year of the heroic guerilla has come and gone. May those warriors rest, at least, in peace. We will advance like an invasive species, slowly choking the life from big, oppressive institutions by making better use than they do of the soil, the sun, and the rain. We will make ourselves native to our territory by wisely and peacefully displacing whatever is wasteful and destructive of it. While that long process is underway, we will have to learn to coexist with remnants of the old order. Most banks and corporations will survive the death of real estate. It will be a while before we are in a position to take over all the functions of existing governments. But take over we surely will, as we patiently create a new way of life in our neighborhood homelands and deliberately take command of our own well-being and that of the land we inhabit. Every gain made in that direction strengthens our capacity to adapt existing institutions, even the big ones, to our way of thinking and getting things done. With millions of merry Robin 99 rebels, we will be strong enough to shut down any operations that we decide, in our assemblies, are incompatible with well-being as we define it. It is hard to imagine fracking, mountaintop removal, the American Petroleum Institute, CAFOs, Monsanto, Goldman Sachs, Walmart, or Amazon surviving long in our midst. A society reorganizing itself on localist lines would not feel obliged to subsidize fossil fuel companies and agribusinesses. Let us see how they fare without the billions of taxpayer dollars they now receive every year. A delicious irony indeed, that these boosters of capitalism unbound might be subdued by a dose of laissez faire. Nor would such a society be much interested in imposing its will, through warfare or extortion, on other countries. It is hard to imagine that local re-settlers will continue to fund the hundreds of military bases the US currently maintains on foreign soil or the expensive weapons systems it manufactures and deploys to safeguard the interests of banks and corporations around the world. Two big piles of money indeed, now available for our own purposes.
At the same time, the scope and pace of our actions must be determined by our capacity to assume responsibility for them. We cannot tear big things down before a functioning infrastructure of local and regional provisioning is in place to replace them. Demolition and resettlement must proceed together on a scale where poor decisions or unforeseen setbacks can be weathered without producing unmanageable hardship. We cannot count anyone out or leave anyone behind, regardless of what they look like or choose to believe. That is the promise embedded in a baggy concept like “the 99%” as a guide to game-changing activism: it does not (cannot possibly, given its size and make-up) designate a group of people who share some role-defining identity or exclusively correct opinions but one whose members have resolved, all differences aside, to secure life, liberty, and peace of mind as inhabitants of a shared locality. If we are serious about winning, we will organize alongside people we might not want to have over for dinner.
In all that we do, mutual trust will be our most valuable resource. It is easily eroded but infinitely renewable. It stimulates the growth of fresh possibilities and fosters the broad-minded inquisitiveness needed if we are to recognize and cultivate the most promising ones. It is what remains after we throw off the bonds of compulsion that now keep us harnessed to our duties and our labors. It reduces our need for cops, lawyers, and prisons. It nurtures the courage and empathy we will need to heal the deep fissures bequeathed to us by centuries of violence and oppression. It thrives best in face-to-face localities but once established there spreads contagiously into the remote and unfamiliar. It alone makes democracy sustainable.
Let us begin here and now. No need to pitch a tent in a park, fight the police in the street, or spend a night in jail. Spread the word. Organize a festival. Gather up votes for Robin 99. Those votes will count for something: they give us the power to take control of our bit of earth and, on ground made sacred by our manner of occupying it, build an enduring foundation for individual freedom and communal well-being. That is the world we need to win.