Author: Slingshot Collective

It’s 2008 now, and as we mark one decade of anarchist resistance to I-69, it’s clear that we’re entering the critical moment. We’ve always believed that we can defeat I-69, but if we’re to stop this road, we have to do it now.

I-69, an interstate highway that currently runs from Port Huron, Michigan to Indianapolis, Indiana, has been facing a fifteen-year battle to expand in Indiana. According to overall plans for the highway, it would eventually run from the Canadian border at Port Huron, through Michigan, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Louisiana, before ending in Laredo, Texas. At the US-Mexico border, I-69 is designed to connect to a network of highways, railroads, and other infrastructure projects being built as part of Plan Puebla Panama (PPP) to enable increased trade between Canada, the USA and Latin America. However, the highway has never been completed, in large part due to widespread opposition to its construction in Indiana.

In Indiana, the highway would run from Evansville to Indianapolis along a 142-mile route. That route — the majority of which is “new terrain” and not built over an existing road– would cut through farmland and a wildlife preserve while paving some 5,000 acres of farmland, 1,500 acres of forest, and 3,000 acres of wetlands. The highway is expected to evict 400 families, a few of whom have already signed contracts giving up their homes and lands under the threat of their land being seized by eminent domain.

Construction in Indiana is almost certainly set to begin late in the spring or early in the summer of this year. Over the course of 2007, construction on its connector roads in Latin America has continued or intensified, as has repression against those resisting it, while Canadian multinationals have begun considering investments in sections of I-69 in the American South. The Indiana Department of Transportation began evictions in earnest last summer, though the vast majority of families threatened by the road in Indiana are still on their land.

We are now confronted with a choice. We can organize to take a strong symbolic stand against all of this, to let the world know that what I-69 represents is wrong.

Or we can ask ourselves: What will it take to really stop this highway? And then act according to the answers we develop together, in our communities and in our affinity groups.

Because as I-69 comes closer to becoming a reality — as all the multinationals and other vultures line up to profit from the devastation — it can seem like the highway juggernaut is unstoppable. In reality, as it approaches this phase, it is more vulnerable than ever. Opposition has been building for a long while. All of the assembling bidders can still be scared off, and for the first time, there will be “progress” on the ground. If we choose to, we can impose a crisis on this entire project, an opportunity we don’t often have.

An invitation stands to develop your own autonomous and creative contributions to stopping I-69, or to participate in the collective organizing process initiated by Roadblock Earth First! (among others) at last September’s consulta in Evansville, Indiana. In either case, we recommend forming an affinity group with those you know and trust; getting to know the land, the history of the struggle, and the communities directly affected. And know that whatever path you choose, now’s the time to prepare for action.

Over the last decade, eco-radicals have worked hard to prepare the ground for this moment by building bridges between radicals and residents affected by the highway. The campaign against I-69 has used a variety of tactics to cultivate these connections, among them a “listening project” that allows for dialogue between radicals and others, a bike tour through the area that would be affected by I-69, and “road shows” along the route of I-69.

While resistance to I-69 has been strong for the past fifteen years, direct action tactics have become more common since 2005. That year resistance to the project increased, with a “Roadless Summer” campaign that focused on a variety of private companies including firms funding the project and Indiana Department of Transportation (INDOT).

INDOT has admitted that they lack full funding for the project. This lack of funding is a key weakness that can be exploited by radicals organizing against I-69. With an estimated cost of $4.5 billion dollars but only $700 million to fund the road actually on hand, the state of Indiana has turned to unpopular measures to try to fund the road including privatizing it and making it a toll road. Anything that makes the project even more expensive makes its completion more difficult and unlikely — especially as government budgets now face recession-related cuts. Early disruptions in the construction process will throw a huge monkey wrench into the works. If I-69 can be stopped in Indiana, it could kill the whole project since many states are waiting to see how construction in Indiana proceeds.

With the very climate of the earth hanging in the balance, now isn’t the time to let the state and the multinationals sink billions of dollars into even-more highways to move ever more global trade.

For more info, check out stopi69.wordpress.com, earthfirstjournal.org or rootforce.org. Or write to roadblockef@yahoo.com to learn about organizing in your area.

Folks around the world are preparing for diverse, decentralized, absurdist direct actions on Leap Day — Friday, February 29, 2008 — taking seriously the call to use our extra day to smash capitalism, patriarchy and the state. In the Bay Area, Leap Day Action Night will start at critical mass at 6 p.m. in Justin Herman Plaza near Embarcadero BART in San Francisco. The bikes will ride round and round — where the action happens — and what oppressive institutions it targets — no one will know . . . until the water balloons filled with lube begin to fly and the clowns playing flaming brass instruments arrive.

People around the world have been talking with their friends, forming affinity groups and preparing to disrupt business as usual. Leap day is an extra day — a blank slate waiting to be transformed into a spontaneous, inspirational rebellion against the corporations and institutions that are destroying the earth and transforming the amazing experience of being alive into a drag filled with rent, stupid jobs, boring suburbs and polluted freeways.

Every four years in the USA brings another ridiculous Election Year when the system tries to channel everyone’s growing dissatisfaction with the ways we’re getting screwed into a spectacular distraction. Candidates all promise *Change* and the media plays dramatic music while endlessly trumpeting the election process circus to convince you that if only you vote for the right person, if only you buy the right product, if only you drive the right car or starve yourself so you have the right body, everything will be okay, afte rall. And somehow everyone forgets the betrayal of the last election year — forgets that the media and corporations and politicians offering the change are the same ones who created the whole mess in the first place. And the real issues — why is everyone working to make these jokers richer and richer and why are the forests and rivers we used to play in when we were young getting torn up to build another parking lot for another fucking Wal-Mart? — no one talks about the real issues during election year.

Luckily, every four years also brings Leap Day Action Night! Leap day offers an opportunity to go beyond protest — merely decrying what we’re against — and focus on living life in a positive, creative, loving, cooperative, sustainable fashion without domination of others or the earth.

Leap Day Action is not being organized by anyone and yet it will happen in cities and towns everywhere because — without asking permission and without boring meetings, email lists or moldy coalitions — people will act on leap day. At night. The key is a wild brainstorm to figure out what we haven’t tried yet — because all the stuff we’ve been trying hasn’t worked yet. What tactics are too risky or too laughable? Those are precisely the ones that just might be the key to a memorable leap day.

Life can be transformed from dull and ordinary at the most unexpected moments. The January critical mass bike ride in Berkeley was proceeding normally — no cops around, no edgy anger in the air — when suddenly, someone noticed a huge hole in the chainlink fence between the frontage road we were riding on and the 10 lane wide Interstate 80 Freeway. Suddenly, the hum drum of the predictable shattered and bikes were streaming onto the freeway — how many lanes could we shut down? One lane . . . two lanes . . . three lanes. Cars swerving, horns honking. And then we rode, bike lights blinking. And 5 minutes later, we were taking an exit and escaping into the dark — still no police, no tickets — just a brief vision of liberation and resistance!

On LD8, our lives will shift from talking about freedom and liberation to living chaos in real time — getting back to the roots of rebellion instead of running our activist efforts like we’re trying to replicate the computerized, bureaucratic structures of “the man”!

How do you want to spend your Friday Night? What props and costumes and maps of targets and flyers describing a new world will you bring along? In the Bay Area, meet us at San Francisco critical mass bike ride. Everywhere else, organize your own leap day. Leap for it!

Check www.leapdayaction.org for info. To get free 17 X 23 inch Leap Day Action Night posters with a space to write your event, email leapdayaction@gmail.com or write LD8, c/o Slingshot, 3124 Shattuck Ave, Berkeley, CA 94705.

In the San Francisco Bay Area: gather at San Francisco critical mass bike ride (Justin Herman Plaza near Embarcadero BART 6 pm) and ride with the mass to the undisclosed location of a leap day action starting at about 8 p.m. Bring costumes, decorations, refreshments, drinks, games, musical instruments, art supplies, dancing shoes, fliers, gossip, your friends, sports equipment, skateboards, puppets, stilts, frisbees, unicycles, toys, pogo sticks, juggling clubs, funny hats, skipping ropes, kites, banners and your dreams & desires for a different reality. Think the unthinkable – demand the impossible! Use your extra day to smash capitalism, patriarchy and the state.

The latest threat to People’s Park in Berkeley — a living testament to the struggle to reclaim land and the dream of sharing it in common — comes in the form of University of California sponspored proposals to “re-design” the park. To defend the park, we need to go to the meetings of the university-appointed advisory board, and we need to be proactive about creating community based process.

People’s Park has always relied on “user-development” — the process of those who use the park collectively deciding what should be done, and then doing it. In 1969, the Park was created spontaneously and without permission. Much in the spirit of Brazil’s Landless Workers’ Movement, People’s Park has been a 39 year experiment in tending gardens, feeding one another, building and keeping up tables and benches, the free clothes rock, the free-speech stage, and providing community. The concept of paid contract workers implementing a design by “experts” that was commissioned by bureaucrats is completely against the nature and unique value of People’s Park.

In a recent Orwellian twist, the design architects hired by UC Berkeley published a report declaring that People’s Park was under-utilized and lacked diversity. In fact, People’s Park has more users per area than probably any other Berkeley park and is arguably one of the more diverse places on Earth. What “lack of diversity” meant in their report was that some well-off, white, “nice” people don’t feel comfortable using the Park.

The semantics of the debate on People’s Park are carefully couched in politically correct wording, seldom using words like “class”, “race”, or “gentrification”. Instead it is worded as issues of “comfort” and “safety”. What’s really going down is that the Park has become a sanctuary for people who are increasingly marginalized. Skyrocketing rents, closed psychiatric wards and spinning times have left many homeless and unwelcome in other parts of the city. It’s challenging all right. In the face of all this, the Park has provided a remarkable service — giving tangible, physical support and more subtly providing a scattered, yet real web of community for those most in need.

Unfortunately this creates a place that is understandably “uncomfortable” to those who are used to more predictable and controlled environments. One is likely to find folks talking to themselves, partying or hustling a few bucks.

Meanwhile the population of both the City of Berkeley and the University of California students has been getting richer and whiter. “Compassion burnout” is exhibited in recent Berkeley anti-homeless legislation and a San Francisco Chronicle columnist spewing homeless hate on the front page. The University, neighbors and rich hill folks would like to see it “cleaned up.” So here we are, the soul of Berkeley and People’s Park teetering in history.

The Park has its problems. The Park is not the cause of these problems. One should look toward economic structures and social dynamics for the cause. In fact, the Park alleviates the symptoms. I shudder to imagine Telegraph Ave. in Berkeley without the Park. The green space and singing birds and freedom is the breath of soul all us city dwellers need.

Of course the common goal is to have the Park inviting and nurturing for all. The challenge is to create this. That is not the same as removing people who make others, who have to witness their difference or suffering, uncomfortable. Instead we should focus on creating an active, diverse and healthy place. Dilute the problems with the solution.

And since People’s Park is a do-it-yourself kind of place, it is upon all of us to make it more how we dream it could be. If folks would like to see more neighbors’ picnics, well bring your neighbors and some food and blankets. There have been great ideas lately of activities for the Park including Tai Chi classes, art shows, movie nights, tea parties, theater, beer-fest etc. Organize an activity! Come to the Park, enjoy it, share music, food, conversation, sun, chess, Frisbee, gardening. People’s Park is yours, believe in the dream of sharing.

A member at the last People’s Park Advisory Board actually passed a proposal for a design “competition”. People’s Park is about cooperation not competition.

If you care about the Park, please come out in support of it now. We are planning a “Quest for Common Ground” process to vision the park in the spirit of cooperation. There will be visioning activities on Sunday Mar 30 (April 6 rain date) and on the Anniversary, Sunday April 27, in the Park.

UC advisory board meetings are on the first monday of each month at 7 pm at 2362 Bancroft Way in Berkeley. Check www.peoplespark.org for the UC architects’ proposal and updates. Please get involved in these processes soon to add our generation’s contribution to this unique legacy.

Viewed by many as one of the few Manhattan neighborhoods that is not yet completely gentrified, East Harlem — or El Barrio — has been the target of landlords, business owners, and corporate conglomerates who are eager to profit. Movement for Justice in El Barrio has been resisting attempts to push people out of their homes.

For nearly three years, the Movimiento por Justicia del Barrio (MJB) has been fighting gentrification in East Harlem, organizing one building at a time for better housing conditions. Two years ago, they connected their local struggle to struggles worldwide when they joined the Zapatistas’ Otro Campaña (Other Campaign). Since then, they have continued building a grassroots movement in their own neighborhood while articulating a broader struggle against neoliberalism.

The group recently held a presentation at the CUNY Graduate Center in Manhattan. Member Oscar Dominguez began the presentation by providing a background of The Sixth Declaration of the Lacondon Jungle, released by The Zapatistas in June 2005, which identifies capitalism and neoliberalism as the root of many problems facing oppressed groups today. Said Dominguez: “The capitalist system forces people to migrate to other countries.”

Dominguez went on to describe how The Sixth Declaration condemns capitalism for robbing people, destroying cultures, and displacing communities.

Ana Laura Merino then introduced The Other Campaign, a two-tiered campaign that developed from the ideas of The Sixth Declaration. Dedicated to autonomy and direct democracy, The Other Campaign addresses “the need to change Mexico and create a new one,” said Merino.

The campaign involves the Zapatistas working in solidarity with other Mexicans to identify the needs of various communities and determine how to move forward. During the first stage of the campaign, Subcomandante Marcos traveled throughout the 32 Mexican states to listen to people’s problems and take detailed notes. The second stage is currently being implemented as Zapatista delegates travel throughout the country and listen to how people want to overcome these problems.

Due to immigration law, most MJB members were not able to attend the two meetings held in Juarez, Chihuahua, for Mexican immigrants living in the U.S., so instead, they made a video message which MJB member Juan Haro presented in Juarez.

The video, entitled “Message to the Zapatistas,” featured interviews of Mexican immigrants living in El Barrio. They told stories of being forced to leave Mexico due to extreme poverty and having to leave behind their homes and families to find a better life in the US. They also described the problems they faced in the US, such as racial discrimination, low-paying jobs, and poor housing conditions. Lastly, they gave messages of support to The Other Campaign, expressing their hopes of creating a better Mexico and someday returning to their homes and loved ones. “We believe if Mexico changes we can return to our country of origin,” said Dominguez.

Throughout the presentation, MJB members emphasized the importance of autonomous and inclusive organizing, in which the people make decisions for themselves. They frequently brought up the struggles of women, poor people, people of color, lesbians, gays, and transgendered people, noting that it is the most marginalized people who are most hurt by neoliberalism. Haro discussed the importance of connecting these issues so that marginalized groups can come together under “one broad struggle.”

Georgina Quiroz spoke specifically about the repression of women. Quiroz brought to light the unsettling fact that women and their bodies often become collateral in times of political repression. For example, in the Mexican city of Atenco — which has been a hotbed of state repression and civil unrest — sexual assault against women has been frequent. Quiroz ended her talk about women by announcing an upcoming international ecuentro for women. Hosted by the Zapatistas, the encuentro, or gathering, took place on December 27th in Chiapas.

The night ended with Haro sharing a recent victory and next steps. Haro explained how MJB successfully forced millionaire and ruthless gentrifier Steven Kessner to sell the 47 buildings he owned in El Barrio. Shortly after Kessner left town, the buildings were bought up by a multinational corporation based in London called Dawnay, Day Group. Dawnay, Day has since instigated dirty and illegal tactics to force long-term residents to leave their homes. MJB is planning a trip to London to confront the company at their headquarters.

As Movement for Justice in El Barrio continues to organize, the group is helping people better their housing conditions in El Barrio while waging a broader struggle for liberty, justice, and democracy around the world.

The Marine Corps opened a recruiting station in downtown Berkeley in January 2007. In September, when they discovered it, CODE PINK and Women In Black responded with protests. Since then, protesters outside the office have hardly given the marines a moment’s respite. By the time recruiters go for a brisk morning jog with ROTC students from UCB, the activists are settled in to start the day for peace by reading and meditating. Throughout the week, the curb in front of the recruiting offices becomes a venue for a variety of efforts to disrupt the recruiting and, ultimately, to drive the marines out of Berkeley. Protest singing, dancing, Tai Chi, yoga, breastfeeding mothers, kiss-ins, and photographic portraits for peace are some of the motley tactics Code Pink uses to keep the action lively. Guerrilla theater actions included a symbolic street cleansing (to wash the marines right out of Berkeley and the blood off residents’ hands), and a New Year’s Day dumping of manure outside the recruiting center.

After being recruited to sing one January afternoon with the women of Code Pink, I sat down in a plastic pink lawn chair in the street and lazily waved a sign saying “You can’t go to school in a body bag.” Behind me a bold pink banner was unfurled and a woman dressed in a marine core uniform played possum on the pavement. Potted orchids, gory photos of war victims, and cardboard sculptures littered the sidewalk in front of the station. A conversation about the horrible suicide rates among vets led to a brainstorm about giving out scholarships and jobs in front of recruiting centers. I put out my cigarette when Linda Maio and Max Anderson walked up to the picket. These two Berkeley City Council members gave stump speeches urging the protesters to keep the banner high.

Recruiters think they’ve got trouble reaching quotas already – imagine protests like this one spreading across the country. The open ended protest invites everyone who walks by to participate and add new layers of creativity and resistance. The palpable reality on the street leaves no room for the recruiter to paint his lurid picture of hope and glory in boldfaced lies. Hats off to recruiting protesters keeping the opposition to the war in our faces.

You can join them every weekday 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. at the Marine Recruiting Station, 48 Shattuck Square, Berkeley, CA. Call CODE PINK 510-524-2776 for information.

When a cargo ship ran into the San Francisco Bay Bridge November 7, spilling 58,000 gallons of heavy bunker fuel oil into the bay, millions of Bay Area residents who love the bay ecosystem reacted with immediate horror. If you live in the Bay Area, you feel strangely connected with nature through your proximity to the remaining natural aspects of the bay — the shore, the birds living there, plants on the rocks, some fish — even while you dwell in a densely populated urban area covered in concrete. Hearing about an oil spill or industrial pollution in the bay feels personal.

In the wake of the oil spill, everyone expected some kind of dramatic Response — massive efforts to clean up the oil and save wildlife. In these situations, you figure the government is going to Do Something. But recalling government bungling of the response to hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, it quickly became obvious that the government was the problem, not the solution, in the wake of the oil spill.

The oil spill was on Tuesday. Government officials immediately sealed off access to beaches for miles and miles around the bay and warned citizens not to go there. On Saturday after the spill, I happened to bike down to the Berkeley Marina — figuring I wouldn’t be able to get near the water — but I decided I wanted to get as close as I could to see what an oil spill looked like. I figured I would see officials out cleaning the oil and I might see some dead or dying birds.

When I got there, there were signs posted saying that the beach was “closed” but lots of people on the beach by the bike path that goes along Interstate-80 between the Berkeley marina and Emeryville. I didn’t see any oil on the beach from the bike path and I didn’t see any cops around so I walked down to the water.

I had never seen an oil spill before. In fact, there was oil all over the beach and rocks but not a constant sheet – it was in globs between 1/2 an inch across and up to 6 inches across. I didn’t see much oil in the water itself. The oil was black and the consistency of tar. Some was on the sand and some was on the rocks.

I realized that about half of the other people on the beach were cleaning up the oil. At first I figured they were government workers or “official” volunteers but I quickly realized that they had just been drawn to the water to clean up without any official approval or organization. They had plastic bags, kitty litter scraper shovels, rubber gloves and buckets. It wasn’t one group — just a collective, un-organized, individual need to do something. I hadn’t intended to do any cleanup but I immediately realized I wanted to pitch in and so I asked someone who was already cleaning what I should do. He explained how it worked. I found some plastic bags and started picking up oil.

It turns out that when the oil globs are on the sand, you can just roll them up in the sand and put them in your bag without getting it on your hands at all. When it had gotten on the rocks, it looked almost impossible to get off — I left that to others with better technology. I picked up maybe 5 lbs. of oil globs from the sand (plus some other trash) in just a few minutes. With the number of people on that particular beach, it looked like we would get pretty much all the oil on the sand, but none of the oil on the rocks. Most of the shore in that area only has rocks — no sand.

It was really a horrible scene — seeing the beach so dirty and realizing how nasty the oil was and that the entire edge of the bay might look like that for miles — but I found the outpouring of un-organized public energy inspiring. When I biked a mile north to the Berkeley Marina, the police had sealed off the area and were telling the many would-be volunteers who had spontaneously showed up to go home and not go near the oil. I only saw one person in an orange vest doing any clean up there — this is over a vast area. There were tons of cars and trucks with supervisors and bureaucrats, plus lots of cops. That was in contrast to dozens of people actually cleaning the other beach (which wasn’t protected by the police.) I later got an email from a friend saying that 1,000 volunteers showed up to an event in Marin county where people were told to go to volunteer but the authorities were so overwhelmed that they told everyone to go home.

So the reality was that tons of regular people wanted to do something and there was clearly a lot of work to be done, but the government was doing everything it could to stand in their way.

Why did the government spend so much time and energy working to prevent people from dealing with the oil spill while the government wasn’t spending any energy actually cleaning up the spill? Because the government’s main interest is in control of the population — enforcing passivity and preventing spontaneous, independent citizen organization to deal with problems. If people are permitted to organize and solve problems themselves, they’ll realize they don’t need the government or the corporations that control the government. The government’s first job is to justify its own existence.

The government’s eventual response, many days after the initial spill and after they had prevented the public from dealing with the spill themselves, was to bring in corporate clean-up crews — Mexican-American workers, probably poorly paid, doing the same type of work I saw people doing on the beach spontaneously and independently.

The government kept emphasizing how dangerous the oil was and how regular people had to stay away from it for health reasons. Sure the oil was nasty — but how many nasty chemicals (like your average gas station which millions of people visit every day) does the government try to convince us are no big deal?

After the spill, the mainstream press was filled with expressions of outrage blaming the ship operators or its crew for the disaster. But all of this missed the real causes of the spill. Global capitalism involves massive ship traffic around the world to sustain consumerism and enrich corporate interests. Inevitably, oil spills happen with all this commerce. The oil spill — from the government/corporate point of view — is really an acceptable, ecological cost of doing business. Oil spills can’t be viewed as isolated disasters, but must be viewed as another symptom of the capitalist assault on earth to bring a few people in developed areas more acres of plastic crap, along with global warming, deforestation, etc.

Seeing people spontaneously out on the beach self-organizing the clean-up shows that people could get together on a larger scale — to address the root problems. When will we get together to build local economies so we don’t need ships crossing the oceans to bring corporate crap? When will we get together to find energy sources that aren’t toxic and oil based? When will we organize structures to replace the control and management of the government with participation, cooperation, and direct, un-mediated engagement with our lives?

A recession or even a depression does not mean the end of the economy as such, anymore than the death of a president means the end of presidency. The boom/bust cycle is integral to capitalism and that cycle will continue regardless of whether or not there are people calling for an end to capitalism. The only question for anarchists is how to best take advantage of this inevitability.

The US economy is slowing down considerably right now and everyone’s talking about it. Whether or not it will officially go into “recession” is a subject of debate, but it certainly seems more likely today than it did a year ago.

We must look for the ways to make the most of the opportunities created by the periodic cycles of capitalism. Concretely, this means that an economic downturn should be scoured for opportunities to create anarchy, build networks of solidarity, and put forth an analysis of the forces that are mutilating peoples’ lives. To put it succinctly: direct action, mutual aid, and communication.

Economic downturns create new material realities as capitalism becomes temporarily incapable of providing for segments of the population that were previously integrated into the system. Finding ways to meet material needs for ourselves and those around us with an eye towards expanding relationships of mutual aid beyond the confines of temporary economic hardship can become a large-scale challenge for anarchists during a recession. I emphasize the word “ourselves” because an economic downturn would not just affect other people in other places but would also create real hardships for many radicals, even those at the extreme margins of the capitalist economy. This challenge can be in a myriad of ways, depending on how far the economy falls.

Take, for example, organized theft, as happens in a bread riot. Theft can serve as a means of meeting material needs, it can target specific corporations for damage, and it can illustrate the absurdity of abundance in the face of unmet needs. That’s just one example; direct action does not have to meet an immediate material need to be effective, nor do tactics for economic survivalism need to take the form of illegal direct action. The point is to respond to changing circumstances by applying our creativity and analysis to a situation created largely outside of our control.

Are the opportunities for action presented by economic downturn themselves different than at other times, or just their effects? I’d say both. There is a point when differences in degree become differences in kind. Certainly organized theft is appropriate in both boom times and bust, but the meaning of the action changes with the context thus changing the action itself. Every action has multiple aspects, which can be reduced to intent, perception, and effect. The effect of organized theft may remain similar (goods are stolen, although the exact effect of this can vary dramatically), but the intent can change entirely (meeting the needs of others rather than ourselves, for example) and so can the perception, depending on how the action is percieved (most of which is beyond the immediate control of the actors). So in a way, yes the impact has changed more than the act itself, but the act itself and the reasons for it can be completely different.

It’s important to remember that a recession, or any other historical event for that matter, has no inherent meaning. A recession could be an opportunity to turn away from the status quo, but it could just as easily (and usually does) lead to a greater reliance on the system that produces it. The ‘problem’ is blamed variously on incompetent politicians, greedy bankers, or clueless bureaucrats, which leads to the assumption that with better people in charge, such problems would not occur. To veer into the theoretical, the contradictions in history do not create themselves; they are made by people and if we want them to become critical we must make them so by our own actions.

Since I want to encourage everyone to take advantage of whatever unique opportunities are presented by recession, I offer the following broad questions to ask one’s self when thinking about organized responses to a recession, or during the planning of an action. What exactly is the outcome you desire? Does the action you’re planning rely on local information i.e. something that is known because of a unique position)? Will the context allow it to achieve its maximum impact? Are you making an effort to shape the perception of the action as much as is reasonably possible? If you answered ‘no’ to any of these question, tweak your plan and start from the top until you answer ‘yes’ to all of them. If you do that, by necessity, you will come up with a unique plan.

Lobsterbeard contributes to the Center for Strategic Anarchy, (http://anarchiststrategy.blogspot.com), a site of anarchist analysis of contemporary events.

The Kuala Lumpur Food Not Bombs– serving once a week for only about a year now– was still enough inspiration for visitors from nearby Bangkok to return home and start one themselves. I checked them out as well while visiting Malaysia and was impressed by the activity going on around them. A year of unexpected protests in 2007 hit this Muslim country near the equator. The protests are not welcomed despite the establishment’s claim that the country is a democracy. Yet 2008 promises a dramatic unraveling that will put the ball in people’s hands to create effective change in the streets as the state goes through spasms trying to maintain their legacy of inequalities.

In 1957, the British relinquished control of colonial Malay, but their influence remained. This may be a surface level boon for the traveler limping along with the English language, readily used by the diverse populace of Malay Muslims, Chinese and immigrant Hindus. But other methods of suppression and race separation the great British empire practiced are continued by the government today. Though the country recently celebrated its 50 years of Merdeka (liberty), the government has not rescinded the nefarious Internal Security Act (ISA) which Americans would recognize as similar to the PATRIOT Act.

The ISA rationalizes the police grabbing any person, foreign or domestic, under the pretense of preserving order. Prisoners are held up to two years without charges or trial. But in fact, the ISA usually applies to people who pit themselves against the government’s interests. In 1985, villagers from the Perak region protested the construction of a radioactive dump near their homes. Several people were detained using the ISA, forcing people to fight the project in court for nearly ten years. In 1998, the ISA was used against Anwar Ibrahim, an opposition member in the government, setting off widespread protests with the slogan “Reformasi”.

Many of the people I encountered remarked on the treatment given to protestors. In early January 2008, a permit was denied to hold a candlelight vigil protesting the ISA on a Saturday night at Merdeka Square. The offical reason was that the vigil would create a traffic jam; however, the square is about 3 football fields long and the attendance would only number a few hundred. Organizers pushed ahead anyway and, the police were right, traffic problems resulted. But they were due to sloppy police action–rolling a riot tank on the candle holders, dousing them with water cannons and chasing them with batons onto nearby streets.

The heavy-handed response may be a symptom of spiraling forces that neither human nor government can contain. Both usually exacerbate the crisis as they attempt to control the situation.

This past year, the Hindu Rights Acton Force (HINDRAF) also initiated protests. The primary motivation was to stop the demolition of temples and shrines. The demands would soon include challenging racial discrimination and reforming the electoral system. The government’s response was to put the HINDRAF leaders in prison under the ISA. This fueled 20,000 people to rally on November 25th, making the government release all but five of the detainees. By late January, the government was purposing new laws to limit and deport visiting Hindu workers, a remedy that will only create more street protests. The Hindi population are living in perpetual poverty and as second class citizens. They work the most undesirable jobs, if they can get one at all, that is. They go to schools that are underfunded by the government, thereby ensuring a life of menial labor and destitution.

This past year also saw the shrinking of the country’s primary crop and staple, palm oil. Greedy western European countries have discovered it as a source of fuel for their cars, thereby denying food and livelihood to much of the Malaysian populace. Bloody upheavals in Indonesia have already started in the new year over similar palm oil shortages; how long before they come to Malaysia is uncertain. A regional flour shortage and soaring gasoline prices will only increase the potential for agitation.

In the eastern part of the country, where some of the world’s oldest jungles remain, indigenous tribes fought displacement from their ancestral land to build a dam. The Penan tribe lost and are in another battle against a timber company threatening to deforest their new home in the jungle in the Barram region. The land they inhabit is evidently a coveted source of wealth for corporations. The tribe’s leader, Lony Kerong, suddenly went missing and was found dead days later. This probably shortened the time until indigenous people are forced to give up living on the land and move to the decaying cities.

Much of the Malaysian population has yet to take to the street or to join the growing protests. People barely exist, spending too much time working useless jobs while being inundated by shopping centers and television induced entertainment. Meanwhile, life and death struggles of immigrants, indigenous people and the extremely poor are distant and obscure. Sometimes the issues surface to public consciousness but the government is doing its best to keep them submerged.

The beginning of 2008 will see elections in Malaysia and many peope don’t see the Muslim government budging much from their seat, though they may fall asleep in it on occasions. I accompanied protesters recently as we traveled to the Prime Minister Abdullah Badawi’s base of operations. The small group of 10 protestors demanded he step down, since he keeps dozing at public functions, offering him a pillow as a retirement gift. I wondered as contemplating the 30 soldiers surrounding the protest, if this is a symptom of having dinosaurs in the leadership of government offices.

Malaysia is not alone in trying to hide the crumbling facade of free elections. In 2007, protests in nearby countries like Pakistan included lawyers throwing molotovs and the assasination of opposition leaders. The unrest and shooting of protestors in Myanmar will testify how dictators like General Than Shwe may age, but they do not step down easily and without the spilling of blood. To the south, former Indonesian military dictator Suharto rots in his deathbed having the legacy of one of the most bloody governments of the 20th century. When he stepped down in the late 90’s, rowdy protests demanded changes that still have not come. In nearby Thailand the former Prime Minister Thaskin, who was ousted in a military coup, is making inroads to regaining influence in the government. This is disturbing fortune, since he implemented a heinous war on drugs in which over a thousand people were executed without a trial. His policies sparked an insurgency in the south where Thailand borders Malaysia. Clearly people are not happy with the distribution of power.

Malaysia’s capital city, Kuala Lumpur, holds the Merdeka Square where traffic will likely be interrupted by swelling protests and standoffs with the police. A growing crime rate spurred the city to promise 600 more cops on the streets. Hopefully they will be ineffectual in stopping the political graffiti sprouting up around town or the new Critical Mass that recently started. These may be small changes and only intially affect a fraction of people, as Food Not Bombs does. But small acts are a testimony that in times of disarray and panic it is essential we don’t let the problems created by multinational corporations and Ivy League ideologies bog us down. We just need to do something simple and immediate.

“Who am I, as a white American man, to decide how an oppressed group should express their resistance? I support anyone fighting against U.S. imperialism, whether they are insurgents in Iraq or American Indians in Colorado, and I am not going to tell them what they should and should not do.”

About 25 of us were packed into the back room of a local Infoshop to attend a talk about the role of violence in movements for social change. When the presenter arrived at this point, I was not surprised; I had heard this argument so many times, in so many different forms, that I had spotted it long before it was spoken.

One person protested, politely suggesting that many Iraqi insurgent groups do horrible things that are not worthy of anyone’s support. The presenter retorted that the mainstream media misrepresents the struggles of groups in resistance. Heads nodded in agreement, and the conversation quickly moved on to other topics. I am ashamed to say that I remained silent and allowed the issue to be buried.

“Those in positions of privilege who are interested in radical social change should support resistance movements led by oppressed people, withholding all judgment.”

This principle has surfaced in countless radical spaces that I have been a part of, from feminist meetings to Indymedia workshops to anti-war events. Whether explicitly spoken or silently assumed as a foundational truth, it has often had the status of an axiom that is nearly impossible to question. Sometimes it leads to awkward clashes and moral dissonance, but I have never seen it thrown out into the open for all to debate.

I think that this principle contains powerful and misguided claims about human subjectivity. It casts oppressed people as essentially simple and good and constructs their subjectivity as radically different from that of privileged people. It homogenizes complex factions into unified wholes, denying diversity and individual agency. It answers nuanced questions about justice with overly simple statements about human character, jumbling up important discussions within social movements.

We live in a society where constant criticism, insult, and dismissal are everyday instruments and manifestations of oppression. People in positions of privilege learn and adopt these oppressive behaviors, not necessarily because they want to, but because their social positions shape who they are. In order to help disrupt this dynamic and contribute to collective liberation, people in positions of privilege must radically transform themselves; they must examine and change their own oppressive thoughts and behaviors and fight against the oppressive social structures — whether cultural or institutional — that they are caught up in.

The principle that “people in positions of privilege should withhold all judgment of oppressed people in resistance” is an attempt to solve this problem. It suggests that, in order to reverse oppressive social dynamics, privileged people should avoid criticizing and judging oppressed people; indeed, privileged people telling oppressed people what to do and who to be is the very problem, according to this line of thought. Instead, privileged people should take leadership from oppressed people in combating social problems, whether those problems are expressed in interpersonal dynamics or social structures. Only then can we turn social hierarchies on their heads within social movements, and thus ensure that the change we create is truly liberating.

I think that this approach begins to break down when you look at how it constructs the subjectivity of the oppressed versus the privileged person. When I use the word subjectivity, I refer to the internal reality of the person: her interpretation of experience, process of thought, repository of memories, and unique consciousness. I use this word because of its strength; I wish to demonstrate the totalizing effects of claims about human subjectivity.

First of all, to claim that oppressed people are beyond reproach implies certain boundaries. It suggests that privileged people exist within a field where outside and internal criticism is welcome and constructive, but that they should make sure that this criticism stays within their field and does not extend into the realm of oppressed people. This framework is cast as important for the political transformation of privileged people; by absorbing and internalizing criticism from the outside, as well as generating criticism of those who share her social advantage, the privileged person can begin to identify and change her own oppressive ways and those of the larger group to which she belongs. Thus, individual and collective transformation are closely related; the privileged person must continuously work on herself in order to challenge structural oppression and affect positive change in her personal life. Within this framework, the subjectivity of the privileged person becomes hugely important for political struggle. The privileged person must navigate a complex mental terrain, fraught with dangerous thoughts, learned behaviors, and possible mistakes. By employing agency and force of will, the privileged person can transform herself into an agent of positive social change.

The subjectivities of oppressed people are decidedly more static, according to this line of thought. Oppressed people exist within a field that is closed off to criticism — this tool for understanding and growth, by which the privileged person is established as a political subject, is denied them. The oppressed person is seen from the outside — as a part of an oppressed whole — but it is impossible to peer in to learn about her inner workings, if they exist at all. She is a political subject because of the group to which she belongs, not because of her unique desires, goals, motivations, or personal choices. Within this framework, the oppressed person is no longer insulted, harassed, and disproportionately criticized. But she is still “other.” The self that she occupies is unknowable; questioning and criticism cannot be used to decipher the cause of her actions. She is still contained within the category that oppression has created for her — a category of difference as defined by the privileged outsider.

It is easy to see how this line of thought leads to the essentialization of oppressed people as inherently good. The reasoning is that those who suffer under oppressive institutions, governments, and cultures know far more about the workings of oppression than those in positions of privilege ever could. Thus, oppressed people are driven towards positive radical change as a direct consequence of their conditions. Unlike the privileged person, who must fight against the oppressive behaviors she has inadvertently learned, the oppressed person must merely be who she is and follow the knowledge that her social position affords her.

It is true that direct exposure to oppression is a powerful source of knowledge. However, as Joan Scott has argued, personal knowledge through experience is not unmediated. Systems of oppression also serve to beat people down, delude them, and shape their responses. No one can avoid being situated in a historical moment that has power to affect her perceptions of reality. To claim that oppressed people do not have to struggle, self-criticize, introspect, and search in order to do the right thing denies them agency, creativity, and force of will, and in fact, reserves these qualities for privileged people alone, who are constantly tempted to do the wrong thing.

There is no doubt that privileged people in resistance movements need to do a great deal of work to overcome learned oppressive behaviors. However, this effort will only be hindered by embracing clichés about the essential goodness of oppressed people. I think that it is absolutely vital to re-think an approach that renders oppressed people infallible and unreproachable and devise new methods for combating oppression that take human variation and complexity
into account.

Let us return to the previous example to look at what happens when the principle that “oppressed people in resistance are beyond reproach” is applied to real political situations. The presenter essentialized all resistance movements against U.S. imperialism as deserving of indiscriminate support — as pulled by the same force towards good. Yet, who are these “oppressed Iraqi people” bound together by common struggle? Are they Sunnis, Shiites, secularists, socialists, or capitalists? Are they the ones blowing up crowded markets, fleeing Iraq, attending peace rallies, or hoisting the caskets of their children on their shoulders as they march through the streets? Are they the ones carrying out honor killings or fighting for their abolition? The category of the “unified oppressed group” becomes dangerously homogenizing; a complex social situation, with many competing political visions, is reduced to a cliché. Individual subjectivity is lost; all become a part of a whole that does not represent them — that is patently false.

It is easy to see how dangerous this line of thought can become. The false category of the oppressed group makes it impossible to openly discuss oppression within that group — ethnically motivated discrimination and murder, patriarchal oppression, religious tyranny, etc. It also prevents distinction between groups with different political goals.

The principle that oppressed people are beyond reproach contains claims about human subjectivity that are damaging and false. Yet, it is an attempt to answer vital questions about justice within social movements. How do we create fair, equitable movements for radical change? How do we prevent the oppressive power relations that we are fighting against from infecting resistance movements? How do we create coalitions among diverse group of people? How do we handle political disagreement amongst people of differing cultural and privilege backgrounds?

The answers to these questions are beyond the scope of this essay. What I have argued here is that the answers do not lie in clichés about the essential goodness of oppressed people. Political situations are infinitely variable, and so must be correct courses of action. Questions about justice within social movements must be addressed honestly and deeply, with attention to nuance and specificity. While it is important to discuss these issues collectively, it is also vitally important to think for oneself — to approach these questions with open eyes and to take on the full weight of one’s decisions.