Within the framework of the anarchist revolutionary struggle, the
economic question cannot remain a footnote. The economy is not a"neutral" field nor a technical dimension separate from politics; it is
one of the terrains where power relations are reproduced. Any political
strategy that seeks to radically transform society must clearly assume
that without resources, there is no real possibility of sustaining
processes of struggle, building popular power, or protecting our
comrades from state repression or capitalist sabotage. Material means do
not guarantee emancipation in and of themselves, but their absence can
condemn it to failure or reduce it to merely symbolic expressions.
We need to provide ourselves with financial resources not only to
survive, but also to take the initiative. Resources to print pamphlets,
produce propaganda, maintain local and safe spaces, fund resistance
funds, send delegates to meetings, support those who fall into the hands
of (in)justice, organize and sustain long strikes, support political
training processes, address the basic needs of precarious activists, or
fund cooperative projects that strengthen autonomy.
Building a robust economic foundation is an urgent necessity: it allows
our organizations to function autonomously, resist repression, expand
their influence, and meet the basic needs of their members. This is not
about falling into a mercantilist logic, but rather about putting into
practice an ethic of collective care with sufficient resources to
sustain and scale our struggles.
Politics without the material means to reproduce and expand itself ends
up retreating into the symbolic; organizations without the capacity to
sustain strikes, legally support their activists, or simply print
propaganda are neutralized by the weight of poverty and isolation. This
essay addresses the urgency of adopting a militant economic praxis,
inspired by historical examples of anarchism and informed by
contemporary contributions that combine a critique of capital with
concrete organizational proposals.
Militancy with a budget: the financial muscle of the movement
From paying fines and court costs to supporting resistance funds,
political events, awareness campaigns, care networks, or soup kitchens,
every organization needs stable resources. It is not a luxury or a whim,
but a vital element that defines the real scope of political action.
This is not a concession to liberal economicism, but a materialist
affirmation: our structures must be able to resist, reproduce, and grow
if they are to have any structural impact. Every revolutionary action
needs a financial base that allows for continuity and projection.
Precariousness cannot be the mode of existence for a movement that seeks
to transform the material conditions of life.
Having regular contributions, charitable donations, or income from the
sale of political materials (books, fanzines, T-shirts, posters, etc.)
is essential to sustaining our initiatives without depending on the
state, NGOs, or grants that impose conditions and limit autonomy.
Self-management also begins with how we fund our activities. Regular
contributions, however small, allow us to plan, anticipate, and respond
to emergencies. Donation campaigns or political fairs can also be
moments to raise awareness of the project and strengthen ties with
supporters and allies.
In the history of anarchism, the economy has never been an alien or
neglected topic. In the 1930s, the CNT not only organized strikes but
also built a complex network of social structures: athenaeums,
rationalist schools, consumer cooperatives, care centers, publishing
houses, cultural groups, and advocacy networks. This economic ecosystem
made it possible to sustain daily struggles and project a comprehensive
alternative to capitalist society. Anarchists like Bakunin understood
this dimension: he himself financed revolutionary expeditions to support
the organization of libertarian cells in different regions of Europe,
knowing that the movement requires resources, logistics, and planning to
expand. A practical case in point is Fanelli's arrival in Spain.
It's not about accumulating wealth or capital, but about building a
common fund, a popular infrastructure at the service of revolutionary
ends. Abraham Guillén made it clear: "Self-management without control of
economic means is a farce." Organizations need not only political
autonomy, but also economic sovereignty. Otherwise, it implies constant
dependence on external actors, individual voluntarism, or cycles of
enthusiasm that don't guarantee continuity. Only with a solid financial
foundation can we think about long-term processes, territorial
expansion, internationalism, or the emotional and material support of
those on the front lines of the struggle.
From the workshop to the barricade: communities that built power
During the Spanish Revolution of 1936, in the territories where the coup
d'état partially failed and power remained in the hands of workers'
committees and popular militias, processes of social revolution and
anti-fascist war developed simultaneously. Among these, large-scale
agrarian and industrial collectivization stood out, especially in
regions such as Aragon, Catalonia, and the Valencian Country. In these
territories, rural communities and urban factories came to be
collectively managed by their workers, without bosses or state
bureaucracy. The collectives were promoted primarily by militants of the
National Confederation of Labor (CNT), which had been developing
theoretical and practical proposals for self-management since the
previous decade.
In rural areas, collectivization meant the socialization of land, tools,
and resources, with the goal of eliminating wage labor and organizing
production based on social needs. In many areas, regional federations
were created, allowing for coordination between villages. In urban
areas, hundreds of factories, workshops, and services were taken over by
their workforces and reorganized under the principles of workers'
control. Despite the lack of a centralized plan, production was
maintained in strategic sectors such as food, transportation, and the
war industry.
These experiences were exhaustively addressed by Miguel Gómez in his
work The CNT and the New Economy. From Collectivism to the Planning of
the Confederal Economy (1936-1939) . It analyzes how the libertarian
movement, through the CNT, developed economic planning proposals during
the Second Republic and the Civil War, and how these were articulated
with the reality of the social revolution. Gómez documents the evolution
from spontaneous socialization to the creation of structures such as the
Confederal Economic Council (CEC), which sought to coordinate productive
efforts from a libertarian perspective.
Gómez also points out that this social revolution was not led by a
vanguard, but rather by the workers' and peasants' rank and file, who
responded to the power vacuum left by businessmen and landowners
implicated in the military coup. He also emphasizes how the CNT's
participation in organizations such as the Anti-Fascist Militia
Committee, the Economic Council of the Generalitat (Catalan Government),
and even the Republican government reflected a complex and contradictory
strategy: collaborating with the state on a temporary basis to sustain
the revolution and confront the war, without completely renouncing
libertarian principles.
The collectives faced numerous challenges: political pressure from
statist and Stalinist sectors, logistical difficulties arising from the
war, and internal tensions over the desired degree of centralization.
Beginning in 1937, following the May Events in Barcelona and the
dissolution of the Council of Aragon, the collectivization process began
to be dismantled by counterrevolutionary forces within the Republican
camp itself.
Despite everything, the collectives demonstrated that it was possible to
organize the economy on egalitarian, cooperative, and democratic
foundations, even in a context of total war. The confederal planning
model promoted by the CNT, although unfinished, constitutes one of the
most ambitious and advanced experiments in libertarian economic
construction in contemporary history.
Anarchist Economics - Principles and Practice
From Kropotkin to Michael Albert, through Abraham Guillén, Iain McKay,
Asimakopoulos, Wayne Price, and even the critical analysis of Marx, the
anarchist tradition has offered concrete analyses and proposals for an
economy that breaks with the logic of capital and builds libertarian and
emancipatory alternatives.
Kropotkin, in The Conquest of Bread and Fields, Factories, and Workshops
, argues that the economy must be organized around the direct
satisfaction of human needs. He proposes radical decentralization, the
abolition of wages, and production based on cooperation, mutual aid, and
free association. For him, a free society is not possible while
resources are under the control of a few: the expropriation of the means
of production must be accompanied by their communal and horizontal
management.
Abraham Guillén, a more technically inclined and linked to Iberian and
Latin American anarchism, proposes a model of democratic planning based
on economic federations, territorial assemblies, and workers' control.
In his view, libertarian economics is not spontaneous, but organized,
scientific, and oriented toward the common good. It provides tools for
considering how to scale self-management without falling into chaos or
state centralization, a challenge that every revolutionary organization
must seriously address.
Michael Albert, with his proposal for parecon or participatory
economics, proposes concrete institutional mechanisms to overcome both
capitalism and authoritarian socialism: workers' and consumers'
councils, remuneration based on effort and sacrifice, balanced work
complexes, and participatory planning without a market or state. His
model allows us to imagine a functioning economy without economic
hierarchies, propertied classes, or planning bureaucrats.
Iain McKay, author of An Anarchist FAQ and various studies on
libertarian economics, emphasizes the importance of linking theory and
practice: anarchist economics is not a utopian abstraction, but a living
tradition that has been practiced in numerous historical experiences.
McKay also emphasizes that, although the abolition of capitalism is
fundamental, the process must be guided by principles such as mutual
aid, equity, decentralization, and economic direct action.
Wayne Price, for his part, defends the need for a libertarian economics
that critically incorporates Marxist tools, without falling into
authoritarianism, but without abandoning class analysis. He recognizes
in Marx a powerful critique of capitalism-especially in his analysis of
value, accumulation, and exploitation-which can be harnessed from a
libertarian perspective if the path of statism and centralism is
avoided. Bakunin had already anticipated this in his critiques of Marx:
the problem was not economic analysis, but its translation into
authoritarian structures. In this sense, an anarchist economics does not
deny the usefulness of certain Marxist categories, but redirects them
toward a horizon of emancipation without the State or dominant classes.
The case of the evangelical churches: Solidarity or submission?
In many working-class, migrant, and marginalized territories, where the
state is absent and the market only guarantees exploitation, evangelical
churches have managed to build a strong social presence. They have
inserted themselves into communities plagued by unemployment, violence,
and precariousness, offering what the system denies: food, listening,
companionship, activities for children, connections, and meaning. They
have understood, with disturbing effectiveness, that hegemony is not won
solely from the pulpit, but from the material base.
But this insertion is neither innocent nor emancipatory. These churches
act as buffers for social conflict, channeling rage into resignation and
proposing individual salvation as a substitute for collective
transformation. The story of these churches' arrival in Latin America
would provide an essay in itself, given that they were part of a CIA
psyop 1 (simply put, they saw Catholicism as influenced by Bolshevism
and were fearful of the revolutions that might come). From an anarchist
and class perspective, they constitute a particularly insidious form of
social control. They promote deeply conservative values: obedience to
authority, personal guilt for poverty, female submission, rejection of
critical thinking, and punitive moralism. The central message is clear:
if you suffer, it's because you don't have enough faith, not because the
system is rotten.
One of the economic pillars of these churches is the mandatory tithe: a
minimum contribution-usually 10% of personal income-that each believer
must make as a sign of their spiritual commitment. In practice, the
tithe becomes a systematic form of resource extraction from the working
classes, who often give money under moral coercion, even when they live
in conditions of need. These structures operate as authentic businesses,
with business models based on loyalty, guilt, and obedience. In
countries like Brazil, Mexico, and the Philippines, some evangelical
churches (and specifically, neo-Pentecostals) accumulate real estate
capital, media outlets, political parties, and patronage networks that
are more reminiscent of corporate conglomerates than spiritual communities.
It is no coincidence that in Latin America, the United States, and
Europe, various evangelical churches have been implicated in scandals
that reveal their reactionary and exploitative nature. In Brazil,
figures linked to prosperity theology have been tried for money
laundering, fraud, and emotional manipulation of the faithful. In the
United States, megachurches have enriched themselves at the expense of
impoverished communities, defending anti-abortion, racist, and
homophobic agendas. In Europe, some evangelical organizations have been
questioned for coercive and sectarian practices and for receiving public
funds supposedly intended for social work. These are not exceptions, but
rather a structural logic: these churches present themselves as
spiritual salvation while consolidating networks of conservative power
at the service of the status quo .
For anarchists, the challenge is not to compete for religious discourse,
but to contest its place in the social fabric. What we must learn is not
its theology, but its capacity to build a sustained material presence.
We must build networks of mutual support, spaces of accompaniment and
solidarity, soup kitchens, self-managed educational projects, health
brigades, play and cultural spaces for children. Because if we don't
fill these gaps from a libertarian practice, others will. And when they
do so from reactionary positions, they divert popular power toward
obedience and guilt.
The struggle against these forms of spiritual and economic domination is
not only waged in the traditional political or union sphere: it is
also-and often primarily-played out in neighborhoods, in popular
communities, in the spaces where everyday life is organized. When
evangelical churches convince the working class to hand over part of
their already meager income in exchange for a place in heaven, we are
facing a concrete defeat in the struggle for meaning, connections, and
redistribution. If we do not occupy these territories with libertarian,
supportive, and combative projects, those who occupy them divert the
need for justice toward blind faith and individual sacrifice. We cannot
allow class enemies to disguise themselves as aid while reproducing
structures of obedience, guilt, and submission.
Resources for the revolt
A revolutionary economy begins with solid principles and clear
practices. It's not just about resisting: it's about building, from now
on, ways of life and organization that embody the values we defend. The
way we manage resources reveals our political ethics. In this sense, it
is essential to reject individual gain within collective structures:
those who enrich themselves at the expense of the organization break the
principle of trust and corrode the common fabric. The private
appropriation of collective resources is a betrayal of any libertarian
horizon.
All income must be returned to the struggle. Every donation, every
membership fee, every euro generated through self-organized activities
must be reinvested in strengthening our capacities: supporting local
communities, publishing materials, ensuring care networks, and offering
direct aid to those in need. There is no such thing as "spare" money
when the revolution is at stake. Every resource counts and must be
directed toward the common good.
For this reason, it is essential to build economic reserves, whether in
physical or digital format, to respond quickly to unforeseen situations:
repression, health emergencies, sabotage, urgent displacement. Failure
to plan condemns oneself to improvisation, and constant improvisation
exhausts and disarms.
Investing politically wisely means prioritizing those expenses that
strengthen our autonomy, cohesion, and outreach. Propaganda, safe
spaces, training and outreach tools, mutual support networks: these
aren't expenses, they're investments in people's power.
A libertarian economic structure must also be based on fair
contributions. It's not about imposing unattainable quotas, but rather
about designing supportive and proportional forms of economic
participation. Everyone contributes according to their means, but we all
share a common commitment.
Finally, we need to generate sustained returns: fairs, cooperatives,
workshops, publications. Activities that not only finance us, but also
connect us to our communities, expand our ideas, and strengthen real
ties. This generation of resources must avoid falling into the logic of
business. We don't compete with the market: we confront it. Nor do we
beg the State, which is part of the problem. Our economic autonomy is
not a technical detail: it is a condition that makes it possible for our
struggles to be lasting, coherent, and transformative.
Because without bread there is no freedom
The revolution will not be financed by philanthropists or sponsors. If
we want to build popular power, we must also build our own popular
economy. Not to reproduce capitalist logic, but to dismantle it. Not to
compete, but to live with dignity and fight better.
An organization that doesn't consider how to sustain itself materially
is doomed to fragility. A political strategy that doesn't consider the
economic dimension is incomplete. And an emancipatory project that
doesn't meet the needs of its members is doomed to decline.
Every revolutionary organization needs an economic base. Not as an end,
but as a means. To sustain strikes, open spaces, feed comrades, free
prisoners, care for children, and spread the seed of libertarianism to
every corner of the country.
Because without bread there is no freedom. And without economic
strategy, there is no lasting revolution.
Don Diego de la Vega, member of Liza , Anarchist Platform of Madrid
*If you have read this text and there are economic concepts that you do
not understand and would like to learn, such as central planning ,
parecon , libertarian economics, etc., we recommend that you listen to
the sessions of our course with Solidaridad Obrera on Introduction to
Libertarian Socialist Political Economy .
1. https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guerra_psicol%C3%B3gica
https://regeneracionlibertaria.org/2025/09/10/la-importancia-de-una-buena-base-economica-para-organizaciones-revolucionarias/
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