In June 2024, members of the Arts of the Working Class team—Dalia Maini, Maria Inés Plaza Lazo, Pauł Sochacki, Theresa Zwerschke, and Amelie Jakubek—gathered for a series of conversations about their individual and collective political consciousness. This discussion arose from challenges in finding common ground regarding the paper’s agenda on the Palestinian struggle and from a shared desire to align their values with the street newspaper’s role as a political publication. The following is an edited version of the second meeting, which, at the time of publication, had not yet resulted in an articulated change of agenda. Theresa, the newest member of the group, moderated the conversation.

Pauł Sochacki: We have a problem with a lack of knowledge in the articles that are pitched, particularly those about regions outside of Europe. It is important for us to publish beyond European concerns, but if the author is European and does not have more knowledge than what is written on Wikipedia about a particular area and its different dynamics, it results in a very shallow narrative.

María Inés Plaza Lazo: We are all fluctuating, as everything is, as we face the challenge of curating content that respects the complexities of different regions and cultures. Our role is not merely editorial; it is one of accountability. We do not claim to be political analysts, but we see AWC as a space where diverse voices and experiences converge, pushing us to move from discourse to meaningful action. The question is: how do we professionally manage these contradictions as a serious publication? Our responsibility as editors is to ensure that these narratives are treated with the care they deserve, recognising that each team member navigates their own moral compass. It is not about achieving perfect detachment; it is about fostering dialogue, grappling with tensions, and reflecting that in the work we publish. How can we process these contradictions before reaching any conclusions?

Theresa Zwerschke: How does AWC align with your personal political position?

Amelie Jakubek: The central question in my life has always been how to do the right thing in the world. Honoring this question is one of my main drives. In my political work as a teenager, I realised that political spheres in this system follow their own implicit rules that cannot cater to the diversity we actually have in society—they reward the loudest and the most visible. And those are the people who end up being represented. So far, we do not have knowledge on how to build resilient alternative structures, but I am interested in resilient infrastructure building, and this is also my agenda for AWC. All I see happening around me is the result of institutions that have been built on violent premises, and I want to dedicate my life to building alternatives. That is why I do not always place the greatest emphasis on timely reactions.

Pauł Sochacki: So, you are not focused on quickly responding to current political situations but would rather concentrate on creating solutions. I want to respond to that. As someone interested in economics, I think resilience—as Amelie mentioned—also requires substantial economic analysis. Particularly in Europe, where political modes are constantly shifting, the economy remains fueled by colonialism, which continues through extraction elsewhere. Since these political conditions are driven by economics, political change in Europe will take a long time. With Europe’s economic power is primarily built on value asymmetry—the different values this system attaches to different lives—it is essential to build structures that subvert Europe’s monopoly on value creation.

One other point I want to make in response to Maria’s assessment of us as a professional paper: there is no neutral ground. The contradictions, power tensions, and the influence of underlying power structures are material realities of our situation. As a newspaper, we can only address them on a case-by-case basis. Therefore, we need to prioritise people who are completely disadvantaged by these circumstances. In addition to raising public awareness, we must work to level out disadvantages in our choices and as much as possible within the structure we are building.

Theresa Zwerschke: I definitely agree with what Amelie said about building counter-infrastructures. I see this as my primary investment. For me, AWC is a platform that holds the potential to do so. It could become a counter-model to mainstream media. What I also appreciate is that AWC creates ruptures. I was reminded of the last launch at the office when Mario (one of our vendors) was filling up plastic bottles with sangria on the floor while the editor of Osmos magazine had a conversation with him. These micro-ruptures are essential; they don’t necessarily produce immediate solutions but provoke confrontations.

María Inés Plaza Lazo: It is important to answer the question directly: How does AWC align with my political position? For me, AWC must serve more than just my political perspective as a migrant in Europe. I often think about how to make AWC a tool for more effective grassroots democracy, or even how it could be utilised by a post-migrant party like Die Linke. However, I have also realised through my work with the team that AWC is not a personal project anymore—it’s about pluralism. This is a process of growth I have had to accept as an editor.

As a publication, we can create an institution that reflects the multiplicity of voices it serves. Institutions often seem like abstract constructs, but they are built by individuals who must recognise their own power. AWC can only become an influential institution if we, as its editors and contributors, acknowledge and take responsibility for our potential power. It is not enough to remain in the realm of discourse. Our task is to translate this responsibility into a more active, collective editorial practice that advocates for structural change.

Dalia Maini: I do not want to speak from an individualistic perspective because, for me, there is no politics as an individualist. My positionality is within and against cultural political institutions and forms of governance that we know. Therefore, I do not really worship anything—not even the idea of becoming a place of power for the sake of power. Maybe this is a bit of a nihilistic perspective on society, but it’s also joyful. We need to challenge institutions as much as we can until they cannot avoid hearing us, but not because we want to be heard by them; it’s because then they will understand that we can actually break them down. That’s why I’m a bit more confrontational in what I would like AWC to be.

It’s true that institutions are made by people, but they are often the same kind of people. For me, it is clear how institutions work: they create self-righteous urgency and internal pressure. They do not listen to the people; they fabricate and supervise what people need to think and how. AWC is an institution too, but more decentralised, yet still dependent on hierarchies and material conditions provided by reactionary parts of society. I would like to reach out to those within institutions who are disruptors, and that is also the role I take on in AWC. Can AWC hold the hands of the agitators and the educators? However, as long as we receive funding from reactionary parts of society, we cannot truly pursue a free form of information. That’s the truth, because we will always mediate and cater to the funders. I pointed this out in a piece we edited together: I was trying to focus on the complicity of cultural institutions and accused a certain public of being blindfolded, but at the same time, these are the people who give us money, so it was hard to push through my stance.

Theresa Zwerschke: What changes would need to occur—both structurally and content-wise? What role would you like to take in that process?

María Inés Plaza Lazo: I tend to think in broad terms rather than focussing on details. I’d like to create an overarching framework—a long-term plan that we can consistently refer back to. It would guide our editorial choices and help ensure that the people we collaborate with share our direction.

Amelie Jakubek: When we look at political fights, I would like to identify the people who are already building something alternative. Let these people speak together. I am not looking for individual voices; I want to find those who work collaboratively and have built something already. I want collective authorship. In this sense, I would like to feature Jewish people in Germany who are organising and finding solutions for their situation, while also standing in solidarity with Palestinians, as well as the Palestinian diaspora, who are working to make an impact. What kinds of structures are being built at this very moment? I am not solely interested in raising awareness about situations of brutal injustice; I am much more oriented toward solutions. However, I think both aspects are important within this newspaper. There should be a critical stance, along with proposals on how to change the situation.

Dalia Maini: For me, it is more important that AWC confronts and fills gaps—especially in times of censorship. We should inform but also steer the conversation, and of course, look at polarised positions—not for the sake of depolarising, but to disorganise the beliefs that fundamentally uphold the heteropatriarchal, racist, fascist, and capitalist regime we live in. It is essential that, in doing so, we uplift those who are most targeted in the struggle—this should be our main priority. I want to find ways to create a sense of care and security that empowers people to continue their fight. Given Germany’s obedience in submitting to the genocidal rule of Israel, it’s clear that Jewish communities are abandoned and guilt-washed by the very political forces that now enable Palestinian ethnic cleansing. The core issue with basing ethnic security on historical trauma, as seen in Germany, is that it empowers those in charge of providing security to center their narrative—sidelining and manipulating the lived experiences and perspectives of groups, such as Jews, whom they claim to protect. At the moment, Jews in Germany are tokenized to fulfill a white supremacist project, while Palestinians are being slaughtered. We need to address both the discursive and ideological levels, as well as the material level, where genocide is occurring. In this struggle to define perfect discursive positions, we do not do what is necessary. We should ask the question: who is actually polarising the positions? Which institutions are responsible for that?

María Inés Plaza Lazo: I do not want the paper to contribute to that polarising tone. We have to examine the political and economic interests of an elite that drives wars and agendas accordingly. I would like to explore artistic practices that can act as an exfoliation of fascist logics, where we are all seen as either black or white (to put it bluntly). Disadvantaged positions outside of their bubbles, such as those in academia, policy-making, or journalism, need to be represented in our paper. Those within these bubbles formulate their work according to a system they comfortably use and do not necessarily challenge. However, we also need those voices to create a balance—this is not intended as an antithesis to Dalia. We need to assess our capacities to engage with those voices as a group.

Dalia Maini: We definitely have a different level of trust in the capacity of the arts—specifically, in the ability of art to effect change. This pertains at least to the art systems I know, which often serve as a pure form of recreation for the masses and as masturbatory ideology for those who build these systems. Museums and cultural institutions, like art magazines, are recreational for the masses. For example, if you see people going to Gropiusbau on a Sunday—what is the impact of that?

María Inés Plaza Lazo: How fundamental is it that this kind of appreciation and reflection occurs in a form of non-work? And that this labor is produced by a group of people for others? For me, this is as relevant as a hospital, a school, or a pharmacy.

Dalia Maini: I don’t agree with that.

Pauł Sochacki: In the last 10–20 years, art institutions have become less vessels for showcasing investment objects and more aligned with discourse. While this discourse can still be very hermetic in some cases, it definitely attempts to describe the realities around it rather than barricading itself against those realities. However, these institutions are based in a country that has a full mandate for genocidal or extractivist politics, with every party aligned and no change in sight.

In light of these contradictions, we should adopt a methodological approach to examine the power relations in any given situation and always strive not to reproduce the perspective of power but to challenge it. Yet, even if we accurately determine a position that creates agency and perspective from a place of suppression, this does not necessarily mean that the position of power will disappear. This is why a certain abuse of power is inevitable. In some cases, we must witness the violent struggle against the institutions that hold our mandate.

The point of coming as an immigrant to Europe is also significant because there are many contradictions between immigrants living in core imperial countries and those populations that are not, particularly the local comprador class.¹ It is often the associates of the latter who are visible in arts and culture, rather than the immigrants themselves.

Amelie Jakubek: But in addition to the methodology of constantly assessing power relations in our position, in the position of our authors, and in the topics they address, what role should art play in the paper? Let’s consider that Dalia does not believe in art. Would you confirm this, Dalia?

Dalia Maini: It’s not that I don’t believe in art; I just don’t believe in how it is chosen and who chooses it.

Amelie Jakubek: We can also be a driving force in creating more opinions on how art should be chosen, how it should be displayed, and for whom. We should establish a clearer agenda on what we actually want to see. For me, currently being in a place where a lot of art is banned (in Egypt) and facing extreme cultural scarcity, I would argue that art is something that needs to be cultivated, cherished, and also criticised, but not questioned at its core. Personally, coming from a non-academic background that did not offer many perspectives, the museum provided me with hope and essential experiences that, although flawed, were important to me.

María Inés Plaza Lazo: I feel the same way about institutions, especially when my heart struggles with those working hard to preserve them in cities plagued by structural and daily violence, such as my hometown, Guayaquil.

Theresa Zwerschke: I would agree with Dalia that a certain mode of representational art lacks the potential to achieve anything beyond gaining acknowledgment within a self-perpetuating structure. I’m more interested in collective practices that go beyond individual representation—practices that call for change or are already enacting change. When it comes to funding, I think we should hijack funding and redistribute the money differently, which is what we are already doing with the distribution system.

María Inés Plaza Lazo: I disagree; we need to reinforce our trust in the process of our own institutionalisation because this is the kind of infiltration we’ve been pursuing since the beginning. I speak from experience working in two large institutions: no matter how good you are, if you are not in a position of power in the decision-making structure, the institution will do whatever it wants with your contributions.

However, the positions we seek, as in our last collaboration, exist within a very thin layer between the inside and outside of an institution, acting as a membrane. This allows for actual intervention, which is not as small as it might seem. Regarding our most recent issue, there seems to be a disassociation from it—a disappointment stemming from how the issue was produced. But despite that, this collaboration has already created an echo of how to use the institution differently, despite the compromises we encountered.

We will also have a learning curve in figuring out how to do this and achieve more power. We don’t have to fight for minor edits; we need to stand our ground. This position of power needs to be achieved.

Pauł Sochacki: We should be more specific about how we define power. There is financial power, and there is the power of popularity and opinion, as well as popular networks—which are also fragile and interdependent. Having power without financial backing, but with influence, is largely defined by collective moral authority, which is distinguished within a popular network and its long-term resilience.

Our outreach on the street is quite significant, but we don’t know exactly what people think about it. Our outreach on the internet is perhaps a bit more traceable. The people who donate and subscribe are still a relatively small group, but they are essentially what can grant us a certain independence. We need to become an increasingly reader-funded paper to gain stability and independence in what we do.

Perspective and agency are topics we will always come back to, and we have to consider how much we can have contributions from the Global South, which raises the question of how we represent those voices. We should clarify our goals and become more legible to people, so they understand what we subscribe to and what they are subscribing to with us.

Preliminary Analysis

At the heart of the tensions within AWC lies the competing visions of what the organisation should become and how it should navigate its political and cultural environment.

The following visions may stand in contradiction to one another:

• Centralisation vs. Decentralisation: A centralised institutional vision for AWC contrasts with a preference for a disempowered, decentralised organisation.

• Leadership vs. Democracy: The debate over the necessity of strong leadership versus maintaining a collective democratic decision-making process presents an organisational dilemma.

• Public Engagement vs. Autonomy: The conflict between pursuing public visibility and influence while maintaining financial and editorial autonomy is a key challenge.

• Disruption vs. Stability: Tensions between prioritizing disruption versus ensuring the long-term sustainability of AWC raise questions about the best path forward. But this tension also emerges on an editorial level.

• Strategic Funding vs. Financial Independence: Finding a balance between securing necessary resources and preserving the publication’s independence is another fundamental issue.

The internal conflicts within AWC highlight the challenges of balancing institutional ambition with decentralised activism, which is a problem for entities striving to be both influential and inclusive. 

The publication of this article forms part of an ongoing collaboration between UMBAU and Arts of the Working Class, a multi-lingual street journal on poverty and wealth, art and society, containing contributions by artists and thinkers from different fields and in different languages. https://artsoftheworkingclass.org

Footnotes

1. The “comprador class” refers to a local elite in colonial or economically dependent countries that collaborates closely with foreign powers or corporations. They benefit from this cooperation by facilitating access to local resources or markets, often at the expense of their own population and in favor of foreign interests. ↑