Tag-Archiv für 'anarchismus'

Aufstand, Perspektive & Debatte

Auf Luzi-M wird munter weiter mit den Anarchist_innen von Fernweh diskutiert – und gemessen daran, dass der Stein des Anstosses eher launig bis lyrisch war ist die Sache mittlerweile erstaunlich substantiell. Es wird Carl Schmitt zitiert & das Individuum dekonstruiert um dann interher doch wieder beim Staat als Dreh- und Angelpunkt von allem und damit bei der Staatskritik als Dreh- und Angelkritik an allem zu landen.

Der Teil mit Carl Schmitt, der hier als Theoretiker der Aufstandsbekämpfung vorgestellt wird ist mit Erkenntnisgewinn zu lesen. Wobei die raffinierteste Staatskriik nicht die Frage beantwortet was tun, sondern eine bestenfalls von großem Quatsch abhält. Was und warum ein sinnvolles Verhältnis aus Theoriearbeit und anderer Praxis führe ich vielleicht irgendwann aus, stattdessen etwas Semi-Themenbezogene Werbung.

Die Podiumsdiskussion beim Buko wird der Frage nachgehen „Perspektive Aufstand?!“, mit auf dem Podium sitzen unter anderem ein Anarcho-Aktivist aus Tarnac (dem wohl auch mal vorgeworfen wurde am kommenden Aufstand mitgeschrieben zu haben) und ein libertärer Aktivist aus Tunesien – die anderen stecken glaube ich in Spanien respektive Griechenland in Miet- und Häuserkämpfen (Würde die Buko-Vorbereitung etwas Aussagekräftigere Werbung machen wüsste ich genaueres).
Anders gesagt – hier reiben sich anarchistische oder aufständige Standpunkte die in sehr verschiedenen Kontexten erarbeitet wurden aneinander und an Erfahrungen die in sehr konkreten, möglicherweise auch langweiligen aber wichtigen sozialen Kämpfen gemacht wurden. Das ist doch interessant?

The first stone was for Alexis, the rest are for us

Ein paar Texte, geschrieben von Protagonist_innen der Revolte in Griechenland.
A Bedouin anytime! A Citizen never.

Amidst this ludicrous climate of shallow analyses the salaried officials of the psychological warfare point at the revolted, howling: “That’s not democratic, that ignores the rules under which our democracy functions”. We cannot help but momentarily stand speechless in the face of what we would until recently have considered impossible. Even if having the intention to deceive, the bosses of this country have said something true: We despise democracy more than anything else in this decadent world. For what is democracy other than a system of discriminations and coercions in the service of property and privacy? And what are its rules, other than rules of negotiation of the right to own – the invisible rules of alienation?
[…]
The revolt was by definition also a revolt against property and alienation. Anyone that didn’t hide behind the curtains of their privacy, anyone who was out on the streets, knows it only too well: Shops were looted not for computers, clothes or furniture to be resold but for the joy of destructing what alienates us: the spectacle of the product. Anyone who doesn’t understand why someone delights in the sight of a destructed product is a merchant or a cop.

Merry Crisis and a happy new Fear

“Normality” (read: their normality; the capitalist norm of exploitation, misery, repression and death) is what we are standing up against. This is what we do now, what we have always done, yet in these past days it is something that has become clearer than ever (like writen elsewhere: “sometimes, tear gas can make you see better”). There were so many of us now that normality faced a new fear: a fear that it might soon be a normality no more.

These Days are Ours, too
Von eienr Immigrant_innengruppe, wurde von Cafe Morgenland übersetzt.

The children of migrants mobilise en mass and dynamically, primarily through high school and university actions as well as through the organisations of the left and the far left. They are the most integrated part of the migrant community, the most courageous. They are unlike their parents, who came with their head bowed, as if they were beging for a loaf of bread. They are a part of the Greek society, since they’ve lived in no other. They do not beg for something, they demand to be equal with their Greek classmates. Equal in rights, on the streets, in dreaming.

For us, the politically organised migrants, this is a second french November of 2005. We never had any illusions that when the peoples’ rage overflew we would be able to direct it in any way. Despite the struggles we have taken on during all these years we never managed to achieve such a mass response like this one. Now is time for the street to talk: The deafening scream heard is for the 18 years of violence, repression, exploitation and humiliation. These days are ours, too.

These days are for the hundreds of migrants and refugees who were murdered at the borders, in police stations, workplaces. They are for those murdered by cops or “concerned citizens.” They are for those murdered for daring to cross the border, working to death, for not bowing their head, or for nothing. They are for Gramos Palusi, Luan Bertelina, Edison Yahai, Tony Onuoha, Abdurahim Edriz, Modaser Mohamed Ashtraf and so many others that we haven’t forgotten.