Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info
We are NOT the Association of Nehirowisiw Aski Land Defenders, our position is different: “We do NOT call the police, in this situation”. The supposed colonial justice system is one of the central elements of the systemic racism committed against all indigenous people of turtle island. We are indigenous people that resist the ongoing genocide.
Anonymous
May 2025, Bas-du-Fleuve
[Version pdf – French /// Version pdf format livret – French]
We are witnessing the most documented genocide in history in Palestine and the consolidation of a fascist regime in the United States. Many of us are wondering what to do about it. Here’s a conceptual framework for understanding what’s going on and how we can respond. This synthesis draws upon material from Kelly Hayes and her Organizing My Thoughts blog, the thinking of Mariame Kaba and Andrea Ritchie of Interrupting Criminalization, Ejeris Dixon and his podcast Fascism Barometer, Scot Nakagawa’s The Anti-Authoritarian Playbook blog, Anne Archet’s blog flegmatique, the YouTube channel Thought Slime, and Mark Bray’s Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook, among other sources.
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Fascist movements, parties, and regimes can be recognized by:
Fascism can seize state power through elections, a coup d’état, or a combination of both, as in the case of the Trump administration, which won the election and used its ascension to power to carry out an “administrative coup”—the illegal usurpation of congressional power and various state department powers by Elon Musk and the DOGE.
Once in power, fascism uses a well-known operative approach: criminalization. It passes laws that make certain activities criminal and deploys the police, the justice system, and prisons against the people who engage in them. For example, it criminalizes:
Beyond laws, criminalization is politicized to designate entire groups of people as threats:
These threats are nurtured by fascist narratives and presented as existential threats to the nation’s future, thereby:
It is through this process of criminalization that fascist regimes create popular consent for the violence deployed against certain groups (physical and psychological violence, disappearances, forced labor, denial of care, murder. . .). People are made to believe that:
However, what is defined as a crime continuously grows.
This process also exists in so-called liberal democracies, which have developed expansive judicial and prison apparatuses. Fascists need the infrastructure and the legitimization that liberal democracies readily provide for the industrial-carceral system to function.
Keep in mind that:
Fascism is not so much a break with liberal democracies as a form its panic takes. As a result, the fascism currently consolidating in the United States and taking shape in Canada and Québec is characterized by:
Here are a few other important facts about fascism:
Historically, state apparatuses, opposition parties, the justice system, and the mainstream media have all failed to prevent the rise of fascist regimes. The neoliberal elites who run democracies may appear to oppose fascism, but faced with an increasingly unlivable world in which it becomes impossible to sustain both capitalism and liberal democracy, they too will adopt increasingly fascistic policies. For neoliberals, the criminalization and/or abandonment of ever-larger groups of marginalized people will be articulated as a matter of pragmatism and inevitability, while fascists will present it as the desirable return of a violently unequal natural order. In short, don’t expect the support of the neoliberal elites.
Popular organization is the best form of resistance. If the normalization of police, prisons, and mass surveillance has made this effort more difficult, presenting these tools of control as necessary, even natural, there are nonetheless multiple avenues for collective resistance.
Where to start:
We must build and maintain collective people’s power: the power to keep our communities safe; the power to prevent any of our own from being disappeared; the power to make sure everyone has food. We must begin by exploring all the ways in which we can participate in building this power, for example, by working to:
To explore this issue further, I suggest the zine Block and Build: But Make It Abolitionist by the Interrupting Criminalization organization. Then it’s a matter of determining what makes sense for us, what we’re able to do, and how we understand our social context and the overall situation. For this, I recommend the zine Making a Plan, also an Interrupting Criminalization publication.
It could start with a union, a local chapter of Food not Bombs, a group that organizes people’s assemblies, a housing committee, a group of friends who make engaged art, a women’s group, and so on. All of it is relevant. these groups must:
Then, when the time comes, it will be possible to fight a fascist regime on a large scale thanks to:
If we join forces to fight fascism and the criminalization process that underpins it, anything is in our reach.
Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info
We’re writing what follows to enable anarchist comrades and anticolonial militants to make informed decisions about where and how to engage in struggle.
In a press release published May 17, 2025, and available on their Facebook page, the Association of Nehirowisiw Aski Land Defenders (MAMO First Nations) condemns acts of vandalism recently committed on forestry machinery apparently belonging to a contractor involved in cuts on their territory.
The press release goes further, claiming that “these acts cannot and must not go unpunished.” It continues: “If you witness an act of vandalism or if you have any information that may assist the investigation, we strongly encourage you to share it without delay with the police authorities.”
We believe that relationships of struggle are strongest when they are nourished by practices of honesty and transparent communication on the motivations and limits of each of us. We hope that these events can be the basis for nuanced and open conversations about solidarity.
Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info
Blockades are going up on Atikamekw territory (Nehirowisiw Aski) to resist the CAQ’s forestry regime. In solidarity, anti-colonial protestors seized the intersection of Papineau and Ontario during rush hour.
Paralysing southbound traffic to the Jacques-Cartier Bridge for close to 20 minutes before the police could arrive. Protestors used road flares and defended eachother in the face of brazen motorists – police were caught by surprise and were unable to intervene. After leaving the intersection, protestors took the streets, and dispersed with no arrests or police interventions. The success of this action inspires us at an urgent moment demanding solidarity with land defenders refusing the CAQ’s land grab.
The frontlines need urgent support as the logging season begins. Land defenders on the Nehirowisiw Aski are directly resisting colonial extraction and the destruction of their territory. This is frontline resistance to the CAQ’s forestry regime—a regime that hands over vast stretches of so-called Quebec’s forests to industry without consent, without regard. They’re calling for material support along with solidarity—whether you can go to the blockade, send funds, or take action here in Tiohtià:ke—this struggle must be taken up by people in the city. We must disrupt comfort, convenience, and quiet complicity.
Indigenous Land defenders are not solely responsible for resisting the colonial death march of extractive industry—the frontlines are everywhere. Don’t wait for permission. Don’t ask for justice. Fight alongside those creating it. Land defenders need immediate material support and brave anti-colonial accomplices.
From Warrior Up
After a five year hiatus, Warrior Up is back. The intention of this project remains the same: to compile guides and practical information relevant to struggles against industrial devastation.
The ‘Arson’ page compiles guides on setting fires. The ‘Sabotage Techniques’ page compiles sabotage techniques for different types of infrastructure. The ‘Studying Vulnerabilities‘ page compiles analyses of how the megamachine functions and where it is vulnerable. The ‘Maps‘ page compiles mapping projects focused on infrastructure and extractive industries.
This project relies on submissions, so please send us content, including anything published years ago that we may have missed! We now use an Autistici email:
warriorupthrowdown ( at ) autistici ( dot ) org
Our PGP key, however, remains unchanged (Fingerprint 4283 5D10 4ABA 6B2D 0C60 A4F1 F7A9 73A3 8FD8 16E0). It can be found on the contact page, which now also includes a contact form.
From La Mauvaise Herbe
Donald Trump is not only completely unhinged, he is completely obsessed with Canada. It will be remembered that throughout the last election campaign, he talked about tariffs but said nothing about the US absorbing Canada. Only after becoming president did Donald don his imperialist hat, threatening Greenland. Panama, Gaza and Canada.
Trudeau, Carney and the Liberals meanwhile have abandoned postnationalism to become flag waving nationalists. Pierre Poilievre of the Conservatives has adopted the slogan Canada First, having abandoned Canada is Broken, which now echoes Trump’s claim that Canada is not viable if it is not part of the States.
Trump has adopted a spheres of influence approach in which North America is destined to be dominated by the US, and Canada and Greenland are to be annexed to access their natural resources. His approach to Mexico is different. Trump does not want more Latinos, he wants fewer Latinos, so annexing Mexico is out of the question. However, he is putting pressure on Mexico in various ways, including attacking Mexico’s sovereignty by threatening military action against the cartels, a move rejected by Mexico’s new president.
Canadians have reacted to the trumpian assault with shock, fear, anger and a sense of betrayal, An upsurge in Canadian nationalism has taken place as well as a questioning of Canadian identity.
On the issue of identity of interest are statements by Canada’s new prime minister, Mark Carney, an Irish-Canadian Catholic. After attending the Saint Patrick’s parade in Montreal, Carney flew to Europe, where he visited Notre Dame Cathedral and met Emmanuel Macron. He then met King Charles and the British prime minister. On the trip Carney emphasized Canada’s European roots and described Canada as being founded by three groups, the British, the French and indigenous peoples, giving the impression of an equality of influence. In reality, the British and French, along with the Spanish and Portuguese, arrived in the Americas as conquerors, subjugating indigenous peoples and warring against each other here in the Americas as they had in Europe. The founding of Canada signified a continuation of an assimilationist approach towards indigenous peoples embodied in the residential school system, designed specifically to
eradicate native cultures. This sad legacy weighs heavily when it is a question of Canadian identity.
Today’s Canadian cities are multicultural and complex. How Canadian identity fits in with other cultural and identity aspects is complicated, but a reaction to Trump is evident in cancelled trips to the States and boycotts of American products. However, information is largely anecdotal, making it difficult to know what is happening. There are still lots of New York Yankees baseball caps, I’ve noticed, although I have never been able to figure out what they are supposed to mean.
I personally have not experienced an upsurge in Canadian nationalism. I am not Canadian or Québécois or part of any state. But like most Canadians I detest Trump, a dangerous predator and would-be dictator. The U.S. is presently in turmoil as Trump attempts to radically reshape the country.
As I write a Canadian election has just begun and as one would expect, the Trump factor is playing a big role. The Liberal Party has seen a remarkable rebound, going from more than twenty points behind to even with or leading the Conservatives. Support for Quebec sovereignty has fallen from 35% to 29%.
Trump presents himself as a strongman, although it seems he never stops whining. Unfortunately but understandably, the tendency is to search for a counter-strongman. a savior.
Trump is not the only strongman model out there. Carney represents another model, a financial strongman as it were. It is claimed that he has the chops to go mano a mano with Trump. Brain versus brawn.
All this is a reminder of the centralization of power inherent in electoralism. Trump cranks out dozens of executive orders and fancies himself a king. As prime minister, Carney formally incarnates the nation.
Premier Doug Ford of Ontario represents a strongman model closer to Trump. In effect Ford was a Trump supporter until the tariff threat intervened, which Ford has characterized as “like a family member stabbing you in the heart.” He apparently doesn’t get that America First means America First. Ford subsequently became Captain Canada, appearing on American cable news networks, and calling a snap election to take advantage of the situation. He attempted to impose a 25% surcharge on electricity Ontario exports to several American states, but quickly backed down when Trump threatened to raise tariffs on Canada from 25 to 50 percent. Trump “needed to break some guy in Ontario“ was how American commerce secretary Howard Lutnick disparagingly and crudely put it.
Danielle Smith of Alberta, clearly the Canadian premier ideologically closest to trumpism, has travelled to Mar-a-Lago to cozy up to Trump and has appeared on far right American podcasts. She has ruled out curtailing oil shipments to the U.S., the potential trade war weapon that would have the most damaging effect. She has argued on a far right American podcast that Trump should put off his tariffs until after the elections in order to assist Poilievre’s electoral chances.
“Drill, baby, drill,” his mantra on the campaign trail, sums up trumpism: oil barons and billionaires. Claiming that climate change is a “hoax,” Trump has declared a no holds barred war on the environment. Located next to the U.S., Canada will be severely affected.
Trump says Canada has nothing the U.S. needs and at the same time that Canada must become a “cherished” U.S. state. He may not need Canada but it seems there are lots of things he wants. His goal is to destroy Canadian manufacturing in order to to bolster American manufacturing, making Canada purely a provider of natural resources.
But wherever it is produced, a car remains an earth destroying monster. We are already too industrialized and digitalized.
Canada is lakes and rivers and forests and mountains. Natural resources are better off left in the ground.
Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info
Download PDF to print (front/back), cut in half, hand out.
For distribution at protests, festivals, sporting events, waiting rooms, cookouts, libraries, dining halls, courtrooms, traffic jams, emergency rooms, corner stores, public transportation, sideshows, recreation yards, or anywhere else you may encounter others who’ve had enough.
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REMEMBER 2020, 1968, 1878, 1791 — WE CAN WIN
Thousands of years of kings, queens, emperors, presidents, & ministers demanding obedience. 500 years of crackers enslaving & colonizing this planet. 250 years of anglo/yankee domination.
Trump this, Musk that. Democrats, Republicans, Zionists, Confederates, Fascists, Conservatives, Liberals, Progressives. So many flavors of the same expired bullshit.
2020: Cops executed George Floyd. A police station was burnt down. For a brief moment, the world opened up.
1968: White power executed MLK. Black communities erupted into rebellion. For a brief moment, the world opened up.
1878: Indigenous peoples in the South Pacific rose up in arms against european colonizers attempting to exterminate their communities & hijack their homelands. For a moment, the world opened up.
1791: Enslaved Africans & their descendants began an uprising in the Caribbean, destroying property, profit, & slavery. For a long moment, the world opened up.
Whether a handful of friends or a massive crowd, we know that the footsoldiers of every regime can be defeated. The secret is to begin.
« In Memory Of Our Fallen; Let us turn their cities into funeral pyres.
In Memory Of Our Fighters; Let us honor your names with fire and gunpowder.
Peace By Piece
(A) »
NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE!
¡QUEREMOS UN MUNDO DONDE QUEPAN MUCHOS MUNDOS!
Anonymous submission to MTL Counter-info
Yesterday in Tiohtia:ke, forty anarchists (and our friends 🙂 ) attacked the buildings of mcgill university. Armed with rudimentary tools, we succeeded in destroying all windows that stood in our way. With the help of hammers, rocks, and glass bottles, we vandalized this symbol of the colonial capitalist system. Within 15 minutes, we smashed over 30 windows on multiple pavillions of the institution, as well as the electronic locks of the administration building. An exam in progress during the protest was cancelled for 350 students. According to a mcgill spokesperson, the damages are estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Two comrades who were momentarily detained by the failed pigs of a private security agency, subcontracted by mcgill, were gloriously de-arrested. The police response was slow and ineffective, the protest led to no arrests or injuries. We dispersed completely before the arrival of the spvm.
Graffitis were left behind denouncing the acquisition of the royal vic hospital (site of unmarked graves) by mcgill for $700 million, and its complicity in the genocide in Palestine. We also denounce the desecration of the tree of peace, planted on the lower field by decolonial activists this summer, as well as the historical complicity of mcgill in psychiatric experimentation on Indigenous children, and the transphobia and racism of mcgill’s administration. For us, mcgill is nothing but a symbol of a colonial and capitalist system, of which we call for the complete destruction.
We encourage our comrades to extend the struggle towards the destruction of all oppressions, and to continue escalating towards revolution.
We’d also like to underscore the categoric refusal of mcgill – and their disdain in the face of student activists’ demands on this subject – to divest from genocide and the military-industrial complex. In a board of governors meeting at the end of the fall 2024 semester, the zionist cronies who sit on said board openly stated that they’d waited until the end of the semester to present the findings from their ‘investigation’ of divestment, when nobody would notice (wishful thinking, deep). In the face of their condecension and their attachment to continuing the genocide, we say: Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable! Our actions last night are in keeping with this line of thought.
Viva Palestina, long live the tree of peace, death to capital and empire, down with colonialism and transphobia, fuck McKill!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
From Amplifier Films
Earlier this year, Amplifier Films was invited by Shanipiap, a courageous Innu land defender, to help share her story and amplify the call for action from the heart of her ancestral territory near Lac St-Jean, Quebec.
This video captures the poignant moment Shanipiap stopped a massive logging truck to make a powerful statement: her people are still here, still protecting the land that has always been theirs. With a sacred fire burning in the background, a symbol of hope and resistance, Shanipiap and her community are standing firm against relentless industrial encroachment by forestry, mining, and oil companies, which have devastated vast parts of their homeland.
For generations, the Innu have honored their duty as protectors of the forest, water, and wildlife, fostering a deep connection to Mother Earth. But with the exploitation of Quebec’s natural resources accelerating since the James Bay Agreement, the stakes have never been higher. The sacred fire in Dolbeau/Mistassini is not just a call for help—it’s a declaration of survival and resilience.
Through this film, we hope to amplify the voices of those on the frontlines of this struggle and inspire action. Learn more about the Petapan Treaty, the Innu’s ongoing fight, and how you can stand in solidarity to protect the future of these lands and their people.
