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Walidah Imarisha on Angels With Dirty Faces, Accountability Processes, and more

Walidah Imarisha on Angels With Dirty Faces, Accountability Processes, and more

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This week William and Disembodied Voice had the chance to interview Walidah Imarisha, who is an Oregon based writer, educator, public scholar and spoken word artist about her book Angels With Dirty Faces: Three Stories of Crime, Prison, and Redemption, her 2016 book out from AK Press and IAS, which highlights three distinct experiences that are all in different degrees tangential to the realities inherent to the prison industrial complex.

This book just won the Creative Non-Fiction Award in the state of Oregon earlier in 2017. In this interview we got to touch on a wide array of topics, mostly centered on Angels With Dirty Faces but also on accountability processes and what might have to change in order for them to feel more effective, her relationship to anarchism, and some upcoming projects and appearances.

We also get to touch on the book Octavia’s Brood, a compilation of speculative fiction that Imarisha co edited with Adrienne Maree Brown, who also wrote the book Emergent Strategy.

More about Imarisha, her work, and upcoming events can be found at http://www.walidah.com/

Resist Package Restrictions for Those Incarcerated in New York State!

The thugs who run the NYS prison system (NYS DOCCS) has issued a new directive (4911A) that describes new, draconian package rules that they are testing in 3 facilities as a ‘pilot program’.

Currently, at most facilities, family and friends can drop off packages at the front desk when visiting- packages that include fresh fruit and vegetables that supplement the high carb/sugar, meager diet provided by DOCCS.

These new rules are problematic in a lot of ways including:

1) Packages can be ordered only from approved vendors.
2) Fresh fruit and vegetables are not allowed.
3) Family and friends cannot drop off packages while visiting. All packages must be shipped through the vendor.
4) Each person is limited to ordering three packages a month for him or herself and receiving three packages a month from others. Each package cannot be more than 30 pounds. Of the 30 pounds per package, only 8 pounds can be food.
5) Allowable items will be the same in all facilities. (No more local permits.)
6) There are far fewer items allowed than before and of the items that are allowed, far less variety. This includes additional restrictions on clothing.
7) The pilot rules are not clear about how books, media, religious items and literature, or other items subject to First Amendment protection will be treated. This could mean that groups like NYC Books through Bars will not be able to send free books to the 52,000 people in the prison system.

The pilot program implements an “approved venders only” package system. This means that only packages from approved vendors will be accepted. The vendors appear to be companies that specialize in shipping into prisons and jails. There are currently five approved vendors identified on the DOCCS website. This amounts to a cash grab for these companies.

The pilot program is starting at three facilities: Taconic, Greene, and Green Haven. Those facilities will stop accepting packages from non-approved vendors on
January 2, 2018.

We have to make this package directive unworkable. These new rules are cruel- eliminating fresh fruit and vegetables and creating massive profits for the vampire companies that will fill the niche.

WE CAN ORGANIZE TO ROLL THESE RULES BACK.

Some ideas how:

1-Sign the petition- share it with your address book, share it on twitter, share it on Facebook. It takes two seconds.
https://diy.rootsaction.org/…/no-package-restrictions-for-n…

2-Get in touch with your people in NYS Prisons and let them know about this. Inform them, send them the info. Massive non-cooperation on the part of NYS prisoners will play a huge role in this.

3- Flood the electeds with postcards. Send one to Governor Cuomo and one to Anthony Annucci, the acting commissioner of DOCCS. It costs 34 cents.

Andrew M. Cuomo
Governor of New York State
NYS State Capitol Building
Albany, NY 12224

Acting Commissioner Anthony Annucci
NYS DOCCS
Building 2, State Campus
Albany, NY 12226

Some sample text:

Dear Governor Cuomo,
This holiday season is about giving, not taking away. I object to the new DOCCS package rules.
From,
(Your Name)
(Your relationship to people in prison, if applicable)

Dear Acting Commissioner Annucci,
The new DOCCS package pilot punishes innocent families. Having a loved one in prison is already expensive and difficult—the new rules make it worse. Rescind the package pilot!
From,
(Your Name)
(Your relationship to people in prison, if applicable)

4) Write a letter to both of these people (address above)

5)Call Cuomo’s office and leave a message about it. You won’t have to talk to anyone. Just leave your message.
518-474-8390

6) Email
Cuomo: http://www.governor.ny.gov/content/governor-contact-form
Annuci anthony.annucci@doccs.ny.gov

7) Tweet at Cuomo
@NYGovCuomo

8) Write your NYS Senate and Assembly reps as well:

9) Get media to cover it especially outfits like Democracy Now and the Marshall Project.
stories@democracynow.org
pitches@themarshallproject.org

. … . ..

Show playlist here.

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Transcription

This week, I and sometimes contributor & commentator Disembodied Voice had the chance to interview Walidah Imarisha, who is an Oregon-based writer, educator, public scholar and spoken word artist, about her book Angels With Dirty Faces, which came out in 2016 `out From AI and AK Press, [and] which highlights three distinct experiences that are, in different degrees, tangential to the realities inherent to the prison-industrial complex. This book just won the creative nonfiction award in the state of Oregon earlier in 2017. In this interview, we got to touch on a wide array of topics, mostly centered on Angels With Dirty Faces but also on accountability processes, and on what might have to change in order for them to feel more effective her relationship to anarchism, and some up-coming projects and appearances. We also get to touch on the book Octavia’s Brood, a compilation of speculative fiction that Imarisha co-edited with Adriene Marie Brown, who also wrote Emergent Strategy. More about Imarisha, her work, and up coming event can be found www.walidah.com.

TFSR-William Goodenuff: So, we are here with Walidah Imarisha, author of Angels with Dirty Faces, and co-editor of Octavia’s Brood. Thank you so much for coming on to this show. Would you introduce yourself a little bit more and talk a little about what you do?

Walidah: Sure! Thanks for having me. My name’s Walidah Imarisha and I’m an educator, and a writer, and I work in a number of different areas. I see my work all tying together as trying to claim a right to the future and trying to be able to move folks toward imagining and then creating better and more just futures. 

TFSR-WG: Will you talk more about your experience as an educator who is also involved in movement work, and also maybe more broadly about the role of the academy in movement? 

W: Sure. I think I’ve been very lucky to teach in places and positions that have allowed me to shape and to have as much autonomy as possible around the content of my classes and the subject material. I think that intellectualism is incredibly important in movements for change. I think its important to have spaces where we are thinking about theory, and we’re thinking about larger frame works and questions. To me all intellectualism should be public intellectualism, which is, in my definition, intellectualism not in service of the powers that be, but in service of the people, and in service of creating new just worlds. And, to me, the distinction that is very important is about, “Who are you accountable to, and who is your work accountable to?” And I’m very proud to call myself a public scholar, because, to me, that means I am accountable to those communities who are marginalized, who are oppressed. I’m accountable to making sure my work reflects them, making sure my work is centered in their leadership and their resistance, and that my work inherently attempts to support changing the structures that created that oppression in the first place. 

TFSR-WG: That’s really cool. Sometimes I find in far left, at least the strains of the far left that I find myself in, that there’s this kind of anti-intellectualism that happens. Do you find that that has been the case for you, or do you have a different experience with that?

W: I think I’ve seen, you know, both sides of the extremes, and I think that’s part of the problem — is that it’s extreme. So I’ve definitely seen folks who are anti-intellectualism and focused only on practice. I’ve also seen folks who have only immersed themselves in theory and are not engaged with or thinking about how that moves on the ground. And I think that both of those extremes ultimately keep us from being able to create the kind of change that we want, so there has to be a balance. And I also think it’s important, again, that intellectualism and the engagement with thinking about the future is really not only rooted in oppressed communities, but includes the imaginings of oppressed communities. So I think it’s important that we’re not just looking to public scholars to just articulate these ideas, but we’re looking to public scholars to help and hold space for communities to articulate these ideas and these imaginings for themselves.

TFSR-WG: Yeah, definitely. I couldn’t agree more. Yeah, the acknowledgment that intellectual theory comes from so many different places and not just out of academies or whatever — though there is a lot of super useful stuff coming out of academies too. So, you’ve done a lot of lectures, and you say you’re an educator and a writer, and you wrote this book Angels with Dirty Faces a couple of years ago. Would you describe this book for anyone who hasn’t read it yet?

W: Sure. It’ Angels With Dirty Faces: Three Stories of Crime, Prison, and Redemption. It’s a creative nonfiction book that looks at the criminal legal system, at prisons, and at the idea of harm and accountability through the narrative and the stories of three people. My goal in putting the book out was to create spaces here we can have conversations about the idea of what happens when harm is done. So when there’s been harm done in communities, when folks have hurt each other, then what happens? And the book doesn’t answer that question, but what I realized in doing my work as an a prison abolitionist is that we needed to humanize those folks who are incarcerated, and also folks who have done harm, and they actually aren’t necessarily the same people, because those folks have been dehumanized. And we can’t begin to have conversations about how to heal communities when we’re imagining folks in the communities not as human beings who have, in some cases, made incredibly atrocious mistakes, but as monsters. 

TFSR-WG: Yeah, that resonates a lot with me, and one of the questions that we were really interested about, is kind of this disposability mindset that the world at large seems to have for so many people, and that that’s certainly conditioned on forces of classism and racism and anti-Blackness.

W: Absolutely. I think that when you live in a capitalist society, everything becomes a commodity, including human beings, and I think that, you know, it’s very clear that, you know — and I think there`s been a lot of amazing scholarship work done about this, the connections between system of racial oppression, like slavery, and the prison system. And recognizing that the prison system is not about safety, it’s not about reducing crime – it’s about exploitation and control of potentially rebellious communities. You know, folks like Angela Davis, Ruthie Gilmore, and Michelle Alexander have moved these conversations in the public. And so I think it’s important to have a historical and larger frame work around it, so that we can see its not just that people are being thrown away – it’s that certain folks especially are being thrown away, because they were never wanted in the first place.

TFSR-Disembodied Voice: Absolutely, yes. What you just said about that there are particular folks who tend to become dehumanized and disposed of in our society is very much true, but what I appreciated about your book and the stories that you tell in it, is that you’re really approaching it from a space where you’re talking about people…who we actually care deeply for who create harm and hurt us, and that is something that has often been an conversation in the community that I’m in, and that we’re in, with things like accountability processes and different ways of trying to address harm at the community level, that – where we don’t want to throw people away, right? And we’ll talk more about that question a little later on in the interview, but I’m curious because you mentioned prison abolitionism. What do you feel, when we talk about the end of prisons, what would need to be true of our society, in order for us to stop throwing people away?

W: Yeah. I think, you know, it’s important to talk bout what abolition is, and I think that Angela Davis has a great short book that she wrote called Abolition Democracy that’s based on the ideas of W.E.B. Du Bois, and him talking about the fact that, you know, calling ourselves “prison abolitionists” is specifically and directly linking back to abolitionists who are fighting against slavery. and Du Bois was writing about slavery and said that, you know, abolition is not just the end of slavery – it is the presence of justice for those who were enslaved. It is the ability to participate fully in society, so it’s not just the tearing down; it’s actually a replacement and a building up of those folks who had for so long been exploited and brutalized and terrorized. And I think that that’s a very important and useful framing when we’re talking about prison , because when we talk about prison abolition, often folks think only of tearing down the walls. They think of an absence. And the question becomes, well then, you know, if you wanna tear down the prisons, then what? And I think that for many prison abolitionists, we believe that abolition as a mind set is about ending this carceral mentality, this idea that punishment and retribution that prisons are founded on, but it’s also about creating systems that actually focus on keeping communities whole and safe, and when harm is done, to healing those communities. And so I think it’s important to recognize that abolition is not just about destruction. It’s also about creation. And Alexis Pauline Gumbs, who is an amazing Black Feminist visionary thinker, wrote “What if abolition is a growing thing?” and I think that that idea, as abolition as growing, as a garden, as a plant, rather than as a wrecking ball, is a really powerful one.

TFSR-WG: Yeah, definitely. It seems like yeah, I – it’s hard for me to grapple with this question, super, like — what might need to be true of our society in order for us to stop throwing people away is a really huge question that I sometimes don’t really have great foot holds in — the carceral state, and capitalism, and all of these things like patriarchy, anti-blackness, misogynoir – all these things build walls between people, and you know, take the element of caring out of the human equation, which is a super huge shame. So I think approaching it like that makes a lot of sense to me.
Just to get back to the book, I was really taken with the style that the book was written in, the narrative or creative nonfiction, and I’m really interested in about the evolution of this book. Would you talk a little bit about how it changed stylistically throughout the writing process?

W: Sure. So, Angels With Dirty Faces  focuses on three people stories: myself, my adopted brother Kakamia, who is currently incarcerated in CA, and James McElroy, also known as Jimmy Mac, who was a member of the Westies, which was the Irish Mob that ran Hell’s Kitchen in NewYork from the 1960s to the 1980s, and also served as hit men for the Gambino family, for John Gotti, for the (???). And the book actually began because Jimmy Mac and my brother were incarcerated in the same place and got to know each other, and Jimmy Mac had never done an interview with any journalist, but, because of my brother, he agreed to do an interview with me. And through doing that process, he, you know, was like, do you want to write my biography? And I was like yes, this would be fascinating. But as I began to write the biography, I realized that it was something that was growing. I had been doing work around prisons and justice within prisons for, you know, 20 years or more then. I couldn’t help but want to bring that into talking about Jimmy Mac to give it a framework and to be able to give a full picture of these ideas of crime, of violence, of prisons, of justice, that are so racialized, that are so much about class and gender and sexual identity, and are so much used as a method of social control. And so the book just grew from there to include my brother, to include myself, and then to include the work that I’ve done that has been a lot around Black Liberation political prisoners.

And so, I really began to realize that i think the best way to change folks’ minds is through stories. And I think that what really causes a deep shift within a person is being able to emotionally connect with someone else’s experiences, and I think that is p of the reason that this system works so hard to dehumanize those who it is scared of, because if we are not people, if we are things, then there is less of a possibility of other folks in society empathizing, connecting, and then seeing the ways that the system functions. And so I felt like sharing those stories would be an important way to create a shift. So, the creative nonfiction genre is kind of a giant snatch bag with a lot of things in it. But, you know, my book definitely — it includes statistics, it includes history, it includes analysis. It also includes personal narrative. I’m  a poet, so some of the writing incorporates the aesthetic of poetics. So, it definitely is a hybrid creature. But I think that actually how we live our lives is seeing everything as connected rather than in these neat boxes.

TFSR-DV: Yea, and that is one of the most remarkable aspects of the book. I can imagine that this is something that people comment on to you frequently about it — the way you just charted that evolution of kind of talking about Jimmy Mac and then realizing that more stories needed to be included sounds very natural and organic, and yet the stories that you chose to include about yourself and your brother were highly personal, and I was wondering because, I suppose, you could have chosen to talk about some other folks who are incarcerated who you had learned about or corresponded with, but you chose to speak about yourself and your relationship with your brother and your family. I wonder if you could reflect a little bit on the choice not just to widen the scope of the book from one story to multiple stories, but specifically to those stories.

W: Sure. Well, as I was working on what I thought would by the biography for Jimmy Mac, I came to feel that I was really connected with Jimmy and with this process. I mean, the reason Jimmy spoke to me was because of my brother and, you know, Jimmy was calling me his niece, and said I was an “ Westie,” which I was like, “I don’t know that I want to do that, but thank you,” um, [laughter] and I felt like I was very much a part of the story. I think that any idea of objectivity is a fallacy in human beings. I don’t think that you can be objective. And I think that folks who say they’re being objective in their writing, in their creation, in their education, teaching — they are either lying to you or to themselves. I think that the most principled things is to be clear about your subjectivity, and to be clear about how your subjectivity affects the information you’re presenting, and then to allow the reader to engage with it on that level.

And so that’s what I began doing. And as I was doing that, I was realizing that these conversations around harm, around crime, around violence, were things that I was also grappling with personally. And so, you know, my brother was arrested and tried — at the age of 16 tried as an adult and has served almost 30 years in prison at this point. And then, you know, I had actually gone through a failed accountability – a community accountability process with my partner at the time who had sexually assaulted me. And really recognizing that these stories are not stories that are easy to discuss, these are not stories that there is a neat simple ending that can be created, but these complicated, messy, difficult, painful stories are the ones we have to talk about, because if we don’t talk about them, then any conception of justice we’re creating will eventually derail when we get to places like that. And so I think that, for me, we have to go into those places that make us uncomfortable, that make us scared, that are painful, to be able to sit with the complexities and contradictions of humanity. And I think that’s the only way that we can build new systems of justice, new processes to address harm, new ways to keep communities safe, that will actually both be effective and will embody the values and principles that we have and that we want for this new world.

TFSR-WG: Yeah. I couldn’t agree more, and I think that that point just can not be overstated. There’s no amount of times when, you know, having that information will ever be too much.

TFSR-DV: I wanted to say that one of the things that really challenged me in the book, when you talk about sitting with that complexity, you speak about how — I’m sorry, can you pronounce your brother’s name for me again?

W: Kay-kuh-mee-ah.

TFSR-DV: Kakamia. That you talk about how Kakamia really resisted becoming an informant, and really didn’t want to play that role, but eventually did, and that was really painful for him, it was difficult for you, and it really made me sit with the complexity of that because I think in the circles that I run in there’s like this anti-snitch kind of thing, and it’s this very knee jerk, kind of all of nothing kind of approach that can just be so harsh toward people who do that. And on the one hand, yes, it’s a decision that we can condemn, but on the other hand, it’s also — you capture the horrible choice of that so well in the book. So I just wanted to say that, just for me, that was a moment where the story really forced me to sit with that complexity, so… thank you [laughs].

W: Yeah…thanks. I think that I just wanna be, I mean, Kakamia is anti-snitch, and, you know, hates himself for debriefing. And also probably wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t debriefed. And that both of those things that are in seeming contradiction with each other is absolutely true. I think it is important to take in to account context. I think that one of the things, one of the many things that is so flawed with the criminal legal system is the idea that people fit neatly in to categories, and human interactions fit neatly into categories, and so we can predict what needs to happen when a situation occurs. And I think one of the things that’s really powerful about the idea of transformative justice, which is you know, prison abolition is a part of that, is the idea of saying, as we are living the values we have for this new world, how are we respecting that every human interaction is different, is unique, and how are we responding to that and creating situations that address that moment? I think that’s on e of the things that is so both challenging and powerful about transformative justice — is that it accepts that each situation is unique.

TFSR-WG: I’m wondering about what the reception of the book has been, either critically or, if you’ve done book events, how have people received the book?

W: Well, the reception has been really good for the book. I think I definitely was very nervous about putting out the book for many reasons. Because the book is so deeply personally for myself, and for Kakamia and for Jimmy Mac, as well as other folks who’s stories are partially told in the book, I wanted it to be as honest as possible, and I tried to be honest and accountable to those folks– Jimmy & Kakamia read different versions of the book, they got to see the book and give feed back on it. I felt that was very important, especially writing about folks who are incarcerated, where so much has been taken from them. I did not want tot take their stories and their experiences from them as well, and use it to my own end. So, even though I worked to try and make the book as honest and as real as possible, that also meant that all of us are kind of laid open for the world, which was you know a very scary idea, I think. And the response to the book has been really incredible and powerful. It’s – I think what has honored me the most is when folks who’s family members are incarcerated, people who have been incarcerated, and folks who are survivors of sexual assault all say they felt like they saw themselves and their experiences reflected accurately in the book, and that the complexities of that which they live with every day, was something that was in the book. And that to me was the highest honor that I could receive in relationship to the book.

But the response has been powerful from all sectors and I won the creative nonfiction award for the Oregon Book Awards in 2017, and that has kind of given a new round of interest in the book, so it’s been really powerful to use the book as a way to have conversations in communities, and as a way for communities to begin having that dialogue of saying, “Well than, what do we do? And what can we create now that can be ready when harm happens in our community?”

TFSR-WG: Definitely. And congratulations for the award, and speaking for my own self, one of the most powerful aspects of the book, which seemingly I’m not alone in this, the fact that you name all these really difficult complexities that are just inherent to human interactions, and you know, the question of snitching and the question of the accountability process — those were really, really powerful, powerful moments, and like very, very real. And I’d love to hear, has — so the reception has been good, but I’d love to hear, has Kakamia or Mac’s or even your situation, has have there been any material changes to any of y’all’s lives or situations because of Angels With Dirty Faces?

W: Well, unfortunately, Jimmy Mac passed away before the book came out so, it is one of my biggest regrets that he didn’t get to see the book out in the world. And I worked hard with Kakamia – because he is still trying to make parole and get out of prison – to, you know, protect his identity as much as possible around that. But he has shared the book with folks who are also incarcerated with him and that has meant a lot to me because the book is very personal about him as well, and he has felt comfortable enough to hare that with folks who have all given positive feedback to him about it.

TFSR-WG: That’s awesome. You touched on accountability processes several times and I – they are kind of the thorn in, you know, kind of a thorn in the side of the far left in a way, and they probably don’t work as well as we like to believe that they work. I was wondering if you cold reflect on accountability processes a little bit and kind of talk a little bit about – can we boil down the failure of these processes to individual flaws or is there some sort of structural component, structural aspect to their consistently lukewarm results?

W: I think one of the biggest things, and I talk about this in Angels, I think a lot of the problem is what we consider to be failure and success, and how we are judging community accountability process, especially when it has been serious harm that’s been done around, especially intimate violence and sexual violence. And I think that we have the idea that has been, is very much a product of this capitalist society that we can find a quick fix for these things. And that we can create something that ,at the end of the day, everyone will feel healed and will feel whole and will move on from. And I think that those are fairly unrealistic expectations. I think that there is no quick fix to healing, and there is no quick fix in the process of transformation. And so, for me, what I have really come to think about is, are the individuals and is the community, at the “end” of the accountability process, healed enough that they are able to continue their healing and growth and accountability in a less formal structure afterwards? And I think that if that was one of the criteria we may see accountability processes very different.

But I think that we have to begin shifting the ways we talk about harm that is done, the ways we talk about who is doing this harm, because I think that, you know, and I think that things like the #MeToo campaign, and this response to individual men who have committed sexual assault and sexual harassment, is you know, we have to see that it is pervasive, that it is something that happens. We often talk about how many women and gender nonconforming folks have experienced sexual assault, but we don’t talk about how many folks are assaulting, right? And I think that we have to talk about that, because that is where it is most awful and uncomfortable, to think about people in our lives, people we care about, people we respect, who are committing this harm. And yet, that is the case. And if we don’t talk about that, we cant begin to actually transform our communities. And then we just rely on these individual instances and our response to them, which will continue to feel inadequate, unless we really begin to shift how we’re thinking about it, and have these larger conversations about the culture, and the pervasiveness of intimate violence and sexual violence.

TFSR-WG:: You touched on #MeToo and other initiatives which highlight survivors of sexual assault. I was wondering if you had any more reflections on how much they break from normative narratives, or alternatively do they uphold narratives, or is that not really a helpful framework for thinking about that?

W: I mean, I’m of the mind — my co-editor for Octavia’s Brood, Adrienne Maree Brown, talks a lot about growing possibilities, and so I think that there is no one right way to do things. I think that there are actually, – we live in a quantum universe so there infinite possibilities, and to me, infinite ways to create justice. And so for me, as long as folks are holding on to their values and principles, I think that the work can and should move in many different ways. So when we do Octavia’s Brood, we do workshops, and we ask folks to say practicing “yes, and” rather than “no, but.” I think that we live in a ‘no, but…” society. There is one right answer, so all the rest must be wrong, right? This dichotomy which creates hierarchy. Rather than saying yes and all these things can be true and therefore there is no hierarchy, it’s all decentralized, its all here and accessible. So, you know, I am thankful for the campaign, I am thankful to the Black woman visionary who created and held that campaign for 10 years before it’s — this kind of mainstream resurrection . I’ve seen many positive things come out of the campaign and I think there are great conversations that are happening, and I think that to me, it is about capturing moments. And so I think that this is a moment that we can be using to ask these bigger questions so that it becomes about, “How do we fundamentally change a rape culture. how do we fundamentally shift the ways that institutionalized oppression have been ingrained in us, and how do we envision and begin to build something different?”

TFSR-DV: Absolutely, and I’m not surprised that in speaking with you, that I hear you asking all these questions, and really posing kind of how you think about the world in question form, because that really came across in book, in a way, that it really feels like the whole book is about posing questions. And certainly for folks who are familiar with your other work, that also questions is very much a through-line in the way that you do your work. And to us, we felt that questioning and kind of like seeking out more conversation and not seeking closure is very much like an intrinsically anarchist thing, and we wondering if you would talk a little bit about your relationship to anarchism.

W: Sure. Yeah, I definitely think that asking questions is incredibly important for may reasons. And you know — a number of folks have been disappointed by the book, because they are like, “You just asked questions, you didn’t give us the answers.” [Laughs] Like, boo, if I had the answers, I would have done something along time ago. But I also think even more importantly than that is the understanding and importance, and the value of collectively, and recognize that no one person is going to have the answers, and anyone who says they have all the answers is lying to themselves or to you. And I think that the recognition that is part of that collective process that will ultimately help us build different futures, and come up with new questions. Because this movement for change, there’s no end point. It’s a continual revolution in the fundamental sense of that word, in continual movement. And you know, I think some folks could feel depressed about that. I choose to feel incredibly hopeful, because it means that we continually have the opportunity to ask ourselves is this the world we want to live in? And we continually have the opportunity to re-envision the part, as we grow, that we also want to grow.

And so, to me, those are a lot of my principles and values, and I do believe that the idea of anarchism can be useful and helpful. I identify politically closest as an anarchist. I also think that to me, if a label is useful in encapsulating ideas in a way that helps move work forward, then use them, and if it doesn’t, then keep the values and principles and move on. And also, as a Black woman, I want to recognize that a lot of what we call anarchism, which we think of as being created by these old european white dudes, are actually principles and values and ways of being and ways of knowing that communities of color have practiced for eternity. And so, I also think it important to acknowledge and recognize that this information is not something that is separate from oppressed peoples, it is something that actually comes from oppressed peoples and that, in may, ways it’s about time traveling and having those values and principles help us to inform and envision different futures.

TFSR-DV: I love what you said about the label being useful only if it moves the work forward, and that actually reminds me a lot of things that I’ve heard people, particularly who do prisoner support, say, because it is a space where you’re offering solidarity and you’re offering support, and sometimes you’re offering it to people who aren’t ideologically on the exact same page as you, and it becomes an evolution of your relationship to that person and the reasons that you’re in relationship to them. So I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about, beyond just about yr brother, and how you write about, your experience with supporting incarcerated people, and maybe, like, your best practices around that.

W: Yeah, I mean, I don’t know that I have a checklist, but I think for me I have been incredibly lucky and honored to learn and be mentored by many different folks who have been and are incarcerated, and to work in solidarity and as compañeros with those folks. I would not be the person I am as a human, as someone involved in change or as an artist without the mentorship and guidance and leadership of folks who are incarcerated. So for me, I think it’s important to see folks who are incarcerated who you are engaging with as, A. Part of the community, because they absolutely are; and B. As folks you are working with rather than helping or working for. I think that a lot of folks who get involved come in and are often white folks. They come in with a savior mentality, and folks who are incarcerated and more, broadly, POC don’t need saviors, they need allies.

Because some of the most courageous, innovative, incredible organizing work is happening in prisons, behind these walls, in some of the worst conditions possible. And we on the outside have so much to learn, and we need the wisdom – we need that leadership, we need that ingenuity and creativity, and bravery. And so, I think it’s important to come from that perspective, rather than coming from the perspective of, “I’m doing this to help this person,” rather than coming from the perspective of saying, “I’m doing this because we are both in shared struggle, and this person has a lot to share with me about that, and I want to be in communion and in conversation with this person to be able to make our communities and make our world better.”

TFSR-DV: Absolutely, thank you for that.

TFSR-WG: Yeah, definitely. Perhaps to veer off topic just for a moment, you’ve mentioned Octvia’s Brood throughout this interview, and this is an anthology of speculative fiction that you co-edited. Will you talk  little bit about how this project compared to Angels With Dirty Faces? Like similarities, differences..?

W: So Octavia’s Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice Movements is an anthology of fantastical writing by activists, organizers, and change-makers. So it’s science fiction created by people doing work on the ground to envision different futures. My co-editor, Adrienne, and I created the anthology with the premise that all organizing is science fiction, and therefore all organizers are creators and visionaries of science fiction, because these worlds — they are trying to imagine a world without borders, without prisons, a world without sexual violence — that is science fiction, because we haven’t seen that world. But also recognize we need imaginative spaces like science fiction, where we can explore beyond the boundaries of what we’re told is possible, because we cant build what we can’t imagine. Imagination is the first step to new worlds.

So we have to have spaces where we can throw out what we’ve been told is realistic and possible, and instead start with the question, “What do we want? What is a world we want to live in? “ And I’ve – yeah. This project has been incredible. It’s something – we spent five yeas putting the book out, and it is something that has helped me be more visionary in my life and in my work, and I very much see Angels With Dirty Faces as connected with that. It was funny because I worked on Angels With Dirty Faces for ten years. So I started it well before we even had the idea of Octavia’s Brood, but it came out after Octavia’s Brood. And so, when I would tell people, “I have a book coming out,” and they would be like, “Oh, is it science fiction?” and I would be like, “No, it’s a creative nonfiction book about prisons and harm,” and they’re like, “Whoa, that’s really different.” I’m like, “Is it?” [laughter]. Because in my mind, again, they’re intimately connected because the reason I think it’s important to put Angels With Dirty Faces is to create the space so that we can imagine diff futures. And to me, you know, Angels With Dirty Faces is about helping to cultivate the values that will allow us to build a different world. And so for me, all of my work is connected. And I understand why other folks are like “You just jump around a lot,” but I feel strongly that, I’ve hoped that my work is able to embody sort of a visionary ethos and aesthetic that allows to create space for more possibilities, as my co-editor Adrienne says. 

TFSR-WG: That’s so excellent. You mentioned you write poetry. do you write  speculative fiction as well?

W: I do, yes. And I write science fiction poetry as well.

TFSR-WG: Excellent. How can people get their hands on that?

W: I’m still working on it. So I’m working on a book of science fiction poetry that is called Tubman’s Uncertainty Principle and looks at Black women’s liberation movements through the lens of quantum physics. [laughter] So nerdy. I do love the project because when I tell people, I find my folks real quick. Cause most people’s reaction is “Um, what now?” But the folks like you who are like [audible gasp] [laughter] — there my people are. [inaudible due to laughter] So I’m working on that, and I’ve been working on some science fiction short stories and projects as well, so I have some sci-fi stories that have been put out in various places, but I’m still sort of working on putting out more work on that. But right now, my main project is actually a nonfiction historical book on Oregon Black history, because I live in Oregon. So yet again, you’re jumping to something new and I’m like, I don’t really see it a being different, but I feel you.

TFSR-WG: Yeah, for sure. That all sounds super super exciting. I remember seeing just a YouTube talk that you did, or a talk on YouTube that you did about the racist history of Oregon and I definitely learned a lot. I think you did it anywhere between 3 and 5 years ago, or something like that, and I got a lot out of it.
Those are all of the questions that we had. Is there anything else you wanted to add a a part of this interview? 

W: I don’t think so.

TFSR-WG: Well, Walidah Imarisha, thank you so much for coming on to this show for an extremely thought-provoking and incisive interview. Yeah, thank you so much for your time, and your energy, and for this book you’ve written. It’s been great to have you on.

W: Well, thanks so much for having me, and for creating spaces to have these conversations. There aren’t enough, so I’m thankful for the space that y’all are holding.

TFSR-WG: Yeah, absolutely.

TFSR-DV: It’s been wonderful.

W: Thank you.

TFSR-WG: Thanks for listening to our interview with Walidah Imarisha. Again, more can be found from er at www.walidah.com

Betsy Raasch-Gilman on Anarchism, Organizing and Movement for a New Society

Betsy Raasch-Gilman on Anarchism, Organizing and Movement for a New Society

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This week, we share a conversation that Bursts had with Betsy Raasch-Gilman. Betsy is a lifelong Quaker, feminist and anti-capitalist. She talks about her experiences organizing as an anarchist during the Cold War with Movement for a New Society, difficulties of critiquing capitalism within the peace movement, anti-nuke organizing, modeling consensus and affinity group organizing, alternative and cooperative models, attempting to ground organizing in anti-racism, separatism, organizing with the Marxist Left and more. Later in the conversation, Betsy talks about her engagement in the RNC Welcoming Committee against the 2008 Twin Cities Republican National Convention, the conspiracy trial that she almost got roped into, security culture and police spies and what she’s excited about now in the current terrain.

You can find out more about the work that Betsy is doing these days, check out Training For Change.

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Transcription

TFSR: We’re speaking with Betsy Rasch Gilman, a longtime anarchist from St. Paul. We decided to chat about being an anarchist during periods of low time in US anarchism. We’ll cover a lot more during this conversation. But thank you very much for taking the time to chat, Betsy.

Betsy: Delighted.

TFSR: Can you talk a bit about your upbringing? Were you a red– or black-diaper baby? Did you have any religious upbringing that might have influenced you?

B: Yeah, I was actually a pink-diaper baby. My mother identified as a socialist at that time. She now identifies as a green, but I was brought up with the idea that socialism was a perfectly acceptable political philosophy. That was really a foundational piece for me. That was in a time when to be called a communist or a socialist was– It was a dirty word. It was a derogatory label. So the fact that my mother was willing to say she was a socialist was pretty important to me. As for my religious background, my parents were Quakers, they had worked in a Quaker work camp before I was born. But there was no Quaker Meeting in St. Paul, Minnesota when I grew up. So they sent me to the Unitarian Church instead, and the Unitarian seemed great to me, but as soon as there was a Quaker Meeting available to go, I started going to Quaker meetings. I’m still a practicing Quaker.

TFSR: A lot of listeners may not have familiarity with Quakers. Can you talk about what the tradition is, where it comes from, and how it overlaps – because it seems to really overlap with a lot of very conscious political activity, not that there’s a specific tendency to it, but that there’s an engagement in this world that’s really important to it?

B: That’s right. Quakers are Christians, liberal Protestant Christians. Quakers do have a real orientation towards social justice and social service. It’s a historic peace church. Quakers are pacifists, by and large. The exception to all these rules I’m telling you was Richard Nixon.

TFSR: No idea. Whoa!

B: He comes from a branch of Quakerism, that is of the evangelical variety of Christianity. He was a Quaker, embarrassingly enough to the rest of us. But we often engage in issues of war and peace, racial justice, and equality of women and female-bodied people to male-bodied people. Justice issues are just right across the board. We were on the cutting edge of Protestants who would marry gay and lesbian couples before it was legal to do so. Quakers pride themselves on this stuff. The social engagement varies from one location to another in one congregation. We call them meetings actually, not congregations, we use different language than most Christian churches do. But it varies a lot from one location to another. But I belong to the most progressive, the most politically liberal branch of Quakers. The little factoid about us is we worship in silence. So there’s no prepared ministry. Occasionally somebody will speak out of the silence when they feel like they have something to say that might be of interest and use to the rest of the group. But we don’t have paid ministry. So in my branch of the denomination, others do it differently.

TFSR: Thank you. So you became involved in the Movement for a New Society in the 1970s? What were this network and its vision for revolutionary change?

B: The Movement for a New Society was a network of individuals and groups that wanted to pick up from the end of the Vietnam War protests, as the Vietnam War was winding down and in the wake of the actual government quashing of the civil rights movement, the repression of the civil rights movement, activists who wanted to continue the work on into the future. And also who were informed by the publication of a book, which is not usually remembered now, but it was called Limits to Growth. It was a study about the ecological damage that industrial society is doing to the planet. Basically, it put out that capitalism is limited by the amount of exploitation that they can do on the planet. So there are limits to growth. Capitalism is really based upon the economic growth of expansion.

So those threads – the anti-war thread, the civil rights or social, racial equality thread, the environmental thread, and feminism were another big piece of the MNS. It got started in the very early 1970’s, and the white feminist movement was very strong at that point, and MNS incorporated a lot of things from the feminist movement, also from the gay rights struggle. Stonewall was in 1968, so the gay rights struggle was very much in full swing when MNS began. So, we incorporated a bunch of different strands, and we incorporated anarchism. MNS was anti-capitalist, I think, is what we really can say. Some of us were more anarchist in orientation, and some of us were more socialist in orientation. But we were definitely anti-capitalists. We saw these six overarching realities, as we called them, which I’m not sure I can name anymore. But capitalism was one of them, patriarchy was another, racial hatred was another – things that we had to address at the same time in order to do what we wanted to do, which was to overthrow the United States government. We wanted to do that through non-violence. So it was a very ambitious undertaking.

In our own defense, I can say, I mean, you might listen to that and think “Were these people nuts or what?”, but I want to say that the times were very different in the early 1970’s, and really, throughout the 70’s. It’s very common now to talk about the 60’s as being a time of real turmoil, and it was. The 1970’s, though, was a time of really exploding political growth and multiplying efforts to change the very fabric of US society and the economy. So the 1970’s were not so much turbulent, but a really productive time. A time when it was easy to be hopeful. I recently reread a book that was published in the mid-70’s by Marge Piercey called Woman on the Edge of Time.

TFSR: Oh, it’s so good. That’s one of my favorite novels.

B: I was really struck, it was my third time reading it. But rereading it now, I thought “Wow”. She seemed so hopeful about the possibilities that this utopian society of the future could be pretty much on the verge of just mopping up the last bit of resistance. I can’t remember the year she said at the end, but it was like 2050, or something like that. I thought, “Whoa, that is a very optimistic view of the world and one that I probably subscribed to at the time that Piercey was writing.” It was interesting to look back on that and say, “Ha, it looked easier then.”

So, MSN, one of the things that I’m rather fond of saying is that generally, as a whole, we mistook a clear vision for a short distance. We were pretty clear about the world we wanted to live in, but we were way optimistic about how quickly that would happen. As I said, it was a very ambitious program of completely overthrowing the United States government, and oh, by the way, patriarchy and the oh, by the way, militarism, and oh, by the way, capitalism, and all the rest of the things that form the repressive nature of our society still today. That was Movement for New Society, we were small groups of people scattered throughout the country. We had connections with folks and members in other parts of the world, too, primarily Southeast Asia and Canada, wo we were somewhat international.

We had much more influence because we had a very active program of training. We worked up a program of training in social change skills. We would have weekend workshops that were an introduction to Movement for New Society, primarily in Philadelphia. But then also, two-week training programs for people who wanted to learn the skills of social activism in a living way, people mostly came to Philadelphia for those training programs. There was a year-long training program as well, for people who would move to Philly, find jobs, move into a communal household in Philly, and just devote themselves to that project for a year. We had a lot of influence, an outsized influence for the number of people we were, which was really a fairly small group. I don’t think we’ve probably had more than 200 officially, at any given time.

TFSR: That really is surprising considering how big of an impact the activities that you all engaged with were.

B: Yeah. The other piece of it was that as we had a network that had branches around the country, we spread issues through the issues that we worked on in one place, and we would spread those issues to another place. Since we had those connections with one another, these spark-plug people all over the country were participating in the same movements and spreading the influence that way as well.

TFSR: You had mentioned that a lot of elements within the MNS were anarchist, and you’ve described yourself as one. When did you start describing yourself as an anarchist? Who and what influenced or inspired you to do that?

B: I was thinking about that recently. While I was in MNS, one of the things I did early on was to participate in a study group, which was a self-run study group, we looked at different political philosophies. A small group of us got together, and each of us would read a small chunk of a book or a chapter and bring it back. We read different things, and we’d bring back a little description of what it was we had read so that we could cover more ground together than we could cover alone. The study group had the philosophies of anarchism, socialism, feminism, and ecology – those were the four ones that we looked at. That’s when I really began to understand what anarchism was. One of the books that we read, and I still have on my shelf, was called The Anarchist Collectives. It was a compilation edited by Sam Dolgoff with an introduction by Murray Bookchin, it was about the Spanish anarchist collectives in the Spanish war. That was really foundational to my understanding of how we might organize our society in the future. I resonated with the anarchist vision. I never felt really antagonistic towards a socialist vision, but boy, if I was going to put my effort into something, it would be the more anarchist combination of worker-managed economy and neighborhood or geographically based neighborhood organizations that would run social life and relationships. Later we put that together also with a vision of ecological bioregions within the North American continent, and the possibility of breaking down the structure of the United States into these bioregions so that the economy, which is based on the geology and the biology of an area would be– We might wind up with seven or eight smaller social-ecological groupings, where these worker-run collectives and neighborhood-run collectives could work on a smaller scale. So that we would not have the large nation-states of the United States, Canada, and Mexico, but rather than we would be working on making decisions based on the bioregion that we happen to be in, and what was good for the planet, and how we could sustain ourselves within that physical area. Those were some of the pieces that formed my understanding of anarchism and where I got my introduction, where I got my start.

I should also say that in the Movement for New Society, we probably put more attention as a group, as a whole into defining feminism and our relationship to feminism and how feminism informed all of us, and what we did. This is the context of the time that the feminist movement was very strong, the anarchist and socialist movements were not as strong. Partly because of the stigma that was attached to anything that could be labeled socialist, or, God forbid, communist. The left was very allergic to the idea of any critique of capitalism. That applied a little bit to people within MNS, that there’s just a certain “Oh, I don’t want to mess with that area,” but feminism that I can really relate to, that I can really understand. It’s a very clear and very important piece of our political development, our political program, we have a lot of unlearning to do in order to create the society that we want to live in, and that feminism is a big piece of the remaking of our world. In practice – I think it was 18 years that Movement for the Society Existed – we probably put more effort into defining and working with feminism than we did with either socialism or anarchism.

TFSR: There are a lot of different approaches to feminism that people come with, as you mentioned before “white feminism”, and you could pose that with black feminism or POC feminism that specifically takes in either specific people’s experiences with the intersections – intersectionality, I think, was a new thing at this time that was really being introduced into activist lingo – intersections of race and class and gender and region and all these things. Even if you were mostly talking about feminism, what seemed to correlate between an anti-capitalist approach and a feminist approach?

B: The exploitation of the planet was a big one, that the planet is treated like our female body is treated, and that patriarchy violates female bodies and the planet regularly. That’s the first thing that comes to my mind. Within MNS, we grappled a lot with lesbian separatism. Movement for New Society was an all-gender-welcome organization and we also recognize that the most creative, the most radical, and the most visionary work came from lesbians. Many other women who were involved in Movement for New Society identified as lesbian. It received some critique and also some curiosity from the lesbian separatist women of the feminist movement at the time. “You know, why are you working in an organization with men?” But then on the other hand “Really? Some men will take feminism seriously?”

I remember a specific example of that, we had a group of lesbians who were organizing a march in the Twin Cities called The Women Against Violence Against Women march in 1979. Some of the women from MNS were talking about the possibility of men heckling the march, the march was planned for late at night through a district that had a lot of porn movie theaters, and bookstores that sold pornography. So the women in the planning group were saying, “We’re going to be harassed by these men”, and one of the feminist women said, “Well, I think I know some men who would act as marshals, they would talk to other men and keep men from disrupting our march either because they thought they were supportive, and they’d marched in front of us and guard us, we don’t want that. That’s not the idea of the march. But we have some men who would be on our side, and who would work with other men to make the march go smoothly and try to keep men in check. And it was like “You do, you know some men like that? Are you kidding me?” That was the reaction from women who were not part of the Movement for New Society that they didn’t really trust that there were men who took feminism seriously, and who would pitch in to make a success specifically a woman-run, woman-centered march. So that was part of it that the possibility of a group working together across genders for the eradication of patriarchy was inspirational too. We got some grudging respect as well for the possibility of tackling that problem. I’ve gotten way off the topic of anarchism, that was a tension that we worked with within MNS, around lesbian separatism, and the critique of what we were doing from that angle, but also the curiosity about it, too.

TFSR: Just to get further away from the tendency. That makes me think of how much you were carrying influences over from the Civil Rights Movement when you did have white people putting their bodies on the line in solidarity with black folks and people of color, who didn’t get to choose to put their lives on the line to go vote or to go participate or to go to the store or use public transport or whatever. That thing shows you what a future can look like and that a future can look different.

B: This tension over separatism was also a carryover from the Civil Rights Movement, because part of the Black, struggle for liberation, really didn’t want white participation and certainly didn’t want any white leadership. Like, if you white people get in here, you’re just going to screw everything up, let us alone. So there was a very definite Black separatist movement in the late 1970s. There was a definite lesbian separatist movement in the early 1980s too.

TFSR: The approach that Movement for New Society was taking by identifying these specific elements within society that are problematic, and the people or the things that are affected by those negative things and organizing against those by holding those things together, it seems to me to counterpose the Marxist or the Maoist approach, which is generally that there’s a central revolutionary identity or central struggle that everything else has to be put to the wayside of the back-burner for, whether it be the gender issue of the lesbian separatists, or the race issue of some of the Black Liberation separatists, or the Marxian workerist approach that only views the worker identity as the important and revolutionary position to take.

B: Exactly, we were very consciously countering that reductionist approach. Because when we talked about our six overarching realities, we said, “These are all true, and we need to address them all.” And we’re not going to say, “One is primary and the others are secondary.”

TFSR: Yeah, that’s fascinating. That must have been a point of contention in the political world at that time.

B: Yeah, the Marxists didn’t like that very much.

TFSR: But it still is, too. People get their blinders on. It’s also hard when you look through history and you hear about struggles for change, or revolutionary struggles being co-opted by other sides, as opposed to people coming together necessarily and finding a balance, where you can hold all these things at the same time and agree they’re all wrong. It doesn’t have to be some sort of hierarchy of who is missing out the most based on the terribleness of our society.

B: I still believe that that’s a non-starter. It’s a way that we keep ourselves being less powerful than we could be.

TFSR: In this period, as the Cold War burned, the largest anti-capitalist tendencies were the statists, I imagine with people looking to the Warsaw Pact nation, or other state-capitalist ventures calling themselves communist as the natural alternatives to the imperialism at home and abroad in the USA, with nuclear war looming very closely overhead. Wonder what that reminds me of? Can you talk about what organizing during this period as an anarchist was like?

B: You mentioned nuclear war, one of the places where the Movement for New Society put a lot of energy was into the Peace Movement that bloomed under Reagan. President Reagan came into office in 1981 and immediately started a really dangerous program of saber-rattling with the Soviet Union, which existed at that time. It scared a lot of us. That scared us a lot. There was a large Peace Movement as a reaction to this. It was also international. People in Germany, Great Britain, and Italy also reacted because actually, the nukes were stationed on their soil, the US had some but the US was putting its nukes over in Germany and over in France, and in Italy, and they didn’t like that idea very much they were going to be first out if there was a nuclear exchange. So it was an international Peace Movement at that time. I remember that, within Movement for New Society, we tried to influence that Peace Movement in the direction of a critique of capitalism. But if I began to talk about having a critique of capitalism as being a piece of the militaristic, jingoistic thing that was going on, other passive peace-oriented people would say, “Oh, well, we can’t talk about that. We can’t really go there, we were not communist.” It was easier to make a connection with the abuse of the environment by the military, it was certainly easier to make connections about the military’s patriarchal foundations. It was harder to make the connections between the military’s effect on our economy and the fact that the whole economy of the United States is still structured on the military. It’s a very large chunk of our economy, was then, and still is. Reagan was busy making it a bigger and bigger piece of the economy. It was hard to bring those things up and say, “Look, capitalism is a problem. It’s a part of the problem.” Generally speaking, when I brought those that critique up, I got shut down because people were still so nervous about being labeled communist. The Soviet Union existed, and it was the big enemy. And other statists based on the Marxist fringe– Well, I shouldn’t say fringe, the Marxist brothers and sisters had the same difficulty even worse than mine. There was a group called the American Soviet Friendship Committee that I worked with in the anti-nuclear movement, or nuclear weapons movement. They were pretty much all old communists. They couldn’t say that they were communists. They’d said they were the American Soviet Friendship Committee. But basically, they were all old communists. So there was a lot of that disguising an anti-capitalist critique in order to have some sway in the larger liberal leftist movement.

I just should flag here that I’m really talking about a very white context here, that the Peace Movement was really white. It might have been different if it had been more diverse racially and ethnically. But it was not, and to organize from an anarchist point of view was tough because of this real allergy to anything that critiqued capitalism. Now, jumping ahead a bit, when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1989, I didn’t see the ripple effect immediately. But within the next five years, it was much more possible to say, “Look, I think capitalism is really a problem” and not get shut down by other leftists that I was trying to work with. Easier to say, “What the problem is, it’s right there. It’s capitalism.” And people were becoming much more receptive to that by the time that the US invaded Iraq, Desert Storm, specifically, I remember in the organizing against that invasion, people were definitely willing to entertain that capitalism was a problem. But that was also the beginning of globalization, the push for corporate globalization. There was a guy named H. Ross Perot who ran for president in 1992 with a well a critique of globalization. After Perot had begun to raise questions about what corporate globalization would do to us, it became much more possible to talk about the impacts of corporate capitalism and to develop a critique of that and have people say, “Yeah, you’re right, certainly, it’s not doing the planet any favors either.”

I would say that during the whole period of the 1980’s into the early 1990’s, it was awfully hard to come out and say, “Okay, let’s organize for an anarchist future.” It really couldn’t be done. Personally, as an activist, I think Movement for New Society laid itself down in 1988. So we didn’t survive the 80’s. But others within MNS had the same basic approach that we would organize with what was available. So that was often the Peace Movement, the anti-war movement, social justice movements, and increasing movements throughout the 80’s for racial equality and feminism. The women’s movement really lasted right into the mid-late 80’s as a movement. So we went with what we could, where we could actually make some headway or some progress. I never forgot that I was working towards a future that would be basically an anarchist collectivist future. I kept bringing it up when it was possible to do and sometimes surprised people by saying, “Well, this is the future I want to live in. I do not want to have the United States as an entity even exist any longer” and lay out my future. I remember somebody saying, “You really thought about this?” I said, “Yeah. I thought about this quite a bit, actually. So the anarchist ideals really informed me, they were in the background of everything I was trying to do. But to organize around the anarchism was tough until the Soviet Union fell apart. It got more possible through the 1990’s.

TFSR: Some of the ideas and actions that the Movement for New Society is remembered for include its application of non-violent direct action and spokes council models and the forming and actions related to the resistance against the Nixon administration’s project of proliferating nuclear power plants like little bunnies around the country, like little explosive bunnies. Can you talk about the role of the Movement for New Society that it played in this period and the role of resisting nuclear power plants alongside resisting the nuclear weapons and war that you mentioned earlier?

B: I think in many ways the anti-nuclear movement, beginning with the occupation of the power plant that was under construction at Seabrook, New Hampshire, that was a trigger point for the anti-nuclear movement generally. Part of why it did explode nationwide after Seabrook was because of the Movement for New Society. The authorities at Seabrook did a very stupid thing. They arrested 1,400 people who were occupying this site where the power plant was supposed to be built and locked them up in seven national guard armories for two weeks while they tried to process all these arrestees. Well, for two weeks, they had a little mini-training camp inside each of these armories.

TFSR: Siberia, this is where the Tsar went know, right?

B: Exactly. Movement for New Society activists were in probably most of those armories organizing workshops, facilitating spokes council meetings, and working to resolve– It wasn’t pleasant being locked up in those armories, people got into each other’s faces. But MNS folks, we tried to be people who could handle conflict in a creative fashion, rather than just trying to shut it down or tell people just don’t talk to each other or things like that. We tried to actually address what could we learn from the conflict we’re having. That was just a nice little training camp that the authorities provided.

When people were released from those armories, they went back home to wherever they’d come from and they started their own anti-nuclear power movements. It was the Clamshell Alliance that occupied the Seabrook plant, but all these little alliances started springing up all over the country. In my area, there was the Northern Thunder Alliance, and there was the Northern Sun Alliance. There was a one around Chicago that I’m blanking on right now. A bunch of these anti-nuclear alliances got started all with the same basic spokes council structure, the same basic grassroots up the non-hierarchical structure of how to organize a movement, and all these alliances staying in touch with what each other was doing and from time to time helping out. Diablo Canyon was another big issue and nuclear power plant built on an earthquake fault if you can believe that.

TFSR: A really good idea.

B: So when Diablo Canyon needed bodies, they could call on the alliances in other parts of the country to come in and help to conduct their actions. Movement for New Society was never very large in numbers. But because of this training aspect of what we did, we had a big impact, especially on the anti-nuclear movement. The same thing was true then for the Nuclear Freeze Movement that was built during the 1980s. Also, the Pledge of Resistance to the US invasion of Nicaragua was another place where the Movement for New Society participated in this way of trying to network together things that were happening all over the place, and also provide training to people who are coming into activism for the first time or new to activism. Sometimes we joked that process was our most important product because a lot of it had to do with just how do we work together? How do we treat each other? How do we make decisions together? How do we be democratic, radically democratic? And a lot of that was informed by anarchism, the idea that we don’t want a central committee making the decisions for us. We want to make the decisions ourselves. In order to do that, we have to have processes that will allow as many voices to be heard as we can and yet be able to make clear decisions and be able to move forward, not get ourselves bogged down and just rehearsing the same stuff over and over again. So that was the process piece that MNS tried to offer to all the movements that we were involved with. It’s really quite fundamentally anarchist in its approach.

TFSR: So y’all are to blame for all those really long consensus meetings that I have to sit through?

B: Alas! We tried to do better than that, you should have seen our own gatherings.

TFSR: No, that’s interesting. Since I came up in the anti– or alter-globalization movement, that’s when I came into anarchist politics, the people in Northern California who were teaching about nonviolent direct action, doing trainings, who were talking about consensus, about the spokes council model, which that isn’t something I had seen put in place until the anti-war protests in 2003 in San Francisco. It’s interesting to pinpoint how these processes got tied in with not just protest politics but were the radical influences that were integrated with it came in.

So, another aspect of the work that the Movement for New Society participated in was alternative economic models within capitalism. The idea of building an alternative inside of capitalism and using that as a base of struggle is an idea that has replanted itself its own roots in the last 10 years in the US with conversations about infrastructure and autonomy. It goes further back you can point to the Zapatistas who are a clear example of the same thing, which for my generation was a huge influence and how we tried to do politics. Can you talk about what was the model, the role, and the application that you were aware of in pushes for cooperative business models, collective projects, and land trusts?

B: Yeah, that is another place that Movement for New Society made a big dent because the cooperative movement based on a critique of capitalism was pretty strong in the 1970’s. I wish it were that strong now, personally, the way I made a living was working for about 11 years altogether at a food coop, and I was part of the collective management of a food coop in Minneapolis. I know a lot about alternative economic institutions that we could talk about for an hour on that alone. Again, I’m talking from the Midwest, Minnesota, where there was a long tradition, actually going back to the 1920’s, of economic cooperation came with the Finnish immigrants to Michigan and Minnesota, Wisconsin. Also, the Swedes brought up a model of economic cooperation. So there already were coops. We called it the third wave of food coops in the 1970’s that came out of a countercultural youth movement, primarily white. My short answer is that the cooperative movement I was a part of was good for practicing and developing ideas. It made me feel quite skeptical about the possibility of really reforming capitalism that way.

We existed as a food coop. There was a very great network of food coops at that point, and a network of other kinds of coops – housing cooperatives, and land trusts that you mentioned. A bunch of experiments with how to use cooperation as a basis for economic life rather than competition. But we existed within the structure of capitalism, and we, unfortunately, succumbed to the structure of capitalism. The problem is the word “capital”. In order to do much of anything, we needed capital, that’s the whole basis of the capitalist system. So we got lucky in that we could start a bunch of small businesses, low-skilled – running a food coop does not require a whole lot of skill. A lot of people can put cans on shelves and can drag around boxes of produce and stuff like that. But so at low-skilled, we came in on the end of the mom-and-pop grocery stores, and supermarkets were actually developing and putting those grocery stores out of business. We moved into the actual literal buildings and the coolers and the equipment, the cash registers left behind by these mom-and-pop operations that had to fold up shop, and couldn’t compete with the supermarkets. We filled in a very specialized niche of natural foods. Very few people really cared about natural foods in the early 1970’s. So we had a market niche of natural foods, and we had the infrastructure, and it was a low-skilled operation. So we could capitalize on it with our labor, which is what we did. At the coop where I worked, a share of stock was $2. You became a member and earned a discount by volunteering your time. You got to vote in the running of the cooperative because you had that $2 share of stock. But you also had to put some time in, a certain number of hours in order to be a voting member. People were not really interested or thinking about the possibility of redistributing wealth through the cooperative structure – I was. Even though coops have changed dramatically since that time and gotten very quite glitzy and upscale, I still shop at coops because it basically tries to keep the wealth in as many hands as possible. The cooperative structure gives any profit back to the people who’ve invested in it and who’s created that work.

TFSR: Whether it be the worker-owned or the consumer cooperative, right?

B: Right. In my area of the country anyway, we started out with worker coops. So that the working made your membership and made your profit. You got rewarded for the number of hours you’d put in. Most coops in the late 1970’s throughout the mid-1980’s converted to the consumer coop model because of the capital problem. They needed more capital and they needed to raise actual money, not just labor, but money to buy new coolers, expand the stores, to remake the stores. As I said at the beginning, capitalism is premised on growth, the ability to grow. That affected us as cops as well, we wanted to sell more stuff, there was more food available that we could sell, the organic farming really took off in a big way. We could sell more stuff, people demanded more stuff, people’s expectations of what a coop or a grocery store would look like, everything around us was being more bourgeois and more upscale. That pressure was on the coops to do the same thing. I can talk about this because my coop was one of the last holdouts of a worker-owned coop in the Twin Cities. We consciously talked about how do we not grow, and how do we be successful without growing. We’d never come up with an answer to that. We had to say that the pressure in a capitalist society means that we really can’t do what we would like to do. We are going to have to grow, we are going to have to have a bit of new building, we’re going to have to move to a place where we have more room, we can carry more stuff, the coolers are not breaking down all the time, we have to buy more stuff. All of that requires more capital.

We managed to get away because we’ve been successful early on, we had some reserves. So we managed to get away without turning into a consumer coop. But we also fold it. But it was a good 30-year run. It was 30 years by the time that coop folded and I wasn’t involved till the bitter end. But to me, it really pointed out the difficulty with trying to form an alternative economic system from within the shell of the old one. Capitalism is so difficult, it doesn’t give us a lot of room to do something different. So I hate to be discouraging in saying this. But I think it’s really important to go into this with eyes open, otherwise, we spend a fair amount of time pursuing, essentially a utopian strategy that we can somehow create our own little island over here that is separate from the capitalist system. I have a great big critique of utopianism to the extent that an alternative economic system participates in a utopian idea that just by doing the right thing over here, we’ll just get bigger and bigger. Our little coop movement will get bigger and bigger and bigger and will just take over the capitalist system. Everybody will see the logic of cooperation rather than competition. They’ll enjoy cooperation more than the competition. It’ll be more of a satisfying way of life. I still believe all that’s true, but it didn’t work. The capitalist system is far more insidious and far more difficult than I wish it were. The utopian way of going about social changes is just not very realistic.

TFSR: A bit naive, maybe.

B: Oh, yeah, just not very realistic. So that said, I also want to say that within anarchism, of course, there’s always been and there remains a real wish to create the new society that we want to live in right here right now. I must admit that as an activist of maybe 45 years within activism, has been sustained a lot by little groups of people, like-minded people who I can take my problems to, and they all understand the kinds of issues that I’m trying to deal with and give me pats on the back when I need them and that little huddling thing. Also, it’s very sustaining. But I think we’re making a mistake if we think that by doing an ideal little society, a little ideal community, anarchist or otherwise, that that’s going to make the revolution happen. It really does help and sustain us in trying to make the revolution happen. But it’s not the same thing as– That’s not the strategy. That’s not the strategy that’s going to work. It is really helpful and sustaining for organizing.

TFSR: Flash forward a bit. It was the Republican National Convention…

B: Oh, yes.

TFSR: You said that the Movement for New Society was laid down, which is a very peaceful way of saying it in 1988. In the meantime, before we get to the RNC, were there other activities that you were engaged with that you wanted to talk about, and between there and 2008?

B: One of the things that are true for me as an activist is that I’ve never quit. I did sustain my own activism. It was a big disappointment to me when Movement for New Society folded up. It was a really a very peaceful ending. We love each other still, I’m still in touch with people that I was friends with in the MNS. We had a series of reunions. So it wasn’t a bitter end at all. But we recognize that a revolution of the sort that we were talking about really could not be carried out only by white people. We were pretty much all white people, and we really weren’t able to get beyond our own cultural boundaries in order to become a more diverse organization. So we decided we were going to end it, rather than peter out in a really sad way. And we’ll see what comes next. So that was why we laid it down in 1988, with a real intentional process.

I continued to be involved in peacework, I founded and was part of a training collective doing the same training for social change and social change skills, and did that throughout the 1990s. Another organization that came out of the Movement of New Society in some ways is called Training for Change. I’m still involved in it. It’s really expanded far beyond anything MNS did, and much better. In the Training, we’re much better now than we were. So Training became a piece of what I continued to do. Then in 1999, I got a message from another old MNS person who lived in Seattle saying, “You know what, there’s this great big thing that’s going to be happening out here, called the WTO. Has anybody heard of this thing? This protest is gonna be a lot bigger than we’re gonna be able to do the training for. Could you all come?” I said, “Sure, I’ll come.” Without having really any idea what I was walking into, I walked into the WTO protests in 1999. From that time on till 2007, I was quite involved in the resistance to globalization. I did a lot of non-violence training around the country, then I even got to Germany to do some work with the groups that were opposing the G8 meeting in 2007. So the Global Justice Movement was a big part of what I did in the early 2000’s. There I found anarchists all of a sudden, oh my gosh, there are lots and lots of anarchists. That’s great! That was real excitement in getting involved in the Global Justice Movement.

Then “look at what’s coming to my town, the Republican National Convention, oh sweet hallelujah!” I became involved in the RNC Welcoming Committee. I participated in the Welcoming Committee pretty much throughout from when it was founded through to the convention. Then I participated in the committee to defend the RNC8. I nearly avoided being charged myself, I think, in large part, they didn’t want me in the case, because it would have made it harder to make a case against the RNC8. If I was the ninth, it would have been harder to make the case against us. So they left me out. But I would have been a major witness for the RNC8 had it gone to trial. Then I put two and a half years into the defense work afterward. So altogether, that was like about four years of very intense work, planning for the convention and then mopping up afterward. That was my story about the RNC8.

TFSR: The point of the Welcoming Committee was to help to sustain a protest against the Republican Party and the potential election and protest against the 2008 elections, basically. The RNC8 was a conspiracy trial that the state created against some of the people that were involved in the Welcoming Committee and coordinating groups to do protests during the convention. It seems like a product of surviving that was also learning a bunch of skills towards resisting state efforts at repression. And I know that, having been around Anarchist Black Cross groups and repression groups, and having friends that have either been on conspiracy trials or doing support work, it seems like this is a pretty fundamental learning point for movement. Basically, that repression is going to come when you try to resist. Can you talk about a few lessons that you can take away from doing support for the RNC8?

B: Yeah, I can’t say that I was super surprised that we experienced the repression that we did. I wish I had been more alert about exactly who their informants in our group were. I was not. Some of the things that I learned were ways to identify where we might be infiltrated. What I learned about how to identify infiltration. Partly it was a real lack of clarity about politics. Truth to tell, there was a lot of lack of clarity about politics in the Welcoming Committee. But four people turned out to be informants. It was always a little puzzling why they kept coming to our meetings. That is something that I will carry away as an indicator – if I’m puzzled about what is the motivation of this person for being here? Well, the motivation might be that they’re paid to be here. Ah, now the pieces fall into place. So that was a really good lesson.

I’ll say it even though it’s a little bit controversial, I was troubled with the security culture of the Welcoming Committee. Not that it wasn’t good enough, but it lent itself to real suspiciousness and a certain self-deception about how one could keep oneself entirely safe. I say that even though some of the people did excellent jobs at keeping themselves out of trouble, so I guess I’m still puzzling over that. I’m still asking myself… On the one hand, I was feeling a little bit like the way that we’re approaching the security culture seems to me not very realistic, and maybe a little self-delusional. But then it turns out, we were infiltrated. So wasn’t it really all that self-delusional? Well, no, I guess not. But it surely didn’t keep us safe either. Security culture might have made it a little more tough for the law enforcement, but they managed quite nicely to completely infiltrate us. So I don’t know, I’m still mulling over the lessons there. Of course, those were lessons that the Occupy Movement had to deal with also just a few years later. They were also quite thoroughly infiltrated. The Occupy movement was far more porous. There was so much coming and going, it wasn’t an intentionally small group of people working on a particular project like the Welcoming Committee was. I’m still chewing on those lessons. I think security culture is really necessary and also it can be outright detrimental to organizing, if you’re changing the location of your meeting because you’re afraid that somebody is going to infiltrate it, then the people that you want to come might not even know where to go. There’s some self-defeating stuff about security culture. Obviously, it’s so necessary, too. I’m still mulling this one and I don’t have a conclusion.

TFSR: That’s okay. I think that some of the more applicable approaches towards security culture that I’ve heard have been akin to what you mentioned, if I can’t figure out your motivation, maybe there’s something outside of the realm of possibilities that I’m thinking of what might be motivating you to do that. I think likewise, there are certain social patterns that people engage with sometimes when they’re operating with poor security culture, that may be conscious or unconscious, that relate to bragging about things, talking about things that aren’t their business to talk about other people’s experiences or histories, attempting to pressure people into things or create divisions or splits as opposed to addressing things, like if they have an issue addressing that clearly between people and attempting to de-escalate or find a solution to a problem. But then there’s “we need to like shift around, we need to change names every meeting,” at a certain point, it does become self-defeating and Kafkaesque. One of the other really important things that I can think of that came out of the resistance to the Republican National Convention in 2008, was the Minneapolis Principles… Just kidding.

B: Dah!

TFSR: Got ya, the St. Paul Principles. Yeah. Could you talk a little bit about that? What conversation led to that being adopted? What do you think the implications of that are?

B: The organizing to oppose the RNC was not just a Welcoming Committee, there was also a large march announced almost as soon as the RNC was announced. The Peace Movement announced a large march to be during the RNC. In the Twin Cities, we have a very active chapter of the Freedom Road Socialist Organization (FRSO). That was really the group that was working to a large mobilization, that was hoping to get several many thousands of people to come to the Twin Cities and protest. They were planning on a permitted legal march, and there was a great deal of concern and discussion between them and the Welcoming Committee about how an anarchist non-hierarchical spontaneous space could be created, where people could do their thing and not be marshaled into a prescribed behavior and also have this big march that grandparents and grandchildren and strollers and people in wheelchairs could participate in. So that was the origin of the St. Paul Principles. We had the luxury of 18 months in which to organize. The relations between the anti-authoritarian and anarchist Welcoming Committee and the socialist-informed Peace March were not really easy during the whole of these 18 months of organizing. As we grew closer, we started to say, “Okay, we got to figure this out.” There were four days of the convention and the Welcoming Committee had really aimed at the first day of the convention to do our actions. Of course, the Peace March wanted to be on the first day too. Then there were some other groups that some other actions that we’re hoping to get their time during the four days of the convention, one of them being the Welfare Rights Organization that was going to be doing a march on the second day, which didn’t have a real organizing presence locally until fairly close to the convention.

So, the Freedom Road Socialist Peace Movement, and the anti-authoritarian anarchist movement came together, and for about a month, we worked out the principles. I remember I wrote an early draft, which was way wordy. Other people wrote big, wordy drafts, too. Then we had just some sit down and talk about it at meetings, to come up with a very streamlined four principles. Two of those came from the Welcoming Committee, and two of those came from the Peace Movement. The principle of not criticizing each other in public was one of the things that we felt very strongly about. To divide the protesters into good protesters and bad protesters and have the Peace Movement critiquing the anarchists, people felt very strongly that this was not acceptable. We insisted on that. The Peace Movement really insisted that we separate the actions in space or time and we had to work out that conjunction, whether it was “or” or “and”. That little conjunction took a lot of work. We agreed that we could separate our actions in space or time. I am blanking on the other two because they weren’t quite as difficult to get an agreement on.

I have seen the St. Paul Principles recently, where somebody just declared that we were going to use the St. Paul Principles. I thought, no, wait for a second, you can’t just declare that we’re going to use the St. Paul Principles here. You have to get the agreement to use the principles here. That’s why they worked because we had the luxury of pre-planning and doing the hard discussion and building up some modicum of trust. It really was still not a very trusting relationship, even after we got the principles down. There was still a good deal of mutual distrust. Anarchists feeling like “Don’t you dare bring your marshals over and tell us what to do. We’re not going to promise not to use the march as a launching point for an anarchist action, or a more spontaneous action. We’re not going to be policed that way.” And the Peace Movement feeling like “Don’t you use us as protection, if you’re gonna do something that’s gonna bring the police down, don’t come running to us.” It was tense right through the action. In the event, of course, the police became the enemy of both of our groups.

TFSR: As it should be.

B: Yeah. The policing really took center stage. We had a whole lot more solidarity afterward because of the way that the police came down on us. I was really pleased to see the principles basically holding all through the follow-up actions, too, because we had all these arrests and trials. We had 400 people arrested just in one day, and they were charged largely with misdemeanors, we had 18 felonies besides the RNC8, and a whole bunch of misdemeanors, most of which never went to trial. Some of the felonies did. So we had a whole question of solidarity afterward, as well as solidarity in the event. And St. Paul Principles held, there was not a lot of recrimination of “If those nasty anarchists just hadn’t done this, then the whole thing would have gone over off so much better.” Or “If those spineless peace people hadn’t done that, we would have had a much stronger presence or a much stronger demonstration.” There was not that public recrimination. I felt really, really happy with the process that resulted in the St. Paul Principles and the way that they held up afterward.

They are a good basis for further action, as long as there’s a real discussion about “what do you mean by separated in space or time? What do you mean by public criticism? Does that include Facebook? Does that include Twitter?” There are ways that you really have to know what you’re agreeing to? I feel like the St. Paul Principles do strengthen our movement. Probably some of my MNS colleagues, if they heard me saying that would be disagreeing with me. But I think they do strengthen our movement. And the strength, though, lies in working out the details, and what do they really mean? Are we truly agreeing to these things?

TFSR: Yeah, especially the holding to the principles. You can make any statement, but until all parties are on board with what it means and honestly engaging with them, it’s just a piece of paper.

B: Right. Especially as the whole thing gets changed and lost. As people lose memory of what they really meant and why they worked.

TFSR: Are there any projects that you’re excited to see blossoming in your scene? Have you seen St. Paul change over the years, while you’ve been organizing and agitating there?

B: I had been agitated.

I think that some of the things that I feel most hopeful about, there is a real willingness to engage in public action that just wasn’t there. If I go back to the 1980’s, even the 1990’s, I would tend to see the same faces at every single demonstration I went to. For instance, under President Clinton, we bombed a pharmaceutical factory in Sudan and a training camp in Afghanistan. This incident has been all glossed over in all the bombings we’ve done since. But I remember that the group of people organized with Afghani-Americans in the Twin Cities, and we did protests and demonstrations around the bombing in Afghanistan in the mid-1990’s. Then there was also Sarajevo and the bombings and the US involvement in the war in Bosnia. There’s actually a fairly large Serbian population in the Twin Cities. The Serbian-Americans came out against those bombing actions. Then there were the bombings in Vieques and the US naval practice carried out in Vieques. So Puerto Ricans came out in opposition to that, and yet there was a strain of people like myself and some of my other friends who came up to all of them. I began to think actually, it’s not bad that there is a certain core of us who care about bombs, whether they’re in Afghanistan, Sudan, or in Serbia, or Albania, or the Vieques. We care about bombs, and that it’s not entirely rooted in our self-interest. So I came to honor the fact that some people just will simply care about these issues, regardless of where they happen, or to whom they happen. At the same time, you get tired of seeing the same old people at every single one of these demonstrations. That’s not been my experience, since– Occupy was the first time that I noticed that I thought, “Hey, these are brand new faces, I haven’t seen these people before.” Since that time, I have seen more and more brand new faces, more and more people I haven’t ever seen before. I really love that, I love that there is an increasing sense of “I can’t just sit on the sidelines anymore, I have to do something.”

Because again, I feel like that’s a piece of anarchism. If we’re going to see an anarchist future, it really requires people to not sit on the sidelines. It requires a willingness to participate in public life. Sometimes I think that anarchism really demands a lot of that, and may be a little unrealistic in some ways about just how much participation in public life we can have. Nonetheless, I think that, for where we are today, or wherever we have come from, it’s really good to see so many people who are willing to say, “I want to participate in the formation of this society, I want to have a say in what’s going on, I want to try to think about how we can do things better, I’m willing to put some elbow grease and some time and some foot power into it.” It’s promising for an anarchist future that we have so many people who are feeling willing to speak up and to take part, I think that’s what an anarchist future is going to depend on. So that’s one of the things that I feel really excited about.

Currently, the project that I’m working with is Showing Up for Facial Justice (SURJ), it’s a national organization, but we have a very active chapter here in the Twin Cities. I’m working particularly on policing and on the possibility of spreading the ideas of the abolition of the police department, not just the prison system, but the police department itself, particularly to people of European descent, who may not have even considered the idea before and saying, “Well maybe it’s time for us to think about that, maybe it’s time to think about abolishing it completely, abolishing the police department?” And then having conversations about what then? And be willing to throw the ideas around, because we have to start someplace. Certainly, I’ve heard a lot of People Of Color saying “We have to abolish the police department.” They won’t be able to do that if white people get in the way. So to try to at least somewhat normalize the idea of abolishing the police among people of European descent, who have, unfortunately, the white privilege… At least introduce the idea, develop hopefully some sympathy for the idea of the project of abolition, and at least neutralize the opposition. So that’s the thing that I’m working on right now. With the background, the fundamental commitment to an anarchist future informing my politics and my actions, finding ways to develop both the culture of taking self-responsibility, self-management, of self-discipline, the culture that will be necessary to create an anarchist future and also the politics of not relying on authority and not declaring ourselves free of the need for military authority running our lives, or status to authority running our lives. This is what I can see to do at the moment.

TFSR: That’s lovely. Thank you, Betsy, so much. If only you could see if there was a video option on this side, I’m just nodding my head and with the microphone being down saying “Yes, yes.” Preach it.

Thank you so much for having this conversation. I’m happy to link to your organization trainingforchange.org in the show notes. Thanks so much for sharing all this info and these experiences and hope to get to meet you sometime.

B: Yeah, I hope so too. Thanks for reaching out and taking the time.

Support Janye Waller + Anarchist Thoughts on Tactics at Standing Rock

Support Janye Waller + Anarchist Thoughts on Tactics at Standing Rock

Download This Episode

This episodes features two portions: an interview with Noelle about Black revolutionary, Janye Waller, incarcerated in Oakland; then, an interview with Noah about anarchist tactics in the NoDAPL struggle at Standing Rock.

Janye Waller
In the first segment we talk to Noelle about the case of Janye Waller. Janye is a young Black revolutionary from Oakland, California, who was the only person convicted of property destruction after the 2014 demonstrations in the Bay following the non-acquittal of pigs the murders of Michael Brown & Freddie Gray. Noelle is a supporter of Janye Waller and believes that Janye’s conviction was a clear case of railroading and racial profiling against a community activist. Janye is now finishing up a 2 year sentence with one year off for good behavior. The interview was held in February of 2017, and Janye is set to be released in coming months, then he’s out on parole. You can find out more about his case and donate to his post-release fund at https://rally.org/supportjanye and updates can be found on his support fedbook page and to find out more about some projects Janye was involved with in Oakland, check out the site for El Qilombo

You can write to Janye in the near future by addressing letters to:

Janye Waller #ba2719
A Facility,
P.O. Box 2500,
Susanville, CA 96127-2500

Anarchist Observations of the Struggle at Standing Rock

In the second segment William speaks with Noah, who is a well established movement medic, anarchist, and participant in #NoDAPL at Standing Rock, about his experiences there and analyses of how this resistance was organized and how it developed. This interview was recorded days before media saw the images of the Sacred Stone Camp burning and having been disbanded, so many of the modes and tenses that we employ are not what we might given the current position of the camps. We talk about a wide ranging set of topics, from what worked in the camps to what the failings were, and how resistance to extraction industries could look moving forward.

Thanks to 1312 Press for transcription and zine layout (found on Instagram & also email):

For links on how to support the efforts at Standing Rock – which are ongoing and support is needed both for folk’s legal and medical expenses – check out:

Water Protector Legal Collective
Sacred Stone Camp
Medic and Healer Council

Announcements

ACAB2017 End of Submissions

Shortly there’ll be a posted end to a call for submissions for presenters, workshops and bands at the first annual Asheville Another Carolina Anarchist Bookfaire up on the website, but we announce it here. Submission deadline is April 1st, 2017. Spots are filling up fast. Check out the website for updates and we hope to see you there!

TROUBLE showing at Firestorm, March 24th @ 7pm

That about says it. First episode of TROUBLE, which was chatted about in our last episode as the new video series by subMedia will be showing at Firestorm Books & Coffee at 7pm on Friday the 24th of March!

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Episode Playlist

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Transcription

TFSR: So we’re here to talk about Standing Rock and I’m sure that folks have heard about it if they have been keeping at least half an eye on the news, but for those who haven’t, would you mind giving a brief overview of what the struggle is and what has been happening there?

NOAH: So the Dakota Access Pipeline is a large pipeline that would carry heavy crude oil to refineries in Illinois before getting sent out of the country for foreign consumption. The pipeline is routed to pass just upstream from the Standing Rock Reservation’s water intake, which is part of their concern, as well as the pipeline route
as gone through a number of sacred sites causing the desecration of burial sites and other old religious sites. Back in August (2016) when construction got close to the Missouri River crossing by the Standing Rock reservation, the Sacred Stone Camp, which had been in existence since April, had made a bigger call for support in which many folks responded and that’s when the first arrests took place, lead largely by women and youth from Standing Rock and other Indigenous women and youth. Here you saw some very strong images of women running out onto the Cannon Ball Ranch to block construction equipment which was some of the first real civil disobedience, as well as the Horse Nations coming to just be presented to the law enforcement that was there, but the law enforcement ended up being scared by the presentation of the Horse Nations and so they kinda backed off and fled. That was some very strong imaging right off the bat there.

I arrived not long after that and helped provide medical support for some of the non-violent civil disobedience and just in camp at large, based out of the Red Warrior Camp. Red Warrior Camp was one of the few organizations that really took a strong lead in actual civil disobedience that stopped pipeline construction and were it not for the Red Warrior Camp, Indigenous People’s Power Project, some of the crews, some of the other bands of the Lakota Nations
really stepping up and taking that direct action to the pipeline construction, that pipeline would be said and done by now. And we certainly wouldn’t have cost Dakota Access the millions upon 2millions of dollars we’ve cost them in lost time, delayed contracts and stock price as well as the divestments from the banks which with Seattle and some Native reservations have totaled well over $3 billion worth of money withdrawn from Wells Fargo and punitive response from people. So the divestment is going to leave a lasting mark on these banks’ psyches and their shareholders’ psyches when they think about funding more of these projects.

TFSR: Absolutely, and it seems like along with the actions that have been taken at the various camps, the relationships between the various camps has been also very important to have outreach via social media and awareness being spread in a grassroots way, because mainstream media was very slow seemingly to pick up on
struggles going on at Standing Rock. Do you have anything to say about media blackouts there or anything like that? What has the process been for getting word out?

N: Well certainly it’s been led by some grassroots media projects that have been around since the start of the Sacred Stone Camp. Folks with Unicorn Riot have been there throughout the course of much of this which certainly is where I first started getting my media from
as they did intermittent updates on the Sacred Stone Camp from it’s start and through several stages of it well before Standing Rock or NoDAPL became a more common phrase. I think it was also very important for the largest camp at the Oceti Sakowin camp, the Seven Fire Council Camp, which was kind of just an overflow camp.

TFSR: Was that the youth camp?

N: The International Youth Council had a tipi in that camp for a while, but they were also holding space at Sacred Stone Camp and the Rose Bud Camp. The camps can be confusing when you’re there, and have been confusing. I’m sure it’s particularly hard to keep track of when you’re watching from afar. Sacred Stone Camp is Ladonna Bravebull Allard and her family’s land, which was started
by Ladonna and some other matriarchs from the area and the youth runners back in the start of April. And it was the Dakota Youth Runners who started getting a lot of attention from the long-distance runs they did.

It also needs to be pressed that there have been folks in that region who have been organizing in anticipation of the Keystone XL pipeline coming through Lakota territory that allowed for some of the groups within this larger mass to come together quickly and in an organized manner and show greater levels of discipline and training because we had been training together. We were under the leadership
of Lakota matriarchs and other Lakota elders who understood from the get-go that as these pipelines were coming through, we needed to be able to have a common language around how we fight and how we resist with non-violent civil disobedience. And so folks are familiar, folks understand that there are different roles. If your role is
media for the day, or medic, or police liason, that’s your role for that day and you need to stick to it and if that’s not your role, then you need to not try and make that your role.

So that’s why when the camp was significantly smaller than when it was 12,000 people between the camps, when there were only a few hundred folks in camp there was more effective direct action to stop the pipeline than when there were all these folks who came to stand with Standing Rock but there were no plans to use that mass of people effectively or an unwillingness to utilize any of those plans on the parts of some.

TFSR: Is that just because the camp got so unruly with the size, or do you feel that people were kind of not respecting any directives that were being told to them?

N: No, as I’ve seen it put on the internet, that there was a problem with “peace-chiefs” trying to lead during a war situation. And so there were folks who, in the language I would use, didn’t respect others’ diversity of tactics. And so there were folks who would interfere with Warriors and Water Protectors on the frontline and cause division and even go so far as to utilize spiritual abuse and manipulation to interrupt actions that were happening, or not allow actions to happen or prevent them from happening in very vague ways, like getting outside folks to try and scream at people that “Elders said no!” And what they meant was Dave Archambault and the tribal council might not be happy with what’s going on. But there are a number of different elders in the camp because there
are many different tribes and nations in the camp, but not everyone listens to the same elders. Folks are taught to listen to their elders. The Lakota are not a monolithic group, they disagree with each other. Sometimes the grandmas and aunties would be there telling folks to hold the line while others would be telling them to go back to
camp and pray. To some extent because the camp grew so fast and there wasn’t space made for an all-nations council of any sort, these rifts and problems became rather challenging at times because there was so much to do just in camp life and preparing for the change of the seasons and to try and train and utilize huge numbers of people who were rolling over every few days as well as deal with mountains of supplies coming in.

It all became very challenging, and then you have a real separation of leadership of folks who are contracted by the tribe to help, or were from larger non-profits who largely operated out of the casino rather than the camp. So you have that disconnect of folks who weren’t involved in the camps but were considered leadership for one reason or another, which made things very challenging all in all. When the information about what’s happening in camp gets through games of telephone, you end up with a lot of rumor and heresy added in, or misinformation, and that can be seen by how often facebook says the camp is being raided when we’re not.

TFSR: As an anarchist, I feel almost single-mindedly fixated on this idea of what you were talking about in regards to a non-respect of a diversity of tactics and trying to parse out where a rhetoric of non- violence is coming from. We talk a lot about how liberals have sort of co-opted the idea of non-violence to weaponize it against radical struggle basically, or to weaponize it as a way to take the wind out of sails of radical struggle. I would imagine that this rhetoric of non-violence is a bit different given the layers of colonization and disenfranchisement that people are experiencing. Do you have any words about that?

N: There’s certainly a real challenge for anyone who’s not Lakota or Native to understand the nuance and the history between the Indian Re-Organization Act, Tribal Councils versus the Traditional Treaty Councils. It’s important especially for outsiders to err on the side of listening to the folks who are directly hosting them in these situations and not be overtly disrespectful to local communities. Now that doesn’t mean that local communities are unified in their response, and that’s not really our place as outsiders to really dive right into the middle of it and stir it up. I have been working with some folks who were out there for several years so those were the folks I took my lead from because they are traditional Lakota and Dakota Matriarchs. So with that, there was a division of folks who believed in the courts and believed in that being the primary route and would at times spread disinformation about how the action of folks locking down to equipment or shutting down work sites was going to negatively impact these civil court proceedings. If anything they gave these civil court proceedings the time they needed to get denied, but there hasn’t been a win from the courts in this battle that I’m aware of. So if we were relying solely on those means, the pipeline would have been built by now.

The spark of inspiration that that has come out of Standing Rock would not have been if it weren’t for folks who understand that prayers have to be met half-way. We can’t just pray and expect things to stop, and similarly we have to understand robust histories. You hear this ongoing colonized myth that First Nations Peoples were completely passive or pacifistic when that’s simply not true. It’s well known that many Nations and many people were almost
always armed and prepared to defend their homelands and their territory and their way of life from settler-colonial populations. Part of this myth comes from those boarding schools; it comes from this western narrative that says “It was the white folks that freed the slaves!” and “It was the white folks who were benevolent enough to give these Natives the reservations!” rather than things like, the
6Lakota slaughtered a whole division of the cavalry at the battle of Greasy Grass and killed Custer and took that flag, and that was part of writing the treaty. Red Cloud’s wars and the Big Powder Bluff were the reasons for those treaties, the Northern Cheyenne; the Lakota/Dakota/Nakota’s fierce resistance to the U.S. incursions
and these settler/colonial incursions are what created these treaties. It’s also what provoked the U.S. into using genocidal tactics such as slaughtering all the buffalo and stripping Natives from their culture to send them to boarding school, so they could re-write those narratives
and send those kids back to those cultures with this wrong narrative.

And so with that you have this Christian idea of forgiveness that is pressed, or of understanding, and I personally hope that those cops and law enforcement come to some dawning of understanding that their ways are bad. But until that happens I have no sympathy for them or no forgiveness for their behaviors until they seek it. And so it’s something that personally baffles me, especially coming from a medic’s perspective and seeing the grievous injuries that we’ve seen out there. That folks want to negotiate with these people or work with them to get into that system. It’s one of those things, some folks who don’t want the (Water) Protectors to continue resisting are legitimately scared that those cops are going to kill one of us. And that’s a very real possibility but it also disrespects a lot of those folks’ agency, who understand that they may die in this struggle. And that if the state is going to go through such measures and allow their law enforcement to utilize these munitions, these so-called less-than-lethal munitions in reckless ways, then yeah they may end up killing someone but you know if they kill a Water Protector whose got their hands up and are in prayer, isn’t that that non-violent Ghandian King-esque nonviolence that they’re talking about? Let them harm us to the point that the moral imperative becomes so overwhelmingly against them that they have to give up? That they don’t have the will to beat you any longer?

TFSR: Also in a time when we have this new president now who is actively seeking to criminalize so-called peaceful protesters? Seeking any kind of legitimacy from the state doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense, but what also makes a lot of sense is taking leadership from people who are most effected and also keeping in mind that that’s a non-homogenous group of people. It’s a very complicated situation, it seems like it’s very difficult to know where to draw the line while also maintaining your own political integrity in all of this as well, to be a whole human being. You mention that you are a movement medic, and you have spoken about your experiences at Standing Rock, but I was wondering if there was anything that you wanted to add about your involvement at the camp?

N: My involvement at the camp has largely been as a medic in support of the Water Protectors, so I’ve both worked to help increase the medic capacity and continue to work to try and help us stay coordinated and functioning in a way that allows us to provide the best level of care that we can. I have also gone out on a number of the direct actions to support Water Protectors and have dealt with some injuries and elements and the volumes, which were pretty staggering at times. November 20th when they just kept using water cannons on folks, both speaks to the heart and willingness of the water protectors but from the medic’s perspective we saw over 300 patients that night.

Several folks were severely injured; Sophia Wilansky nearly lost her arm that night, and other folks have lost permanent vision from that night, and the level of PTSD that has been inflicted on folks in these situations or the potential for it.

Similarly when the Sacred Ground Camp on the Easement was raided on October 27th, they literally just lined up and whooped on folks all day. We’re seeing the Miami Model play out in rural settings. Sheriff Laney from Cass County and Sheriff Meyer from Morton County I’m sure will retire real soon and go on the law enforcement and security speaking tour, to pop up at every pipeline and give advice
on how to deal with these “damn eco-terrorist protestor types.”

TFSR: And there has been a whole lot of law enforcement there from day one it seems, right?

N: Not from day one, I mean Morton County I think employs 33 or 39 sheriffs total. (*laughter*) And the North Dakota State Police and Highway Patrol could only muster so many folks, but now law enforcement from nine other states, federal agencies like the ATF and Border Patrol have been deployed out there. There is I believe just more than 500 North Dakota National Guardsmen who are activated presently. There is now quite the policing apparatus as was on display when the Last Child Camp was raided and shut down. They had over six armored vehicles out that day.

TFSR: It feels important to analyze police responses to struggles like this in order to get a psychological hold on to what the hell is going on, and we’ve been seeing a lot of media recently about the struggle, and many different approaches from total erasure to pretty heartfelt support. I’m wondering what your opinions are about how you see
this struggle informing future struggles and how you see this one particularly continuing, or if it’s too early to say?

N: I think at the very least what has happened out there in the treaty territories has brought a new level of what it looks like to be brave in the face of the state for folks. And it’s behaviors it can be pointed to as strong definitive attempts at non-violent action that we’ve already seen. At the Piñon Pipeline, there was one action out there and they cancelled it. At the Trans-Pecos Pipeline, there have been a couple of actions already and they’ve shut down work. Mississippi Stand went after other sections of the Dakota Access Pipeline down in Iowa, we’re seeing folks starting to really resist the Sabal Pipeline, Spectra Pipeline, Lancaster PA is starting to openly build camps and openly express how we aren’t paid outside agitators, here’s the local teacher. These are local folks who are stepping up and saying “Oh heck no, can we do this here?” I think it’s important as we do this that we need to understand that there is a space for specifically prayerful things, and there is a space specifically for the prayer war, and there is a space for the more confrontational direct action tactics, but these are not the same space.

And I think it needs to be stressed that the Water Protectors and Warriors never went back to the camp and were like “Ya’ll are praying wrong! Ya’ll need to go pray over there! Ya’ll need to pray like this!” That is what some of the folks who use spirituality like Christians do, they use it as a manipulation tactic. They use spirituality much like
Christians say “You have to pray like we pray here.” Even to otherLakota, who were taught differently. That caused some real tensions, and there’s some real beef that I can’t claim to fully understand that I know. There’s family members who don’t like each other over that stuff, because folks called and asked for Warriors to come and those same folks, when they saw what Warriors did and what Water Protectors do to actually stop pipelines, they got scared. Either pressure got put on them through back-channels, or they realized that they would not be able to
control the narrative. So they pass a number of rules or any number of authorities on folks to say “You can’t do that this way!” Which certainly rubbed a number of folks the wrong way, when no one could really say where these decisions were coming from.

TFSR: Before I ask the next question I want to be really explicit about what you mean by prayer. This is non-Christian explicitly?

N: Yeah, this is explicitly Lakota spirituality, whose homelands we were on, Lakota treaty territory, Lakota and Dakota lands, and there were some basic modicums that were asked of folks to respect, things like don’t take pictures of the sacred fires, or put stuff in the sacred fires unless you’ve gotten permission. If you have a uterus and you’re on your moon, then to stay away from ceremony, stay out of the kitchen, just some cultural norms there. Up at big camp, there were folks from many nations operating in many different ways. There was some kind of manipulation of that that happened that was used as a point of leverage to dishearten and disrupt some of the youth and some of the frontline folks. Part of that is intergenerational difference, part of that is that older folks were raised in a time when native youth were being snatched and taken to boarding camps. A certain amount of hiding was the safest way to do things, which some of the folks with the International Youth Council and some of the other youth that have been leading this understand. They love and respect their elders but they also recognize that it is a different day and that these adults who are coming in to leadership roles who have listened to their elders and gone and gotten those educations and have been getting told for years that they need to step up and lead. When this happened in camp, there were folks that came up and criticized them. There were other elders that wouldn’t chastise folks in public, would openly support folks for not trying to take a lead role but were there as an elder to both support and be a resource.

There was a lot of issues around white folks telling Lakotas to stay in a prayerful way. There are Warriors that I know who are Pipe-Carriers, they don’t carry their pipes to the frontline, they are very spiritual and prayerful people, and for people to accuse them of not being in a prayerful way while they’re going to risk their freedom and personal wellbeing for the future generations, for the water, for the air, for the commons like that, for all of us, to challenge those folks’ spiritual intentions and spiritual actions, especially if you don’t even understand their spiritual practice, is both disrespectful and the added attitude of an agent-moderator. That’s some stuff that could be portrayed by folks intentionally trying to upset affective action.

TFSR: Do you feel like this is an analysis that is spreading? I have seen a little bit of analysis of what you’re talking about right now being disseminated over news channels and social media and whatnot, but do you see this spread of, for the lack of a better word on my part, this discussion of a diversity of tactics being disseminated to other anti-extraction struggles?

N: You know it’s hard to say, I’ve largely stayed put in North Dakota for the past several months. But a lot of folks from different struggles came through and I can’t speak for them because they saw what they saw with their own eyes, depending on when and where they were in those camps they could have seen drastically different things and been told drastically different stories as to what was happening at that moment, what had happened up until that moment and where things were going to go. But I do think folks are waking up and I think the intersectionality of struggles that is becoming more present is what will allow this discussion of diversity of tactics to really come more to the forefront. I don’t think it needs to be a discussion, I think it just needs to be a respect that happens. And with different groups that aren’t in a position to lose privilege from where they’re at, have that freedom of nothing left to lose, whereas privileged folks, largely a lot of white folks, but settler-colonialist folks who have more access to stuff, pull their punches. They have a real tendency to pull their punches in these situations, or paid-organizers pull their punches because finishing off a campaign definitively leaves them without work or without the control of an organization that they had. Whereas, folks whose hearts are true, who really are committed to that land, that water and that future, and getting everyone free as soon as we can now, they’re gonna be more willing to not view a broken window or some damaged bulldozers as violence when they see people starving, people going hungry, people being incarcerated, unarmed protestors, etc. We have people who are facing decades (in prison time) for a lockdown. We have this aggressive set of policing tactics that are being deployed against us that, like it or not, folks
need to create that big crowd for some more direct action to happen out of so that it can be done safely and non-violently, or the options that will be left will be groups that don’t come out in public and only see violence as an option and not getting caught, if non-violently praying and getting arrested can get someone 10-20 years (in prison). It’s going to push folks in that hardcore direction, and it’s more a question of if we can do the outreach and the education that the bulk of the dissidents of society come with us, rather than cling to law and order as the main goal of society rather than evolution or something like that.

TFSR: You mentioned the intersectionality of struggle a little while ago, and one of the last questions that I have is that is struggle an inappropriate word? Just to go off script for a moment…

N: It definitely is a struggle. We’re all tired and hurt and sore. It’s a damn struggle, convincing folks to support, folks having to win that support through footage of them standing in prayer getting the crap beat out of them by multi-state law enforcement, that’s a struggle, that’s a fight.

TFSR: For real! Then this struggle has generated a lot of momentum it seems, at least within anarchism, around anti-extraction industries and there was a lot of momentum prior to this, but this feels somewhat different. Also one thing that I find really exciting is that it has generated a lot of discussion about meshing these two discussions of anti-extraction struggle with an explicit anti-colonialist discussion as well. Would you talk about whether you see this as being something new, and a bit about the importance of intertwining these two analyses?

N: I think the intersectionality starts becoming to be real obvious when you look at things like the current immigration raids versus the fact that Flint still isn’t a priority of our federal government, to get them clean drinking water. The fact that the state of North
Dakota has spent $23 million and counting on policing costs to get a pipeline put in that’s not going to create much revenue or jobs or anything for that state. There’s a need to kind of recognize the continual looting of this land by financial interests of various sorts, that is the base injustice. Folks who want to tweak or modify the system, I feel are failing to appreciate the toxicity of what this American system was built on, that it is built on stolen land, that it is built with stolen hands, and much of this profit. I’ve done a lot of work in labor and class stuff, and there’s a temptation to say “Oh this is a class thing” and “the value of our labor is being taken from us” but even the labor that we’re taking on is being stolen from the land
of folks who were the first inhabitants here. None of that is possible, a lot of the anarchist and revolutionaries will fight for everyone and forget the Native people, and so I think that it is crucial that how we start thinking about these struggles brings into the anti-colonial decolonizing mindset and the support and leadership of folks who are still strong in their indigeneity, to avoid tokenizing folks because “Hey you’re Native, we’re gonna put you in charge” even if someone was raised Christian and they don’t know much about where they come from. The importance of that indigeneity, those are the folks that have that understanding of living with the land and living as part of an eco-system, and they have that appreciation of the land and the creatures that all vie for us.

And so when we talk about the pollution and damage done by these extreme industries, we need to look at that damage done and that cultural genocide that’s been done against folks who just want, like many Indigenous cultures around the world who lived as part of the land they were on, and were thankful for that land, for providing for them, as opposed to the Christian concept of dominion over the
land, which is an interesting interpretation of being good stewards. I think that the need for those intersections, the need for Black Lives Matter and how powerful it was to have folks like Chairman Fred Hampton Jr come out with folks and all the 300+ Nations that came out and showed their solidarity and numerous white folks from different organizations that came and showed solidarity, saw in a lot of ways how that camp was operating in a good humble way, and there was no need for money for most things. If you’re doing work, there’s kitchens that will feed you, and a lot of folks took that shit like it was Burning Man and just came and took and were culture-vultures on the whole thing and were fetishizing Natives in resistance and were just working on their photo or art project or wanting to come up and tell the tale. Are you Native? You probably shouldn’t be telling that tale, you should help and empower these Native youth who are trying to tell their tales right now.

And I think that’s some of the importance of intersectionality is these recognitions that there are going to be folks who just know how to do it better because they were raised that way. It’s like the damn tipis that didn’t budge in the windstorms, and everyone’s tents that gotten flattened out. There’s some stuff that local folks will just know, and when we’re talking about these rural places and when we’re talking about taking Indigenous leadership or local leadership in place, is we have to recognize that just because you may be educated, or a permaculture demi-god to folks out there, that doesn’t actually translate to that bio-region, and if that doesn’t translate to pragmatic things that folks can do, if you’re just gonna come and say you should do it all in this way, it’s that same problem. It’s not looking at the intersections, it’s presenting “this is the way it should be done. This is the model we have, this is how we’ve been doing. We fail most of the time, but this is the model of how we do this.”

TFSR: That also calls into question really challenging people to actually fully examine why they’re doing something. Are you going to Standing Rock because you want to work on your photo project? Are you going to be updating your instagram about it? or are you going to actually have as real solidarity with people and struggle as
you can have?

N: And there’s the question there about a lot of conditional allies out there. I’ve seen their facebook comments about how getting beat up or saying mean things to law enforcement doesn’t keep with our message and loses support for us. And I challenge anyone that if your support is so easily lost, did you ever really give it in an earnest and heartfelt way? There are some grandmas out there who just about make me cry with the support they show their youth, and how proud they are of these young folks. I’ve seen these young folks get to the top of the hill, where there’s footage of folks getting brutalized at the bottom, they’ll touch a cop, not in a harmful way, just touch ‘em.

Showing their bravery, demystifying and showing that they could do more but not having to. Seeing these different ways of doing things, seeing these powerful moments of praise that folks get, knowing that these young folks are earning real prestige in their culture by doing these things while others are both trying to shame them while other grandmas are holding them up. It’s a lot.

TFSR: That’s incredible, and for me such an amazing concept and very inspiring thing to hear about. Those are all the questions that I had, do you have anything else that you wanna add?

N: Just that there isn’t a region in this country that’s free from pipeline expansions right now. Get trained, get rowdy, let’s kill this stuff. Let’s kill some black snakes.

An Anarchist Legal Worker on Grand Jury Resistance at Standing Rock, and Scott Campbell on the upcoming Insumisión/IGD tour of Mexico

Grand Juries & Scott Campbell

Grand Jury Resistance at Standing Rock

http://waterprotectorlegal.org/
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This week we are airing two short interviews, the first is with an anarchist legal worker who has been participating in resistance at Standing Rock in so called North Dakota. This interview is specifically about the grand jury summons which was recently served to someone who was struggling at Standing Rock, we speak about what a grand jury is and how people might resist them, also a bit about what it means for this movement to have a grand jury subpoena occur at this moment.

If you have been contacted by federal agents in relation to Standing Rock, please call the Water Protector Legal Collective IMMEDIATELY at area code (605) 519-8180. To donate to this collective and to learn more about the work they do, you can visit their website at http://waterprotectorlegal.org/. To look again at our guest’s suggestions for further research, you can visit the noblogs site or on http://www.ashevillefm.org/, or go to the IGD article “Grand Jury Resistance at Standing Rock.”

Our guest’s suggestions for further research:

Civil Liberties Defense Center here
CrimethInc.’s don’t talk pdf and support the NW grand jury resisters.
Midnight Special Law Collective’s Grand Jury Training pdf
Freedom Archives’s resource here

Scott Campbell on upcoming tour of Mexico with It’s Going Down

The next interview we will present is a conversation with Scott Campbell who writes the Insumisión column for itsgoingdown.org. Insumisión is a semi regular publication which aims to highlight anarchistic and anarchist struggles and news all around Mexico. Scott and members of IGD are in the process of launching an information gathering and affinity building tour around Mexico in early next year. In this interview we talk about Insumisión and what inspired it, as well as some of the strategies and influences both North American and Mexican struggle can take from one another, among other topics. To read Insumisión and for a write up about the upcoming tour, you can visit https://itsgoingdown.org/insumision/. To donate to the tour and to see a write up about it, you can visit the rally dot org website https://rally.org/igd-mexico

You can also check out El Enemigo Común (or The Common Enemy) at https://elenemigocomun.net/

From their website:

“[This project] is an international watchdog against state sponsored repression. It is the project of a small collective of volunteers in the U.S. and Mexico. We publish and translate communiqués, articles, and other media by, about, and for social movements. Our primary focus is on indigenous peoples, women, and youth, in both urban and rural communities in Oaxaca, but we also publish about other struggles against neoliberalism throughout Mexico”.

Thanks!!

A quick shoutout of thanks to KFED for the lovely new image for the series podcast. Much appreciated!

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Continue reading An Anarchist Legal Worker on Grand Jury Resistance at Standing Rock, and Scott Campbell on the upcoming Insumisión/IGD tour of Mexico

A conversation with Keep Hoods Yours and on the July 25th International Day of Solidarity with Antifascist Prisoners

KHY and Intl Antifascist Prisoners Solidarity

nycantifa.wordpress.com
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The first segment is a short conversation with members of NYC Antifa, an antifascist group in New York City. In this conversation we talk a bit about the history of this day of solidarity plus the state of fascism in the US and abroad. This conversation was transcribed and re-recorded to protect the folks’ identities. To learn more about this, you can visit https://nycantifa.wordpress.com/, and to donate to the international defense fund you can visit https://intlantifadefence.wordpress.com/about-2/

A large portion of this episode is a conversation with a member of Keep Hoods Yours. Keep Hoods Yours, or KHY, is a radical graffiti crew based in the SF Bay Area that organizes against gentrification, against sexual predators in the scene, against racism and more. During the conversation, we’ll hear about the rebel cultural car events called Sideshows, the police killing of Richard
Perkins during one of these Sideshows, KHY participation in uprisings against the Ferguson verdict, resistance to Fast Agent and poning of Kenny Truong and the shutdown of racist, gentrifying business “Locals Corner” in the Mission District. You can find KHY on Instagram or in the
streets. This interview was formatted into a zine by 1312 Distro and is available for printing thanks to IGD.

Announcements

Luke O’Donovan Solidarity

On July 25th at 9 am Luke O’Donovan will walk out of Washington State Prison after serving two years there. We are thrilled to see our friend free from behind prison walls. He is in high spirits and very excited to be released. As many of you who have been in touch with him know, he has occupied his time with a rigorous workout routine, lots of reading, and correspondence with all those who took the time to communicate with him.

Unfortunately he will not be allowed to return to his home and life in Atlanta. Due to the judge adding a banishment condition to his probation, Luke will have to move all the way to the West Coast for the next eight years, or until the conditions of his probation are changed. Moving forward, here are some ways to continue to support Luke as he starts life on strict probation.

Money– Luke will need money in order to cover his living expenses while he gets on his feet and moves his belongings and life to the West Coast. He will also need money to cover the probation and drug testing fees that he will be subject too. You can donate or set up recurring donations by visiting their paypal site.

Care Packages– Luke will need lots of little things, like clothes to rebuild his wardrobe, delicious vegan food, and other items that you are not allowed to have in prison. If you would like to send a care package please email letlukego@gmail.com to work out details on where and what to send.

Solidarity and Support- Throughout Luke’s case and subsequent imprisonment the support and solidarity he has gotten has been overwhelming. From the solidarity marches and actions to the mountain of mail and the hundreds of postcards sent to the judge we have been thrilled by all those who have taken action for him. Once things are more clear we will begin trying to get his banishment condition appealed, check back for updates. For now any and all actions are appreciated. As Luke’s new living situation isn’t worked out yet we can’t provide contact info at this time, but email us at letlukego@gmail.com if you want to get in touch.

Luke is set to be free from prison, but there is still a lot to do. Thanks everyone for your past and future support.

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Playlist

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Transcription

What follows is the transcript from an interview with Keep Hoods Yours (KHY) that appeared on The Final Straw Radio (TFSR). KHY is an anti-authoritarian, anti-gentrification, anti-sexist, anti-racist and so forth, graffiti crew based in the San Francisco Bay Area. This interview talks about organizing in youth culture, radical potentials in graffiti, some of the struggles that KHY has been involved in and more. The Final Straw is a radical radio program out of Asheville, N.C. and their episodes can be found here: https://thefinalstrawradio.noblogs.org/. This interview was transcribed in an effort to broaden conversations around radical organizing and antagonism within vibrant subcultures that anarchists and other radicals find themselves involved in. Ultimately, it also serves as a proposal and a challenge to punks, graffiti writers, skateboarders, dancers, musicians and artists of many forms to never pass up on an opportunity to strategically target our enemies and fire at will, and to explore the creative cultures we find ourselves enmeshed with for spaces to attack from. Or, in the words of the KHY interviewee, to “develop an antagonistic, decentralized, popular culture of resistance that can hopefully develop our capacity to identify and attack the various forces which exploit poor and working class spaces, including gentrifi cation, police violence, rape culture and local white supremacist and fascist efforts.”

TFSR: Well first off let’s talk about, what is a graffiti crew? For those people listening who may know nothing about graffiti culture, what is it and how does it operate?

KHY: Well they vary from crew to crew, but for the most part a graffiti crew is a semi-formal grouping of graffiti writers that have similar styles, aesthetic choices and a philosophy towards the craft. They group up and collaborate in order to do graffiti, to exchange styles, knowledge, strategies, and supplies and generally have each other’s backs. Since it’s a culture that’s rooted in the streets, anything can happen. And it being illegal, we can’t really rely on mainstream institutions to solve conflicts. But it varies. For some crews, they’re just drinking buddies. For others, they are very serious, formal, tight-knit and organized. It definitely varies.

TFSR: I guess the first thing people would think of when they think graffiti-crew; they think it’s automatically connected with a gang.

KHY: It’s actually not, it’s often the other way around actually. Especially in working-class neighborhoods, some youth do graffiti instead of falling in the gang trap. In some cities, gangs and graffiti crews get along or just don’t beef, while in other cities it’s much different. In some crews there’s overlap in gang affiliations and graffiti crews. But for the most part they’re two very separate worlds that sometimes conflict.

TFSR: So sense of place seems pretty central to the idea of KHY. Could you tell some of our listeners about, generally speaking, the upbringing of many of the people involved? What do you think drew them to become involved in KHY? And, what kind of drives people to be engaged in this activity that could potentially be legally dangerous for them?

KHY: All of the people involved in this project at this time were born and raised in the Bay Area. Part of what’s driven folks to become involved in KHY is just been seeing the blatant gentrification, police violence and other problems in our neighborhoods. And also seeing how liberal non-profit efforts at changing things fail completely. These efforts usually end up alienating folks in the hoods that are probably attracted to things like KHY, because they see it as a way to engage with the oppressive things happening in their neighborhoods without committing themselves to reformist or legal means. It’s potentially dangerous, but the reality for folks is that the problems they’re dealing with are already dangerous. They face a larger danger from losing people in their community to police violence, to gentrification, to having families split apart, to the erasure of their culture and the loss of dignity that comes with it, that kind of thing. So really, the risk of catching a misdemeanor case for writing on a wall, it doesn’t feel all that dangerous compared to our daily reality.

TFSR: And let’s talk specifically now about KHY and how, when did it form, and overall what are it’s goals? And also, as both a radical project and a graffiti crew, how did it evolve over time since it first started?

KHY: KHY formed at about 2008-2009 with just a couple of us, and it’s grown over time. It’s grown at a much faster rate in the last three years or so. It’s really just a graffiti crew that’s rooted in radical ideas, including anti-capitalist, anti-authoritarian and anti-colonial thought. KHY aims to highlight the anti-property values of graffiti culture by exploring how targeted graffiti application could be used as a form of direct action. Also using culture, like active youth culture and radical organizing, to help develop an antagonistic, decentralized, popular culture of resistance that can hopefully develop our capacity to identify and attack the various forces which exploit poor and working class spaces, including gentrification, police violence, rape culture and local white supremacist and fascist efforts.

TFSR: Great, thanks for sharing that. And let’s talk about what kind of campaigns you all have been involved in. To me, the first thing that pops up in my mind is Local’s Corner, which obviously wasn’t something that was started by you guys but is something you were involved in. If you could talk about that, and just what happened (Local’s Corner is closed now, it was a restaurant in the Mission District). Also, you’re involved in a campaign around Fast Agent, so if you could just talk to us about what both of those were, and why you chose those as targets.

KHY: The Local’s Corner campaign, it was a very obvious example of the blatant colonial white supremacist mentality behind some of the gentrifiers in the mission district. For folks who don’t really know the story behind it, it involves the owner refusing to seat people of color. There’s one specific incident where they denied a Latina mother and her kids a table, claiming that there weren’t enough seats, and then sat down a group of customers of the same size right after. There’s another incident where some local students carried out a test, where they had a group of white students come in, and they were given seating, and then they had a group of students of color come in, and they weren’t given seating. There was already a lot of local anger at that business, but the mainstream liberal attempts to hold them accountable were failing. Folks had a petition floating around, they had some protests, but none of that really put enough pressure alone on Local’s Corner to really do anything. KHY targeting Local’s Corner was the tipping point for their business. The bad publicity along with the mainstream legal pressure, then on top of that the repeated vandalism, which became popularized as other folks not involved with KHY in any way began replicating the strategy themselves, it was just the final straw. And they closed, they called it. We did that to show that direct action can be accessible to folks who don’t feel as familiar with it, ya know? It doesn’t necessarily need to involve a high-risk action, like burning something down. It can be creative, accessible, less of a risk than folks assume. And it can be effective, it can shut things down. You can make a gentrifying business get the fuck out of your town.

TFSR: I would assume for younger people that would be like a big tipping point, like “Oh we actually shut this thing down.”

KHY: Yeah, and I think that a lot of people saw that, even some of the liberal people gave us credit, they said that KHY had a lot to do with it, that they wouldn’t have closed without our efforts. And I think that legitimized direct action and more militant, illegal tactics n the eyes of the community, because it was effective. It was a small victory, but people were glad to see them leave. It also engaged a lot of folks who had never been involved in direct action before. Once other graffiti writers began vandalizing it, writing messages, their names, just scribbling over it, whatever, they became engaged in that process. They were able to build their confidence in attacking what essentially attacks them.

TFSR: Yeah, and I also think that’s interesting with the Fast Agent thing, which basically are a bunch of ads that are on bus stop benches, I see it as you are targeting things that are in the social landscape, like “Hey, get this!”

KHY: Definitely. It’s essentially what graffiti’s always been about. It’s been a battle for the public visual landscape. There’s something inherently very antagonistic, anti-property, and anti-capitalist about graffiti. So Fast Agent is an advertising campaign for the real estate agent who has the highest record for flipping properties in the neighborhoods being targeted by gentrification, the number one real estate agent in the East Bay. His name is Kenny Trong, and he, like Local’s Corner, already faced a lot of resentment from the locals. He wasn’t very strategic about it either. He did a lot of talking shit to people online and instigating and being condescending to folks. And part of that entitlement was blasting West Oakland and parts of East Oakland with these Fast Agent ads to take up space and show his presence, to assert his economic power.

So we started targeting him, and encouraging other folks to do so. At this point it’s been our campaign that’s had the widest participation than any other. I mean there’s been hundreds of other people from all walks of life who’ve tagged on them, vandalized them, ripped them out, far more than we ever did. It’s normalized, decentralized, has a life of it’s own, has little to do with us. And again, it goes to show that you don’t necessarily have to be a part of a group or organization. You don’t have to go through legal means or follow the law. You don’t have to ask for anything, you can just take resistance into your own hands, at your own pace, even if you’re isolated and even if you don’t want to be a part of anything formal. And at this point it’s been going on for over a year.

TFSR: Let’s talk a little bit about; if people are going to look at KHY stuff, primarily they do that through instagram. So how do you find, through engaging in social media, have you been able to build relationships with other projects through this? And also, what is it like using social media as a means to show people what the crew has been doing, but at the same time obviously the police use that as a means for surveillance?

KHY: So far, social media has been a means to highlight some of our ideas of resistance to folks who aren’t already involved in radical circles. Folks that are already radicalized, that are already involved in radical movements, don’t need social media to get informed. So the social media thing was really meant as a way to engage folks in the hood who were on social media anyways. So far, it has helped build some solidarity. We’ve reached out to folks in other cities across the west coast, the U.S., even in other countries. Just as far as exchanging some inspiration, news, strategy, ideas, just making those connections between similar struggles in different cities. There’s been a lot of sharing too, folks will send us photos of them doing politicized graffiti in their cities, things that are going on in other places. We’ve had folks use politically targeted graffiti in application and send us reports about it, stuff like that. Now that we’ve got a strong social media presence, we focus more on highlighting other struggles that might be isolated. It’s also helped to build some relationships that have materialized from real life, outside of social media. There’s definitely limitations to using a medium like social media that’s always surveilled. But, in reality, only very specific things are communicated through instagram. The photos that we post about Fast Agent for example, 90% of them come from folks that have absolutely nothing to do with KHY. At this point it’s more about documenting recent and ongoing struggles. At most, there’s just pictures of KHY graffiti, unfortunately social media became part of graffiti culture. There’s hella accounts documenting graffiti, and it’s just not as hot as other forms of direct action.

TFS: ‘Cause you hear all the time these horror stories of how someone goes and steals a bunch of paint, and then their next picture is of their job, and then police go to their job and arrest them.

KHY: Yeah but, in the Bay Area graffiti is just so widespread and so ingrained out here that it’s so easy to get away with it, that they’re not really prosecuting graffiti in the same way that they would in some small town. And if you’re not prepared to deal with the potential consequences, you shouldn’t even be doing it.

TFSR: Is that something you all think about too? ‘Cause it’s not just some instances, but it’s everywhere, it’s integrated into the landscape, like it’s murals, it’s advertisement, graffiti is part of not only working class communities but also capitalism itself. I guess, what does it mean to be a graffiti artist but also to make that radical connection?

KHY: Well most of the time, graffiti isn’t even that radical or political, but it is inherently, and that’s what we’re trying to highlight. We’re trying to highlight that this culture that a lot of youth from all walks of life participate in, is already inherently radical. It already has revolutionary potential, and folks that participate in this culture already have the tools necessary to carry out resistance. People do graffiti every day, and people do graffiti on everything, anything, all it takes is strategic placement, and if desired some messaging, and then it becomes a form of direct action.

TFSR: Well that kinda brings us to my next question, but has the politics of KHY affected other street organizations or graffiti crews that are in this general area? And has the stance that you all have taken pushed people that are in the graffiti scene in a more political direction? Or has it already just been going that way because of the gentrification and police violence in San Francisco and Bay Area?

KHY: As far as other street organizations and other crews, there’s been a lot of mutual respect. Our goals have kept us out of the usual and petty conflicts that exist in graffiti, and that’s given us a lot of room to focus on what we’re doing. We’re not engaged in the usual beef dynamics in graffiti politics, even though some of us might have been involved in before. We’re more interested in exploring potentials for unity, collaboration, and focusing on common enemies. And for the most part, other writers see this and respect it, or just leave it alone. We’re also not pushovers, and have our own histories out here that some people aren’t aware of. Graffiti was beginning to take a slightly more political direction in the Bay Area, but it was very minor. Graffiti is full of problematic people and oppressive behaviors, and so we’ve helped to push local graffiti in a more political direction as far as people becoming more involved, as far as people becoming strategic with what they do graffiti on, about what they paint, and also about bringing up dynamics in the culture, of how to carry themselves, solidarity, things like that. Calling out rape culture and misogyny, highlighting different issues that affect writers. There’s a drug addiction epidemic in graffiti that’s hard to talk about that has cost a lot of heavy hitters and good people. We’re definitely trying to radicalize graffiti writers, while using graffiti to radicalize folks that don’t do graffiti.

TFSR: When you are all engaged in that, do you feel like there’s some push-back? Because I would imagine that that kind of political stance almost seems like a cliché, to bring that stuff up in any sort of youth culture. I imagine people would just respond with “Oh I don’t care about that. For me it’s just about destroying shit and that’s what it is.”

KHY: The only push-back we’ve really felt is a few misogynistic individuals feel threatened by us highlighting a lot of predators in the Bay Area, calling out rape culture and being really explicit about that. It’s almost unheard of for a graffiti crew, for a project that mostly consists of males in a culture that’s male dominated, to explicitly call for fighting patriarchy and pushing rapists out of their scenes and spaces in a militant way.

TFSR: That it is pretty crazy, because historically graffiti has been so male dominated.

KHY: Yeah, so really that’s been most of the push-back. So far as our broader politics in this project, there hasn’t been much push-back because we’re actually graffiti writers in the first place. We’re not people who aren’t a part of graffiti and aren’t just using graffiti to try to reach out to youth or whatever. We’re already graffiti vandals, we have styles, we have history, we have legitimacy, we have these relationships already. And now we’re choosing to use our momentum to try to radicalize the culture and folks that have access to it. All of our campaigns have been about things that are blatantly a problem locally and that most people relate to regardless. People are already mad about them, we don’t really deal with abstract political concepts. We’re not out here putting out academic rants and things like that. We’re acknowledging what people are already well aware of; police murdering people, gentrification, and the recent rise in white supremacy organizing in the Bay Area. These are problems that people are already pissed about.

TFSR: We’re gonna talk a little bit about of the rebellion in the Bay Area against police violence in late 2014 in a second, but I just wanted to ask, you know we’re talking about social media, do you see any interest to create a KHY magazine, or something basically that’s off the internet? Obviously there’s this presence that’s online, I don’t know what you think about this, but how do you feel about graffi ti zines, magazines, publications, basically anything else that’s outside social media?

KHY: Even though social media has helped reach a broader audience, we understand that it’s pretty limited and temporary. We’re working on a zine project which should hopefully be coming out soon.

TFSR: Well that’s awesome to hear. I know there’s a lot of graffiti nerds out there that are rubbing their ears. So let’s talk a little bit about, in fall of 2014 and in the wake of Darren Wilson basically being let off for the killing of Michael Brown Jr. in Ferguson, M.O. There were a series of riots that erupted in the Bay Area, and graffiti writers in my opinion played a huge role in that rebellion. Can you talk about the experience you thought of overall of the members of KHY in that revolt? How did it affect the crew in general? And how do you feel like the revolt changed people, especially those that were kind of like new to either “political action” or anything like that?

KHY: There were some folks involved in this project that were out in the streets. These demonstrations had a positive, energizing affect on most of the youth that came out. The revolt was very empowering for most people, for a lot of newly radicalized folks to feel that power, and to be able to hold space in the streets, to be able to push back cops, to be able to target things that they disagree with or don’t want in their neighborhoods, within the protection of a larger crowd. I think it also helped to establish radical politics within local youth cultures. You saw a lot of cultures being represented, you saw a lot of graffiti writers painting while there were riots in the background, you saw musicians, skateboarders, dancers, etc. A lot of the revolt was very youth-led, very youth involved. I think it was successful in bringing a lot of people out into the streets, being radical and having fun.

TFSR: I was telling people from out of town, I said that I felt that the graffiti writers were kind of like the Bay Area version of the soccer hooligans in Egypt, they kind of played a central role. It seems like a lot of the media, even radical media, overlooked that. It was really interesting to see people writing everywhere, a lot of different things.

KHY: Yeah, graffiti writers were definitely out during the revolt. And so many people do graffiti now; it’s just so widespread. A lot of graffiti crews were out during that. Your comparison of graffiti writers to soccer hooligans as an antagonistic cultural force is a good one, it’s interesting that that dynamic isn’t highlighted much.

TFSR: To our next question, could you talk about the recent sideshows that have taken part in East Oakland, and you might want to talk about “What is a sideshow?” for people listening who have no idea what that is. And KHY’s reaction to the police killing of Richard Perkins, who was killed outside of the sideshow in East Oakland, C.A., and more over what is your view of sideshows in general?

KHY: Well sideshows are a long-standing tradition in Oakland, and they’re essentially car-shows in the street where folks who space in the street and perform stunts with their cars. They do donuts, things like that. It’s like an outdoor, moving car-sport-party. They are a rebellious, self-organized activity of the working class and have a lot of valuable dynamics. In East Oakland, there’s not a lot for the youth to do, and we all know that there’s violence, all that, and these shows alleviate some of the anxiety, depression, and alienation that come with living through all that shit. Sideshows are empowering because they give the youth something to do in the streets collectively, and they give ownership over the streets that they live in while having fun and being rebellious. They’re unique because they’re decentralized, they’re organized without any permits or any formal hierarchy or leaders, and they easily and quickly gather a lot of people. They’re militant and very anti-police. When police come by, they don’t get taken seriously or they’re literally attacked. And often sideshows don’t end until the participants want them to; bottles get thrown at them (the cops). If they catch a lone cop; windows are getting smashed, hoods are getting stomped. Sideshows are usually so big that police can’t get to the center of the sideshow because of all the cars that are taking up the streets for a few blocks. I mean, some of them have hundreds and hundreds of participants, there’s a strong solidarity and a sense of unity when cops show up. Folks don’t snitch on each other and try to avoid internal violence. Sideshows have an insurrectionary potential. They’re often accompanied by graffiti, general public rebellion and sometimes riots. People are militant and often armed. These shows are very fluid and flexible at being able to move from hood to hood, from city to city, very efficiently. Some folks involved in this project are a part of sideshow and car culture in the Bay. Some of us were around, just keepin’ it lit, kickin’ it, when Richard Perkins was murdered. Everyone saw the murder of Richard Perkins as police retaliation for a nonstop weekend of huge sideshows that the police could not control, and for attacks on a couple of police cars also. Everyone saw that as a way for them to try to assert their dominance over Oakland and to scare folks into going back home. The police lied as always, they always do, they claim that he randomly drove up to them and pulled out a gun on them, a fake gun at that. Everyone knows that’s not true. He was at a sideshow having fun, he was not gonna randomly run up to cops and pull out a fake gun on them. This is not the first time this has happened in Oakland, where the pigs say that somebody pulled out a fake gun on them so they had to shoot them. Some are thinking that it may be easier for the State to frame people in Oakland with fake guns that you can’t trace. People were at the scene where the cops show him, they said that he wasn’t doing anything and that once he was shot down, they saw the cops kicking him, moving his body around carelessly. It’s just blatant white supremacist state violence. It was in response to the lawlessness of the sideshows and how they made the police look like they didn’t have any control. Especially with an increasingly gentrified Oakland, the police are really trying to kill that culture and oppress it. It’s really just repression.

TFSR: Let’s switch gears a little bit. Can you talk about the kind of support that KHY’s gotten? Specifically from the Mission District, but also the Bay Area in general. I’ve seen a lot of different articles and stuff being written, kids handing out KHY stickers and stuff like that. Cause it is kind of impressive that KHY has gotten sort of the notoriety within the Bay Area and the Mission District specifically for kind of a taboo activity so to speak. And can you talk about this positive feedback, but also the negative receptions as well?

KHY: I think the support really comes from the fact that again, our campaign and the issues that we’ve been addressing have been things that a lot of people in our hoods already care about. And this moment is kind of a downtime for radical struggles in the Bay Area, so a lot of responses to police murders, gentrification, etc. have mostly been dominated by liberal ideology and pacified nonsense, which folks are alienated from and can see that it usually brings no kind of results. It feels like a slap in the face when the only response to someone in your hood being executed by a racist pig is a so-called “peaceful protest” in which every detail is so micro-managed that the lame ass protest security in yellow vest is staring at you because the message on the sign you’re holding is “too-militant.” The fact that we’ve been engaged in struggles that people are feeling hopeless about in a refreshing, creative way while bringing a militant radical ideology to the forefront definitely has to do with the support we have, despite using a taboo activity. We haven’t really had any negative reactions aside from folks who obviously wouldn’t be down with our project, like yuppies and cop apologists and occasional whining, delusional liberals but who cares about them. At first we thought that we’d be accused of being a gang, but that hasn’t happened much. Most folks are just actually excited to see graffiti writers use creative application to inspire the community and educate folks by discussing revolutionary ideas. They usually are highlighted by the existing liberal left, while also creatively targeting things in the community that everyone hates, whether it be banks, gentrifier businesses, corporations, cop cars, crossing out white supremacist graffiti, the sort of things within the public landscape for all to see, showing that they aren’t untouchable.

TFSR: You mentioned that a couple times, could you just touch on that? White power graffiti in the Bay Area…

KHY: Historically there hasn’t been, aside from the obviously established white supremacy that it’s inherent in a settler state, an open-public-white-supremacist movement in the Bay Area for various reasons. Possibly in relation to gentrification and all these new-comers from new places , there’s been an obvious rise in white-supremacist graffiti. Whether it be swastikas, “white power,” anti-Black messages, anti-Mexican messages, etc. So we decided that was a very easy thing to gather support for targeting, and it’s something that can bring folks together around a common enemy. Despite differences in the community in conflict and divisions, everyone can agree that we don’t want Nazis, we don’t want white supremacists, and by us taking the initiative to start crossing out those messages, we’ve inspired other folks to do so. So now all kinds of people, even those that don’t do graffiti, are buying markers and crossing out these markers where they see ‘em. It’s empowering people to take matters into their own hands, instead of waiting on the liberals or police to do something. They’re engaging with that on their own, because they should, because these are their streets and their struggles.

TFSR: Well let’s talk a little bit about, you mentioned the Bay Area’s kind of been in a down-tide, you’ve all really continued to push since the revolt of late 2014, can you talk a little bit about the kind of different organizing things you guys have done, different community outreach events, and just talk a little more about as you were saying the need to build in these down moments?

KHY: That’s another main focus of this project, to use culture and community organizing to help those ideas actually materialize in our neighborhoods. We can’t just wait for the next uprising or the next series of riots, we can’t just wait for the next police murder and hope this will be the one that will trigger an uprising. In the meantime, between these peak points in struggle, we need to be doing a culture of resistance and building collective capacity. We need to be establishing and normalizing radical thinking within the cultures that make up our communities. We need to be educating and learning from each other. We need to be building relationships, meeting each other, strengthening those relationships, building trust so that when there are peak points in the struggle again, when folks are in the streets, they’ll already have stronger relationships, they’ll trust and recognize each other. And do this cultural work, this grassroots work; we’re also able to bring in new folks and branch out of these closed circles of radicals. We don’t need to wait for peak points in struggles; oppression is always there, exploitation is always there, alienation is always there. So even if there’s nothing going on, or if you’re isolated, or if the city you live in doesn’t have a very established radical movement of any kind, anyone can grab a marker or a spray can and go target and challenge things in their neighborhood that are problematic, spread ideas and creatively take back public space.

TFS: Well I’m really curious, what do you think the possibilities for bringing radical politics into, as you said cultural things. I’m thinking specifically youth culture, from hip-hop to graffiti, to punk, to motorcycle crews, to sports, to anything. What kind of advice would you give to anybody that’s looking to do this style of activity? It doesn’t even have to be graffi ti, but something culturally oriented that doesn’t really kind of have the auspices of political activity.

KHY: I think it’s very possible to bring radical politics into more traditional forms of youth culture. Most of these cultures already have inherently antagonistic aspects, but it needs to be done in a way that carries legitimacy. It needs to be done by folks that are already participants in these cultures. It’s hella see-through when folks who aren’t apart of the culture haven’t put in the work, time, risk, energy, etc. pop their heads up in said culture and try to use it to make politics cool or something. It comes off as corny, opportunistic and insincere. I think it’s really up to those who are already a part of these cultures to bring radical perspectives into them. We’re actually graffi ti writers in the fi rst place, and we’re able to maneuver in a way that allows us to reach a lot of people while remaining authentic and rooted in real graffiti.

TFSR: So for anybody that’s listening to this that is involved in graffiti specifically, and they are like ‘Wow this is great, I have these political ideas and am into graffi ti…’ Is there any advice you’d give them to form something like KHY in their own towns or cities?

KHY: Just do it. Do it. You already have the tools, skills and desires to do graffi ti, and you’re already pulling it off. Just think about placement, strategy, what’s important to you, and see if anyone else is down. That’s our point, that it’s really that easy.

TFSR: ‘Cause I think that’s a really key point that you hinted on, fi nding targets that people already know are like this huge bone of contention, that kind of thinking and strategy is something that’s often missing. Do you wanna just tell people how they can get a hold of KHY stuff, online? Or they can go on instagram and other places?

KHY: Yeah, folks can check us out at keephoodsyours on instagram, or just run into us in the streets. Shout out to all of our Bay Area people in the struggle and all the vandals putting paint where it ain’t, keepin’ it rooted in the streets.

May Day with Peter Linebaugh

Peter Linebaugh

Happy May Day
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To friends we’ve met, and to those we have yet to meet, I’d like to wish everyone a happy May Day. As we’ll hear in the following hour, this day has a long celebrated history. From its many European pagan roots as a celebration of fertility as the fruits of the spring planting season began to… uh, spring forth. Then on to the repressive winter that fell early on May 3rd and 4th of 1886 in Illinois with, first, the killing of workers striking for an 8 hour work day at the McCormick Works and then the repression of anarchist and socialist workers and organizers following the bombing at Haymarket Square in Chicago of that same year. From there to the taking up of May 1st as International Workers Day by struggling groups around the world and the U.S. adoption of a sanctioned Labor Day in September of the year.

To divide an international working class, The U.S. government, oppressors of that May Day 1886 sanctioned a Labor Day to be celebrated in September, declared the first of May both Law Day (an obvious testament to Irony in respect to the Haymarket 8, all jailed and 4 executed) and, for some, it’s celebration as Americanism Day. Whatever that means. In 2006 & 2007, immigrants rights marches were seen on and around May Days that, for many, re-sparked the importance of this day. The protests and festivals swelled to numbers nearly unmatched in the history of protest on Turtle Island, and were accompanied by school and work walkouts and boycott days.

This hour we’ll be hearing Peter Linebaugh, author of the recently printed book “The Incomplete, True, Authentic & Wonderful History of May Day” to present some of his meditations from the last 30 years but covering ancient times, through the first May Pole on Turtle Island, through to today.

The rest of the hour will feature songs that made myself and William, cohost of The Final Straw, feel a bit in the spirit of the day. Whether you’re out there today taking direct action, in repose from the horrors of wage slavery, resisting the carceral state, gardening, dancing around a May Pole or otherwise celebrating the possibilities of this year to come when, hell, we might as well end this system of exclusion and extraction: We wish you a fire on your tongue, love in your heart and free land beneath you.

May Day Across North America

Bloc Party: Fire of Beltane

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Transcription

TFSR: I’m speaking with Peter Linebaugh. Mr. Linebaugh is a Marxist, a historian, and an author. His most recent book is a compilation of essays called The Incomplete, True, Authentic, and Wonderful History of May Day, out from PM Press. Peter, thanks for taking the time for this chat.

Peter Linebaugh: You’re welcome.

TFSR: So May Day is this coming Sunday, when we’ll be airing this episode of the show. For listeners that are out there who may not know can you sketch some of the history of this great and widely celebrated day?

PL: Yes! I like the way you say that it’s great and widely celebrated because for so many American years, it was never celebrated. The ruling class just hated that day. Because it was a day of no work. It was a day to enjoy the springtime. It was a day to go outside. Hooray, hooray! The first of May! Outdoor loving begins today. That’s the spirit of the day. It goes back to the first agricultural civilizations around the great rivers, the Neolithic Revolution. It’s springtime. It’s a time for fertility. I’m speaking from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and the whole world is budding and flowering right now. I imagine that’s somewhat past in North Carolina.

TFSR: It’s a very sexy place here in North Carolina. There’s there’s pollen in the air and a lot of people are suffering from it, but…

PL: So anyways, it was a major pagan festival and survived through years of dominant religions. The State of England, under the Tudors, they forbade it. They made it criminal to hoist a maypole because people would dance around the maypole as part of community celebration and fertility, as you say.

For us in North America, the date to remember is 1627 when Thomas Morton set up a maypole in Quincy, MA, and Native American people and runaway servants and former slaves and antinomians from England, they danced around that maypole. The first poem ever made in the USA was there. I’ll quote it “with the proclamation that the first of May, at Marymount shall be kept a holy day.”

So that’s 1627. The Puritans from Boston came down and shut it down with force of arms. Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote a wonderful story about it, thinking it was the crossroads of American history. We could have gone one way and been happy with the maypole and the spirit that it represented among different kinds of people. Multicultural we’d say today. Or it could have gone the other way, the way of domination, hierarchy, endless war, and endless work.

That brings us to the second major aspect of the day, which we need to celebrate with a different kind of seriousness, and that’s the struggle for the eight-hour day and the massacre of socialists, anarchists, white, indigenous and African Americans in Chicago, back in 1886 at the famous scene at Haymarket. That came as a direct result of a police shooting of workers at the McCormick works. McCormick made the mechanical reaper that brought industry and machines to the earth, to the plains, to cutting grass, cutting grain. Those workers had gone on strike for an eight-hour day, and the police shot them and killed one. In response, the people of Chicago called for a meeting to discuss the issue at Haymarket, where farmers brought in hay for the horses. At that meeting, just a few days after May Day, 1886, a stick of dynamite was thrown. To this day, no one knows whether it was a police provocateur or a misguided anarchist or what. But anyway, there was casualties, including demonstrators, as well as the policemen.

As a result, tremendous repression came down all across the US, not just in Chicago. Seven people were found guilty after a kangaroo trial, and four of them were actually hanged on the 11th of November 1887. We should remember their names: Albert Parsons, we know him especially because of his wife, Lucy, who went on living and carrying the message of the eight-hour day and a workers struggle right into the 1930s. August Spies, before he hanged, he said, “There will come a time when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you strangled today.” That’s been the case. Their silence is powerful, and all of us around the world celebrate and remember those workers, those martyrs, as they’re called in Mexico.

The ruling class of the United States tried to put an end to the celebration right away. They made made an into Law Day. Eisenhower did that. Then they made the workers’ holiday, Labor Day, in September to get it far away from May Day, when workers all over the world celebrated. They wanted to divide US workers from world workers.

I have to admit that they succeeded. People forgot May Day except for a few anarchists in the 1920s. Then in the ‘30s and ‘40s, the Communist Party kept up the tradition of May Day. But the Communist Party, worldwide anyway, associated the day with militarism, and it became something in the Cold War. This gives another reason why, in the United States, we’ve tended to forget that day. Until 2006, when tens of thousands of undocumented workers, most Spanish speaking, flooded the streets of Chicago again, and of Los Angeles and other towns, calling for justice for this new underclass of people denied basic rights as workers or citizens.

While I should also say, my book is called incomplete, because the hope of May Day has not been realized. We still are fighting not only for the eight hour day, but for equality, not equality of opportunity, but equality of economic conditions. I think we should fight this year to own the whole economy, not leave it just to the 1%. It should belong to us all, and we need to reconstitutionalize ourselves, reconstitute ourselves. But now I’m going off on my own views. I hope that gives your listeners some idea of the importance of May Day in the past, especially as it concerns North America.

TFSR: That was a really lovely outline that you just offered. I love the way that in the book you connect themes such as the displacement of indigenous people prior to the period, the Gilded Age of the Haymarket, when the Haymarket affair occurred, the clearing of the pastures, the killing off of buffalo and other residents of the great grasslands of the Midwest, then the connection to the McCormick works creating the reaper that just decimated the grasslands themselves.

PL: Yeah, just produced a buzz cut, didn’t it? Then as a result, we had the Dust Bowl because it was so bad for the soil: monoculture.

TFSR: The essays in the book range from 100 years after the Haymarket, basically 1986 to 2015. From the oldest to the newest, you make the claim a few times that May Day has both a green and a red side. What do you mean by this, and why do you think it’s important to remind people of that?

PL: Well, the green side now, as we’re talking in 2016, with the melting of the ice caps, the pollution of the Pacific Ocean, the destruction of species has a greater meaning, I think, than it did when I first conceived of the idea in the ‘80s. The notion of the green is the notion of photosynthesis, now that I think about it, the relationship of the sun to vegetation. Of course, vegetation is the basis of animal life, so really, all of life depends on… Well, I’m not a biologist, but a great deal of life depends on the green, depends on photosynthesis and chlorophyll. So there’s a literal meaning of green, but there’s also a symbolic meaning of green, which is the joy of living, the joy of life. In contrast to the red. Red I used signify blood and to signify struggle, especially class struggle, and thinking of the red flag of battle.

May Day is a holiday that spans both these notions. It can be both a family day of picnicking, outdoors preferably, and of dancing, and it can be a day of marching and a day of militants, a day of taking back the world that has been dis-commoned and dis-greened (if I can use that phrase), turned into asphalt, turned into concrete. So it’s had both the green and the red. I mean, the green has led to the Anthropocene. It’s led to geological changes of the planet. I think we can restore it, not to the way it was, but to the way it could be, only by a red struggle, only by a mass struggle. I believe people are are interested in that and see the necessity of it all over the world.

Anyway, so that’s kind of the red and the green, but I think it’s up to your readers and listeners to give to these symbols their own meanings from their own experience.

TFSR: Yeah, definitely you leave it with a lot of space for interpretation but draw out some lovely conclusions of your own.

How have you seen the celebration of the day change throughout your lifetime? You mentioned that the through the ‘20s it was remembered by a number of anarchists activists, and through the 1930s, ‘40s, and ‘50s communists in the United States… Just to interject right here, my first May Day that I celebrated was in San Francisco in 2000 during the anti-globalization era, as people call it. There was a giant maypole that was raised and a number of speaker and at the same time a big open-ended pagan celebration and picnic that led to a march eventually. It was really beautiful tying together what you seem to describe as the green and the red. And the marches of 2005 and 2006, as you mentioned.

Can you talk a little bit about how you’ve seen May Day in the popular imagination during your life?

PL: Yeah, I just know my own part of it. I love to hear about that San Francisco May Day. That sounds grand and beautiful. And I love to hear about the immigrant ones, the undocumented worker ones in 2005 and 2006. For me, May Day, an important day is always May 2nd because then I tune into the radio or read the newspaper, or now I guess we have the internet, to see who else in the world has turned out. May Day was so important in bringing down apartheid in South Africa and is still a major day of struggle in South Africa. It’s that way in so many parts of the world. On May 2nd it’s just a good time to check in and see what’s going on.

But for me, it began as a historian in Rochester. We thought let’s try to have a picnic and make it a family day and have some speeches and then sing songs. That’s the way it worked there. Then later, I moved to Boston, and we had different forms of May Day. I remember in Jamaica Plain on May Day we joined a festival called Wake Up The Earth. So on all these occasions I would meet people, old timers who had participated in Union Square in New York, for instance, and in May Day celebrations of the ‘40s. Then here in Washtenaw County, in Southeast Michigan, ever since I’ve lived here, we try to have a picnic, or we have a commons, or we teach children how to dance around the maypole. This year, I think, folks for Black Lives Matter and folks from other social change outfits will probably go to Detroit to join a picnic and march in so called Motor City, which now I guess is known, not as a rust belt, but as a place of urban gardening.

It’s important to do that because the powers that be have been poisoning the waters, as you perhaps have heard of, up in Flint, MI. It’s just a crime what the rulers of our country are doing. We need to bring them to justice to pay for their crimes. Not by long prison sentences. I’m certainly not in favor of that because we need to open the prisons, if anything. But we need to find other ways of making them pay. That is, we need reparations. The main reparations that must come must restore equality. So the riches, the ill gotten gains of the 1%, either they must voluntarily turn them over, or they must be made to do it. That can only be done I think with justice and mass mobilization.

At the moment our mobilizations can’t be that great, but it’s growing. It’s growing bursts. People are wondering, “What is anarchism? What is socialism? What is the political revolution?” These are questions raised by Bernie Sanders, and not to support him, but the questions are important. The discussion that results from them is important, and May Day should be a day to have those discussions. May Day is a day when we need to think deeply about this and to do it with our neighbors. To do it with all kinds of folks, everybody, all workers, all working people who belong to our class of the precariat, students, servers need to be involved in this discussion, as well as farmworkers and undocumented workers. Undocumented workers are so important because they bring the experience of other countries, and they bring also revolutionary experience from other countries. So we have a lot to learn from them.

Anyway, so I’m hoping to learn something myself by meeting some new friends this coming Sunday in Detroit. By the way, I was asking you about the lunch counter sit-ins in North Carolina. I asked you that for a purpose because I think there was an earlier lunch counter sit-in for the same goal of integrated lunch counters here in Ann Arbor, MI, in the 1920s led by Lenore Smith from Mississippi. We learned this by studying May Day in our own locality. I urge all your listeners to study May Day in your locality, to talk to old timers, to search out the old records, even to consult the occasional historian and see what they know and what they remember to bring this back to life.

One way of doing this is a wonderful book by Dave Roediger called the Haymarket Scrapbook, which I recommend. James Green wrote a very good book too called Death in the Haymarket. These are essential readings for those who want to go back to that, those crimes at Haymarket, when the police and the state came down so heavily on the workers, their press, their leaders, and their families, and jailed and hanged so many. In some ways, it’s a sad day.

TFSR: In the Ann Arbor experience that you’re talking about, in the second to last essay you wrote between 1923 and 1928, the Negro Caucasian Club was involved in some of these strikes, right? If listeners want to pursue further.

PL: Right, just get a friendly competition going between your state and Michigan.

TFSR: Competing for who gets the title of first lunch counter sit-ins?

PL: Yes, against segregation. Because of course, the North is so full of Jim Crow, even worse in many ways.

TFSR: Yeah, just kind of a different accent…

PL: They’re not poisoning the waters down in North Carolina, as far as I can see.

TFSR: Well, I don’t know, when you get coal ash ponds that are overflowing into the rivers, or the leaking of chemicals from coal production. Or in Louisiana with cancer alley. I mean, they’re doing it to us everywhere.

PL: Yes, thank you.

TFSR: As a historian, much of your written work has focused on the idea and the history of the commons, or at least that’s an idea that you seem to have played with a lot and documented, from which we draw May Day is a pagan holiday in the European context. Can you talk a bit about what the commons were and the enclosure of that and what you think May Day opens up in terms of the opportunity of the commons?

PL: Yeah, the basic thing about what May Day opens up is that the earth belongs to all. I talked about skipping and dancing on May Day, but the Earth as our sacred habitat, the Earth as Turtle Island, the earth as a place of abundance and joy to share with all kinds of creatures. The way to celebrate that is to climb over the fence, or to go under it or around it or through it, because the enclosures, the privatization of the earth, to produce the incredibly weird fiction that a person can own the earth, or part of it, this needs to change. It’s only in the United States, really, that private property is like this and is enforced with weapons. “Keep Off” and “No Trespassing” signs. Anyone who’s flown, you look down from the air, you see that the whole land is turned into squares or rectangular grids. This is what the founding fathers did. They privatized the common, they privatized the free land where people had lived, hunted, farmed, and gathered for for centuries.

That is the commons in terms of North America, in terms of Europe, and especially England, which which I studied carefully because, well, I grew up in England, and thats what I studied and taught. The enclosure of the village commons, the enclosure of common field agriculture, became the basis of the capitalist mode of production, as we say. It began under Henry the Eighth, who everybody knows because he killed his wives. But he’s the one who took a fifth of English land and sold it off, privatize it, just the way George Washington and them did several hundred years later in the 1790s to North America. They surveyed it with a theodolite and the tools of the surveyor, laid down their lines, and said, “This is mine,” and threw off everyone else who had lived on it. Thus creating the proletariat, as well as agribusiness.

But the commons are a basis of community. People long for community, they long for useful work, so they long for the commons, to share the earth and to share the means of subsistence, the means of production. This is what I meant earlier, when I said, “We demand the whole economy.” Because we really need to rest, to stop being quite so busy, to stop driving for profit, stop driving for “development,” to stop driving for “progress.” Progress for whom? Progress for the 1%. The rest of us need to rest. This is why Sunday and May Day is so important. There used to be hundreds of holidays every year, but the capitalist enterprise and puritanical beliefs shut down those holidays. We’re lucky to have… I was gonna say one a weeK——Sunday, but that’s not even true anymore.

So, community, time of work, is all tied to the commons. It’s not an accident that Henry the Eighth was a wife beater, wife killer. According to documents of his own age, he killed 78,000 people on the gallows. This isn’t the demonize him particularly, but it’s to show at the birth of the modern British state, its project was misogynist, it was enclosing, and then it became slaving. These are the basis of capitalism as we know it. Misogyny, or patriarchy, enclosure, or destruction of the commons, and privatization and slavery. I hope everyone has a great May Day.

TFSR: I really hope so too. Well, thanks for the inspiring conversation. I guess we should maybe get out there and start commoning, right?

PL: Well, people are doing it all over. We have to do it just to survive. Whether we like it or not, whether it’s ideological or not. Poverty requires us to. Either that or suicide. On that happy note… [laughs]

TFSR: Well, Peter, thanks a lot for talking. I enjoyed the book and look forward to reading more of your stuff. Have a great time up in Michigan.

Hilary Klein on “Compañeras: Zapatista Women’s Stories”

http://hilaryklein.org/
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This week, William spoke with Hilary Klein, author/editor of the new book “Compañeras: Zapatista Women’s Stories”, out from Seven Stories Press.

Over the hour, Hilary talks about her 7 years of living in Chiapas and recording the stories and experiences of women there, collecting stories on their behalf. The book covers the Zapatistas experiences before the EZLN uprising of 1994, during that period and after. Discussion address what gender, indigeneity and class looked like and how that’s changed in the Zapatista communities, the state of Chiapas and in Mexico. William and Hilary also explore the effects that the EZLN & La Otra Compaña have had on radicals and anarchists abroad, the origins of the EZLN, some parallels and distinctions between anarchism and Zapatismo and much more.

More writings by Hilary (and links to the book) can be found at http://hilaryklein.org/

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Transcription

TFSR: Will you first introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about what you do?

Hillary Klein: Yes. Thank you so much for inviting me to share this time with you and your listeners. My name is Hillary and I currently work at an organization called the Center for Popular Democracy, which is a national network of community based organizations working for racial justice, economic justice, and immigrant rights. I’ve been doing social justice work for a long time, but that included several years that I spent in Chiapas, Mexico, working with Zapatista communities in indigenous villages, and specifically with women’s projects. So I feel like it’s all connected, because whether it’s here in the US or whether it’s abroad, I feel like it’s all one vision of a world of greater justice and greater dignity. The book that I wrote came out of that experience working with women’s cooperatives and women’s projects in the Zapatista communities.

TFSR: So you went to Chiapas through your work?

HK: Not in the sense of for a job. I went to Chiapas was actually in 1997 thinking that I was just going to stay for a couple of weeks or maybe a couple months. So, I was there originally as a human rights observer and as a volunteer on solidarity projects, but it was such a compelling movement and such a fascinating time. I felt like history was kind of unfolding before my eyes. How could I not say and witnessed it or be part of it in some way? So I ended up staying, and I stayed on, and I ended up staying about six years. Much longer than I had expected. So, I was there from 1997 till about 2003. So I’ve been back in the US for a little more than 10 years doing what I consider to be the same work, but it’s not actually like I was working for the same organization or anything.

TFSR: I do want to talk to you more about your time in Chiapas in a later question. But just to lay some solid groundwork for any listeners who are unfamiliar, would you be willing to talk us through some historical bullet points of the Zapatista movement?

HK: Yeah, of course. So the Zapatista movement is also called the EZLN, which is a Spanish acronym for the Zapatista Army of National Liberation. It’s primarily a social movement, a very broad grassroots radical social movement in southern Mexico, fighting for indigenous rights for land, but for also for a whole kind of host of broader demands that I think are very universal in the sense of: for dignity, for justice, for equality, for democracy, and has really resonated with people around the world.

So, in addition to being a social movement, it also has a rebel army. They did choose the path of armed struggle. After many years of fighting for change in their own context, out of a sense of desperation, seeing children die from preventable diseases, for example, they chose the path of armed struggle, feeling like they had no option left but to stand up for themselves and force the government to listen. The communities and Chiapas are historically extremely poor, extremely marginalized. That’s really a legacy from colonialism. The history of racism, the history of economic exploitation, all that goes back, more than 500 years. Those legacies are still things that those communities are facing today.

The Zapatista movement comes out of that history of 500 + years of indigenous resistance, it also comes out of the legacy of the Mexican Revolution. So the name Zapatista comes from Zapata. Emiliano Zapata was a hero of the Mexican Revolution who fought for ‘Tierra y Libertad,’ land and freedom. So they very much carried on that banner. But they also recognize that neoliberalism or global capitalism, whichever you want to call it, is kind of the current political and economic system, which reproduces many of those same legacies of inequality, of injustice, and exploitation that began with colonialism.

So, they actually rose up in arms on January 1 1994. That was the same day that NAFTA, which is the North American Free Trade Agreement, went into effect. They chose that day to highlight that relationship with global capitalism, with neoliberalism. So that’s where many of us around the world first heard of the Zapatistas. For myself, speaking personally, it was really an important moment. It came kind of at the tail end of the Cold War. So there was this question in the air for people of my generation, I was 19 at the time in 1994, of what the next wave of social movements would look like after the end of the Cold War. The capitalists were claiming victory, free trade – the market won. So it was really inspiring to see this model of this example of what a new social movement might look like. It’s really inspired people ever since then. So that was 20 + years ago.

After that very brief armed uprising, the Zapatistas have not used their weapons ever since then. They do still have an insurgent army. That’s, I think, an important thing to know about them in terms of their character as a very militant movement. But it’s also in reality, it’s much more of a broad social movement, in terms of its actions, and has become much more known for peaceful mobilizations, for political marches and other actions, for convening civil society. Mexican as well as international civil society, to come together and talk about the different problems that we face different strategies of how we can find solutions collectively and build a world of of greater dignity and justice.

It’s also become very known for its project of indigenous autonomy. So in its own territory, in eastern Chiapas, they’ve developed autonomous governments, their own health care and education systems. They have a whole system of economic cooperatives, which have developed an economy that’s based on cooperation and solidarity, rather than one that’s based on on profit.

TFSR: I was really struck by… because there’s lots of parts in your book, and a lot of its interview based, but I remember reading that the Zapatistas would come down from the mountains posing as teachers, or whoever, and just start talking to people. And it has so much an emphasis on people talking to each other and being like, “why are you so poor? Why don’t you have as much to eat as you need? Why do you need to do all this work?” Trying to get people’s wheels turning.

HK: Definitely. I think that that same concept that you’re pointing out, of dialogue, I think has been really important within the Zapatista movement. But also, when I mentioned convening civil society at the national or international level, I think that same concept of dialogue that you’re describing has really been important in terms of how the Zapatistas have engaged with people around Mexico and around the world. Using that same process of listening to each other, of asking questions that really makes each other think, “Why is this injustice the case? What can we do about it?” And so I think that that’s been one of the ways it’s been so effective for them to spark people responding by organizing in their own contexts around the world.

TFSR: And it seems like those conversations were extremely non coercive, meaning that people were like, “Oh, there’s this meeting where people are talking about it, come to it if you want.”

HK: I think that’s right. So, when I mentioned that 1994 was the Zapatista uprising, the very brief uprising, they had actually been organized in clandestine way for 10 years before that, from 1983 to 1994. 1983 is when the EZLN was formed in the mountains of the jungles of Chiapas. So for the next 10 years, they were doing exactly what you’re describing, talking to people in the villages, asking them questions, encouraging them to organize. There was very strong movements in Chiapas like I mentioned. People turn to armed struggle, because they had already been, many people who became Zapatistas, had been engaged for years and years in campesino movements, for example, or indigenous rights movements, asking for land reform from the government, for example, and really seeing no response.

The Zapatistas often referred to themselves, and have been called, ‘the voice of the voiceless.’ So it’s really the sense of very, very marginalized, kind of forgotten corner of Mexico and people making this decision to take their own destiny into their own hands. So I think when the original core guerrilla nucleus that formed in 1983, began to really reach out for people in the villages. It just was a very fertile moment for people to say, “Yes, it’s time. We need to take this to a whole other level and demand our rights and do that in a determined and courageous way.”

TFSR: I’d love to talk a little bit about your book, which is called ‘*Compañeras: Zapatista Women’s Stories,*’ and it is heavily interview based, drawn from interviews, many of which you conducted yourself, with people who directly experienced working with the EZLN and you mentioned that you lived in Chiapas itself from 1997 to 2003. Would you talk a little bit about more about your time living in Zapatista communities in Chiapas?

HK: Like I mentioned, when I went down there I wasn’t planning to stay for so long. But one of the reasons that I felt like history was kind of unfolding before my eyes… The Zapatistas movement in itself was incredibly inspiring to me at that time. I was so struck by it. But in particular, the role of women has always been crucial. I think this is true for many social movements. This had been my experience, personally, as well as something I had studied was the experience of women within many social movements, where on the one hand, there’s this opportunity, and you are engaged in this whole new way, and at the same time, even within that social movement, women have had to fight for their own rights within that to defend themselves.

So, I have had this kind of long standing interest in women’s participation in radical and revolutionary social movements. So when I got to Chiapas, it was that particular aspect of history, that was unfolding before my eyes were, on the one hand, women have played a critical role in the Zapatista movement from the very beginning, and at the same time, had to push for a lot of changes internally. There was a lot that was still evolving and unfolding. I was very struck by that combination of these amazing, strong, courageous, inspiring women leaders. And also the participation of women within the Zapatista movement was continuing to evolve. That was what compelled me to stay for so much longer.

I got involved with the women’s cooperatives in particular, because it’s an economic space for women to generate resources collectively and invest those resources back into their communities. But because it’s an all-women’s space. There are all women’s collectives, and all men’s collective, that really stems from, because gendered division of labor still exists to a large degree. So women’s collectives tend to be artisan collectives, or vegetable gardens, or chicken raising collectives.

Because they are all-women’s spaces, they’re also really an area where women oftentimes come to voice and come to their own sense of power for the first time. It’s the first time they might be participating outside of the home or learning to speak up. So it’s kind of like a springboard for women’s involvement in other ways in the Zapatista movement.

So that was the kind of work that I was drawn to. This coworker and I developed a project kind of hand in hand with the Zapatista women leaders, their kind of regional representative. So we had sort of an ongoing conversation with them about what might be useful, and what would be helpful for us to do as outsiders, and develop this project of supporting women’s cooperatives and women’s regional organizing in general. So that was what I did for most of the time that I was there in Chiapas.

TFSR: Apart from artisanal stuff and vegetable gardening, and what were some of the projects that the women’s collective did?

HK: They were each organized around whatever different economic activity they decide. This is just one way that women are organized. But in particular, in economic cooperatives, women often talk about how the first step is to get together as a women’s meeting or women’s assembly and decide to form a cooperative, and then decide what type of cooperatives they want to form. So, they might decide, for example, to start a vegetable garden or to start a chicken raising collective and they’ll each contribute something like one peso each to buy seeds and start the vegetable garden, or they each contribute one hen, and then that’s how they start to chicken raising collective.

Some of the ones that are most common… Those ones that we mentioned, the artisan cooperatives, tend to be for outside consumption, so they sell more to an external market. A lot of the other ones are really more geared towards internal consumption. So even as they’re generating resources, with vegetable gardens for example, they’re addressing nourishment in their communities. That’s a big source of health problems, because people have historically had a pretty limited diet. In addition to generating those resources, they’re also producing for local consumption.

Another example of that is sometimes the women open collective stores. Because some of these villages are very isolated, it also allows people in the villages to buy from a local store, instead of having to travel just for basic goods. So, individuals don’t have to travel two or four or six hours to the closest city. The cooperative store does that buying and selling. So it’s making a little bit of money, but it’s also providing that service to the local community. And then the women collectively decide how they want to spend those resources. So they might be responding to emergencies, like if one woman is very sick, they can help her out, or if there’s a political mobilization, or they might decide to invest in the autonomous school.

So, there’s a lot of different ways, but that decision making process also is very important. It’s another way that is very empowering for the women who are involved to be engaged in, “Okay, we’ve generated these resources. Now, what do we want to do with the resources that we’ve generated?”

TFSR: The issue of food is so important, because it seems that so many of the women that you interviewed are indigenous women, and who were born into what I might call, a kind of indentured servitude. Is that completely inaccurate? Food was a very, very restricted resource for people who were subsistence farming to sustain themselves, but they were given for the most part infertile land or lands that just nothing would grow on.

HK: Yeah, absolutely. Some of what we were talking about earlier in terms of the legacies of colonialism have to do exactly with what you’re talking about, where the land that historically had belonged to indigenous peasants, was basically stolen from them. And ever since colonialism has existed, it has been really concentrated in the hands of a very few wealthy families in Chiapas that are basically European descended. Even though there have been some stages of land reform in Mexican history. Some of the biggest fincas, in a lot of parts of Latin America they’re called haciendas, in Chiapas are called fincas, they’re basically large plantations. When we think about the South in the United States, for example, the plantations, that historic cotton picking plantations.That type of economy. Where in Chiapas, they weren’t literally slaves, but like you said, they were basically indentured servants.

So, even though those exact same structures didn’t exist anymore, it looked very similar in terms of the indigenous peasants having either to live and work full time on the fincas, or they have these very small plots of land up kind of on the rocky mountainside where basically nothing grew. So land and the food that they produced was just a huge source of inequity, or manifestation of that inequity, the injustice that people were living with. People actually talk about the hunger months, ‘el tiempo de hambre’, when their corn had run out from one season and they hadn’t harvested the corn from the next season and there’s this kind of gap in between where they just literally didn’t have enough to eat.

So, that’s kind of historically what people were dealing with. It was just so very core to people’s lives and people’s experiences.

TFSR: You mentioned that you came over to Chiapas. Could you speak about writing on this topic from the perspective of a relative outsider? Could you talk about how that influenced your approach?

HK: So at the tail end of the time that I was there, one of the projects that I worked on before I left was an internal document where the women wanted to record their own stories. I think Zapatista women recognize that they’ve been part of something pretty historic, and they wanted to record that for themselves. But they also really wanted to use it as a tool for education for organizing with other women. So I did that project, which was really amazing. You mentioned earlier, that a lot of the books is heavily based on interviews that I did with different women. And so a lot of the interviews were kind of throughout the time that I was there. But a lot of them were particularly from this time period, when I was doing this project with the women that was initially just for themselves. But once we finished it, and they have this product, which was like a popular education manual. It was really geared towards them not only having their own stories documented, but being able to kind of use it to educate and organize other women. They themselves said, “You know what? We actually really want to share these stories with an outside world as well. And how do you feel about doing something like this book, but for an outside audience?”

I tell that whole story, because I feel like your question is coming from this really important place of what is the role of an outsider in writing a book like this. I had spent several years at that point, working very closely with the Zapatistas very much always as an outsider, right? It’s not my community. It’s not my context. But I was very close with the communities at that point. I would not have felt like it was appropriate for me to go and publish this book or share their stories if it hadn’t been specifically a request or a suggestion that came originally from them.

I felt like it was important personally, because in this country so much has been written about the Zapatistas, but very little about women and even less in their own words. So even though it is my book, I felt like my role was much more as a cultural bridge to create a vehicle for women to share their own stories. So the book contains a lot of my own writing, where I introduce the women or I share historical background or some context, but my intention was always to do that as a foundation for an outside audience to be able to then engage with the women’s stories from having the necessary background, but then to hear really directly from them.

So, like you said, the book is very heavily based on these interviews. And that was really the most important thing to me. And so just going back more concretely, to your question, I think that I, as an outsider, did have the ability to kind of create that bridge, especially in an audience in this country, but like I said, very much coming from a commitment to create the space for the women to kind of tell their own stories and people to hear as directly as possible. Because I had been so incredibly touched, and moved, and inspired by all these women that I had worked with over the years. Their stories of transformation, their stories of struggle, their stories of courage had been so meaningful to me, that when they were the ones that suggested that to me, it was such an honor to think of me creating that vehicle for them to share the stories with a broader audience.

TFSR: Yeah, for sure. And speaking as another outsider, it was really amazing to be able to read their experiences in their own words. So I’ve strongly benefited from that. It’s a pretty incredible experience to be able to do that.

HK: I mean, the fact that you have that experience of it makes me feel like I accomplished what I set out to do.

TFSR: It’s amazing that because Zapatismo has, like you said, so many visible female leaders like Comandanta Ramona comes to mind, but there hasn’t been much written about Zapatista women.

HK: Yeah, there has been some stuff written for sure. There is stuff out there, but relative to how much has been written overall about the Zapatista movement, I feel like there was a real gap. What’s been written about Zapatista women I feel like hasn’t been thorough. So, I really felt like it was important to me.

TFSR: Will you speak to the political roots of Zapatismo. It seems to me that there were some strongly Maoist communist and militaristic currents in there. Since this is an anarchist radio show, I feel like I should ask that question to clarify that for the listening audience?

HK: One thing I think that is very fascinating, I think specifically from an anarchist perspective is that Zapatismo is a blend of many different political traditions. Political and also historical and cultural traditions that didn’t come out specifically of an anarchist trajectory, but ends up having a lot in common with anarchism. I think anarchists around the world have really related to the Zapatistas because of some of these core principles that the Zapatistas have come to represent, including not trying to take State power, that they instead believe in kind of creating power from below, creating alternative institutions to the State and having a lot of very horizontal structures. And then all the stuff that we’re talking about, about indigenous autonomy, and having a critique not only of the State, but of the whole political system, and they’ve been very clear that they’re not going to turn into a political party. Which was a path that many Central American guerrilla movements too and eventually converted into political parties.

But in terms of the roots, which you were asking about. So that’s all to say that the end product of Zapatismo has a lot in common with anarchism, but it came from all these very different places and political historical roots. One of the things that I think is so unique, and to the Zapatistas credit, has been their ability to draw the best of different political traditions. We were talking a little bit earlier about the history of the Zapatista movement, there was this core nucleus of Marxist guerrillas that came out of the student movement in the 60’s in the 70’s throughout Mexico. They went down and formed that initial guerrilla nucleus that we were talking about in 1983. But they really began to interact with the Campesino movements, the Indigenous movements in Chiapas at the time, with the Catholic Church, which was very heavily influenced by Liberation Theology, like you said, there was Maoist groups down there at the time. I think what the Zapatistas were able to do, was to blend all that into something that was kind of new and unique, that I would now call Zapatismo that came from these very different political threads.

I think a lot of the more horizontal aspects came from the history of the indigenous communities themselves. The original core of Zapatistas who were not from Chiapas, which we’re only a handful of people really. I mean, numerically speaking, the Zapatista movement is pretty much all indigenous peasants from Chiapas, but there was this original group that came from elsewhere to kind of start, at that time, their vision was much more like the the vision of the Cuban revolution.

In some of the really poetic writing about the Zapatistas themselves and how they’ve described themselves, Marcos, for example, who is a male non-indigenous leader that was the spokesperson for the Zapatista movement for many years. He talks eloquently about that process of indigenization of the Zapatista Army in some ways. So if people are interested, I definitely encourage them to look up some of those writings or descriptions of that process. They are very fascinating.

TFSR: Apparently, I heard that Subcomandante Marcos, who was like the leader of the Zapatista movement, abolished himself as a Subcomandante. Did you hear about that? And is that true?

HK: It is true. It’s funny because he… I don’t mean this to sound dismissive. I feel like everything he does, he sort of has to do with a flourish. So even the way that you describe it as like, “He abolished himself.” He basically, in practical terms, what he was doing was kind of passing off the reins to other, indigenous leaders. Which I think is great. It was time for that to happen.

The indigenous communities had chosen Marcos as their spokesperson, I think they legitimately recognized that he would be able to play the role of reaching out to the world, and he’s a very poetic, very philosophical, charismatic, kind of articulate leader. And at the same time, it feels right that it was time to kind of pass on those reins to the local, indigenous leadership. So it was about a year ago, he said that Marcus had died and reemerged as Galeano. Galeano was the name of a man who was killed about a year ago in an attack against one of the Zapatista communities. And so, he renamed himself Galeano, in honor of the person who had been killed. And at the same time, said that it was time for him to kind of pass this on to other leadership.

So there’s a new Subcomandante, who now has that role. It’s kind of an interesting dual role of military leader and spokesperson. The Subcomandante is not actually the political leader of the EZLN, there’s a political body of leaders, which is kind of chosen by all the different communities. There’s different layers, each community has an assembly, and then each region has an assembly, and they kind of choose their representatives at each of those levels. So, at the highest level is the political comandantes, which is a collective body of leadership, the political leadership of the EZLN. Actually the subcomandante is called subcomandante, because he is under their direct command. So the military leadership is underneath the command of the political leadership.

But because he’s also the spokesperson, it’s the person that people most often kind of associate with the Zapatista movement. Then what we were speaking about earlier, in terms of not hearing from women, part of that is because there has been this one person who has been kind of the most well known leader of the Zapatista movement who also happens to be a man. It’s just that’s like the one, if people have generally heard of one Zapatista, it’s usually Subcomandante Marcos.

TFSR: You write in chapter one of your book that the injustices that people faced were the roots of the Zapatista revolutionary movement. To that end, would you describe general conditions that the women you spoke to faced before the influence of the Zapatistas?

HK: Yeah, definitely. So Comandanta Esther, who was another one of the powerful women Zapatista leaders, she one time spoke before the Mexican Congress in 2001. It was the first time an indigenous woman had ever spoken to the Mexican Congress, which itself is startling. So, she spoke to the Mexican Congress, and she talked about women Chiapas being exploited or oppressed three times over, she said, “first, because we’re poor, second, because we’re indigenous, and third, because we’re women.” I think that really gets at the heart, we were already talking about some of the legacies of colonialism. Indigenous women deal with all of that. They deal with the racism, they deal with the poverty, they deal with economic exploitation, but then they also deal with gender discrimination.

The way you framed it, before the influence of the Zapatista movement, just as sort of an extraordinary level of lack of rights in the sense that they were pretty much confined to their home, couldn’t leave their home without the permission from their husband or their father. From the very time they were girls they were basically told they didn’t have rights, they didn’t have a voice, their role was just to work in the home and to take care of kids. That’s obviously very important, dignified work, raising children and taking care of the home, but it’s not something that I believe women should be limited to.

Then in terms of the family life, women were married very young, oftentimes, against their will. When they were maybe 13 or 14 years old, their father would arrange a marriage for them, basically. Then women oftentimes had 10, 12, sometimes 15 kids, and so had very little control over their own lives, their own bodies, the decisions that impacted their lives. And the realm of public decision making was really dominated by men.

So, the Zapatista women, the older women, this is what their lives were. They oftentimes talk about, the first chapter of the book is called something like ‘stories of our mothers or grandmothers,’ because they oftentimes refer to these as the stories that our mothers, our grandmothers had told us, including the Zapatista women who were still around today. This is what they grew up with, just this really intense level of discrimination and marginalization.

TFSR: I had a thought, because I remember reading an interview with one person, I don’t remember what her name was, but she basically described the difference between societal men’s work and women’s work. She said that, “the men’s work is hard, yes, but people get to take breaks, and we never really get to take breaks. We have our, like you said, our 13 children, two babies on our hip, grinding flour for tortillas, and getting water and cleaning the house and doing all sorts of odd jobs, and also caring for many, many children, and not ever getting to take a break. People often were just ill a lot be from overwork and malnourishment and all that stuff.” So I found that really striking.

HK: Yeah, it’s kind of extraordinary. And, like you said, in terms of the women’s workday, they talk about the kind of double workday that I think women in this country still experience. The expectation that after a day’s work, you come home and women are still largely expected to be the ones doing primary childcare and taking care of the home. But it was to such an extreme degree, like you said, women were basically working nonstop from the moment that they woke up to the moment that they went to bed. Oftentimes would go out to the field and work side by side with the men. So that was, “men’s work” was working in the fields. But then once men were done with that day of work, they would kind of come home and rest, whereas the women would come home and then continue to do all the other work that they were doing, the domestic work and everything else that you were describing.

TFSR: So we’re talking about a lot of like, positive aspects of the EZLN. And there are many, many, many of them. But since it’s an organization that’s run by people, and people are flawed, and all of this stuff, I wanted to bring up a quote that I was struck by on page 95, which goes, “women’s right to own or inherit land has not been staunchly defended by Zapatista authorities in the ways that their equal right to political participation has.” Will you speak about the cultural and social aspects of this dispute?

HK: Yeah, so, when we were talking earlier about how important land is, it’s important to the indigenous communities of Chiapas economically, because it is the source of food and of income. Also as indigenous people, it’s really important to them, culturally, spiritually, this concept of Mother Earth. They don’t think of land as private property. So, the Zapatistas carried out a bunch of land takeovers in 1994 in the same context of the uprising, one of the other actions that they took was these land occupations, and then they redistributed these fincas that we were talking about before, to indigenous peasants, Zapatistas, throughout the state of Chiapas. That made a huge difference in people’s lives. When we were talking earlier, also about the ‘hunger month,’ when people didn’t have enough crops to literally feed themselves throughout the year, people living on this retaken land, this land was much more fertile, they had more access access to more land. That means just a huge difference in people’s lives in terms of their kind of economic livelihood, in terms of their food security, and again, in terms of their identities as indigenous people, it’s culturally, spiritually, just having a territorial base has been super important and to the Zapatista movement in terms of having an area of land where they are experimenting with all these other aspects of society. The society that they’re building. All of that has been very important.

Like I said that they don’t think of land as private property, but it is still divided. So, individuals will work on a particular parcel of land, so they don’t own that land, but that’s their kind of parcel of land to farm on. And the Zapatistas… I think it’s one of the few areas where, like you said in that quote is compared to women’s political participation, the EZLN as an organization has very staunchly defended women’s right to be involved in the movement at all levels, but with the access to land, it hasn’t been. It’s actually one of the few areas that stood out to me, where the EZLN, I believe, could have been more proactive, and hasn’t been. So, they’ve kind of reproduced some of the gendered assumptions that women don’t need access to land in the same way. When they have divided up, for example, the land that they took over, they divided up those individual parcels primarily to men. Then it was up to, it’s mostly individual families to decide, as they pass land on to the next generation, if they would pass it on kind of equally to the sons and daughters, or just to the son.

When we were talking earlier about women fighting for their rights within different social movements. They’ve continued to push and it is kind of an internal debate. I think there’s been a lot of movement around it. A shift has definitely taken place. But I think we haven’t seen as big as a shift there in terms of access to land for women are equally between women and men as we have seen some really pretty incredible shifts and other types of transformations that women have experienced.

I think it’s just a fascinating example that no movement is perfect, none of us as individuals are perfect, and our social movements aren’t perfect either. For me personally, it’s one of the few areas that I think the EZLN could have taken a more proactive stand in terms of the women’s agrarian rights.

TFSR: Yeah, I mean, these kinds of social societal changes happen so slowly and revolutionizing the way that we overthrow misogyny in ourselves and in our communities, I think will be a thing that will last the entirety of humans lasting. However long that may be.

On the on the note of some of the more positive social changes that the EZLN brought about, one of the more striking changes of the organization was a women’s revolutionary law, which was shared publicly after 1994. Will you speak about this law and about its role in Zapatista history.

HK: The women’s revolutionary law was written and passed by the EZLN in 1993 leading up to the Uprising. Then they shared it publicly, like you said, after the Uprising in 1994. It was a very important document, and I’ll talk in a second about some of what it contains. But I think it was very important, both in terms of all the work that went into it, and then all the work that has happened since then to implement it. So there’s this one point in time when it was passed, but also represents, like you were saying a second ago, that change takes time.

Iin the end of the late 80’s and early 90’s, like when we were talking earlier about the clandestine organizing that the EZLN was doing in the communities. One very important aspect of that was, and in particular, oftentimes, it was women insurgents who were talking to women in the different villages, and really sort of instigating that same sense of asking about injustice that we were talking about earlier, women were doing that specifically around women’s rights and around gender discrimination and asking women, “do you think life really has to be like this? How else could life look like?” And so all these women’s assemblies and talks and conversations went into creating the women’s revolutionary law. So, there were the political leaders as well as the military leaders, early women leaders in that time, really carried out the series of conversations. That was what became the women’s revolutionary law. So they drew up all of those proposals into this document that was passed by the political leadership, the comandantes, in 1993. It became a framing document regarding what women’s rights in Zapatista territory are.

So, in terms of what it actually says, it talks about women’s right to participate in the movement at all levels. That gets at their political participation, their leadership in their communities, their ability to be military leaders in the Zapatista rebel army. But it also talks about a very broad range of areas of life. And so it talks about women’s right to health care and education. It talks about women’s right to live free of violence. It talks about about women’s right to decide who to marry and how many children to have. So, it really addresses across both public and private spheres, family life, community life, political life. And in some ways, those rights are very basic, but putting each of them into practice is hugely transformative.

Then once the law was passed, the work that then came to implement it was work of consciousness raising, work of education, work of changing those family norms. I think if you look at each one of the points in the revolutionary women’s law, there has been huge transformation that’s taken place. I think it’s so important that you asked earlier about what were women’s lives like before the Zapatista movement, because that helps give us an understanding of just how extraordinary those transformations were. From that situation that the women describe themselves, their mothers, their grandmothers living in, to what Zapatista women have achieved in really an incredibly short period of time.

On the one hand, I totally agree with what you said a second ago about patriarchy, that it’s something that it takes a huge amount of time to uproot. I can’t really fault the Zapatistas for not having ended patriarchy in the 20 years that they’ve been at it, because I don’t think anywhere in the world, I don’t think there’s been anywhere that patriarchy has been completely uprooted.

TFSR: That’d be such a tall order.

HK: And if there is somewhere out there, and your listeners know of that place, please let me know,

TFSR: You’ll be the first to know, definitely,

HK: That’d be great. Maybe one of you listeners will call and let us know. “This is where patriarchy has been uprooted.”

But there was a huge amount of transformation that took place in this very short time period, in types of changes that I think in many contexts take sort of generations to unfold. The level of women’s political participation, the level of their leadership in the movement, the changes that have taken place in the home, I think those points of the revolutionary law have really, to a large degree been implemented by women choosing if they want to marry at all, and if they do, who they settle down with, how many children they have.

So, there’s a lot of work to be done. But there’s also just a tremendous amount that’s been accomplished. And that I think, is also really at the heart of why I wanted to publish this book, and why I wanted to create that vehicle for women to tell their own stories, because not only are those transformations so incredible, but I think there’s so many lessons to be learned. It is a very different context. What it can look like, what it can mean to accomplish those types of transformations in our own lives,

TFSR: Obviously, the EZLN has had a lot of international effects on people. Will you speak to some of the impacts that this movement has had on radical and anarchist societies and other countries, especially concerning the involvement of women? And to what extent do you see it still having an effect?

HK: Definitely. I do really believe that ever since 1994, the Zapatista movement has been one of the most impactful social movements around the world that has just had a tremendous ripple effect in terms of influencing and inspiring people around the world. And I think there’s some really concrete examples of that and at the same time, I think it’s really hard to measure, but just kind of undeniably out there.

So, one of those really concrete examples is the anti-globalization movement of the late 1990s. So if folks remember or have heard of the protests in Seattle against the World Trade Organization, or some of the other mobilizations that were taking place around the world. That really was something, the Zapatistas helped plant the seeds of that movement in some of those gatherings that I was talking about earlier that the Zapatistas have acted kind of as conveners of those conversations.

So they invited people to their territory, and people came throughout Mexico, but really from all over the world. And they really put this call out for anyone who’s been negatively impacted by global capitalism. So whether that’s because you are a student, or a worker, or a housewife, or transgender person, or whatever the case may be. When I was talking earlier about their demands being very universal, but I think it’s also been that type of call to anyone who has been exploited, oppressed, who’s faced injustice, and so many different people from so many different walks of life respond that call. So in the late 90’s, the focus of that was really in the context of neoliberalism and thinking about how can we address that. So the anti-globalization movement of the late 90’s. It wasn’t the only thing, but it was one of the things that really helped plant those seeds.

So, that’s, I think, you know, one concrete example. But besides that, there’s so many different collectives, organizations, groups around the world that have been influenced by the Zapatistas. It’s hard to name or measure that impact. But I do feel like it’s intangible, but undeniable. I think young people today continue to be inspired by the Zapatistas. They’re not in the spotlight in the same way they were kind of 10, 15, 20 years ago. But I continue to hear constantly about different examples of people who are really influenced by the Zapatistas, inspired by them, and then concretely influenced by them.

And in terms of women, I think it has been a really key example of not only having a movement that has strong women leadership, but a movement that’s also been able to evolve. When we were talking earlier about the roots of Zapatismo and I was saying that one of the things that makes the Zapatistas somewhat unique, I think, is their ability to draw from different political traditions and kind of be fluid and adapt. Their approach to gender is an example of that. So even though on the one hand, they were always committed to women’s participation, but there has also been a real evolution of their gender analysis. They would not use the word ‘feminist,’ it’s not the term they would use, but I think they have developed a much more nuanced analysis of gender and really taken on this question of, “What does it look like to uproot patriarchy?” So, yes, it will take time. But there’s been kind of a whole new series of strategies to address patriarchy to really uproot it. I think that that is so inspiring and is something that many of us in different social movements around the world can still really look to as a model that there’s a lot that we’ve won, but there’s a lot more to do.

I think the Zapatistas, and for me, personally, the Zapatista women in particular, but one of the aspects of the Zapatista movement that I think that really resonates is this combination of, on the one hand, being kind of humble enough to know that they don’t have all the answers. So, they have this philosophy of ‘making the road by walking’ and constructing the world of justice and dignity that they want to live in building that step by step, stone by stone. So, I think that humility is really important to know that we don’t have all the answers, nobody has all the answers. But at the same time, having kind of the the chutzpah, having the courage to say, “that’s not going to stop us” from dreaming big and from taking on global capitalism, or from declaring war on the Mexican government. And for women, it’s not going to stop them from you know, asking, “How do we address patriarchy? And how do we take all this stuff on?”

So I think that combination, that humility combined with the courage to dream big, and act on those dreams, is the one kind of thing that I would like to leave your listeners with. I think that message is true in general, but for me, as a woman, I would say, in particular, for women, women engaged in other struggles where it’s all connected, right? Women’s rights are connected to economic justice and social justice and racial justice. And as we fight for all those things in this interconnected way, that’s kind of the message that if there was one thing I would choose that I would like to share what I took away from those years that I spent in Chiapas, and what I kind of hoped to convey in the book, that would be it.

TFSR: Hilary Klein, thank you so much for taking the time to talk to us about your book Compañeras: Zapatista Women’s Stories, which is available from Seven Stories Press and I highly, highly recommend it. It’s a really, really good read and I learned a lot from it. Thank you so much for talking with me today.

HK: Oh yeah, it was such a pleasure chatting with you.

Dixie Be Damned: a regional history of the South East through an Insurrectional Anarchist lense

http://www.akpress.org/dixie-be-damned.html
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This week, we’re excited to present a conversation with Saralee Stafford and Neal Shirley, editors and authors of a new book out from AK Press entitled “Dixie Be Damned: 300 years of Insurrection in the American South”. The book is a study of Maroon, Indigenous, White, Black, worker, farmer, slave, indentured, women and men wrestling against institutions of power for autonomy and self-determination. All of this in a region stereotyped to be backwards, slow, lazy, victimized and brutal. The editors do a smash-bang job of re-framing narratives of revolt by drawing on complex and erased examples of cross-subjectivity struggles and what they can teach us today about current uprisings in which we participate.

Throughout the hour we explore some of the examples that became chapters in the book, critiques of narrative histories and academia and what new ways forward might be towards an anarchist historiography. Keep an ear out for Saralee and Neal’s book tour, coming to a bookspace near you.

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George Katsiaficas and South Korea’s Peoples Movements in the 20th Century (April 24, 2012)

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This week we’re speaking with Dr. George Katsiaficas, author and contributor to over a dozen books on Peoples Movements and the elucidator of the Eros Effect. For over a decade, Dr. Katsiaficas has been studying the culture and history of South Korea and it’s culture and has just published the first volume of a two part series on People’s uprisings in Asia, entitled “Asia’s Unknown Uprisings: South Korean Social Movements in the 20th Century” from PM Press.

For more of Dr. Katsiaficas’ writing, check out his website at www.eroseffect.com

Continue reading George Katsiaficas and South Korea’s Peoples Movements in the 20th Century (April 24, 2012)

Police Abolition: An interview with Kristian Williams

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Today’s show features an interview with the Portland-based author and activist, Kristian Williams. Williams speaks on his first book, Our Enemies in Blue: A History of Policing in America), on recent articles about community policing and the counterinsurgency training shared between the U.S. military and domestic law enforcement agencies and the growing movement calling for the abolition of police in the United States, and the Pacific Northwest in particular). The show will air at 1pm EST at www.ashevillefm.org and be archived for a week at www.ashevillefm.org/the-final-straw .

Check out www.kristianwilliams.com for more information on the interviewee

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Transcription:

TFSR: Thanks so much for being on the air Kristian.

Kristian Williams: Well, thanks for asking me.

TFSR: I would love to have the opportunity to talk for hours on your first book Our Enemies in Blue, but this show is sadly only an hour long. Your book covers the history of policing in the United States with a starting point marked as developing out of slave patrols, rather than the more service-oriented model of the London Watch. Can you elaborate on what this says about the nature of policing and how it’s developed in the United States in terms of class and race?

Kristian Williams: Sure. I should note at the beginning that the history that I put forward is sort of a heretical account. If you go to the community college where you live and take a criminal justice course, on the first day of the criminal justice course they’re probably going to say something about where the police come from. It is not going to be that story. They’re going to tell you the story about the Night Watch, which we inherited from England, which took hold in Boston, and in response to a crime wave, became the modern police. I go into this in much more detail in the book but I find a more credible and more systematized account is running. Attached to slavery there was this militia organization called the slave patrols, in response to periodic crises, fears of slave revolts. Over time the slave patrol went from being an unprofessional, sporadic (I don’t want to say volunteer, because it was more likely you got drafted into it, not for pay, not regular shifts, not that kind of organization) and became a professionalized, regular, broader law enforcement organization. That happened in stages over the course of one hundred or so years, resulting in the first thing I’ve seen that’s identifiable as looking like our modern police force arising in Charleston, South Carolina, right at the end of the 18th century, right at the beginning of the 19th century.

What this says about the police is that from their very inception they were there to control, on the one hand the Black population and on the other hand the labor force. It happened in South Carolina, it was with the same bunch of people. It developed with, specifically, that race and class character in mind. That wasn’t incidental to how we got this modern institution, it was the point. I argue in the book that if you look at how the institutions developed since then, if you look at how the police use their discretion on the street, or even at the level of policy, that really the race and class stratification of the community are still the main driving factors in determining what the police do. That’s in some ways, pretty remarkable. On the other hand, it makes what they do intelligible in a way. If you think about what they do as having something to do with fighting crime or punishing bad guys or something like that, a lot of what they do just makes no sense at all. But if we look at it through these two lenses of race and class, their priorities, their activity, their the decisions they make, suddenly come into focus. That said, I don’t know how different it would have been if they had developed out of the English model and out of the Night Watch. I think we would probably have an institution that looks very different, but given the history of colonialism and given the stratification of our society, and also the society that they were borrowing from, I’m not sure how different it would have been. The fact there are half a dozen cities in England on fire right now because of the police killing people maybe points to some of the similarities.

TFSR: London, Birmingham, Liverpool, and other major cities around England, like you said, are in their fourth day rioting in response to the murder of a Black man, Mark Duggan, by Metro Police. Darcus Howe, a journalist and commentator from Brixton has called the unrest an “insurrection of the masses”. January of 2009 saw nights of burning and looting around San Francisco Bay Area in response to the videotaped police murder of Oscar Grant. For almost a month prior to that, parts of Athens and other cities in Greece and Europe burned in response to police killing of Alexis Grigoropoulos. The banlieues of Paris revolted in 2005, after a young black kid was killed while evading the police. And there’s of course,the videotape beating of Rodney King with the City of Los Angeles rising in rebellion following the verdict, or lack of verdict, against the police. There are tons more incidents that are like those. Individuals maimed or killed by law enforcement in popular rage, rising into a riot or rebellion.

Do you see these responses, like we’re seeing in England and like we’ve seen other parts of the world, as a heightening awareness of the role of police in society by the most downtrodden and affected? Or has this just always been there, and technology is just allowing word to travel faster?

Kristian Williams: I think there have been riots in response to policing for as long as there has been policing. In the generation before the wave of riots you just mentioned (and I’ll mostly just talk about the US here, because that’s what I know about) there were riots in Los Angeles, Detroit, Philadelphia, Boston, San Francisco, in the East Bay. This goes back before the period that we tend to think of as the militant ‘60s. The Detroit riot was I think, in 1963. Before that, there was one in Newark, which I think was in ‘60 or ‘61. All those were set off by some sort of police action. Usually it was killing somebody. Look back at the ‘30s. In 1934 there was an earlier Detroit riot, also set off by police action, and similar things in the teens, going really all the way back to the early 19th century. Rioting has been the tactic of last resort for the lowest stratum of the population. That’s been true since before there were cops. It just happened that the police have an interestingly prominent role in the cycle of unrest. For one thing, they’re the first body that’s responsible for responding to it and putting it down. Often their action in response to it, whatever the initial cause, becomes the target of the rioting. So the things that the cops do, often make the rioting more intense, rather than actually quelling it. The cops themselves become targets as kind of the embodiment of the coercive power of the State. Then it’s also that the police represent the power of the States as they walk around and do their business. That business involving harassing, bullying, brutalizing, sometimes killing people. It’s not surprising that they become the trigger that sets off this whole configuration.

Coming out of the period of the period of writing in the ‘60s, there were several government commissions set up to study them and basically figure out what to do differently to stop that from happening again. The most famous of these was the Kerner Commission. They described the initial incident that sets it off as being typically something that the cops do, but that the context in which it occurs, makes that incident seem representative of the entire system of inequality. What’s important is that the police have acted in some way that seems to perfectly capture the power dynamics of the society. That that then ignites what the Commission referred to as “the reservoir of grievance of the Black community.” So the cops have a very visible role in the unrest cycle, but it ties into concerns about housing, education, concerns about employment, poverty, and the general humiliation of racism. I think that’s been obviously true in the English example, where people are really worried about unemployment and also the imposition of austerity. One place where I think the technology may play a role is that, it used to be that the incident would happen and somebody would see it, and then they would tell somebody else. The word about it spread literally by word of mouth. Now it may be on video, and the symbolism of, for example, the police killing Oscar Grant, or the cops beating Rodney King, can be visually communicated and is more compelling than it may have been previously. Therefore it can also spread faster. So there’s more of a chance for what may have previously been just another incident of the cops killing somebody, to become the trigger for that kind of unrest. The unrest itself is really nothing new.

TFSR: In in your article, “The Other Side of The COIN”, you present your research into discussion and sharing of training and information between law enforcement and military occupational forces of the United States in Iraq and Afghanistan. Can talk about that? Why did you call it the other side of the COIN?

Kristian Williams: This is an article that I wrote for the journal Interface, which is available online. If you go to my website, which is kristianwilliams.com and you look at the tag that says “Articles online”, you will be able to find it there. I called it the other side of the coin and to some degree I’m being punny because “COIN” is military jargon for counterinsurgency. There are really at least three reasons that I called it that. One being that we tend to think about counterinsurgency being something that happens overseas, that it’s done at the frontiers of the empire. I’m suggesting that the other side of that, is that it infects the interior of the Empire as well. Secondly, we tend to think of counterinsurgency as being typified by the hard tactics: the drone attacks, the death squads, the concentration camps, that sort of business. One of the things that I argue (I hope, forcefully) in the essay, is it’s also the legitimacy building sort of nonprofit NGO work and the cooptation and the public relations aspect, and, in terms of policing, the community policing project that is also part of the counterinsurgency dynamic. The third reason is because wars have two sides. It’s pretty clear domestically, that the one side is the police, and they’re pretty clear on who the other side is. The problem is that opposition movements in the US mostly don’t think of themselves as being involved with war against the State. We need to catch up or the State is going to just keep winning.

TFSR: Kristian, can you talk a little bit about community policing? What the term means, and it’s applications? It’s referenced a number of times in “The Other Side of the COIN” that Interface article that you wrote, it’s referenced by the RAND Corporation, it’s referenced, to a degree I believe, by the field manuals that you quote in it. How did that develop and what are the implications of community policing?

Kristian Williams: I’d be glad to talk about that. There is a lot of confusion about community policing in the liberal left. To some degree that’s because the State has done its job well. A lot of well meaning, but in my view naive people, think that community policing is really the thing that we want to be going for and that it means that the police will be part of the community, that they’ll understand our norms and our culture. They will not be this alienating, alienated, occupying force, but will be there to genuinely respond to problems that people in neighborhoods have and that sort of thing. That is definitely the image that the cops want to develop. As it happens, that is not the real agenda. In Our Enemies in Blue, I make this argument that there are two main developments in policing, since the crisis of the ‘60s. Those being community policing and militarization and are actually two halves of a single development, which is the reinvention of the police on a counterinsurgency model.

Some of the reason I said that is, if you look back at the police literature from the period where these changes were taking place- from the 1970’s and the early ‘80s- what you very quickly see is that both of these were driven by the police concern over the unrest of the ‘60s and trying to find ways to head off similar unrest in the years to come. One of the things that they learned about that was that the ‘60s left them suffering a loss of legitimacy. The cops had really been discredited. They had very low social esteem, not a lot of community trust. One of the things that they had learned, was that they needed the cooperation of the public if they were going to do their jobs. Community policing was born out of that insight as a way to gain the cooperation of the public so that they could control social unrest. As it happened, there also community policing and militarization, they didn’t just arise at the same time, in response to the same social situations but they also tended to arise in the same places. The places that were experimenting with the neighborhood watch, the DARE program, community meetings and all that sort of thing- with the same police forces that were introducing SWAT teams, getting helicopters and reorganizing their command structure to be more military-like. The evidence pushed me in that direction.

I was previously familiar with some of the counterinsurgency literature, and I understood that counterinsurgency relied both on having access to overwhelming force and also doing things to build legitimacy for the counterinsurgency force. Meaning, gain popular support, learn to interact with the population in the occupied country and that sort of thing. The parallel to me seemed very stark. That’s the way the evidence led me, that’s what I argued in Our Enemies in Blue. I was really unsure about it at the time. I kind of thought that I may just be a crackpot. Well, it turns out you fast forward a few years, the US invades and then occupies Iraq, General Petraeus, who had written the new US Army field manual on counterinsurgency, gets put in charge of the occupation force. Suddenly, there’s this huge explosion of literature on counterinsurgencies, much of it directed toward giving professional advice to the US Army in Iraq. It turns out that a lot of that literature points to the domestic police in the United States and their community policing programs, as an example of counterinsurgency and how it should be done. On the one hand, I really don’t relish being proved right about this, but on the other hand I’m very relieved in terms of what it says about my analytic skills.

TFSR: Seen not as being a crackpot.

Kristian Williams: It turns out I’m not a crackpot, or at least I’m right, going on a crackpot. The point of community policing is to insinuate the police into the community, for the sake of increasing their power over the community. Specifically for the sake of of neutralizing any possible opposition that may come out of that community.

TFSR: In a way that can be seen in the governmental takeover and presentation of services that came after, the Panther Party, for instance, developed the breakfast programs and the medical clinics where that was lacking. The government’s able to insinuate itself in there and then slowly, after they’ve taken over the program, sort of defund it and take away any teeth.

Kristian Williams: The government taking it over in some ways depoliticizes it. That means that they’ve they take away the thing that the Left had to offer. It also means that they control it, they can put in their agenda. It means that once the threat has abated- the threat in that case being organized Black people with guns- once that’s abated, then they can phase out the services that they were providing. Something similar actually happened with the women’s movement and the development of battered women [domestic abuse] shelters. At the time that was this grassroots, very feminist, very politicized effort. Over the course of 40 years now, the State has largely co-opted it and has used that to tie the protection of women from men who have been violent, to policing in effect, to other men who are violent. The Incite! statement that I was mentioning before was, to some degree, responding to that trajectory and the insinuation of the coercive force of the State into what, at one point, was this radical political program.

TFSR: And the major theme of Incite!’s book, The Revolution Will Not be Funded, right?

Kristian Williams: Yeah. That is one of the ways the repression happens. It doesn’t just happen by them kicking in your door. It also happens by them, sort of channeling, using incentives, including access legitimacy, funding to channel your political action into areas that are safe for the government, where the challenge is to some degree neutralized.

TFSR: I was wondering if you could speak on the efficacy or purpose of civilian review boards. I know a lot of cities have organized around police accountability and helped to bring these in. And to varying degrees, police departments have been helpful in the process or fought against it. But what can you say about your experience with police review boards?

Kristian Williams: Everywhere that I have looked into it, the police have fought it being established until such a point that it became obvious that they were going to lose that fight. At which point they totally got on board for the sake of getting the kind of review board that they wanted. So they typically lose the fight for there not to be a review board and then win the fight of what kind of review board they want. The result being that review boards tend to be relatively powerless, relatively ineffective. In most places they can issue a finding or they can recommend discipline against an officer. They can’t actually discipline him. In most places they can recommend policy changes, but they can’t actually set policy. So the result tends to be that important community figures or prominent activists who would otherwise be in the neighborhoods organizing people, or on the streets causing trouble with the cops, instead are stuck in some boardroom, they’re in City Hall, hearing the seemingly endless testimony about this or that particular incident with the cops for the sake of making some recommendation that will either be taken or ignored. If the point is to waste some time of people who might otherwise be leaders in opposition to the police, civilian review boards do a great job. If the point is to actually hold the police accountable, not so good. Some of that is in the details of how the things were set up, and specifically what the laws say, what the policies are and all that boring bureaucratic crap.

The problem with some of it is that the civilian review board is the wrong tool to address the problem that we have. The reason that we have trouble with the police is not usually that the cops are breaking their own rules, that they’re liars, that they’re individually prejudiced, or any of that. Although all those things are sometimes true, right? The reason we have a problem with the police is because we have a society that’s stratified very sharply in terms of race and class and the job of the cops is to preserve that stratification. There’s not a review board in the world that can do anything about that. That said, if you’re in a city that doesn’t have a review board, organizing to demand a review board can provide a very good avenue to bringing out a lot of the dirty laundry that the cops have, give people an opportunity to articulate what their complaints are, and to some degree build momentum to stake out other positions in a politics against policing. I don’t want to say that it’s never worth pursuing. To some degree, they probably do put some check on the most egregious abuses. But don’t expect too much out of a civilian review board.

TFSR: At the Law and Disorder Conference that happened earlier this year at Portland State University, you gave a presentation on the distinctions between the goals of police accountability organizing and police abolition organizing. Can you elaborate on that presentation?

Kristian Williams: The distinction that I was drawing out was that police accountability organizing suggests that there is some sort of role for the police, and that the what’s needed to address the problems of the institution, involve some reforms, either within the institution, or some sort of external checks and balances. That the police organization is necessary and to some degree legitimate and in principle, salvageable. The abolitionist perspective, on the other hand, suggests that the institution of policing itself is so tied to the inequalities of the society that it operates in, especially those based on race and class, that in the process of eliminating those inequalities, we are also going to need to get rid of this institution of policing and find some other means for ensuring public safety and resolving disputes and handling social conflict. That sort of thing.

In the short term, the way this tends to play out is that police accountability activists pursue reforms in the form of better policies, or different training. The ultimate stage in this is the establishing of a civilian review board, and the hope that with the correct internal and external mechanisms, policing can be done in a humane and fair way. In the short term there’s a real question as to what the abolitionists should be doing. The ultimate aim is to totally change the structure of society and get rid of the course of institutions that we now have. That’s not exactly something that you can plan for next Tuesday. It’s more of a remote goal. The question of what you do to work toward that is a fairly complicated one. The advice that I was giving in the course of that talk, was that this isn’t just a matter of do you pursue reforms, or do you pursue revolution but that actual abolitionists need to engage in reform work, but they need to engage in reform work very carefully and only engage in those reforms that actually do limit the worst abuses and tend to weaken the institution as a whole, reduce police power and shift power toward the community. And not get sucked into working on reforms that are going to strengthen the institution or improve its functioning or prolong its life.

TFSR: In line of alternatives to police, and that being an increasing debate, I saw on the website for Rose City CopWatch that members of that organization (which you volunteer with) have been doing presentations on alternatives to policing, what’s wrong with policing, the whole rotten barrel idea, what community restorative justice models might look like, and what they’ve looked like in different places around the world and you touched on this during the last chapter of Our Enemies in Blue. It seems like there’s an upswing in discussion around the Pacific Northwest and in Portland in particular, between Rose City CopWatch (and I’m sure other projects) and the community alternatives to policing. I Just saw a couple of their pamphlets on the alternatives to policing. How much of that discussion has been the generalized population and the populations that are most affected, like people of color and mostly poor people? How much of it has been a discussion among activists?

Kristian Williams: That’s a really good question, and it’s hard for me to say anything about that definitively. If we take a sort of slightly longer look at this, compare where we are now to where we were 10 or 15 years ago, my impression is that over that amount of time, this discussion has become more publicly articulated. I believe that’s moving from both. On the one hand, there were plenty of radicals (especially anarchists) who, when I started this work in the in the mid ‘90s, thought that we needed to get rid of the police and did not have a very precise idea of what that would mean. That’s part of why in the last chapter of Our Enemies in Blue, I described a couple of places where policing just became impossible in the normal sense because of social conflict. I talked about the movement against apartheid in South Africa and the Community Restorative Justice Project in Northern Ireland. The social movements took on the question of how to address crime. I sketched that out to to some degree, just to show that that people had done something else, and that whatever the problems were, it presented possibilities. The fact that people have done something else implies that we can do something else. At the time, there was really very little in the sort of social movement literature about that. The people who looked at those particular conflicts knew a little bit about it but there weren’t stories about alternatives to police and experiments in restorative justice circulating in the activist milieu overall. In the ten years since then that’s really changed.

Similarly, in the communities where the police are most present and most abusive- in particular, those are poor communities and among people of color- it’s not news to them that the cops are a problem. It’s not a new idea for them, that if there’s something else that you can do instead, that you should probably do that instead of calling the police. There have been some very informal, some more formal, organic responses to crime and interpersonal conflict and all that sort of thing in those communities, I think, always. They haven’t generally been formal or permanent arrangements, they haven’t usually been attached to a political project. That said, one thing that I’ve seen very recently in Portland, is that discussion has taken a more systematic bent and it has also, to some degree entered into the mainstream discourse more. The best example that I know of is there’s a newspaper here in Portland called The Scanner, which I believe is the largest Black newspaper in the state. It ran an editorial a little more than a year ago after the this very tragic incident in which this African American family called the police because they were worried that this young man, Aaron Campbell, was distraught and was considering suicide. Campbell wasn’t a criminal suspect, and he wasn’t a danger to anybody other than himself. The police showed up with the SWAT team and ordered him out of his apartment, and as he was attempting to comply with their orders, one of the snipers on the SWAT team shot him and killed him. The Scanner ran an editorial saying very upfront that it’s not safe for Black people to call the police. Everyone can see why the Campbell family would do that, everybody could understand the pressures that they were under. But in the scope of things, the Black community needed to find a different way of making sure members of that community are safe, because the police cannot be trusted to do it. Now, I doubt that was much of a surprise to the readership of that newspaper, the target audience, but it was in the newspaper, and it was something that other newspapers then picked up on. To some degree, the editorial became itself a matter of controversy. There was a lot of talk in the media about the fact that this point had been made in print. Again, I don’t think it was a new point to the Black population, but I think that it’s showing up in print changed the conversation in the larger more mainstream media.

TFSR: Can you speak a little bit to how the dialog, or the difference between abolitionism and accountability has become more clear among organizers around policing issues in the Pacific Northwest. Over the last year, I’ve at least found references that in Portland there being a number of marches last year in direct response to killings by police. In Olympia, April of last year, August of last year in Seattle, after John T Williams was killed, throughout the first half of February. In March and in July, after a house party was raided by police and people were beaten and hospitalized. Is this a new period in organizing against the police? Is the idea of abolitionism becoming more prominent, or is it just that abolitionists, often politically radical or anarchist people, are becoming more vocal, and maybe drawing from Greece and drawing from other examples where police brutality has led to an escalation? From LA in 92 or any of these other examples? Do you feel like it’s changing or are people becoming more vocal?

Kristian Williams: I think there’s some of both. There’s the two tendencies build on each other, but they have some different causes. On the one hand, looking back 10 or 15 years ago, there were definitely people who we would now call police abolitionists, and they were doing various kinds of anti-cop organizing. Then, they were, to some degree, inside and obscured by the police accountability movement. There was not a distinctly abolitionist position, either within or separate from the police accountability work. So there were people who individually thought that we needed to get rid of the cops, but lacking other avenues for doing that, became involved in accountability work. That’s largely reflective of my own experience. In any case, one of the things that changed and also one of the things that really puts the need to find alternatives on the left wing activist radar, was the creation of Critical Resistance, which is a prison abolition organization, in I think ‘98. They really staked out this bold position about getting rid of the prison-industrial complex top to bottom. There were a lot of really smart organizers involved in that, there were a lot of really credible intellectuals involved in that. They really staked out that position, and they did it in a way that was credible and legitimate seeming, and that people took seriously. That opened up space within the area of people who were mostly concerned about police, to do some of the same things and to stake out a police abolition position and to build on some of that work. Critical Resistance also put out a statement with Incite!…

TFSR: Which is Women of Colour Against Violence, right?

Kristian Williams: Yes, thank you. They were arguing that, on the one hand, people who are working in violence against women, need to take the violence of the criminal justice system seriously and do something about that. On the other hand, people who are fighting the criminal justice system need to start creating alternatives in order to address violence in their communities. I think that really served to motivate a lot of people to do some serious thinking about those questions. At the same time, I think that some of what we’re seeing is that there’s been an increase in specifically anarchist organizing and of anarchist political activity, especially in the Northwest. Some of that is building off of…not even so much the occurrence of the WTO protests in Seattle, but the memory of the WTO protests in Seattle. So one of the things that that helped develop, was a distinctly anarchist area of political action, to some degree, autonomous from the rest of the Left. One of the places that anarchists distinguish themselves, to some degree mistakenly, from the rest of the Left is claiming a monopoly on the police abolitionist or prison abolitionist point of view. When there’s already an uptick in controversy around the police, it makes sense that will build on this developing anarchist milieu, and we’ll see an increase in activity in that area as well. Some of it is specific to the issue of policing, and some of it is a more general increase in anarchist activity.

TFSR: Within the Left, what other groupings are not necessarily taking an anti-police perspective- as in police upholding this system that we live under, and that Leftists are going to agree is a horrible system- but actually proposing alternatives and direct resistance to those institutions. What tendencies are there?

Kristian Williams: Besides anarchism? The two places that I have seen that coming from, I have already mentioned one, being the position represented by Critical Resistance. I’m sure that there are anarchists involved in Critical Resistance, but many of the luminaries of that organization, and many of the people who were involved in the founding of it, are definitely not anarchists. One of the people who is most cited in terms of talking about prison abolition is Angela Davis, who was a longtime member of the Communist Party and is definitely not an anarchist. The other being the kind of feminism that is represented by Incite! and their work on ending violence against women and children, and them taking seriously the fact that the State is also a perpetrator of that kind of violence. Again, I’m sure that there are anarchists involved with Incite! as well, but it is not…

TFSR: … an explicitly an anarchist organizations, or organizing models.

Kristian Williams: And if you look at the rhetoric, culture and theory of an organization like Incite! and you look at the rhetoric and the culture and the theory of the kind of anarchist milieu engaging this, they’re obviously very different. There are probably other places on the left as well that are putting forward ideas about that either I don’t know about or aren’t coming to mind off the top of my head.

TFSR: Well, Bring the Ruckus for a while was organizing around forming CopWatches and Anarchist Black Cross type organizations like prisoner support groups around the country. That was a lot of Trotskyists as well as anarchists and radical left folks, is that right?

Kristian Williams: Yes and actually, I’m a little bit embarrassed that didn’t occur to me sooner. But BTR has been doing work around that to some degree here, but to a large degree in the Bay Area. Their position was a little bit harder to nail down, but they’re definitely some sort of libertarian left cadre organization. Which is distinct from the sort of anarchist milieu that I was describing a minute ago, and also very different from the Critical Resistance perspective that I was talking about.

TFSR: Kristian, could you speak briefly about another recent article you’ve written called Profiles Of Provocateurs about the FBI infiltrating radical communities, in particular anarchist communities?

Kristian Williams: This is an article that I posted on a handful of internet sites, and got reposted other places. I was moved to write it because I read an article in The Stranger, which is the alternative weekly in Seattle, about this. In particular, I’m looking at not just snitches but provocateurs, meaning people who actually create criminal activity (for the sake of setting people up) in the service to some government agency instead of telling them about crimes that are happening. In particular, I was looking at when this was done targeting anarchists. There was an article in The Stranger about this guy who got involved in this after-hours party scene with the idea that he was going to insinuate himself into this cultural niche, and from there, be able to find people who are involved in the Earth Liberation Front. In the course of that he totally failed at that mission, but he did manage to set a bunch of people up for illegal gambling charges and he managed to set one guy up on a drug bust. Reading the article, the thing that struck me was that he exhibited any number of behaviors that, whether or not he was a cop, people really just shouldn’t been putting up with. At the same time there were any number of sketchy-seeming details that the people that he set up had commented on but that nobody had bothered to follow up on. Like at one point, somebody went to his apartment and they went to the bathroom and there was just nothing in the bathroom, no soap, no towels, no toothbrush. Which is pretty odd.

This got me thinking about some of the other cases that I heard about, in particular the Brandon Darby case. He helped set up a couple much younger activists on fire bomb charges related to the Republican National Convention in 2008. As well as the woman known as Anna, who helped set up Eric McDavid and a couple other people. Basically Anna, on the FBI’s behalf, while being on their payroll, created an ELF style cell and created a plan to blow up a dam, and then brought in the FBI to to put her co-conspirators in prison. In the course of the article I try to point out some of the commonalities that these people exhibited. The main one is that they preyed upon people who felt like they had something to prove. They basically bullied them into doing things (which I think most people looking at it from the outside would have to say, whatever your politics are) were just bad ideas.

TFSR: So, Kristian, what’s coming up?

Kristian Williams: I have a couple pieces that I’ve been working on this summer that should be announced in the next month or so. One of them is a piece for In These Times about a couple of the police killings here in Portland, that have happened in the last several years. I don’t want to give away too much here, but the argument that I make is that we can see some of the class and race dynamics playing themselves out in these cases. What they reflect are efforts for the police to exclude people that are considered undesirable, in particular, poor people and people of color, from some of the commercial areas and that the police are doing that in direct response to the agenda of the Portland Chamber of Commerce, which is called the Portland Business Alliance. So that will be in In These Times. I think it comes out the first week of September. Also coming out right around Labor Day, Dollars and Sense will be running an article that I wrote about the labor unrest in Wisconsin earlier this year, and the cops role in both supporting and repressing the unions there. I compare that to other historical cases in which the cops have slipped out of their usual repressive function and have in some way or another, aided the struggle of workers. That’s what I have on the agenda for the next few weeks.

TFSR: We’ve been speaking with Kristian Williams, author and activist out of Portland, Oregon. Thank you so much for taking the time to speak.

Kristian Williams: Thanks for having me on. Anytime.