Lessons in courage, care and collective action from the international accompaniment movement

This article Lessons in courage, care and collective action from the international accompaniment movement was originally published by Waging Nonviolence.

As authoritarianism takes hold in the United States and attacks against our movements and communities grow, many U.S.-based organizers and activists are searching for ways to resist, grow and protect ourselves and our communities. Yet, a feeling of overwhelm and hopelessness pervades, especially as this administration deploys tactics aimed at repressing, intimidating and squashing those fighting for change.

Rather than despair, we can instead look at the ways movements across the world have responded to authoritarian regimes. After all, for as long as governments have used such tactics, movements, organizations, and individual organizers and activists have cultivated strategies to keep themselves and their communities safe.

International accompaniment is one such strategy. It was developed in Central America during the 1980s and ’90s in response to threats against human rights defenders, communities and activists at the height of the civil wars there. Recognizing the global power dynamics and unequal treatment across borders by state actors, international solidarity movements and accompaniment organizations emerged to provide a protective presence, using international volunteers to deter violence and support grassroots struggles for justice.

International accompaniment has been shown to reduce the risk of attack against human rights defenders due to the immediate shaming and intimidation invoked by the presence of a “high-status” outsider. This is further supported by the political pressure that comes with the accompanier being connected to an international network. By accompanying threatened activists, journalists, lawyers, community leaders and organizers in their day-to-day work — especially in high-risk situations — accompaniers can deter attacks and demonstrate solidarity with the human rights defender and their work.

The goal of accompaniment is to create greater space for local organizations and activists to do their peacebuilding, human rights and democracy defense work — not to replace those organizations or their work — such that the accompaniment will, eventually, no longer be necessary. The strategy continues today in countries such as Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras and Colombia, with many organizations carrying out the work, including Peace Brigades International, Network in Solidarity with the People of Guatemala, FOR Peace Presence, Witness for Peace and Nonviolent Peaceforce.

We worked for years within several of these accompaniment organizations, conducting security analysis, co-creating community security plans and fomenting internationalist solidarity movements. As many U.S. organizations grapple with what it means to organize for social justice under a fascist government — and face increased risk due to it — we believe that lessons from the international accompaniment movement can provide organizers in the U.S. with concrete tools and inspiration for navigating today’s challenges. 


Resisting state repression


Authoritarian states use a variety of tactics to silence dissent. Some of these tactics may also be deployed by armed non-state actors operating alongside state actors. These include intimidation tactics, like anonymous threats or physically tailing someone, as well as attempts to silence activists, organizers or journalists, such as through specious criminal prosecution.

These tactics work to intimidate and silence in part because they weaponize our imagination and suck our time, energy and resources into responding — even if the threats aren’t carried out or the prosecution gets thrown out. State and nonstate aggressors often ramp up these tactics with stigmatization to divide and weaken social movements and the social fabrics that sustain them. A key way states do this is through the use of narratives that distinguish “good” and “bad” organizations, activists and defenders. By selectively supporting certain groups, states sow distrust and fracture collective power, ultimately undermining the solidarity that movements depend on to resist repression and build alternatives.

While observing and analyzing state repression strategies is an important first step in protecting ourselves, our communities, and our loved ones, we must also construct our own strategies to fight for change, being clear and intentional about the risks we take on and the resources we must cultivate to keep going for the long haul.

In our years of working with community leaders and human rights defenders targeted by state-sanctioned violence, we have seen firsthand the success of the following strategies for confronting states’ repression tactics.

1. Accompaniment. This is a powerful and proven strategy in and of itself. It serves as a deterrent — sending a clear message to potential aggressors that those being accompanied are not alone, and that the eyes of the world are watching. It also importantly fosters deep, lasting relationships rooted in solidarity, principled action, and a shared commitment to justice. Beyond protection, accompaniment is about walking alongside movements, building trust and reinforcing the collective strength needed to challenge oppression and build a better world.

Accompaniment can — and is being adapted to — fit the current U.S. context. In some cities, for example, networks are being organized to accompany people to check-ins with ICE. Seattle took things a step further, turning its volunteer-run network into a registered organization. Such support is all the more critical in a moment when ICE is ramping up detentions at immigration courts.

2. Risk analysis. This strategy allows us to take calculated risks. Each of us has a different threshold for the kinds of risks we’re willing to take in order to continue the work we believe in. When we understand the potential risks involved in a particular action, we’re better equipped to make informed decisions about whether to proceed, how to proceed and what strategies to put in place.

There’s no one-size-fits-all formula for risk assessment or the “most effective” security strategy; these processes are not objective or purely technical, but are shaped by our lived experiences, identities and contexts. By listening to diverse perspectives, we can challenge our blind spots, broaden our understanding and develop more thoughtful, effective strategies that reflect the realities of everyone involved. That’s why collective analysis within our organizations, families and communities is essential.

For example, one international accompaniment organization has its security team set aside a whole day each week dedicated to context and risk analysis across all the regions where it operates. While this level of commitment may not be sustainable for all organizations, it does highlight the importance of intentionally building risk analysis into existing meeting structures so that it becomes a consistent and embedded part of organizational practice.

3. Digital security. Trusting third parties with our information has become second nature, but it’s a risky habit. When the state wants access to our data, it often doesn’t need to hack or infiltrate. Judicial warrants compel companies like Google, WhatsApp and Telegram to hand over information without much resistance — something that becomes even easier when the state is also using criminalization tactics. If we’re serious about protecting ourselves and our movements, we must rethink what information we store, publish and entrust to these platforms.

Digital security isn’t about trusting a company’s promises of encryption — it’s about taking encryption into our own hands. That means using local encryption mechanisms on our computers, phones and cloud services, rather than relying on third-party tools. Resources like Security in a Box offer practical guides to help make these shifts.

Digital security isn’t just a technical step; it’s part of sustaining our collective resistance. Protecting our communications is protecting our movements — and our ability to dream, strategize and build together. In the accompaniment organizations where we have worked, digital security includes leaving cell phones outside of meeting rooms, ensuring that information is stored on internal servers instead of relying on a cloud system, and only sending digital information over encrypted channels.

4. Care for our hearts as well as our bodies. Adrenaline is addictive, but it’s not sustainable. If we’re in this for the long haul (and we are), we need to resist the urge to stay in constant activation mode. This struggle won’t be over in a few months, and many of us have already seen how burnout and exhaustion can erode our capacity to keep organizing for transformative change. Just as we must be able to “turn on” and mobilize our networks in moments of urgency, we must also be able to “turn off” — to rest, recover and replenish. This is where a psychosocial approach becomes crucial, as exemplified by the work of Aluna in Mexico, which integrates emotional and collective care into long-term strategies.

Sustainable emergency response must include care practices, role rotation and the humility to recognize when we’re not in a place to make decisions for the collective. Caring for ourselves and each other isn’t separate from the struggle — it’s what makes it possible.

5. Create organizational emergency response structures. For many international accompaniment organizations, being available 24/7 is a cornerstone of what it means to truly support human rights defenders and activists facing targeted threats. After over 10 years of doing this work, we’ve seen firsthand that emergency response is not just a reactive measure, it’s a vital part of any holistic security strategy. And like any other skill, it requires practice, intention and constant refinement. Emergency response is not just a skill — it’s a shared responsibility, especially in the context of resisting authoritarian governments.

Many international accompaniment organizations have developed 24/7 emergency hotlines and rotating on-call structures to ensure someone is always available to respond. This emergency number is shared with accompaniment organizations, ensuring that if someone calls or writes, they receive an immediate response — typically within minutes. These systems also provide real-time monitoring during travel or public events, enabling quick reaction if something goes wrong. This may be a more robust system than your organization needs or can set up, but the key is to analyze the risks and set up a system that can respond quickly and effectively.

This kind of preparedness allows for rapid reaction in times of crisis, helps mitigate the impact of violence, and reflects years of reflection and planning to make these systems sustainable. Of course, building such robust infrastructure might be out of reach for many smaller or volunteer-run organizations. But the principal objective — creating systems and community agreements to handle emergency response — can and should be adapted to your own context. Create flexible emergency response structures that allow your team to react quickly and pivot when surprises arise. Ask yourselves: Who responds in these situations? Who makes decisions about contacting external allies, media or authorities? Who needs to be consulted, and who has the final word?

6. Share the responsibility for decision-making in emergency situations. Train multiple people for this role and rotate regularly. Even if you’re the one on call, you don’t need to carry the burden of decision-making alone. Clarify in advance who can be contacted for support, have conversations ahead of time about who can step in and rotate these roles intentionally.

It’s also essential to remember that there’s no perfect way to respond to an emergency. These moments often activate our trauma responses, and so we may not react the way we would have wanted to. Carrying that alone can lead to guilt, burnout and, eventually, people walking away. Lean on each other. Debrief. Support each other afterward.

In many accompaniment organizations, the 24-hour emergency response role is tied to a phone that rotates between trained volunteers, ensuring that no one is on call for more than 24 hours at a time and allowing for moments of rest between shifts. Since the person on call is responsible for coordinating all aspects of the emergency response, the role can become emotionally and mentally exhausting, especially if multiple emergencies arise in a week. Rotating this responsibility helps distribute the weight of decision-making and care, reinforcing that no one carries it alone.

7. Practice scenarios. We can’t prepare for every possible crisis, but we can prepare for some. Identify the threats that are most likely to occur and those that would have the most significant impact, and then build scenarios around them, train for them and have open conversations about how you would respond. Then plan for the unexpected, because the unexpected is to be expected.

One way to prepare is through role plays. Picture this: You’re at a public event and someone shows up armed, trying to intimidate. Who’s going to respond first? How will they try to de-escalate the situation? Who do we need to alert, and what does that alert look like — a phone call, a signal, a message? Who’s the first person likely to arrive to help?

In one of the accompaniment organizations where we both worked, new staff and volunteers go through weeks of training followed by intensive role-play scenarios. Doing so allows them to expand their ability to respond in the moment and understand their own (and their team members’) instinctive tendencies, whether that’s fight, flight, freeze or fawn, allowing teams to come up with strategies that respond to each individual’s responses to crisis scenarios.

Emergency situations heighten tension — and conflict. You’ve probably seen it before: Tight timelines, high stress and deep concern can make us short-tempered and less patient with each other. That’s a reality, so rather than ignore it, normalize it. Take time beforehand to reflect on how everyone in your team tends to respond under stress. Try to recognize in the moment when tensions are rising and name it. Then prioritize holding space to debrief afterward.

8. Align security practices with your values. How we respond to security incidents is — or should be — deeply tied to our organizational and personal values. Whether we operate horizontally, make decisions by consensus, or choose to engage (or not engage) with state forces like the police or private security are all choices that reflect our principles. Aligning our security responses with our values ensures that even in moments of crisis we strengthen our collective integrity and cohesion. When our actions are rooted in our shared commitments, we’re more likely to emerge from emergencies united and resilient, ready to keep building power together rather than being fractured by the fallout.

A Colombian community we have both worked with refuses to cooperate with state actors due to a history of state-sanctioned violence, and so has designed alternative emergency response systems that don’t involve calling the police or other authorities. Instead, they might activate internal support networks, call trusted allies, or rely on rapid response teams made up of community members and accompaniers. Their emergency protocols are rooted in self-determination and collective care, reflecting a deep commitment to autonomy and safety on their own terms.

Playfulness and humor are essential tools for resilience and resistance. Though the old adage “laugh so you don’t cry” ignores that crying can be a useful and important release, it still holds wisdom: Laughter and fun give us lightness and relief from the heaviness of increasing attacks on the people and places we love.

Communities and organizations we have accompanied in Latin America depend heavily on dark humor to undercut the psychological power of fear and intimidation. Dancing and games also remind them about the things in life worth fighting for. One rural community in Colombia, for example, organizes regular soccer tournaments for children and teenagers (with adults often joining in). They bring together the entire community to laugh and share an afternoon together, not just as recreation, but as a joyful strategy to resist the recruitment of youth by paramilitary groups. Elsewhere, grassroots organizations host backyard barbecues, inviting entire families to spend relaxed afternoons together. Even in the midst of crisis, these gatherings become spaces of connection, celebration and quiet defiance against isolation and fear.

Lean into collective wisdom

In a recent episode of her podcast, “Movement Memos,” organizer Kelly Hayes said, “Submission is not safety, and acts of refusal will be increasingly important in the days ahead.” As repression intensifies, our response must be more than just defense — it must be deeply rooted in courage, in collective care and in an unwavering commitment to each other.

This is a moment to lean into the collective wisdom that has carried movements through generations — from Black communities organizing against white supremacy in the U.S. to Indigenous and campesino struggles confronting authoritarianism and state sanctioned violence across the Americas. The strategies exist, so let’s listen. The call to keep ourselves safe is not a call to shrink back or do less. It’s a call to organize offensively — to deepen our strategies, sharpen our political clarity and continue caring for one another with intention and resolve. Because if our safety planning doesn’t include collective joy, mutual support and a vision for liberation, then what kind of world are we actually trying to build?

While we were at Peace Brigades International, we would often say: Hopefully, one day, we’ll work ourselves out of a job. Hopefully, we’ll no longer need accompaniment organizations, or have to constantly think about our individual and collective safety. We’ll be able to use that energy for other things — dancing, community barbecues and playing with our kids in the park. But until that day comes, the work remains necessary. So let’s do it with rigor. Let’s do it in alignment with our values. And let’s remember: We’re not doing this so our organizations survive fascism — we’re doing it so we, and our communities, can live fully and freely.

This article Lessons in courage, care and collective action from the international accompaniment movement was originally published by Waging Nonviolence.

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Source: https://wagingnonviolence.org/2025/06/lessons-in-courage-care-and-collective-action-from-the-international-accompaniment-movement/