Montréal Contre-information
Montréal Contre-information
Montréal Contre-information

mtlcounter-info

Nov 232014
 

From Anarchist News

For several years, the St. Henri neighbourhood has been undergoing many changes: a walk along any part of rue Notre Dame will bring you face to face with the new foodie restaurants, high-end boutiques, art galleries, and ”drinkeries” catering to the residents of all the canal-side condos, replacing the dollar stores and flea markets.

Although gentrification of a neighbourhood is more than just new businesses and nice-looking storefronts, we decided to render some of our disgust with gentrification by vandalizing two such examples with fire extinguishers filled with paint. One is Notorious, a high-end barbershop with owners proud to wear Versace outfits, offering services such as a $1000 golden shave, and Campanelli, a coffee shop and fashion boutique which also sports a mural of Louis Cyr, former cop and lauded ‘heroic’ figure in the history of St. Henri. Famous as a Strongman, he was enlisted by the Montreal Police force to bring to heel the untameable Village des tanneries, where today we find Campanelli. Cyr was unable to bring law and order, and was beaten up and kicked out by the locals early on in his career. It is indicative that Campanelli has chosen to highlight this particular figure, and a classic example of the ways in which local histories become distorted to erase resistance and to valorize boot-kissers. We hope Campanelli faces a similar fate to that of Cyr: failure.

These businesses play an active role in the ”revitalisation” of the neighbourhood, and contribute to pushing out the poor in favour of young yuppies with considerable income and who are always in search of the new trend – whether in terms of food, beer, fashion, or even neighborhood. Unable to afford the new price of living and facing greater police harassement, a method of social cleansing that pushes undesirables further and further from downtown and central areas, precarious workers, the unemployed, and all other marginalized of society are always on the losing end of this ”revitalisation”.

We see this action as part of a struggle against colonialism and as a gesture of solidarity with indigenous self-determination and soverignty. While we recognize that our struggle in Montreal, occupied indigenous territory, isn’t at all comparable to indigenous struggles in form or content, we engaged in this action in solidarity with those in struggle against exploitative projects, including pipeline construction and other resource extraction schemes.

We think that one of the best ways to act in solidarity is to struggle in our own context against common enemies: the forces of repression and displacement, including capital and the police. In this sense, inspired in part by the struggles against threats to the territory and water on lands already stolen from indigenous peoples, the threats that participate in this ongoing process of colonisation and genocide of indigenous peoples in Canada, we attacked the forces that further alienate us from our surroundings and push us out of the spaces we inhabit.

Some anarchists

Nov 202014
 

via act for freedom now!:

We have been in prison for over 10 months now. In recent weeks they have passed two sentences on us: federal and common. On November 1 Judge Manuel Munoz Bastida of the eighth federal court of Reclusorio Sur handed down a sentence of seven and a half years’ prison on charges of “Arson to a public building with people inside,” this for the damage caused to the “Mexican communication and transport offices”.

The “people inside” are the two federal pigs that were in charge of the security of the place. Then, on November 7, we received the second sentence for the common court charges of “damage to private property in a group” and “breach of the peace”. These charges relate to the attack that occurred at the car dealership of Nissan. It being on the corner of the STC where we burned the cars.

Judge Margarita Bastida Negrete of the court of common law # 18 of Reclusorio East sentenced us to two years and seven months in prison, joining the two charges so that material damage and breach of the peace became damages of 108 000 pesos. According to the law, for all sentences of less than 5 years, first time offenders are entitled to certain benefits.

In our case, if we pay a fine of 43,000 pesos we will be released immediately or we can pay a minimum of 10,000 pesos each and sign each month to the court during the 2 years and 7 months. We shall appeal against both sentences, because the public prosecutor has appealed against the common court ruling, and we against the federal sentence. They should come to their decisions within five months. In fact it is the federal sentence that is keeping us inside here. In order to get out the federal judgment must be less than five years. So, we will see in the coming months if there is a chance to leave this place.

We have been informed of the publication of an article in the Quebec newspaper “La Presse”, one of the most widely read newspapers in Quebec, by Philippe Teisceira-Lessard. We are angry about the publication of this article that talks about our case, citing in part our public letters and what our lawyer told the reporter.

We have never asked any of the mass media to spread news of our case, nor did we authorize our lawyer to communicate any information to journalists. If we have anything to communicate, we prefer to do ourselves. The mass media are enemies in the same way as the police are, the most powerful instruments of social control that exist at the present time. That said, may that asshole Philippe Lessard stop harassing our families and be clear that we have no need of his articles to discuss our situation.

So, we carry on, with strength in our hearts and shitting on justice and the State. We do not expect anything from the law, even if we really want to get out of here.

Strength to our accomplice Carlos Lopez Marin (in East), comrade Luis Fernando (South), to Abraham and Fernando (North). In addition, greetings to Mario Gonzales, now free, and a very strong hug to Felicity, Tripa and the witch.

Fire to civilization, war on society.

Until freedom and beyond!

Amelie
Fallon
Santa Martha

Nov 192014
 

From Fireworks

The following is a transcript of a conversation between two friends shortly after the insurgency in Ferguson, Missouri. Bart was there and Nicola wasn’t, but both of them have participated in anti-police uprisings in the last several years on the West Coast and in the Midwest. We’re publishing this in an effort to explore the complexities of recent events in the United States, but also to contribute to the ongoing discussions and attacks against the existing order, everywhere.

Nicola: One of the most interesting experiments by rebels in the Bay Area in the past years was the establishment of Oscar Grant Plaza (the home of Occupy Oakland also known as the Oakland Commune) as a police-free zone in the fall of 2011.

The logistics of this experiment were actually fairly simple: whenever the police attempted to enter the encampment, a crowd would gather around them and force them to leave. At times this meant screaming, while at others it was merely a matter of informing the officers that they would have a riot on their hands if they intruded. People at the encampment took several measures to defend themselves from the presence of the police. Materially, communards stockpiled materials to build barricades and projectiles to be used against any unwanted police presence. They re-appropriated police barricades for their own purposes and built barricades of their own. They tore up the paving stones of the plaza to be hurled at police raiders. Culturally, the police-free environment reproduced itself by fostering hostility toward the police, and a culture of street-based resistance to them. When the camp fell under siege, the cops and their stations fell victim to a chaotic wave of retribution. As demonstrations and riots against the police reach their limits in time, we consistently ask ourselves how to sustain these suspensions of order longer than a few days. One possibility is that the cultivation of zones free from the police could provide an answer this dilemma.

If by maintaining a police free zone, the Oakland Commune offered a contribution to the struggles of everyone who works to create territories against the police – to make their homes, neighborhoods and cities entirely hostile to police occupation – it could be argued that the recent uprising in Ferguson significantly expanded upon this experiment. It seems as though the revolt in Ferguson is unprecedented in recent years, if not in many peoples’ lifetimes, in terms of the duration but also the intensity of what happened. It also appears that, similar to the situation in Oakland, people in Ferguson were able to seize space and to create a police-free zone in a way more combatively than had been done before.

Bart: I would agree to a degree. I think there were steps taken towards creating a liberated space, or an autonomous zone. In general, I think a riot is a situation where a space is opened that is free of police or the State’s laws. So every night that there was rioting there were these temporary lawless and police free zones opened up. What made this different from other riots though, is how sustained the rioting was. Also how after three days of rioting, people reclaimed the burned down QT as central hub of activity for the uprising. I think the significance of the QT was that it expanded the autonomy and lawlessness of the rioting at nights into the daytime. It would be dishonest to say the lawlessness and anti-police sentiment of the riots completely transferred to the QT. There were times when high ranking police officers came into the parking lot to make statements to the press. But it did at least create an environment that was incredibly hostile to them, and usually any time a squad car or low ranking officer came into sight, they were attacked or shouted out of the area. It was obvious to the police and to the participants of the rebellion, that the QT was our space, not the space of the police or the capitalists.

Nicola: It does feel like its easier for people who weren’t there to see the more spectacular things – the looting, the arsons, the molotov cocktails – but unfortunately the efforts to create space without police is harder for people to see from afar. It seems obvious that this was really central to the ferocity of what was happening. What did it feel like to be at the QT? What was that space like? Also what were some of the more specific ways that people prevented the police from coming there or other areas that had been carved out?

Bart: Well for the most part the QT was this incredibly festive and joyful place in the daytime where people were doing graffiti, driving up with giant barbeques and giving away hundreds of hot dogs; everyone brought water to share, nothing cost money, everything was free. It became a weird cultural center as well. There were rappers, people break dancing, a teenage step-crew came in. There was a joyful street fair atmosphere at times. At the same time people would be handing out masks for the night, sharing stories from the nights before. At one point I hung out with a man who shared pictures of all the shoes he’d looted the night before and we traded stories. People were talking about what to do if they gas this way, what to do if they come from that way. So while it was this festive and celebratory atmosphere it was clearly also a space where people were forming strategies and talking and connecting. Since it was the central gathering point, everyday you’d come back and you’d start to see people and recognize faces; maybe you’d have talked to someone the night before or you’d engaged in something with them and you’d be able to see them again and talk; you’d begin to form relationships and share ideas. That was really exciting.

Toward the night the police would eventually push towards the QT, but the QT itself was about half a mile from where most of the conflicts happened, so often they’d only be able to reach it after hours and hours of street fighting. It took them so long because they were terrified of coming into the crowd, especially during the day when there would be thousands of people around. The St. Louis area has a history of police being shot at, and police are very aware of that. The police know people are armed and willing to shoot. From the beginning of the uprising, rebels made this very clear: one of the first things to happen after they killed Mike Brown was shots being fired into the air. And then Sunday, the first night of rioting, during the looting, people were again firing shots. I can think of one particular situation where the police tried to push in, and people formed a line to fight them off. As the standoff was ending, the police cowardly gassed the crowd and left. Instantly there were gunshots at the police all up and down that mile stretch of road. You could hear gunshots everywhere, and see people jumping out of cars to shoot; shooting at them, shooting in their general direction. People learned that you didn’t even need to shoot at them, but simply shooting in their general direction or making it known that you were armed was enough to keep the police back. So the guns kept them at bay. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever seen that level of blatant armed action in a riot or demonstration or whatever you want to call what was going on up there.

Secondly, the other thing that I’d never seen before, specific to this situation was the car culture and the way cars were used in a few ways to confuse the police, block them and also just tie them up. West Florissant, the major street where all the rioting and looting and fighting was happening, is a four lane highway. And so up and down the strip people were using it as a cruising ground with countless cars packed with people, blaring music, with half a dozen kids on the hood, honking horns, and everyone screaming. This created a situation where it was impossible for the police to drive into the crowd; the cars were so dense. And also the general noise added to the insanity of the situation, so it was totally nuts to be out there. It was a situation that was completely uncontrollable and they had no idea what to do. If they came in on foot, they were attacked; if they came in cars, the cars would get stuck and they were attacked. Also a lot of the guns were kept in peoples’ cars, so people were mobile and armed. At times cars were also weapons. On one night cars actually crashed into police lines. People would use the cars as barricades; everyone would drive and park their cars across the street and form lines behind them. I remember at one point two young girls parked their cars hood to hood blocking all four lanes of traffic and on the other side of the cars, facing the police, everyone had guns. The cars were used as barricades to shoot from, as a means to stay mobile, as celebratory parade vehicles, and in general a way to confuse and intimidate the police. So I really think these two things particular to Ferguson, the gun culture and the car culture, helped to create and keep this autonomous police-free zone. Not to mention the fact that there were thousands of people participating.

Nicola: I’m under the impression, from a few accounts, that it wasn’t just the QT that the police were afraid to enter. I’ve heard that they mostly limited their activity to West Florissant and that there were certain streets and certain neighborhoods they wouldn’t enter.

Bart: That’s definitely true. Particularly the neighborhood where Mike Brown lived, Canfield Apartments, off Canfield Ave. The police would not drive down that street. People quickly learned that, but enforced that also. And so as the night went on and the police would force people off the main strip, people would fall back a block or half a block and that was often where people would shoot at the police from. They’d drive down the strip and get shot at from the side streets. Anytime a cop did come into the side streets, people would fall back further into the neighborhoods. If a cop tried to follow further they’d get shot at from the bushes, from the houses, from cars. People burned trash in the streets so they couldn’t come in. And so it was a repeated thing, night after night, that people would be fighting in west Florissant until the overwhelming police presence (including teargas and rubber bullets) forced them off the main street. They’d then either fight to keep the police out of the neighborhoods or they’d wait until the gas cleared to go fight on the street again.

Nicola: Thinking back to the Oakland Commune encampment, it is obvious that creating a space where police couldn’t enter was crucial to that struggle. But what I found especially wonderful was that it was more than just a defensive zone; that it became a base of sorts from where other attacks could be carried. On several occasions demonstrations would leave from the camp; because media cameras weren’t allowed in, it was relatively safe for people to change clothes and put on masks there. On probably a dozen instances in the first few weeks of the camp, nearby police offices and vehicles were trashed. Do you feel that the space carved out in Ferguson, at the QT and elsewhere, helped to spread offensive maneuvers, beyond being a space to gather and to defend?

Bart: I think there were bits of both. There were points at night where people would be there, and would get organized to go loot somewhere further away. And maybe people would have taken the initiative to do that even if they hadn’t been in Ferguson on that strip, but I really do think that everyone being there together allowed people to begin to act collectively. We were out there one night and people started chanting “Walmart! Walmart!” and everyone started running to their cars, doing donuts, and peeling out. Walmart was four miles away from where the riots were taking place, and so without the context of a place where people could discuss “oh we should go loot Walmart!” and feel safe and comfortable enough to do that, I don’t think that would have happened. In some ways it did allow for that type of spreading. But, in other ways I think it didn’t, because people were so attached to this space they’d liberated (and it did really feel like a liberated space) that people couldn’t imagine expanding or leaving. People were so focused on the QT and Canfield and West Florissant that it seemed hard to imagine the rioting spreading to somewhere else. That space had become so important to people, and because of that people were willing to do a lot to defend it. So to a degree it was used as a space to plan out attacks or expropriations in other parts of the city, but the rebellion never really spread far beyond that central area.

Nicola: Its inspiring to hear you talk about part of Ferguson as a liberated space because this is the same way that many of us thought of the Oakland Commune encampment. The first thing that happened when we took the plaza was to change the name to Oscar Grant Plaza, and with that it was almost as if a spell had been cast over the space. Things felt different when you were within it. A lot of people talked about time feeling different when in that space; the concerns and pressures of their relationships and jobs and all the things that would usually weigh on them seemed to melt away when people walked into the camp. I think that in that space more things felt possible and to me that was something I haven’t experienced elsewhere – this immense opening up of possibilities and the ability to talk to people in a way that previously felt impossible. It feels like an entirely different world, so far removed from a life of work and responsibilities and indignities. In a sense this is maybe what’s at stake in creating spaces like this: creating magic places where we can discover new things about ourselves.

Bart: Definitely. In a lot of ways it felt similar. One of the small roles anarchists had was to push for a name change for the QT; people started calling it Mike Brown Plaza, sort of reminiscent of the occupation movement. It was clear knowledge that we hadn’t been given the right to assemble or protest or whatever. Everyone knew we could only do what we were doing because we had taken it. And because of that knowledge that we had taken the power away from the police, Mayor and Governor, the space became incredibly important to people. So yeah, a similar thing happened. Time didn’t make sense there. Somehow you’d be there and all of a sudden eight hours would have disappeared. I remember one night, we were all hanging out, there had been a lot of looting, the liquor store was on fire and we were all just sitting around watching it burn and this man said “fuck, what time is it!? I have to go to work tomorrow.” Our friend laughed because she also had to go to work in the morning and she asked, “do you really want to know?” and he replied “no, fuck that; time doesn’t matter. Fuck work, that doesn’t matter.” and he just went back to partying. So yeah, things changed, and like you said, the ability to talk to people really changed. St. Louis is an incredibly segregated place where racial tension is visceral and real, but up there the tension eased. People could see who was there. People could see, oh you’re here, I’m here too, this is a thing we share in common and can bond over. This was especially true between the militants in the uprising. A mutual respect was developed between people who were fighting. So it became much easier to talk to people. These identities, these constrictions that society puts upon us to keep us separate, began to fade away, even if for the briefest moments. Obviously there were still pretty intense dynamics around race and gender or peoples perceived backgrounds or motivations, but in some way it did begin to dissolve.

Nicola: Thinking back again to the Oakland Commune, and how important the camp was in creating these types of possibilities and relationships, it becomes obvious that the downside of course is that so much seemed to disappear after the camp was raided and taken from us. Once the police enforced a total militarized occupation of the space and made it impossible to reclaim, it did really feel like the beginning of the end. From there it felt like any attempt to create similar spaces or keep up momentum were outright crushed. So I’m wondering how the eventual fencing off and re-occupation (by police) of the QT affected what was going on in the riots, if at all.

Bart: I mean it could be a coincidence, but it felt real that the day they fenced off the QT (ten days or so after the initial rioting), was the first night that social peace returned to the streets of Ferguson. Once they’d taken this space away people didn’t feel the ability to congregate and lost this very socially important space. So a lot of the combativeness disappeared. Also people were tired and the national guard was on the streets, and so this combined with recuperation by leftists and religious leaders helped to end things. It was a really big blow to the uprising to lose the QT, and then lose the streets of West Florissant.

Nicola: For me, this brings up the questions of anarchists’ relationship to spaces like these where previously unimaginable types of rebellions are playing out. Others who’ve participated in moments like these, where the activity of everyday people vastly outpaces what anarchists are doing, have posed the question of how to act alongside them or not. It seems as though there are two ideas. One of which is to be there, among others, to share the knowledge and tactical perspectives we have; to be within the crowd helping to push things where we can. Another idea is that rather than participating in the streets in these specific places (the plazas, etc), we could be advancing our own projectuality elsewhere and could find other openings and moments to act and carry out our intentions. Based on your experiences in Ferguson, how do you think about this question?

Bart: I don’t think this is really a dichotomy where you have to choose one or the other. In Ferguson I think it was incredibly important to be up there, particularly as a largely white group, to take steps to dissolve the segregation and racial tension that exists in this city by acting in solidarity with others; also to make connections. Also many of us have never experienced this type of rebellion and I think it was important for people to get that sort of experience in the streets; to experience what it feels like to collectively struggle and fight back. I don’t think that necessarily means that people shouldn’t do other things too. When we were up there, we found ourselves rapidly outpaced by other rebels. So even if you believe in an anarchist vanguard, that wasn’t a possibility because people were already so much more advanced than what most anarchists were prepared for. Also, due to certain racial tensions, those perceived as white outsiders needed to limit their ways of engaging, to follow rather than take initiative. It was such a tense environment that things could really go any direction in any moment, which felt really weird. At the same time it felt amazing to be up there with people struggling together. So I do think it was very important for us as anarchists to be participating in the heart of the uprising.

In addition though, as anarchists we have developed this set of specialized skills we’ve learned over the years as anarchists in the streets, and we should be thinking about how to use these skills in critical moments in different parts of the city that could have a big impact or help things to spread to another place. One of the cooler things that happened in a different place, involved all the gas and pepperspray supplies being shipped in. There was a distribution center in Minnesota where wildcat workers refused to ship any gas to Ferguson. Not that this is necessarily specific to anarchists, but it is interesting to note that there are key places where our enemies can sustain a critical blow by not getting the supplies or reinforcements they need in the streets. It can limit their capability to act. I think anarchists should be doing both, we should be in the streets and we should be thinking of ways to help the situation expand and last longer; to sabotage the attempts of the police to regain social peace; to imagine ways things can spread; to watch and study the city for other sparks that could be fueled; showing signs of disruption all over the city, even graffiti or small attacks – everything was noticed in those weeks.

Nicola: It seems like some of the other things anarchists can do in these situations include encouraging people to wear masks, attacking surveillance systems, trying to undermine more sinister or subtle types of recuperation or leftist attempts to seize control. These things are almost constants that we should expect and have some strategic perspective around.

Bart: I can say for sure that anarchists did create a culture – almost single handedly – of wearing masks. Where the first few nights people were openly saying “why would I wear a mask!? I’m proud of what I’m doing, I want people to know I’m doing this” while committing crazy felonies, later in the week it was almost a fashion statement to have a shirt tied around your head. I think another way anarchists helped to create a safer space for people to engage in more combative action was by attacking the media crews and pushing them out of the streets, or at least back towards police lines. Before this happened there would be dozens of film crews, taking footage of looters, many of whom had no masks on, or had visible tattoos.

Nicola: It seems like there are potentials when these situations erupt – both in the epicenter and at the margins – for all sorts of people, including anarchists, to find some sort of individual self-realization and also to push their own projects further. In doing so they might also help to spread the social conflict and I think it is at the intersection of these possibilities that some of the most exciting things happen. It feels pretty clear that a lot of what we’ve talked about already has been in one way or another about identity and I think that its in these conflictual situations that we can actually understand how identity works against us. A basic contention that a lot of people coming out of struggles in the Bay Area, whether the Oscar Grant rebellion or the occupations, is the idea that identity is a tool of the state used to keep people apart and to enforce the social roles that people are expected to play. It also becomes clear that, in these moments of rupture, identities start to break apart and collapse. As a consequence, this is where the state tries to regain control first, through the logic of identity and through a reimposition of the identity categories that were previously falling apart. It seems, from your account and others, that this was also at play in Ferguson.

Bart: This is definitely true, and I think the state in the Bay has perfected the modern day use of Identity as a form of control, especially in situations like the Oscar Grant Rebellion. Having watched what happened there, it is really interesting to see the parallels, word for word, in how the state responded here. After the first night of rioting, almost instantly the Sheriff came out and said “this is a small group of white, anarchist, outside agitators that came in and stirred things up”. To me it was obvious that this was an attempt to try and preemptively put a stop to any sort of racial unity. Historically, racializing situations has been one of the first measures the state takes to put down rebellions. Whether it was class rebellions against the state in the sixteen and seventeen hundreds or anti-police rebellions in the past decade. The term “outside agitator” was actually first used in the US in the 60’s by a southern Sheriff to describe whites coming down to collaborate and struggle with blacks against segregation. Being in this uprising was the closest I’ve ever felt to people taking real steps to break apart their identities based on race, gender, class, anarchist, etc. Obviously these identities weren’t actually gone, and there were still many dynamics at play based on them, but they started to weaken. And so that was one of the first things that the state (and the many micro-states, or anyone who sought to gain control of the situation) attempted to re-instate. It was visible when the police talked about ‘white anarchists’ and instantly some leftists groups picked up this same language. There was also a strong push by more ‘radical’ groups such as the Nation of Islam, and the New Black Panther Party, to racialize things. They were in the streets trying to push a line that this was a black issue, and it was a struggle for black power. Unlike the leftists and politicians, these groups were in the streets every night, but it was still obvious that their attempts to racialize things was only to gain control of a crowd and push their political agenda.

Nicola: It seems like gender was also a key factor. I’ve heard accounts of Al Sharpton and others calling for “strong black men” to step forward to help police the demonstrations, and for the young men participating in the riots to “grow up and be a man” by helping to end the rioting, or also calling for women to go home “to be with their children”. It seems like gender was an obvious axis along with race that politicians used to try to put things down.

Bart: Yeah, it was actually really funny to see the back and forth of these same groups. The leftists who were trying to gain control would be out there talking about how all the rioters were young men and there weren’t elderly people or women in an attempt to discredit the riots. Firstly, this just wasn’t true, there were so many types of people out there fighting. Even funnier was that their response was to create things like Al Sharpton’s ‘disciples of justice’ who were 100 black men that he called on to control things. They were really pushing these gender roles that women needed to go home or fall to the back, “there are women and children out here, its dangerous” or one night the Nation of Islam was out there saying “take your women home!” When you step back and look at the situation its apparent that the people discrediting the riots for being largely men in their 20’s were either the same parties or working with the same parties who were trying to push women and children off the streets at night, trying to stop the fighting in the name of defending the “women, children and elderly” that were in the streets. But the thing is, in the streets at night, when it was conflictual, people just weren’t taking it. Any time people were trying to racialize things or enforce strict gender roles that men should be the combatants and women should go home, people would actively refuse it, shout at them, tell them to go home, say “fuck you, this is our struggle”.

Nicola: There’s a really subtle way, that is also very intentional, where we can see in the Bay and in Ferguson, where the state, the media, the leftists, the police, are all pushing the same line. It is an attempt to take this crazy racialized violence, this day to day campaign of extermination against primarily young black men, and to turn it into this limited “issue” about a few racist cops or the need for a handful of small reforms to policing or prosecution. In doing so they mystify the fact that race isn’t an ‘issue’ but that race and racial violence is the foundation of…

Bart: American society!

Nicola: Yeah, all the misery that is inflicted on people here.

Bart: Yeah, it makes sense why they immediately try to reduce things to an issue. Because these rebellions and moments like this really break open the potential for what can happen. People were talking about how this isn’t an issue, it isn’t just about Ferguson, it isn’t a black and white thing. Its a people versus the blue, its a systemic thing. This is way past an issue, it was a breaking point. This wasn’t just an antipolice riot, it was an insurrection against dominant society, against the way things exist, against class, against white supremacy. It was no longer just about a bad cop, or justice. What people want is freedom, and up there we were starting to figure out how to take steps to get that. And this is terrifying to the leftists and the politicians and anyone with any sort of comfort in this world that they might lose. So it makes sense that these groups would join forces in order to calm things down and restore peace. The left talks about taking steps toward reform and all this bullshit, but people could see through it, that it was an attempt to push them back into the same ‘ole cages they always are in.

Nicola: With that, another way of thinking about the question is the look at the question of anarchist identity. And that in the same way that the gendered and racial barriers that keep us apart and prevent us from acting in certain ways, the anarchist identity also dissolves in these moments. On the one hand you have all sorts of people, anarchists or not, spreading anarchic activities, arson, looting. And then on the other hand you have all sorts of people who weren’t anarchists being called such by the media. So for those of us who are anarchists and choose to participate in these struggles, it almost stops mattering who is an anarchist and who isn’t. Or maybe it matters to us, but in the broader sense doesn’t.

Bart: Ideally I’d like to think that the anarchist identity would also dissolve in a situation like this. When there’s an uprising it makes sense to lose ones identity; Not to lose ones’ ethics or ideas or desires or the tensions one holds with the world from an anarchist perspective, but to lose the way that any identity can be used against us. We saw this play out when the state labelled people as anarchists and tried to use that to separate militants out in the street. I think its important to let go of these identities and let go of any social baggage we have from participating in an anarchist scene, for better or worse. One thing that I can think of, and by no means do I intend to talk shit, but I can remember during the London riots, a situation where the whole country is burning, the FAI claimed responsibility for an attack against two or three cars. And while I highly respect the attack and the individuals who risked their safety to carry this out, it doesn’t make sense in my mind to isolate oneself and set oneself apart in that way. We should be acting, but we shouldn’t be acting in order to separate ourselves from people. So yeah, I think it was important for the anarchist identity to dissolve alongside all other identities.

Nicola: In a certain sense, moments like these are clarifying in terms of why we fight and why we do what we do. I’d say that for anarchists, especially those of us who desire insurrection, what is at stake is not a fight to affirm an anarchist identity or ideology, but to actually fight for anarchy.

Bart: Definitely

Nicola: The final thoughts and questions I have are about whats to come in the coming months and whats to happen now. The space that was created in Ferguson is gone but the tensions that led to this revolt still exist. And the thousands of people who participated in this revolt carry with them their experiences and the self-transformations they went through. All that continues, and so it seems intuitive that things will continue also. It is just a matter of how we can make things spread and also how those of us not in Ferguson can express our solidarity when it is needed.

Bart: Firstly, I just don’t know. The city feels like it will never be the same after this uprising. Things feel different and the tensions are still there. In ways it feels like a steam cap was blown and a little bit of anger was released over the twelve days of rioting. It is hard to connect with people because of how spread out and alienated the city is, but I think its important to keep showing signals of disorder, having visible attacks and signs of resistance. Also the Left is finally starting to get a foothold and organize these large days of action. These are totally recuperative, but at the same time there are still large groups of people who refuse to be controlled by these politicians and activists, and so it makes sense to engage in them. Whether simply to disrupt or push them in different directions. I also think it makes sense to act in conjunction but outside of these events. We are at a very crucial moment, where everything is being noticed, and that gives us a situation where, as anarchists, we might be able to introduce new analysis, new tactics and hopefully spread things into new terrains, both literally and figuratively. As for what anarchists elsewhere can be doing… while I think solidarity attacks are always impressive and wouldn’t discourage them, I think that on a broader sense only anarchists see them. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it gives us warmth and strength to see others attacking, but I think it makes sense for rebels to think about how things might spread and how they can act in ways that inspire rebellion in their own places. If not also acting in ways that could impact or deter the efforts of police in Ferguson. So I’m not entirely sure how this can look, but I know people are creative.

Download PDF here.

Nov 082014
 

From Contra-info

On November 6th, 2014, in the proceeding under common law, Amélie Trudeau Pelletier, Fallon Poisson Rouiller and Carlos López Marín were sentencedto 2 years, 7 months and 15 days in prison, and ordered to pay damages of 108 thousand pesos, on charges of attacks to public peace and aggravated damages committed by gang.

In the following days the defense will appeal against the sentence. This judgment runs parallel to the sentence of 7 years and 6 months handed down to the comrades on the 31st of October, in the federal case trial, that has already been appealed.

Freedom for all! Down with the prison walls!
Solidarity and complicity with Carlos, Amélie and Fallon.

Nov 042014
 

From Anarchist News

The past week has seen two attacks in Canada against Canadian soldiers by Muslim men. In response, thousands of people filled the streets to wave flags and call for heightened surveillance, preventive arrests, and war in the middle east. The crowds are calling for a police state. It feels heavy, and we’re stuck watching with dread as the crowds seem intent on re-enacting propaganda scenes from the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Except in Canada in 2014, instead of a torch the crowds are cheering on the progress of a dead soldier whose corpse was driven from Ottawa to Hamilton.

The politics advanced by these two spectacles are alarmingly similar: to defeat the enemy outside our borders, we have to defeat the enemy within. In theory, the military and police are distinct bodies with separate roles. But even though these attacks targeted soldiers and followed Canada’s decision to go to war in Iraq and Syria, the response to them will be through policing.

People are in the streets calling for a police state: Why isn’t everyone with an extremist ideology being watched around the clock? If you have enough suspicion to surveil someone, why can’t you arrest them? What additional powers do police need to surveil and assess who has an extremist ideology? They are calling for the further merging of policing and military roles, for the expansion of counter-insurgency warfare within the canadian territory.

The second soldier killed was from Hamilton and his regiment is based right downtown, on a rapidly gentrifying stretch of James St, just a few blocks from where I’m writing. For three days, the street has seen a proliferation of flags and public displays of grief. Local media dutifully film the spectacle and broadcast it back to us – in the echo chamber, grief and nationalism become inseparable. Any questioning of the state is a failure of compassion for the tragic hero.

There is no space for a critical public narrative around this, which is unsurprising. Cue the usual calls for anyone visibly Muslim to participate in the public grief – the local imam makes his way down to the armory to lay a wreath and remind everyone that he’s Canadian to. With us or against us – the logic of war begins to take over. Meanwhile, in Alberta, in the same town that hosts the fighter jets that just left for Iraq, nationalists paint “Go Home” and “Canada” across the face of a mosque.

I’m finding it hard to avoid the comparison to 1936, no matter how cliched. In anarchist circles, people had already begun describing the conflict in and around Syria as a “Spain 1936 moment” – it seems clear that a decisive ideological combat has been engaged. However, as in 1936, each step in the shift from rhetoric to proxy war to open war marked a closing of debate, a narrowing of ideology, and a consolidation of power. By the time World War 2 began in earnest, all the sides had settled into more or less their own forms of fascism – the start of the war marked a closing of possibility for liberatory struggle.

Within Syria, this was the government’s strategy from the beginning. The government responded to protest militarily, which meant that only a militarized opposition was possible. As conflict escalated, the possibilities steadily closed until the only roles left to be played were soldier, refugee, or victim. And the part of the opposition to the Syrian government most prepared to accept the military paradigm were the religious fascist organization such as the Islamic State/Daesh and Al-Nusra. And this was exactly what the government had anticipated – the logic of war had narrowed the field until Bashar al-Assad could reasonably look like the good guy.

The grassroots activists who started this uprising are still struggling for freedom and dignity, but their voices are largely submerged in the logic of war. Effectively, the conflict has become a struggle between rival fascisms, secular and religious, each with their different international backers.

The Kurdish regions sought to engage differently, securing their autonomy by force but not taking part in the struggle to control the state. But inevitably, the war came to them. Anarchists in North America have been increasingly interested in the Kurdish regions of Syria and Turkey, where decades of more traditional national liberation struggle against various states have given way to a new strategy of federated communities developing practical autonomy in their territories without the need to decisively engage the state. Many have described it as an anarchistic system. However, the increasingly dangerous situation in the Syrian Kurdish regions, aggravated by the actions of the Turkish and Iraqi states, has become the justification for an expanded military role of Western nations in the conflict, actions that stand to most benefit the Assad dictatorship.

And so enter Canada, with its six old fighter jets, making a symbolic stand alongside the United States and the other big boys of western power and influence.

When I talk about how the logic of war shuts down discussion, I’m not hoping for some sort of democratic ideal, the free exchange of views in the marketplace of ideas. I don’t just want to be able to go hold a “Fuck the Military” sign out in front of the armory without getting beat up. I’m talking about fascism and police states, where the logic of war enters into every part of our lives and demands we line up on the side of the nation state that claims us. What kind of response can we imagine to this?

It’s taken many of us in this area a long time to admit it, but radical momentum decreasing. The pendulum is moving away from us in its cyclical path. Many former anarchists (who may still use that word for themselves when it suits them) have already noticed this, and slipped into safer positions within the institutional left. Anarcha-lobbyists, anarcho-bureaucrats, anarchist academics. In a context of decreasing strength, can we imagine a response to the calls for a police state this isn’t further retreat?

Anarchists and other radicals here have a recent history of being arrested and charged based on “extremist” ideologies and actions not yet taken – many of us got rounded up in advance of the G20 summit in 2010. The G20 as well as the response to the massive 2012 student strike in Montreal demonstrated the state’s willingness and ability to militarize even a major city and the lengths they will go to shut us down if its convenient or necessary for them to consider us a threat. These fresh memories and our reduced capacity for confrontation explain the heaviness that settled over us as public grief seamlessly became nationalism, which then became a call for a massive increase in policing.

Anarchists had already been looking for ways to learn more about the conflict in and around Syria and had begun finding ways to offer practical solidarity to Kurdish groups that seemed to share our values. But with Canada’s material participation in the war there to support Kurdish regions, are we now simply ligning up alongside the western nations in an imperialist war? Or is there space to attack both the military intervention and the fascist groups in Syria?

In 1936, many anarchists thought there was space for a liberatory struggle within the impending clash between socialist and capitalist fascisms. Conflict flared up in Spain, and hey traveled there from all over the world to fight Franco’s avowed fascists only to find themselves attacked by the fascists who called themselves communists. Their struggle for anarchy became a foot note to the unbelievable slaughter that came after, but after Spain it was clear that none of the powers were fighting for freedom. Though of course all hypocritically claimed they were, and many chose to believe that the lesser of evils was somehow not itself evil.

The two young men who died while attacking Canadian soldiers this week had tried to travel to the middle east shortly before, and at least one of them explicitly trying to join Daesh. Fascist propaganda always contains a grain of truth, which in the case of Daesh is the reality of the history of western imperialism in the middle east in the 20th century. Western countries redrew the political map, imposed the nation-state model, propped up or toppled dictators at their whims, and perhaps most importantly supported political Zionism and the state of Israel. This grain of truth is then used to drive a romanticized historical narrative and a vision of returning to a purer way of life – for Daesh, the tried-and-true story that Muslim nations are subjugated because they are insufficiently pious and that true Muslim piety is based a specific and highly literal reading of the Qu’ran and Hadith. And finally this narrative is used to garner support for a militarized, totalitarian political project that envisions endless expansion and legitimates authoritarian rule through successful military campaigns abroad.

The Canadian state always struggles to define itself and to arouse the passions of its subjects. A country with a short history, it relies on erasing the histories of Indigenous nations and of genocide, and unlike the United States, it has no founding battle of self-definition, just a bureaucratic stroke of the pen. Canada never became a cause, much to the frustration of its political elites, although it has not yet given up on becoming one.

The media is incessantly asking what could draw good Canadian youths to Daesh’s ideology. But one could just as well ask what drew the young soldier killed in Ottawa to take up arms in defense of a genocidal, imperialist nation state. Interviews with his family show that he loved the military since he was a child, it just seemed to be in his blood they say. As despicable as it is to claim that any child is born to follow orders to kill and die, Canada is using the same kinds of narratives as Daesh to attract the same directionless, war-fetishizing young men to its cause.

The grain of truth in the Canadian propaganda is that people in Canada enjoy many social freedoms. The historical narrative is of brave explorers befriending natives (who then somehow disappeared) and who through their work and dedication, opened up the country from sea to sea to sea, and developed an enlightened nation while avoiding the excesses of the United States. The authoritarian project looks different here – it’s a trade of complicity for privilege, including the privilege to not be bothered by political matters. In times of crisis though, more is asked of us to stay on the state’s good side.

After the mosque in Cold Lake was vandalized, so-called good Canadians came, helped clean it up, and sang the national anthem outside of it. The choice being offered Canadian Muslims is clear – which side of Canadian nationalism do you want to be on? Do you want to be attacked or join us in singing the anthem? Would you rather be cheering on the jets as they leave Cold Lake, or dodging their bombs in Iraq? Will you support giving the police new powers or will you risk becoming a target?

It turns out anarchists in the Canadian territory didn’t need to travel to participate in our very own Spain 1936 – the conflict has conveniently come to us and now even to continue as we did before is to pick sides. There is no neutral position here, and the terrain is shifting rapidly.

In a time of decreasing radical energy, how do we orient ourselves within this logic of war? Between competing fascisms, can we find those with whom we share affinity on the ground in the Middle East, and would our ability to provide solidarity influence the struggle either here or there? Will organizing against new repressive measures provide opportunities for increasing struggle, or will it make us more isolated and vulnerable to repression? What kinds of support and solidarity are we interested in extending to Muslim communities that are increasingly being targeted by the state, and what opportunities could be created by building relationships there?

We have no conclusions to offer. Roads in Hamilton will be closed Tuesday for a soldier’s funeral. Two months ago, two young Muslim men were attacked and badly beaten on their way home from Friday prayer. The sign in front of City Hall displays a countdown to the start of the PanAm games, and we know the security apparatus for that event is already in full gear, looking around Hamilton for plausible threats it can use to justify its existence. Should we try to go on the offensive against the nationalist escalation, or should we take this time of diminished expectations to withdraw from confrontation and strengthen our networks? What opportunities exist in this moment? Can we find ways to refuse the logic of war and continue to struggle for anarchy?

Nov 022014
 

From Contra-info

On October 31st, 2014 judges handed down sentence in the federal process against Amélie Trudeau Pelletier, Fallon Poisson Rouiller and Carlos López Marínfor the offense of damage to others’ property in the form of fire (attack on the Secretariat of Communications and Transport). Our comrades were sentenced to 7 years and 6 months imprisonment.

The lawyers will appeal this sentencing decision within 15 days. The sentence of the local process for attacking public peace and causing damage (attack on a Nissan dealership) has not yet been issued.

Solidarity with Carlos, Amélie and Fallon!
Freedom for Fernando and Abraham!
Down with the prison walls!
Freedom for all!

Oct 192014
 

A gesture of solidarity…

On the night of October 12th we used stones, slingshots and Molotov cocktails to sabotage two banking entities in Iztapalapa delegation of Mexico City.

Revolutionary solidarity is how we also show our support to the imprisoned comrades on hunger strike since the 1st [until the 17th] of October by attacking those responsible for this miserable everyday living. It is our response to the harassment of the comrades by guards, physicians and the staff of penitentiary institutions. So ours is a target easily identifiable and relatable to domination.

The insurrectionary anarchist perspective goes beyond the fetishism of fire or weapons. Our approach to anarchy is a struggle that has no interest in being a televised spectacle, nor need for “self-promotion” due to lack of promotion by the State. So ours is a simple and direct communication that corresponds to the requirement of the moment concerning the striking comrades; a simple and easily reproducible means.

The insurrectionary anarchist perspective is a method, often suitable for the generalization of individual and social conflict that subverts the normalcy. For insurrection as many other forms (and in their entirety) open up possibilities for a veritable revolution. An anarchist method for radical and profound change.

No mediation or dialogues with the State and the Capital!

For the struggle against all kinds of power, including the so-called Popular Power that is being sold to us as autonomy!

Oct 182014
 

On October 17th, 2014, comrades Carlos López, Mario González, Fernando Bárcenas and Abraham Cortés called off their hunger strike that began on October 1st.

The comrades are well, without complications or physical damage. They will soon make the reasons and motives for ending the strike public.

For now this is all the information we have.

Freedom for all! Down with the prison walls!

Anarchist Black Cross of Mexico

Oct 172014
 

From Act for Freedom Now!

A couple of weeks ago we wrote to Carlos who answered our questions.

 Hi comrade, how are you?

– I’m OK, without that meaning that I have become resigned and accept the reality of incarceration and the passivity of being a prisoner, one of many. Physically I’m fine, I do a bit of exercise, that’s critical so as not to sink into unnecessary depression, in fact I believe that gymnastics can control some pent-up frustrations; it helps to make me feel better and also makes me strengthen my body and walk safely inside a cage for animals where one never knows what might happen. “Catching” an intestinal infection is something normal in here, due to the “rancho” (collective food) that they give us prisoners which is often disgusting and looks terrible, at other times you can’t even guess what it is either by the smell or the by look of it. And this means that I, as good eater of “rancho”, know where the infections that appear from time to time originate.

Also, the water available to drink is not good  even though there are two purification filters that should filter it, however, the result is not optimal. The tap water is dirty and I think that depends on the area where we are (Iztapalapa) where it is all like that, as well as the fact that – obviously – for the establishment we prisoners are worth very little, and they don’t care about the hygiene of the water pipes. So it is the combination of the food and the water that produces the infections I mentioned.

As well as this, the sinusitis that I developed in here also annoys me. It’s not as frequent thanks to the comrades who have supported me with medicines, but the pain is very strong when your nose is blocked and accompanied with terrible headaches. You don’t even think of going to go to the infirmary, because they have an ethic of conduct of the kind “we will only examine if you arrive half dead or money in hand,” otherwise the wait will be a long one. On one occasion when I went to the C.O.C. doctor for him to give me some folic acid that had nothing to do with sinusitis, the woman I spoke with was very bad! And so, that’s how I am: physically nearly always OK, although my defences are lowered, but I’m trying to stay strong. I must say that when I get visits from family or comrades they bring me wonderful food and make me feel very happy. In fact I love eating and – without putting up a fight – I’ve stopped being a vegetarian.

Tell us, how did the change of attorney come about?

– The question of the attorney has been a series of surprises and vicious treatment that Fallon, Amelie and myself have had meted out to us by the administration and the federal police. I’ll take this opportunity to give a short account of that from the time we were in the Attorney General’s Office (PGR) up until when we found ourselves under federal prosecutors.

A few hours before they notified us of the change to the above court – when we were still in the PGR Camarones – they pull me out of the cell to notify me something, I don’t remember what; it was there that I saw three plane tickets before my eyes, two for the girl comrades in the direction of Nayarit prison and one for me to Matamoros.

Obviously they were going to transfer us to these federal prisons so as to put us on trial charged with: sabotage, terrorism and organized delinquency which they wanted to accuse us of at the time. An hour before taking us to the HANGLAR of the PGR to uncertain destinies, they bring me in front of the prosecutor and tell me to speak with the lawyer urgently.

As I did not manage to talk to him, I was notified that I would be transferred along with the comrades to the maximum security “Casa de Arraigo Federal” for investigations to continue. Subsequently, the comrades Amelie and Fallon were also notified, to whom I said that was good news because, in some way, we wouldn’t be split up.

It should be pointed out that although this decision was made by a judge, we never found ourselves face to face with him; which didn’t matter to us since it is a question of an authority. The journey from the PGR to the court was ridiculous. They put us – all three – in a van with about six federal police. They all held large calibre weapons like AK47s and others that I didn’t recognize, and various patrol cars followed us, all with sirens blaring.

Shortly before arriving at the federal courthouse the guy that was beside me began to “growl” aggressively things like: “We have already allowed you a lot, if you knew how much I want to smash your face in and if I don’t do it it’s because you’re with the Canadians and for now we have orders to deliver you without putting a finger on you”(I guess it was because the Mexican government is a sycophant of the Canadian government and did not want to have issues). However, if it had been up to him he would have got rid of us without anyone noticing.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared stiff at that moment. You can imagine what passes through your head at that point.

When we arrived at the court they let us out in the middle of a deployment of forces worthy of the most terrible Mexican drug traffickers. They closed two big lanes of the road and firing into the air (from what I could hear) the pigs formed a kind of cordon so that we, “the super terrorists” passed without anyone trying to liberate us.

I remember that on entering the area for being searched they pushed me up against the wall and all the personnel present told me to take off my clothes – always with the stupid order to say “yes sir, no sir” – and the humiliation of the push-ups and showing one’s ass to all and sundry began.

Fortunately they did not ask the same of the girl comrades, in fact as far as I recall were searched in private by a policewoman.

After the search they asked me what cartel (of narcotraffickers) I belonged to, whether to the Michoacana family, the Gulf cartel, Sinaloa, the Zetas and I don’t know how many others to decide where to put me; I answered simply, head down, hands behind my back, a “no sir, I do not belong to any cartel sir”. I know it was a stupid answer, but it was the only one possible at that moment.

When I got to prison I was incensed when I realised the number of cases of people under investigation that, with violence and violating their alleged individual guarantees, the police forced – through physical and psychological torture – to accept charges they knew nothing about, all for the purpose of inventing crimes.

I remember the case of a woman who was beaten and given electric shocks in the vagina so that she would accept accusations that she was forced to confess to, thereby signing up for a long prison sentence.

Despite the fact that there were no beatings inside the prison, it was pretty frustrating to spend all day locked up. We only had approximately 10 minutes between one meal and the other and then we were locked up again. Always under the gaze of the omnipresent cameras and the staff of the now extinct AFI (Federal Investigation Agency).

It was difficult to not be observed all the time in everything we did. As a kind of anecdote, on one occasion we managed to get in a pen (which is forbidden) and so I was able to write my second letter. The cops raided my cell twice but couldn’t find the pen, which made ​​them froth with rage, while the three of us would exchange mocking complicit glances.

In the end they were not able to sustain their theatricals of “terrorism” and dropped the charges with respect to federal crimes, then moved our case to the common court.

(Reclusorio Oriente)

How have you been treated in Reclusorio Oriente?

– The East Penitentiary is one of the most heavily populated prisons, at least here in Mexico City, with more than 14,000 prisoners and, as far as I know, is one of the most dangerous.

In the complex where I am held we are about 800 people in about 40 cells, or an average of 17-20 inmates to a cell. In other dormitories and complexes there come to be even more inmates in each cell, showing the overcrowding, taking into account that each cell as I see it is designed for only 6 people. Well, I’m quoting this statistical “note” just to try to answer the question of “how do they treat some of the detainees in a prison like that?” And the answer is, as a simple consequence, they are abused.

And since it is a prison, or a project of domestication and alienation aimed at all those individuals who do not accept the rules and regulations of a sick society of remote-controlled and manipulated robots, we cannot expect anything other than this: ill-treatment.

Just as there are those who have got to the point of thinking that “you make words understood by beating”, there are those who still think and believe that a “criminal” is going to regenerate in a place where he receives only ill-treatment. They come with their reintegration programs where they try to get the prisoner to study and give value to what he left outside; but the reality in here is far from that, alongside its rehabilitation projects there is the violence of the system, drugs, the dynamics of the “bandits of power,” the gradual degradation of the individual and the hatred and resentment that unconsciously starts forming in any kidnapped person.

In here, I have always identified myself as an anarchist in struggle, and this has definitely given me problems, but no more than any other prisoner, as I said earlier. For the institutions we prisoners are the scum and dead end of society and “deserve” to be treated as such: as the worst and in the worst possible way.

There are many prisoners who say the prison was worse before and now is “just a joke”, kind of accepting the current situation. This position always makes me sick, because it is precisely what the State wants; that we adapt to this “pot of misery” when we could demand much more: our freedom.

Unfortunately, as in any prison / society the individual doesn’t act until the moment he sees his interests threatened. This is something we recently experienced when a prison guard was murdered and seeing that “forbidden” items (drugs, weapons, etc. ..) continue to get in for prisoners during visits, the prison institution decided to eliminate the “cabañas” (small rooms supplied with sheets used in most cases for sexual encounters between prisoners and persons visiting) to punish prisoners and to generate a huge economic income for certain “groups” of prisoners. So, seeing their interests threatened, some prisoners are now angry with the institution to the point of organizing to prevent that happening. It ‘s just an example of what I mean.

What can you tell us about your legal situation?

– The investigations are over and we are getting there; both for the common court and the federal one. The first phase of the circus has ended. Now, if I remember correctly, the results of the trial and the sentence should arrive in two months.

And that is when, in my opinion, the second phase, which is recourse to appeal and defence, will begin. Still in my opinion, the case will be filed away and they will try to keep us a bit longer’.

I hate prison and I don’t want to remain in here, but this fucking State must try at all costs to find the accused guilty. I’ll continue with the slogan “Neither guilty nor innocent,” and I don’t care what the laws say, I just want this unnatural abduction and retention to end as soon as possible.

I bear in mind that I am not the only one on trial, there are also the comrades Amelie and Fallon, so there are points that I will not touch on out of respect for them. What I can say openly is that I will never keep quiet and will never take on the role of the victim. Regardless of what they accuse me of, I declare myself an enemy of the State and for that I will fight as much as possible.

I have noticed a number of inconsistencies in the trial, some attempts at a frameup with false police statements accusing us, and in particular those who accuse me directly, as in most of the documentation they only refer to me. I guess it’s easier for them to focus on one single defendant rather than three. I also think that in their strategic way they (the police) will try to find any evidence of my guilt and then make the connections with my comrades just to do a perfect job.

A lot could be said, but, once again I repeat, I will not out of respect for my comrades Amelie and Fallon, since I have not seen them personally for some time.

How is your mood?

– I’d have imagined it would have been easy and simple to answer such a question, but it’s not. Obviously I must be very strong and confident in what I am having to live through at the moment, and above all know that I’m not alone in this.

I have been able to see and experience comradeship and the great support of many people first hand, including some family members and many comrades of ideas and struggle, who have not moved an inch in these 8 months of prison, and are still there with their solidarity and their love, unconditionally, without asking anything in return.

But not everything is rosy, not everything is sweetness, because the deprivation of liberty involves many things and often are you filled with sadness and melancholy.

The mood varies, like outside, but with the difference that in here if you feel down you can’t just go and find a good friend or one of your family, or go and have a beer and listen to music or even go for a walk among the trees in a park, to cheer up.

In here it’s different. If you feel down you have to deal with it with your own strength, which can sometimes abandon you; grab on to memories, or if that is not enough, you can go to the phone and make some calls.

But you would like to go further, you’d like to see those you love, hug them, sit next to them and talk to them looking into their eyes, along with creating, conspiring, dreaming, laughing, kissing, among other things.

But you can’t. Visits make me feel very good, they fill me with emotions and make me come alive inside this death camp.

Reading also gives me life, the letters, leaflets and displays of solidarity of comrades.

So my mood is “good”, even though sometimes, occasionally, I feel momentarily “down.” But that’s the way things are for now, this is life.

It ‘s very difficult to admit to the sadness because usually “one” tries to prove to oneself that one is very strong and can carry on easily, but that’s not so, because as human beings we have feelings and emotions, and it is necessary to recognize them and live them.

Translated into Italian by RadioAzione and PKT

Oct 152014
 

From Contra-info

Since October 1st, 2014, four anarchist prisoners in different penitentiaries of Mexico City are on indefinite hunger strike: Carlos López Marín (“El Chivo”, held in the Eastern Prison), Mario González (in the Tepepan Medical Tower) and Fernando Bárcenas and Abraham Cortés Ávila (in the Northern Prison). You may read a common statement of the comrades and a short description of their cases here, and previous updates here.

Below is a report on their health condition on 15th day of hunger strike:

Carlos López has lost almost 7 kilos. The comrade is still separated from the general prison population, held in the newcomers’ area where he was transferred since the start of hunger strike. During the first days he was sharing a cell with another prisoner, but from October 5th he is held alone. He presents discomfort and heartburn from acid reflux, weakness and mild dizziness. They transfer him from the cell up to 4 times a day to take him to the medical service of the prison, mainly early in the morning, only to take his data and measure his blood pressure, given that the weighing scale is not working and they don’t have the necessary equipment to check the blood glucose levels. On Monday, October 13th, a nurse of the solidarity medical crew attempted to examine him, but she was denied entry for not having authorization. The sentencing of Carlos López, Amélie Pelletier and Fallon Poisson, charged with damages and attacks to public peace in the first case tried locally, is expected to be delivered in the next ten days.

Mario González faces some problems, mainly in his pancreas, as well as changes observed in the kidneys and liver during the days of hunger strike. His condition was considered as stable by a physician of the solidarity medical crew who examined him on Tuesday. He continues to present the same symptoms he had the previous days (abdominal pain, anxiety, physical debility, irritability and difficulty concentrating), except that the abdominal pain has increased. The director of the Tepepan Medical Tower has obstructed access to Mario’s medical record; the solidarian doctor gained access to the file on October 15th, and required that new laboratory tests be done. The comrade has lost about 10 kilos. He is currently awaiting resolution of an amparo petition he filed against his prison sentence.

Fernando Bárcenas has lost 3 kilos and 200 grams, while Abraham Cortés (whose conviction of 13 years and 4 months was recently upheld by an appeals court) has lost 3 kilos and 900 grams. Both comrades remain in the newcomers’ area where they have been held since their respective detentions. They are taken out of the cells for medical check several times in the early hours of the morning, so they cannot get a good night’s rest. They have restriction on phone calls.