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Title: Without a Trace Author: Anonymous Date: 2003 Language: en Topics: anonymity, attack, class war, insurrection, subversion Source: Retrieved on September 12, 2010 from http://www.eco-action.org/dod/no10/trace.htm Notes: Published in Do or Die! â Voices from the Ecological Resistance (Issue 10), 2003.
Dominant culture rarely interests itself in evidence other than that
which shows willing and enthusiastic complicity from its subjects. Acts
of refusal and revolt are effaced from the historical record when they
expose the tenuous control of authority. Even when they do appear,
presence, motives and behaviour are all mediated through the lens of
elite partiality which works to deny that we are capable of generating
the ideas and means of our own liberation.
That much most of us recognise; it is the premise of class history
developed in the 1960s by the likes of EP Thompson, Christopher Hill and
Eric Hobsbawn. But theirs is also a particularist history, focused as it
is on the same level of public appearance as that of the Establishment.
Just as real life is elsewhere than on television, so the history of
resistance is at the very least written between the lines of the
official record of leaders, followers and climatic events. In the
interests of self-preservation, the ruling class and its official
recorders â journalists and other such vermin whose social position
depends upon the maintenance of class society â invariably work to keep
attention only on a protests leaders (whether real or imaginary) and
particularly on those with superior status or privilege.
But as well as those who lack the influence to have their words and
actions recognised as important are those who have no intention
whatsoever to be identified. It is this realm of individual and
collective refusal that has proved the most resilient to exposure in the
historical record.
A vast area of active political life is ignored for the simple fact that
it takes place at a level we rarely recognise as political. Trained by
the mass media to applaud the spectacular action rather than the
incremental and prudent, all is in the appearance, the image of revolt
as reproduced through that same mass media. But much political activity
is elaborated among an intentionally restricted public that excludes or
is hidden from the gaze of authority. So it is not only that the
historical record is kept by elites, for elites, but that subversives
themselves have an interest in concealment of their activities (for
starters, this gives us greater personal security and self control).
Such acts as these were never meant to be recordable, and they were
often successful only insofar as they were invisible. The most
successful poisoning of class oppressors, for example, are those never
known as such. Just like the perfect crime, the subversive act seeks to
escape all detection, cover its tracks and avoid appearance in the
archives; for the perpetrators to strike (anonymously) again. Only those
who wish to be martyrs, self-publicists or media personalities would
wish to wait around to offer their names and have their picture taken.
Though the point, by its very nature, is impossible of proof, apparent
docility is the measure of subterfuge, and is only broken by those
crises of ruling class confidence that allow insurrectionary
breakthrough. Our ability to capitalise on these favourable moments must
be understood in the context of a long term struggle that is only
successful insofar as it is invisible.
So a view of politics focused either on the official and formal
relations of power (the command performances of consent), or on open
protest and rebellion, represents a far too narrow concept of political
life. The body of historical knowledge that we must grapple with is for
the most part only a record of that which has broken through to the
public sphere. There are undoubtedly important instructive events and
occurrences among them which can give strength, through popular memory,
to protest and resistance. But the lens of hindsight and reportage is a
distorted mirror. âHistoryâ records what is most spectacular and most
easily located: the start, the peaks, the decisive break with the past.
We see the climax, the (only possibly decisive) invasion of public
space. As such it implodes the development of movements of refusal and
social transformation, for it freezes our attention on a single frame in
time, disconnected from that which made it possible. As Dickens remarks
in Barnaby Rudge; âWe note the harvest more than the seed time.â Despite
the claims of the media, these moments almost never come from nowhere;
they are, rather, the acceleration of continuing processes through
timely public manifestation. The agitation and preparation that precede
and underpin the demonstrative act are always beginning and never end.
It is at the point of certain rupture that the perpetrators of everyday
acts of refusal consider it safe to appear on the public stage. Unless
provoked by the State into desperate measures, open collective defiance
is rarely undertaken unless it is practical and likely to succeed. Until
that time, the mechanisms, structures and struggles which necessarily
precede it remain a closed book.
It is the accumulation of âpettyâ acts of defiance and refusal that make
critical upsurges possible. They are not a substitute for revolution but
a necessary condition for it. That is why the insurrectionary moment
invariably escalates so rapidly â âas if from nowhereâ â and is why
revolutionary elites (the clownish ringmasters of the vanguard) always
find themselves hopelessly overtaken.
An understanding of previous movements for change is not merely an
exercise in historical interpretation. Knowledge gained is the means by
which we can understand how to take effective action, ourselves, today.
When we recognise what has been, we can plan for what might be.
Movements that attempt to create a groundswell of opposition by
initiating public (usually publicity seeking) protests will always meet
with general indifference not because most people donât care, but
because we are a lot more realistic about the utility of such
initiatives than the protestors.
The art of the possible is discovered rather in those anonymous,
immediate (but not by any means spontaneous) short run collective
actions that apply the principles of guerrilla warfare to everyday life.
Cryptic and, above all, surreptitious actions are best adapted to resist
an opponent who can probably win any open confrontation. We must be ever
ready to melt away as soon as faced with unfavourable odds.
Spontaneous forms of popular action can be, and are, deliberately chosen
because of the tactical advantages for all those involved. What might be
called âlow intensity class warfareâ is always pressing, testing and
probing the boundaries of the permissible â so as to take swift
advantage of any fissures that may open up in moments of crisis. It is
not then our âincapacityâ to sustain permanent political organisation
(most sensible people vote with their feet and avoid these formations
like the plague) but that the choice of fleeting, direct action
represents a popular tactical wisdom developed in conscious response to
the political constraints realistically faced. Anonymity and avoidance
of formal organisations are enabling modes of resistance, a measure of
our understanding of both the danger and the futility of spectacular
mediated action.
While such action precludes formal organisation, it most certainly does
not eschew effective co-ordination, achieved through the informal
networks of affinity, kinship, traditional and intentional community,
workplace and, yes, even perhaps ritual and religious practice. Socially
embedded networks, developed at the level of the everyday, are as opaque
to the authorities as they are indispensable to subversive activity. Let
whatâs left of the Left engage in monumental plans for grandiose
national â now even global â federations. (Federations and movements of
what? Parades before the worlds TV cameras? No thanks.)
Effective subversion must be organised out of the gaze of domination, in
a sequestered physical, cultural or social location; those areas that
are least patrolled by authority. (Anarchist and eco-activist meetings
are mostly conventions for police informers, wannabe reformist
politicians and loonies.)
For those who look only on the surface of things, those seduced by the
spectacular image of defiance, the strategy posed here might be seen as
a retreat from âconventionalâ class struggle. But all things are
precisely not as they seem; this is the very form that traditional
successful class struggle has always taken. The clandestine, apparently
innocuous, maybe even anti-political assembly provides the fluidity, the
guerrilla mobility, for effective subversive action.
For us, there are immediate uses and gains in formations such as these;
no leaders to round up, no hierarchical organisation to wield power over
us in our name, no membership lists to investigate, no manifestos to
denounce, no mediators to meet (and then join) the power holding elite.
No public claims are made, no symbolic lines are drawn, no press
statements to be deliberately misconstrued and trivialised by
journalists. No platforms or programmes which the intellectuals can
hijack as their exclusive property, no flag or banner to which to pledge
a crass and sectarian allegiance.
Then what concrete forms will our subversion take? Well, the forms it
already takes; theft, feigned ignorance (all the better to dissemble our
intentions), shirking or careless labour, foot-dragging and the go-slow,
zero work (with a little preparation we might come to enjoy the next
depression), secret trade and production for sale (for barter â or even
better for free), squatting, defaulting on all payments for anything,
evasion of taxes, destruction of official records, sabotage and arson,
assassination, impromptu riot (for the hell of it) and the detournment
of State sponsored celebration into moments of joyous destruction.
If we were to undertake all this with the objective of attaining a
complete self reliance in the satisfaction of all our needs and desires,
we may well find it sufficient for the move from surviving within this
system, to superseding it.
Let the daily celebration of life be but a dress rehearsal for
insurrection. It is the accumulation of small, instrumental acts that
will bring authority to its knees. Let us rise!