The democratic socialists packed into a dive bar on Chicago’s South Side were in a bubbly mood after the first day of their national summit. Hayley Banyai-Becker, a 31-year-old from Portland, Ore., stood on a chair to rally fellow members of the Democratic Socialists of America to stay on “the front lines of class struggle.”
But there was a problem: None of them could hear her.
“Did they just turn the music up?” Ms. Banyai-Becker called out, over the thump of angry rock.
“Scream louder!” a D.S.A. member said.
“Should we go up one by one and tell them to turn the music down?” asked another.
“Let’s organize!” said a third.
“We’re going to resume after we talk to the owner,” Ms. Banyai-Becker said, heading off to confront the bar’s proprietors, who also happened to be members of the local D.S.A.
If it’s true that a hammer finds nails everywhere it looks, it can also be said that the Democratic Socialists of America, even in the midst of a raucous party, will find a reason to fight.
On the heels of high-profile primary wins, it might seem that a national gathering of nearly 500 members of the D.S.A. — the country’s largest socialist organization — would feel ecstatic, like a summer camp social for 20-somethings who bewilderingly found themselves beating Democratic Party mainstays and finagling the keys to New York’s City Hall.
But as D.S.A. members gathered for sessions such as “Building Working Class Solidarity,” ecstasy was not the dominant sentiment. It was more like nervous fervor, jittery anticipation, the thudding knowledge that everything they’re looking to do — run a candidate for president in 2028, grow their organization to one million members — will only come after well over 1,000 hours of solemn debate.
“Whether we have 20,000 members or 100,000 members, there’s always going to be people who are pragmatic and people who are more principled,” said Nate Knauf, 28, a leader in Atlanta’s chapter.
It’s a real challenge the organization faces. While D.S.A.-backed candidates have won some recent primaries, the organization’s decision-making processes look markedly different from a traditional political party’s. Although its leaders insist that this is a feature — democracy at work — the internal chaos also raises questions, especially about how the organization plans to address concerns from some Democrats who worry about being tagged as extremists by association, not to mention fierce animosity coming from the right.
But under the twinkle lights of the dive bar on Friday night, surrounded by a pinball machine, a photo booth and a blackboard advertising $7 beers, members of the D.S.A. punched their fists in the air. They formed a sea of sweatshirts that read “Red Hot Socialist Summer,” pins emblazoned with the names of victorious D.S.A. candidates, tattoos of roses and tote bags stuffed with socialist reading material. Perched on a chair in the back of the bar was a taxidermy deer — “Deer Leader,” as some referred to it — wearing a red democratic socialist shirt.
Clustered around tables sticky with spilled beer, some members talked about Leon Trotsky and Eugene Debs, and others stayed within the earthier terrain of conversation about Wisconsin’s democratic socialist candidate for governor, Francesca Hong, and New York City’s democratic socialist mayor, Zohran Mamdani. (One member volunteered that he’d left his high school prom early to appear in a rap video for Mr. Mamdani in 2018.)
Inside the summit, the atmosphere was a blend of fiery agitation (“Kill the Aaron Sorkin West Wing liberal in your head!” said Jorge DeFendini, a socialist elected official from Ithaca, adding “The party bosses are not real!”) and grad school-style discourse. Near the merchandise table was a books stand with copies of “Abolish Rent” and “A People’s Guide to Capitalism.” Copies of “The Communist Manifesto” were sold out on the first day by 5 p.m., the booksellers said.
Plenty of members, though, were not there for gauzy discussions of Karl Marx. Just one mile away from the dive bar social where D.S.A. members were schmoozing, another faction was hosting a party called “DSA for AOC.” It was held at a slightly less divey bar where members stood under disco balls, sipping fruity cocktails and trying to build support for the organization to endorse Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York for president in 2028. The congresswoman wasn’t there, nor has she said whether she will run for president.
“Who has ever won a campaign in D.S.A. just by saying it was a good idea?” asked Katie Sims, the national electoral chair, who was standing on a chair in sensible sneakers.
“We need to build mass consensus across the organization,” they added.
But consensus is a rare feat for D.S.A. members. Among the questions they are wrestling with, or have recently tried to settle: Is it worth spending their time trying to win elections, or is electoral politics bound to disappoint because officials will let the movement down? Should they be trying to run Ms. Ocasio-Cortez for president, or has she distanced herself too much from the D.S.A.? Should they ever back pro-Israel candidates?
Meandering around the D.S.A.’s national summit, you will hear that the organization is defined by the depth of its internal rifts and tensions. You will also hear that in no way can they be defined by their internal tensions. And you may start to think that maybe this disagreement in itself is telling.
Members of the D.S.A. sort themselves, Hogwarts style, into more than a dozen caucuses. There’s Bread and Roses, Marxist Unity Group, Red Star, Groundwork and Communist Caucus. Some, like Groundwork, are laser-focused on winning elections. Others, like Bread and Roses, devote their time to union organizing. And what members call the Commie Caucus is known to give out cigarettes at its parties.
“The caucus wars are legendary,” the national co-chair Megan Romer joked impishly. (There is even a fierce fight over whether it’s Bread and Roses or Bread & Roses.)
The tensions between caucuses and members are heightened because they are both personality-based — who talks the most, who wants to run a chapter, who wants to run for City Council — and principled, focused on the war in Gaza and the minimum wage. Members would often prefer that their internal disagreements stay private, though they tend to wind up plastered publicly on X and stoking impassioned fights at large gatherings. (Perhaps related to this desire to project unity, the summit organizers asked that media speak only to the roughly 40 members who appeared on a list, many of them holding leadership roles in the organization, though outside the summit and at parties, others were eager to talk.)
“I follow the caucus drama; I get involved in it, too,” said Matt Nursey, 36, an Atlanta member, sounding a bit like a therapist trying to break someone of a gossip habit. “But at the end of the day, our goals are aligned.”
For many of its members, the D.S.A. is both a political and a social home. Ms. Banyai-Becker met her boyfriend at a D.S.A. convention. Andrew Thompson, a leader from Denver, recently threw a divorce party for himself filled with his friends from D.S.A. Cliff Connolly, a national leader from Orlando, said the D.S.A. fills the same social function for him that the Catholic Church played for his parents when they were in their 30s.
“Our generation is so alienated — when you go to a canvas, it’s a huge social affair,” said Sara Almosawi, 24, who this year served as chair of the Young Democratic Socialists of America.
One essential question hanging over the summit is whether the D.S.A. should try to become more mainstream as it grows, and whether it will hold on to its quirky, hyper-serious culture as it absorbs new members drawn in by the magnetism of celebrity socialists like Mr. Mamdani.
But three minutes into any exchange with a member, nagging fears about the organization going mainstream can feel moot. Conversations are marinated in a vocabulary that is insistently obtuse. Members talk about having disagreements in a “comradely” way, being a “multi-tendency organization,” building a “big tent” group that spans everyone from “Berniecrats” to “Marxist Leninists.”
“You would say these are disagreements,” said Michaela Brangan, 46, a national leader in D.S.A. from New Jersey.
She paused, then confessed: “I would also say they’re disagreements. But really, it’s a comradely discussion.”
