2026-05-02 19:30:00
This story was originally published by the Guardian and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration.
Looking out to sea from the grey sandy beaches of Santa Marta, on Colombia’s Caribbean coast, it is never hard to spot evidence of the country’s thriving fossil fuel export trade. Oil tankers ride at anchor on the horizon, and sometimes, locals say, lumps of coal wash up on the shore, blown off the collier ships that carry cargoes from the nearby mines.
It was here, on Wednesday evening, that the Colombian government took a bold step to shift its economy—and that of the rest of the world—away from dependence on coal, gas and oil and into a new era of clean energy. With the first-ever conference on “transitioning away from fossil fuels,” the host joined nearly 60 countries determined to loosen the grip of petrostates on the world’s future.
“This is the beginning of a new global climate democracy,” Irene Vélez Torres, Colombia’s environment minister and chair of the talks, said in closing remarks that celebrated a “new method” of bringing together high-ambition governments, parliamentarians and civil society groups to accelerate the decarbonisation of their economies.
“This is the beginning of a new global climate democracy.”
At this moment in history, the conference may also mark a new global divide between “electro-democracies” and petro-dictatorships.
The initiative has come at a pivotal moment in the climate fight. Oil and gas prices have soared since the US-Israeli attacks on Iran, the second such crisis within five years, after the price rises that followed Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Households around the world are spiralling into debt, farmers cannot afford fertiliser, and governments are remembering that a dependency on volatile fossil fuels is holding them hostage to geopolitical forces they cannot control.
The global economy faces a triple whammy: rising energy costs, rising food costs that follow, and the spectre of rampant inflation that will raise interest rates and add to the cost of servicing debt. Both rich and poor nations are feeling the impact, but the poor, with their higher levels of debt and lower reserves, are suffering more.
Repeated oil shocks blighted the 1970s, and the current crisis is not only greater than those but more impactful than all previous crises combined, according to Fatih Birol, the world’s leading energy economist and chief of the International Energy Agency, the gold standard in energy research. “This is bigger than all the biggest crises combined, and therefore huge,” he said in an exclusive Guardian interview. “I still cannot understand that the world was so blindsided, that the global economy can be held hostage to a 50km strait.”
What is different today from previous oil shocks is the ready availability of a viable alternative: cheap, reliable and plentiful renewable energy from the wind and sun, with modern battery technology to smooth over any intermittency; while electric vehicles and heat pumps can shunt transport and heating off fossil fuels and onto far more efficient electricity.
For those reasons, Birol predicted the current shock would mark a permanent change for the global energy industry, leading consumer countries to lose trust in fossil fuels. “Their perception of risk and reliability will change,” he said. “Governments will review their energy strategies. There will be a significant boost to renewables and nuclear power and a further shift towards a more electrified future. And this will cut into the main markets for oil.”
These changes would be lasting, he added. “The vase is broken, the damage is done—it will be very difficult to put the pieces back together. This will have permanent consequences for the global energy market for years to come.”
It is an irony not lost on Simon Stiell, the UN’s climate chief, that it is the oil industry’s dominance of global economies that has finally woken governments to the dangers. “The fossil fuel cost crisis now has its foot on the throat of the global economy,” he said. “Those who have fought to keep the world hooked on fossil fuels are inadvertently supercharging the global renewables boom.”
“Those who have fought to keep the world hooked on fossil fuels are inadvertently supercharging the global renewables boom.”
Renewables overtook coal in global electricity generation last year for the first time, according to the thinktank Ember, generating 33.8 percent of power compared with coal’s 33 percent. Interest from consumers in solar panels and batteries, from Pakistan to the UK, has leapt further since the Iran war.
“The economic logic of renewables [is] impossible to ignore,” Stiell said. Military advisers have weighed in, too, pointing out that renewables offer a better route than fossil fuels to national security. Stiell noted: “Governments are pushing renewables plans into overdrive: to restore national security, economic stability, competitiveness, policy autonomy and basic sovereignty.”
But no one should write off the petrostates just yet. The world’s biggest gas producer, the United States, is increasingly flexing its military muscle to assert the Trump administration’s goal of “energy dominance”. Russia, the second biggest gas supplier, is waging war against its democratic neighbor, Ukraine. Fossil fuel interests are pouring huge sums into the political campaigns of far-right candidates in the Americas and Europe.
The Santa Marta vision of a “new global climate democracy” sets people power against this. Polls constantly show an overwhelming majority of people want their governments to take stronger action against the climate crisis, but at many international meetings, their voices are drowned out by corporate lobbyists or shut down by petrostate vetoes.
At Santa Marta, by contrast, science led the way on the opening day, followed by a “people’s summit” and gatherings of parliamentarians. All of these groups sent representatives to the high-level sessions in the final two days, where there were no vetoes, no fractious negotiations over minutiae, only intensive and constructive dialogue on how to move forward. Many participants called the gathering historic, but few were under any illusions that it was anything more than a strong start.
Claudio Angelo, of the Observatorio do Clima, a think tank in Brazil, said: “I don’t think the Santa Marta process represents any immediate threat to the fossil fuel industry. This is more about countries organising to draw up a plan. Even within the ‘doers’, the fossil industry landscape is diverse: national oil companies in Latin America, private oil majors in Europe and parts of Africa. These folks will fight for lenient transition calendars until they’re either outcompeted by Chinese electricity or forced by governments to diversify.”
Though shifting to renewables will work out cheaper for all countries in the long-term, there is an upfront cost to the switch. Fossil fuel producer nations will also need finance to invest in new industries to replace lost oil, gas and coal export revenue.
The Santa Marta conference was not intended for new finance pledges – rich countries offered a settlement of $300 billion a year by 2035 at the Cop29 conference in 2029, and that will not be improved on now that the US has withdrawn its dollars.
But there could be other routes to finding cash. Diverting some of the $1.5tn currently spent each year on subsidising fossil fuels around the world would help, and raising money from the companies that have profited from the climate crisis, through windfall taxes and other mechanisms, is always an option. David Hillman, the director of the Make Polluters Pay coalition, said: “Fossil fuel giants are figuratively making a killing from this war. Their excessive unearned profits need to fund the transition to renewables to hasten the end of our fossil fuel dependence.”
Almost all of the 59 nations participating in Santa Marta are democracies, which is both a strength and a vulnerability. Colombia will hold a presidential election at the end of May in which the ruling party’s candidate, Iván Cepeda, faces a fierce challenge from the far-right populist Abelardo de la Espriella, who wants to increase fracking and oil production. If the latter wins, the global energy transition movement would lose one of its most important nations.
Colombia is not the only country facing difficulties. The Netherlands, co-host of Santa Marta, announced new drilling in the North Sea just before the conference. The UK is considering new North Sea fields too, and other countries present, from Brazil to Tanzania, also have fossil fuel expansion plans. Those decisions will have to be reversed for this to become the hoped-for “conference of doers”.
Before the next conference, to take place early next year on the Pacific island of Tuvalu, which is co-hosting with Ireland, countries are supposed to start the process of drawing up national roadmaps for the phaseout of fossil fuels. The organisers want these plans to feed into the broader UN climate negotiating process and to spur others to join the transition movement.
Roadmaps offer a way for countries to attract investors, and also provide guidance for their industries to help ensure the transition to a low-carbon world is fair to workers and the most vulnerable people. Mary Robinson, the former president of Ireland, said: “We need three transitions: out of fossil fuels, into renewable energy for all, and into a world that cares for nature. All must be grounded in justice.”
Santa Marta, a historically coal-fuelled town at the heart of a coal- and oil-fuelled country, may eventually be regarded as ground zero for the demise of fossil fuels. Fernanda Carvalho, the head of policy for climate and energy at WWF International, said: “It is here that the seeds of a new, implementation-focused initiative have been planted. In times of an exhaustion of multilateral processes and a gap in delivering the system change we need, what is emerging offers a different approach. This could be a real bottom-up process that centres the voices of communities most affected by fossil fuel extraction and consumption.”
But despite the “contagious” hope felt by many involved in the Santa Marta talks, there remains a long road ahead.
2026-05-02 19:30:00
It’s become a familiar refrain: something awful happens in the world, and a member of the commentariat asks, “Where are the student protests? Or did those only happen when Biden was president?”
Deprived of student targets, they are forced to post ad infinitum about Hasan Piker. Who wouldn’t be bitter?
The consistent thread is that kids these days, because they’re protesting or because they’re not, are the problem. “One might expect left-leaning college students to have practically started a revolution” over Trump’s bombing of Iran, a writer for the Atlantic recently mused. After all, critics from Jonathan Haidt (“Instagram intifada”) to Jesse Watters (“Hamas influencers”) framed the students as the least impressive of Iran’s proxies.
But the question itself is a fair one. Where are the protests? The real answer isn’t that students decided to shut up. It’s that universities, and a hostile federal government, have expended massive resources trying to ensure they do.
Between spring and fall of 2024—before Donald Trump’s reelection, let alone his return to office—the total number of campus protests dropped a staggering 64 percent.
Then came Trump’s second term. Universities were terrorized and cuts dished out—but administrators who had been pulling their hair out in 2024 could now say their hands were tied. Soon after Trump’s election, dozens of schools fell over themselves to institute even more speech-suppressing policies, banning things like megaphones and musical instruments from outdoor areas of campus except with permits or during specified hours.
Even faculty members are still dealing with the legal and disciplinary fallout of joining protests.
University presidents dragged before Congress to prove their compliance with Trump’s half-dozen executive orders on education testified endlessly about why they’d allowed such chaos in their fiefdoms. In response to allegations of antisemitism—and threats to revoke federal funding—some schools, like the University of California, Berkeley, even turned over students’ personal information to the federal government.
Others simply turned the other cheek as the federal government bore down on their students. Some students who spoke in support of the Palestinian cause, like Mahmoud Khalil and Rumeysa Ozturk, were kidnapped by ICE. Others, like Momodou Taal, were pressured into leaving the country to avoid the same fate. Even faculty members are still dealing with the legal and disciplinary fallout of participating in the encampments.
Schools like the City University of New York and New York University still aren’t allowing student commencement speakers out of fear that those speakers might criticize Israel. At Swarthmore College, students are busy preparing for criminal trials over their participation in encampments two years ago, when they should be preparing for finals. Immigrant students, now as in 2024, face the highest stakes: say too much about Israel or Palestine or genocide online, and your green card might be revoked.
The high-risk climate has not silenced student activism entirely, in particular around Gaza. On April 24, several dozen students rushed the quad at Occidental College bearing Palestinian-flag banners, and set up the same cheap green Amazon tents that got Columbia protesters accused of being a Soros and/or Hamas-funded op back in 2024. One student in the encampment called me on Saturday, late from a session of his weekly Torah study group, and said the Occidental group was “definitely the first encampment that’s lasted more than 24 hours since 2024.”
The students at Occidental, who also mounted an encampment in 2024, wanted their school to divest from weapons manufacturers and companies profiting from occupation and genocide in Gaza. Occidental, like most colleges and universities, did not divest two years ago.
The most liberal of liberal arts schools can now plead Trump administration pressure to call in riot cops.
But, like many schools, it did change its rules around demonstrations. “We’ve seen wave after wave of reactionary protest policies,” the Occidental student, who did not wish to be named due to fear of administrative retribution, told me—as at the dozens of other schools that expanded the circumstances in which student protest would be met with the threat of expulsion or arrest. In Occidental’s case, student protests have been restricted to specific times and spaces, and more bafflingly, “semi-permanent structures” have been banned. (“What does that even mean?” the student I spoke to wondered.)
Columbia’s 2024 encampment lasted two weeks. Occidental’s 2o24 protest lasted eight days and was voluntarily disbanded after the school’s board of trustees agreed to consider a divestment proposal, which it did not take up. The 2026 Occidental encampment, called the Rafah to Jenin Liberated Zone, was dismantled after only 3 days. No one was arrested and no one was hurt—but even the most liberal of liberal arts colleges can now plead Trump administration pressure if they threaten, or choose, to call in the riot cops. April’s Occidental board meeting, which the students aimed to protest, was moved to Zoom.
“Students involved in the encampment cited a recently submitted divestment proposal as their key issue. That proposal is currently under review by the College’s Board of Trustees through the College’s established process, which is designed to gather input from across our community,” an Occidental representative told me.
And students, despite the higher-risk climate, are still politically engaged. The protests this week indicate that, as do slower modes of organizing, like the historic wave of graduate student unionism we are in. (Harvard’s graduate student union just went on strike, for one.) Some young people have simply moved their organizing off-campus and into broader coalitions. Palestinian flags can be found at anti-ICE and No Kings protests. We may not be in an era of encampments—but the kids haven’t given up and gone back to scrolling.
2026-05-02 15:01:00
Last fall, hundreds of activists from all over the world crowded onto several dozen boats and set sail for Gaza. Their goal: Break through Israel’s blockade of the territory and end one of the worst humanitarian crises on the planet. They thought that by sharing their journey through social media, they could capture the world’s attention.
Subscribe to Mother Jones podcasts on Apple Podcasts or your favorite podcast app.At first, it was easy to dismiss the Global Sumud Flotilla—until it wasn’t. Before reaching Gaza, the flotilla was attacked by drones, and activists were arrested by the Israeli navy.
“We were at gunpoint; like, you could see the laser on our chest,” says flotilla participant Louna Sbou.
They were then sent to a high-security prison in the middle of the Negev desert.
“You have no control, you have no information, and you have no rights,” says Carsie Blanton, another participant. “They could do whatever they want to you.”
This week on Reveal, as a new flotilla recently set sail for Gaza, we’re bringing back our story about the Global Sumud Flotilla from last fall for a firsthand look at what activists faced on their journey and whether their efforts made any difference.
This is an update of an episode that first aired in December 2025.
2026-05-02 07:10:24
A federal appeals court packed with conservatives has handed abortion opponents a major victory against the US Food and Drug Administration, reinstating an in-person dispensing requirement for the abortion medication mifepristone and shutting down telemedicine providers—at least temporarily—from prescribing the abortion pill across the US.
In a 3-0 order issued Friday afternoon, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals granted Louisiana’s request for an injunction against FDA rule changes from 2023 that have allowed blue-state telehealth providers to send mifepristone to thousands of patients every month in states where abortion is banned. Abortion pills now account for almost two-thirds of abortions nationwide, and more than a quarter of abortions occur via telemedicine.
The 2023 telemedicine rule “injures Louisiana by undermining its laws protecting unborn human life and also by causing it to spend Medicaid funds on emergency care for women harmed by mifepristone,” US Circuit Judge Stuart Kyle Duncan wrote for the court. “Both injuries are irreparable.”
“Every abortion facilitated by FDA’s action cancels Louisiana’s ban on medical abortions,” the Donald Trump appointee wrote, “and undermines its policy that ‘every unborn child is a human being from the moment of conception and is, therefore, a legal person.” The ruling is expected to be quickly appealed to the US Supreme Court.
The injunction does not affect misoprostol, the second medication used with mifepristone under the FDA-approved protocol—and a powerful abortion drug on its own. Nor does it stop in-person prescription of abortion pills. Nonetheless, the greatest impact will likely be felt by women in the dozen or so states—many in the South—where lawmakers and attorneys general have sought to end abortion access completely.
For women of color and immigrants, “medication abortion by mail is one of the few ways people can overcome systemic barriers to care,” said Lupe Rodríguez, executive director of the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Justice. “Taking it away is deliberate and dangerous and puts politics over the health and well-being of our communities.”
“This isn’t about science—it’s about making abortion as difficult, expensive, and unreachable as possible,” said Nancy Northup, president and CEO of the Center for Reproductive Rights. “Telehealth has transformed healthcare. Selectively stripping that away from abortion patients is a political blockade.”
Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill filed her lawsuit last fall, arguing that the Biden administration’s decision to drop the in-person dispensing rule was “arbitrary” and “capricious,” and that abortion pills are too risky to prescribe remotely, even though scores of studies around the globe have shown otherwise. She also claimed the rule change was “avowedly political”—explicitly intended to get around the Supreme Court’s decision in the 2022 Dobbs decision overturning Roe v. Wade—and interfered with Louisiana’s right to regulate abortion as it sees fit.
In April, US District Judge David Joseph—another Trump appointee—put the lawsuit on hold pending the FDA’s own review of mifepristone’s safety, which has been underway since last fall. Even though the Trump administration has made clear its own concerns about the telemedicine rule, it has argued that rolling back the Biden rules while its study is ongoing amounts to “judicial intervention” in the agency’s long-established drug review process.
But abortion opponents have seen that study as a delaying tactic by a White House worried about the impact that cutting off access to abortion pills might have on the GOP’s already grim prospects in the midterm elections. Murrill quickly appealed to the Fifth Circuit, which encompasses Louisiana, Texas, and Mississippi—one of the most conservative federal jurisdictions in the country.
“People are going to find ways around the law because [the ability to access care is] so critical to someone’s identity and autonomy and self-determination. There’s no world in which this genie goes back in the bottle.”
It is the same appeals court that ruled in a similar but separate lawsuit three years ago that the FDA exceeded its authority when it relaxed an assortment of restrictions on mifepristone during the Obama and Biden administrations, including the telemedicine rule. The Supreme Court eventually rejected that case, because the anti-abortion doctors who brought it didn’t have standing to sue. But the SCOTUS ruling did not address the far bigger and thornier issue of whether the FDA’s rule changes were legal.
In Friday’s order, the Fifth Circuit panel harkened back to that earlier case. “Our court has previously concluded that [the] FDA’s actions here were likely unlawful,” Duncan wrote. The same reasoning, he said, “squarely applies” to the 2023 telemedicine rule change.
“Victory for Life!” Murrill’s office cheered on Facebook. “The Biden abortion cartel facilitated the deaths of thousands of Louisiana babies. . . Today, that nightmare is over.”
But abortion opponents are fooling themselves if they think medication abortion can be completely cut off by the Fifth Circuit or any other court, says Greer Donley, a law professor at the University of Pittsburgh. “Abortion is too important,” she says. “People are going to find ways around the law because [the ability to access care is] so critical to someone’s identity and autonomy and self-determination. There’s no world in which this genie goes back in the bottle.”
Meanwhile, abortion rights advocates have been making contingency plans. “We will do everything in our power to continue providing care to people in all 50 states,” says Dr. Angel Foster, co-founder of the Massachusetts Medication Abortion Access Project, a telemedicine provider that sends pills to more than 3,000 patients a month. “We remain committed to ensuring that people can get the care they need, when they need it.”
Developed by French researchers in the 1980s, mifepristone is one of two drugs that make up the standard abortion-pill protocol in the US. It works by blocking the production of progesterone, the main hormone needed to support a developing pregnancy. A second drug, misoprostol, then causes the uterus to contract, expelling the embryo. Misoprostol—available over the counter in many countries to treat stomach ulcers—has also been shown in numerous global studies to be a safe and effective abortifacient on its own.
The anti-abortion movement fought hard to keep mifepristone out of the US, claiming it was—and remains—too dangerous. When the FDA finally gave its approval to the drug in 2000, it imposed a number of restrictions, including limiting mifepristone’s use to early in the first trimester, requiring doctors to dispense the drug in person, and mandating multiple medical appointments. In 2011, mifepristone was consigned to a new program—known as Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy, or REMS—normally reserved for the most dangerous drugs.
But the Obama-era FDA, buoyed by still more studies confirming the drug’s safety, began easing those restrictions in 2016, including allowing mifepristone to be used up to 10 weeks’ gestation and slashing the recommended dosage by two-thirds. In 2021, at the height of the pandemic, the FDA suspended its in-person office-visit requirement, and in 2023, it made the telehealth change permanent. The new FDA rules also made mifepristone more readily available in pharmacies.
In the four years since Dobbs, the revised rules have made it possible for large numbers of red-state patients—some 15,000 per month, according to the most recent data from the #WeCount project—to continue obtaining abortion pills despite draconian bans. Medication now accounts for more than 60 percent of abortions in the US, facilitated by shield laws—statutes that protect abortion providers in blue states who care for patients living in places where abortion is illegal.
The growing availability of mifepristone has enraged the anti-abortion movement, which was counting on Trump 2.0 to take quick action to stop the flow of pills. But so far, administration officials have resisted pressure to rescind the FDA’s approval of mifepristone or revive the Comstock Act, a Victorian-era obscenity law, unenforced for decades, that prohibits the mailing of abortion drugs, supplies, and equipment.
So red-state attorneys general and other anti-abortion activists have escalated their own attacks in court. Murrill has been a leader in those efforts, trying to extradite abortion providers in New York and California to face criminal charges, without success, and threatening to sue those states over their shield laws. Louisiana has some of the toughest abortion restrictions in the country, yet telemedicine providers are mailing close to 1,000 packages of abortion pills to patients in the state every month.
In its suit against the FDA, Murrill accused the Biden administration of forcing the state to bear the costs of Medicaid patients who suffer complications as a result of the pills’ use.
The Fifth Circuit panel cited those costs as one of the reasons Louisiana had standing to sue. “Louisiana identifies $92,000 it paid in Medicaid costs from two women who needed emergency care in 2025 from complications caused by out-of-state mifepristone,” Duncan wrote. “Such costs will almost certainly continue because nearly 1,000 women monthly—many of whom are on Medicaid—have mifepristone-induced abortions in Louisiana.”
The court rejected arguments by the drug’s manufacturers that an injunction now would be premature. “We conclude Louisiana has strongly shown a likelihood of winning” its challenge to the 2023 rules, Duncan wrote.
Murrill also claimed telemedicine makes it too easy for women to be tricked or coerced into having abortions they don’t want. Joining her as a co-plaintiff in the case is a Louisiana day care employee named Rosalie Markezich, who alleged that her ex-boyfriend used her email address to order drugs from a California doctor, then forced her to take the medication against her will. Markezich is represented by the Alliance Defending Freedom, a religious-right legal powerhouse that has played a pivotal role in most of the significant anti-abortion and anti-LGBTQ policy and court battles of recent years. ADF also represented the anti-abortion doctors who challenged the FDA’s initial approval and regulation of mifepristone in the blockbuster case that went to the Supreme Court in 2024.
At a hearing in February, the judge overseeing the Louisiana case told Murrill that he doubted an injunction on telehealth would stop the flow of abortion pills. “The war on drugs has been going on for 50 years,” Joseph pointed out, “and yet there was more cocaine produced last year than any other.”
Donley, the law professor, agrees that activists and patients will find ways to get around medication restrictions and bans. “You shut off access to mifepristone, people will switch to misoprostol-only abortions,” she says. “Even if you were to shut down shield providers in this country, people would just switch to international providers and start shipping from other countries.”
Meanwhile, the Fifth Circuit ruling suddenly makes abortion a huge issue in the midterm elections—something Donald Trump has been hoping to avoid, says abortion historian Mary Ziegler, a law professor at the University of California, Davis. Telemedicine “has been why people in abortion-ban states have been able to get access to abortion,” she says. “It’s been the centerpiece of absolutely everything.” Voters who have been showing signs of complacency over the abortion issue, thanks in large part to telemedicine, won’t be complacent any longer, she says. “It’s going to be a major political pressure point.”
This is a developing story.
2026-05-02 03:01:20
After last month’s No Kings protest, Indivisible, the group that describes itself as a pro-democracy, anti-authoritarian people-powered movement, joined May Day Strong’s actions to take a page out of Minnesota’s one-day strike playbook from this past January.
On its surface, Indivisible’s participation appears to be a slight pivot, engaging in more disruptive labor-directed actions. But for Ezra Levin, the co-founder and co-executive director of Indivisible, May Day Strong is part of their movement—one that can’t succeed without growing its broad coalition. “Society cannot function without workers, and our political system won’t function unless more non-billionaires and non-mega corporations get involved in how politics works,” Levin told me when we spoke by phone on Thursday.
Politics feel brutal for most workers these days. It’s equally hard to measure the impact of protest groups like Indivisible. That’s especially true in a week where the Supreme Court dismantled voting rights and the Trump administration doubled down on its war in Iran despite rising costs and thousands of people killed. But Levin was, at times, evasive about looking too far in the future. For him, it’s impossible to measure the success of a pro-democracy movement on whether authoritarians are doing damage. It’s more useful to measure impact by how much a movement grows and tries new tactics.
This strategic alignment with May Day is an example. Levin was focused on building a coalition now—including opening the door for people who are not advocates or organizers. He also seemed clear-eyed about his group’s role: “Indivisible isn’t the right movement organization to organize the entire country. We are a piece of it.”
This interview has been lightly condensed and edited for clarity.
Where do you think Indivisible’s work stands within the larger US ecosystem of organizing?
I don’t think there’s a pathway to getting a real democracy that reflects the world of people that doesn’t depend on coalition. There’s not going to be any one organization or any one individual movement that succeeds in significantly changing our political system and bends it to the will of the people—you need to build across coalition.
For us, that’s core to just about everything Indivisible does. That shows up in the Hands Off coalition that came out a year ago. The Good Trouble Lives On [protests] on the John Lewis Day of Remembrance, and the No Kings coalition itself, which is made up of hundreds members.
May Day is not by Indivisible and it’s not led by the No Kings coalition. It’s being led by the May Day strong coalition with an emphasis on union participation. You’re not going to build a pro-democracy movement that’s successful without having heavy involvement from union leaders. You can’t succeed in what we’re trying to do without welcoming new members to your coalition and without showing up for them when they’re leading a day of action like tomorrow.
How are you measuring the impact of your work with No Kings, considering we’re in a week where the Supreme Court has fully gutted voting rights?
How you judge the success of a pro-democracy movement is with a couple of criteria: One, are you bigger than you were before? Two is, are you more aligned than you were before? Three is, is the authoritarian regime less popular than it was before? And four is, are your tactics proliferating? Are you trying new things? Are you developing new muscles?
We had three million people at the 1300 Hands Off protests last April. Then for the first No Kings, we had five million people at 2100 protests at the second No Kings. We had 7 million people at 2700, protests at the third No Kings. We had 3300 protests and more than 8 million people, which is to say three of the largest protests in all of American history are in ascending order.
The growth is pretty evident, and I don’t think it’s just us saying that. Some of the experts like Erica Chenoweth who are looking quantitatively at the scale of protests over the course of 2025 and into 2026. It dwarfs what we saw in 2017. The scale of mass mobilization and organizing is historic.
What are the challenges of growing No Kings?
The challenges in growing No Kings are the president repeatedly systematically using the powers of the presidency to go after his opponents. There are challenges of convincing people to care about politics. A lot of people believe that politics is bullshit, that both sides are corrupt, and that the whole system is broken and it’s not worth their time to get involved. That cynicism and nihilism and fatalism about the state of the country and our politics is the primary enemy that we have and the one that we have to slay. Indivisible isn’t the right movement organization to organize the entire country.
We are a piece of it. And if we’re doing our work to build a truly representative and powerful movement, we’ve got to be helping and showing up for other organizations, other movements, went into their time to lead, and I would be May Day tomorrow as an example that, like I said, it’s not an Indivisible action. This is being led by May Day Strong.
What do you think of larger disruption actions formed by coalitions over longer periods of time like the general strikes in India, Panama, and Italy? Do you think that is possible in the US?
In 2025, the regime was targeting the organization of America, which is straight out of [the playbook of] Hungary. One of the lessons of Orbán’s downfall is that the best way to remove an authoritarian is electorally, so it depends on building a mass movement.
When it comes to disruption, you don’t have to look abroad. You can look at the Twin Cities. The Day of Truth and Freedom was a mass disruption event and intended to bring society to a halt. And I think it was very successful. The federal government had to retreat because of the PR disaster as a direct result of the incredible organizing on the ground. If Trump tries to sabotage the midterm elections, you’re going to need something that looks like the Twin Cities but at the scale of something that looks like No Kings.
Going off what you brought up about disruption actions in the US, what do you think about tactics that try to get around restrictive US labor laws such as the proposed UAW strike in 2028?
I’m one battle at a time right now. There are a lot of questions about what happens in the Democratic primary, how we position ourselves in that race, and what happens if Trump runs again. These are all interesting questions that I look forward to digging into after we crush the regime in the midterms and elect some Democrats who are interested in using the powers of the Senate and the House to prevent the regime from doing more damage and bringing accountability to people who violated the Constitution. That is the single best thing we can do to set up democracy for a successful 2028.
2026-05-02 02:54:34
Matt Multari has been driving for Amazon—and organizing with the Teamsters—for about a year and a half. His days are mostly spent delivering packages. But he thinks of his role as a worker-organizer as something much more historically significant than just maximizing delivery efficiency.
“After the Assyrians lost their state, they survived in their homeland of Iraq for thousands of years. After facing a genocide that forced them to flee that homeland, they went to Russia, and then to Iran, and then some of them went to New York. Now I’m here,” he said. “And I’d like to tell Amazon: fuck you!”
Early on the morning of May 1, Multari took the megaphone in front of a hundred or so sign-toting Amazon warehouse workers, delivery drivers, and software engineers, who had traveled in from Queens and Staten Island to march on an Amazon office building for International Workers’ Day.
“Each of us here has a story of generational struggle,” Multari, 25, said. But to him, working for Amazon means the obliteration of identity. “Amazon is trying to erase that.” Every day, as he puts on his blue vest and delivers packages from Amazon’s DBK-1 warehouse in Queens, the company surveills him: “You have an app that tells you the exact stop order you’re supposed to go in. You’re under a time quota, basically.”
If you take too long, or take too many stops, Multari said, the app tells you to go faster. “You get a scorecard every week that says how you’re performing.” Five months ago, Multari and his DBK-1 coworkers unionized with the Teamsters, joining thousands of unionized Amazon workers nationwide. They’ve been able to extract some concessions from the e-commerce giant, though Amazon has refused to bargain with their unionized workers. Nonetheless, during this year’s record-breaking winter storms, they were paid for days they weren’t able to work; and when they needed new hand-trucks, Amazon paid up.
Nonetheless, Multari and his coworkers are aware that they’ll have to do much more to win real job security in an age of automation. “Amazon, at its core, is a tech company,” Multari said. “Our main asset to them is our data from our routes, so that it can train its algorithm, so it can make us more and more replaceable.”
Amazon’s Web Services cloud-computing platform is more profitable than all the company’s retail operations combined. And AWS sells cloud-computing services to clients throughout the American government, including Immigration and Customs Enforcement: According to Forbes reporting, ICE spent at least $25 million on AWS during the second Trump administration. Amazon Web Services also holds contracts with Palantir, the surveillance-tech company behind much of ICE’s deportation operation. (And Amazon has served as an inspiration for ICE, too: acting ICE director Todd Lyons has said he wants deportations in the US to run “like Amazon Prime for human beings.”)
That’s part of why, at Monday’s rally, non-union tech workers stood alongside unionized warehouse workers.
Zelda Montes, a former software engineer at Google who was fired in 2024 for holding a sit-in with their coworkers, said they’ve spent much of the past two years trying to help organize tech workers at places like Amazon. With the group No Tech for Apartheid, Montes works to build power within tech companies against the contracts that Amazon and Google hold with the Israeli government. “For a lot of tech workers, the work that they’re doing is helping to create these systems of surveillance that affect warehouse workers, that affect delivery workers, that create more difficult working conditions for them,” Montes said. “So it’s really important for us to be able to unite with them on the labor front.”
At some Amazon warehouses, more than half of workers are immigrants. But Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos has shown no interest in walking back the company’s contracts with agencies targeting those immigrants. “Amazon’s abuse of workers bankrolls their ability to do this,” said Sultana Hossain, an organizer with Amazon Labor Union. So, workers in New York told Mother Jones, they’re going to keep fighting.
“We will demand the one thing that’s worth fighting for in this life: respect,” Multari said.
