Aliya Hemani- Abolition Democracy 

Abolition Democracy, one of Angela Davis's seminal contributions to feminist, abolitionist discourse, provides powerful and compelling frameworks for approaching the dissolution of slavery, the death penalty, and the carceral system. In her work, Davis adopts a critical approach to violence, defining it as both inherently institutionalized and intersectional. Conceptualizing violence in this way creates space for Davis to account for, and subsequently reject, the disproportional number of people of colour and women-that is, individuals that exist at the intersection of oppressions-within the penal system. In doing so, Davis suggests that herd complicity has led to the inevitability and desirability of violent structures, solidifying their naturalization within democratic society. In drawing out these themes and relying on the useful language provided by Davis, I argue that these structures, as they exist in our society, serve only to undermine the very notions of democracy and political freedom to which we are so greatly attached.

Carceral feminism, unobscured in its most simplified form, refers to a reliance on policing and imprisonment as a means to reduce and prevent gender-based violence. From this initial theory, a few key notions follow. First, carceral feminism, through anti-rape activism, has demanded long sentences for perpetrators of sexual or gendered violence. In this sense, carceral feminism argues that incarceration is a means by which society can demonstrate the severity of these types of transgressions. However, by relying on state structures such as prisons, carceral feminism has allowed for, if not encouraged, the promotion of violence through these very structures themselves. Ignoring how and why targeted communities are made unsafe by prisons-the institutions that we have long depended on to perform the exact opposite function-carceral feminism has upheld the binaries of good and bad; victim and offender. In turn, these rigid binaries, both alone and in relation to one another, foster the notion that those who are incarcerated deserve the violence that they are likely to be subjected to during imprisonment. Insofar as carceral feminism has this effect, Davis implores the reader to ask themselves who exactly is being punished by these dynamics, and who, in turn, benefits at their expense.

Borrowing from W.E.B Du Bois, Davis discerns a link between the Prison-Industrial-Complex (PIC)-the shared interest of industry and state in incarceration, resulting in the rapid proliferation of private prisons-and slavery. Drawing out the relationship between the two, Davis explains that when slave laws were abolished, freed black men were forced to become"indentured servants," by way of criminal punishment (8). These men, once incarcerated, were commodified as their labour was exploited for the purpose of profit. With the increase of prison privatization, particularly in the United States, we see this extenuation of slavery manifest tenfold. While Davis and abolitionist scholars explain such concepts with far less brevity, in short, the prison system, as one of the most "lucrative mechanisms" (Davis 9) of exploitation, can-and moreover should-be contextualized in light of its relationship to slavery.

Jones and Whynacht have furthered this argument, demonstrating how the state effectively brands racialized persons as 'criminal' by way of policing their bodies. By inciting and entrenching a widespread sense of fear, the state has deemed certain bodies, particularly black and brown bodies, as dangerous and in need of control, vis a vis the carceral system (Jones & Whynacht 145). As Davis notes, at a high level, individuals tend to tolerate a highly punitive society, one that depends heavily on incarceration as a means of dealing with crime, specifically because punishment is projected upon black and brown bodies and not 'ours.' 'Ours' refers to white norms and bodies, suggesting that the carceral system both depends on, and further crystalizes the racial contract, in which racialized people are labelled as inferior, both relative to those at the top of the racial hierarchy, and in and of themselves.

As Dean Spade threads out, the PIC, to which Davis repeatedly refers, indicates that the disproportionate incarceration of these communities arises as a result of the multi-vector system that takes racialized and gendered populations to be the target of imprisonment (3). The system seldom considers intersectionality, nor the systemic conditions that crater certain communities and render them subjects of violence and incarceration. In rejecting legislation as the primary means for social change, Spade bolsters Davis's call for both abolition democracy and the dismissal of less radical solutions. Insofar as interlocking systems of oppression lead to the labelling of certain populations as 'criminal,' abolition democracy necessitates the eradication of all institutions and social relationships that seek to "advance the dominance of any one group over any other" (Davis 15), intentionally or otherwise. In this regard, abolitionist politics are comprised of a wide range of activities, including the prevention of new prison construction coupled by an overhaul of the criminal justice system, the implementation of transformative justice practices, the shifting of drug addiction and mental health vulnerability from criminalized to public health arenas, and the redistribution of health, education, and housing resources prompted by the need for social equity and responsibility. Inherent to all of these activities is the inclusion, guidance, and centering of those with lived experience whom exist at the forefront of oppression.

In translating the above theory into contemporary praxis, Davis is careful to acknowledge the difficult political conditions that exist today, compared to the early days of her organizing in the 1970s. Davis endows the reader with a number of pressing and crucial insights that may prove useful for those seeking social, political, or legal transformations. Firstly, Davis warns against mobilization-particularly a dependence on mass demonstration-as the primary means for change, insofar as this has the potential to displace strategic, effective organizing and intervention. In thinking critically about what it means to organize today, Davis impels activists to ensure that ongoing movements "render visible" (131) the scope of individuals that are affected by the call for justice. Particularly, Davis highlights the significance of drawing upon collective struggle in order to take up political alliances with those who also exist, albeit perhaps for different reasons, at the intersection of multiple, interlocking oppressions. This includes, for example, racialized people, migrants, and Indigenous communities. In reflecting on what this may look like in practice, Davis promotes experimenting a 'trial and error' methodology in an effort to produce new and valuable forms of resistance.

In the context of twenty-first century organizing in response to today's issues, particularly in developed countries such as Canada and the United States, Davis invites individuals to consider how technological advents, such as cell phones and the internet, might best be used. However, Davis cautions against our desire or expectation to engage in "instantaneous movements" (132) that gain traction only for a short period of time, encouraging us to insist on the longevity and continuity of our work so that we are able to compel governments and corporations to curtail violence.

In closing, I find it necessary to highlight a particularly valuable component of Davis's approach, one that is sorely lacking from the vast majority of political work: the acknowledgement that feminist, democratic ideals, insofar as they exist in North American society, are not necessarily superior, nor definitive. Capitalism, given its indisputable pervasiveness, is often regarded as the inevitable ideological destination of all societies. Despite the prominence (not to be mistaken with viability) of capitalist structures, it is becoming increasingly evident that the ideology lacks the ability and endurance to sustain society, or itself, in the years to come. Davis calls upon us to then consider alternative frameworks through which we can locate ourselves, even if they require us to reconsider and alter the structures we are currently entrenched in. After all, several of the structures (and their attendant social implications), that we have accepted as inherent to our society lie at the very centre of the oppressions that Davis rejects.

In her eloquent, yet no less radical discussion of abolition, Davis demonstrates how prison abolition (particularly in the context of the United States, though analogous claims can be made elsewhere), is the most viable means to achieving substantive equality. In rejecting that which can only be best described as an extenuation of slavery and indentured labour, Davis calls upon us to question the institutions that have served to undermine the very underpinnings of democracy. What might be the consequences of our failure to do so? The indefinite perpetuation of state-sponsored violence. Then, only once we begin to interrogate the ways in which our preconceived notions of punishment have led to a multiplicity of violence, oppression, and subordination, can we truly begin to construct something different.

Works Cited

Davis, Angela Y. Abolition Democracy. Seven Stories, 2005.

Jones, El, and Ardath Whynacht. "Tender Places: On the Intersection of Anti-Rape Activism and Prison Abolitionism." Dis/Consent: Perspectives on Sexual Consent and Sexual Violence, 2019, pp. 142-154.

Spade, Dean. "Introduction: Rights, Movements, and Critical Trans Politics ." Normal Life: Administrative Violence, Critical Trans Politics, and the Limits of Law, Duke University Press, 2015, pp. 1-19.