The world as we know it is a machine built on blood. A system of organized theft, terror, and dispossession. A machine that grinds Black life into profit and death. The twin pillars holding up this violent world are class society and the state — two weapons forged in the fires of colonial conquest and capitalist plunder.

From a militant Black radical perspective, it is not enough to describe these structures. It is not enough to “reform” them.

They must be destroyed. Burned down. Torn out at the root.

Class Society: Born in Chains, Covered in Black Blood

Class society did not “develop” like some slow accident of history. It was built through genocidal war. The moment Europeans stepped onto African soil, the racial ordering of the world began. Black people were not simply “exploited workers”; we were stolen bodies, commodified flesh, capital itself.

Through slavery, colonialism, and apartheid, racial capitalism emerged — a global system where whiteness was wealth, and Blackness was the mark of the expendable, the killable, the disposable. Cedric Robinson taught us: capitalism was born already racialized.

Class society has always been white supremacist. It has always depended on Black death to fuel white life.

The State: The Armed Guard of White Capital

The state is no “neutral” body. It is not some referee between interests. It is a gun pointed at the oppressed. It is the slave catcher, the colonial governor, the police officer with his knee on our necks.

The state exists to protect property, not people. And in this world, property was first built from stolen land and stolen Black bodies. From the earliest slave patrols to modern police departments, from colonial armies to imperial drones, the state exists to suppress Black resistance and maintain white capitalist rule.

The law? Written by the ruling class to legalize our subjugation.

The courts? Rubber stamps for the violence already dealt in the streets.

The politicians? Managers of empire.

The prisons? Modern-day plantations.

The state cannot be reformed. The state must be abolished.

Our Struggle: No Compromise, No Peace

Black resistance has never been about slow inclusion into a burning house. From the Maroons of Jamaica, to the warriors of Palmares in Brazil, to the Haitian Revolution — we have always known that survival demands revolt. Not negotiation. Not “better representation.” Not crumbs from the table. Burn the table down.

Frantz Fanon made it plain: the colonized do not politely request freedom. They take it. Through uprising. Through armed struggle. Through building new ways of living that do not depend on the death of others.

The Black radical tradition is a fighting tradition. It is the tradition of Nat Turner’s rebellion, of the Mau Mau uprising, of the Black Panthers’ programs for survival pending revolution. It is the tradition of George Jackson, who taught us that the prison is a microcosm of the whole system — and that freedom only comes through total confrontation.

We must end the illusion that capitalism can be “fixed.”

We must destroy the idea that the state can be made “humane.”

Revolution is not a metaphor. It is a necessity.

Abolition as Revolution

When we speak of abolition — of police, of prisons, of borders — we are speaking of the beginning of a new world. A world where wealth is not built from death. Where no empire loots entire continents. Where Black life is not conditional, criminalized, or expendable.

Abolition means:

Smashing the economic system that keeps billions in chains. Dismantling the military machine that invades and occupies Black nations. Ending the surveillance and policing of Black bodies. Building communal, collective ways of living outside capitalist extraction.

As Ruth Wilson Gilmore reminds us: abolition is about presence, not just absence.

It is about building real freedom — not just breaking our chains, but creating new forms of life where those chains can never be forged again.

Final Words: Fight to Win

This system will not collapse on its own. It must be pushed. It must be fought. It must be broken.

The oppressor does not relinquish power because of reasoned debate. The colonizer does not hand back stolen land because of petitions. Power only yields to organized, militant, determined struggle.

We are not fighting for reform.

We are not fighting for inclusion.

We are fighting for liberation — by any means necessary.

As Assata Shakur said:

“We must love each other and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains.”

And as the spirits of our ancestors urge us:

Rise. Resist. Rebel. Until we are free.