Με αφορμή το βιβλίο «Αντι-οφθαλμός: μια φιλοσοφία της απόδρασης» οι εκδόσεις Affect και το Κενό Δίκτυο σας προσκαλούν σε μια παρουσίαση / συζήτηση με τον Adam Jones, συγγραφέα και φιλόσοφο και μέλος της συλλογικότητας Acid Horizon.

Πέμπτη 18/12/2025
στις 20:00
Ελεύθερο Αυτοδιαχειριζόμενο
Θέατρο Εμπρός
(Ρήγα Παλαμήδη 2)

Η ομιλία θα μεταφράζεται στα Ελληνικά. Την εκδήλωση θα ανοίξει ο Αλέξανδρος Γεωργίου από τις εκδόσεις Affect.

Τις περισσότερες φορές η αντίληψη του ελέγχου εξαντλείται στην έννοια της επιτήρησης σαν μάτι της εξουσίας, με τις αστυνομικές συνδηλώσεις που αυτη έχει, και χάνει έτσι τη διαδικασία παραγωγής της εξουσίας του ελέγχου. Με άλλα λόγια, η έμφαση έχει δοθεί συνήθως στην ίδια την εξουσία και όχι στο βλέπειν αυτού του μεταφορικού ματιού.

Τι θα γινόταν αν θέταμε το ερώτημα: τι σημαίνει ότι το μάτι της εξουσίας βλέπει; – ή ακόμα καλύτερα πώς βλέπει το μάτι της εξουσίας; Η απάντηση σε αυτό το ερώτημα είναι που για τους Acid Horizon αποκαλύπτει το διάγραμμα της εξουσίας – το διάγραμμα ως σχηματικό αποτύπωμα των μηχανισμών της εξουσίας.

Ο οφθαλμός ορίζεται στο κείμενο ως εκείνο το μάτι που αναγνωρίζει, και μέσω της αναγνώρισης ταυτο-ποιεί, δηλαδή κατατάσσει τα άτομα σε προκατασκευασμένες
ταυτότητες.

Οφθαλμικότητα λοιπόν είναι ακριβώς η πράξη της αναγνώρισης με στόχο την ταυτοποίηση, η συνθήκη της λειτουργίας εκείνης που αποτελεί προϋπόθεση της άσκησης της κυβερνητικής (cybernetic), της διακυβέρνησης, δηλαδή της άσκησης της εξουσίας στις συνθήκες της κοινωνίας του ελέγχου. Η πράξη αυτή δεν επιτελείται μονοσήμαντα από ένα κεντρικό «μάτι στον ουρανό», αντιθέτως απλώνεται σε ένα σύμπαν από μηχανισμούς. Περισσότερο από ουσία της εξουσίας ή υλοποιημένη οντότητα, η οφθαλμικότητα περιγράφει το modus operandi κάθε εξουσιαστικού μηχανισμού, είναι ο αφαιρετικός πυρήνας με βάση τον οποίο μπορούν να οργανωθούν διαφορετικές εξουσιαστικές διατάξεις, όπως και έχει γίνει ιστορικά και κατά περίπτωση.

Το βιβλίο αυτό αποτελεί μια σημαντική συμβολή στον τρόπο που αντιλαμβανόμαστε την κυβερνολογική του ελέγχου και τις προϋποθέσεις ώστε αυτή να διαμορφώνει τα υποκείμενα πάνω στα οποία ασκείται. Διασχίζοντας το πέρασμα από το Φουκώ του «Επιτήρηση και Τιμωρία» στο Ντελέζ της «Κοινωνίας του ελέγχου» και των Tiqqun της «Κυβερνητικής Υπόθεσης», οι Acid Horizon εντοπίζουν τη διαμόρφωση των τεχνικών ταυτοποίησης και ελέγχου στις κανονικοποιήσεις αυτών που αποκλίνουν: στο φυλετικό ρατσισμό, στο δυισμό του φύλου, στην νευροτυπικότητα, στην αγυρτεία. Από εκεί ακριβώς ανοίγεται και ένα παράθυρο για να φανταστούμε την ιδέα της απόδρασης, για να οργανώσουμε κοινότητες έξω από τις μορφές της κυβερνητικής διακυβέρνησης.

Διοργάνωση:
affect editions https://affecteditions.gr/
Κενό Δίκτυο https://voidnetwork.gr/

The post Ομιλία: «Αντι-οφθαλμός: μια φιλοσοφία της απόδρασης» Adam Jones (Acid Horizon, UK) appeared first on Void Network.

“Kops and Klan go hand in hand!” This chant was shouted in street gatherings across the country during the 2020 uprising against white supremacy and police violence. The historic connection of white nationalist vigilante violence and the police became glaringly obvious in the disparity between the treatment of the Proud Boys and that of antiracist protesters, where police often refused to intervene while the far-right gangs leveled attacks on left-wing demonstrators.

Antifascism is built on the notion that these insurrectionary fascist groups, such as the alt-right or the Proud Boys, are extraordinary and distinct from the larger liberal order, yet it’s not that simple. Instead, the role of the police as an institution of social control in racial capitalism and settler-colonialism has always had some relationship to the insurgent white supremacist groups that are looking to reinstitute racial hierarchies. This apparently symbiotic relationship forces antifascists to reckon with the similarities and differences between white nationalist groups and the police as they build strategies to deal with both.

I interviewed abolitionist organizer Kelly Hayes — who is the host of Truthout’s podcast “Movement Memos” and a contributing writer at Truthout — about her experiences confronting these interlocking systems of oppression, how she became an organizer, how she approaches this relationship between antagonistic forces, and how we can build up an abolitionist antifascism that goes further than only defeating fringe neo-Nazi groups.

Written by Shane Burley, AK Press

Shane Burley: How does police abolition work connect to antifascism?

Kelly Hayes: Police, who are themselves fascistic, are the entry point to incarceration. There’s nothing more fascistic in the US than our prison system. If fascism escalates, it already has a mass disposal system for human beings and a populace that has been conditioned to ignore what happens in those places. We already know that people suffer and die horribly in those places, and we know people allow it. People participate in mythologies about the purpose and function of it all. These facilities manufacture conditions that bring about premature death and they extract time, as Ruth Wilson Gilmore has explained. The prison-industrial complex and its many tentacles are the beast the fascists would feed us to.

It’s important to remember that fighting fascism means fighting the erosion of human empathy. It means fighting the further normalization of mass suffering and death. That makes the prison-industrial complex ground zero.

What role does the police have in the growth of the far right?

The police are a natural home for right-wing militants and it’s important not to think of far right forces and police as distinct. The membership overlap between police and white supremacist organizations is quite telling.

But I think people also sort of limit themselves sometimes in how they perceive that overlap. Most racist people don’t join racist organizations. We need to understand the police as a white supremacist organization that has formalized power. It’s entrenched in the government, and maintains state interests, and has a whole mythology of “upholding decency” around it. Policing, as an idea, appeals to a lot of people who aren’t down with the [Ku Klux] Klan. Since police can be well paid in an economy that generally screws over Black and Brown communities, we see a lot of nonwhite cops, and that demographic diversity helps legitimize police violence.

People have a narrow image of what white supremacy and the far-right looks like because we are conditioned to see state violence as inherently legitimate. Police don’t just have legal immunity, for the most part, they also have social immunity, and their actions are not scrutinized in the ways that everyday people are. If they were, people would have no trouble recognizing, based on simple inventories of events, that the police are a force for white supremacy.

A lot of vigilante violence that helped impose order under Jim Crow became institutionalized as the police became more professionalized, and more heavily armed. Lynchings where no one was charged gave way to shootings and beatings and other violence that was dealt out from a place of police legitimacy.

It’s not surprising to see collaboration between police and right-wing vigilantes because they’re natural allies and grown out of the same cultural formation. We rarely see them clash, and, when they do, they often do it with kid gloves. You cannot effectively pit these forces against one another because they are too entwined and have too many shared values and purposes.

We saw these two forces, the police and the far right, even more explicitly collapse into each other over the past few years. How do you think we can build social movements capable of taking on both forces simultaneously?

We have to understand that there is no alternative to taking on both the police and the far right simultaneously. The police are the most powerful right-wing gang in the country.

When strategizing against them, it must be understood that they are in collaboration with other white supremacist organizations. When countering white supremacist organizations, it must be understood that police are either actively entrenched in those organizations, or could come to their aid at any time, because they’re on the same side.

_________

source: https://truthout.org/articles/we-must-unlearn-the-lie-that-state-violence-is-inherently-legitimate/

_________

The post We Must Unlearn the Lie That State Violence Is Inherently Legitimate- Interview with Kelly Hayes appeared first on Void Network.

In most of the liberal discussions of the recent police killings of unarmed black men, there is an underlying assumption that the police are supposed to protect and serve the population. That is, after all, what they were created to do. If only the normal, decent relations between the police and the community could be re-established, this problem could be resolved. Poor people in general are more likely to be the victims of crime than anyone else, this reasoning goes, and in that way, they are in more need than anyone else of police protection. Maybe there are a few bad apples, but if only the police weren’t so racist, or didn’t carry out policies like stop-and-frisk, or weren’t so afraid of black people, or shot fewer unarmed men, they could function as a useful service that we all need.

This liberal way of viewing the problem rests on a misunderstanding of the origins of the police and what they were created to do. The police were not created to protect and serve the population. They were not created to stop crime, at least not as most people understand it. And they were certainly not created to promote justice. They were created to protect the new form of wage-labor capitalism that emerged in the mid to late nineteenth century from the threat posed by that system’s offspring, the working class.

This is a blunt way of stating a nuanced truth, but sometimes nuance just serves to obfuscate.

Before the nineteenth century, there were no police forces that we would recognize as such anywhere in the world. In the Northern United States, there was a system of elected constables and sheriffs, much more responsible to the population in a very direct way than the police are today. In the South, the closest thing to a police force was the slave patrols. Then, as Northern cities grew and filled with mostly immigrant wage workers who were physically and socially separated from the ruling class, the wealthy elite who ran the various municipal governments hired hundreds and then thousands of armed men to impose order on the new working class neighborhoods.

Class conflict roiled late nineteenth century American cities like Chicago, which experienced major strikes and riots in 1867, 1877, 1886, and 1894. In each of these upheavals, the police attacked strikers with extreme violence, even if in 1877 and 1894 the U.S. Army played a bigger role in ultimately repressing the working class. In the aftermath of these movements, the police increasingly presented themselves as a thin blue line protecting civilization, by which they meant bourgeois civilization, from the disorder of the working class. This ideology of order that developed in the late nineteenth century echoes down to today – except that today, poor black and Latino people are the main threat, rather than immigrant workers.

Of course, the ruling class did not get everything it wanted, and had to yield on many points to the immigrant workers it sought to control. This is why, for instance, municipal governments backed away from trying to stop Sunday drinking, and why they hired so many immigrant police officers, especially the Irish. But despite these concessions, businessmen organized themselves to make sure the police were increasingly isolated from democratic control, and established their own hierarchies, systems of governance, and rules of behavior. The police increasingly set themselves off from the population by donning uniforms, establishing their own rules for hiring, promotion, and firing, working to build a unique esprit des corps, and identifying themselves with order. And despite complaints about corruption and inefficiency, they gained more and more support from the ruling class, to the extent that in Chicago, for instance, businessmen donated money to buy the police rifles, artillery, Gatling guns, buildings, and money to establish a police pension out of their own pockets.

There was a never a time when the big city police neutrally enforced “the law,” or came anywhere close to that ideal (for that matter, the law itself has never been neutral). In the North, they mostly arrested people for the vaguely defined “crimes” of disorderly conduct and vagrancy throughout the nineteenth century. This meant that the police could arrest anyone they saw as a threat to “order.” In the post-bellum South, they enforced white supremacy and largely arrested black people on trumped-up charges in order to feed them into convict labor systems.

The violence the police carried out and their moral separation from those they patrolled were not the consequences of the brutality of individual officers, but were the consequences of careful policies designed to mold the police into a force that could use violence to deal with the social problems that accompanied the development of a wage-labor economy. For instance, in the short, sharp depression of the mid 1880s, Chicago was filled with prostitutes who worked the streets. Many policemen recognized that these prostitutes were generally impoverished women seeking a way to survive, and initially tolerated their behavior. But the police hierarchy insisted that the patrolmen do their duty whatever their feelings, and arrest these women, impose fines, and drive them off the streets and into brothels, where they could be ignored by some members of the elite and controlled by others. Similarly, in 1885, when Chicago began to experience a wave of strikes, some policemen sympathized with strikers. But once the police hierarchy and the mayor decided to break the strikes, policemen who refused to comply were fired. In these and a thousand similar ways, the police were molded into a force that would impose order on working class and poor people, whatever the individual feelings of the officers involved.

Though some patrolmen tried to be kind and others were openly brutal, police violence in the 1880s was not a case of a few bad apples – and neither is it today.

Much has changed since the creation of the police – most importantly the influx of black people into the Northern cities, the mid-twentieth century black movement, and the creation of the current system of mass incarceration in part as a response to that movement. But these changes did not lead to a fundamental shift in policing. They led to new policies designed to preserve fundamental continuities. The police were created to use violence to reconcile electoral democracy with industrial capitalism. Today, they are just one part of the “criminal justice” system which continues to play the same role. Their basic job is to enforce order among those with the most reason to resent the system – who in our society today are disproportionately poor black people.

A democratic police system is imaginable – one in which police are elected by and accountable to the people they patrol. But that is not what we have. And it’s not what the current system of policing was created to be.

If there is one positive lesson from the history of policing’s origins, it is that when workers organized, refused to submit or cooperate, and caused problems for the city governments, they could back the police off from the most galling of their activities. Murdering individual police officers, as happened in in Chicago on May 3rd 1886 and more recently in New York on December 20th, 2014, only reinforced those calling for harsh repression – a reaction we are beginning to see already. But resistance on a mass scale could force the police to hesitate. This happened in Chicago during the early 1880s, when the police pulled back from breaking strikes, hired immigrant officers, and tried to re-establish some credibility among the working class after their role in brutally crushing the 1877 upheaval.

The police might be backed off again if the reaction against the killings of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, and countless others continues. If they are, it will be a victory for those mobilizing today, and will save lives – though as long as this system that requires police violence to control a big share of its population survives, any change in police policy will be aimed at keeping the poor in line more effectively.

We shouldn’t expect the police to be something they’re not. As historians, we ought to know that origins matter, and the police were created by the ruling class to control working class and poor people, not help them. They’ve continued to play that role ever since.

source: http://lawcha.org/wordpress/2014/12/29/stop-kidding-police-created-control-working-class-poor-people/#disqus_thread

Sam Mitrani is an Associate Professor of History at the College of DuPage. He earned his PhD from the University of Illinois at Chicago in 2009 and his book The Rise of the Chicago Police Department: Class and Conflict, 1850-1894 is available from the University of Illinois Press.

The post Stop Kidding Yourself! The Police Were Created to Control Working Class and Poor People- by Sam Mitrani appeared first on Void Network.

In two previous essay, I discussed the role of the Left in protecting the police through cautious reformism, and the effectiveness of a pacified, falsified—in a word disarmed—history of the Civil Rights movement to prevent us from learning from previous struggles and achieving a meaningful change in society.

The police are a racist, authoritarian institution that exists to protect the powerful in an unequal system. Past and present efforts to reform them have demonstrated that reformism can’t solve the problem, though it does serve to squander popular protests and advance the careers of professional activists. Faced with this situation, in which Left and Right unwittingly collude to prolong the problem, the extralegal path of rioting, seizing space, and fighting back against the police makes perfect sense. In fact, this phenomenon, denounced as “violence” by the media, the police, and many activists in unison, was not only the most significant feature of the Ferguson (and Baltimore) rebellion and the solidarity protests organized in hundreds of other cities, it was also the vital element that made everything else possible, that distinguished the killing of Michael Brown from a hundred other police murders. What’s more, self-defense against state violence (whether excercized by police or by tolerated paramilitaries like the Klan) is not an exceptional occurrence in a long historical perspective, but a tried and true form of resistance, and one of the only that has brought results, in the Civil Rights movement and earlier.

What remains is to speak about possibilities that are radically external to the self-regulating cycle of tragedy and reform. What remains is to speak loudly and clearly about a world without police.

We don’t want better police. We don’t want to fix the police. On the contrary, we understand that the police work quite well; they simply do not work for us and they never have. We want to get rid of the police entirely, and we want to live in a world where police are not necessary.

Far from being a naïve position, I believe it is the only one that can withstand serious scrutiny, whether in the form of a comprehensive historical analysis of the role and evolution of police and the effectiveness of reform movements, or of an examination of the breadth of possibility that human societies have already demonstrated.

No one can effectively argue that the police are necessary in an absolute sense. They are a relatively recent invention, as far as institutions go. The only question is what kind of society needs police, and whether that kind of society makes the systematic murders, torture, beatings, and surveillance worth it.

Dennis Sullivan and Larry Tifft have compiled a great deal of information on societies that use various forms of conflict resolution in which an organization such as the police has no place. From the Diné (Navajo) to the Semai, there are dozens of societies—all of them impacted to varying degrees by Western colonialism—that have practiced restorative or transformative justice, dealing with cases of conflict or social harm without ever having to be so brutal as to lock people up in cages or create an elite body designed to surveille people or mobilize organized violence against those who transgress set laws. They compare neighboring societies that face similar socio-economic conditions but use different strategies for dealing with harm, as well as Western societies that make minimal usage of policing and judicial apparatuses.

A pattern that becomes immediately evident is that police and prisons are only necessary in societies that are based on exploitation and inequality. The police are not an instrument fit to protect a society; on the contrary they are an instrument fit to protect an elite, parasitical class from society. Any society with a minimal practice of cooperation and solidarity can protect itself from individuals who would harm others. A hierarchical, militarized force such as the police, or an institution like the prison designed to remove conflict and transgression from the social sphere, only makes sense where there is a parasitical social class that exists in antagonism with the rest of society, and needs to manage social norms of right and wrong and monopolize violent force in order to preserve its power. Such a class also needs a justice mechanism, such as courts and a legislative body, to formalize its conception of right and wrong, and a propaganda mechanism, whether a state religion or mass media, to ensure that the exploited majority identify with their masters and reproduce the norms of the elite. When a normal person speaks out against throwing rocks at the police or destroying businesses, they are expressing values that originate at the top of the social pyramid.

Of course it gets more complicated when you realize that interests are always subjective, and people often get more out of identifying with a larger community, no matter how fictitious, than they do out of having food to eat or a roof over their heads. In the end, everyone from the CEO to the news anchor to the taxi driver or homebum with conventional ideas all participate in reproducing the same system, and they probably all sincerely believe in the positions they espouse, but some clearly have more influence than others, and can be identified as originators of certain aspects of the present system.

Therefore, we are not speaking for the masses when we assert that the police and the prisons exist to control them, but we should also not shy away from espousing a radical position just because it will be unpopular. We need to have faith that a great many people might eventually come to support radical positions regarding the police. Many people already support parts of these positions intuitively or implicitly, and the reason that more people don’t, at least not expressly, is that so few people currently dare to declare the police an intractable enemy of freedom or to openly advocate a world without police. At this juncture, the last thing that we need is for more people to espouse tepid, inane suggestions for reform that are completely untenable and unrealistic. But as long as proposals for meager reform are taken seriously, that’s what we’ll get.

We can’t get rid of police brutality without getting rid of the police, and we can’t get rid of the police without getting rid of an entire system based on exploitation, oppression, and hierarchy. There is no easy, band-aid solution to this problem, and bandying them about only perpetuates the problem. Foregrounding difficult, far-reaching changes does not mean, however, fixating an abstract gaze on a pre-designed future and blinding ourselves to immediate problems. On the contrary, we need to focus on how we fight now for a better world, and part of that means avoiding forms of action that make real changes even more improbable.

As I argued in Part II, most of what was achieved in the Civil Rights movement in terms of short-term changes was achieved when people armed themselves, took over their streets, and fought back without worrying about ruling class taboos against lower class violence. If we fight for total social transformation without proposing naïve reforms, those in power will trip over themselves trying to buy us off with quick fixes and opportunities to participate in the system.

This in fact is how most social movements in history have gone down. Whatever improvements have been won were actually won by those who fought for radical positions, using uncompromising methods and aggressive tactics, though the victories were claimed by the reformers, who tend to be a combination of dissident members of the ruling structures, opportunists who wish to climb the social ladder, and sincere people who have been duped by a discourse of pragmatism. Their own methods are too sedate to shake things up and force a change, in fact their timidity demonstrates to authority that they are ultimately a loyal opposition undeserving of repression. They must ride the coattails of the radicals in order to be in position when the rulers realize that some change is necessary in order to avoid an actual revolution. The reason that these movements always stop after an incomplete reform, and that the most ineffective sectors of these movements tend to get the credit, is because the reformers have a tendency to throw the radicals under the bus, helping the State eliminate them in exchange for access to power in its newly reformed configuration. After all, who better to discern what reform will best fool the people on bottom than someone who has recently come up from the bottom?

I previously mentioned that a police apparatus cannot exist without a hierarchical society, a prison system, a justice system, and some kind of culture industry, whether religious or mediatic. All of these institutions defend a ruling structure against the conflicts generated by its antagonistic position towards society. Modern democracies go a step further, however; if conflict with society is inevitable, why not manage it rather than trying to suppress it?

In Ferguson, the managers of social conflict were in large part those activists who preached nonviolence and denounced the rioters, as I mentioned in Part I. But there is an important kind of management I neglected to mention.

Those of us who are critical of the mass media may have a hard time explaining the sympathetic position that Time Magazine or Rolling Stone occasionally took with the rioters. Of course, a couple articles hardly make up for thousands of syndicated columns objectively refering to rioters as some kind of pathological parasite, radio hosts calling looters “idiots” and worse, TV spots spreading fear about savage hordes of demons and outside agitators, days long NPR marathons urging peaceful protest, and so on. Nonetheless, the phenomenon is curious as well as significant. In the case of Rolling Stone, we could suppose that this old establishment rag is afraid of all the ground it has lost in the risqué news niche to dynamic newcomers like Vice; however the explanation would be insufficient.

The seemingly subversive behavior of a few outliers is hardly unprecedented. In the recent insurrection in Greece, a large part of the media expressed sympathy with the rioters, albeit in a very formulaic way. In the media lens, young students were justifiably protesting in the streets after the police murder of 15-year-old Alexis Grigoropoulos, anarchists were hijacking the event to burn police stations, and immigrants were taking advantage of the situation to loot stores. None of these characterizations are based on fact. Millions of young people and old, Greeks and immigrants, participated in the uprising, in a variety of ways. Many students looted, many immigrants walked along with protests. A frequently expressed sentiment was that participation in the insurrection blurred all of these pre-established identities, in which case the media operation clearly intended to reassert them. With all three subjects, the media caricature refers to a prefabricated figure that the entire population was already familiar with—the socially concerned student, the pyromaniac anarchist, the criminal immigrant—that only ever existed on the glowing screen, because it was the media themselves that created it. That’s the brilliance of the media: they rarely have to verify their claims, because they operate within a virtual universe that they themselves have created.

In the Greek example, it is obvious why the media would sympathize with student rioting: to discourage non-students from participating or identifying with the uprising; and to establish a limit of acceptable tactics, implicitly criminalizing the looting and the attacks on police stations. After all, the intensity of street fighting over three uninterrupted weeks was forcing the government to consider calling in the military. They were willing to tolerate burning barricades and illegal protests if things didn’t go further.

Likewise, when people start to bring guns to protests as in Ferguson, there will be those among the forces of law and order who begin to see the wisdom in tolerating the smashing of banks. It’s noteworthy that the media only begin to stomach property destruction when talk of shooting back begins to resonate throughout society. And though within the confines of American dialogue, it feels like a breath of fresh air that Time Magazine would sympathize with rioters, it is a more or less calculated move that functions to limit the growth of resistance. Even if the editors of a magazine are not scheming consciously and explicitly about how to maintain social control, they are still individuals with a vested interest in the current system. People fighting fiercely for their freedom, unlike those who compulsively walk in circles or stage die-ins, often force a recognition of their humanity and win a limited sympathy from their enemies. They also make the existence of a social conflict undeniable. In such a case, people in power may come to accept tactics that they had previously condemned, to acknowledge errors they had previously denied, but their condemnation of forms of rebellion that are irreversibly destabilizing will only crystalize. People can be permitted to blow off steam, even in illegal ways, but they cannot be permitted to blunt or sabotage the instruments of the State. And when the police confront an armed population, they are suddenly much less effective.

Another way that exceptional dissent might manifest is in the realm of discourse and research. I am by no means the first person to express the idea that the police should be abolished, nor is this idea entirely strange in acceptable discourse among people who are much better dressed than I am. However the elaboration of these discourses must be couched in certain ways to signal their usefulness to the State, and their separation from communities in struggle.

If we assert that it is not permitted to speak of a world without police, this is only true if we understand the police as one function in an interlocking system of domination, and the abolition of the police means the abolition of that entire system. Otherwise, there is a great deal of research and debate that maps out the possibilities of prison abolition or an end to policing as we know it. But what is the actual meaning and effect of this discourse?

I would start by arguing that the vast majority of those who conduct this theoretical labor have good intentions. But we also know what they say about good intentions, and the paving stones on the road to hell are not nearly as substantial as the ones being thrown at cops in Ferguson and elsewhere. With this facile figure of speech, I actually mean to suggest a different criterion for evaluating our actions.

I gladly admit that the information produced by academics or activists who theorize about prison abolition or a world without police is thought-provoking and useful. I have cited a few examples of it in this essay. But just as we must ask why Time Magazine would sympathize with rioters, we should ask why there exist paid positions for people to study prison abolition. Either capitalism isn’t a totality, or the prisons and the police are not an integral part of power, or power benefits somehow by studying its own abolition.

I believe the answer lies between the second and the third possibilities. Even though the abolition of prisons is not a likely future, from the present vantage, democratic capitalism increases its chances for survival by exploring contingency plans for extreme cases, and by giving opponents employment opportunities. The advantage is increased if “prisons” or “police” can be discursively transformed from an integral element of a whole system into a particular appendage that can be discarded or modified. And there are few methods of discourse more suited to carrying out this transformation than the academic—which favors specificity and an analysis of parts over wholes—and the activist—which tends towards single-issue messaging that favors the myopic over the radical.

Someone in the academy or in the world of professional activism can study the police for all the right reasons, personally holding a global analysis of the integral role of police within a greater whole, but the institutional formulae of applying for grants, publishing articles, and claiming concrete improvements all modulate those individuals’ activity to favor a piecemeal worldview and to direct discourse at other power-holders.

It may sound like a platitude but I believe experience in struggle bears it out: you cannot abolish that with which you dialogue. State authority above all thrives on being present in every social conversation. A conversation with employers, legislators, grant-writers, or experts about the abolition of the police necessarily assumes the replacement of one form of policing with another.

The modern prison was born out of the abolition of the scaffold. Community policing was a survival mechanism after the defeats and the unpopularity of the police caused by the struggles of the ’60s. The danger is real.

Even without a far-reaching reform that allows the powerful to regenerate their methods for accumulating power, radical discourses in professional channels present other problems. One I have already hinted at can be thought of as misdirection.

Let’s imagine an organization that focuses on prison abolition. Their employees are sincere, dedicated activists, some of them proven veterans of past struggles. Nearly all of them are college graduates, and some might be academics; otherwise they stay in close contact with the experts who produce facts that make it easier to argue for prison abolition in polite circles. They produce many valuable materials that can be useful for supporting prisoners or changing people’s opinions about the prison system, and they may even have a pilot project on a couple blocks in a specific neighborhood, designed to decrease reliance on the prison industrial complex.

Taken individually, all of these things are great. We need more people who are talking about a world without prisons. But the ideas that this hypothetical organization spreads, how do they direct people’s attentions, particularly in a moment of social rebellion?

When such an organization, with paid staff, non-profit status, cred, but also rules to play by and bills to pay, proclaims that “We need to abolish the police and the prisons,” what is the practical implication? “Therefore this organization should receive more grants and this law should not be passed,” or “therefore these people who took up arms against the police deserve our support”? Clearly, it’s not the latter.

A professional approach to tackling the social problems underscored by Ferguson rarely returns people’s energies and attentions to the streets, where real change is created. True, most of the time, we don’t have something like Ferguson going on, so a patient, gradualist method seems to make sense. However, the conservatism of the professional approach often leads activists to play a pacifying role when a moment of intense struggle arises, as we abundantly witnessed this August and again in November. All across the country, even where they refrained from denouncing rioters, activist organizations called for vigils and speak-outs, when it was clear that the time for mere words had passed. Directly or indirectly, these mobilizations allowed a middle-class constituency to monopolize the social response and prevent rioting, at a time when an unprecedented number of people were ready to fight back.

What’s more, the assumptions are all wrong. Ferguson is only exceptional in its extension, not in its spirit. Not a month goes by when someone does not shoot back at the police in America. Most of the time, however, they are a lone shooter, they often kill themselves or die in the act, and the media always publish unsavory details about their personal lives, true or invented. They also portray the cops as heroes, no matter what kind of people they actually were, and they never entertain the possibility that the shooters were justified, as they always do when it’s cops doing the murdering (actually, this is too charitable a description; many media outlets assert from the beginning that the killing was justified, not even allowing a debate). The recent shooting of the two cops in NYC fits the pattern perfectly, but earlier cases like that of Christopher Monfort in Seattle, Eric Frein in Pennsylvania, or Christopher Dorner in LA also apply. None of this should be surprising. There is a certain schizophrenia in a society that glorifies the police and suppresses or distorts any honest conversation about what people actually experience at the hands of police and what sort of countermeasures are adequate or justified. If large numbers of alienated people feel entirely alone in their brutalization and dehumanization by police, collective resistance becomes impossible. The only people to express an active negation of the police will be individuals who reach a certain limit and then snap. By the very nature of the problem they are not going to be the stable ones, especially if mental health is defined as an infinite capacity to accomodate misery.

In Ferguson, rioters spraypainted the QT with the phrase, “free Kevin Johnson”, referring to a black man from an aggressively gentrifying St. Louis suburb who is on death row since 2008. Johnson shot to death an infamous bully of a cop who refused to help his kid brother as he lay dying from a heart condition. There is a direct connection between what are portrayed as isolated outbursts of senseless violence, and the massive rebellions that force society to at least stop and pay attention. I don’t, however, see the professionals making this connection. Typically they are either silent or help pathologize the lone wolves. The tragedy is, such incidents are only isolated as long as people in power AND people in social movements continue to actively isolate them.

Recognizing the basic legitimacy of these acts isn’t to glorify the shooters as heroes. There is something sad in any death, no matter who the victim is, and we’re in dire straits when the only available means of resistance that people think they have are directly suicidal. The point is, there is a direct connection between the systematic brutality of police and the appearance of people who shoot back. Denying it only maintains the schizophrenic condition that forces us to pathologize a sensible human response to systematic abuse, preserves our psychological loyalty to a system that treats us like fodder, and prevents the development of collective measures.

There have been attempts in the US to develop and spread methods of resistance to police that are collective, that brook no compromise, and that are less dangerous, less suicidal, than the method of the lone gunmen. The best known is probably the “black bloc.” And though it is clearly an imperfect tool, the bloc typically faces blanket denunciations by people who make no attempts to propose alternatives. In NGO-land, the trope that has been circulated is that the black bloc is the domain of young white men. Never mind that there are many testimonials by women, queer, and trans people attempting to counter this lie (and at great personal risk, since it requires speaking about personal involvement in an illegal activity); never mind that American anarchists have learned about the tactic not only in Europe but also in Latin America, where it is widely popular. The denunciations cannot be taken seriously as criticisms because they do not rely on realistic portrayals of the black bloc, they are formulated to silence rather than to engage, and they do not propose any alternatives for seizing space or collectively fighting back against police.

The extent to which this trope has been circulated by the corporate media reveals just how liberatory the thinking behind it truly is.

But the black bloc is just one possibility among many, and while it helps demonstrators protect themselves in rowdy street confrontations, it does not suggest to most people the vision of another world. Talking about a world without police in the here and now, without paving the way for our own co-optation is a big order to fill. Fortunately, the conversation is already ongoing.

We have the examples of societies that thrived without police, which I mentioned towards the beginning of the essay. Those stories belong to other cultures. I don’t think Westerners should use them as models or as ideological capital, but I think we should recognize their existence, to break the stranglehold that Western civilization has over definitions of human nature and human possibility, and we should also recognize that those other forms of being were violently interrupted by processes of colonization that are still ongoing. They are not marginal, idyllic stories of “primitive” societies with no bearing on modern reality, they are histories of peoples who are still struggling for survival. If, in the worlds we dream of, there is no room for them to reassert themselves independent of our designs, then whatever we create will only be a continuation of the thing we are fighting against.

More appropriate as inspiration for our own action are a number of stories of struggle in Western or westernized countries in which people created police-free zones on the ground. After all, a holistic critique of the police means that by the very nature of the problem, we cannot ask government to institute the needed changes. Real steps towards a world without police can be found in the riots in Ferguson and other cities around the country where people surpassed their self-appointed leaders and actually fought back, rather than just manufacturing yet another spectacle of symbolic dissent. The riots in Ferguson were not only important in an instrumental way, forcing all of society to consider the problem; they also suggested the beginnings of a solution as neighbors came together in solidarity, building new relations amongst themselves, and forcefully ejecting police from the neighborhoods they patrol.

Christiania is an autonomous neighborhood of Copenhagen that has been squatted since 1971. The area, with nearly a thousand inhabitants, organizes itself in assemblies, maintains its own economy and infrastructure, cleans up its trash, produces bicycles and other items in collective workshops, and runs a number of communal spaces. They also resolve their own conflicts, and with the exception of some aggressive incursions and raids, Christiania has been a police-free zone for most of its existence. Initially, the Danish government opted for a soft strategy, hoping that Christiania would eventually fall apart on its own. In the same era, the autonomous movement in the Netherlands and Germany was fighting major battles to defend their squatted spaces, sometimes defeating the police in the streets or burning down shopping malls in retribution for evictions. In context, the Danish approach made sense. However, Christiania thrived. Some suspect that the government was behind the crisis that threatened the autonomous neighborhood’s existence in 1984 when a motorcycle gang moved into the police-free zone to begin selling hard drugs (soft drugs have always been widely used in Christinia, while addictive drugs are vehemently discouraged).

Earlier in Christiania’s history, there had been a fierce debate about how to deal with the problem of drugs. Over intense opposition, a part of the neighborhood decided to request police assistance, but they soon found that the cops were arresting the users of non-addictive drugs and ignoring or even protecting the proliferation of hard drugs. After that, Christiania decided to keep the police out, and their autonomy was well established by the time the motorcycle gang moved in. The gangsters thought they had picked an easy target: a neighborhood of hippies who not only disavowed making use of the police, they actively kept the police out. These drug-pushers, however, had fallen for capitalist mythology, which presents us all as isolated individuals, vulnerable to organized delinquents, and therefore in need of the greatest protection racket of them all, the State. Christiania residents banded together, exercising the same principle of solidarity that was at work in all the other aspects of their lives, fought back, and kicked the motorcycle gang out, using a combination of sabotage, public meetings, pressure, and direct confrontation.

It is no coincidence that the same tools and capacities that allow us to fight back and free ourselves from policing are also the ones we need to protect ourselves from the forms of harm that capitalist democracies prosecute under the rubric of “crime”. Crime and police are two sides of the same coin. They perpetuate each other, and they each rely on a vulnerable, atomized society. A healthy society would have no need for police, no more than it would lock people in cages and hide its problems out of sight rather than deal with the conflicts and deficiencies that led to an act of harm being committed in the first place.

The mutual relationship between police and crime was exquisitely revealed during the popular uprising in Oaxaca in 2006. In June of that year, police viciously attacked the massive encampment staged annually by striking teachers. But the teach ers fought back tooth and nail, quickly joined by many neighbors. They pushed police out of Oaxaca City, which remained autonomous for five months along with large parts of the countryside. People built barricades, which became an important space for socialization as well as self-defense, and they organized topiles, an indigenous tradition that provided volunteers to fight back against police and paramilitaries as well as to look out for fires, acts of robbery, or assault.

The defenders of Oaxaca soon learned that the police were releasing people from their prisons on the condition that they go into the city to commit crimes. In protecting their neighborhoods against these acts, the topiles did not function like Western police forces. They patrolled unarmed, they were volunteers, and they did not have a prerogative to arrest people or impose their will, the way cops do. Upon coming across a robbery, arson, or assault, their function was not only that of first responders, but also to call on the neighbors so everyone could respond collectively. With such a structure, it would be impossible to enforce a legal code against an activity with popular participation. In other words, the topiles could stop a stranger who was robbing the store of a local, working class person (as were many of the neighborhood stores in Oaxaca), but they couldn’t have stopped the neighbors themselves from looting a store they already had an antagonistic, classist relationship with, as was the case in Ferguson.

People in Oaxaca also had to defend themselves from police and paramilitaries, and they did so for five months. The topiles and many others were unarmed. They had to fight back with rocks, fireworks, and molotov cocktails, many of them getting shot in the process. Their bravery allowed hundreds of thousands of people to live in freedom for five months, in a police-free, government-free zone, experimenting with the self-organization of their lives on social, economic, and cultural levels. All the beautiful aspects of the Oaxaca commune are inseperable from their violent struggle against police, involving barricades, slingshots, molotov cocktails, and thousands of people who faced down armed opponents, over a dozen of them giving their lives in the process. In the end, the Mexican state had to send in the military as the only way to crush this flourishing pocket of autonomy.

If we learn from examples like Christiania, Oaxaca, and Ferguson itself, we can fight for a world without police and everything they represent, beginning here and now by creating blocks, neighborhoods, or even entire cities that are at least temporarily police-free zones. Within these spaces we can finally experiment and practice with solutions to all the other interrelated forms of oppression that plague us.

There is something beautiful about people finding the courage to fight back against a more powerful enemy, and people also flourish in surprising ways when they liberate space and take the power to organize their own lives. Neither of these things can be overemphasized. But neither should we romanticize. In the streets of Ferguson and other liberated spaces, much of the ugliness that infuses our society rears its head. But dealing with what had previously been invisible or normalized is an inevitable part of any healing process, and our society is nothing if not sick. Calamities like uprisings and riots can be important catalysts in processes of social healing, and liberated spaces, by forcefully casting aside the previous regime’s norms and relationships, that only functioned to reproduce and invisibilize all the ongoing forms of harm, can give us the opportunity to create new, healthier patterns, and engage in conversations that previously had been impossible. Empowering ourselves to fight back against those who have traumatized us, like the police, can be an important step in upsetting oppressive relations, healing from trauma, and restoring healthy social relations.

This is, however, a dangerous proposition. Fighting back against the police, especially shooting back at them, as was happening in Ferguson, is not a safe activity. Change is never safe. And if we can successfully overcome the police to create a liberated zone, the State will eventually send in the military. Are the soldiers still loyal enough, after these last wars, to open fire on us? Has enough been done to encourage dissension in the ranks, or is the government firmly in control? There is only one way to find out.

It is understandable that many people would not want to face the extreme risks involved with uprooting the oppressions that grip our society. There is nothing wrong with being afraid, so long as you have the courage to admit it. Some people, however, do a great disservice by muddying the waters with myopic proposals that have no hope of making an actual difference.

In the streets, we need to learn how to seize space, to make sure that those who fight back are never isolated, to make collective responses possible so no one has to react in an individual, suicidal way again, and to build a struggle that has room for young and old, for the peaceful and the bellicose, for those who know how to fight and those who know how to heal. It will be a long process, and in the meantime, there is a great need to speak loud and clear about a world without police, so everyone will know there is another way, beyond the false alternatives of obedience or ineffectual reform.

Peter Gelderloos has participated in various initiatives to support prisoners and push the police out of our neighborhoods. He is the author of several books, including Anarchy Works and The Failure of Nonviolence. 

He is a comrade and friend of Void Network from 2007 until today

source: http://www.counterpunch.org/2014/12/29/a-world-without-police/

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The United States is a bizarre and dangerous country, a nation with “sociopathic tendencies riddled throughout its institutionally racist society.” Like a psychopath unfazed by other people’s pain, the general American (white) population appears “completely desensitized to what should be seen as a massive, one sided, blood bath” committed in their name.
“They expect the majority of us not to connect crimes like the murder of Trayvon Martin to the crimes of murdering Afghan and Iraqi children via airstrikes, drone strikes, night raids, and war in general.”
A serial killer is a person who kills multiple people within a period of time—-their motivation is often predicated on some sort of psychological gratification. And mass murderers usually murder multiple victims in the same place at the same time. This is often done by an individual, or more. These two profiles fit America and her various organs, almost perfectly. Since the inception of this white settler state (America), it has worked hard to perfect its serial killing ways, especially when murdering people of color. Whether systematically instituting genocide on the Indigenous people of Turtle Island (North America) or killing tens of millions (conservatively) of enslaved Africans – it made no difference to the European barbarians that initiated the bloodbath. And in 2012 it makes no difference whether it is a 17 year old black boy from Florida, named Trayvon Martin, who was murdered in cold blood by a neighborhood “watchman”, or 16 Afghan civilians mass slaughtered by a member (and his accomplices) of the US military – America consumes lives with a voracious appetite. America has a particular taste for non-white lives. This country devours people of color.


America has never allowed its artificially manufactured (and stolen) borders to prevent it from initiating killing sprees. A simple look at the mass carnage caused by US military campaigns of aggression, the world over, will irrefutably highlight that fact. And when America kills its victims (men, women and children), it, like most serial killers, shows little or no remorse. It is adept at justifying its crimes against humanity. However, the US rarely sees its inhumane and violent actions as crimes of any sort. America has sociopathic tendencies riddled throughout its institutionally racist society. If America had even one iota of remorse for the countless lives it has taken (most being people of color), it would have stopped its murderous ways a long time ago. Libya, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iraq are merely recent examples of America’s reckless, yet calculated, killing sprees. The US government is built to uphold imperialism, among an amalgam of nefarious characteristics – this country’s military is a most powerful tool at its disposal.


“This country devours people of color.”


The civilians they murder are deemed “collateral damage”. Over 90 percent of persons killed in US military “engagements” since Vietnam are, in fact, civilians. Those totals, in the case of Iraq, hover right around one million killed. Americans, by and large, are completely desensitized to what should be seen as a massive, one sided, blood bath. Americans, however, are easily programmed and will virtually fall for whatever propaganda is thrown their way. Most Americans are not able to see beyond the coordinated program of indoctrination they have received since childhood. They have been trained not to critically think; therefore they accept almost whatever messages that are methodically presented to them.
In March 2012 Americans, like the rest of the world, were fed a heaping helping of bullshit, otherwise known as Kony 2012. Besides they fact that Kony 2012 is a well-produced psychological operation aimed at reinforcing US military operations throughout Central and Eastern Africa, it is blatantly hypocritical. If most Americans were not so indoctrinated with “American Exceptionalism,” they would understand a few basic things regarding their own mass murdering government. The US government and its military have taken far more lives of children of color than Lord’s Resistance Army “leader”, Joseph Kony, could ever dream of.
Through deadly sanctions on countries like Zimbabwe and Iraq, the US has ripped the life away from innumerable children. Through military engagements of imperialism and brutal aggression, America has slaughtered innocent civilians in places like Panama, Iraq, Cambodia, Afghanistan, and Libya – to name a few. Where are the white liberal reactionaries, like Invisible Children, when it comes to speaking out against the destruction of children from these countries? Where is the 30-minute, Hollywood production styled video detailing the role America has played in committing crimes against humanity and why it should be brought to justice? Where are their tears of sorrow and anger demanding that the selective International Criminal Court bring US government officials, from multiple presidential administrations (including the Obama administration), to the Hague?


“Over 90 percent of persons killed in US military “engagements” since Vietnam are, in fact, civilians.”


Invisible Children and organizations of their ilk are frauds and supporters of US military campaigns of murder. That is why these con-artists will say nothing about the mass murder of 16 Afghan civilians (including 9 children) carried out by Staff Sgt. Robert Bale (and his accomplices). Staff Sargent Robert Bale was trained by the most fierce and effective killing machine known to man—the US military. Actions like his were routinely carried out by US soldiers during the Vietnam War. The precedent has been established that if you are US military personnel and you do something like that, you will most likely get away with it, just as American police officers regularly get away with killing unarmed black and brown people. Even though the thuggish so-called “neighborhood watchman” that killed our young brother Trayvon Martin in cold blood was not a real police officer, his actions were not unlike that of many American police. The institutionally racist and lethal US system of policing facilitates a culture that allows cops to kill unarmed men of color. The excessively flawed and corrupt judicial system, then allows these police officers to get away with it. The American prison industrial complex feasts on black and brown people, yet detests the taste of racist corrupt cops.
George Zimmerman’s actions in killing Trayvon Martin were similar to the actions of the police officer that, in 2010, murdered Aiyana Stanley Jones, a seven year old African/black girl, in Detroit. His actions were also not unlike that of murderous police who killed the likes of Sean Bell, Timothy Stansbury, and Oscar Grant, to name a few of the countless African/black people that have been murdered within the US, by its state sponsored “law enforcement”.
Those who are surprised by the recent murder of our young brother Trayvon Martin are either delusional or disingenuous, including US president Barack Obama. When president Obama recently said, “I think all of us have to do some soul searching to figure out how does something like this happen,” he knows very well how something like the coldblooded murder of an Africa/black boy happens. It happens in America all the damn time! How quickly Obama supporters forget that it was he who refused to send a US delegation to a United Nations Conference on Racism (Durban Review Conference). Perhaps president Obama believes institutional racism had nothing to do with the death of our brother Trayvon Martin and the non-arrest of the thug (George Zimmerman) that killed him. If president Obama believes that, he is as delusional as many of his supporters who cling to the myth that he actually gives a damn about the black community.


“The institutionally racist and lethal US system of policing facilitates a culture that allows cops to kill unarmed men of color.”
It was candidate Obama in the summer of 2008 that justified the wrongful verdict that allowed the police officers who murdered Sean Bell, to be fully acquitted. Obama said, “The judge has made his ruling, and we’re a nation of laws, so we respect the verdict that came down.” He made these comments as rightfully infuriated black people were peacefully protesting the unjust verdict. He made these comments as if he had the authority to speak on behalf of African/black people. Obama was concerned with his presidential campaign and making sure he did not make white liberals too uncomfortable. Those people had every right to peacefully rally and protest as they did.
Despite Obama making those callous statements about the Sean Bell murder verdict, he can now display himself as if he has been a strident opponent to the kinds of crimes that are routinely committed upon African/black people in America. He can do this because he knows very well that most of his supporters back him unconditionally, regardless of what he does. If they (many Obama supporters) gave a damn about justice, they would have been protesting his presidency long ago, especially given the fact that he has continued and expanded the war mongering ways of his dim witted predecessor, George W. Bush. Obama, like the American “justice” system, is banking on these rallies in protest of the murder of our young brother Trayvon Martin to die out after some time, even if the murderous thug (George Zimmerman) goes free.
There are protests each time a person of color is killed in cold blood by the police, and rightfully so. However, each time, after a few rallies, the chants of injustice grow fainter by the day. Some of us seem to forget that the same old system, and society, that makes these crimes possible, is still intact. Those that support and uphold this system can behave like chameleons as if they are genuinely concerned with the systematic killing of people of color, like Trayvon Martin. They do this while playing significant roles in upholding a system of human destruction. They expect the majority of us not to connect crimes like the murder of Trayvon Martin to the crimes of murdering Afghan and Iraqi children via airstrikes, drone strikes, night raids, and war in general. The same way we see Trayvon Martin as our brother, is the same way we must see children from other countries, whose lives are being lost each time the US government’s military decides to bomb their villages in to oblivion. And we must (as a collective) be much more consistent in our work, before and after, injustices that fall upon children like Trayvon Martin and Aiyana Stanley Jones.


“Each time, after a few rallies, the chants of injustice grow fainter by the day.”
If we become more consistent and organized with our work we may be able to prevent these murders from ever happening. However, if we don’t, the kind of scum that uphold and operate their state sponsored crimes, within this system, will continue to do so—unabated. We all have a role to play in confronting this unforgiving and destructive system. Raising awareness is imperative (rallies, utilizing progressive media, community forums, teach-ins, etc.). Mobilization and organizing is crucial (domestic and international legal tactics). Consistent and uncompromising political actions will be paramount. Developing and sustaining strategies is vital. Committing ourselves to put an end to institutional racism, white supremacy and imperialism must be a goal we seek. These are a few of the types of strategies that must be employed, community by community and state by state. They all must be done consistently and by a critical mass.


Remember that only one percent of the US population actively participated in the Civil rights Movement. It won’t be easy, however – freedom, justice, and equality seldom are. I can’t think of any better way to honor the lives of young people like Trayvon Martin and the countless Afghan and Iraqi children who have perished because of American military aggression and sanctions. There can be no justice without peace. Right now the US is facilitating violence and injustice throughout the globe (including within its own borders). Untold lives depend on our unrelenting commitment towards tangibly creating a society founded, not on injustice and inequality, but on peace, justice, and equality—-FOR ALL.


Solomon Comissiong is an educator, community activist, author, public speaker and the host of the Your World News media collective (www.yourworldnews.org). He can be reached at: solo@yourworldnews.org.


Source : 
http://www.blackagendareport.com/content/america-global-serial-killer


Found at:
http://www.uruknet.info/?p=m86881&hd=&size=1&l=e  

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