Silvia Federici, Re-enchanting the World: Feminism and the Politics of the Commons
In Silvia Federici’s work, the relationship between capitalism and gender-based violence is understood as a structural and historically situated one, which intensified particularly from the 1970s onward with the expansion of globalization processes and the neoliberal restructuring of the world economy. From this perspective, the increase in violence against women is not viewed as a contingent or merely cultural phenomenon, but rather as an integral component of capitalist accumulation and social control. Federici further argues that these transformations have generated new forms of repression that can be interpreted as contemporary re-enactments of the “witch hunts,” especially in Latin America, where feminist and community-based movements are often at the forefront of struggles against extractivism, land privatization, and authoritarian regimes. In these contexts, violence is also exercised through paramilitary apparatuses and the criminalization of practices aimed at defending territories and communal resources.
Within this theoretical framework, Federici proposes a materialist reading of feminism, in opposition to psychological or individualizing interpretations of violence and subjectivity. Her analysis focuses on the material conditions of social reproduction, highlighting how forms of gender oppression are deeply connected to processes of production and to the profit-maximizing logic characteristic of contemporary capitalism. In this sense, violence cannot be separated from the economic organization of society; rather, it constitutes one of its foundational elements.
A central aspect of Federici’s thought concerns the theory and practice of the commons, understood not simply as the shared management of resources, but as an alternative political and social principle to the logics of both the market and the state. The commons are conceived as forms of collective organization grounded in self-governance, cooperation, and shared responsibility in the access to and management of essential resources. From this perspective, they stand in opposition both to neoliberal processes of privatization and to the identity-based or authoritarian tendencies that may characterize certain populist interpretations of the “common good” understood in exclusionary or conservative terms.
Federici also insists that commons emerge historically as responses to globalization processes that have progressively dismantled or rendered invisible pre-existing forms of community organization. In this sense, commoning is not an entirely new invention but often represents the reactivation or reworking of already existing communal practices that have been undermined by capitalist dispossession. Since the 1980s, new forms of commons have proliferated across different global contexts, particularly in the Global South. Scholars and activists such as Vandana Shiva have highlighted the central role of women in defending the commons, especially in relation to agriculture, natural resources, and food sovereignty.
In Latin America, these practices often take the form of concrete reorganizations of social reproduction through collective kitchens, urban gardens, mutual aid spaces, and initiatives dedicated to the reconstruction of historical memory, particularly in contexts marked by political violence and dictatorship. In such cases, the production of collective memory is not merely an act of testimony; it becomes a form of political infrastructure capable of strengthening social cohesion and enhancing communities’ capacity to respond to ongoing challenges.
A central element of Federici’s reflection is the notion of the socialization of care, through which the traditional separation between the sphere of political protest and that of the everyday reproduction of life is overcome. From this perspective, politics is not confined to the space of public mobilization but emerges directly from the daily practices of social reproduction. The commons thus become the site where this distinction is progressively dissolved, transforming care into an inherently political and collective practice.
At the same time, Federici also highlights the ambivalent nature of commoning processes. Not all forms of community organization necessarily produce social transformation; some may be absorbed or “captured” by capitalist logics, ultimately reproducing forms of precarization and adaptation to market-imposed conditions. For this reason, the commons cannot be understood as automatically emancipatory practices but require constant attention to the material and political conditions within which they develop.
Finally, the commons are interpreted as processes through which rights and fundamental needs are redefined on the basis of the concrete experiences and demands of communities. They do not correspond either to top-down institutional models or to individualistic forms of neoliberal self-organization. Rather, they represent situated attempts to collectively redefine the conditions of social life, opening spaces of negotiation between community practices and institutional structures. In this sense, Federici’s work provides a theoretical framework in which care, social reproduction, and the commons are intertwined as constitutive elements of a possible transformation of contemporary forms of life.
Founded in Chicago in 1889 by Jane Addams and Ellen Gates Starr, Hull House represents one of the most significant experiments in urban social reform and innovation in community-based intervention practices between the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Located in the Near West Side neighborhood, within a context marked by rapid industrialization, mass immigration, and widespread material precarity, Hull House emerged as a response to the profound inequalities generated by the American industrial city and by the absence of structured public welfare systems.
Unlike traditional forms of charitable assistance, Hull House was inspired by the settlement house model, based on cohabitation. Social reformers did not operate from outside the community; instead, they chose to live within working-class neighborhoods, sharing everyday spaces with local residents. This approach implied a radical rethinking of the relationship between those who provided assistance and those who received it, fostering proximity, interaction, and mutual learning. Within this framework, social practice was understood not as one-way charity but as the shared construction of community ties and as a daily exercise in democracy.
The activities of Hull House were extensive and diverse, including educational, cultural, and social services such as English-language courses for immigrants, adult education programs, childcare services including nurseries and kindergartens, artistic and theatrical activities, as well as health support and legal assistance. This emphasis on cultural and creative dimensions reflected the belief that access to education and artistic expression constituted essential components of citizenship and social cohesion.
From a theoretical perspective, Hull House was grounded in an understanding of poverty and social exclusion as structural phenomena linked to the transformations of industrial capitalism rather than to individual deficiencies. Within this framework, social intervention assumed a political and transformative role, functioning as an experiment in new forms of urban life and democratic participation.
A central aspect of the Hull House experience was the role of women reformers and the redefinition of care as a public practice. In particular, Jane Addams, a leading figure of what became known as social feminism, contributed to moving care from the private and domestic sphere into the public and institutional realm, transforming it into a tool for social intervention and democratic development. In this sense, Hull House can be understood as a space in which care was politicized and reinterpreted as a form of active citizenship.
Alongside this innovative interpretation, contemporary critical scholarship has highlighted several important ambivalences within the Hull House project. In particular, Hull House was led by white middle- and upper-middle-class women, while the individuals participating in its programs were predominantly poor immigrants from Southern and Eastern Europe. This configuration produced a structurally asymmetrical relationship in which the practice of cohabitation did not entirely eliminate existing class and racial hierarchies.
Moreover, several studies have pointed to the presence of assimilationist dynamics, as the educational and language programs promoted by Hull House also contributed to processes of Americanization, encouraging immigrant populations to adopt the cultural norms of the white Protestant middle class. In this sense, the project can also be interpreted as a form of progressive reformism operating within dominant social and cultural frameworks rather than as a radical challenge to them.
A further critique concerns the implicitly disciplinary dimension of certain practices, which, while promoting emancipation and access to resources, also contributed to the regulation of behavior and the social normalization of immigrant populations. These elements reveal how Hull House existed within a constant tension between emancipation and social control.
Despite these ambivalences, Hull House remains a key reference point in the history of community care practices and social work. It contributed significantly to redefining the relationship between urban space, education, care, and democratic participation. Its contemporary relevance lies precisely in its ability to demonstrate how community care practices are always situated within relations of power, and how the construction of social bonds cannot be separated from the material, cultural, and political conditions that shape them.
Colectivo Solecito de Veracruz
The Colectivo Solecito de Veracruz is a social movement that emerged in Mexico in 2014 within the broader context of the crisis of the desaparecidos—a phenomenon linked to narcotrafficking violence, the militarization of territories, and the widespread complicity or ineffectiveness of state institutions. The collective was founded in the state of Veracruz, one of the regions most severely affected by enforced disappearances, where thousands of people have gone missing without adequate judicial or investigative responses from the authorities.
The movement emerged as a grassroots response to the absence of institutional justice. Faced with the state’s failure to provide effective answers, the families of disappeared persons—particularly mothers and close relatives—began organizing independently to search for their loved ones. This dynamic marks a crucial shift: those affected by violence are no longer merely passive victims but become political and social actors who take on the tasks of searching, denouncing injustice, and preserving memory.
One of the defining features of Colectivo Solecito is its practice of field research. Families organize expeditions into rural and peripheral areas, often under dangerous conditions, to locate possible clandestine graves and gather clues regarding the fate of the disappeared. This work, both highly dangerous and emotionally demanding, represents a form of self-organized justice in the absence of a functioning state. At the same time, the collective builds informal archives of memory, collecting names, photographs, and stories of missing persons. In this context, memory is not a static commemorative act but an active process of resistance and affirmation of the victims’ existence against their social and political erasure.
Alongside its work of search and remembrance, Colectivo Solecito also performs a crucial function of emotional and social support. The collective serves as a space of mutual aid among families who share the experience of ambiguous and unresolved loss. In this sense, care is not merely individual but becomes socialized: grief is shared, collectively processed, and transformed into a form of political solidarity. This relational dimension is essential for understanding the movement not only as an actor of public denunciation but also as a community infrastructure of support.
The collective also engages in political advocacy and public awareness campaigns, organizing protests, marches, and initiatives aimed at denouncing state inaction and demanding official investigations. In some cases, it collaborates with international organizations to increase visibility around the crisis of the disappeared and to exert greater pressure on Mexican institutions.
From a theoretical perspective, Colectivo Solecito can be interpreted as a contemporary form of “commoning memory and justice.” Drawing on feminist and materialist approaches to social reproduction, such as those developed by Silvia Federici, the collective demonstrates how practices of care, mourning, and memory can become collective political infrastructures. The search for bodies, the construction of archives, and the sharing of grief are not merely emotional responses to violence; they become forms of social organization that generate community bonds and new forms of political subjectivity.
José Esteban Muñoz, Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity (2009)
The 2015 Netflix series Sense8, created by the Wachowski sisters, offers a powerful lens through which to reinterpret the concept of community care through the categories of radical empathy, collective imagination, and the construction of shared futures.
At the core of the series is a cluster of individuals from different geographical, cultural, and social backgrounds who develop a radical empathic connection capable of transcending the barriers of individualism. Their ability to share emotions, perceptions, memories, and vulnerabilities creates a form of community founded not on homogeneity but on difference and interdependence.
Through science fiction, the Wachowskis depict empathy as a rare quality in a corrupted and threatened world—almost a superpower.
The series is deeply influenced by contemporary queer theory, particularly by the work of José Esteban Muñoz in Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity. Muñoz conceives queerness as an orientation toward futures that have not yet been realized—a utopian possibility capable of imagining worlds beyond the existing social order. His well-known statement that “queerness is not yet here” suggests that queer and radical communities are not merely existing social identities but ongoing processes of world-making. In this sense, the utopian dimension is not an escape from reality but a concrete practice of political and affective imagination.
In Sense8, moments such as Lito’s coming-out speech at São Paulo Pride, the collective musical sequences, and the scenes of emotional sharing within the cluster function as genuine utopian practices. Community is constituted through shared affective experiences, collective rituals, public celebrations, and practices of mutual visibility. The series demonstrates how joy, pleasure, and celebration can become political tools for community-building.
Muñoz argues that hope, desire, and pleasure are fundamental components of queer and communal practices because they allow individuals to resist the neoliberal logic of isolation, competition, and guilt. The characters in Sense8 do not become strong despite their vulnerability, but precisely through sharing it. Care emerges as a relational and reciprocal process: members of the cluster survive because they learn to depend on one another, pooling skills, emotions, and memories.
Author: Francesca Cannone
