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

What’s Happening in Turkey — From an anti-Authoritarian Perspective

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Mar 312025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

Why the current uprising in Turkey deserves our support.

Background

The Republic of Turkey, which was founded on the genocide of the Armenians in the region with a nationalist and murderous leaven, has not changed much in the past century. For non-Muslims, Kurds, Alevis and women who did not hold the majority and power in their hands, the state and its successfully constructed society were always a source of oppression. But starting in 2002, as a consequence of Erdoğan’s dictatorship, oppression, poverty, violence and exploitation started to be felt also by the majority of the society. In 2013, after increasing bans and oppressions, millions of people stood up for their freedoms in the Gezi Park riot that took place in cities all over the country. The months-long resistance ended with unprecedented national-scale police attacks in which eight young people aged 15-22 were killed and thousands detained. Since 2014, the Turkish state has become a police state, and after the 2016 fictitious coup attempt, it has been ruled with absolute authoritarianism under the state of emergency. Since 2021, as a result of the economic crisis that has escalated with great momentum, 60% of the population now lives below the hunger line.

Millions of people, forced into more misery every year, believed that the government and this situation would change in every election, but Erdoğan, who controls the media and the justice system, has never allowed this to happen through fear and manipulation. In the meantime, in order to prevent oppressed groups from coming together, he created a deep hatred within society, labeling each day a new community as terrorist-enemy-foreign agent: Kurds, Alevis, university students, syndicators, lawyers, journalists, academics. While these people were imprisoned on terrorism charges through state courts, those who were still out of prison were fooled by the propaganda that those imprisoned were terrorists. ‘Terror’ became a magic word for Erdoğan to maintain his power, while people who challenged authority ended up in prison, exile or death. In this way, he created zombified individuals and society that is losing its power day by day and collapsing politically, economically and morally. It is exactly in this context that the current uprising is being driven by the youth, who have never seen a mass uprising in their lives, but who have taken to the streets saying ‘nothing can be worse than living this way’. Millions of young people who have been brought up with the teaching that the previous rebels were terrorists and that the state and the police were friends, at least in theoretical terms, are now facing a different reality. Let us take a closer look at these protests.

Towards the 19 March ‘coup’

On the morning of 19 March 2025, hundreds of police arrested Ekrem İmamoğlu from his home – the mayor of Istanbul, who is believed to be a presidential candidate in the next election and to defeat Erdoğan- on terrorism and corruption charges. While the incident sparked widespread outrage in Turkey and around the world, Imamoğlu was not the first metropolitan mayor in Turkey to be dismissed and detained by the Turkish courts. Since 2016, many elected mayors from Kurdish cities have been dismissed, arrested and replaced by a government official in similar operations. The fact that these Kurdish mayors have been accused of these magical terrorism offenses has convinced the majority of Turkish public to legitimize this and not to oppose it. The silence against this injustice in Kurdish cities empowered Erdoğan to do the same to other mayors run by the CHP (second largest political party, turkish-nationalist centre-left) and prepared the ground for this ‘coup’ on 19 March. The detention of even this highly popular, politically powerful, rich, Turkish, Sunni, privileged man on magical terrorism charges for opposing Erdogan has caused great shock and outrage. Now the honour of being a terrorist could be awarded not only to marginalised people, but to anyone who did not take Erdoğan’s side.

While the public dissent was being destroyed a little more every year, the people who had kept silent in deference to the state, the media and the courts had now found themselves in the target list. Thus, thousands of young people who had even forgotten how to dream under poverty, restrictions and oppression, and who had not yet been labeled as terrorists, suddenly woke up from their sleep or finally exploded in anger and took to the streets in many cities across Turkey on 19 March to start protests. Although it is difficult to say that the protesters are homogeneous, it is possible to say that the majority of them are gen-z who have no previous protest experience for the reasons described above, who have not been able to get out of the fear bubble created by the government, who have been exposed to the very intense social engineering of the Turkish state through institutions such as school, media, family, etc., but who are now unable to breathe out of despair and want change. Although the detention of Ekrem İmamoğlu was a spark for these young people to take to the streets, they started to express their anger and demands on many issues by saying ‘the issue is not only about imamoğlu, have you not understood yet?’.

Encountering the state and overcoming the fear wall

Like almost every other gathering in Turkey, these protests were responded with massive violence by the police. For the first time, the protesters encountered the police, who not only wanted to disperse the crowd, but also to make everyone there pay a price for being there; who saw themselves as having the authority to punish people without the need for judgment, who were arrogant, bully, brutal, who had a personal hatred for the protesters and personal pleasure in torturing them, who were sure that they would not be held accountable for any of their violence. The protesters, who until then had regarded the police as a regular job like teaching, nursing or engineering, were unaware of how the police had become more mafia-like and monster-like every year, by hunting down ‘yesterday’s terrorists’. Thousands of youth seeing enemy law being applied to them too were brutally attacked by the police using an unbelievable amount of tear gas, rubber bullets and water cannons in one night. Faced with a massive attack, the majority of these young people did not know how to protect themselves in such an attack, how to care for each other, how to organise themselves. For some of them, responding to the police would mean being a ‘traitor’ or a ‘terrorist’, so they just froze, while a larger number, thinking that they had nothing to lose, broke the legitimacy of the police and responded to police violence with resistance. Having had the opportunity to express their anger for the first time, they covered their faces and threw everything they could at the police, danced in front of the water cannons instead of running away from them, and discovered that the power and legitimacy of the police was something that could be overcome. They did not seem to have a strategic plan for where this protest was going, nor did they seem to have a well-thought-out political consciousness. But the night was dominated by anger and a sense of having been heard for once, and this in itself was highly political, and the night ended with many injuries and arrests.

It was the first time since 2013 that there was such a massive protest with hours of resistance against the police. Although the protests were not shown on any TV channel, they were followed by many people through social media. The wall of fear was crossed for many people who realised that it was possible to oppose, to challenge the state, to rebel. The next day, more and more people took to the streets in more cities in Turkey to protest. At the same time, the Turkish state nationwide restricted the internet bands, taking minutes to upload even a ten-second video to the internet. Experienced protesters who supported the protests both at the streets and online informed people that this problem could be overcome with a VPN. And this time, the Turkish state blocked access to about 200 X accounts of journalists, legal associations, media collectives and political parties through Elon Musk. On the same day, the High Council of Radio and Television (RTÜK) prohibited any live broadcasts on TV channels. Again on the same day, although not directly related to the protests, the Board of Directors of the Istanbul Bar Association, known to oppose Erdoğan, was dismissed by a court decision.

At the same time, many lawyers from different cities who wanted to defend the detained protesters were also detained in police stations and courthouses. The number of detainees was increasing all the time, and some were ordered to be imprisoned or house arrest. The mayor, Ekrem Imamoğlu and around a hundred politicians, who had been detained the previous day, were still being questioned at the police station. All this oppression and fear did not discourage people from protesting in the streets, but only fueled it. During the protests, MPs who took the microphone and gave speeches hoping for help from the election and the law were booed. The youth were pressuring the MPs to make a call to the streets, not to the ballot box, and this was accepted. This moment itself was another threshold point because ‘calling for the streets’ had been recognised as illegitimate in the law and society fabricated by Erdoğan for years. The fact that MPs who were engaged in ‘legal’ politics dared to do so was itself quite surprising for everyone. It was as if thousands of people, one by one, were crossing the invisible wall that the whole society did not know whether it really existed or not, but no one dared to go beyond it, and they were looking around in bewilderment in this land they had never set foot in, wondering what would happen to them.

Nothing is more horrible than living this way.

Strategy of the Turkish State

Many long-established social opposition actors in Turkey made widespread calls for these protests, condemned the arrest of imamoğlu, supported the youth’s legitimate demands for justice, democracy and freedom, and stood up against police violence and bans. On the other hand, the Kurdish political movement (DEM Party), one of the strongest established actors of street protest, chose to limit its support to its high-level party leaders. Only party representatives made a symbolic visit to the centre of the protest, and released a statement declaring Imamoğlu’s detention as a coup d’état. The DEM Party’s support for such a large and widespread uprising, where ‘ordinary citizens’ were able to protest for the first time in years, could have been a game changer for the fate of the country and could have put Erdoğan in a harder position than ever before. From today’s perspective, it is not difficult to guess what was behind Erdoğan’s intention to start a peace process with the PKK in the past few weeks. However, why the DEM Party took such a stance remains a more complex question, the answer to which is left to be answered by history. Nevertheless, at this stage I think it is more important to talk about the results rather than the reasons, because the DEM Party’s distance has had two important consequences. The police on the street as well as Erdoğan in the political Arena, managed to escape from a very important threat. The participation of the DEM party and the Kurdish youth in the protest could have make Erdoğan’s job very more difficult. Compared to the Gezi Park riots, the lack of experience, resilience, organizational skills and determination that the DEM Party and Kurdish youth could have brought in the protest was clearly noticeable.

I think that if Erdoğan and his police had one single wish for this time, they would use it to keep the Kurds away from these protests. The second of the results explains this better: The absence of the Kurds as a collective in this field gave more space to the nationalist and statist tendency, which was already quite strong among the protesters. Leaving aside the argument that this is both a cause and a consequence of the absence of the DEM Party, it should be noted that this crowd, which was uniformised in terms of ethnic identity, tended to be uniformised in other issues as well, with the result that those among the protesters who struggle with an intersectional approach, such as Kurds, feminists, LGBTI+s, socialists, anarchists, animal rights defenders, etc., became even more ‘marginalised’ in the protests and were understandably hesitant to be visible with these identities, for example, to hold up a rainbow flag, for their own safety. In most cities, LGBTI+ people did not feel safe to come to the protests collectively, nor an individual queer could figure out with whom they would feel safe at the protests. If Erdoğan and his police could make a second wish, they would definitely choose to wish that an intersectional struggle would not emerge from these protests. Because intersectionality, both in terms of the number and the quality it would bring, was Erdoğan’s worst nightmare. Because the future, the sustainability and the direction of this legitimate anger that emerged in the protests and whether it would ever threaten the state or not depended on its intersectional character. As explained at length above, Erdoğan had manage to achieve his current absolute authority through his precise policy of destroying the grounds of intersectionality. There was no doubt that the joining forces of all the oppressed in these protests would benefit all the oppressed and disadvantage their common enemy. However, I regret to say that Erdoğan and his police seem to be having good luck and their two most desirable wishes are being realised in the uprising that has been taking place since 19 March.

Happening now: widespread resistance against a very violent repression

As of today, 27 March, the protests still continue with the character I mentioned above. In the past week, queers, feminists, anarchists, socialists… have made significant progress in becoming more visible and giving the protests a revolutionary character. Simultaneously, the launching of a massive boycott campaign against many government related companies caused a great panic. On the same day, seeing high-ranking government officials giving pose in boycotted companies and advertising their products in support of these companies proved once again that we were officially at war: The Turkish state criminal organisation and its capital had declared a war against everyone they perceived as a threat to their interests. Apparently, their priority was not even to arrest people in this war, but to collect data on who was on the opposing front. It was not for nothing that the police, who surrounded the demonstration at the universities yesterday, said that they would release the protesters in exchange for removing their masks. Meanwhile, several guides on personal data security posted on social media by those who have been on the streets for years have been life-saving. While Erdoğan’s professors at some universities have been sharing attendance sheets with the police to mark students who are not attending classes these days, many professors who supported the call for an academic boycott have already been dismissed from their posts. Although I have said that arrests are not the first priority, the prisons around Istanbul have reached their capacity and new detainees are expected to be sent to prisons in nearby cities. It is surprising only for those who do not know the real function of the law that dozens of people have now been arrested for the minor offense of ‘violation of the law on meetings and demonstrations’, which was not taken seriously in previous years because most of the time people did not even receive a fine as a result of the trial.

Resist queer!

The necessity to take the side of the stone thrown at the police, not the person who throws it

We are at a point where it is once again clear that the approach taught to us by classical justice system and politicians, that we should unconditionally take the side of one of those in conflict, or that the status of victim and perpetrator should be two different people/identities that are strictly separated from each other, is leading us into a trap. It is so striking to watch how so many of 16-24 year old protesters, who are ready to threaten and expel Kurds or LGBTI+s who would come to the protests with their open identities and visibility, based on the mandatory education they have received from Erdoğan’s school, media and family, become perpetrators and victims at the same time. Since 19 March, as victims of the state in this uprising, if more than 2000 people have been detained, thousands of people have been injured – some of them fatally -, dozens of people have already been put in prison, unknown numbers of people have been kicked out of their families’ homes, universities, jobs, and have been labeled as terrorists by the intelligence services, this is partly because of the power they have lost as a result of their role as perpetrators. I see that this trap has caught on among some ‘yesterday’s terrorists’ and that a significant part of them, in particular in the Kurdish political party, which have spent their lives fighting against the state are at best indifferent to the violence of the state and the justified demands of the protesters. I also interpret the lack of knowledge and the silence of the antifascist movement in Switzerland and Europe in this light. Therefore, I feel a responsibility to explain what is happening in this uprising to other rebels around the world, because explaining that the current uprising, despite its complexity, deserves international support and solidarity can only be possible with an anti-authoritarian perspective that does not fall into the trap of taking sides, which is about to disappear in Turkey. It is possible to support this uprising without victim blaming of someone for being tortured by the police and without excusing the same person as a perpetrator for attempting to suppress the Kurdish banner.

Where to place such a controversial uprising?

This uprising in Turkey still deserves to be supported, because the protesters are not only nationalist/apolitical generation z. Many queer, Kurdish, anarchist, socialist, anti-speciesist, feminist, people who believe in intersectional struggle… are raising their voices against injustice and resisting the Turkish state in the streets today as they have been doing for years. Despite their fear of the majority of protesters, they prefer to be on the streets and they are bearing a heavier share from state violence. The complexity of this uprising means that they need support more than ever. Backing this uprising is essential for them to come out of it with some regained ground or at least without being further pushed back. This uprising in Turkey still deserves to be supported because, one by one, the protesters, even if they harbour counter-revolutionary ideas, are legitimate in what they are revolting against, and this is what determines the legitimacy of an uprising: The organs and policies of the Turkish state, symbolised by Erdoğan. It does not matter that the majority of protesters want the dictator Erdoğan to fall and be replaced by the nationalist Imamoğlu. Today, we can stand shoulder to shoulder in the fight to bring down Erdoğan and tomorrow, we can part ways when the demand is to replace him with İmamoğlu. Once we have destroyed the biggest existing power, then we will fight to destroy the second biggest power, and then the third, until there is no power above us. This anarchist point of view calls for the support of any threat to Erdoğan, his state, his police, his judiciary. Criticism of these protests shouldn’t serve to isolate the uprising, but rather to inform the debates that will follow if it succeeds.

This uprising in Turkey still deserves to be supported because a dictator is using all the power and resources of the Turkish state, which has become a ‘criminal organisation’, to massacre people who do not have these power and resources, regardless of who they are. Not only protesters, but also their lawyers, journalists documenting torture, doctors treating the wounded at the protests, those who speak out about it, those who open their doors to people affected by the tear gas, anyone who is not in absolute obedience is now being punished. In the Turkey of 2025, where the state controls all private and public aspects of life and all our potential support is dismantled, Erdoğan surviving this uprising would mean leaving everyone who has ever questioned his authority locked in a burning building. This might be the first, only, and last chance we’ve had in years to act against Erdoğan’s power. That’s why any support for this uprising or any blow struck against its target, the Turkish state carries vital significance. This uprising in Turkey still deserves to be supported because for those who do not hold power and the majority, women, Kurds, Alevis, queers, the poor, youth, immigrants, ‘yesterday’s terrorists’, the first step toward breathing, being heard, and gaining freedom is the collapse of the current order. This uprising in Turkey still deserves to be supported, because this may be the last chance for us ‘yesterday’s terrorists’, who have already been imprisoned and forced into exile for rebelling for years, to see the daylight again in the country we were born.

Statement On Arrest, Police Raid and Dropped Charges

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Mar 112025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

On October 23rd, 2024, at 6:50 AM, I was arrested by the SPVM (Service de police de la Ville de Montréal) for allegedly “uttering threats to burn or damage property”. They forced their way into my apartment, and several pieces of my technology were seized. I was interrogated for hours, pushed to the edge, but despite the state’s efforts, the Crown Prosecutor ultimately failed to gather enough evidence to move forward with any charges, even before a pre-trial was conducted. This is a victory, not just for me, but for all those fighting within the movement, and the broader militant community. The sudden dropping of charges is a clear reflection of the over-policing, over-surveillance, that militants within our movement have been experiencing since the huge surge of Pro-Palestine organizing. My arrest came after a wave of repression that occurred across so-called “Canada”, with house raids being issued against militants in Toronto and the sanctioning of Samidoun, a Palestinian Prisoner Solidarity Network. It is clear, that my arrest was apart of a broader strategy to intimidate and demobilize us, to fracture the solidarity and resistance we’re attempting to build. They believed by targeting individuals could disrupt our efforts. But they failed.

What repression at this level does mentally is difficult to explain unless you’ve experienced it firsthand. I’m still attempting to find the correct words as I write this. The emotional and psychological toll is immense. The guilt of “being caught”, of sucking up the little resources we barely have and the overall shame still hangs over me. The weight of knowing you’ve been watched, followed, and targeted takes a toll that is far beyond the physical. The trauma of being detained, interrogated, and silenced for so long leaves scars that don’t just vanish with the dropping of charges. I could not speak publicly until now as legal conditions had restricted me, furthering the violence imposed by the state. For months, my ability to express myself was controlled, and it left me completely powerless.

Repression can provoke a range of reactions that only escalate an already fragile situation. Historically, the tactics used by the police to destabilize movements often lead people to act in ways that harm both those who are arrested and the broader community. It fosters distrust, wastes time on petty conflicts, and diverts attention from our true adversaries. When unchecked egos and harmful behaviour take hold, they inadvertently play into the hands of the state and its goals. Our movement is built on trust—without it, we have nothing, and repression triumphs. In the future, I hope that, alongside thinking about what’s best for the movement, we also consider empathy. I hope we can prioritize creating a community that supports arrestees, without infantilizing them or dismissing them based on the misguided assumption that they are “too traumatized” to make sound decisions.

The overwhelming majority of the community supported me without hesitation. I express my deepest gratitude to those who stood by me through this ordeal. To those who brought me groceries, helped put my life back together or gave me a shoulder to cry on — you are the reason I am standing here today. You saved me during the darkest period of my life. Your support was not just a comfort— it was a life line. Without your help, I would not have survived. 

Let me be clear: the movement is far from over. The charges being dropped does not mean that this is the end. This is proof of our collective resilience, it is a sign that the state’s efforts to repress us were in vain. What happened to me is not an isolated incident, but a testament to the overall strength among us all. Repression is a temporary setback, a minor bump on the road, not a nail in the coffin. It will not stop us. It will only fuel us.

We will not be broken. We will keep fighting. We will continue to build a movement grounded in solidarity and resistance. The work we do is far from finished, and this experience will only strengthen our resolve to keep pushing forward. I hope my story, can be seen not as some cautionary tale but rather a ray of hope that there is a life after repression. The threat of jail time, being kicked out of school, losing your job, is not the end, it’s the beginning of the next chapter in our fight.

The black flag is at full mast.

In resistance, in love and in rage,

Call to Action Against the Canadian Mining Company Aclara: #FueraMineraAclara

 Comments Off on Call to Action Against the Canadian Mining Company Aclara: #FueraMineraAclara
Feb 272025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

In the Spanish-language document annexed below, the campaign identifies Aclara’s Canadian mailing address as 666 Burrard Street, Suite 1700, in Vancouver, BC. In addition, the University of Toronto has cooperated with the company on research.

We want the hills of Penco free from extractivism.

Communities from Penco, Lirqué, Tomé and surrounding areas have been struggling against a rare earth mining project for more than ten years.

It was called Biolantánidos at first, now Minera Aclara.

We intend to revitalize this struggle against these death facilities, inform communities about its dangers and consequences, and to weave active networks. For this reason, together with collectives and movements in defense of the hills of Penco, we’ve created the #FueraMineraAclara campaign, in circulation across alternative media, free radios and newsites from Abya Yala (the so-called American continent) and the planet.

Against a strong intervention from this corporation over Penco, resistance continues within a community that loves, values and coexists with the natural environment, generating a continued land defense, versus the military and technological interests of global power and devastation companies.

Currently Penco is in the sight of global extractivism. The Aclara Resource company, publicly traded in Toronto, would offer the US and Canada rare earth production levels competitive to China, after two extraction facilities are built, one in Penco (Chile) and another in Goiás (Brazil).

We call everyone to join this campaign with activities, propaganda, talks, graffiti, rallies and everything within our imaginations, to stop the destruction of the hills of Penco. This is only the start of an extractivist vanguard looking for rare earths in the South.

Join us and together we’ll defend the forests and hills of Penco.

#FueraMineraAclara

We want the hills of Penco free from extractivism.

More information at: lazarzamora.cl

ANNEX:

MINERA ACLARA: Tierras Raras, geopolítica y extracción en Abya Yala*

Minera Aclara, es un proyecto impulsado por la empresa REE UNO SPA, hoy presentada como ACLARA Resources, en el que se pretende extraer Tierras Raras desde dos módulos, uno en los cerros de Penco, territorio ocupado por el estado chileno y en Goiás, territorio brasilero. Las tierras raras son un conjunto de 17 minerales principalmente utilizados para el armamentismo y la industria tecnológica (baterías, autos eléctricos de lujo, turbinas eólicas, etc.) todo lo que se vende hoy como tecnologías verdes. Estas tecnologías, que no son de uso masivo, sino de las industrias, las élites militares y económicas, se sostienen en base a la extracción de materias primas de Abya Yala y otros territorios, que han enfrentado históricamente la colonización por parte de las potencias mundiales. Actualmente Penco y Goiás son territorios que se encuentran en el ojo mundial del extractivismo, representando un punto estratégico en la guerra por el control de la producción de estas sustancias.

El proyecto que se pretende instalar en Penco, consiste en tres zonas de extracción de Tierras Raras, que consisten en minas de tajo abierto que tendrán un diámetro aproximado de 45 hectáreas, lo que equivale a 45 canchas de futbol y una profundidad de entre 40 a 60 metros, que es donde se encuentran las concentraciones de estos minerales. Por otra parte el módulo que pretenden instalar en Goiás, comprende un área expansible de 1500 hectáreas.

¿Qué sabemos de la extracción de Tierras Raras?

Por años China ha tenido el control de la extracción de las tierras raras, generando más del 95% de la producción mundial de esta aleación de minerales. Un terrible ejemplo de las consecuencias de esta industria, fue lo que sucedió en Baotou, el mayor proveedor de Tierras Raras en el mundo, en donde un antiguo pastizal fue convertido en un lago tóxico de residuos del proceso de extracción “compuesto por un cóctel de ácidos, metales pesados, carcinógenos y material radiactivo utilizado para procesar los 17 minerales más buscados en el mundo” [1]

Pero este monopolio está siendo amenazado por otras potencias del capital: EEUU y Canadá, quienes pretenden competir contra China para controlar la extracción de tierras raras. Es ahí donde los territorios de Abya Yala, desde la mirada colonialista de estos dos países, aparecen como proveedores fundamentales para llevar a cabo este plan, al igual que Boutu lo fue para China. Actualmente la empresa Minera Aclara, se muestra hacia el exterior como una alternativa “sustentable” al mercado extractivista Chino, y pretende competir contra el control chino a partir de la extracción de Tierras Raras en Goiás, Brasil y en Penco, $hile.

En $hile sólo en la región del Biobío, la empresa Aclara Resourse ha obtenido derechos de agua de Penco Tomé y Florida [2], así como también concesiones de exploración minera en 24.300 hectáreas sólo en Florida (39% de la comuna), con un total de 27.000 hectáreas constituidas en diferentes territorios y 23.500 hectáreas en tramitación, sumando a territorios como: Santa Juana, Concepción, Tomé, Chiguayante, Hualqui, Ranquil y Quillón. Durante el mes de noviembre del 2024 Minera Aclara

por medio de su director general Ramón Barúa, anunció el aumento de estas exploraciones, tras una millonaria subvención entregada por la CORFO (Corporación de fomento de la producción) a la empresa para “desarrollar tecnología de exploración utilizando modelos de inteligencia artificial”[3] la cual consiste ni mas ni menos que en US $730.000.

En Brasil, Aclara busca extraer 191 toneladas de minerales desde el yacimiento Carina, ubicado en Nova Roma al noreste del estado de Goiás, en la zona central de Brasil. Esta cantidad representa el 13% de la producción de China. Actualmente este proyecto también se encuentra en proceso de evaluación y según la empresa, este 2025 tras seguir una serie de pasos, entregarían su Estudio de Impacto Ambiental. El módulo Carina, sería de mayor proporción que el de los cerros de Penco.

¿Quienes son los dueños de Aclara Resourse?

Aclara Resources es una empresa inscrita en la bolsa de valores de Toronto, Pero ha pasado por muchas manos. El año 2011 se constituyó en $hile la Sociedad REE Uno Spa, creada por ex asesor de la sub secretaría del medio ambiente del primer gobierno de Piñera, Manuel José Barros Lecaros. Para el 2012 los únicos accionistas eran Barros Lecaros y el Fondo de inversión privado Lantánidos. En este momento la firma inscribe 200 mil hectáreas de tierra para la posible explotación minera en $hile, repartidas entre las regiones del Maule, Ñuble, Biobío y La Araucanía.

Posteriormente la firma incorporó capitales extranjeros del grupo Hochschild, de origen peruano, con casa matriz en Londres. El año 2018 este grupo pasa a ser el dueño de la empresa tras adquirir el 93,8% de las acciones y con esto el control de REE Uno Spa.

El año 2021 Hochschild Mining transfirió la propiedad de REE Uno Spa desde Londres, por medio de un paraíso fiscal, a la bolsa de valores de Toronto, Canadá, donde es manejada por Aclara Resouce.

Posteriormente, según informó el periódico Resumen.cl en abril del 2024, la empresa anunció que el grupo CAP (anteriormente a cargo de la siderúrgica chilena Huachipato, cerrada por ellos mismos recientemente) paso a ser propietario de un 20% de REE Uno Spa, quedando como “subsidiaria a cargo del proyecto que pretende instalarse en los cerros de Penco”. Esto sucedió meses antes del cierre de Huachipato, hecho que fue aprovechado por el ampresariado chileno y el estado para levantar el llamado “Plan de Fortalecimiento Industrial” que califica al proyecto de extracción de tierras raras de Aclara Resource como prioritario.[4]

Esta maraña de traspasos, se podría resumir finalmente en que la empresa siempre ha sido REE Uno Spa, que el grupo Hochschild es el accionista mayoritario, que las empresas accionistas como CAP quedan en vinculación con Hochschild y todos los proyectos mineros que estos se encuentran desarrollando en relación a las tierras raras y que REE Uno Spa está siendo operada por medio de Aclara Resouce desde Toronto.

Las personas que hoy están manejando este proyecto

Hochschild actualmente es manejado por Eduardo Hochschild, presidente, mayor accionista y heredero del conglomerado (que se origina en 1911). También es presidente de Cementos Pacasmayo S.A.A., Director del Banco de Crédito del Perú y Presidente del Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Lima.

En el directorio compuesto por 8 directores y un secretario, llama la atención la participación de Tracey Kerr, directora no ejecutiva independiente, que ha sido parte de múltiples exploraciones mineras. Fue jefa de exploración de la firma Angloamerican, liderando exploraciones en 15 países, entre ellos $hile, en donde esa empresa ya tiene conflictos ambientales, como el de minera Los Bronces Integrado, por dañar y contaminar irreparablemente glaciares. Así mismo, Kerr es directora no ejecutiva de antofagast PLC. del grupo Lucksic dedicada a la extracción de cobre.

Respecto a Aclara Resource, en enero del 2025 la empresa nombró como director nacional para Brasil a Murilo Nagato, quien fue bienvenido por el actual director general de Aclara en Chile: Ramón Barúa, quien anteriormente era el director financiero del grupo Hochschild.

A su vez, en $hile quien representa a la empresa en su cometido de persuadir a la comunidad de Penco es Nelson Donoso, gerente general de la minera, que asume el cargo tras la renuncia de Rodrigo Ceballos (en medio del rechazo generalizado de Penco y Lirquén al proyecto). Donoso es también director de la Cámara de Producción y Comercio Biobío y parte del directorio del CFT (Centro de Formación Técnica) Estatal Región del Biobío. A Nelson Donoso lo acompañan un equipo de “profesionales” jóvenes al momento de confrontar a la comunidad. En este sentido Fernando Illanes, gerente de valor social, es un personaje ya reconocido y participe de las estrategias de intervención social y comunitaria de la minera.

LXS ANIMALES…

Animales que sufrirían las consecuencias en Penco:

Las zonas de extracción y la de deposición, alterarán profundamente las rutas de traslado y movimiento del Pudú, y con esto dañarían sus procesos de alimentación y reproducción. Este mismo efecto se vería en otros animales altamente vulnerables gracias al antropocentrismo, entre los cuales encontramos Pumas, Güiñas y Monitos del Monte. En el lugar también habitan aves como el Chucao, Cherkán, Fiofío, Sietecolores, Lechuzas, Buhos, entre otros, además de ser zona de flujo y descanzo de miles de aves costeras. De igual manera, podemos encontrar reptiles como la Lagartija de Shroeder y la Rana Rosacea de Hojarasca.

Animales que sufrirían las consecuencias en Goiás:

La instalación de Módulo Carina alterará el habitat de múltiples especies. En esta zona se verán afectados animales endémicos como los zorros de campo, el armadillo potepeute del norte, actualmente en estado de vulnerabilidad, culebras como la Anilius Scytale, el Mico estrella, y peces como el Caballo de la Vea y Corydoras Aeneus, entre otros.

PRESENCIA EN DISTINTOS PAÍSES

En Penco, Región de biobío, $hile, la empresa instaló una sede que llaman “Casa Aclara” ubicada en calle Las Heras 565, a una cuadra de la plaza de Penco, utilizada para lavar su imagen y generar estrategias de intervención comunitaria.

De igual manera, la empresa instaló una planta que llaman “Centro demostrativo”, ubicada en San Pedro de La Paz, específicamente en el KM 10 del camino a Coronel, en la bodega 8 C y D, en donde la empresa aparte de experimentar con el proceso que llama hipócritamente “Cosecha Circular de Minerales”, hace recorridos a grupos de personas (como forma de intervención y persuasión social). En declaraciones la firma ha anunciado que en esta planta se procesarán arcillas traídas desde el Módulo Carina desde Brasil.

Sus oficinas publicadas son en Santiago, $hile, Av. Cerro el Plomo 5630, Piso 15 Las Condes. En Belo Horizontesus oficinas parecen ubicadas enRua Bernardo Guimarães, 245, 8º andar, sala 701 Funcionários, Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais, CEP 30140-080, Brasil. Y como la firma es manejada desde Canadá, en su página figura la dirección Suite 1700, 666 Burrard Street, Vancouver, British Columbia, V6C 2X8, Canadá.

El grupo Hochschild Mining, dueño de Aclara Resource, registra en la dirección 21 Gloucester Place, London, W1U 8HR, United Kingdom. En Perú en Calle La Colonia No. 180 Urb. El Vivero de Monterrico, Santiago de Surco, Lima 15023. En Argentina en Av. Santa Fe 2755 piso 9 (C1425BGC) Capital Federal y en Brasil en Rua Antônio de Albuquerque 330 sala 601, Savassi Belo Horizonte Minas Gerais – CEP: 30112-010.

La empresa mantiene cooperación con la Universidad de Toronto, Canadá, debido a su inscripción en la bolsa de valores de dicha ciudad. En Chile mantienen alianzas con la Universidad San Sebastián, Universidad de Concepción e Inacap.

La extracción de Tierras Raras es continuidad del colonialismo y de la devastación capitalista. Hoy la extracción de estas sustancias es la base para la reproducción del capitalismo verde y su falsa sustentabilidad que no es más que muerte, armamentismo, control y especismo.

#FUERAMINERAACLARA

Fuera capitalismo verde de Abya Yala

Liberación Animal y de la Tierra ahora.

1 https://www.news.com.au/travel/destinations/asia/baotou-is-the-worlds-biggest-supplier-of-rare-earth-minerals-and-its-hell-on-earth/news-story/371376b98934949cc77d242ca12bc5

2 https://resumen.cl/articulos/florida-penco-y-tome-las-comunas-donde-minera-de-tierras-raras-concentra-derechos-de-aguas

3 https://resumen.cl/articulos/director-general-de-minera-de-tierras-raras-anuncia-que-empresa-continuaria-realizando-exploraciones-para-nuevos-proyectos

4 https://resumen.cl/articulos/la-navidad-de-las-empresas-tras-dejar-caer-a-huachipato-grupo-cap-adquirira-acciones-de-minera-de-tierras-raras

Solidarity Collectives – Call for Action week – February 24 – 3 march

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Jan 302025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

Dear comrades and friends,

As we enter the fourth year of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the urgency to act has never been greater. The situation grows increasingly dire, with the toll of the war deepening both on the battlefield and within the fabric of Ukrainian society. So today we need your voices, your solidarity, and your actions to amplify our actions for justice and resistance.

From 24 February we call on all our friends, partners and all anti-authoritarian groups in all parts of the world for a week of action! We encourage you to organize rallies, fundraisers, and public events that draw attention to the Ukrainian resistance struggle against Russian imperialism.

Whether it’s a public demonstration, a direct action the case (https://www.vice.com/en/article/russian-mansion-occupied-police-cost/) of squatting in a Russian oligarch’s mansion inspires us), a music concert, a movie screening or an art exhibition, a fundraising campaign or a panel discussion, your efforts are vital to keep Ukrainians’ struggle visible and supported.

The topic of the Russian shadow fleet and its environmental impact or international security challenges could be topics of such discussions. You could paint graffiti in the street of your city and send us a picture of it or even make a series of photos. We would be grateful for any kind of participation.

The alarming rise of far-right movements around the world demands that we stand together to counter these forces to fight imperialism and oppression. Supporting Ukrainians fighting Russian imperialism should be one of the priorities of the anti-authoritarian movement, and this goes hand in hand with supporting all refugees and immigrants in the West.

We believe that we should exchange practices and ideas internationally in order to develop our common struggles. And our team is ready to participate in your events, exchange knowledge, discuss difficult issues and assist in any way we can to make your initiatives impactful. Together, we can build a global network of solidarity that echoes beyond borders and languages.

Solidarity Collectives
https://www.solidaritycollectives.org

Water, Land, and Freedom: My Journey Through a Decade of Pipeline Resistance on the Yintah and Beyond

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Jan 202025
 

From It’s Going Down

Franklin Lopez looks back on grassroots movement media and the creation of the documentary film, Yintah.

In the summer of 2011, I was exhausted—physically, mentally, creatively. I’d just finished hauling my feature film, END:CIV, across North America, and when I got back to Vancouver, I didn’t even have a place to sleep. So, I did what many DIY filmmakers do: I moved into my van.

That’s when I got an invitation that would change everything: the Unist’ot’en Clan asked me to bring my film to their territory. I piled a crew of anarchist friends into my old camper van, and we headed north to the Wet’suwet’en yintah (land). At the time, I had no clue I was stepping onto ground zero for a legendary fight against pipelines.

Turns out, the Wet’suwet’en were gearing up to resist thirteen proposed oil and gas pipelines crossing their unceded lands—projects like the Pacific Trails fracked-gas pipeline and Enbridge’s Northern Gateway tar sands line. “The Wet’suwet’en” in those days basically meant three people: Freda Huson, Toghestiy (now known as Chief Dini Ze Smogelgem), and Mel Bazil, all determined to protect the Wedzin Kwa River from potential pipeline ruptures. Once I tasted that ice-cold water straight from the river, I understood exactly why they were putting everything on the line.

We started off screening END:CIV in Witset (then Moricetown) and Smithers, the nearby settler town. At the time, a major focus of my film work was decolonization and climate change—so the timing couldn’t have been better. Like many informed people, I believed that if we didn’t halt oil and gas production, our planet would face catastrophic climate chaos. Coming from a family of Boricua anti-colonial fighters, I also found it easy to connect with my new friends on the territory. Then my crew and I headed deeper into the bush to attend an action camp at Unist’ot’en Camp. Back then, it was just one cabin built squarely on the proposed Pacific Trails pipeline route—a bold statement that no pipeline would pass without resistance. Little did we know the strategy sessions in that tiny cabin would spark a movement that would eventually shake Canada to its core.

Documenting Resistance: Oil Gateway and the Early Days

During that first visit, I started filming. I talked with Freda, Toghestiy, and Mel, capturing some of the earliest footage from Unist’ot’en Camp. Those interviews would form part of my short doc, Oil Gateway, which laid out the bigger picture: the tangle of pipelines threatening so-called British Columbia. At the time, subMedia, my anarchist media project, was basically just me, operating on the principle of “rapid release and share.” In other words, frontline struggles need their story told right now, not stashed away for some festival circuit months or years down the road.

After another grueling year of grassroots touring (read: sleeping on couches and eating from dumpsters) END:CIV around Australia, Aotearoa (New Zealand), and Europe, I promised to return to the yintah. By 2012, the Unist’ot’en Camp had grown from that one cabin into a bustling center for resistance. I was humbled to see around 150 people attend the action camp, with many mentioning they first learned about Unist’ot’en through Oil Gateway. It was clear that pipelines were choke points in the fossil fuel machine, and documenting the fight to stop them became my obsession. So I released a second short doc, The Action Camp, showing how Unist’ot’en was evolving into a force to be reckoned with.

Planting the Seeds of Yintah the Film

In 2012, I met filmmaker Sam Vinal of Mutual Aid Media, who was already passionate about the Unist’ot’en struggle. He wanted to make a full-length doc, but my style—rapid release and share —didn’t mesh with the slower festival and grant world. Sam, along with his then-partner, Alexandra Kotcheff, decided to immerse themselves in the yintah, filming extensively at Unist’ot’en. That laid the groundwork for what would become Yintah the film —and kicked off a decade-long collaboration between me and Sam.

Meanwhile, I moved to Montreal and started documenting the movement against oil and gas pipelines in eastern Canada. I teamed up with Amanda Lickers of Reclaim Turtle Island to produce a film exposing the pipeline threats in the region. While covering a Mi’kmaq anti-fracking blockade in Elsipigtog, New Brunswick, I witnessed the lengths the Canadian state would go to shield private extractive projects and trample Indigenous sovereignty. The violent RCMP raid gave me a glimpse of things to come on the yintah but also gave me hope, as hundreds of supporters descended on Elsipigtog to support the anti-fracking fight, and eventually the fracking company pulled out. During that time, I crossed paths with producer Andrea Schmidt from Al Jazeera—a coincidence that turned out to be huge later on.

In 2014, I was back at Unist’ot’en with Amanda Lickers, interviewing Freda and Toghestiy. During that trip, I also met Michael Toledano, a Vice News stringer reporting on the unfolding resistance. In the footage we captured, Freda made a statement that turned out to be prophetic: if the Canadian government attacked, allies would rise up to shut down Canada.

AJ+ and Going Viral

Soon afterward, Andrea Schmidt, now at AJ+, asked me to produce a short documentary on the Wet’suwet’en fight. I got approval from the camp and went back to film. That short documentary reached over a million viewers on Facebook, further helping thrust the Unist’ot’en Camp into the international spotlight. It included a powerful moment where Freda confronted an Enbridge executive, telling her they did not have consent to build their pipeline. Soon after, Enbridge’s Northern Gateway pipeline quietly died.

In 2015, I got a frantic message from Michael Toledano, The RCMP had rolled up on the Unist’ot’en bridge. One of my best friends was getting married that weekend, but he understood when I told him, “Dude, I have to go.” I scrambled to get a plane ticket and headed north. After seeing Michael’s footage, I urged the Unist’ot’en women to post it immediately. Rapid release and share! They agreed, and I edited the video on the spot—it blew up online. Overnight, the RCMP faced widespread backlash and backed off—for a while.

Later that year, I produced Holding Their Ground, a follow-up AJ+ documentary that netted nine million views on Facebook alone. This documentary featured a previously published viral clip of Chevron execs being turned away at the Unist’ot’en bridge, proving that front-line footage can be released in real time and still have a major impact later. This footage is also featured in our film INVASION as well as in Yintah.

Naval resistance in the west, shutting down pipelines in the east.

While on that trip out west, I got a call from an anarchist comrade, telling me that Tsimshians on the coast needed some visibility for their fight to stop a liquefied natural gas (LNG) port from being built on their waters. I jumped at the opportunity, and while visiting their camp, I captured powerful images of Tsimshian fishermen blocking Petronas workers from conducting survey work. The Tsimshians continued their fight, and by 2017 the LNG project was dead.

This was a very special time, and it felt like we were riding a wave. My partner was several months pregnant, and she and I organized a series of events in Montreal featuring Freda, Toghestiy, and Felipe Uncacia, an Indigenous leader from Colombia. We also took advantage of this trip to connect them to Kanienkeha’ka (Mohawk) communities in the region, including stops in Kanehsatà:ke, Kahnawake, and Akwesasne.

Then that December I filmed an action in Quebec: activists physically shut down an Enbridge pipeline by turning its valve and locking themselves to it. That video went viral, inspiring similar coordinated valve-turning actions in the U.S. that halted a huge chunk of oil flowing south from Canada.

The following year, my child was born. Watching this tiny, noisy being taking his first breaths made me reflect on the kind of world I was bringing him into. Stepping away from the struggle wasn’t an option—I had to stay in the ring and keep fighting against colonialism and capitalism for his future and ours.

2019: The RCMP Raids and a Movement Under Siege

By late 2018, the Gidim’ten Clan asserted their right to control access to their territory, meaning no Coastal GasLink (CGL) workers could pass. I teamed up with Sam Vinal and Michael Toledano to find more filmmakers to document this pivotal moment. At subMedia, now a collective of four, we churned out videos and agitation clips and video updates in solidarity with the Wet’suwet’en.

Led by Molly Wickham, Gidim’ten land defenders and anarchists set up a checkpoint to stop CGL vehicles. The RCMP responded with paramilitary-style force, armed with semi-automatic rifles, arresting Molly and several others. Fearing a similar outcome, the Unist’ot’en leadership took down their blockade. It was heartbreaking to watch, and Sam and Michael filmed every moment.

That spring, after 25 years of subMedia, I needed a break. I was burned out, broke, and bummed out. I took my family west, and we visited Gidimt’en and Unist’ot’en, where the sight of cops and pipeline workers on once-autonomous land really sank my spirits. That’s when I got the idea to launch Amplifier Films, a new project dedicated to uplifting anti-colonial and anti-capitalist movements across Turtle Island. Around then, Sam and Michael decided to merge their footage to finish the film that had been percolating for years. Freda asked me to edit, and the timing was perfect. That fall, we produced INVASION, a short doc about the daily reality at Unist’ot’en under growing RCMP and CGL pressure. I edited INVASION at Amplifier Films in Montreal, reusing some of the best bits from my AJ+ docs and subMedia clips, including a tense confrontation between Tilly (a St’át’imc woman) and Prime Minister Trudeau.

We released INVASION online right as Freda declared that CGL workers had to vacate the territory or risk being blocked. The doc became a key tool for organizers prepping for another big clash with the police. It also premiered in Hot Docs and other prestigious festivals, despite being freely available online for months. Which just goes to show: rapid release and sharing is what movements need most.

Sure enough, raids began once again, culminating in a full-on assault on Unist’ot’en in early 2020. The footage of the RCMP tearing down the gate and arresting Freda and other defenders was intense. But it sparked a massive wave of solidarity actions across Canada. Soon after, Mohawks in Tyendinaga blocked CN Rail lines, kicking off “Shutdown Canada” as railways, highways, and ports were barricaded by anarchists and allies in solidarity with Wet’suwet’en. It was a watershed moment for Indigenous-led resistance.

Making Yintah and Reaching the Breaking Point

Riding that wave of momentum, Sam and I took Yintah to the Big Sky Film Festival in Missoula, Montana. We pitched it to a live audience and secured our first round of funding—enough to produce materials for bigger grants. Then COVID hit, but we pressed on, cutting a trailer and rough scenes for potential funders. Despite having a decade’s worth of incredible footage, we struggled to find backing.

That’s when Montreal’s Eyesteelfilm came on board. Known for their award-winning docs, they loved our trailer and partnered with us to help secure funding and a CBC broadcast deal. We also asked two Wet’suwet’en women—Jen Wickham and Brenda Michel—to join the team, following the principle of “Narrative Sovereignty,” so that Wet’suwet’en voices could help shape every stage of the film.

By fall 2021, we’d raised over our budget goals for Yintah, and I was in the thick of editing. We had more than 1,000 hours of footage spanning a decade. Meanwhile, new images kept rolling in—Coyote Camp rose up with the help of anarchists. CGL equipment was commandeered and roads were destroyed and blocked. Haudenauseane allies from out east travelled to the yintah to join the fight. Then the RCMP launched another brutal raid, and Molly Wickham, Michael Toledano, and others were arrested. I spent a weekend trying to bail Michael out and make sure the footage didn’t vanish into the RCMP’s hands.

Around this time, following hit pieces in far-right media outlets, the Alberta government launched a petition asking Canadians to complain to the CBC about my involvement in Yintah because I identify as an anarchist. Despite it all, we hit our production milestones. In spring 2022, we returned to Wet’suwet’en territory for a consultation where members of Gidimt’en and Unist’ot’en reviewed the scenes. By June, I had a four-hour assembly edit and a story document. A ten-minute sequence I edited even won an award at Cannes, and we got invited to True/False’s rough-cut weekend to get feedback from industry pros.

But the unrelenting pressure eventually took its toll and our dedicated team was submerged in conflictual tensions. Panic attacks, brutal insomnia, and not being there for my family forced me to make one of the toughest calls of my career: after three years on Yintah, I quit.

Reflections, Redemption, and Moving Forward

I spent the next couple of years in a dark place, hit by slanderous rumors about my departure and uncertain about ever picking up a camera again. Then, in spring 2024 right as Yintah was premiering at True/False—I found myself freezing my 52 years old ass off at another blockade, camera rolling, helping an Indigenous community in so-called Quebec document their fight against destructive logging. And once again, the rapid share & release footage proved useful in defending the land.

That fall, I finally got to watch Yintah. I was thrilled to see so much of the editing I’d done remain in place, including the Shutdown Canada sequence (what my friends call “Yintah’s subMedia moment”) set to The Halluci Nation’s “Landback.” A lot of the overall structure still followed the story outline I’d left behind. Its reach blew my mind: Netflix picked it up for North America, Canadians can watch it free on YouTube (VPNs work too), and it even got pirated on YTS! For a movement doc, that’s about as mainstream as it gets.

The scope of this whole saga is still jaw-dropping. A small cabin at Unist’ot’en grew into a global symbol of Indigenous sovereignty, standing against a massive corporate onslaught. But the fight isn’t over—with Coastal GasLink completed, Land defenders continue to face state repression and Canada has approved more pipelines to cross Wet’suwet’en yintah, and other neighboring Indigenous territories.

As for me, I’m pouring my energy into Amplifier Films. One of our first projects is “A Red Road to the West Bank,” which tells the story of Oka Crisis vet Clifton Ariwakehte Nicholas during his trip to Palestine. Our goal is to explore the similarities between the plight of the Palestinians and that of Indigenous people in Turtle Island. Stay tuned for that.

Ultimately, this story is bigger than pipelines. It’s about land, future generations, and what it means to be free. The Wet’suwet’en have shown the world what unwavering resistance looks like—anarchists have demonstrated the power of solidarity, and it’s on all of us to keep that flame alive.

Postscript: Yintah Missing Credits

There are a number of people who helped with Yintah who were not listed in the credits, but whose free labor, particularly at the beginning when we had no cash, was priceless.

Cybergeek Antoine Beaupré for his creation of the custom software video-proxy-magic, which allowed me to crunch 80TB of video into a 5TB drive while keeping the folder structure intact. This helped us share all the footage with the other producers and assistant editors without having to spend thousands on large hard drive arrays.

Many thanks to the post-production interns from the University of the West of England Bristol who helped us organize footage during the early days: Charlotte Butler Blondel, Robert Henman, and George Willmott. Also, much gratitude to Stephen Presence of the Radical Film Network for connecting them with me. A shout-out as well to Marius Fernandes, who did a short stint as an assistant editor.

Ryan Hurst was the first editor for Yintah a few years before this incarnation. A few of his sequences made it in the final film and I rebuilt a lot of his edit projects when doing the footage review.

Big ups to Macdonald Stainsby—he is thanked in the credits, but it should be known that his work in connecting Freda, Toghestiy, and Mel to other troublemakers like me was invaluable. His anti–tar sands organizing and his critiques of environmental NGOs had a huge influence on my work.

Finally, I want to extend my deepest thanks to all the anarchists and anti-authoritarians who poured so much of themselves into this struggle. Your tireless solidarity—often at great personal risk—helped propel the fight farther than anyone imagined. We couldn’t have come this far without you.

Thank you for reading and for standing with the Wet’suwet’en and Indigenous communities everywhere defending their homelands.

Report from Montreal’s NYE Noise Demo

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Jan 202025
 

From From Embers

A discussion with two organizers of this year’s New Year’s Eve noise demo in Laval. We discuss how things went, prisoner solidarity organizing in Montreal, the value of noise demos as an anarchist tactic and tradition, and where we might go from here. 

Thanks to CKUT Prison Radio for the live footage.

Links:

Video from Clash MTL

Report from 2025 Hamilton Noise Demo

Seven Years Against Prison: On the practice of noise demos outside of prisons in Southern Ontario (pdf link)

It’s Going Down Roundup of 2025 NYE Noise Demos

Rafales: An Anarchist Learning Camp

Constellation Anarchist Festival

December 2018 From Embers episode about noise demos

What Happened to Prisoners Justice Day?

How Not to Blow Up a Pipeline

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Jan 132025
 

From Riot Medicine

This zine looks at the errors made in the 2022 film How to Blow Up a Pipeline and imagines how the film would have looked if the affinity group took security seriously. Fiction shapes reality, and the analysis is meant to help counter the unsafe practices we see on screen.

A5 Screen Reading
A4 Imposed

Yintah Film Review: Anarchists in the Blind Spot, or the Necessity to Write Our Own Histories

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Jan 072025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

Yintah is the latest installment of a long tradition of indigenous documentaries speaking truth to power against colonial violence in so-called Canada. The story told is of an anti-pipeline struggle to protect the richness of life that the Wedzin kwa river offers, a decade long fight that involved not only the Wet’suwet’en peoples of northern British-Columbia, but also hundreds of dedicated non-indigenous comrades who fought valiantly alongside them. Except the film chose to cast them aside.​​​​​​​

The documentary portrays land reoccupation through the personal projects of Freda Huson and Molly Wickham over the course of ten years, but also makes a point to frame those individual stories in a more expansive and continual relationship of the Wet’suwet’en people to the land. The conflict over industrial and otherwise settler-colonial exploitation of the land is part of the present, past, and future of the territory, and the film does a good job situating the latest struggle against Coastal Gaslink on a longer timeline. The film ends with a strong position of indigenous resilience in the face of lost battles, and should inspire many that the fight is never over as long as we are alive.

A central argument Yintah makes is one most indigenous social movements have been pushing forward in North America, which is that the land should be under local and traditional jurisdiction of its original peoples. This framework opens the door to a legalistic approach to anticolonial discourse (« Who is the rightful decider? »), which Yintah gives legitimacy to for example by recounting the Delgamuukw case as a historical win for the Wet’suwet’en and Gitxan nations. Referring to or using the western legal system is neither revolutionary nor anarchist, and comrades involved in indigenous solidarity work have highlighted this point of tension before. Yintah‘s non-critical approach to legalistic tactics distances its narrative from an uncompromising and feral position against the colonial state. But I guess it also paints a truthful depiction of how unfortunately many activists end up wasting their time and energy in lawsuits and legal cases. If we can briefly hear Freda say Delgamuukw hasn’t changed anything, then why waste precious screening minutes showcasing the legal fight in a positive light beforehand? It only reinforces reformist aspirations to pursue court battles. Relying on the judicial system to recognize indigenous governance also contributes to creating a new class of indigenous elite deciders (sellouts) that move on to exploit the land at the expense of ecosystems. This is happening right now as the Nisga’a Nation, an indigenous political entity legitimized by a treaty signed in 1998, has welcomed and invested in the construction of the PRGT pipeline, northwest of the CGL line.

The question of jurisdiction is not where anarchists and indigenous land defenders share the most affinity. Indigenous jurisdiction, even put through the lens of a pre-colonial political system, opens the door to legitimizing forms of authority that, in a decolonized future, would pit anarchists against indigenous figures of power, and is also today encouraging power imbalance on current shared sites of struggle. Thankfully Yintah does not shy away from including one scene that recounts one of the most discordant moments of the struggle when chief Namoks decided on his own, in fear of police use of force, to open the Unist’ot’en gates to pipeline workers, against the will of companions on site and Freda herself. This was not the only moment when power was yielded in the name of Wets’uwet’en traditional governance and at the expense of the fight against police and CGL. But it was maybe the most impactful one, and I am thankful this movie scene offers a brief moment of nuance in an otherwise sugarcoated version of the power dynamics on the frontline.

Land is of course absolutely central to anti-colonialism. During the struggle against the Northern Gateway project, the Coastal Gaslink construction and the RCMP’s heightened presence (roughly the 2012-2022 decade), the backroads territory has been the site of an impressive game of snakes and ladders to control the access to isolated valleys. Yintah chose to dedicate a lot of its screening time to traditional uses of the land. We are shown many scenes of harvesting game and berries, the importance of transferring wet’suwet’en knowledges and values to younger generations and the relationship between traditional ways of life and health. Crucial to the #LandBack movement and Indigenous resurgence, I understand why these themes are explored as an exclusively wet’suwet’en story. But the story of confrontation with pipeline projects was not exclusively wet’suwet’en, and Yintah turned a blind eye to the central role anarchists playedin defending the land against industrial invasion. This is what every comrade has been whispering about since the film came out. Over the decade, there has been hundreds of anarchists who, from far away and traveling onsite, dedicated their hearts and their time and sometimes took immense risk to defend wet’suwet’en land. Anarchists organized solidarity actions in both affinity based models and in larger scale social contexts across the country, expanding all the way to Europe and the Pacific Northwest of the US for years, and insurgent tactics have flourished during #ShutDownCanada. According to many first hand accounts, the frontline camps could not have survived without anarchists’ contributions. The struggle was huge and has changed many non-wet’suwet’en people’s lives, many anarchists, and many others as well. Including the solidarity from non-Indigenous peoples would only have strengthened the Wet’suwet’en story of resistance, not diluted it. Do we have the audacity to bring this up as a grievance to our Indigenous friends? Is it totally misplaced to critique an indigenous film that makes no place for non-indigenous peoples? Not PC for sure.

The narrative choice of Yintah to focus on Molly and Freda also sometimes feels almost claustrophobic, and we lose a sense of the scale of the movement that involved thousands. There is a risk that countless people will watch Yintah and think that such a large scale moment of rupture rests on the shoulders of a few key figures, or that indigenous resistance can make do without the solidarity of allies and accomplices across all social identities. Leadership is a natural human dynamic that can organically move people to act, and can shift depending on the relationships in a said group. But there is a fine line between recognizing leadership qualities as natural and beneficial, and the development of a cult of personality that can be created by certain media deformations. The image of Gidimt’en Checkpoint portrayed through its media channels (instagram and youtube) has misled many folks who have unfortunately showed up to camp with unrealistic expectations such as finding a space that is constantly active in preparing confrontation or occupied and maintained mainly by Indigenous peoples. The mediatic focus of the struggle might also have put too much weight on our heroines, and health and the need for a sustainable involvement has been deprioritized. One of my concerns for upcoming struggles is that the film could embolden identity politicians to recreate a social hierarchy that enables abuse of power on future frontlines.

What I find unfortunate is that there is the propensity in activist discourse to constantly portray oneself as a victim. Yintah is unfortunately no exception. The 1h45 minutes of the documentary painfully recounts all the possible events and situations under which the state, the police or extractive industries have oppressed the Wet’suwet’en peoples. Not that we must shy away from truth speaking, or that the string of events of the struggle should be manipulated or distorted (blockades were dismantled, cabins destroyed, people arrested, and so on), but every publication whether it be book, artwork or film, makes choices in the words used, the scenes that are shown and the potential scenes that are left out. The History we remember is the one some chose to write how they saw fit. There are ways to speak of and against domination that are unapologetically defiant, with our sight set on the target. CGL might have completed its construction, but it took them extra billions and a couple years more than anticipated, because a handful of strong hearts were barricading roads, scaring away pipeline workers and sabotaging their equipment. There were countless confrontational moments on the territory that were (maybe, maybe not filmed) left out of the editing. With its narrative constructed around resilience instead of resistance, Yintah might not be able to inspire others to draw their daggers.

It might not be our Wet’suwet’en companions’ responsibility to tell our side of the story, but our complete invisibilisation from the struggle is basically dishonest. If we take a step back, we can see this situation is not new in the historiography of anarchism. Unpleasant to the general opinion and defiant to the leftist movements, anarchist action and involvement in historical events has always been undermined, evacuated, or falsified when it was time to write down a page of History. In some ways the film continues the legacy of writing off anarchists as outside agitators. Instead of recounting how anarchists have been invited to come to the frontlines and have engaged with land defense in a sustained way for years, Yintah litteraly places anarchists outside of the frame of legitimate participants in the struggle, and leaves room for the liberal media narrative of violent hijackers to step forward. This is hard to digest, when we know in reality that there were moments when only masked white anarchists were present and they were asked to pose with warrior flags for a good photo op. As I write this, land defense in northern BC has already kicked off a new chapter of resistance, this time against the PRGT pipeline. When non-Indigenous anarchists show up, they might be once again be met with confusion from Indigenous peoples, just as they were at times during the wet’suwet’en struggle, faced with questions like “why are you here ?” rather than being understood as part of a larger fabric of anti-industiral actors in the region.

Yintah has only received positive public feedback. What is the point of yet another text doing the devil’s work at pointing at the problems? While I wanted to share what I think is valuable criticism that was discussed amongst friends and companions around me, I still think Yintah tells a beautiful story of two exceptional women that is worth sharing, and a story that hopefully inspires other Indigenous peoples to reoccupy their land and defend it against industrial destruction. What I take away from watching the film is the motivation to support and contribute to anarchists telling their own histories. In a world of overlapping truths, different layers of experiences and their takeaways can compliment and contradict each other. We do not need one official History of the past decade of struggle on the yintah.

“If anarchists don’t make their own History, their enemies will. […] Should we not wish that our stories end up in the hands of those who could only write them to suit their own needs” (Plain Words, Roofdruk/Compass editions, 2024​​​​​​​).

In an anarchist history of the struggle on the yintah, the question of jurisdiction and other legal approaches would be presented as hindrances to the liberation of land and life. In an anarchist history of the struggle on the yintah, internal conflict would not be shoved under the rug but taken as an opportunity to try to draw lessons from, so we can continue to deconstruct how we relate to each other outside of civilization’s dogmas. In an anarchist history of the struggle on the yintah, we would recount the dozens of barricades on fire, cop attacks and destroyed machinery to remind us we are truly alive and free in the blissful moment of action. And there would probably be many more anarchist histories of the struggle on the yintah, I am after all just one amongst many anarchists.

Suggested further reading

Between Storms, anarchist reflections of solidarity with Wet’suwet’en resistance
Water Falling on Granite
The visceral viewpoint
Call to action against PRGT pipeline

How We Stormed Concordia University: De-arresting, Painting, Shutting Down Classes and Exams

 Comments Off on How We Stormed Concordia University: De-arresting, Painting, Shutting Down Classes and Exams
Jan 062025
 

Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info

Strategic takeaways TLDR:

1) It does not take many people to change the course of a protest.

2) When the police are busy defending a fixed point it opens possibilities for exciting action in other places.

3) Our comrades can be de-arrested, and doing this against security officers is good, lower-stakes practice for doing it against the police

The takeover of Concordia’s Hall building was yet another instance of the slow building militancy in the Tiohtià:ke (Montréal) solidarity movement for Palestine.

On November 21st, over 85,000 students across Quebec were on strike demanding their academic institutions align with the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement, drop the political suspensions of student activists, and against police on campus — making it possibly one of the biggest strikes for Palestine, outside of the occupied territories, in world history.

Committed to swinging the protest into a more combative stance, the rough idea was to make the Concordia rally on the first day of the province-wide student strike for Palestine militant enough to force the university to shut down for the day, thereby enforcing the strike mandate and causing maximum disruption. The primary proposal for doing so was to take over a building.

On the day of the rally organized and publicized by Students for Palestine’s Honour and Resistance (SPHR) Concordia, a few anarchists from all over the city (collaborating across Francophone and Anglophone milieus) found each other and shared ideas for ways to make the rally more interesting and disruptive. To avoid another ritualistic demonstration of the same chants and speeches, they decided they would try to enter Concordia’s Hall Building: the center of the University’s student activity, and known target to the broader Tiohtià:ke anarchist community that was hit several times in the fall 2024 semester, causing hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of damage.

The building was being guarded by a line of private security mercenaries — not exaggeration, everyone would soon find out that these goons were hired by the university from “Perceptage,” a security firm whose CEO advertises his IDF training. After some comrades grabbed hold of the door and held them open, a first group of brave protestors pushed through the security line yelling “move” and beckoning for the crowd outside to join them in storming the Hall lobby. The crowd reacted quickly and did just that. Security also reacted quickly and violenty grabbed the first few comrades pushing through, putting them in head locks and ripping their clothes, but other protesters fought back, grabbing onto their comrades’ bodies and tearing them out of security’s grasp. These were the first sucessful de-arrests since Concordia security began their practice of “citizen’s arrests” at protests, and it showed that our comrades can be snatched back if we move fast. Doing so aginast unarmed security can be good, lower-stakes practice for doing so against the police

Security soon realized they were totally overpowered and outnumbered and stepped aside, defeated. They could only watch as hundreds of students and “outside agitators” stormed the Hall building lobby.

Meanwhile, the riot police – who are often a significant factor at protests in Tiohtia:ke due to being highly equipped (tear gas, pepper spray, etc.) and trained more specifically for “crowd control” than riot cops in other cities, were busy forming a barrier around a small group of zionist counter-protestors. As was seen a number of times over the summer, when the SPVM have a fixed point they must defend, it can open up possibilties for protesters.

Having flooded the Hall building lobby, pacifying speeches on a megaphone began once again, and anarchists were seen continuously beckoning the crowd to remain dynamic and to begin going upstairs by chanting “Who’s school? Our school!” Some protesters spoke to the people giving speeches, who then announced to the crowd that people were moving upstairs. A critical mass began to move and a snake-demo through every floor of the Hall building ensued. Protesters were seen spray painting, disabling security cameras, tossing garbage cans onto the floor, creating chair barricades outside classrooms, even expropriating expensive university equipment, all as security just sat back and watched helplessly.

The dynamic movement created a real feeling of empowerment, and hopefully will encourage more serious attempts to liberate space and resources from the university. What felt powerful to see on this day was that it only took a handful of protesters to secure the doors, and with 15-20 militants on hand the protest shifted from a standard rally on the street, to a disruptive snake demo through a 12 story building. This taking of the school by force was something the secuirty was clearly desperate to avoid, and they responded by sending out an emergency alert encouraging people to avoid the area, as well as a message to professors that resulted in some classes and exams being cancelled into the evening. The day’s success was made possible partly due to activists at Concordia continuously organizing and trying to increase militancy and build relationships; there had been many previous unsuccessful attempts to escalate.

Surely thanks to a large portion of the crowd being in full kuffiyeh, black or student bloc, and totally concealed, as of this day, no one has faced legal or academic consequences for Thursday, November 21st actions.

There were also reports that an hour earlier, at McGill university, fire alarms were simultaneously triggered in every building on campus, forcing students out into the lawn where they could join the walkout happening at the same time.

The strikes served their function very well in this case, freeing up student time and energy and creating the conditions for an action that otherwise hasn’t been pulled off.

The 21st was unequivocally a success, yet there were a few things which could have made it even better and more impactful:

  • It became very clear that, once the snake-demo up the Hall building had begun, very few people had made plans for such a successful scenario, perhaps this comes from anarchists’ unfamiliarity with success in attempted manoeuvres, or the amount of work militants put into planning to enforce the strike instead of the possibility of other actions. Regardless of reasons, strategic or symbolic targets could have been plotted out beforehand, and further plans beyond just “getting into the building” could have been executed.
  • While people were beginning to flood into the Hall Building, one protestor who remained outside put up a nazi salute towards the zionist counter-protestors and shouted “The final solution is coming for you”. Regrettably, no one in the demonstration intervened when they saw this happening. While student associations, the Concordia Student Union, and community groups across the city denounced it after the fact, there needs to be a strong, shared understanding that nazis be immediately and physically confronted, and are in no way welcome in the movement for a liberated Palestine.
  • There is very little shared analysis that “If we desire an end to this world of genocide the university, too, must be destroyed.” Few students, or even non-students, understand the university as a location of social reproduction that enables capitalism and genocide and that must be attacked. This was seen in the general lack of antagonistic behavior on the 21st, in a scenario of possibility and freedom.
  • Despite having full access to the building, the intense repression students have faced from the university in recent months likely led them to police their own actions on that day, despite not having anyone physically stopping them. This self-policing could be counteracted by encouraging more non-students to join university actions, and encouraging students to be disruptive at each other’s schools. In addition, hopefully actions on the 21st can spread confidence and the skills to de-arrest and protect each other at our own schools.

Despite there being room for improvement, we can still celebrate and try to reproduce the palbable feeling of liberation, freedom and empowerment that filled the hallways of the university that day.

Further Reading and Resources:

No Security in Repression: Policing Collective Action for Justice at Concordia and Beyond

Follow ClashMTL on Social Media

Blockade, Occupy, Strike Back

It All Goes Or it All Stays the Same

Blocing Up

Mask up, You’re on Camera (physical copies distributed around Concordia)

The University, Too, Must Be Destroyed

Photo credits to William Wilson (@williamwilsonphotography)