Last Updated on April 13, 2025
Stronger. Sharper. Still fiercely independent. After four long years of silence, Intercontinental Cry (IC) is back and more ready than ever to serve as a gathering ground for frontline stories from the Arctic to the Amazon and the Pacific to the prairies.
To our long-time readers and friends on Patreon: we see you and thank you for your continued support. We couldn’t have continued this work if you hadn’t kept the fire alive.
For those discovering us for the first time: welcome. You’re entering a space that is rooted in land defense, cultural survival, global solidarity and the fight for justice in its rawest and most necessary form.
The Council of the National Movement of Weavers (Ruchajixik ri qana’ojb’äl) holds monthly meetings to exchange knowledge and articulate the politics of collective intellectual property rights. Hundreds of collectives from across Guatemala participate in the defense of textile heritage.
Intercontinental Cry (IC) is a global platform for Indigenous voices, frontline resistance, and radical truth-telling that’s grounded in fourth world geopolitics. Founded in 2004, we’ve spent nearly two decades spotlighting land defenders, water protectors, and culture keepers from every corner of the planet.
In fact, we’ve covered the struggles and successes of exactly 676 Indigenous nations in 177 countries. And if that wasn’t enough, we also produced five magazines, one book, one podcast, and two documentary films on a shoe-string budget.
Stories at IC are rooted in the people living them. There’s no parachute journalism. No savior narratives. Just lived realities, urgent struggles, and hard-won victories.
But more than a website, we’re a home for writers, activists, academics, thought leaders and communities who understand what’s at stake and have the courage to do something about it.
Credit: Norlando Meza
We hit a wall in 2020. Not because the stories stopped—far from it—but because independent media takes its toll. Like many grassroots publications, we were stretched thin emotionally, financially and spiritually. Then the COVID restrictions hit. We had no choice but to step back to rest, reflect and rethink how we can show up.
But the world didn’t stop. Extractive industries continued expanding. Colonialism continued shifting in color and form. Climate collapse deepened. And Indigenous resistance remained—resilient, fierce and visionary.
That’s why we’re returning now. Because the stories haven’t stopped.
Photo: Mídia NINJA/flickr (Some Rights Reserved)
This new chapter of IC is about deepening our work and expanding our reach. Here’s what you can expect:
Yes, we still accept donations. No, we won’t sell your data. Yes, we’re still fiercely nonprofit. And no, we won’t do clickbait.
Participants in the historic mass pilgrimage to Wirikuta’s Cerro Quemado on Feb. 14-15, 2012, make their way to the xiriki, or house of the gods, at the top of the Cerro Quemado; a sea of clouds carpets the desert below as far as the eye can see. (Tracy L. Barnett photo)
This isn’t just a reboot. It’s a revival. We’re here to amplify, to archive, to agitate, and to honor the brilliance and resistance of Indigenous peoples everywhere.
IC’s revival is also call to action. Because this work cannot exist in a vacuum. It needs a community of people working together for common good.
You can support IC by:
It’s time to get back to work.
Across the world right now, Indigenous peoples are facing a renewed assault on their lands, rights, and ways of life.
From extractive industries pushing deeper into ancestral territories, to governments rolling back hard-won protections,
the threat is global—and it is growing.
What makes this moment especially dangerous is how little attention it receives.
Stories like this are disappearing in real time. Mainstream media
barely covers it and the coverage is fragmented. The public is left without the context
needed to understand what is truly at stake.
That is exactly why IC Magazine exists..
For more than 20 years, IC has reported on Indigenous struggles worldwide — consistently, independently, and without compromise.
We don’t follow news cycles; we trace patterns. We don’t sensationalize; we provide context.
And when the world looks away, we stay focused.
But this work is increasingly difficult to sustain.
We refuse to lock our reporting behind a paywall. We don’t sell access through subscriptions.
And we don’t answer to advertisers. IC Magazine survives solely because readers like you choose to
support independent Indigenous journalism.
Please donate today if you can. Every contribution helps us to continue this crucial work.
Thank you,
John Ahni Schertow
Founder and Editor in Chief
