Editorial Note: Below are two separate pieces, a leak and a republication, respectively: the leak is another internal message from the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL), and the republication is a follow-up from ex-PSL member Marissa Sanchez to her last piece on leadership’s cover-up of Eugene Puryear’s assault of the author in 2020. Marissa’s piece can be found here.

As concerns rise within PSL over the systematic cover-up of sexual assault among the organizations leading figures the Central Committee has responded through a call for complete suppression of dissent across all clubs in the country.

Claiming to be a democratic organization that cares for the oppressed, the Leadership of PSL continues to make every attempt to cover up its long history of internal abuse through fedjacketing the rising number of members coming forward with their experiences, claiming that this flood of information is the result of fractions and the state department working to crush this party fighting for the people. Meanwhile tokenizing the few women who hold higher positions of leadership to claim that former members such as Marissa Sanchez have no right to speak out on the violent processes of “accountability” they were forced through as it met the party standards of the time—to argue that it was wrong is to break “party line.”

This is the behavior of a cult, not an organization working towards revolutionary struggle. Dissent and contradictions must be struggled through, not sidelined, erased, and further suppressed by those who’ve done wrong. The Central Committee of PSL claims that such violent tactics used against survivors is “Democratic Centralism” when in reality it is merely an attempt at ensuring abusers stay in power and while revolutionary energy goes nowhere.

Moving Forward

Message from the Central Committee to Local Leadership Bodies

Approved unanimously by the CC on September 15, 2026

Dear comrades,

We have heard from SCs in many areas that they have now had significant internal discussions on Marissa Sanchez’s letter, the NDC statement, the CC report, as well as the ongoing factional operation aimed at dismantling the Party. This has been discussed in units, branch committees and other expanded leadership bodies, internals, in one-on-one meetings, and other settings. The overwhelming majority of leaders and members nationwide are standing strong in defense of the Party that we have all collectively built together, and are eager to move forward with our important political work. This document offers you some guidance on how to do that. It is not for mass distribution to the membership.

Under democratic centralism, there is thorough internal discussion followed by decisions taken at the appropriate bodies, which have been elected democratically, and those decisions then become binding and executable.

NDC and Central Committee decisions

The all-woman National Disciplinary Committee been vested by the Party Congress with final authority on all disciplinary matters related to sexual misconduct, binding on all other leadership bodies and on all members. In 2026, the NDC thoroughly reviewed the 2020 disciplinary case involving former members Eugene Puryear and Marissa Sanchez. The incident took place prior to the NDC’s existence, when the Party, its depth of leadership, its staff and its institutions were much smaller.

The NDC review affirmed:

• That the disciplinary and accountability process in 2020 conformed with the Party principles and disciplinary protocols then operational. That if such an incident took place today, it would go instead to its all-women’s panel, and would follow the more thorough and elaborated processes related to sexual misconduct that the NDC currently uses.
• That people have the right to change their opinion on an incident, and on a disciplinary process they have been involved in. Marissa Sanchez, however, despite being involved in the creation of the NDC from its conception in 2021, for the next five years did not raise that she had changed her opinion, nor did she ask for the NDC to reopen the case.

The NDC’s review of that matter is now closed

The PSL Central Committee is the Party’s highest elected body between congresses. Its political and organizational decisions constitute the line of the PSL, and are binding on all PSL members as a principle of democratic centralism, and as a requirement of membership. The Central Committee, after thorough discussion, unanimously responded to the factional operation’s distortions in June. It also unanimously approved the “Comprehensive Report on the Marissa Sanchez letter” after a thorough discussion, laying out in far greater detail the support provided to her, how and why her relationship to the Party leadership changed, and how she intersected and coordinated with the factional operation. This report has been circulated to the entire Party membership and branches have had a week to adsorb its meaning and content. This report constitutes the CC’s definitive position on the matter.

Democratic centralism and defense of the Party

Under the Party By-Laws, “All members, including those who disagree, are duty bound to publicly defend and carry out these decisions.” That means anyone who cannot publicly defend the Party, its decisions, and the elected leadership bodies carrying them out, is in violation of the most fundamental tenets of Party membership, and must resign or be subject to expulsion.

The duty to defend the Party does not require each member to speak to each aspect of every decision ever committed in other people’s accountability processes from years ago. It means disputing the false narrative that the Party tolerates sexism in its ranks, and affirming that the Party has a strong record and strong processes that have empowered and developed women leaders at every level. It means disputing the narrative that the leadership is corrupt and undemocratic. It means standing by the legitimacy of the all-women’s National Disciplinary Committee, and the legitimacy of the elected Central Committee, which have comprehensively reviewed these matters and made their decisions, as they are authorized to do.

This duty to defend the Party does not stop our permanent task to improve the Party’s internal life and institutions. All conversations and proposals to improve the Party are welcome, if they are done in the spirit of making the Party a better instrument for our class, and premised on comrades’ own experiences with organizational life — not on the distorted “facts” or arguments of those who want to destroy the Party.

Individuals who cannot in good conscience carry out the duties of membership can still leave on friendly terms with the Party — but they cannot be members. If a member engages with these operations to destroy and dismantle the Party, joins in the effort to discredit or undermine the legitimacy of our elected leadership and institutions, or takes the side of the Party’s enemies over its entire elected leadership, they should not remain PSL Members.

Understanding the ongoing Attacks

Finally, we want to emphasize why defending the Party has assumed a particularly critical role in this stage of the class struggle. At a moment when the PSL is providing vital leadership on many fronts, NSPM-7 has reorganized billions of dollars in federal law enforcement resources to “dismantle and destroy” organizations it calls “domestic terrorists” based on their viewpoints and activism. COINTELPRO and other campaigns of state repression in US history primaily focused on covert attacks, to “foster factionalism” and “expose, disrupt, misdirect, discredit, or otherwise neutralize” a targeted organization. The main three targets in such operations historically were an organization’s 1) reputation, 2) leaders and 3) finances.

The targeting of the PSL by right-wing media, politicians, members of Congress, and the Department of Justice is real, although we may not know the full scope of it for years. According to media reports, a federal grand jury has been convened in the Southern District of New York, targeting left-wing organizations in New York City, and this also includes The People’s Forum, BreakThrough News, ANSWER and others. Grand juries operate in secret, compelling testimony from anyone they subpoena in environments without lawyers and where remaining silent leads to jail. According to media reports, the PSL was named by a senior Department of Justice official Harmeet Dhillon as a target to be “dismantled.” We have faced a broad and escalating range of state, legal, law enforcement and Congressional attacks in the last 9 months, with a new one almost every week.

There is also a previously secret factional operation, still ongoing after many months, composed of former PSL leaders and members, focused on trying to dismantle the PSL from within. The anti-Party grouping announced themselves to the world in June as if they were just committed to mass organizing, but appear entirely focused on recruiting people from our Party, and trying to destroy the PSL, rather than organizing towards their own vision. They have conspired to encourage small groupings elsewhere to conceal political differences and then resign. In one recent example, a factional member originally from New York used a false name to rejoin the Party in a new branch to help organize the resignation of members. Every day we receive new reports of these anti-Party forces probing current members, especially to uncover weak spots, gather grievances, identify salacious stories, and dig up details of past internal disciplinary proceedings. They want to find anything to drive a wedge between PSL members, to convince members they can’t trust their own experiences in the organization, and then combine all such stories into one singular narrative that the PSL leadership is nefarious and untrustworthy.

We are not asserting that these two operations to dismantle the PSL are necessarily connected. But either way, it is the most elementary duty of every Leninist to defend their Party in the face of any new attacks to destroy it. So long as these operations exist, and so long as the Party is a growing and formidable force, we can’t avoid that we will face different types of attacks. The Party would be weakened for the struggles ahead if it were to retain members who are not prepared to defend it.

The work of local leadership bodies

We have heard from all branches at this point. The developments of this week have understandably caused shock and distress. But our sense is that SCs everywhere are now determined to return to their work of strengthening the Party and organizing the working class. They are talking with whatever members locally they need to talk to, in order to make that happen. We recognize that some areas still have meetings planned around this matter, and these should proceed so that all members have an opportunity to understand the Party’s decisions, have their questions answered, and move forward in defense of the Party and our tasks ahead. Based on reports from around the country, we think this matter can be brought to a close in the next week. Those who want to dismantle the PSL have studied history, and know how organizations can simply become exhausted by internal issues and scandals. We will not permit that to happen, and have to return to the principles of democratic centralism to move forward.

We ask that your SC discuss this letter and reply in the next 24 hours to the National Organizational Department at pslnationalstaff@pm.me on the status of your area and next steps over the next week. We also encourage you to share your report with your national liaison. Please let us know if you need further clarification or assistance.

Who Gets to Write the “True Narrative”

Content note: Please note that this essay discusses sexual assault, rape, suicidal ideation, and organizational misconduct.

At the end of my original essay, I wrote about what I expected the PSL’s response to be. I expected them to defend their leadership and insist that the harm I experienced had been handled appropriately because I had agreed to the “process” at the time. I expected them to invoke the later creation of the National Disciplinary Commission (NDC) as proof of their understanding of sexual trauma.

In many ways, that is exactly the response they gave. And yet, I was surprised to realize that there was still some small part of me that hoped I would be wrong. That once faced publicly with the harm their decisions caused me, the Party might acknowledge that even if they believed they were acting correctly at the time, there were things they should have done differently.

That small part of me is sad and disappointed, but the larger feeling I am experiencing is anger.

Which tracks because, as those who know me well know, anger is much more comfortable for me than sorrow as an immediate emotional reaction. In November 2020, being assaulted by comrade Eugene Puryear overwhelmed even that instinct; I was not angry yet, only frightened, disoriented, and trying to survive what had just happened.

In some ways, I am relieved to feel that anger. It tells me that I am better positioned than I was then. That I have the capacity to confront their response rather than simply survive it. That I have built a life sturdy enough to hold me while I speak plainly about what happened and withstand the consequences of doing so.

I am specifically angry at things in their response I know to be outright lies. I am angry at their careful choice of language which diminishes my role and credibility while emphasizing Eugene’s stature, contributions, and humanity. I am angry watching years of my private messages, relationships, and behavior after my assault assembled into an argument about whether I am now entitled to understand what happened to me in the way that I do. I am especially angry that they would assert that my motivations are for some kind of personal or political gain. Or, worst of all, their insinuation that I may be an agent of our real enemies.

Some of their narrative affected me more viscerally than I expected. Their description of me “tearfully hugging” Eugene in the meeting led by Ben made my skin crawl. I remembered that moment, that room, and the person I was in it. I remember sobbing and telling them that Eugene mattered more. That he was a more important member than me. A more visible leader, a Black leader, a historian. I remember saying that if I couldn’t handle being around Eugene, that if one of us had to go, it should be me. I remember the sacrifice I was ready to make for projects I believed were bigger and more important than I was.

Apart from being angry, I am also somewhat nervous about writing another piece so quickly. My first essay took me a long time to write and even longer to decide to publish. I had years to think about what happened before I finally put those thoughts into words. Now, only a week later, I find myself responding in real time to an official Central Committee document about my own assault and its aftermath.

There is a large part of me that would rather not respond at all. But my original essay has over 36,000 views, and I know many people are trying to make sense not only of what happened to me, but of the competing account the Party has offered. I want to ask those readers to keep thinking.

I am not going to litigate every text message from six years of my life or respond line by line to every accusation about my motives and relationships. There are factual claims I will correct and choices in their narrative that deserve close examination. But I do not want their response to drag us away from the questions that matter most.

Because underneath more than one hundred lines of defense, accusation, private correspondence, factional intrigue, Fox News, and speculation about the state, the fundamental facts are not disputed: Eugene sexually assaulted me. I reported it immediately to Ben. Party leadership, specifically Ben and Brian, handled the response. The incident was kept confidential, even from other Party leaders. Eugene quickly returned to both public facing and internal positions of leadership.

These are not allegations. They are the Party’s facts too. The disagreement is now over what those facts mean.

The questions to be asked based on these facts are: Was the process that followed just? Was it actually survivor-centered? What does meaningful choice look like when someone is experiencing acute trauma? What responsibility does an organization have that cannot simply be handed to the person who was harmed? And what does the Party’s response tell us about how it understands accountability today?

The Central Committee calls its account the “true narrative.” I think we should look closely at how that narrative is being constructed.

The Decision I Never Should Have Been Asked to Make

On the one hand, the Party accuses me of distorting the PSL’s long history of taking sexual violence seriously and diminishing the important work done by the NDC. On the other hand, their own account acknowledges that when Eugene assaulted me, there was no NDC. They say there had “never been a charge against someone in the top leadership itself,” and that because I did not want Eugene to resign, “another accountability process would be devised in discussions with” me.

Their ultimate defense, in other words, is that I agreed to what happened after my assault.

In my original essay, I clearly stated that I said I wasn’t sure I wanted Eugene to resign. I wrote about participating in a meeting led by Ben and about additional conversations with Ben about me being assaulted. But what I understand now, and what I wish the Party would grapple with, is that I never should have been placed in the position of “deciding” what should happen with Eugene. That there is an important difference between giving a survivor agency and transferring organizational responsibility onto her.

Furthermore, Ben did not really ask me if Eugene should resign. The morning after being assaulted Ben told me Eugene might want to resign, and I responded that I wasn’t sure that is what I wanted to happen.

Most importantly, I was not considering that question from some neutral position. I was struggling to understand how someone I trusted and admired could have treated me so carelessly. I desperately wanted what had happened not to be real and for my life to return to normal.

I was also deeply embedded into the organization. I had built my entire life around the PSL. And in the days that followed reporting my assault to him, Ben was telling me in each conversation to consider how my choices could impact other comrades, projects and the Party’s political relationships.

I am not arguing that trauma rendered me incapable of making any decision for myself. Nor am I arguing that there was only one acceptable punishment the Party could have imposed. My point is narrower: my wishes in the immediate aftermath of being sexually assaulted should never have been treated as sufficient evidence that the Party’s response was just. Survivor agency does not mean making the survivor responsible for determining the future of the person who harmed her.

There is a reason for this. Victims of sexual assault are often very close to the person who harmed them. Even when a victim knows that what happened was wrong, they may still have complicated feelings about the person who assaulted them. They should not be placed in the position of carrying the responsibility for what happens to that person as a result of the assault.

Taking that decision out of the victim’s hands helps create a more impartial process and, just as importantly, removes an enormous burden from the victim. Who should be allowed to focus on their own safety, healing, and what they need rather than feeling responsible for the consequences their perpetrator may face.

The extent to which I was being placed in a position to “determine” what should happen to Eugene was in itself traumatizing. It created guilt, pressure, and additional emotional harm; especially because I was then asked for years to carry on having a relationship with him as if nothing had happened. To work with him. To be in space after space with him.

A trauma-informed and survivor-centered process would have recognized this dynamic, recognized I was having an acute trauma response, and not placed the burden of determining my perpetrator’s consequences onto me as the person who was assaulted.

The Party’s response repeatedly tells us: Marissa wanted this. Marissa did not want Eugene to resign. Marissa did not want him expelled. Marissa participated in determining the consequences. These claims are presented as evidence that the Party’s process was appropriate.

But those facts do not answer my criticism. They are my criticism.

If the Party truly had a long-established political understanding of how seriously sexual violence must be treated, and how it impacts people who have experienced it, then that understanding should have guided its response precisely when the person accused was one of its most important leaders.

Whether Eugene remained fit to exercise political leadership after sexually assaulting another member was a question the PSL had to answer for itself.

The truth the Party does not want to face is that there was no real process taken up to answer that question. And that given the immense social, economic, and emotional pressures I was facing, that the decision to keep Eugene in the Party, in prominent leadership, and in a public-facing role was truly and ultimately the decision of two Party leaders, Ben and Brian Becker.

How a Survivor is Supposed to Behave

A significant portion of the Party’s response is devoted to proving that, in the months and years after my assault, I behaved like someone who believed “she had been supported”. They point to my continued Party membership and leadership, my relationships with Party leaders, and messages in which I sometimes spoke to or thanked Ben warmly.

They also make a very specific accounting of the people who they say knew about my assault. Their response has forced me to reconstruct those disclosures more carefully than I had wanted to when writing my original essay. I can identify four people who I remember knowing, under very different circumstances, that I had been assaulted while being on staff for the Party in New York. The Party appears to describe five. I do not know who the fifth person is, and I will not invent a memory to resolve that discrepancy.

Originally when drafting this response, I wrote a description of each of these four partial disclosures. I say partial, because in only one of them did I even name Eugene, but after some reflection, I do not feel the need to expose myself further in response to the Party’s own invasion of my privacy.

The point I need to make is that knowing I had been assaulted in New York is not the same thing as being someone I confided in about how the Party handled my assault. None of these partial disclosures were with comrades with whom I was freely processing what happened. In fact, there were multiple times I asked Ben about if I could speak to specific people, for example Kei Pritsker, and was told NO.

The Party nevertheless uses the idea that anyone knew I had experienced assault to construct an image of me as someone who freely confided in multiple trusted comrades and repeatedly expressed satisfaction with how my assault was handled. That is the account I do not recognize and which I am calling out as a blatant lie.

The contemporaneous text they reproduce, in which I say my meeting with Eugene “went good,” I assume was to Chris Banks. The “friend” I wrote about in my original essay who Ben said he, “Rather I hadn’t told.” I do not dispute writing it. I believed it when I wrote it.

(An aside: One of the most painful parts of looking back on my experience is that when I confided in Chris, despite the fact that he was the person who recruited me to the PSL, a friend who knew my family, as well as, my history of sexual violence and someone who I had tirelessly defended, Chris did not stand up for me or question Ben about how my assault was being handled.

In fact, while I was spinning out, suicidal, calling him crying, Chris “comforted” me by telling me about how he resented the consequences he was given for his own sexual misconduct and womanizing. He commended the Party and me for not putting Eugene through the same “pain” of being suspended and isolated like he was in San Francisco.

At some of the lowest moments in my life, when I was frightened and confused the person I confided in was telling me about the lasting costs of punishment.

I also have to state how upsetting it is to know from reading their response that the Party leadership is actively relying so heavily on Chris in their response to account for my mental state after being assaulted. That they are asking him to look through our private messages for things that can be used to smear me. Especially because Chris is himself a “former member”, but who has been quietly moved by the Party to Atlanta, after again having sexually inappropriate conduct. I wonder where the sexually explicit text messages describing how he would like to sleep with different Party members in San Antonio are? How is it that the PSL leadership is still working with him in such a trusted way if he is both “not a member” and has shown repeatedly through his own personal conduct over years his failure to understand the role his actions play in the lives of women?)

There is a difference between saying I thought I was doing okay and actually being okay; between saying a meeting “went good” and concluding the Party’s process was just; and between telling someone I was assaulted and telling them the Party handled my assault well.

The same problem appears in their use of my relationship with Ben. Even after being assaulted, I had continued to consider him one of the most important mentors in my life and to care about his family. Those things are true. They are not the same thing as saying he and the Party handled my sexual assault appropriately.

They even go so far as to describe me as going through an “intense break-up” during this period. I wasn’t. I was in fact caught up in a painful and unhealthy situationship. I was not in a committed relationship. It sounds like a small distinction, but the Party uses Ben’s supposed knowledge of my personal life as evidence of how closely he was caring for me. Instead, the error made me realize how poorly he was tracking what was happening with me even when I was right in front of him.

This is the larger problem with their “evidence”. I could have seen Ben as a leader and friend, while still feeling confused and upset by his actions. I could have remained committed to the Party while struggling with something that happened inside it.

Most troublingly, they write: “This is not the behavior and words of someone who was shunned or grievously wronged.” What, exactly, is someone who has been grievously wronged supposed to look like?

Was I supposed to leave immediately? Stop loving people I had loved for years? Stop participating in political work that structured my life? Was I supposed to understand my trauma instantly and perform that understanding consistently enough that, six years later, there would be no contradictory text message for the Party to find?

Too many women already know how dangerous this logic is. We know women in our families, our communities, and our own lives who were raped or abused by husbands and boyfriends and did not immediately leave. Some stayed for weeks. Some for months. Some for years. Some continued to love the person who harmed them, defended them, slept beside them, depended on them, or tried desperately to make the relationship work. None of that means the violence did not happen. None of it means they were not “grievously wronged.”

We know better than to ask a woman, “If he really harmed you, why did you stay?” We should know better than to ask me the institutional version of the same question.

My continued attachment to the Party is not evidence that the Party did not harm me. I loved the comrades. All of my closest relationships were inside the PSL. My livelihood was at times tied to it. I had spent years building the Party and believed deeply in the political project it represented. If we understand that a survivor’s continued attachment to a person who harmed her does not negate that harm, we should be capable of understanding that continued attachment to an organization does not either.

This is why I do not see the Party’s response as evidence that it has developed a deeper understanding of sexual harm in the years since my assault. I see evidence of the opposite. Six years later, they are still evaluating my account through how well my behavior conformed to what they apparently expect from someone who was harmed: Did I stay? Did I hug him? Did I ever thank Ben? Did I continue leading? Was there ever a moment that I said I was okay? This is not simply a misunderstanding of trauma. It reproduces a deeply gendered and, I would argue, misogynistic way of evaluating women who experience sexual violence: searching their behavior after the harm for evidence that the harm, or their later understanding of it, should be taken less seriously.

“Former Member Marissa” and “Long-Time Party Leader Eugene”

Language matters. Political organizations, perhaps more than anyone, should understand that.

The Party introduces me as “former PSL member Marissa.” In the same sentence, Eugene is “a long-time Party leader.”

Neither description is false, but neither is neutral. Wasn’t I also a long-time Party leader? I joined in 2015, spent a decade organizing with the PSL, worked full-time for the Party, helped build branches, recruited and trained members, served in various national leadership roles, and was twice elected to the Central Committee. Not to mention, Eugene is also a former PSL member, so to position us using these terms begs the question: Why am I defined by my departure while he is defined by his importance?

This is not because leadership status determines credibility. It doesn’t. I raise it because the Party chose these descriptors, and that framing continues throughout the response. My history is largely presented as evidence to be examined: my relationships, private messages, changing relationship to the Party, and behavior after the assault. Eugene’s history, meanwhile, is presented through his political value: his recruiting, mentoring, work in the Black freedom movement, skill as a communicator, and knowledge as a historian. None of his accomplishments tell us whether the process following my assault was just. Yet readers are repeatedly reminded of his value to the organization. Concern for his health is even raised.

That is one way a “true narrative” gets constructed: not only through which facts are included, but through whose authority is emphasized, whose is diminished, and how readers are implicitly taught to understand each person involved.

I Am Not Part of a Faction

I want to be unequivocal: I am not part of a faction of former PSL members organizing to destroy, dismantle, or split the Party. My essay was not written or published as part of a coordinated factional campaign.

Am I in contact with people who have left the PSL? Of course I am. I spent ten years there. Many people I knew, loved, worked alongside, and organized with have since left too. And yes, some of us talk about the PSL. We also talk about art, our work, our families, and how terrifyingly hot it has been outside.

Talking with former PSL members has helped me process an emotionally difficult and disorienting experience. We compare memories, talk about relationships we lost, and support one another as people making sense of our time inside a closed political organization.

But I am not building another organization with these people, recruiting PSL members, or organizing a campaign against the Party. I have organizing work of my own that is based in my immediate community. “Decapitating” the PSL is not it.

However, that does not mean I condemn former members who have chosen to build other political projects. I don’t. I am still a communist and a Marxist. I want communists organizing, experimenting, building organizations, and finding ways to make revolutionary politics meaningful to more people. If people who have left the PSL build organizations that contribute something valuable to the movement for socialism, I hope they succeed. That does not make me a member of those organizations.

More fundamentally, I reject the premise that the success of revolutionary politics must mean the success of one particular organization. People leaving one communist organization to organize elsewhere should not automatically transform them into enemies, wreckers, or agents of the state. If our politics are actually about building a movement capable of transforming society, then there must be room for different organizations to exist, experiment, disagree, and still find ways to struggle together.

The Party’s vehement condemnation of any member who decides to leave and continue to organize in any capacity outside of the PSL is to me proof of how deeply sectarian and competitive their attitudes actually are.

My Essay Was Mine

There is another irony in their response. The women Central Committee members accuse me of portraying them as “pawns or pieces to be moved by some small cabal of men” and as “extensions of the desires of our male comrades.” I have never said that.

I find that characterization itself belittling to those women. I knew and worked alongside them for years. I considered them my friends. They are intelligent, experienced political leaders with agency of their own.

That is precisely why I hold them each accountable for putting their names on the Party’s response. The same way I hold myself accountable for signing other such Party responses when I was on the Central Committee and NDC.

What is striking is that while accusing me of denying these women’s agency, the Party constructs a narrative that denies mine. In their telling, I did not independently spend years reconsidering my experience or arrive at a different understanding after gaining distance from it. I did not decide for myself that I wanted to write publicly. Instead, I appear as someone drawn into a faction and incorporated into a coordinated campaign against the Party.

I reject both frameworks. Women in the PSL’s leadership are political actors responsible for their decisions. I am also a political actor responsible for mine.

My essay was mine. I wrote it, decided what belonged in it, decided when I was ready to publish it, and I take responsibility for every argument I made in it. The suggestion that someone else told me what to say or how to understand my own experience is an insult added to injury.

There is something circular about the Party’s argument. Former members describe harmful experiences and talk to one another about them. Their talking to one another is then offered as evidence that their accounts constitute a “coordinated attack”. If people leave separately and remain isolated, their experiences can be dismissed as individual grievances. If they compare experiences and discover commonalities, their agreement becomes evidence of “factional coordination”. When is anyone leaving the PSL ever going to be seen by PSL leadership as leaving with genuine grievances?

From Criticism to Conspiracy

The factional accusation does not exist in isolation. It’s the bridge to the most extraordinary part of the Party’s response.

Follow the progression of their argument: They begin by acknowledging that Eugene sexually assaulted me. They then dispute my understanding of how Party leadership handled that assault. From there, they question my motivations and connect me to a supposed faction of former members. Then come right-wing activists and Fox News. Finally, the response zooms out to discuss state repression, NSPM-7, infiltration, disruption, and the history of COINTELPRO.

By the end, a story about how the Party handled the sexual assault of one of its women leaders by one of its male leaders has been placed inside a narrative about threats to the revolutionary movement and the repressive apparatus of the state.

None of this answers the questions I raised. It instead creates an environment of mistrust and paranoia that serves to distract people from the reality of what happened, and in doing so is serving to make people complicit in harm that was done.

I am a communist. I do not need to be convinced that the capitalist state surveils, infiltrates, disrupts, and represses revolutionary movements. Nor do I need to be convinced that reactionaries will seize on real contradictions within left organizations and exploit them for their own purposes. They will.

But the exploitation of a contradiction does not make the contradiction false.

If former members of the PSL, or leftists long critical of the PSL; share my essay, that does not determine whether what I wrote is true. If Fox News finds my story politically useful, that does not determine whether what I wrote is true. Even if some agents of the state were delighted by internal conflict within a revolutionary organization, that would tell us nothing about whether the criticism at the center of that conflict is true.

And there is something painfully familiar about this framing.

In 2020, in the immediate aftermath of being sexually assaulted, I was asked to think about what accountability for Eugene might mean for the Party and the political projects he was responsible for. My trauma was placed beside the needs of the organization.

All these years later, after I finally decided to speak publicly, the Party is doing something remarkably similar. This time, people are being asked to consider what my disclosure might mean for the Party: who might exploit it, what political forces might benefit from it, and how it might intersect with broader attacks on the left.

What is “good” for the PSL is once again being placed beside and weight against the harm I experienced.

That should trouble anyone serious about building revolutionary organizations capable of self-criticism. If an allegation becomes politically suspect whenever an enemy can exploit it, what criticism of a revolutionary organization could ever be safe to make?

Our enemies will always exploit our failures. That is an argument for confronting those failures more rigorously, not for treating the people who expose them as possible instruments of those enemies. An organization protects itself from political attack not by refusing to examine its contradictions, but by developing the capacity to confront and transform them.

What Accountability Could Have Looked Like

I want to be clear about what I am arguing, because at several points the Party’s response frames the dispute around whether the consequences imposed on Eugene were sufficient.

That is not my argument.

I do not think that there could have been one perfect consequence that would have made what happened just. Accountability is not simply a question of how severely we punish someone. Accountability is not the same thing as consequence.

So what might a different process actually have looked like?

For starters, comrades who did not have a conflict of interest based on their relationships with Eugene and I could have been tasked with handling the process. I could have had someone independent of Eugene’s political relationships whose primary responsibility was supporting me. I could have been given time before being asked to weigh in on permanent consequences.

Most importantly, the Party could have had clear standards for what committing sexual assault meant for someone’s fitness to exercise leadership at the highest level.

Additionally, someone could have continued checking in with me after the immediate crisis had passed, when I had enough distance to understand what had happened more clearly.

Confidentiality could have been structured around protecting my privacy, rather than containing knowledge of what happened. This distinction matters. Especially, because in their response, the Party repeatedly points to concern for “my privacy” as a rationale for keeping knowledge of me being assaulted by Eugene so limited. Which is ironic considering that they then also proceed to share my private messages and make false assumptions about my personal life.

There is a difference between confidentiality that gives a survivor control over her own story and secrecy that gives a Party control over who is allowed to know about its failures. A trauma-informed process should have protected my right to privacy. It should not have made me responsible for keeping what Eugene did institutionally contained.

A principled trauma-informed response from the PSL would not have then violated my privacy further.

The Real Role of The PSL’s National Disciplinary Commission

The Party points repeatedly to the later creation of the NDC as evidence of its serious approach to sexual violence. I do not. As I described in my original essay, my experience serving on that body did not convince me that the Party had developed an independent, trauma-informed process.

Reading the NDC’s publicly leaked protocols as part of the Party’s response to my original essay only reinforced that criticism. Rather than demonstrating that the Commission is structured primarily around the needs of people who have experienced sexual harm, the protocols reinforce my concern that the NDC’s main function is to protect the Party from criticism and contain information that could damage it.

The protocols give three reasons for the Party’s highly confidential approach to cases involving sexual harm: protecting the privacy of the impacted person, protecting the privacy of the accused, and protecting the Party from “misinformation campaigns and machinations of the repressive state apparatus, and other anti-Party forces.” They further state that members who violate “the confidentiality of the proceedings” will face disciplinary action.

Protecting a survivor’s privacy and protecting an organization from its political enemies are not the same objective. When both are presented as reasons for confidentiality in a process dealing with sexual violence, we have to ask whose confidentiality is actually being protected, who controls it, and what happens when a survivor’s need to speak conflicts with the Party’s desire to contain information?

The protocols also leave unresolved how the NDC prevents someone who has experienced sexual harm from being made to carry the weight of the Party’s own responsibilities. They state that the “reporting party” should be offered the opportunity to participate in determining the “accountability process and consequence.” Survivor participation can be an essential part of a trauma-informed process. But the protocols never explain where giving a survivor meaningful agency ends and making her responsible for determining the consequences for the person who harmed her begins.

Nor do the protocols describe what care or support is offered to the harmed person throughout this process. They do not explain how the Commission accounts for the fact that someone experiencing an acute trauma response may not be prepared to make consequential decisions about accountability, or how asking her to do so too early could itself compound the harm she is experiencing.

More broadly, the protocols provide little indication of how the Commission understands the complicated ways trauma can shape a person’s behavior after sexual violence. These are not peripheral questions for a trauma-informed process. They should be at the center of one.

Instead, the publicly leaked NDC protocols tell us a great deal about the Commission’s disciplinary authority. They tell us which cases it investigates, who must submit to its decisions, what consequences it can impose, and that it consists of “long-time women cadres.” They tell us nothing about what qualifies those cadres to respond to trauma or how the process is designed around the needs of someone who has experienced sexual harm.

Being a woman does not by itself confer expertise in trauma. Being a survivor does not either. And placing women in charge of responding to sexual violence does not automatically make that response survivor-centered. Representation is not accountability. Women are also not the only people who experience sexual violence. And making women comrades disproportionately responsible for the difficult work of responding to sexual harm is itself a questionable and deeply gendered division of labor.

Creating a disciplinary body is not the same thing as creating a culture capable of accountability, nor is it the same thing as creating a trauma-informed process.

The existence of the NDC therefore does not resolve the questions I am asking. Institutionalizing a disciplinary procedure is not the same as institutionalizing an understanding of trauma, much less developing a serious political understanding of how sexual violence operates within our organizations and our class.

The questions I want our movement spaces to take up are these: What structures, practices, and political culture would actually allow an organization to respond to sexual violence without transferring its responsibilities onto the survivor or subordinating the survivor’s needs to those of the organization? What internal culture, training, and political development would be necessary so that women comrades are not disproportionately burdened with accountability work?

I do not see how the PSL’s National Disciplinary Commission, as described in its own protocols, answers either of these critically important questions.

Moving Forward

The Party is right about something. Something I tried to make clear in my own writing, which is that my understanding of what happened to me and how it was handled did change.

Time has given me distance and language I did not have then. Experiences outside the PSL have given me something against which to measure what happened inside it. Space has allowed me to reconsider relationships I once trusted and ask questions I did not know how to ask while I was living through their consequences.

I did not rewrite what happened. I did change what I understood my experiences to mean.

The Party says I am entitled to “change [my] feelings and opinions over time,” but then treats that change as something requiring explanation: Who influenced me? Which former members did I speak to? What faction did I supposedly join?

The simplest explanation is the one their narrative seems unable to accommodate: I changed because I learned, I reflected, I grew.

Revolutionary organizations must be capable of doing the same. We must be capable of giving survivors agency without making them responsible for deciding what justice requires; of protecting a survivor’s privacy without turning that privacy into institutional secrecy; of confronting harm without reducing people to monsters; of examining ourselves without treating criticism as attack; and of admitting that even when we believed we were acting correctly, we caused harm.

This is not separate from the work of defending our organizations and confronting our real enemies. It is a necessary part of it. We cannot build organizations strong enough to withstand repression, infiltration, and reaction if we are too afraid of our enemies to confront the contradictions within our own ranks.

Finally, I want to thank the many people who have reached out to me since I published my original essay. Some of you I have known for years; some I have never met. Some have shared with me their own experiences of harm within the PSL, and expressed how reading my story helped them better understand what happened to them. I am thankful for every kind message, every supportive comment, and to all who have told me that they hope I am surrounded by people who love and support me. I am. And I want you to know how much your care has meant to me.

I also want you to know that, despite how painful all of this has been, I am still hopeful. I am not an online person, I do not have social media accounts, and so watching the conversations and debates my essay has sparked online has been overwhelming at times. Getting to discuss the political meaning of these experiences with my own family, friends and comrades has honestly been healing.

I am proud to know that by telling this story more people are talking about trauma, sexual violence, accountability, organizational culture, and what we owe one another in the movements we build. My greatest hope when deciding to share my story was that by doing so I could help push exactly these kinds of conversations forward. If what happened to me can contribute in some small way to people learning, reflecting, asking harder questions, and building better practices for the future, then that matters deeply to me.

The Party may choose to respond to me again. They will likely continue to lie about my character. To invade my privacy. To call me ego driven, a wrecker, a state agent. I do not intend to enter into an endless back-and-forth in which every response demands another response, every private message another explanation, and every explanation another defense. I have said what I needed to say about their “true narrative”.

But I am not done writing about the questions it raises. I would like to write more about sexual violence, trauma, harm, accountability, and how we can build survivor-centered processes into our organizing spaces.

These conversations are larger than my experience, and they are larger than the PSL. They are conversations we need to have if we want to build organizations capable not only of surviving our enemies, but of becoming worthy of the world we say we are fighting for.

Editor’s Note: Below are two statements, both written and distributed internally within the Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL), as a form of damage control for the revealing testimony of former-PSL member, Marissa Sanchez, republished by USU here. What follows is an insidious effort to commit a character assassination of the very individual PSL’s procedures betrayed. Two things are admitted to, by both the National Disciplinary Committee and Central Committee: Eugene Puryear did assault Marissa and the procedure for remediation was determined by what Marissa supposedly wanted. These facts alone discredit PSL.

Their ‘victim-centered’ approach claims to be acting in the interest of the survivor, but in reality crushes them beneath social pressure. You can with one, formal, hand offer them the “choice” to expel someone, while with another, hidden, fist threaten them with the many “unfortunate consequences” that real accountability may cause. Which is exactly what Ben Becker did. The paper trail and consensus testimony for the “caring hand” can be brought out if ever needed to demonstrate leadership’s principles, while the existence of the fist can be doubted by smearing the victim as a manipulative liar. Which is exactly what these Committees have done here.

Internal National Disciplinary Committee Statement

The following statement was prepared by the National Disciplinary Committee to give our members an accurate account of the investigative and disciplinary process around an incident involving Eugene P. in 2020.

Marissa S., a former member of the PSL, posted a Substack article about this incident on September 7. The letter’s contents are understandably distressing. However, the letter seriously mischaracterizes the party’s actions and procedures. The article itself not only mischaracterizes the accountability process and events following the incident in 2020, but also attacks the central Party leadership and the NDC and undermines the PSL’s history in dealing with incidents of sexual misconduct, which are taken very seriously. It is important for members of the PSL to understand the context. The Party leadership is aware that Marissa has been communicating and working with the leaders of the recent faction, and former members are sharing the article online and sending it to current members across the country. The following document is not a comprehensive response to all the mischaracterizations in her article but rather an account of the investigative and disciplinary process related to the incident raised.

We also would like to make clear, for the sake of people having a full understanding of what happened, Marissa was an active participant in the entire process. She repeatedly expressed to multiple people, both in the immediate aftermath of the incident and in the years following it, that she felt supported by the Party and that she supported the process.

2020 Incident & Accountability

On March 29, 2026, the Standing Committee became aware that Marissa, a former Central Committee member considered a disciplinary incident involving Eugene in 2020 to have been mishandled, the accountability not severe enough, and the support for her to be inadequate.

The incident took place at a house party in November 2020. Marissa brought the incident to the attention of members of the Executive Committee at the time, which prompted an immediate investigation and disciplinary action. We do not share details of incidents widely, primarily out of respect for the comrades most affected by it. In the Party, the norms of our practices regarding disciplinary matters goes as follows: An investigation is conducted by the appropriate body, timeline is collected from all parties involved, disciplinary action is proposed. The proposed disciplinary action is typically brought to the victim before it is carried out. If any disagreements arise, we work through those disagreements with a path forward. Once a decision is made and the disciplinary action is carried out, it is not customarily re-litigated.

During the initial investigation, Eugene claimed he had been too intoxicated to recall the incident, but he did not contest it, and said he would comply with any accountability measure. He offered to resign from the Party. Marissa was involved in each decision made about Eugene’s punishment, and helped craft the decision that Eugene would be suspended from Party activity and leadership for six months. Eugene apologized to Marissa in a meeting she agreed to and facilitated by a leading Party member. Marissa made it clear she did not want Eugene to resign.

In the over five years, from the disciplinary action in 2020-21 to right before she resigned in 2026, Marissa never made the Party leadership aware that she had become dissatisfied about the disciplinary action taken. While she had been part of the accountability process at each step in 2020 and 2021, we only learned in March of 2026, six years after the incident, that Marissa now considered it insufficient and handled wrongly. Every victim, including Marissa, has the right to assert this and to look back on things differently with time. After Party leadership was made aware, the leadership reached out to discuss the matter. Marissa chose not to discuss this further and resigned from the Party. Following her resignation, the National Disciplinary Committee reached out again during the review period. She declined to participate.

As soon as Eugene heard that Marissa felt dissatisfied with the 2020 outcome, Eugene offered to resign from the Party. The Standing Committee accepted the resignation that same day.

Strengthening and Affirming the National Disciplinary Committee

At the time of the 2020 incident, the Party process in place to adjudicate misconduct was for a higher body to handle the charge. There had not previously been charges within the top leadership, and it was handled inside the top leadership as an uncontested charge.

In 2021, the Party initiated an independent National Disciplinary Committe, which was ratified by the Party Congress in 2022 with independent authority. Marissa was one of the founding members of this Committee and helped draft its protocols and processes based on the Party’s history in dealing with these matters. These norms have been used by other Party bodies to deal with new cases.

Following Marissa’s resignation, the NDC initiated a thorough review of the 2020 incident. The incident occurred before the NDC’s existence. The NDC reviewed notes and interviewed comrades involved to the extent possible. In its review, the committee found no evidence that the processes following the 2020 incident had been mishandled. It was particularly important that the accountability process had been swift. Marissa had been engaged at each step. Multiple people who were close to her at the time have independently confirmed that she expressed support for the disciplinary outcome, did not seek a different outcome and expressed she was being supported by the Party.

The NDC has, since its initial formation, been strengthened as a necessary step as the Party continues to grow. It is now institutionalized as a permanent standing and empowered body, composed of long-time women cadres. It has independent authority vested by the Party Congress. Any issues related to sexual assault go to it, bypassing all other leadership bodies, and all comrades must submit to its rulings. The NDC has the right to review all cases of sexual misconduct.

To emphasize, while we do share summaries and decisions of the NDC with the appropriate leadership bodies and occasionally members of the body most impacted, the NDC does not share details of its work or investigations with the wider membership. The primary reasons are to protect the privacy of the victims and to protect the Party from the machinations of the repressive state apparatus. Serious violations and egregious misconduct, which are not common in our party, are expediently investigated and lead to swift disciplinary action up to termination of membership. More often, the charges require time to conduct an investigation and understand the impact of any incident on those involved and on the work of the Party. Fundamental to our approach to these incidents is our understanding as Marxists that people can and do change. Comrades who violate Party norms, but remain in the organization, are punished appropriately and held accountable to ensure that they are meeting set expectations or terms of conduct. The victim(s) of those actions is(are) offered the ability to be involved in the determination of that punishment and the path forward.

Comprehensive Report from the Central Committee
in Response to Marissa Sanchez’s Post

This document was approved unanimously by the Central Committee on Sept. 10. It represents the most comprehensive report we can provide to members.

The Party for Socialism and Liberation has never taken the issues of sexual assault and misconduct lightly. The entirety of our politics is grounded in a well-developed understanding of the nature of oppression and exploitation in capitalist society. Sexual violence affects all people, but it does not affect all people equally. Women are, because of the system’s reliance on patriarchy, subjected to the most horrific forms of sexual violence to keep them dehumanized, isolated from society and the struggles of our class, and highly exploited within the political and economic system. Addressing the manifestations of oppression and the sexual violence that occurs is a requirement of the highest order. We have a proud 22-year history of confronting, rooting out and appropriately addressing these issues. 

On Sept. 7, a lengthy article was published on Substack by-lined by former PSL member Marissa which relates a 2020 incident involving Eugene Puryear, a long-time Party leader who resigned in March of this year. That a woman worker who experienced violence as a young person, and then experienced a violation from a trusted leading comrade, is disturbing, and hard to read for all of us — including those of us who were aware of the incident and did not speak of it widely out of respect for confidentiality of the victim. The Party leadership has maintained, from the moment it took place to now, that this was an absolute violation, which required a swift response, and that Marissa should be supported.

At the same time, the narrative that she now develops, six years later, about what took place after the incident, is false. The history is rewritten to erase the actual care that was provided, to erase the accountability that took place, and to erase what Marissa communicated then and her feelings expressed for years afterwards of feeling supported by the Party leadership. The agreed upon norms of confidentiality in this and other accountability processes — which she helped devise — she now falsely portrays as a cover up.

As written, it appears as an unrelated exposé independently confirming the allegations of the faction that the Party’s elected leaders are nefarious, undemocratic individuals who cannot be trusted. In fact, it was released in a coordinated plan with the same factional operation that goes back as far back as March — which we document at the end. 

We respect the right of all people to change their feelings and opinions over time about such traumatic incidents in their lives. But there are significant factual inaccuracies in what she has related about the accountability process that followed, the level of support she received and about the internal institutions of the Party. These must be corrected, and more information must be provided for accuracy. Due to the high-profile nature of this case, and the fact that we are currently under the highest form of state scrutiny and attack, letting a false narrative like this stand would only serve to sow greater confusion and provide a basis for the opportunistic larger attacks working to disrupt the Party and members’ work at this critical time. 

Under our norms, the details of disciplinary matters and outcomes are kept confidential — especially out of respect to the privacy of someone subjected to sexual misconduct. But given that she has published an article, it is clear that at this time, six years later, we have no choice but to respond. 

The incident and immediate aftermath

There has never been any effort to deny or question what happened to Marissa in November 2020. Eugene sexually groped Marissa at a holiday party. She was believed and not disputed. The Party leaders were shocked and angered that this could take place. Eugene, having been heavily intoxicated, said he did not remember the assault, but did not contest what Marissa said. He accepted responsibility and offered to resign immediately. Marissa said she did not want his resignation, and so another accountability process would be devised in discussions with her. Marissa was at no point challenged or questioned about the incident, as so often otherwise happens in society when women bring serious allegations against men in leadership. There was no foot-dragging or bureaucratic process. We moved swiftly and decisively in support of her and for accountability. The quickness of moving towards a resolution was not a form of pressure, but rather ensured real and immediate accountability from Eugene, and support to her. It was not an option to delay. He was immediately suspended and removed from the situation. 

Before leaving the building, they had a brief meeting where he accepted responsibility, and said he would do whatever he could to remedy the harm; she told him why his actions were hurtful and disappointing, especially as a leader that she had looked up to previously, and with whom she worked so closely almost every day. She wanted to be able to work with him in the future, but it would take time and he would need to get professional help and work on himself. At the end, they tearfully embraced.

Screenshots of her messages to a confidant that day read, “The meeting went good. I said what I needed to say and feel that I got a very genuine apology. He is suspended. No clear time when he will be back.” 

When such acts of sexual misconduct take place, there is no perfect process to repair the harm. Engaging the victim in the accountability process is important to restorative justice. In this case, the resolution, worked out with Marissa in the days that followed, was not that Eugene would “not chair CC meetings for a while,” as she says now. Eugene was suspended from all Party activities for six months — public meetings, internal branch meetings, all bodies of the leadership he sat on, all protests, etc. He was mandated to go into therapy, to try to get to the root of how this happened, and told to give up alcohol for the duration of the suspension, and not go to social activities where Party members would be present. This was developed in discussions with Marissa as an appropriate punishment and response for an offense of this type. She was adamant that Eugene not be expelled, as she told both Ben and the people she confided in at the time. The idea that Ben proposed to just “move on” and never speak of it again is totally untrue. 

After taking some time off after the incident, Marissa insisted on returning to her work. Eugene returned to his office for his professional work, five weeks later, but remained under suspension from all Party work. 

Eugene complied with the terms of the suspension. During this period, he forwarded on all speaking invitations he received, refusing all but one, which Marissa authorized in advance. He signed up for therapy and showed documentation of his visits. He swore off alcohol for the duration. In a series of private conversations, including in the debrief at the end of his suspension, he demonstrated genuine remorse and understanding of the harm he had committed, volunteered to do whatever else was needed, and affirmed that such heavy drinking was unacceptable. The Party leadership had confidence such a violation would not recur and was not a threat to the safety of others — and there have been no charges against Eugene in the years since.

After six months out of Party leadership and all Party activity, Eugene was reintegrated into Party life and resumed the many responsibilities he had been elected to perform. Under the practices and principles of our Party, leadership is not an “elevated status” but an embrace of more responsibilities — chief among them the development of more leaders. In the years after he returned, Eugene played a key role in recruiting, mentoring and training many new cadres, and Black cadres in particular, bringing them into the spaces of the Black freedom movement where he was already the Party’s most well-known figure. From that position of leadership, as a popular communicator and first rate historian of Black history, American history and global politics in the Marxist tradition, he resumed to make a significant contribution to the movement for socialism. Long-term demotions take place in the Party only when the assessment is that the person has a pattern of bad judgment or untrustworthy behavior, or has not adequately learned from their mistakes. In general, after an accountability process is completed, the Party puts members back to work to serve wherever they can best advance the struggle. For people who remain in the organization, there are no forever punishments. 

At this time, there was no National Disciplinary Committee. The National Disciplinary Commission (NDC) was formed in 2021 and ratified by the 5th Party Congress in 2022 to institutionalize the accountability and disciplinary practices the PSL has engaged in since its founding to address any issues of sexual misconduct. If such an incident were to take place today, it would go directly to the all-women National Disciplinary Committee, which has independent authority vested by the Congress, and which all members, including Central Committee members, are subject to. Its decisions are final, and can only be overturned by the Party Congress itself.

Prior to the formation of the NDC, when any charges came up, the existing process over the preceding 15 years was for a higher body to handle the charge. There had never been a charge against someone in the top leadership itself. Marissa at this time was one of three observers to the five-person national leadership, which Eugene was a part of and which met remotely. The only other full-time national leaders in NYC were Ben and Marissa, which is why Marissa came to Ben and he responded to the situation the same day. To give a sense of the scale of the organization at that time, the two of them had been working out of Ben’s apartment in the years before COVID as the “national staff.”

At the time, two elected members of that leadership on the West Coast were told over the phone that Eugene had been suspended for six months due to misconduct at a party while heavily inebriated, without divulging the name of the victim, and he should not be contacted. The observer members of the leadership were told that he was being put into mandatory therapy including for alcohol abuse, and so would not be in the meetings for six months and was not to be contacted so he could focus on that. Marissa had input in what would be told to others, and what would not be shared. 

Marissa’s letter includes supposed quotes from a conversation with Gloria La Riva shortly after her resignation in 2026. Gloria has replied, “The quotes Marissa provided are totally untrue and the description of the conversation is an outrageous distortion. While I knew Eugene had been suspended in 2020, I had not known it involved Marissa in particular. I did not say Ben and Brian mishandled disciplinary cases – leaders who I have total confidence in. The call turned to something I now realize had a deeper purpose on her part. In my conversation she began to say, ‘Everyone knows you and Richard were pushed out from the leadership.’ I said, ‘who says that?’ I was incredulous. When she insisted that was the case, without naming anyone, I told her that he and I are in California, and are in the Central Committee, and the Executive Committee is based in New York, as it should be. Even if I didn’t have a leadership post, I told her I have plenty of work in the party, and I am very satisfied with what I do. It was clear to me she was trying to turn me against the party, by appealing to what she assumed would be unhappiness on my part. I realized what she was doing. But what I didn’t know was the extent she was in ongoing communication with a group intending to rip apart the party. That became clear in the following weeks and I deeply resent her trying to use me against the Party leadership.”

To go back to the events of 2020: under Party norms, confidentiality is a central part of accountability proceedings, especially in sensitive issues. There was nothing unusual about that, then or now, and this did not constitute a “cover up.” She did not object to this norm. As someone who directed many disciplinary processes herself in the years before and after this incident, she always insisted on the same for others in her situation. Marissa helped write those very disciplinary norms into the Party By-laws, and into the National Disciplinary Committee protocols. In some cases, but not all, depending on the wishes of the impacted person, an apology and resolution may be communicated to a wider group of members. We make exceptions to confidentiality where we believe someone poses an ongoing threat to others’ safety, in which case they are expelled and other members, and others in the movement, are notified. When that is not the assessment, as in this case with Eugene, our process is informed by restorative accountability. Unlike the traditional retributive justice system—which relies on public record, public shaming, and punishment—restorative accountability relies upon confidentiality: for the privacy of the wronged party, for repairing harm, for creating space for honest self-reflection, and for successfully reintegrating the individual into work after they have sufficiently complied with the accountability process. An additional dimension in radical political work is that any and all sensitive information can and will be utilized by anti-Party forces, and state agents, to inflame internal contradictions or defame an organization publicly.

With that said, when Marissa expressed that she would like to confide in some more people, she then did so without any reprisal whatsoever. First she told two of the comrades she most trusted about what had happened, and her boyfriend at the time already knew. To the three of them, she said she felt supported by the Party leadership, and supported by Ben in particular, saying she had been treated with great sensitivity. She told a third leading member the same thing about suffering an assault and being well-supported by the Party leadership, without naming Eugene. She apparently told a fourth leader, also a close friend in the Party leadership, shortly after the suspension was over, naming Eugene. None of these confidants of hers were coached in any respect. When she expressed that the Party had supported her, these appear to be her genuine feelings at the time, confirmed by multiple people, including her then-boyfriend and closest confidants. Three of the comrades she brought into her confidence about this incident remained close with her for years afterwards; while she continued to confide in them about any range of personal things troubling her, no one has any recollection of the 2020 incident as one of them. All this was independently verified by the NDC in a 2026 review of the case. The NDC did not exist in 2020.

The following months and years: care and support in NYC and Los Angeles 

In January and February 2021, Marissa went through a difficult and intense break-up in her relationship with her boyfriend. She confided in Ben repeatedly during this period, including coming to his house to talk about her relationship and personal struggles. During this emotionally challenging period, she received extensive care, attention and support – and expressed no dissatisfaction about the handling of the incident with Eugene. Her boyfriend, now ex, was also a co-worker in the same building. She had been doing intense Party work for a few years, which is a common cutoff time period for a staffperson. All this was impacting her work and happiness, and she expressed that it was time for a new chapter. Over time, she expressed the conclusion that perhaps leaving NYC would be preferable. The Party leadership thought of Los Angeles as a place she could make a big impact. 

Contrary to her narrative, she was supported throughout this process. A comrade was assigned to drive her around full-time to see if she would like the city. When she did, she was given the apartment of a comrade in Los Angeles, money for rent and to buy a car — since in L.A. she would need one, and it is difficult to save enough as a staff person to buy a car. This was a sign of care and appreciation – and we have similarly provided relocation expenses for other former staff people after years of service to the Party. It is outrageous to now twist this into “hush money.” In Los Angeles, she was immediately integrated into the branch leadership, and her presence was celebrated as a newly arrived national leader. 

Of course, with a new teaching job, and later grad school, while living thousands of miles away, the frequency of her communications with the party leadership in NYC changed. But it remained very warm, personal and caring. Below are just some of the exchanges. In 2022, while waiting to start back up at her job, she reached out for financial help from Ben, and he loaned her his own personal money. In 2023, after a tragedy in her family, she reached out to Ben for comfort: “I know we don’t talk as often as we used to, but you’ve always been in my corner so I wanted to reach out about this tough situation.” He immediately responded.

In 2023, after Ben helped her resolve a series of issues she was having in the Los Angeles branch, she wrote to express her gratitude: “I know you’re super busy, but it means the world to me that we have leaders like you that always make time for people.” When she heard Ben and his family were coming to Los Angeles that year, she invited them over for the holidays, and to meet her new partner.

All of this was in the years after the 2020 incident, at Marissa’s own initiative. This is not the behavior and words of someone who was shunned or grievously wronged. Although less frequent than when she was in New York, she still called Ben about major life decisions, and questions she was struggling with personally and organizationally. She did not bring up the 2020 incident in any of these discussions. If she had, there is nothing to indicate she would not have received the same sensitivity and attention she received in every other area of her life where she asked for support. 

Marissa remained active in the National Disciplinary Committee throughout this period, and did not at any point ask to reopen or revise the remedies she sought from Eugene or the Party, nor did she advocate to revisit any of the Party’s disciplinary norms or procedures. It is not true that Ben and Brian directed the NDC’s work, nor did they overrule its findings and the targeted demonization of both in the letter is without factual foundation. It is also insulting to the members of the NDC who are strong and principled women comrades. The NDC, including Marissa, handled several complex cases during this period with great sensitivity and principle, providing a sense of justice and accountability to people seeking redress, while also upholding due process and Party norms. The NDC, founded in 2021, only was in session in the event of a serious case of misconduct, and none of the cases it has handled have brought disrepute to the Party.

So something changed to cause this presentation after 5-6 years about both the NDC and the support she received. Marissa had remained in the Central Committee, and was re-elected to it in 2022, having been motivated by other national leaders at the Congress. But afterwards in Los Angeles, other local leaders began to find her less responsive to the needs of leadership, and hard to work with when she did show up. With interpersonal tensions rising, which had nothing to do with anyone in New York, she left the Los Angeles Steering Committee and became much less active in the Party, focusing on her work and family life. After a while, in December 2024, she requested to be re-integrated into national work, and was immediately added back in. She reported to a confidant that her meeting with Brian “went good!” “I feel proud of doing what I had to do [in her personal life] and am deeply thankful I can integrate back in.”

At that point, she understood she was not going to be re-elected by her branch to the Party Congress, and would therefore not be eligible to be in the Central Committee anymore. She made an appeal to Ben to have the Central Committee directly elect her to the 2025 Congress. The National Organization Department discussed this and decided that this would not be appropriate because such positions are reserved for people who had been primarily active in national areas of work, which she hadn’t been over the preceding period. Ben communicated this to Marissa, but explained if she were now able to be more active in other areas of national work, there were many projects she could contribute to for the next few years. She said then that she accepted this, and was excited to rebuild her level of activity. In retrospect, she later told multiple people, she felt not being specially elected by the Central Committee to the Congress as a voting-delegate was a breaking point in her feelings towards the leadership. 

According to Marissa’s own narrative, in 2025 before the Congress, her feelings about the Party as a whole started to change, and now she looked back on the 2020 incident with Eugene totally differently.

But this feeling was still unknown to the leadership. In January 2026, Ben wrote to Marissa to wish her a happy new year, and that all the anti-war activity around Venezuela reminded him of her, and how we are still fighting the same battle all these years later. She wrote back “Man unfortunately yes. It makes me think of being in NYC with you all [and your daughter], but she was so little! Miss everyone. Hope you and the family are well .” 

How we learned of Marissa’s changed position, and our response

In March 2026, we received a call from one of Marissa’s closest friends that she had privately told him a factional operation was being prepared to break away multiple branches across the country. She had just met secretly with a Party leader who was covertly working with others to break away branches and members, who have since left to do precisely that. In this context of considering an effort to split the Party, she stated for the first time in over five years that she felt the 2020 accountability process was insufficient, and no longer believed it should have been kept so private. He alerted the party of the factional operation, but also mentioned her remarks about 2020. The Party leadership began to investigate the factional operation as this was the first time it learned there was a potential plot to break the Party apart. Marissa’s friend told her that he had reported back their conversation about the factional plot for the good of the organization, which upset her very much. Ben, still hoping that he and Marissa had a close bond and that the factional plot was untrue, sent her a message offering to come talk to her in person in Los Angeles if she did not want to talk on the phone. She did not respond. Then a few days later, she replied that she did not want to talk, had been harmed in 2020, and left all Party chats, resigning. 

Marissa’s recounting of how this happened, and her subsequent resignation, leaves out the factional plot entirely. 

As soon as this happened, the Party leadership informed Eugene that Marissa had told others she was no longer satisfied with the 2020 resolution, although had not indicated what other remedies would be. He again offered his resignation on the spot, and this time it was accepted. As in 2020, the Party leadership moved swiftly and decisively out of principle, again based on what we believed Marissa wanted. This too has been twisted into its opposite.

About a month before the leadership became aware of Marissa’s changed position, Eugene received an advanced, potentially life-threatening health diagnosis, which he is still dealing with, and which can be exacerbated by intense stress. He had already stopped coming into the office. We hoped that this ultimate political decision — leaving the organization he helped build his whole adult life — would demonstrate to Marissa his sincere contrition, and show that her concerns, even as they changed, were taken seriously. The NDC reached out to Marissa again to talk after the resignation, but she did not reply. 

What we did hear from other friends of hers is that she expressed that more leaders should know the story. Knowing that, the Central Committee was informed about the incident that had occurred in 2020. We recognized that all victims have a right to change their opinions and feelings about past wrongs, and she should not be judged  for that. We did not disclose to any comrades the reports of a factional operation, which we were still attempting to verify and unravel. We did not speak badly about Marissa at all, and continued to respect her confidentiality and request for space. All Central Committee members were under discipline, if asked, to not break the confidentiality of a situation that Marissa had not yet widely disclosed. Therefore, they were only authorized to disclose that Eugene has a severe health situation. We have had no contact with Marissa since.

Marissa continues to say she never wanted Eugene’s expulsion or punishment, nor does she want it to “define the rest of his life.” If that were the case, this is not how she would have gone about things. 

Women’s leadership

The letter appears designed to direct the shock about the awful incident in 2020 into distrust of two members of its current elected leadership, Ben and Brian, and to completely deny the reality of the PSL’s collective leadership. This can only be achieved by repeating the factional operation’s narrative that erases the role of women in building, maintaining and developing the practices and policies of our party. That is now a common theme in all the attacks. 

In addition to co-drafting this statement, the women members of the Central Committee want to speak separately in their own name on this point, “We are not pawns or pieces to be moved by some small cabal of men who supposedly predetermine our actions, but revolutionary socialists in our own right. Very few women in the party and in society do not have some experience of sexist violation. We are committed to building a world free from the exploitation and violence and abuse that we ourselves have suffered. Yet in a post that claims to seek a better world, those who are named are described as only extensions of the desires of our male comrades. Any serious leftist should think twice about this. We too lead the party. We make up the National Disciplinary Committee. We have spent hours on investigations and interviews and in discussions to ensure our party treats sexual misconduct with care, empathy and on principled views of what it means to transform our class and our society. We strategize the struggles in our workplaces and in our schools and in our communities. We play a visible and necessary role in the struggle and in the Party. It is unconscionable that we are repeatedly denied the right to visibility in attacks that claim to speak against the very violence that women are subjected to in society.”  

For 22 years, the PSL has built a foundation we can be proud of. We have had significant growth over the few years as the popularity of socialism rises among millions, and contributed massively to a range of movements for justice. We have built institutions and processes internally along the way to strengthen the Party, and we remain fully committed to always improving on what exists. We have proven this in practice. Through every stage and phase of the Party’s development, the Party has nurtured a culture inside our organization to not tolerate bourgeois-capitalist attitudes and behaviors of patriarchal violence, misogyny and sexism. The Party has a democratically developed Constitution and Bylaws that empower our members and give legitimacy to our institutions and elected leaders to defend these norms.

This is core to realizing our shared goal of building a genuine socialist party that can, standing with our class, build the movement for a socialist reconstruction in the United States.

Connection to the factional operation

Marissa has the right to change her feelings about a traumatic incident in her life. But why distort and misrepresent what did take place in the accountability process, the care provided and the reasons she either lost or stepped down from her leadership positions in the Party – which had no connection to the incident with Eugene? 

That the letter’s broadside attack on the PSL leadership and institutions coincides with the narratives that are already circulating online against the Party leadership is not just coincidence; it is by design and coordinated. 

In June, a faction of PSL members who had become dedicated to the destruction of the Party announced their resignations and characterized the PSL as a moribund organization arguing that they would commit themselves to “mass organizing” of the working class, and not Party-building or spreading socialist consciousness. Since resigning, the anti-PSL grouping has carried out a coordinated attempt to split members from the Party where they believe they find weaknesses. It seems instead of trying to organize and recruit among the 150 million unorganized workers, their only recruitment targets are existing PSL members. After leaving, they conspired to encourage a grouping in a new city to conceal their political differences and then resign; a battle over control of Party dues and offices ensued. In another city, a factional member used a false name to rejoin the Party in a new branch, and then helped organize the resignation of members. They claimed they would not stoop to personal intrigue and scandal to build their organization, but that is now demonstrably untrue. Factional leader Walter Smolarek was reported as “giddy” about Marissa’s letter, and started calling around to identify weak spots, and has been talking with current PSL members to uncover their most salacious stories, personal intrigue, old traumas and is seeking details in past internal disciplinary proceedings, presumably to prepare another round of attacks. It’s clear that the grouping has adopted a method to drive a wedge in the PSL, encourage resignations and to break trust with Party leaders using shocking “tell-all” innuendo. 

In the last few days we have confirmed more about the connections to the factional conspiracy:

• Summer 2025: Leaders of the future faction began quietly spreading gossip about the 2020 disciplinary incident involving Eugene and Marissa to grow their secret grouping. This was the same time that Marissa says her trust in the national leadership changed and is when she was not specially elected to the Congress.
• March 2026: When Marissa’s apparent dissatisfaction about 2020 first came out, via a trusted friend, it was after she had just met with a leader of the future faction, where they were discussing how to best break apart the PSL. Marissa resigned shortly after this was reported back.
• March-April 2026: Marissa told friends in the PSL, people she was trying to win over, that she had agreed to publish in “six months” to let the factional leaders in the CC “get their projects out of the Party first.” This roughly corresponds to the eventual publication date. 
• In the Brooklyn faction’s internal documents, they instructed their group not to “mention EP” while “consolidating” PSL members to the faction— and other faction leaders told people they did not want their larger organizational-political attack to be immediately overshadowed by a case of sexual misconduct. Proverbially speaking, they wanted to keep this bullet in the chamber for a few months later.
• In the week before Marissa’s letter, factional leaders suddenly restarted communications with current PSL organizers who they had once been close friends with, “just to catch up” — a coordinated probing operation.
• On Sept. 7, the date Marissa released her letter, these same ex-members from around the country had a national in-person gathering. Several of them immediately began firing off messages to current PSL members and leaders encouraging their resignation and to not trust the NDC or the CC to protect women. Another faction adherent immediately posted on X screenshots of the Party’s membership figures from the last Party Congress, emphasizing how many are new recruits, and thus potentially vulnerable to not trusting the Party leadership. 

Final thoughts: NSPM-7

Right now, at a moment of intensifying repression, the PSL is playing a leading role in so many vital struggles. Some comrades have asked whether we believe any of this involves the state. It is not possible to know this with certainty at this stage. What we know for certain is that A) there is a multi-billion dollar law enforcement operation to “destroy and dismantle” the “far left” under NSPM-7 (COINTELPRO 2.0), a document operationalized by a Department of Justice memo to use the full range of tools and methods at their disposal. B) According to media reports, the PSL was specifically named by senior Department of Justice official Harmeet Dhillon as a target to be “dismantled,” a federal grand jury has been convened in the Southern District of New York, and we have faced an unprecedented range of state and Congressional attacks in the last 9 months. C) There is a multi-layered ongoing factional operation underway, that has been rolled out over many months and across many cities, focused on trying to dismantle the PSL from within — rather than focus on organizing towards their own vision. 

Predictably, a right-wing media activist, who funnels stories to FoxNews and the Department of Justice, was the first to post Marissa’s letter. We believe the hidden hand of where state forces are operating will be inevitably revealed in due time. We know from history that COINTELPRO’s favored methods are not overt repression but covert acts to “foster factionalism and cause confusion within the targeted organization,” specifically aiming to discredit its leaders. That requires identifying and manipulating any existing or potential contradictions or grievances, and then hitting relentlessly so that a sensation develops of “where there’s smoke, there must be fire.” The history of COINTELPRO shows that many activists were manipulated by bad actors without any knowledge this was happening – that was in fact the most common form of sabotage. Members and former members have informed Party leadership that the anti-PSL grouping has approached them sowing discontent, searching for potential inflammatory or negative information, and trying to recruit them to the project of taking down the Party. 

When a radical organization is facing a multi-layered operation to discredit it, there is nothing it can do or say to stop the attacks from coming. That is because the operation has a mission — not to improve the PSL or make it stronger, but to make it weaker and collapse the bonds of trust that hold it together. We know the state and far-right want nothing more than to tear apart the largest Marxist party that is playing a critical role in the fight-back against massive right-wing attacks. Building a mass movement against genocide in Gaza, against ICE terror directed at immigrant families, and in defense of democratic rights is the PSL’s real fight, and we aren’t going to back down from it, even in the face of a discrediting, disruption campaign. 

Across the country, comrades are collectively and individually grappling with the shocking news that Marissa publicized on Monday. It is distressing to read, as we are sure parts of this document have been too. But it is critical we not concede to a false narrative intended to decapitate the Party and undermine our ability to continue contributing to the struggle. The true narrative presented here will take time to process. We encourage comrades to read this multiple times and to engage in discussion with the leaders in your branch and city. 

Editor’s Note: This is a republication from a piece by Marissa Sanchez on Substack. The original can be found here. We agree with the author’s analysis, that PSL stifles dissent and operates as a parody of democratic centralism. To hide abuse is the symptom of a structure that must operate anti-democratically by design. The careerist, opportunist tendency displayed by PSL’s leadership, by their org’s guiding strategy, is one which must shield abusers and isolate survivors to sustain itself. To do otherwise is to invite self-reflection and accountability, which will implode their organization like a breach in the hull.

This is not a issue that is unique to PSL, it emerges from all of the top-down, franchise models of the fake “parties.” We called it out in FRSO, and the same structures of anti-democracy perpetuate themselves in virtually all structures of settler socialism. Though it is contained in all of the larger opportunist sects, it is not limited to the big groups, nor does it emerge spontaneously from all organizing at scale. The complicity is an outcome of the logic of the way these orgs are built, from the cell to the body. There are even some local organizations that are in the early stages of reproducing exactly this dynamic under a cult of leadership. This is the churn and burn model at play, that disregards reproductive labor and the safety of membership.

Content note: Please note that this essay discusses sexual assault, rape, suicidal ideation, and organizational misconduct.

Introductory note: In recent months, divisions in DSA and PSL have triggered debates over when it is justified or unjustified to leave an organization, to call for others to leave an organization, or to air problems in an organization. My vantage point has been of someone who quietly left the PSL many months ago based on a private experience with the organization’s systemic problems. In many people’s view, I dealt with my issues with PSL “the right way.”

The way I left did not create any damage to the left. It also denied the left the opportunity to grapple with some very real problems. I am seeing the issue with this as I watch the PSL color themselves as victims and readily labeling people who were formerly their trusted comrades as misogynists and racists and wreckers, without any real interrogation of their claims, and as the protest, fundraising and recruitment machine of PSL continues on uninterrupted.

I, like most serious leftists, do not believe in carelessly tearing apart our own organizations. I also don’t believe good organizations are built by evading accountability. My own experience with the PSL shows the stakes of long-term evasion, the damage it can cause to the movement, to organizations, and to the real people in them.

I also believe that no one can make an informed decision about joining or remaining in an organization if they are deliberately shielded from the actual character of its leadership and structures.

My assault within PSL and its mishandling

Reporting

I called Ben the morning after I was assaulted. I hadn’t slept. I’d spent the night crying, shaking, staring at the ceiling and feeling like the entire room was spinning. By the time I sat on the couch and made the call, I was numb. Through tears, I told Ben what had happened the night before at the holiday celebration we had both been at with comrades. He said he was so sorry. And then, almost in the same breath, Ben said, “Eugene might just want to resign.”

I remember pausing, the words landing somewhere far away from me. It felt strange to be thinking about what would happen to him while I was still trying to understand what had just been done to me.

At that moment, the morning after being violated by someone I thought I could trust completely, someone I considered a comrade and a friend, I said, “I’m not sure that’s what I want to happen.”

I knew instantly that was the right answer. I was commended for being so measured.

After that, the days blurred together. Conversations with Ben about responsibility. About protecting the Party, the projects, the work. About ensuring that nothing would “roll downhill” onto others.

In a meeting led by Ben, I sat down across from Eugene. It had only been a few days since he had put his hand on the most private part of my body without my consent. Eugene said he had been too drunk at the celebration to remember sending me texts asking about how I was getting home before putting his hands on me. He read from a letter he had written, saying he wished he hadn’t hurt me.

The three of us had that conversation in a room at The People’s Forum. The same space we had all been working in together for months. I was sobbing. Self consciously, I reminded Ben and Eugene I wasn’t unraveling just because of what Eugene had done. I reminded them that I have a history of experiences with sexual violence from before Eugene, that in the past I had been violently raped. That I had lived the experience of begging someone to stop. I tried to explain that, while I knew this wasn’t the same as before, to my body the violations felt connected, and that I could feel myself spinning out.

Ben helped suggest a plan. Eugene would apologize. He would spend a month in Baltimore “for health reasons.” He would not chair Central Committee meetings for a while. We would all move on. I agreed.

Over the next few weeks, I spent more time outside my body than in it. I felt panic, my body’s primal response to being harmed in a place I had believed was safe, and an overwhelming sadness. But woven through both was something else; an excruciating sense of responsibility.

It was that feeling of responsibility, more than anything, that felt familiar to me. That I realize now is why I was so quick to agree to Ben’s plan.

It is a feeling I have returned to after every experience of sexual violence. The instinct to search for the point where you went wrong. To locate the cause for harm within ourselves. As if assigning ourselves blame might restore some sense of control or safety.

To be honest about it, people seeking to take on the responsibility of our own harm is not just internal. It is reinforced from the outside. We all know the type of questions that are asked of women who have been sexually violated. “What was she wearing?”, “Was she drinking?”, “Was she flirting?”

In left spaces and organizations, locating responsibility becomes entangled with a different kind of pressure. The pressure of responsibility to the collective. The question shifts almost immediately from what was done to you to what should be done about it? And if there aren’t trauma-informed practices already in place to be followed, that question is then handed back to the violated person to answer. What do you want us to do? As if the burden of response belongs to them, the person who was harmed.

I did not cause harm. Yet I was expected not only to manage my own pain, but its implications for the PSL.

And of course, I did want to move on. To forget. To go back to feeling safe. To think that the PSL was still what I had believed it was when I joined.

Joining

My go-to line was always, “I didn’t join the Party for Socialism and Liberation to be part of a cool-kid clique. I joined because I hate capitalism, and I want to destroy it.” That was my personal maxim. The line I lived by. Because long before I joined the PSL, I had already lived a life that made something unmistakably clear to me. Capitalism is killing our families, and socialism is the only real alternative.

I grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in a working-class family with a single mom, two brothers, and a grandmother helping raise us. My mom worked constantly. She did everything she was supposed to do. She worked hard, showed up, and took care of her kids. Like millions of other parents, it still wasn’t enough to build anything beyond survival.

We had food. We had places to stay. Most importantly, we had each other. But there was no safety net, no savings account, no sense that the future was something we could plan for. And despite my mom’s best efforts when we were small, there were generational traumas that haunted us. Mental illness, religious abuse, domestic violence, sexual trauma. These weren’t abstractions. They shaped our lives in immediate ways.

By the time I was 15, I made a decision that felt like the most stable option available to me. I left home. I decided to take full responsibility for myself because staying felt more chaotic than leaving. My mom was experiencing a mental health spiral, and I believed I could create more stability on my own than I could within that environment.

So I did. I got a job. I dropped out of traditional school and found an alternative high school program that would accept my pay stubs as class credits. From then on, I worked full-time. In fast food, retail, hotels. I depended on every dollar I earned and I spent too damn much of what little I made just to keep a roof over our heads. Mine. My brother’s. My various girlfriends and boyfriends, and just plain friends.

For years, I was hyper-focused on our survival.

I hustled hard all through my teenage years. But the truth is, hard work never scared me, and I don’t often mourn how quickly I grew up because that work did create a lot of stability. I’m proud of the home I built from very little.

But living that life, watching my mom work herself to exhaustion, then doing the same myself, left me with questions that never went away. Why is it that no matter how hard people work, some of us are always just barely scraping by?

When I found Marxism at age 16, it didn’t feel abstract. It felt like recognition. Like someone had finally put language to what I had already lived and understood. Marxism gave me a framework for something I had known all along. We weren’t struggling because we didn’t work hard enough or didn’t know how to “get ahead.” We weren’t traumatized because our family was simply made up of broken people.

So when I joined the PSL in 2015, at 22 years old, I wasn’t new to political thinking. I had already been working for nearly a decade. I had been a Marxist for years. I already identified as a communist. I had gone deep into studying Marxist theory long before it became trendy or visible online.

I joined the PSL because I believed I was joining something historically necessary, because at my core, I believed the highest calling of a working-class girl was to organize for the overthrow of capitalism. That belief shaped everything I gave to the PSL over the next decade.

Organizing

From the moment I joined, I jumped in deep. I organized my whole life around the Party. By 2017, I was asked to come on Party staff and help to build up branches amidst the post-Bernie surge in interest in socialism. I was paid a small stipend each month to organize full time. I drove around the country in my car, surfing on comrades’ couches going city to city, helping branches get their start. I organized protests, mentored new comrades, taught candidacy classes, joined countless meetings, spoke at demonstrations, represented the Party in coalition spaces, and recruited dozens upon dozens of other people to join.

I was soon an invited observer to the Central Committee, then elected to the Central Committee for two terms. I served at points as an observing member of the Executive Committee of the Central Committee, at the time that that body was a real thing.

Eventually, I was asked to move to New York City to help plan the 2019 Congress. Once there, I spent every day with Ben and his family. We organized out of his apartment. We cooked and I helped care for his young child. In those years, I was one of only two party staffers. I did everything from liaising pre-branches around the country, to organizing Congress logistics, to mediating interpersonal issues. My life was building the PSL. There was no one more loyal than me.

All of those years worth of experiences is why being assaulted by a trusted Party leader and friend at a holiday celebration in a comrade’s apartment in November 2020 was so wildly disorienting. And why the way it was handled by Ben and Brian Becker was so hard to reconcile.

After the assault, I was told repeatedly by Ben not to tell anyone. Ben warned me that if I told anyone we might lose connections and projects. He told me that the only people he had told were Brian, Ben’s father, and Karina, Ben’s wife. But neither of them once spoke directly to me about it.

This also meant that out of the five-person Executive Committee, one person, Eugene, had assaulted me. And that two other members, Ben in consultation with Brian, were handling the response. The other elected members were left in the dark, including the one female member, Gloria La Riva. (An aside, I spoke to Gloria after resigning from the PSL in March of this year, and she confirmed that she had never known about the assault until I told her, six years later. Terrifyingly, Gloria also told me on that call that she knew Ben and Brian had mishandled other cases of sexual assault in the past, and that in her opinion they could “destroy the Party” due to their neglect and that she planned to confront them. However, I have since been made aware that Gloria was dispatched to speak with and reassure the few comrades who became aware of my experience after I left.)

The remainder of the Central Committee was also not informed.

Ben explicitly told me that this level of silence was necessary, because if not maintained we could lose the growing relationship with The People’s Forum. We could lose the budding project that was BreakThrough News. That my friends, the comrades I was in a small COVID pod with could lose their jobs. And so, out of an intense sense of loyalty to the projects I had already spent years building, that I had organized my life in service of, I didn’t say anything to anyone.

Except, one person. I had immediately told another member of the Party, my recruiter and mentor, my then best friend, Chris Banks.

When I told Ben that I’d already told Chris, he responded with disappointment. “I wish you hadn’t.” Ben told me he worried that Chris would now be upset because Chris himself had once been suspended for over a year over much less severe allegations, whereas Eugene was getting a much lighter response for a full-on assault.

I explained to Ben that I told Chris because I needed someone to know what had happened. I needed support. I wasn’t okay. Ben recommended that, if I needed someone to talk to, I speak with Nathalie, another woman on the Central Committee. He called her first to explain the situation, then I was allowed to call her.

I remember crying over the phone, telling her how badly I was spiraling, and asking whether she thought all of this was okay. She told me to trust Ben. In every conversation we had afterward, I was encouraged to accept Ben’s plan for how my assault should be handled. I had hoped she would help me make sense of what had happened and advocate for my wellbeing. Instead, our conversations consistently led back to why I should trust Ben’s judgment and move forward with the plan he had already laid out. Looking back, I don’t think I was being connected with a source of support. I was being directed to someone who reinforced Ben’s approach.

A few short weeks later, Eugene was back at work. Comrades working with us, having no reason to suspect that his absence was for any reason sinister, celebrated his return. I told Ben again that I wasn’t alright. That I felt terrible.

The day Eugene came back to work, I threw up in one of the office bathrooms.

And at the lowest part of what I now know was a months-long mental health spiral, caused by being sexually assaulted and receiving no trauma informed support in the aftermath, in February of 2021, I called Chris, the friend Ben said he’d rather I hadn’t told, because I was prepared to take my own life.

I wept and told Chris that my life felt valueless and too painful

Fight, flight, or freeze – I rolled flight

After Eugene came back to work, I asked to be moved. To be re-assigned away from New York City. I was willing to go anywhere. I couldn’t keep seeing Eugene every day. I couldn’t keep pretending I was alright. That was when Brian asked me if I’d like to go to Los Angeles. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But I was willing to try anything.

Three months after being assaulted, on March 8th, International Women’s Day, 2021, I landed in LA.

Shortly after moving to LA, Brian had $8,000 dollars sent to me to buy a car. I felt an unspoken message with that check: that I was lucky, that I had nothing to complain about, and that I should stick to the plan, keep quiet and move on.

In LA, I tried to keep up. To get back to normal. To keep being a “good comrade”. Of course, I was also internally just trying to hold myself together, which no one else knew.

Once in LA, I asked to be taken off Party staff. At the time, I couldn’t fully explain why. Looking back, I’m grateful my brain was protecting me. My subconscious knew I needed distance from the people who had manipulated me into silence, even if I couldn’t yet name what had happened. It took another year, but by 2022 I was finally off the Party payroll.

Even though I needed a break, I never stopped organizing. In LA I was elected to the Steering Committee, and was re-elected to the Central Committee at the 2022 Congress.

However, when it came to my relationship with Ben and Brian, I stopped feeling like a respected comrade and started feeling like a problem to be managed. When I would talk with them, I felt them caught between two impulses: keep me happy, and keep me at arm’s length. The warmth I had felt in the past had disappeared, or it seemed to come in artificial, strategic spurts. When I sought their advice they were quick to dismiss any of my concerns, place blame onto me in conflicts, and called me “competitive”. Which was stunning to me, because I knew competition with comrades was never a motive of mine. They stopped seeking me out for assignments.

At one point, I called Nathalie to seek her advice about how I was feeling. I described to her my struggle to get along with leaders who had a different approach than me in Los Angeles, and how I was now struggling to gain access to consistent areas of work nationally. I told her I couldn’t help but wonder if things had shifted so dramatically because of what had happened with Eugene. She told me she didn’t think that was the case, but offered no other explanation.

At the same time that I was fighting, seemingly now by myself, to move forward inside the organization, I was also starting to build a relationship with myself that I had never had before.

Growing up as fast as I did, my identity had been shaped by survival, caring for others, and then by the Party. For years, who I was, what I valued, how I made decisions, it was all filtered through what the PSL needed, what was disciplined, what served the work.

But as I moved closer to being in my thirties, that began to change.

I started to pay attention to myself in a different way. To my limits, my emotions, the quiet signals in my body that I had spent years overriding. That the experience of rape will suppress in anyone, because in order to protect yourself, you shut off feeling your own body and emotions, and then that survival mechanism can echo for years.

Underneath the California sun, I started, for the first time, to develop a sense that I deserved care. Not just as a comrade, not just as a worker, but as a woman, as a person.

And that shift made something else happen. It made my experience harder and harder to explain away. To keep taking responsibility for. The more I respected myself, the harder it became to reconcile what had happened with the story I kept telling myself about Ben and Brian. I wanted to believe they cared about me. That they were mentors who had made mistakes but ultimately wanted what was best for me and for the Party.

But believing that required me to distort my own experience.

It required me to ignore the fact that when I was at my most vulnerable: crying, disoriented, asking for help, I had been managed and silenced, not supported. That what was actually obvious, be it painful to admit, was that their decisions had not been made based on care for me or our shared project. That what happened was totally lacking in transparency, accountability, or even the basic recognition that what had happened was truly wrong and not something that could simply be explained away by “too much alcohol.”

Looking back now, I don’t think what I actually needed then was particularly mysterious. I needed time with people who loved me. Time away from organizing without worrying that I was letting anyone down. I needed the comrades I worked beside every day to know enough to understand why I was struggling, so that I was surrounded by support instead of silence.

I think this kind of paradigm shift is something nearly all women experience as they move from their twenties into their thirties. There is a process of reflection, of looking back at the relationships, the institutions, the organizations, the choices that shaped us and asking, sometimes for the first time: Was that okay? Was I treated with care? Did I deserve better? Was I just numb the first time around?

As my identity became more defined, more grounded in my own sense of self rather than in what was expected of me, I couldn’t bring the developing version of myself into alignment with what I had lived through.

Something had to give. And eventually, it wasn’t my growing sense of self respect.

I started to look in a new way at the organization I had committed my whole adult life to building, and allowed myself for the first time to actually question it.

Disillusionment

My disillusionment with the PSL didn’t come all at once, but a big piece clicked for me in 2025 with the 6th Party Congress.

Before the Congress, knowing I would again spend days in the same room as Eugene, Ben, and Brian, I realized I needed to talk to someone. Not Ben, not Nathalie, but someone I could trust cared about me. Even if it meant I was breaking discipline. I called a comrade in Albuquerque who is like a sister to me. I told her what had happened, what I was feeling. This time, I wasn’t assured it was okay. She didn’t say, “trust the comrades”. She was outraged. She cried. She was disgusted.

That conversation helped confirm for me that I wasn’t crazy, or weak, or responsible for what had happened to me. I had been wronged.

At the Congress, watching Eugene and Ben and Brian speak in session after session, I felt sick and trapped. On the third night of the Congress, I broke discipline again. I asked another woman on the Central Committee, someone who I had helped to recruit years before and who had been in very similar positions in the organization as me, if we could talk. We sat down on a curb in the dark and I told her everything. Again, it wasn’t assured away. She recognized in what I told her the patterns of the organization. She understood intimately how this could have happened. We reeled together at the reality of the organization we served. I asked her not to tell anyone and she didn’t.

While at the Congress, another situation unfolded that left me reeling. I watched leadership attack another woman comrade who I had known for years; who had also dedicated her life to building the Party.

During a session on artificial intelligence, this woman leader, an engineer with deep expertise, raised political concerns about the highly positive orientation on AI that was being presented. She had already submitted thoughtful written criticisms through the official pre-Congress process. It didn’t matter. Later that day, Brian pulled her aside and loudly berated her in view of people walking by.

Immediately afterward, leadership introduced an AI resolution and manufactured a “debate”. Comrades were pulled aside and instructed to speak in support of the AI resolution without being given access to read it before the session. Consensus was manufactured in real time. Kei Pritsker spoke out against this maneuvering and manipulation from the Congress floor. (Kei and the woman engineer have since resigned from the PSL)

Watching this unfold confirmed a fear I had resisted for years. Inside the PSL, genuine, thoughtful, political disagreement is treated as a threat rather than part of collective development. Even when it’s coming from trusted comrades who have proven their loyalty to the project from years of dedication.

Ultimately, it was at the Congress that I finally saw the organization from a perspective I could no longer deny. I was no longer looking at it as someone eager to prove herself or willing to explain away its contradictions. I was looking at it as someone who had given it everything, been harmed by a trusted leader, been left to navigate that harm alone, and yet still desperately wanted to believe the organization was capable of political honesty and growth.

What I saw instead was a leadership clique around Eugene, Ben and Brian that had consolidated its authority and would not tolerate meaningful criticism, even in the very spaces where criticism was supposedly being invited. And given my experiences with these specific men, I could no longer believe that the immense authority they commanded was justified by respect they had earned within the Party. I knew too much about how they exercised that authority behind closed doors.

After the Congress I talked a couple of times in the year since with the woman comrade I had confided in there, and I told her I was debating leaving the organization. I told the woman comrade from Albuquerque who I first confided in the same. Out of a sense of loyalty to our friendship, I also decided to tell Chris, who at that point had been quietly moved to a different state after becoming involved in another sexual misconduct scandal himself.

Chris went to Ben behind my back and told him about our conversations.

Ben began messaging me, expressing concern that I was unhappy with how my assault had been handled. He told me he would fly out to see me.

I couldn’t imagine having to sit in a room with Ben to discuss my assault again. I couldn’t imagine being asked what I wanted to make this all go away. I didn’t want to participate in figuring out damage control again, six years later. I knew the Party still had no processes in place to give me the care I needed then, let alone now. So I decided it was time for me to leave. I texted Ben back that his offers to fly out and see me didn’t address the harm that was done. Then I left the dozens of PSL chats I was in, and that was it. I was out.

I was soon called and texted by another leader, this time a woman. She informed me that Eugene had offered his resignation and the Party had accepted, as they found my feelings that my assault had been mishandled as “legitimate”. I was told the Party was taking this very seriously and was “reconstituting” and “systematizing” the Party’s processes through the National Disciplinary Committee (NDC), so this would never happen again. I had to laugh, because the comrade texting me and I both knew the truth about the NDC.

The lesson PSL refuses to learn

The PSL learned in 2020, both from my case and another sexual assault allegation, that it needed better protections, not real protections against assault, but PR defenses for the organization. That was when the PSL established the National Disciplinary Committee (NDC). I was asked to be part of its creation, just two months after my assault, when I was actively spiraling.

From the beginning, the NDC was a performance. It was guided by Ben, with three women of color there to legitimize it with our identities and our experiences with sexual violence.

The NDC was sufficient as long as it existed conceptually enough to be pointed to. No process was ever concretely developed or implemented. Certainly there was no clear process ever distributed to the membership or local leaders, no process that members know to follow. I truly challenge any member to cite evidence otherwise. In reality, allegations of misconduct continued to be dealt with through loose processes, typically handled by women who would call themselves members of the nonexistent “NDC,” operating as intermediaries for Ben or Brian.

I looked back and found the draft document we developed, in January 2021, which never became a real thing. What it outlines is far from a set of trauma-informed practices. It’s a set of protocols for damage control. It’s irrelevant anyway. Real processes for the NDC were never actually researched or developed beyond the one draft document. The point was that there was a document that carried the names of three women, including mine, which allowed the Party to say, “Women built our process, women who themselves experienced sexual violence, women of color. Question that and you question them.”

When in March of this year, Dolores Huerta and so many brave women came forward about César Chávez, PSL members in many of the branches that I liaised asked questions about our processes. In response to such questions from members, an internal orientation pointed to the NDC as proof of the safety and accountability for women in the PSL. It was just a few weeks later that I finally quit, and was told that the NDC would be “reconstituted” and “systematized:” an open admission that it had not actually been active, even though it had literally just been pointed to in response to concerns about Chávez that the PSL takes SA seriously.

To this day, nothing about how this was handled reflected care for me or concern for accountability. I didn’t ask for Eugene’s resignation. If what happened truly was a terrible drunken mistake, I do not believe it has to define the rest of his life. I never wanted punishment. I always wanted care.

When I was assaulted, I needed to be allowed to simply be the person who had been harmed. Instead, I immediately was handed the full burden of protecting both Eugene and the Party’s reputation. There needed to be a process that allowed me space and protection, allowed both of us to confront what happened honestly, and define a way to move forward collectively.

At the same time, their lack of process, and transparency means we still do not know whether I am the only person he has harmed. I carry the fear that there are other women who could say, “Me too.” And that for years, while I tried to be a “good comrade,” my silence may have betrayed not only myself, but them as well.

And that is what makes watching this unfold so painful. Once again, Eugene quietly leaves Party chats under the explanation of “health reasons,” while unsuspecting comrades send him heart emojis and well wishes. The pattern has not changed. The leadership remains committed to protecting its own reputation rather than confronting harm with accountability, and it still does not reckon seriously with what sexual violence does to the people who endure it.

Eugene’s resignation six years after the fact is nothing but a sacrificial offering to protect Ben, Brian, and the organization’s reputation. It’s a strategy. I anticipated from the moment I decided to leave that the Party would panic and want to put on record actions that can be referred to if they ever had to own up publicly to their mismanagement.

What their response has proven to me is that, despite every opportunity to learn their lesson, nothing fundamental has changed. Still the only thing that determines the process is the insulation of the organization. Not me, not what I want, not what will allow for reconciliation and healing, not what best protects women in the organization, not what corrects problems in the organization, but what protects Ben and Brian and the PSL from facing scrutiny.

What now?

I know what the response to this account will be: that Marissa never expressed any dissatisfaction with the “process”, that we did the best we could, and we’re learning now.

As a longtime organizer in a young and evolving organization, I have ample sympathy for the growing pains and inevitable shortcomings of an organization striving to do a lot with a little. But is this a good excuse?

It’s true, at the time of my assault, the PSL had no formal standards for handling such matters. The organization had also existed for 16 years. Numerous situations requiring navigating allegations of sexual misconduct had already come up. Ample resources on best practices existed to support the development of clear, trauma-informed processes in any organization. The PSL just did not use them. It instead opted for whatever informal secret resolution best served minimization in each case. And the truth is, if I sat down with Ben earlier this year when he offered to fly out and see me, I would have only experienced more of the same.

Unfortunately, my expectation is also that I will be more vehemently condemned by PSL leadership for my choice to share my experience than Eugene will be for assaulting me, or Ben and Brian will be for how they handled the situation.

This reality gets at the heart of something fundamental. What does it mean when someone who has been harmed is held to a higher expectation of perfection and discipline than the men who harmed her? Why are her choices considered more harmful to the movement than theirs?

An organization that cannot meaningfully hold its own leadership accountable, that must protect one or a handful of central figures at all costs, is not going to last.

If its members can substantially change it, great. For me, I no longer believe staying in the PSL is the principled choice. Nor do I believe the PSL can lead the kind of change our class needs. I don’t say that out of bitterness, but after eleven years of trying to build the PSL and watching it fail to correct itself at every opportunity.

Our class doesn’t need perfection. But it does need better leadership than this. It needs honesty. It needs accountability. It needs structures that can face harm without collapsing into denial or control. It needs organizations whose principles apply to their own leadership as much as anyone else.

It’s not good enough to keep telling us that we have a responsibility to a bad organization just because organizations must exist.

I still believe in fighting for a socialist future, but I believe we must do this with eyes wide open. I hope my story will help others to open their eyes and see.

In Harlem, New York, on January 2nd, 2025, a man attacked a woman, with words and fists, and paid the price. 

Jaia Cruz, a 24 yr old woman, who is transgender and Latina, was standing in line at a deli. An argument started with Ray Hodges, a 36 yr old Black cis man, over who was next in line. This escalated rapidly. Hodges called Cruz slurs, and attacked  her. She told him to stop, and he continued to attack. She said she would kill him if he continued, and he pushed her against a refrigerator. She drew her knife, and he died en route to the hospital. 

The outrage machine has spun up shockingly fast, even for this time of escalating terror against trans women. She was described as “towering” and “giant” by Yahoo! in a classic monsterization of trans women (her height is the fourth search result on google). The New York Post published an article whose title called her “Pure evil” and “A disgusting excuse for a human being.” While he attacked her, Hodges called her a “faggot” and a “tranny”.  During her sentencing, Hodges’ family chanted and jeered “It’s a boy!” and “Fucking boy!” at her. She has been deadnamed, misgendered, verbally and socially abused in the reaction-economy, accused of being on drugs, a slut, aggressive; and people gleefully fantasize over what hideous violences await her in, as anonymous people are giddy to point out, “men’s prison.” Ms. Cruz is sadly no stranger to either violence nor public spectacle. Her image and dignity having been thrown to the rabid dogs of social media earlier last summer when videos circulated of her being viciously beaten in public by two men. 

Make no mistake, people know what they are calling for when celebrating her incarceration, when lying about her gender, and gleefully hoping she is sent to men’s prison. Trans women are subjected to a regime of sexual violence and torture in men’s prison. We are placed into disgusting circumstances by people who fucking hate us, who desire nothing more than our violent debasement. One aspect of this debasement is known as “V-Coding”, a system in which we are “given” to inmates to be violated, raped, and abused. 

Would this have gone differently if Jaia did back down? Certainly! Another woman’s life may well have been extinguished, gone unremarked upon, another abject, another victim, and Hodges may well have gone free in the city whose police brutally murdered Marsha P. Johnson and threw her body in the Hudson River. Trans women are a precious resource in patriarchy and racism and our lives are extinguished frequently in the pursuit of its violent maintenance. Cruz did only what was necessary, backed up against a literal wall, unable to trust anyone except herself. She does not deserve to be the new face of this hyperviolence, nor the recipient of targeting by the unleashed dogs of a reactionary, blood-thirsted public. She deserves a long life, surrounded by loved ones, outside of public mockery, out of prison, and free from the clutches of the fascist rape-reich. 

Transmisogynoir, the hyperviolent intersection of anti-Blackness, misogyny, transphobia, misogynoir, and transmisogyny, sits as a fulcrum, a break-glass-in-emergencies tactic, to be wielded even by other oppressed groups. It allows the violence being suffered at the hands of the state to be redirected against abjected minorities. Trans women’s lives are fertile soil for the flowering of love, care, community, beauty and liberation, yet we are made dirt to the vast majority of the wider populace, ground for growing and training violence, prejudice, and resentment. 

The resistance against this tightening is already sprouting as well! Rodney Hinton Jr.’s heroic retaliation against police that brutally murdered his son was treated with the same spectacle and the same theater.

“Your favorite song… Nicola, Bart – immigrants, wrongly executed… But their deaths served as a message to others: that ours is a society that murders the innocent. Do you, too, believe that your sacrifice will change the world?”

Skull Face

Make no mistake. This occurred during the allegedly “most pro-worker”, “pro-trans” Biden Regime. The Democrats have been no friends to trans people. When prompted, Kamala Harris refused to even say that trans women deserved rights and healthcare. Gavin Newsom has pushed transphobic rhetoric, actively exhorting the fascist ranks of their evil party to abandon trans people altogether.  There has been nothing but escalating violence, genocidal rhetoric, and an unceasing hitlerian regime of legislation being introduced, un-fucking-challenged in both red and blue states, designed to cut trans people out of all walks of life, especially trans women.

Two trans women were attacked in broad daylight in a train station in Minneapolis, Minnesota, a self-declared trans sanctuary state! Sam Nordquist, a Black trans man, was tortured to death over the course of a whole month earlier this year in New York! In May of 2025, the suicide of a trans girl was turned into a spectacle to jeering hordes on twitter who mocked her relentlessly and turned her despair into celebration. 

The amount of violence has hardly escalated. We have always been hideously subjected to violence, including rape, murder, beatings, homelessness, and exploitation. What has changed has been the rhetoric and spectacle surrounding our deaths. From Norm Macdonald on Saturday Night Live saying of Brandon Teena’s rape and murder, “Now, this might strike some viewers as harsh, but I believe everyone involved in this story should die,” in 1993, to now where we can look forward to outright celebration, heroizing of our killers, beaters, rapists and attackers.

Transmisogyny flourishes in the client states of the U.S. Empire as well. On April 4th, 2025, Sara Millerey González, a trans woman from Colombia, was raped, beaten, and mutilated by having all her limbs broken, before being thrown into a stream in a ravine to drown to death. She later died in the hospital. Again, people prioritized filming the spectacle instead of stepping in to stop it. 

What will we do then? So much structured, dedicated, motivated violence is arrayed at the innocents, who the Empire has decided to grind into a pulp as it thrashes.This will not resolve with simple reforms. Just like Pavlov and his dogs, the reactionary elements have been primed, conditioned, and rewarded for their worst impulses, encouraged and trained to salivate when they smell fresh meat. 

Jaia Cruz’s actions in her own defense will serve as a warning to those who would terrorize us. We will not be passive or pacific. We will no longer ask timidly for respect of our pronouns. We will instead demand our safety, knowing that it will only blossom from the barrel of a gun. Let her serve as a rallying call to all transfeminine people to organize for our self defense. Let us be unafraid, disciplined, and swift. 

We cannot trust so-called “allies” any longer. You are with us, or you are against us. You will fight and bleed and die alongside us, or you sentence us to abject horror in prisons, allowing and committing our murders alongside the cops and fascists and bigots. It has been too long that queerness and transness have primarily been a vehicle for otherwise neutral parties to feel good about their own pathetic, capitulationist lives. That ends now. End your own complicity. Buy us weapons, food, housing, hormones, and stay the fuck out of our way.

Some queer people may react to this essay with timidity, and to that I say, I am not sorry. We are not at a point where you can opt out of the violence because it will find you. There is not an off ramp, there is not a reformist track anymore. Brianna Wu and Buck Angel are not going to fucking save you, and begging the Democrats will give you nothing. Get with the program.

Unrelenting, unmitigated, unapologetic terror against the enemies of trans women’s dignity and safety is the only answer. Trans women will never be respected until every aspiring woman-beater, self-indulgent rapist, and whinging, sniveling, coward who hides behind a screen to mock our deaths, is afraid for their miserable, worthless lives, afraid to look us in the eye for fear of being the last thing they ever see, afraid to be cut down in righteous self- and community- defense. 

“We have no compassion and we ask no compassion from you. When our turn comes, we shall not make excuses for the terror.”

Karl Marx, The Communist Manifesto

Cruz said to investigators:

“I told him, ‘You come to me and I’ll kill you.’”

“No motherfuckers are going to put their hands on me no more.”

“He tried to mess with me because I’m trans, and I poked him up.”

“I hope he’s maggot food.”

Good for her! Well that she is still here. This is only what is deserved by people who would hurt vulnerable women. 

“I killed him laughing. Oh, well. I’ll piss on his grave.”

The settler state and its police refuse to search for the bodies of these women. The cracker government gives various excuses — all inadequate — for its inaction, such as the three years it would take to search the landfills, the expense of up to $184 million, the possibility of exposure to toxic chemicals, and the sheer gruesome nature of what may be discovered. One excuse not invoked by the state: the potential to uncover many more corpses than those of the four aforementioned women, which would be a scandal for the police and government.  Meanwhile, Manitoba Premier Heather Stefanson bloviates about building a memorial, and about “feasibility studies.”

All of the above is reminiscent of a previous prominent Canadian serial killer, Robert Pickton. Pickton claimed to have murdered 49 women, of whom 26 were confirmed, but he was only found guilty and sentenced for killing six. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police originally only searched Pickton’s pig farm in order to score easy money by ticketing unregistered firearms. They dragged themselves to investigate further when they found two missing womens’ blood and property. It took five years and cost $70 million to unearth the remains of the 26 women on Pickton’s farm. After his conviction, the Canadian Supreme Court found no further reason to continue trying Pickton, as there was no higher punishment possible for him. It will be much the same for Skibicki, who is already charged with first degree murder. He will be quietly put away and the government will claim justice has been served. But the conditions that allowed him and Pickton to commit their crimes, to murder Indigenous women under the settler state’s radar, will remain for as long as the Canadian state persists. For example, Robert Pickton’s brother David Pickton, who was previously convicted for groping and threatening to rape and cut a woman into pieces, walks free today. His freedom only required his claim ignorance of his brother’s crimes, despite having worked on the farm where they took place.

None of this is accidental. Whenever Canada looks into its past, it always unearths more Indigenous bodies than it bargained for. In 2021, a search uncovered a mass grave of 215 Indigenous children at a former residential school in Kamloops, British Columbia. More schools across Canada and the U.S. were searched. This resulted in the discovery of the bodies of more than 10,000 Indigenous children. The liberal Canadian media describes these events as “tragedies” and publishes reports of unheeded recommendations. For example, the government found many instances of what it called “police mishandling” in Forsaken: The Report of the Missing Women Commission of Inquiry, a 2012 British Columbia provincial government inquiry into the Pickton murders. This report had dozens of recommendations for the police and provincial government, but none were taken seriously. Indigenous leaders accuse Canada of disregarding the lives of missing and murdered Indigenous women and children. This is true, but misses the full picture.

In actuality, the settler terror incarnate in the murder of untold thousands of Indigenous women and children is vital to the Canadian state. The settler government “cares” only insofar as the violence must continue. To accuse the police of “mishandling” these cases is an understatement bordering on injustice, for the police are not mere bumbling fools. True to their role in the history of Canada, they are active collaborators with settler terrorists! Some Canadian police admitted in the 90s that they would rather solve one murder of a white, bourgeois victim, than investigate the deaths of a dozen prostitutes — who are disproportionately drawn from Indigenous and racialized women. Police comments of this nature were documented in case studies into the Pickton murders, such as Stevie Cameron’s On The Farm. As for the perpetrators, liberals consider them monstrous, and rightly so, but fail to recognize that becoming a serial rapist-murderer is the logical apotheosis of settlerism. There are no acts more viscerally colonial than direct, individual sexual violence and murder against the colonized. To understand the causes of this violence, and its ubiquity in Canadian society, one must recognize the mountain of colonialist cruelty in Canada’s dark and genocidal history — the mountain these acts stand atop. 

The inability to recognize such grotesqueness condemns liberalism as a failed ideology. Even when some well-intentioned liberals document the atrocities in historic works such as Clearing The Plains, by James Daschuk, or true crime texts like Cameron’s On The Farm, the most they can accomplish is a grim witness-bearing. There is no prescription in liberalism to end the spilling of Indigenous blood by settlers and the settler state. The best liberalism can offer is some befuddled discourse and solemn “remembrance.” As Daschuk said in an interview with Saskatoon’s StarPhoenix news in 2016, referring to the deliberate mass starvation of Indigenous peoples by the Canadian government, “the stories were so profound and the truths, in some cases, were so ugly that we can’t turn our backs on them.” But what does it mean to not turn one’s back? In Canada’s case, not a lot — typically some mumbled apology and dead-end state “inquiries.” In that same interview from nearly a decade ago, Daschuk stated, “I think we’re at a moment. I think there’s enough momentum, and goodwill in the general population” to “examine how our society might right its inherent inequalities.” But in the years since, this hasn’t transpired, nor can it. The graveyard of failed bureaucratic endeavors surrounding Canada’s genocidal past and present, which includes the now-dissolved Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the Forsaken inquiry in British Columbia, and whatever crib-strangled half-effort will soon emerge in Winnipeg, is only expanding, while the “inherent inequalities” remain and genocidal injustices continue.

Anti-colonial resistance must be found beyond liberal frameworks. On July 7th, the pig government of Manitoba told the families of Morgan Harris and Marcedes Myran, to their faces, that they would not search the Brady landfill, despite the feasibility study demonstrating that a search was possible. In a hollow and tired deflection, Premier Stefanson cited safety concerns to workers conducting the search, and suggested that the search should be the federal government’s responsibility. In response, Indigenous activists, including Morgan Harris’s daughter, Cambria Harris, rightfully and immediately blocked access to the landfill, returning to a protest tactic first applied last year, when these murders first came to light. This people’s blockade against the settler government is continuing, even though the City of Winnipeg filed an injunction on Tuesday, July 11th to have it forcibly dispersed. Naturally, the demonstrators are unlikely to acquiesce to the city’s demand, and have every right to hold their ground.

The reoccupation and blockade of their own stolen land is an essential tactic for Indigenous resistance to colonization across Turtle Island. From present struggles in Wet’suwet’en and Landback Lane, weaving back through the “IdleNoMore” movement and “NoDAPL” protests at Standing Rock, Indigenous actions have been most successful when they impede the movement of the settler state, settler capitalist firms, and settler “private citizens,” and settler access to land. Looking only slightly further back into history, the settler government’s fear becomes palpable when it is confronted with armed land reoccupations, as occurred during the Kanesatake Resistance (Oka Crisis) in 1990, and Wounded Knee in 1973. These brave acts of popular anti-colonial resistance stand at the head of five centuries of Indigenous resistance, and will continue until settler colonialism is finally dismantled. The nascent actions to blockade Brady landfill are only a thread in this storied history.

Unfortunately, until they are united in a broad people’s anti-colonial movement, these actions can only delay and prolong the ongoing displacement and genocide regime of the U.S.–Canada settler empire. It is a death by a thousand cuts. The 1980–94 Clayoquot protests (The War in the Woods) did not prevent greedy settlers from harvesting old growth lumber in British Columbia for long — similar events unfolded only three decades later in the 2020–22 occupation at Ada’itsx (Fairy Creek). The capitalists, motivated by their unceasing, existential drive for endless profits, will never willingly stop; they will raze the whole Earth, if they are allowed to do so, and they will be aided at every step by the capitalist class-dictatorship state. Clayoquot and Ada’itsx demonstrated that the state has endless patience and capacity to jail peaceful protesters. The plaudits heaped by the state on acts of peaceful resistance, thereby condoning and denuding these actions of revolutionary impetus, are another obstacle. Still, it’s clear that while Canada, its police, and its corporations exist, there can be neither lasting peace nor permanent victories in the Indigenous liberation struggle. There can be no justice for the tens of thousands of children buried beneath residential schools or for the uncounted hundreds, if not thousands, of missing and murdered Indigenous women.

Unfathomable cruelty characterizes the Indigenous experience in Canada and across Turtle Island. The settler state offers only this choice: they may live on the rez (reserve/reservation) and contend with an ongoing cultural and literal genocide, or they may leave. If they leave, however, they’re extremely likely to be criminalized, rendered homeless, victimized by physical, emotional, and sexual violence (including disappearance and murder), or any combination of these traumatic experiences and horrible fates. If they are murdered, their bodies can be buried in landfills or fed to pigs. Their spirits and families can find no peace. Yet liberal settlers dimly wonder why the phrase “Reconciliation is Dead” is popular.

The sum of this experience is sometimes called the “Fourth World” — in which primarily Indigenous and Black people, but also gender nonconforming and disabled people, live Third-World conditions in allegedly First-World countries like Canada or the United States. In this framework, Fourth World communities are understood to occupy a unique underclass, beneath the settler working class proper. Fourth-World workers are locked in a web of contradictions with the capitalists, the First-World workers, and the “Fourth-World” propertied classes all at once.

Fourth Worldism dovetails with Engels’ theory of labor aristocracy and Sakai’s theory that settler proletarianism is a myth. In letters to Marx in the 1850s, Engels worried that England, then the “most bourgeois of nations,” feeding itself on the spoils of hundreds of millions of people in its colonies, would soon have not only a bourgeoisie — its capitalists — but also a “bourgeois working class.” Marx and Engels feared that England’s colonial plunder would be sufficient bribery for its working class to betray their own class interests at the expense of racialized workers and workers abroad. Marx, for instance, wrote that the English working class would never free itself from “its own” capitalists until it stood in solidarity with liberation movements in Ireland, India, and other British colonies. The situation Engels described is sadly true in Canada and the U.S., where the settler proletariat has, time and time again, betrayed its class interest as workers to align with the settler capitalists, at the expense of  Turtle Island’’s colonized and other “Fourth World” peoples. Sakai takes Engels concept to its furthest extreme and claims, “Amerika [or canada] is so decadent that it has no proletariat of its own, but must exist parasitically on the colonial proletariat of oppressed nations and national minorities.” For Sakai, settlers only exist to brutalize the Indigenous proletariat, whose slaughter and dispossession built the luxuries they enjoy.

Regardless of whether we find these theories plausible and rigorous, or nonsense, the wretched lived experience of Canada’s Indigenous populations cannot be denied, nor can the solution to their predicament be avoided. The Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island understand that the settler state will not change its colonialist character out of good will; it will only capitulate to any demands made from a position of power. As Mao said, “political power grows out of the barrel of a gun.” The present mobilized resistance, while heroic, must spark the revitalization of Indigenous revolutionary anti-colonial organization, complete with the capability for armed struggle. When Indigenous nations make the settler pay in capital, real estate, political standing, comfort, and blood for his broken treaties and residential schools, his sprawling suburbs and golf courses, his oil pipelines and cleared forests — then and only then will the restoration of Indigenous sovereignty become realizable. The 1974 successful re-establishment of Ganienkeh as Kanienkehaka (a sovereign nation governed by its own laws and traditions) by the Mohawk, against the U.S. government, shows only an elementary hint of what could be. Let a thousand Ganienkehs overgrow the entirety of Turtle Island!

Among the settlers there is a desperate need for mass cultural upheaval. We must expunge the cultural and economic conditions that culminate in the violation and murder of Morgan Harris, Marcedes Myran, Rebecca Contois, Mashkode Bizhiki’ikwe, and the thousands of other Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG). This begins, at the community level, by terrorizing the terrorists — by keeping a vigilant watch on settlers who show any political inclinations toward fascism and any personal inclinations toward domestic, sexual, and other interpersonal violence. Pickton and Skibicki could never have gotten away with their crimes for so long, had they not been shielded by whole communities, who (at best) looked the other way and (at worst) aided and abetted them. But this is only the elemental level. The solution cannot be merely personal and communal; it must be political. Communists must heed the call of Indigenous liberation. Full decolonization, which can only mean the abolition of the existing settler state and the utter destruction of the U.S.–Canada Empire and its settler society, the total restoration of Indigenous sovereignty, and the prolonged reeducation of the settler population must be included in our minimum programme. This is the only way towards any semblance of genuine “Truth and Reconciliation.” Only the anti-colonial revolution can achieve anti-colonial justice. If projects cannot uphold this bare minimum, they will be eradicated in the forthcoming revolution. If we settler would-be Communists fail to reeducate ourselves, then we will rightfully reap the 531 years of rape and murder we continue to visit upon this land and its people.

Author’s Endnote: In this piece I have used standard capitalization for illegitimate place names, such as canada. Rest assured, this was only done for legibility, and I don’t consider canada to be a legitimate nation.