The Fantasy and Necessity of Solidarity

by Sarah Schulman

From award-winning writer Sarah Schulman, a longtime social activist and outspoken critic of the Israeli war on Gaza, comes a brilliant examination of the inherent psychological and social challenges to solidarity movements, and what that means for the future

For those who seek to combat injustice, solidarity with the oppressed is one of the highest ideals, yet it does not come without complication. In this searing yet uplifting book, award-winning writer and cultural critic Sarah Schulman delves into the intricate and often misunderstood concept of solidarity to provide a new vision for what it means to engage in this work—and why it matters.

To grapple with solidarity, Schulman writes, we must recognize its inherent fantasies. Those being oppressed dream of relief, that a bystander will intervene though it may not seem to be in their immediate interest to do so, and that the oppressor will be called out and punished. Those standing in solidarity with the oppressed are occluded by a different fantasy : that their intervention is effective, that it will not cost them, and that they will be rewarded with friendship and thanks. Neither is always the case, and yet in order to realize our full potential as human beings in relation with others, we must continue to pursue action towards these shared goals.

Within this framework, Schulman examines a range of case studies, from the fight for abortion rights in post-Franco Spain, to NYC’s AIDS activism in the 1990s, to the current wave of campus protest movements against Israel’s war on Gaza, and her own experience growing up as a queer female artist in male dominated culture industries. Drawing parallels between queer, Palestinian, feminist, and artistic struggles for justice, Schulman challenges the traditional notion of solidarity as a simple union of equals, arguing that in today’s world of globalized power structures, true solidarity requires the collaboration of bystanders and conflicted perpetrators with the excluded and oppressed. That action comes at a cost, and is not always effective. And yet without it we sentence ourselves to a world without progressive change towards visions of liberation.

By turns challenging, inspiring, pragmatic, and poetic, The Fantasy and Necessity of Solidarity provides a much-needed path for how we can work together to create a more just, more equitable present and future.

Genres: Politics, Nonfiction, Social Justice, History, LGBT, Psychology, Essays

320 pages, Hardcover

Published April 22, 2025

About the author

Sarah Schulman is a longtime AIDS and queer activist, and a cofounder of the MIX Festival and the ACT UP Oral History Project. She is a playwright and the author of seventeen books, including the novels The Mere Future, Shimmer, Rat Bohemia, After Delores, and People in Trouble, as well as nonfiction works such as The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination, My American History: Lesbian and Gay Life during the Reagan/Bush Years, Ties That Bind: Familial Homophobia and Its Consequences, and Stagestruck: Theater, AIDS, and the Marketing of Gay America. She is Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at The City University of New York, College of Staten Island.

Reviews

[Madeleine · Rating 5 out of 5]

it is a gift to be alive while sarah schulman is working. i'm awed by how she embodies the efforts for a morally consistent life across how she treats other people, her creative work, and her organizing. having been lucky enough to spend time learning from her irl over the past year, her consistency, curiosity, and commitment to artistic and political growth sets a stunning example, especially for younger queer people. many of the ideas she has thoughtfully championed during a time of genocide and global fascism are thoughtfully distilled here with clarity and urgency. in her nonfiction, i'm particularly struck by the value of a novelist and playwright composing nonfiction narrative. through her lens towards storytelling and understanding consequences/connections, schulman is able to successfully articulate systematic trends that shape how we create, connect, and take action.

[Morgan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Usually when books cover the topic of solidarity, it does so in more of a theoretical way. I really appreciated the way Schulman approaches it from the perspective of a seasoned activist who has both succeeded and failed in what it means to be in solidarity with others. Her examples span from her own personal life, her activism with Palestinian groups, Act Up, and her work with abortion access in post-Franco Spain. I was pleasantly surprised with the interview (near the end of the book) with Morgan M. Paige where they discuss disposability culture and suicidality in activist communities. Overall, I really enjoyed this book and I highly recommend checking it out.

[Jacob Wren · Rating 5 out of 5]

Some passages from The Fantasy and Necessity of Solidarity:


*


“Regardless of specificity, solidarity always requires awareness, self-criticism, consciousness, the decision to act, and the need to create strategy, to build alliances, and to listen. It always requires taking chances, making mistakes, and trying again.”


*


“The US entertainment industry is one of the last places a person can find solidarity.

Most corporate-produced culture is filled with terrible values, is blatantly retrograde or – at best – meaningless, which is its own politic. The product exists to make money for people who have fun solving intense but tightly focused problems. Its social function is to create individuals who can feed the need for fame, upon which American marketing depends. A friend once pointed out to me that America’s greatest exports are film/TV and weapons, and most of the highest-grossing films and TV glorifies violence in a way that serves as advertisement for weapons.

I am not the only person who reads incredible reviews for plays or movies or TV shows that turn out to be banal, repetitive, or nonsensical. Part of the problem is that print and online critical publications are tied to the marketplace. Critics mostly write about books or actors or writers or filmmakers who have a new product on the market right now, rather than works that the critic feels illuminate our current moment.

It occurs to me that most (not all) of these institutions that drive me crazy have historically and consistently excluded, watered down, or marginalized the more interesting and necessary ideas in any given period. Risky and exciting movements of forward-thinking people were usually debased or ignored, while avoidant or repetitive work was elevated and glorified, and then given awards. This system of repetition is reinforced psychologically by the creation and strict maintenance of a scarcity-based concept of an elite. If an artist or intellectual or activist or any combination thereof is looking for non-market-based support adequate to live safely and comfortably while following their gifts full-time, it’s literally a MacArthur or nothing. Repetitive ideas are selected by gatekeepers, elevated by critics, rewarded with prizes, and branded as good and important, when they are often actually stagnant. We have collectively underestimated the ultimate danger of that entrenched cycle. It turned out to be far more sinister than just boring, as corporate entertainment sells bad values about humans being expendable and worth destroying when compared to the risk of losing social status or influence with funders. Cultural producers should be joining the large numbers of people trying to stop this war on Gaza, but either being quiet or supporting the killing is actually consistent with the norm.”


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“What makes it so confusing is their embedded accompanying system of self-praise tell us repeatedly that the repetitive, banal ideas in mass circulation are special and deserve reward. Year after year we are told through many selections at elections, through promotions or even the Oscars, Tonys, Pulitzers, and the full range of intellectual and citizenship awards in corporate marketing venues, that irrelevant products deserve to be the focus of our attention and should be replicated. This reinforces the idea that the way things are is not only great, but the best. This merry-go-round debases and marginalizes risky, exciting movements of forward-thinking people while elevating and glorifying avoidant work that pretends away the most important questions of our time: Who has the power, and why?”


*


“It was a cultural moment that made white writers look in the mirror and wonder if we have been confusing it with a window.”


*

[Debbie Notkin]

Full disclosure: Sarah is my first cousin, though we are not close as adults. I often disagree with her writings, and at the same time I am always impressed by her intellect, her research, her writing ability, and her passion for justice. I was drawn to this book because of its title, something I am extremely interested in exploring.

Unfortunately, while the book is brilliantly researched, well written, and infused with that passion for justice, in the end it really doesn't examine solidarity. Rather, the bulk of the book is about genocide in Gaza, perpetrated by Israel (a position with which I thoroughly agree). The deep history of Israel's relation to the LGBTQ community is invaluable, and very rarely available.

Schulman regularly reaches through the topic of each chapter to point out moments of solidarity or behaviors which are in opposition to solidarity, but she doesn't examine what solidarity is and is not. She spends a good deal of the book profiling recent historical figures who embody solidarity (Wilmette Brown, Alice Neel, Jean Genet, and Carson McCullers). I knew little to nothing about most of them, and I found their stories valuable, but again the author and the readers have to reach through the story to find the key points about solidarity. Examples, both long and short, are great, but they aren't the same thing as analysis.

The last section of the book is a probing inquisition into a piece of the author's life. In the mid-2010s, she gave the eulogy at the memorial for a high-profile, well-loved New York City transwoman, who was a close friend of Schulman's. In consultation with other mourners, Schulman wrote and delivered a "political sermon," a deep analysis of why this woman -- and by extension transpeople -- committed suicide and the roles of suicidality, isolation, alcohol, and community in trans lives. This was apparently not the eulogy mourners were there to hear, and a fairly major internet controversy exploded. Instead of recounting much of this in detail, she reprints a long transcript of an event she did a year or so later with Canadian transwoman Morgan M. Page, in which both Schulman's speech and Page's more traditional eulogy are reprinted and then there is a deep and moving Q&A with the audience. I found it riveting, and I will think about it for a long time. Again it doesn't provide any guidance on what solidarity is and how we can think about it.

If this book was called "musings" or "My Thoughts on Palestine and LGBTQ community" or something like that, the reader might be more prepared. I'm really glad I read the book, and I'm still disappointed that she didn't turn her extraordinary intellect directly onto the topic she defined.

[Misha · Rating 5 out of 5]

I so appreciate Schulman's work and how she is still so open to learn from and with people in community and through conversation. I flagged so many pages while reading this book:

"The opposite of oppression is not only freedom but also belonging. It is the construction of a listening and acting body around the suffering person that creates a context for transformation. The standard wisdom is that we can't change other people, but other people change me all the time, for better and for worse. Both committing and allowing injustice imposes tragic change. Stopping or reducing it creates the paradigm shift, building the people power needed to realize the necessity of positive new beginnings." (3)

"First, I had already learned to question nationalism and patriotism precisely through the lens of my secular Jewish history and the alienation of my first-generation parents from American norms." (14)

"I learn from the oppressed, not the powerful, about how to define reality.
Second, my family was pathologically sexist and homophobic to a degree that was so poisonous, thorough, and punitive that I was forced to cohere a critical comprehension of the false loyalty systems families construct. After all, the family is often the first place a person experiences the pain of homophobia and sexism or, inversely, how to benefit from these oppressive systems." (17)

ACT Up as a formative activist and listening space which prompted Schulman to be open to learning about Palestinian oppression and the status quo narrative apparatus that prevented their deaths, like those with AIDS, from being recognized or valued (20)

"The bother of having to practice the politics of repetition required to raise consciousness about Palestine, the annoyance of being yelled at or slandered by supporters of the Israeli state, the fear of threats and accusations, censorship, or loss of income and opportunities, even the violence of the police or Zionist agitators, will never equal being mass-murdered or being surrounded by the death of our contexts." (47)
"Being in solidarity with Palestine means upholding an ethic of interactive, communicative engagement." (47)

"Ultimately the strategy is for people power to overwhelm corporate and state power, creating the conversations, campaigns, and debates that lead grassroots organizations to participate in the boycott and thereby change the tenor or public discourse and subsequently public values." (50)

"Forced motherhood is not enough for the newly empowered forces of regression. They want to punish women for asking for help, for being connected to others, for disobeying. Hopefully we will all soon be similarly accused." (60)

"The lesson I learned here, at the start of my adult life, was that creativity was the source of solidarity. Regardless of the obstacle or the frame, using the imagination to figure out how to take the risk was the only way forward." (73)

On criteria in academia and other contexts:
"We reward the kind of 'difference' that stays within boundaries while reinforcing our norms, and gatekeepers find this comfortable and in fact entertaining. But works that question our sense of ourselves as objective, neutral, or value-free are the works that gatekeepers reject. Because supremacy thinking is rooted in the deep-seated belief that the supreme is inherently objective. And turning that over is intolerable to people in power, who emotionally need to justify their status and access." (94-5)

"1. ACT UP was not a consensus-based movement. Their statement of unity, "Direct Action to end the AIDS crisis," emphasized direct action in contrast to social service provision. Basically, if someone had an idea that would move us closer to ending the AIDS crisis, they could do it." (120)

"My own study of history shows me that movements that try to force everyone into one analysis or one strategy always fail, and I can't find any historical exceptions. Trying to make people all agree on approaching the problem the same way is not effective, and this is because people are different and therefore can only be where they are at. It took me decades of therapy to accept this. But the fundamental truth is that people will always be different and therefore leadership is rooted in facilitating people being effective from where they are at." (121)

"This is why, throughout this volume, I maintain that the violent state destruction of Palestinian people in Gaza is related to the systematic under-education of the working class in New York City, to the imposition of mandatory motherhood through the denial of abortion rights, to the branding and enforcement of culture industry hierarchies. That all these oppressions that control individual and collective lives are imposed through false standards and fake claims of supremacy and superiority. And that we can see these structure of containment in the lives of women artists, just as we see them in congressional subpoenas and justifications for silence or even complicity. A witness has a distance of safety. A participant shares a vulnerability." (158)

After witnessing a French friend's son become a virulent racist:
"In our generation of post-1960s white progressives, we developed an understanding of ourselves as people with privileges that are unjustified, who--despite our desires to contribute to dismantling racism--have to be constantly vigilant and self-critical and open to other people's criticisms to limit the damage. And we are learning how to carry and integrate this information about ourselves, to act on it without being paralyzed by it. In Antoine's perspective, this way of thinking about one's white self is impossible. Multidimensionality equals fault. The idea of white people having to think about ourselves subjectively is something that feels to Antoine's cohort like an assault, instead of feeling enriching. It is an ideological battle between the wielding of complexity as a source of depth and complexity as a weapon of diminishment." (162)

On Carson McCullers:
"But McCullers remains the standard-bearer for white authors, and for almost twenty-five years now I have been on a journey to try to understand how she did it. Who does a white writer have to be in order to overcome the institutionalized ignorance in which we are trained and shrouded?" (210-11)

On people jumping to conclusions, assumptions:
"So, there was just this assumption that I had done something terrible on my own and all of that--this was to do with the book I've just written (Conflict Is Not Abuse), which is, How come people don't ask questions? Why do we just assume the worse? Why don't we just ask the person? You know, and part of it has to do with us not being in person with each other and I think that's one of the reasons we don't ask." (222)

From an audience discussion after a trans community member's suicide:
"Like, if a person made some political faux pas which no one is saying is a great thing--does that justify socially isolating them? I think this is one of the big problems we have in queer community. We pay a lot of lip service to prison abolition, but we don't actually internalize that in our own lives, other than outside violence, is social isolation. I work in social services, I've provided services for trans people for many years, and in every one of my funding applications the number one thing we're trying to reduce is social isolation, because when you're isolated you become hopeless, and you despair, and you also have no access to resources and people who care about you. In the queer and trans community unfortunately right now in this moment we have a tendency to, as Sarah says, catastrophize small conflicts, which, again, no one is saying there's no bad things happening, but often we're talking about very small conflicts and catastrophizing them and calling for their removal of this person from community spaces and saying, 'Oh, you can't come to this queer space anymore because you said something transmisogynistic and that was hurtful to us, so you're not allowed to come." (246)

"But being in solidarity means giving each other the approval and support, the insight and strength, the love--if you will--to continue to transform our relationships to status, safety, institutions, and the machinery of approval, whether from our families, our professions, the state, or the standards constantly fed us from corporate entertainment, which includes media. There is a kind of happiness that comes from trying to be a consistent person, and sometimes that is the only obtainable goal, to try. After all, there is a pleasure in thinking for yourself that, once it finds its home, becomes rejuvenating, fascinating, and life-giving." (267-8)

[Tia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very much agree with the content and message, but it suffers from bland writing and too much focus on the author herself or anecdotes about her famous artist friends and their experiences of social advocacy, rather than more potent examples of solidarity by everyday people or other historic grassroots movements. Also very little analysis—mostly just kind of telling stories and then having a quick paragraph at the end of a chapter to say like, “they faced backlash but stood up for X peoples anyways!” A number of great ideas and lines but felt a bit slapdash or underdeveloped. Even the chapters on the encampment movement focus way more on the reaction by right-wing politics and university admin instead of on the acts of mutual aid or community building or deep thinking about solidarity that took place and across these spaces.

[J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

You want to fight injustice? To truly stand with the oppressed and make a difference? Then you *need* Sarah Schulman's groundbreaking book. It's not just about good intentions; Schulman masterfully unravels the complexities and potential pitfalls of solidarity.

[Ty · Rating 5 out of 5]

A powerful and timely piece—sharp, grounded, and deeply resonant. Exactly the voice I needed in my ear this week.

[Robin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A practical guide to actual solidarity in ever-shifting circumstances. Valuable reading for anyone working to build the relationships that will support us in the future.

[andrea · Rating 5 out of 5]

thank you to PENGUIN GROUP Portfolio | Thesis and NetGalley for the advanced digital copy.

this one is out wherever books are sold.

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we have been blessed with another sarah schulman book! and there's no one i'd rather read a book on solidarity about other than her - with her long history of activism there are few humans more equipped to tell us opportunities that we can grow together as a society and how we can apply that new-found solidarity to our modern existence as witnesses of the genocide of palestinians perpetrated by israel.

i loved that this book delved into different scenarios where the existence of solidarity - or the lack thereof - changed the landscape of society. there's discussion of spanish women fleeing their countries to get abortions deemed illegal by their country and how, after they received a safe and effective procedure, they were unwilling to fight for others like them and so were a part of perpetuating the problems that they faced. there were discussions of pinkwashing from israel and how it gives a false sense of security/safety to queer people, when the unexplainable piece of the puzzle is why we're all meant to be complicit in the extermination of an entire people because an anti-lgbt country accuses them of being anti-lgbt. there's discussion about dareen tatour's poetry and poetry existing as an effective method of nonviolent resistance. sarah also writes more about ACT UP and of course about the alienation of trans and queer people resulting in a suicide epidemic.

ultimately, most of the world's problems can be solved by developing solidarity with one another. and sarah writes about how sometimes, the shape of solidarity is outside the lines of what is legal or utterly against status quo, but that we shouldn't keep those things from stopping us from doing what is right and we're all responsible for doing that.

[Shadib Bin · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Fantasy & Necessity of Solidarity by Sarah Schulman

I’m so glad I finally got around to reading this profound book. I first came to Sarah’s work through The Gentrification of the Mind—one of my all-time favorites—and this one sits right beside it.

The title says it all. Schulman writes with a central focus on how solidarity can show up for Palestinians, especially in the context of the war on Gaza waged by the Israeli government. The book carries particular weight given her own Jewish heritage, and how she has long wrestled with these themes, including in Conflict Is Not Abuse: Overstating Harm, Community Responsibility, and the Duty of Repair.

She moves through a wide range of people, essays, topics, and her own activism, always returning to the urgency of solidarity. What comes through most is her plea that we think for ourselves, outside the confines of mass media. She insists we center those who are not in the room, those for whom solidarity means everything, and she’s unflinching in showing that this often requires accepting some level of punishment. For Schulman, that price is not only worth paying—it’s essential if we want to live on the right side of history.

Schulman is one of those rare writers who can challenge you deeply while also expanding your sense of responsibility to others. Her words feel necessary in this moment of profound grief. This is a masterpiece I know I’ll keep returning to, again and again.

[Dane · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think this book did a lot of good encapsulating and describing some of the issues that we face in the midst of our time. I often find that older books and literature can be out of touch with the contemporary moment and have a hard time paving the way towards what genuine action looks like. I think this books suffers from a bit of that but also provided fresh insight simultaneously. I appreciate the stories but I think the tactics could’ve been fleshed out more. I agree w several reviews saying there were a lot of moments of self concern and just gassing up her achievements. She deserves the credit indeed, but I often felt like there was not really a good end goal to a lot of her musings. However, I do really appreciate her approach and especially like the sections talking about global solidarity and giving us a wide range of ideas of what solidarity looks like. It did inspire me to be more active and I have to learn to push my comfort zone in many ways. I really respect her and everything she has done for her communities and the world.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another thoughtful and compassionate book from Schulman. While this book was great, it did not feel quite as deep as some of her others, and frankly, could have been a long essay. I especially could have done without the next-to-last chapter that was a transcript of a "group conversation" that felt very tenuously connected to the rest of the book, and honestly, kind of felt like it was there to pad out the page count. Nevertheless, it's a small quibble, and if you have read Schulman's other books, you'll know what to expect here. I always finish her books feeling so much smarter and this was no exception.

[Lindsey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ever since I read Sarah Schulman’s oral history of ACT UP she has become one of my favorites, as a writer, an activist, and moral compass. There is a lot of brilliance in this book and so much wisdom and important reflection about activism and solidarity. Some of the newer insights (to me, I mean) are about production of artistic works as a form of knowledge and the ways in which art is so controlled by gatekeepers and as a result, this profoundly limits our collective imagination. The narrative felt a little clunky at times. Sometimes there were points I literally didn’t understand and wish she has elaborated more. That’s why I only gave 4 stars.

[Joe · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book felt less focused than the other two I've read by her (Conflict is Not Abuse and Let the Record Show). Nonetheless, the idea about not having criteria for solidarity (or schools) is on point I think and really helpful. I also liked the last section about Sarah's political eulogy, which really felt like an extension of Conflict is Not Abuse. It's a particularly clear example of some of the concepts from that previous book. Definitely recommended, but CiNA and LtRS are my first two recs of hers.

[Venneh · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fantastic book by a local AIDS history professor, who also coincidentally founded the Dyke March, that focuses on how to show solidarity, especially in the context of Palestine. She breaks down what happened at Northwestern University this last year (24 at the time of writing) with solidarity efforts with Palestine on campus and within the academic community. I will admit I had the breath taken out of me by the transcript from the community conversation around a eulogy and the differences of a political versus typical funeral, and was not expecting the degree of detail given re the suicide (and the point was to deter suicide, and point made, but fuck). Great book for our current moment.

[Barry · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just finished reading Sarah’s book. I’m very emotional right now and I can’t recommend it enough.