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Title: The Master’s Tools
Author: Tom Nomad
Date: 2013
Language: en
Topics: warfare, insurgency, insurrectionary, strategy, war, Little Black Cart
Source: Retrieved on 23rd May 2021 from https://libcom.org/library/masters-tools-warfare-insurgent-possibility
Notes: *The Master's Tools* was originally published by Little Black Cart and can be found in book form https://littleblackcart.com/index.php?dispatch=products.view&product_id=384.

Tom Nomad

The Master’s Tools

Preface

The following collection of essays began their current evolution around

2005, when some anarchists began a concentrated study of police tactics,

largely born out of necessity in the moment, but becoming over time a

focus for some of us. The first of the following texts, A Primer On

Police Crowd-Con- trol Tactics and Frameworks was released in 2007, in

the lead-up to the October Rebellion demonstrations in Washington DC. It

has been updated numerous times over the years, appearing under a

variety of titles depending on the context of its distribution, which

almost always occurred person-to-person at gatherings and workshops. At

the time that these initial writings were being done anarchist praxis

and direct action still operated under the assumption of the primacy of

mass street actions. As the summit era ended, the understanding of

street actions became more nuanced and these studies on tactics moved

beyond looking at crowd control and police procedure into discussions

and research projects about policing on a broad and theoretical level,

attempting to construct ways to understand particular police operations

in particular moments in the most nuanced way possible, to find a way

out of the tactical impasse that seemed to have gripped the scene after

2010 (a situation not helped by the problematic tactical assumptions and

police collaboration that saturated much of Occupy).

When people started moving away from the assumption of street actions,

and beyond mass movements (and their imposed, policed pacifism), they

began to focus on isolated acts of property destruction, and approached

property destruction as a primary objective, in isolation of the

tactical effectiveness of these actions in reference to broader tactical

dynamics. Combined with a mentality centered on affectivity, the

subjective desires that lead to action and the affective benefits of

action led to a form of analysis completely separating the dynamics of

the action from the terrain of the action, and totally eviscerating any

ability to even begin to discuss effectiveness. Oddly enough, even

though this approach to action began its trajectory with a rejection of

pacifism, these people came to replicate the exact same structure; their

actions became isolated from their dynamics and context and became

nothing but the manifestation of some concept, some ethical or

subjective imperative. Far from a conscious engagement with insurgency,

action became reduced to some odd politics of complaint, directly

replicating activist complaint, but through the medium of broken glass.

This question is dealt with in the second essay, “Beyond Property

Destruction,” which was released in the summer of 2012 around the

Radical Convergence in Philadelphia.

All of this is an attempt to push tactical discourses and narratives

into a discourse of effectiveness, and this necessarily means a

fundamental shift away from activism and into a mentality grounded in

insurgency, a tactical, immediate, and material confrontation with the

state, or its material possibility, the police. But, to begin to engage

with the materiality of police and policing we need to shift away from a

tendency in radical thought to analyze police based on a

sociological-historical framework, in which spatially and temporally

disparate moments are brought together into a single narrative of the

police as such. When this occurs we obscure the particular dynamics of

police actions in a particular time and space, and fail to have the

discussion of what insurgency and effective action could look like in

that terrain. What is Policing?, a new essay that appears at the end of

this collection, engages this question through a broader discussion of

insurgency and tactical fluidity, the necessity of thinking of police as

a mobile logistics of force attempting to occupy all possible space,

which necessarily fails, leaving gaps in coverage and conflict in its

wake; this conflict and these gaps and the very impossibility of total

policing, and thus the very possibility of insurgency.

Following the main body of the text there are also three appendices that

build off some of the narratives presented in the main text. We Give A

Shit! is an analysis of the actions that occurred during the Pittsburgh

G20 demonstrations, and an analysis of how police logistics were almost

stretched to the point of rupture. This piece began as an internal

document to a single cluster, as a working paper contributing to a

series of wider analyses. “Tactical Terrain Analysis: A How-To Guide”

discusses ways to framework a nu- anced analysis of the terrain

structured through action and policing, and aims to provide some tools

and present some methods that have been used in this sort of analysis in

the past. The final appendix is an introductory reading list for those

who want to move on in this sort of analysis, which I fully encourage.

No single text could possibly fully discuss the nuance and conflict of

tactical terrain and how to understand it: this text is best approached

as one of innumerable possible narratives. The more we engage in this

sort of analysis, the more eyes and ears we bring to it, the more

detailed our analysis can be and the more effective our actions can be.

But, it is not just a conceptual shift that must occur, away from

hypothetical discussions of theory and into a focus on the materiality

of conflict and insurgency, but also a tactical shift, away from the

politics of complaint, even if that complaint is amplified through

breaking stuff, and into a more focused discourse based in effectiveness

and the immediacy of insurgency.

Introduction

Once again, many of us are finding ourselves in the midst of a tactical

impasse. Following the final gasps of the summit era, and the failures

of Occupy, there is a question of where to go next, but on many levels

this is the wrong question to ask, or rather the wrong plane to engage

the question on. In attempting to depart from the narratives that have

been developed to discuss tactics within radical scenes there is a

tendency to reduce the question of the tactical dynamics that we face to

simple dichotomies and singular scenarios which can have simple and

clear answers, but if we can learn anything about warfare, it is

anything but singular and simple. The following essays trace a possible

line of flight out of this impasse, and a move from a traditional

approach to tactics that we often find within radical scenes to a

fundamentally different way of attempting to understand the immediacy

and materiality of conflict and warfare itself. Specifically, the

following essays are centered around an attempt to address two

fundamental problems in current tactical discourse that prevent us from

engaging in tactical discourse, with an eye toward the immediacy of

struggle and the effectiveness of action.

The first tendency in current tactical discourse that we see is to focus

all discussions of tactics around a separation between violence and

nonviolence, in which the action becomes an isolated site for the

expression of some magnitude of conceptual content; the action becomes

analyzed through conceptual content, rather than effectiveness. As we

see in Gelderloos and others, whether of a pacifist or insurgent

tendency, it’s common to attempt to essen- tialize tactical discourse,

to speak of immediate and material conflict not as a particular dynamic

that can be engaged on the levels of its particularities, but rather as

an attempt to manifest some transcendental conceptual approach. In

pacifist discourse this appears as an odd sort of ethical discourse, in

which the action and its dynamics are reduced to an isolated action that

becomes a manifestation of a certain quantity of ethical content, ie

whether or not the action is more or less ethical. In the rejection of

this tendency, political violence also ends up becoming a mantra of

sorts, and the rejection of nonviolence became a tactical essentialism

in itself, leading to anarchists differentiating ourselves from others

through our focus on political violence (whether this comes in the form

of direct resistance or property destruction). Thus we began to see some

absurd tactical trajectories, from the attempt to pad-up and confront

police directly (even though this is recognized as suicidal), or in the

fetishization of property destruction, which largely occurs in a vacuum

in the middle of the night, outside of concentrations of conflict. The

attempt has become to manifest some form of violent resistance as a way

to reject pacifism.

Now, rejecting pacifism is fine and good. Pacifism implies an arbitrary

definition of action based on arbitrary conceptual definitions, and

consequent limitations on possible actions (as well as the attempt to

police actions... peace police are still police). But building tactical

narratives around this rejection means that tactics began to be

approached as merely a question of the militancy of fighting, and loses

an important aspect of tactical discourse: the dynamics of conflict and

the relationship of these dynamics to effectiveness. This can be seen in

the fetishism of people like Ted Kaczynski and organizations like Deep

Green Resistance; the absurd assumption that the magnitude and force of

an action, taken against places or people reduced to isolated points, is

somehow the next logical step after the rejection of nonviolence. In

this approach, and in many like it, action is reduced to an expression

of the acceptance or rejection of some ethical imperative, the attempt

to manifest some abstract political ideal, or the attempt to act against

“systems” that are understood as inert and unitary, and in this the

dynamics of policing and movement are completely forgotten. What results

is a fetishization of violent resistance, as if the necessity of direct

conflict is something to be celebrated, rather than a regrettable

reality due to historical dynamics. In this attempt to fetishize the

magnitude of action, the sheer force of isolated actions, we fail to

understand why these campaigns (and others based on similar concepts,

like the Weather Underground and Red Army Faction) ultimately failed to

be effective. In reducing the map to inert and isolated points we fail

to understand what constructs these points as convergences in political

or economic circulation, the policing of circulation itself, the

logistics of organized police force that attempts to structure space, a

logistics that is mobile and logistical. When combined with the

evacuation of everyday life that this form of action requires, what we

are left with is an isolated organization engaged in a frontal conflict

with the state, a conflict that small isolated organizations are highly

likely to lose, and that results in increasing isolation from the

dynamics of conflict, and thus from the ability to amplify the conflict

in time and space—instead increasingly resorting to isolated strikes

that are easily contained. At this point we cease even being able to

discuss these organizations in the framework of insurgency, or an

intentional and conflictual engagement with the dynamics of policing;

the isolation and misunderstandings of these tactical dynamics reduces

them to an odd combination of an activist politics of complaint and

gunpowder.

This simplistic question of violence/nonviolence misses the point of

tactical discourse, and comes to obscure the immediacy of tactical

dynamics, removing our discussions of action from the particularities of

the conditions and dynamics of any specific action. In both

tendencies—approaching action through the absurdities of pacifism, and

rejecting this through a narrative of action-in-itself—the same mistake

is made; tactical dynamics are obscured and effectiveness becomes

impossible to even discuss. We cannot understand conflict separate from

the time and space of this conflict, or separate from the terrain of

conflict, and the ways that conflict can be amplified in space and

policing pushed to the point of rupture, a point also known as

insurrection. In attempting to even posit the question of violence and

nonviolence, transcendental concepts that exist separately from the

immediacy of conflict and effectiveness, come to be the center of the

discussion of tactics, so the discussion ceases to be about tactics or

tactical dynamics, but rather becomes a conceptual discussion of

abstract ethics. In all forms of warfare the tactical dynamics of

conflict exist at a fundamental separation from the ethical questions

that may be asked around these dynamics and the actions one may choose

to take in the midst of warfare. So we have to separate these questions

from one another. Someone may have ethical limitations; these are merely

limitations on the actions that person is willing to perform (and thus

they are a factor in tactical calculation), but cannot restrain tactical

discourses of effectiveness except to the detriment of our ability to

actually fight. To get out of this impasse we are not looking for some

new tactic that everyone can use in all moments, nor some grand strategy

that could be developed: both are impossible. Rather it is a question of

situating the discussion of fighting and warfare in such a way as to

discuss effectiveness at all.

The second tendency is to write about police through a

sociological-historical lens, framed as a discussion of inert and

situationally interchangeable tactics existing in some direct connection

to transcendental political concepts. In radical scenes, much of the

prevailing literature about police exemplify this tendency to discuss

police and policing on a qualitatively conceptual level (as if our

approval or rejection of police ethics has anything to do with police

action), and to frame this discourse around spatially and temporally

disparate events and practices. In this way, we have failed to grasp the

particularity and variance of policing from place to place and time to

time, even within the history of a single department, and even within

the space of a week, a day, or an hour. Policing, if we are to directly

engage with it, cannot be understood in these transcendental and

nonparticular ways, ways that reduce the material dynamics of policing

(as a logistics of conflict that moves through space) to conceptual

questions of approval, disapproval, ethics, and historical forms of

repression. Rather, policing has to be understood on an operational

level, grounded in a particular time and space, and thus on a level that

can inform tactical deployments against policing. If we are to engage in

insurgency, if we are to begin to approach this as a war, rather than as

a pointless activist campaign of complaint, if we are to seize control

of the situation and the conditions of our existences, then this means

coming to terms with the operations of the enemy, and these only occur

in particular and material ways in particular times and places that have

to be understood as such in order to be engaged with effectively. Once

we have made the decision to engage in insurgency, the only remaining

question is tactical, and tactics do not occur in isolation of the

operations of the enemy, but rather in intimate contact and direct

collision with these dynamics.

These two tendencies have resulted in an approach to action in which

discussions of inert principles come into conflict with inert,

conceptual police and policing to form an approach to action that is

completely divorced from any ablility to discuss tactical effectiveness,

and therefore completely unable to discuss insurgency as a material and

immediate conflict with policing. An insurgent approach requires

centering around material effectiveness, and its lack is the point of

generation of our current impasse. To overcome this impasse means

developing a fluid and immediate analysis of the dynamics of conflict

and possible points of effective intervention in these dynamics , and to

develop this as completely separate from the question of how we make

sense of this on a particular level. This means the rejection of both

the concept of some pure, correct analysis of police (that can apply

between moments or between spaces), and of generalized tactics; neither

can be essentialized or made into inert, transcendental concepts.

All of these tendencies have fundamentally prevented any discussion of

the immediacy of conflict and effectiveness within this immediacy,

whether framed within the violence/nonviolence dichotomy or the concept

of grand strategy. All are based on the same tendency to completely

ignore the particularity of tactical dynamics on the ground and the

complete impossibility of making sense of these in some generalized and

true form. In statist military theory a similar dynamic plays itself out

constantly, between fluid understandings of the dynamics of conflict (as

argued through Clausewitz), and attempts to form laws of war (as framed

through Jomini). In the Jominian approach all conflict is reduced to

predictable applications of transcendental rules. Since the advent of

mobile warfare this approach has been catastrophic, since the dynamics

of conflict shift but the understanding of conflict remains static,

leading to an increasing distance between the dynamics and the

understanding of these dynamics. This is not merely a conceptual

question of theory; in dynamic moments there can be no proper theory.

More the problem with Jomin-ian approaches is the fundamental removal of

the discourse of warfare from a discourse on effectiveness, which is

always positioned in a particular time and space constructed with

particular dynamics of conflict. But, just as the military has rejected

Jomin- ianism as unworkable, tendencies in the radical scene to

formalize conflict must collapse as well. We have to come to terms with

the immediacy of the war that we are fighting. And it is a war, a

fundamental and immediate conflict between those we identify as friends

and those we identify as enemies, and until we do so, we will always

remain in our current impasse.

A Primer on Police Crowd-Control Tactics and Frameworks

It seems to make sense to begin this discussion of police crowd-control

tactics with a brief discussion of the the history of this Primer, now

in its third edition, and the thought behind assembling a text like this

(for all its limitations). The project grew out of a series of practical

and conceptual concerns relating to some relatively intense street

confrontations between anarchists and police in the mid-2000s in the

Midwest. Through these experiences a couple things became clear. The

first was that street actions can serve as an antagonistic dynamic in

escalating conflict against the police. Secondly, none of us had any

idea of how to make sense of this, channel it, or think through it,

outside of categories of analysis that we had constructed around our own

experiences (many of which were steeped in the limitations of the

discourse of activism). In other words, the enemy was clear, but we had

no idea how to think about it in ways that could point to more effective

actions.

As a result some of us began to compile and study military and police

documents, trading information and discussing the results of our

research. Around this time we came upon US Army Field Manual 3–19.15,

which serves as the basis of this primer. On researching the history and

use of the manual it became clear that it is a distillation of the basic

concepts and frameworks of analysis for police crowd- control

operations, as well as the basis of crowd- control training for National

Guard and police units before summit demonstrations. Beginning in the

late 1960s, collaboration between the military and local police became

more organized and focused, with SWAT teams being developed as a result

of police forces using equipment from military surplus stockpiles and

training from the US Marine Corp. Since then these collaborations have

become commonplace, with most local police departments training in

paramilitary tactics, using automatic weapons and heavy equipment (like

armored personnel carriers), reorganizing of police departments around

military structures, increasing incorporation of combat veterans into

police departments, and the militarization of operational analysis and

theory. We found a significant amount of cross-pollination between

police and military literature on crowd-control tactics, with FM 3–19.15

forming an important point within this matrix.

The first version of the Primer appeared in the middle of 2007, in the

lead-up to the October Rebellion demonstrations in Washington DC, and

was primarily used as a training material to accompany on- the-ground

police crowd-control tactics workshops, presented by some of us at the

National Conference on Organized Resistance in 2006. Since this initial

version the thinking behind the manual has changed dramatically, moving

it from a practical pocket guide to a baseline discussion of the

methodology and frameworks of analysis for police operations. Primary to

this shift has been a move away from an approach to street actions as a

more important site of struggle, or as a unique form of struggle in

itself.

The effectiveness of street actions, in their common form in 21^(st)

Century America, is questionable for a variety of reasons. Firstly,

street actions tend to be planned around events where police are

concentrated to begin with; we tend to default to attempting to take

action in moments where there is some central event, which means police

know about it and will be monitoring it. Usually, though there are

exceptions, these sorts of tactical terrains are not conducive to

effective action; in the calculus of concentrated force we are clearly

at a disadvantage. To the degree that street actions became more and

more effective by 2009, this was to the degree that we used asymmetric

tactics of mobility and speed, a lesson learned after repeated failure.

Secondly, these actions have limited resonance. They are preplanned

confrontations, generally occurring in isolated commercial areas of

major cities. As such, they are easily contained and don’t escalate a

conflict beyond the time of the events themselves. Now, this does not

mean that these events are useless, but it is important to understand

the limitations of street actions as currently understood.

The potential of conflict within this context comes merely from the

concentration of action and resistance itself. However, this spatially

concentrated conflict is not necessarily the same as a situation in

which there is numerical mass (such as political demonstrations), and

definitely not limited to situations in which there is some central

event that people want to make a (generally useless) political point

about. At its core, the street action is nothing but a material

collection of events that generate more or less conflict and stretch

police logistics more or less to a point of rupture. During the G20 in

Pittsburgh this point of rupture was hit, with police operations

beginning to lose any semblance of coherence. But given the limited time

frame and the focus on the meetings and talk, the potential opened up in

this rupture was not realized, with the police getting the night and

following morning to reinforce, resupply, and reorganize.

What has remained consistent throughout the development of this Primer

are its potential uses, both practical and theoretical. Practically,

though large scale street actions are not the most conducive terrains

for insurgency, many of us do still find ourselves there. Regardless of

how hard many of us try to move outside of the “movement” context, that

context remains a strategic site of intervention; certainly many of us

saw Occupy that way. We also have to remember that street actions, and

police crowd- control tactics, are not limited to demonstration

contexts, but also operate in street riots, sports riots, public events

like block parties, and so on. Theoriti- cally, changing the focus from

just mass street actions into more general police and military

literature and histories, has made clear the reciprocal relationship

between tactics for controlling crowds and tactics and logistical

frameworks deployed on the street on any given day. The question of the

“crowd” is merely a question of concentration, but not a difference of

kind. Policing, regardless of the situation, is always the attempt to

project force into all possible spaces in all possible moments. In

situations of concentrated conflict, or potentially concentrated

conflict, the methodologies become more defined, the formations and

structures of force become more concentrated, but the basic frameworks

of police logistics and deployment continue to function along similar

lines. At its core, crowd-control tactics address the fundamental

problematic of all policing operations, the deceleration of conflict in

time and space through a process formed around a deployment of force in

space; it is the attempt to use a deployment of conflict to decelerate

conflict, to use war to generate perpetual peace. Central to this

attempt is the mitigation of uncertainty in the process of operating in

space, attempting to achieve an impossible material certainty of action.

Without being able to operate in all time and space simultaneously

policing, whether in concentrated terrains of conflict (as crowd-control

tactics), or in less concentrated resistant terrain (as everyday tactics

of surveillance and patrol), policing always must project its

operational terrain as far as possible, as consistently as possible.

This becomes infinitely more difficult the more fragmented and resistant

terrain is or becomes. Fragmentation and resistance is caused by the

concentration and speed of action within that terrain. As such,

policing, and this is clear in crowd-control tactics, revolves around

projecting through space, containing action within space, and moving

through space. Without this projection, containment, and movement,

policing ceases to function outside of zones of immediate presence. For

example, if we look at any large police force, break it down by shift,

subtract those with desk jobs, and compare the resulting number to the

space that is policed within the department’s jurisdiction, it is easy

to see how spatially limited police actually are. This spatial

limitation is then supplemented by surveillance cameras, patrol routes,

citizen snitch organizations (Neighborhood Watch, auxiliary police,

etc), and informants, to structure a general sense of deterrence. But

for all the money that police departments are given every year, and for

all the fancy equipment that they buy with this money, for all the tacit

and coerced support that they may have, their ability to project is

still incredibly limited. And it is increasingly limited the more

resistance to these operations there is. In order to be able to make

sense of this projection through time and space, and the logistical

movements involved in this projection, policing relies on a certain

legibility and predictability, an ability to see and limit the

possibilities of action within a space. Much of the material presented

in FM 3–19.15, other policing literature, and this Primer centers around

the process police use to make sense of space, and the tactical

operations that may result from this calculus.

It is only when we understand this process of making-legible and the

projection of logistical operations that we can begin to analyze this in

particular moments, and to disrupt this process. Just as in insurgent

operations against counterinsurgency op- erations—and all policing is a

counterinsurgency operation—the ability to engage in effective actions

requires an ability to maintain movement, a speed of action, an

understanding of the tactics deployed by police, and the terrain that

this deployment occurs within. But, just as police manuals and

literature can only form a framework for an approach to actual tactical

deployments, all of which are embedded within a particular dynamic of

conflict, this Primer can only exist similarly: a point of departure for

focused analysis of particular tactical terrains. The purpose of this

Primer is to begin a process of developing our own ways of making sense

of this terrain, and in doing so, to plan actions that disrupt the

logistics of the projection of policing, pushing them to a point of

rupture, a point also known as insurrection.

The Array of Forces

Before we launch into a discussion of how the police make sense of

situational dynamics of conflict and what we can learn from this process

(both oppositionally and directly), we have to discuss how forces may be

dispersed in space, and the possible limitations of forces. Unlike most

other governments, the United States does not possess a formal national

police force tasked with tactical operations. Rather, the American

police terrain is characterized by mission-specific federal forces with

distinct limitations and tasks, supported by a wide array of local,

county, and state-wide bodies that carry out tactical operations

involving physical force. For tactical analysis, this has both

advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, this dispersal of forces,

complete with layers of administrative limitations and fragmented

command structures, makes tactical analysis much more difficult, and

shifts the frame of reference to local operations, local commanders, and

so on. On the other hand, these divisions provide a series of tactical

advantages on the street, allowing for a much more specific, focused

analysis, with a much narrower scope, meaning more detail and

thoroughness.

The following is a brief description of a series of forces that one may

come across in conflictual terrains, some of their limits, and their

scope of responsibility.

FBI—The Federal Bureau of Investigations primarily exists to investigate

violations of federal law, with their jurisdiction traditionally limited

to the domestic United States. However, this is loosely defined, with

the FBI now investigating overseas as well as gathering intelligence

(specifically regarding domestic resistance movements or groups). This

trajectory was set early on in the history of the Bureau, specifically

under the leadership ofj. Edgar Hoover. The Bureau grew out of the

Bureau of Investigations (founded in the wake of the assassination of

William McKinley) to monitor political radicals. Since its founding in

1932, the FBI has been engaged in subverting political organizations,

entrapping radicals, and sowing internal conflict between various

political groups. Given the scope of the FBI (with over 14,000 agents

and an $8 billion a year budget), and their past activities, we always

have to assume that FBI surveillance is present.

Federal Protective Service—The FPS is currently a part of the Department

of Homeland Security. Their jurisdiction is formally limited to federal

installations, including office buildings, recruitment centers,

courthouses, and so on. Places like Washington DC, dense with federal

installations, have blurry lines ofjurisdiction.

Department of Homeland Security—The DHS was created in November 2002 as

a fusion of roughly two dozen federal agencies. In its current form DHS

is responsible for all federal security operations within the domestic

United States, and includes the Coast Guard, Secret Service, Immigration

and Naturalization Service, Customs, Federal Protective Service,

Transportation Security Administration, and the Federal Law Enforcement

Training Center, among others.

JTTF—The Joint Terrorism Task Force is an alliance between the feds,

mostly the FBI, and local police, including intelligence work. This

structure, which often operates through local Fusion Centers (offices

organized to gather, analyze and exchange information between agencies),

also serves a role in coordinating operations between agencies. These

structures were created for coordination, but also to preserve the

secrecy of this coordination. Fusion Centers and JTTF consortiums

maintain their own documents, and because their operations do not fall

under any specific entity, there is no body with which to file a request

for the release of documents. This gives these documents de facto

classified status.

Local Police—These are the most common cops that confront us: beat cops,

riot squads, SWAT teams, detectives. Local police are differentiated

from other forces in the following ways. Firstly, they tend to be more

limited in numbers; local police forces usually exist in smaller numbers

than military units. Secondly, they are under local jurisdiction and

operate through local command structures. This means both that the

operational terrain of local police is limited to local administrative

borders (although there are exceptions), and that they have more

consistent engagement with the terrain, both political and social, of a

local area. Thirdly, local police are trained to operate through a

doctrine of escalation of force, and tend to be less well equipped than

National Guard and military units, which are primarily trained for

deadly combat roles.

Military—The Posse Comitatus Act prevents the US Military from being

used in domestic operations (except for in DC) unless a State of

Insurrection is claimed over an area by the President. The military can

also loan equipment to local and state forces if requested. Such a

request was made during the Rodney King Uprising in LA and for New

Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. The legal barriers have been revised to

only include law enforcement, meaning that US troops can be used for

crowd control as long as they do not make arrests (recently military

police have been spotted at DUI checkpoints in southern California

alongside local cops and highway patrol). For this purpose the 3^(rd)

Infantry Division’s 1^(st) Brigade Combat Team (a brigade that will be

20,000 strong by 2011) has been stationed on US territory and trained in

“non-lethal” crowd-control techniques. Also, within the District of

Columbia, military units can be mobilized for security operations, and

have even been seen advising DC police in attempts to repress the

October Rebellion demonstrations against the International Monetary Fund

in 2007 (in this case Delta Force was advising police).

Military Intelligence: The Pentagon also maintains its own constellation

of intelligence agencies. The roll of these agencies is supposed to be

limited to the gathering of information for military operations, but

this has been interpreted broadly. These agencies include the following.

The Defense Intelligence Agency: This agency primarily focuses on

terrain research, mapping, and gathering information on particular

oppositional forces. For example, before the Gulf War the DIA assembled

maps of possible bombing targets and intelligence on these targets.

The National Security Agency: The NSA focuses on signals intelligence,

or SIGINT. The agency has grown from engaging in the surveillance of

radio communications to its current role, collecting as much of the

signal traffic that moves through public space as possible, including

cell phone calls and internet traffic. To accomplish this task the NSA

has morphed from an agency with dispersed listening posts to an

apparatus centered around the world’s most powerful super-computers,

which are used to store, index, and decrypt as much of the

communications traffic circulating globally as they possibly can.

Intelligence Branches: Each branch of the military also maintains their

own intelligence wings that largely serve to collect specific forms of

operational intelligence. For example, intelligence units within the Air

Force largely function to collect information on oppositional air force

structures.

National Guard—When the situation escalates the National Guard may be

sent in. This requires the declaration of a state of emergency—which can

be initiated by the governor or requested by a mayor. The National Guard

are state forces operating under state laws, unless they are

federalized, which puts them under national laws. The District of

Columbia, which has no National Guard, can call in a neighboring state’s

National Guard or use military personnel based in the area, as they did

against the Bonus Army demonstrations in the 1930s.

There are any number of local variances on these force divisions. As

such, we always have to be researching and analysing local tactical

terrain, police operational capacities and methods, and the dispersal of

police forces through localized space. We must remember that insurgency

is always particular to the moment in which it occurs, and is shaped by

these moments. Therefore, for us to engage in an analysis of the

possibilities for disruption and the amplification of conflict in

particular spaces requires an analysis of the terrain where this

engagement occurs. There are innumerable ways to analyze these things;

for a break down of some of the methods and some of the information that

may be important to gather see Appendix 2 (the Tactical Terrain Analysis

Guide).

Situational Analysis

When attempting to understand police tactics it is fundamental to begin

with understanding terrain analysis. Terrain in this context is not just

physical terrain, but the dynamics of force in physical terrain. There

are many points of departure for terrain analysis, and endless

information that can be gathered about a conflictual terrain. Within the

framework of police crowd-control tactics we begin with an analysis of

the dynamics of conflict in space, which always includes a paradox. On

the one hand, conflict is a dynamic collision of force in space that, by

its very existence, changes the dynamics and terrain. Yet, on the other

hand, this is being made sense of with reference to conceptual

categories that are connected to a calculation of tactical operations

and approach. With this in mind it is important to understand the points

where categorical definitions shift, and the implicit operational shift.

Situation Analysis—In analyzing the (potential) dynamics of conflict in

space, this analysis relies on a simple tripartite categorization.

Remember, these are not just conceptual shifts that we are discussing

here, but fundamental categorizations in the process of attempting to

structure police strategy and tactical operations.

The first crowd type is impromptu gatherings, which have no formal or

announced plans to assemble, and which gather through word of mouth. In

this situation the police response tends to focus on monitoring; the

police may begin to position themselves to contain conflict but do not

engage directly. To engage directly runs the risk of escalating or

accelerating conflict.

The second type of crowd is organized, such as political protests or

gatherings that are pre-planned, announced, and accompanied by outreach

materials. This are typified by increased potential of conflict, but not

necessarily by direct resistance. In this situation police will tend to

contain the area, maintain some distance, avoid direct confrontation,

without interrupting the gathering. Again, the point of providing space

is to prevent an escalation and acceleration of conflict that could

result from direct confrontation. The tactical approach may change at

the point where direct resistance begins to organize itself in space, at

which point the goal shift from containment to dispersal.

Crowd Dynamics—After monitoring the general dynamics of the gathering,

police analysis will attempt to understand the concentration of people

and conflict in itself, in its particular aspects. As with all aspects

of police crowd-control analysis, this is reduced to a series of

categories that imply a set of tactics. Now, the attempt to analyze a

crowd is difficult. There is a concentration of conflict in space, but

it’s not necessarily dispersed evenly; some groups may be more

intentionally confrontational than others, and this becomes even more

difficult in highly dynamic situations like urban riots or other

situations that are very unpredictable. As always, there is an element

of constancy to these categorizations, even though the dynamics of

conflict can be radically modified almost instantly. It is important to

keep in mind how these categories are assembled. As in the analysis of

“crowd types” there is a dramatic shift that hinges on the presence of

(possible) direct confrontation.

Public Disorder: This is a basic breach of civil order that has the

potential to disrupt the normal flow of things. Permitted protests can

fall into this category. This literally means that something outside of

the “norm” is occurring, which could characterize any public gathering

of any sort. Again, as with all low intensity scenarios the primary

strategy revolves around attempting to monitor the situation, but to

avoid direct confrontation if possible.

Public Disturbance: A situation that has the potential to escalate. In

this situation people are yelling, chanting, singing, etc. A Disturbance

is separated from Disorder merely through the manifestation of a certain

form of disruption. The Disturbance is a situation that has already been

deemed hostile, and has the possibility to accelerate quickly, while the

Disorder is a situation which merely has the possibility of becoming

hostile. Disorder situations tend to a containment strategy, in which

the situational terrain is contained, limited, and monitored, with the

police positioned to deploy more force if necessary.

Riot: A situation including property destruction, defense against

police, and with the potential to spin out of police control. Riots are

defined as situations in which hostility has crossed over into direct

resistance, or situations that are clearly structured around the

possibility of direct resistance; black blocs for example, are

structured to engage in direct resistance. These immediately become

situations in which the tactical approach is likely to change from

containment to coercive dispersal.

Crowd Type—General analysis of crowd dynamics is always accompanied by

an attempt to understand the organizational, logistical structure of a

crowd, and thus the approach that will decelerate conflict. Contrary to

the maxim repeated ad nauseum in American media, the primary danger for

the police does not come from highly organized crowds. When a group is

highly organized and relies on this organization, the organization can

be attacked directly and the potential for action will largely disperse.

We see this with hierarchical organizations as well as during many

Occupies, when the loss of parks (as home base) usually spelled the end

of the trajectory of conflict on a local level. Highly organized groups

and networks are easier to read; there is a structure that can be

understood and targeted. This is not the case in dispersed or impromptu

forms of organization and communication. We see this in the ability of

insurgent groups to disappear to the degree that they operate

autonomously.

Casual Crowds: This is the normal gathering that one witnesses every

day, for instance a lunch hour crowd. Each person, or group of people,

comes separately and leaves separately. They have no common agenda. We

should think of this situation as a sort of baseline policed scenario

where police logistics and deterrence functions with maximum efficiency.

Sighting Crowds: These are the crowds that assemble for things like

festivals and sports games, but also events like police brutality

incidents and traffic accidents. They are brought together in one place

by an event or happening. On many levels this is the sort of

concentration that the police fear the most; the dynamics are

unpredictable and potentially volatile. The textbook examples of the

quick escalation of this sort are the Watts Riots, which began after a

group of people gathered around police engaged in a racist traffic stop.

There were always racist traffic stops in Watts, and crowds often

gathered, but for any number of reasons, a series of events that began

with some yelling at the police escalated into days of intense street

riots.

Agitated Crowds: An agitated crowd is a crowd that is starting to

develop a unity beyond an event. This type of crowd is defined by strong

emotions, yelling, screaming, and verbal confrontation with the

authorities. Like sighting crowds, these are thought of as volatile as

well, though more predictable. Police literature makes clear the

mentality based understanding crowds in singular ways, with the agitated

crowd being understood to be upset for some singular unified reason.

Now, this is a fiction. Even if there is common articulation of some

grievance, the ways that this is understood are always particular to

each and every person, in each and every moment. But, within this

assumption, which derives from early 20^(th) century crowd psychology (a

largely discredited discourse), there is an assumption that the crowd is

unitary, and so can be understood through the causes of this agitation.

When approaching potentially conflictual dynamics the posture of the

police will often switch from one of monitoring and non-confrontation to

one of containment. This approach involves controlled uses of force

against specific targets (what are called “leaders” within police

literature) in the attempt to decelerate the dynamic. Mob-Like Crowds:

Mobs are crowds that have become confrontational in action as well as

(or instead of) just verbally. The categorical shift is marked by

potential resistance becoming actual resistance, or by a predictable

deployment of direct resistance. At this point the tactical posture will

shift from containment to dispersal (whether this dispersal occurs

coercively or through the use of tactics that limit movement, such as

kettling— funneling groups into enclosed spaces). The strategy in this

scenario centers around the attempt to completely contain and disperse a

concentration of conflict in such a way that the police can maintain

some level of control over the avenues of escape from the epicenter.

Crowd Assessment Questions

The police assemble a conceptual framework to make sense of any

concentrated conflict in space, framed through the lens of crowd

category, based on what they call Crowd Assessment Questions. The

questions here are from FM 3–19.15, with some analysis by us. Some

things are important to notice about the questions and their implicit

framework. Firstly, the questions themselves are based on intelligence

gathering combined with an understanding of past practices. This, of

course, assumes that there is tactical continuity over time, and that

those who they are attempting to counter are visible, and thus on a

certain level public. Secondly, looking closely at these questions we

notice that they assume a certain form of already regimented political

action, which has a beginning point, an immediate route of movement, and

a determinate end point, none of which is the case in open-ended

insurgency and long-term trajectories of conflict, or in the hit-and-

run tactics common in asymmetric warfare. As such, these questions

assume a crowd that is largely unitary, largely assembled to make some

rhetorical point, and largely linear in tactics. Thirdly, much of this

information is based on intelligence that is unfortunately easy to

gather from cursory searches of the internet and the event outreach

materials themselves. This poses an important problem. Often the idea of

public actions is to attract large numbers of participants, but this

requires doing public outreach, thereby providing important operational

details to the police. Now, this can be avoided through the use of

disinformation campaigns, but these can be hard to organize and require

good communication between various elements of an action. More commonly,

we have to calculate tactics based on publicity coming at the cost of

immediate effectiveness, unless the objective is to just gather large

numbers of people (the question always becomes, and this was the primary

question of the antiwar movement, why we are gathering people, and for

what purpose).

Who is in the crowd? What is the identity of the crowd?

What does the crowd identify as?

Police will determine this information largely from pre-action

intelligence and announcements by the organizers themselves. This is the

first step in how they analyze what the crowd is capable of.

What are the goals of the action?

This helps them determine whether they can try to placate the crowd (for

example, by offering a space to demonstrate in). They call these “goals

of recognition.” But if the crowd has goals that go beyond a desire to

be seen and heard, then police are more likely to prepare for

confrontations.

What are the factions of the crowd?

They ask this question to develop a landscape of active groups in the

area and use this to decide how to allocate forces and which groups they

will attempt to negotiate or work with.

What are we [the crowd] capable of?

What are our [the crowd’s] traditional behaviors and norms?

This question is important for a couple reasons. Firstly, they want to

figure out how to contain certain groups and with how much force.

Secondly, the information generated in the answer is completely based

off prior actions and experiences.

When and where will we [the crowd] assemble?

Where will we [the crowd] go?

What are possible targets?

What is the “worst case scenario”? (often their worst scenario is our

best one)

This question may be the single most important calculation that is made

in forming police strategy. Through determining what the worse possible

scenario may be, all sorts of logistics begin to fall in to place. For

example, this calculation will determine the equipment that they use,

the supplies that they believe necessary to have available, the forces

that will be called in and how they will be arranged in space. During

the G20 in Pittsburgh the police ran out of gas on the first night, one

demonstration of the importance of this metric. This means that the

gasoline supply that they thought would last in the worst possible

scenario over a three day period, was exhausted in around 8 hours; and

this means that the events that happened on that day far exceeded the

worst possible scenario that the police projected.

When and where will we [the crowd] disperse?

What are our [the crowd’s] plans for meet-ups and follow-up actions?

Terrain Analysis

It can never be forgotten that action and conflict occur in a place, as

well as at a time and in a form. All of these together form the terrain.

Variances in terrain play an integral role in the formation of a dynamic

of conflict, sometimes facilitating and sometimes hindering the ability

of police to project through space. Two examples will make this clear.

The first is the Cuban guerrilla war, in which the guerrilla fighters

took advantage of the mountainous terrain of the Sierra Maestra mountain

range to hide their numbers and engage in ambush tactics. Government

forces were forced to move down narrow roads with no escape routes. In

this situation there was no ability for government forces to really

project into this space, except in narrow concentrated columns, which

became more concentrated, and therefore projected through less space, as

attacks increased; this denial of movement was amplified through the

political resistance that was already present in the terrain, and the

history of government absence. This can be contrasted with the Haussman-

nian reconstruction of Paris, between 1853 and 1870, that created the

wide avenues which currently characterize the Parisian city-scape. This

reconstruction involved leveling working class districts in the city

(specifically districts that had been the staging areas for past

insurrections), and replacing them with wide, straight avenues that were

framed by long row buildings. This essentially cut off the remainder of

the neighborhood from the avenue, except through easily controlled

routes between the row buildings. This reconstruction was undertaken

primarily to make the city more easily defensible, both from internal

and external conflict. Internally, the wide avenues were difficult to

barricade off, while the straight lines of sight allowed for greater

range of weapon projection (usually in the form of gunfire, but later

through the shooting of tear gas). Externally, this form of street-scape

allowed for large contingents of government troops to move from

fortresses in the core of the city to the outskirts of the city, and

from forts on the outskirts to the center.

The analysis of terrain in police crowd-control tactics is an on-going

process that occurs on two levels simultaneously. One part includes the

relationship between areas of development, and in what form this

relationship occurs, where the concentrations of development,

production, and commodity circulation are in relation to outlying areas

and so on. The other moves down to street level, to understand the

actual structure of space within concentrations of development, or areas

in which development is less concentrated.

Four categories are used to analyze the relationship between areas of

development, each one implying a different approach.

Satellite—A central hub supports outlying areas, and includes a

concentration of circulation. The most clear example of this is the

suburban relationship to the city, where the suburbs exist to the degree

that the city functions, and to the degree that commodities and people

can circulate to and from the city. But, this pattern of development can

also be seen around county seats in rural areas, or even resource

extraction sites in generally undeveloped areas like Northern Alaska. In

this sort of pattern the police priority is to maintain patterns of

circulation, necessitating a defense of avenues of movement, with a

specific focus on the core, or central area.

Network—Areas are structured not through a single hub, but rather with

direct connections to one another, with each area directly connected to

multiple other areas, and no area being central. For example, the

connections between isolated towns in south-central New York state,

where towns are connected both through the freeway system and also

through state routes, with no relationship of dependency. In this

pattern there may be some areas more economically central than others,

but none of the areas are dependent on the others, and each tends to

develop independent of others. In this pattern the police priority will

be keeping the primary routes open, with the secondary priority of

securing secondary routes (like county routes and so on).

Linear—Areas characterized by a central route between areas of

development, such as state routes and interstates, as well as rivers,

canals, and so on. This is common in flat farming areas, where towns

grew around concentrations of farming operations, and served as places

for farmers to find supplies, as well as to traffic commodities. This

pattern is common in areas like central Ohio, as well as the Great

Plains areas, where a single road may connect dozens of towns, stretched

out along the route. In this sort of pattern the police priority,

obviously, becomes keeping this main route of circulation open.

Segment—Areas characterized by separation of a single space, or single

site of concentration, into areas that are distinct, but also

geographically connected. The most common example of this pattern is a

major city, is comprised of neighborhoods, each with a distinct history

and set of political dynamics. The segment pattern does not exist in

isolation from other patterns, for example, it is common to see a

discussion of a segmented space that is also the center of a satellite

pattern (this would just be a major city with suburbs). This focuses not

just on routes of transportation and circulation, but more on the

relationships between spaces and how the borders of spaces are

conceived. For example, during the Pittsburgh G20 actions moved through

a series of distinctly segmented areas. Early into the actions the

movement occurred in a largely working class area of Lawrenceville

(where anarchists found a large degree of support), then moved through

Bloomfield and into the border areas between Oakland, East Liberty,

Shadyside, and Bloomfield. These were areas characterized by more open

streets and lower concentrations of people, with much of the space being

commercial, and here the actions sped up and spread out. This eventually

ended in Oakland, the university district, when the riots spread to the

student population (with a history of confrontation with the police

during sports riots), characterized by open areas and wide streets

(facilitating quick movement and providing places for students and

anarchists to gather during the riots, as well as parks to retreat to

when necessary).

Figure C-2. Urban Patterns

From this general structural analysis, the framework of analysis will

become more specific to the actual structure of specific spaces, and the

ways that circulation functions in these spaces. In the attempt to

analyze these specific patterns, police analysis will come to rely on

three categories of spatial structure, framed around street patterns.

Radial—The area has streets radiating out from a central point. Usually

that central point is the center of religious or political power. This

structure of space allows for easy concentration of force around primary

objectives, such as government buildings and so on, along with wide

avenues of deployment from these points. This pattern tends to exist

within planned cities, specifically capital cities like Washington DC,

and is structured specifically to construct a terrain that is easily

defensible. Within this sort of pattern the primary police tactical

imperative is to protect, and even to stage from, the hubs in this

radial pattern, which is usually the site of government buildings,

commercial concentrations, or open areas like parks. Through controlling

the central hubs police are able to control the routes that spread from

the central hub, allowing them maximum projection from a central point.

Grid—Streets in a simple hash pattern, straight lines, simple to follow.

The grid pattern is often found in industrial cities that engage in, or

have engaged in, a heavy volume of shipping. This pattern is widely

characterized by wide open avenues, usually four lanes or more, running

both North-South and East-West, with smaller side streets moving in

straight lines between the avenues. With the wide avenues acting as the

primary arteries of movement, the grid pattern allows police the maximum

amount of visibility, projection of weapon fire, and speed of movement.

These patterns are the easiest to police and to maintain commodity

circulation, which is the primary impetus for this pattern.

Irregular—Characterized by a generally organic pattern of development,

such as in parts of Pittsburgh or the Latin Quarter in Paris, these

areas have not been subject to standardized street plans. Within these

irregular formations there are often numerous small, narrow side streets

and alleys, streets that bend and wind and a wide variety of terrain and

elevation variance. Within these, the ability of police to move through

space is dramatically limited. Without long lines of sight it becomes

hard to keep actions visible and difficult to move cohesively as a unit.

Without straight streets it becomes difficult to project weapon fire

long distances without hitting structures that may stand at a pivotal

point in the road itself. The tendency of irregular patterns to be

characterized by a network of narrow streets and alleys also makes this

space more conducive to barricades, which limit the movement of police

even more. With the limitations on vision, movement, and weapon

projection, irregular patterns maximize uncertainty of police movement,

limiting their ability to move without concentrating force, which

dramatically limits their ability to project through space.

Figure C-3. Basic Internal Street Patterns

Tactical Operations

The result of this analysis is the formation of tactical operations, or

strategies for the deployment of police force into space. These

operations are based on the intelligence that police gather before an

event or gathering, as well as information gathered during the event or

gathering. Keep the following in mind. Firstly, the goal of this

constellation of objectives is always to decelerate conflict within

space, eventually dispersing that conflict through space. It is only at

the point of deceleration, dissipation of immediate concentrations of

conflict, that police can also disperse their deployments of force and

begin to project through space again. Secondly, any concentration of

police in a space comes at the cost of being able to project through

space, meaning that gaps are created in police coverage where conflict

can spread. Thirdly, this process of analysis is constant, but involves

a cognitive gap that can be (and has been) exploited in mobile tactical

scenarios. The goal of analysis of the dynamics of conflict is to

achieve what is called topsight, which faces two challenges. The first

is purely cognitive; police forces have an incredible capacity to

collect information, but this information needs to be processed to be of

value in tactical operations. Currently, their ability to gather

information far outpaces their ability to process information. Actions

are mobile and shape the terrain that they occur within, meaning that

the gathering of information (frequently automated) is far faster and

more thorough than the processing of that information (especially when

by humans). The second difficulty is that this information is always

interpreted, generating interpretive gaps. When analyzing information

the analyst is placing this information into a framework developed

before the information was generated, dramatically recontextualizing the

information. These two difficulties prevent either total awareness, or

true analysis, and requires delays; analyzing and making sense of

information takes time, and in this time other events are occurring. For

example, during the early stages of the American war in Afghanistan,

before the main force invasion in November of 2001, Special Forces and

CIA personnel were on the ground, buying off militias, but also

targeting air strikes. In this process an operator would spot a Taliban

vehicle, send the coordinates to a drone that was flying overhead, which

would send them to a satellite, which would send the coordinates to a

base in Saudi Arabia, which would beam orders back through a satellite,

which would send them to a B52 flying in the area which would drop a

bomb, and this process took 18 minutes, at which point the data was

obsolete, and this process was largely automated; this gap widens when

human analysts and communication is involved. But, even with delays, the

conceptual deployment of force takes shape in the form of orders, given

to direct tactical operations. These include the following:

Monitoring—Monitoring operations should be assumed to be the most

prominent form of tactical operation. It serves two primary purposes. Of

course, the first is to gather information, to assess the situation, and

even to probe the crowd to see how they will respond. For example, in

the mid- 2000s when groups would gather in Washington DC, the police

would always walk in to the park to find a “leader,” usually in a team

of two: a large, well trained cop and a commander. The primary purpose

here was not to negotiate with the crowd, but to use this interaction

(along with other forms of surveillance), to assess the level of the

crowd’s hostility to the police, and how willing to fight. From here the

police would determine their approach to the group. Outside of these

probes monitoring occurs through any number of mechanisms including, but

not limited to, aerial monitoring with helicopters; overhead monitoring

from the tops of buildings; monitoring from ground level; infiltrators,

and so on.

The second purpose of monitoring is to discourage and track actions.

On-the-ground monitoring units position themselves in visible spaces,

outside of projectile range (which they put at around 300 feet, or 100

yards), overtly taking pictures and taking notes. It is thought that,

when groups are monitored, they are less prone to hostile action. Now,

this process breaks down when people resisting the police are anonymous,

especially when combined with escape and changing of clothes. When

people do act, and resist the police, the cops’ task shifts to

identification of possible arrest targets. In groups that are not

coordinating dress and hiding identifying markers, this usually occurs

through the recognition of clothing and facial features. In groups that

are being careful, distinguishing features can be minor ones, like the

pattern of the sides of shoes, a tuft of hair that slips out from under

one’s hoodie, gait, and even height and weight; we would think that this

sort of evidence would be too flimsy to hold up in court, but we would

be mistaken in many cases.

Blocking—These sorts of tactical operations are structured to deny

access to specific areas or targets. As tactics have become more mobile

over the past decade this has become more and more rare for a very

obvious reason; at the point where police have to concentrate their

numbers and attention to deny access to a certain area or target, they

fail to project across space, generating large gaps in coverage. For

example, during the Quebec City Summit of the Americas in 2001, the

police set up a wide fenced-in perimeter around the convention center.

This held up to repeated attacks on the first day. The police

concentrated at the fence in anticipation of attacks there, and were

largely successful. But after the first day it became clear that the

rest of the city was fair game, either for actions or to use as staging

areas for actions on the protected zone. Police strategy was not able to

cope when the terrain of conflict expanded. Currently, we will see this

tactic used as a forward action in combination with other tactics. For

example, often during marches in Oakland, California[?] the police will

have units trailing a group through the streets, while at the same time

positioning forward units far beyond the front of the group, blocking

specific streets and attempting to contain the group within a certain

area by blocking access to areas outside of the containment zone. This

tactic was also recently seen being used by LAPD against people

demonstrating on the highway against the acquittal of George Zimmerman

in the cold blooded killing of Trayvon Martin; the police blocked many

of the freeway exits in the vicinity and contained the group on the

freeway, eventually moving them off the freeway, up an embankment, then

using more mobile tactics to split the crowd and finally dispersing

people one at a time. One rarely, if ever, sees a pure blocking

operation that is outside of other tactics to contain and disperse

groups, with the blocking operation used only to deny access.

Dispersing—The purpose of all police tactics are to disperse conflict

from concentrated points of collision, but there is a risk involved in

this sort of operation. All police tactics are based on the ability to

have a relatively comprehensive understanding of the dynamics of

conflict in a space, which requires that concentrations of conflict

remain relatively geographically narrow and tactically contained. The

risk of all dispersal operations is the potential expansion of the

terrain of conflict with such speed that conflict can no longer be

contained, and thus become unable to be seen and understood.

As conflict spreads out through terrain, and the speed of action

increases (often in response to police violence), police operations

become more mobile and more dispersed across space, scattering

themselves as well as as antagonistic forces. As we see in countless

studies of asymmetric warfare, this dispersal of police force fragments

their operation, and stretches logistical capacity (especially on the

level of supply and communications), to a point of rupture. We can

clearly see this in the failure of the main force strategy employed by

the US military in Afghanistan; when the main force invaded, and tens of

thousands of soldiers flooded into the country, insurgents just

disappeared by dispersing their forces throughout the terrain. After a

time—most place this as between one and two years—these insurgents began

to contact one another again and to launch attacks across a wide and

varied terrain without a necessary front line, largely against supply

lines and patrols. This escalation, combined with the targets and the

variance of the terrain of attack, negated the idea that the US

controlled territory and, when combined with attacks on patrols and

supply lines, forced US forces back to large, heavily defended, forward-

operating bases that they could easily defend. The process of this

retreat created wide gaps in coverage that future attacks were staged

from. What is important about this example is to understand that it was

not any one attack, or even the combination of all the attacks, that

forced this retreat; it was that each attack pointed to a gap in

coverage that was being exploited that, combined with the speed and

variance of the terrain of attack, collapsed the ability of US forces to

trust their own operational understanding of their terrain, forcing them

into a defensive position. In other words, these attacks created vast

uncertainty, which prevented the US from understanding the terrain

thoroughly enough to plan operations.

Given the ability of uncontained dispersal to disrupt the entire

analytic apparatus of the police hierarchy, dispersal operations are

usually taken with extreme care. As is described in FM 3–19.15 and other

police literature, dispersal can only occur efficiently within a wider

containment operation, in which police force is spaced out across a

terrain to channel and contain the movement of people away from a

concentration of conflict. This is one of the primary differences

between European and American police tactics. In the US police tend to

contain large areas, like an entire downtown area, blocking access to

certain areas. creating a perimeter around a concentration of conflict

to contain that area in the case of movement or dispersal. Weapons like

tear gas are only used when the police have to disperse a group quickly,

or to push groups in certain directions, as we saw during the riots in

the Oakland neighborhood of Pittsburgh during the G20 (tear gas was used

to push students and anarchists rioting on Forbes Ave away from the

commercial district). In contrast, European police, with the exception

of Germany, traditionally use access-denial and dispersal tactics

(although this is changing as more and more American police advisers

train EU police), in which projectile weapons are used to disperse

crowds quickly, without much focus on containing the areas of conflict.

This style can be seen in studies of the Poll Tax Riots.

Containing—These operations always exist in a relationship with

dispersal tactics, through the attempt to generate contained dispersal.

In situations of physical containment police set a perimeter that

isolates an area that more or less conforms to the borders of a terrain

of conflict. To do this police may use kettling, where groups are

surrounded and immobilized en masse, to decelerate the movement,

expansion, and speed of conflict in a space. Tight containment tactics

like these have an inherent fundamental problem. Initially, this tactic

can only be deployed if conflict is already geographically limited to a

narrow area, such as a march. But when the zone of conflict is

contained, increasing containment concentrates too much conflict in a

space, which usually generates attacks on the police lines that prevent

movement as well as on targets within the zone of containment. When

wider zones of containment are constructed police will space themselves

out, denying access to specific areas, usually closing in on the

perimeter as conflict disperses as they sweep the area. For example,

during the Spring 2009 IMF and World Bank demonstrations in Washington

DC, through the use of concealment, disinformation, and mobile tactics,

the police were forced to sweep the entire downtown area to make sure

that no concealed groups went undetected. This required dispersing force

around downtown, covering all streets within the containment zone,

starting on the edges of downtown and slowly tightening the perimeter

until they had contained all conflictual elements in a tight ring near

the perimeter fence and delegate checkpoints.

In containment operations the central dynamic revolves around the

relationship between force concentration and force projection. To

attempt to contain a wide perimeter, force has to be dispersed to

maximize projection, but this makes each unit able to mobilize less

force and less support. To attempt to contain a narrow area, force is

concentrated, but this means that less space can be contained. As one

can see in studies of mobile tactics, by widening the terrain of

conflict and maintaining mobility one can prevent concentrations of

opposing forces and stretch the logistics of opposing forces to the

point where units can become isolated, supply lines broken, and

communication cut.

Aspects of Police Formations

To coordinate forces across space the police will often rely on

formations, or choreographed structures of force in space. There are

advantages but also shortcomings to this approach. On the one hand,

proximity of forces allows police to concentrate force in space,

effective when dispersing concentrated conflict in geographically narrow

spaces, or when protecting single targets. We can see what occurs when

formations are used to clear wide spaces if we look at footage from the

Chicago Democratic Convention protests in 1968; with a relatively, by

today’s standards, small contingent, the police attempted to clear an

area wider than their formations. Formations collapsed as police chased

individual demonstrators. Formations function to the degree that they

stay coherent, limiting the amount of space that they can project

through. Also, we have to keep in mind that formations tend to function

in close proximity to a target area, rather than at distance. With

distance between a group and police formations the police have to rely

on forms of projection other than physical projection of units through

space. Usually they resort to the use of projectile weapons.

Formations consist of a variety of elements, not always apparent, that

coordinate movement between units, develop strategic approaches, and

maintain supply and communications. These elements consist of the

following.

Base—What most people think of when they hear “police formations” is the

base element, which comprises the front lines of any police formation.

These can be police in lines on foot, with the first line for direct

confrontation and the second line (made up of team leaders) to relay

commands and fire projectile weapons. Remember though, that this base

element does not operate in isolation, including command hierarchy,

reinforcement elements, and supply lines. Failure to understand this has

led to the tactic by (usually inexperienced) American anarchists of

frontal charges on police lines; even if a line is broken the logistics

are not disorganized, and support is still present. It is true that,

with few exceptions, most force deployment will come directly from this

element. But focusing solely on the base element loses the wider context

of police operations and movements.

Support—This element fills in for base element police that need to be

replaced, performs extraction/ snatches, and provides general support.

The primary support elements tend to maintain a presence in immediate

proximity to, though not immediately engaged within, a terrain of

conflict. This allows them to quicker response times, including the

ability to organize targeted arrest operations, snatch squads, immediate

supply and logistical support, or immediate relief of units that may

need rotation or back-up.

Command—In modern policing tactics, with the proliferation of

computerized communications, the Command Elements tend to stay within a

command center structure, usually in a safe zone away from the primary

sites of engagement. This element serves to collect and process

information about the dynamics of this specific conflict and to disperse

orders back to the base and support elements in the field. Police

logistics rely on this relaying and processing of information. If that

process is cut, police logistics undergoes a profound crisis. For

example, most of American air strike tactics are completely based on

this concept, framed within a doctrine called Parallel Strike, in which

the primary targets of an air campaign consist of command and control

centers, radio transmitters, and radar sites. Successfully hitting these

targets blinds and deafens the opposing force, rendering them unable to

coordinate and plan operational responses. By targeting and fragmenting

the logistical support structure and severing base units from command,

the opposing force becomes critically disorganized.

Reserve Support—Not technically part of the formation but readt to join

the formation if needed. Unlike Support Elements, Reserve Support

Elements are held back, usually maintaining a presence at some distance

from the primary points of engagement. This has a variety of

implications. Firstly, Reserve Support Elements can be difficult to

factor in to an immediate tactical calculus; their numbers and presence

are hidden. Secondly, their distance from the conflict means that they

can be used for a variety of roles, including supply and communications.

Formations

The use of concentrated military formations dates back to ancient

warfare. In the absence of electronic communications, units had to be

kept close to receive oral or visual commands. Since that time the

formation has taken on a different purpose, only being deployed in

situations of concentrated and geographically limited conflict to be

able to bring a concentration of force. We often see formations carried

out by single squads but, in situations where more space needs to be

secured or more force needs to be concentrated, formations can include

entire platoons, which are comprised of a number of squads. Diagrams and

force breakdowns for an average platoon follow these descriptions.

Formations generally fall into the following categories. Line—One or two

ranks of police lined up shoulder to shoulder. This formation is mainly

used to clear and hold space in general. The line is a mostly defensive

formation which attempts to hold space; if it operates offensively it is

to clear space in general, rather than to secure specific locations.

Echelon—An offensive diagonal line, used to push people away from a

certain location and toward locations desired by police. The point

person goes in the direction of the target and when the line reaches the

target it either becomes defensive or pushes forward and clears the

area. Unlike a pure line formation, which is a primarily defensive

formation meant to hold space, the echelon is a hybrid, beginning its

deployment in an offensive role, moving to secure an individual target

(rather than securing a space), and then moving to clear the immediate

area around the target (switching from an offensive to defensive role).

The echelon is structured to move through space toward a particular

objective, and to secure the objective, rather than to prevent movement

or to hold space.

Wedge—Primarily deployed to split crowds into segments. In the United

States we often see this formation deployed with the use of vehicles,

specifically motorcycles and patrol cars. The police form a V, with the

point of the V leading, to drive into the middle of a space, splitting

the crowd into smaller and smaller groups.

Diamond—The diamond is both offensive and defensive. Offensively, it is

used to enter crowds and is the formation most used by extraction teams/

snatch squads. Defensively, this formation is used when all-around

security is needed. This formation allows police to create a 360 degree

perimeter, with all sides of the formation secured. In an offensive

capacity, when moving through resistant terrain, this formation prevents

the possibility of being attacked from behind, while defensively it

allows for the securing of specific zones, even if these zones are

surrounded by resistant terrain. The trade-off of formations like this

is that, in the concentration of numbers to provide 360 degree

visibility and security, the formation can move or occupy less space.

Circular—Similar to diamond formation except the rounded edges (or lack

of edges) allow some flow between the corners of a street for instance.

It is a way to have 360 degree vision without blocking the space

entirely.

Signals and Communications

The police communicate through a series of verbal cues, which can be

overheard when close enough, and nonverbal cues, which can be seen if

utilized, from a distance. Non-verbal commands either emphasize or

substitute for verbal commands. The team or squad leader will walk out

in front of, or to the side of, the other police in the squad and give

non-verbal signal that can include some of the following.

Non-Verbal Commands for Formations

Line

Raise both arms from the sides until they are horizontal. The aims and

hands should be extended with the palms down.

Echelon (Right or Lett)

Extend one arm 45* above the horizontal and the other 45” below the

horizontal. The arms and hands should be extended. The upper arm shows

the direction of the echelon when the commander faces the troops.

Wedge

Extend both arms downward and to the sides at a 45 ° angle. The arms and

hands should be extended with the palms down and in.

Diamond

Extend both arms above the head. Bend the elbows slightly, and touch the

fingertips together.

Circular

Give the diamond signal. Then give a circular motion with the right

hand.

Figure 6–4. Hand-and-Arm Signals

In recent events a new signal has been noticed in Oakland and Los

Angeles, California. The signal is for an advance preceded by a volley

of weapons fire. In LA the movement forward was preceded with volleys of

rubber bullets. It looks like the following signal, from the US Army

Visual Signals Guide, except that the hand is held open and extended

forward at a 45 degree angle (yes, like a Nazi salute)

Raise the fist to the shoulder; thrust the fist upward to the full

extent of the arm and back to shoulder level; do this rapidly several

times.

Figure 2–33. INCREASE SPEED, DOUBLE TIME, or RUSH

Two other non-verbal signals are worth noting here.

An extraction team is a team from the support element that moves into

the crowd and makes a targeted arrest. Sometimes this is done as a way

to disperse a crowd or to eliminate instigators. When an extraction team

is forming you will notice police gathering behind the front line. This

is often followed by the pointing out of targets for extraction. The

squad leader of the extraction team, once the squad is organized, will

stick his hands between the arms of two police and say “Open”. The

police that were tapped will open like a double door and the extraction

team will run out into the crowd. An extraction team looks like this:

Figure 6–5. Extraction Team Formation

Police also have a signal for firing a what they call a less-than-lethal

weapon. The officer properly equipped to fire a specific type of

weaponry will walk up behind two front line cops and tap them on their

inside shoulder. After they are tapped they go to one knee and put their

shields up. The weapons operator then fires the weapon over their

shoulder. If people in the crowd see weapons being prepared, they should

leave the area.

Conclusion

In crowd control there are two ways that the police will address

concentration of conflict, each its own limits and tactical

opportunities. Firstly, as has been seen throughout the past decade, the

police will concentrate incredible amounts of force to maintain an

advantage. It is not that they are ready for total deployment, or a

scenario in which all units are engaged simultaneously; the situation is

verging on the disastrous for them if total deployment becomes

necessary. Rather, the forces mobilized is an attempt to cope with

contingencies, and to maintain (regardless of the concentration of

conflict at any point) the ability to move forces as necessary. This

concentration involves a sacrifice of the ability to maximize the amount

of space covered however, because conflict has to stay contained in

order to be able to adjust operations to the dynamics of action.

We see this in the shift of US military operational strategy into, and

recently out of, counterinsurgency operations. Counterinsurgency (like

crowd control) implies the ability to totally occupy space, covering

every moment and space necessary to decelerate conflict. However,

counterinsurgency approaches require that more police are concentrated

in certain spaces, usually inhabited spaces, to maintain operational

coherence and a force mobilization advantage. But this limits the space

that can be occupied, which allows fringe spaces to escape police

operations. In the recent shift into counterterrorism operations

(characterized by decreasing physical occupations of space and

increasing targeted raids and drone strike operations) the amount of

space that can be covered is maximized, but the consistency of this

coverage and the ability to concentrate force in space is almost

entirely eliminated. This clearly points to some of the tactical

problems raised by the assumption of mass street action, (when we

concentrate numbers the police can easily identify and concentrate force

at that point), and also reinforces the importance of movement and speed

when one does not have an advantage on the level of force (often the

case in insurgency).

Secondly, the approaches used in crowd-control situations require a

containment of the terrain of conflict. While concentrating force allows

police to concentrate numbers at a specific point, as the manual

discusses in relation to dispersal, this exists in a paradoxical

relationship with the attempt to decelerate conflict. If conflict

disperses through space, if the terrain of action expands faster than it

can be contained, then concentrating force at a point becomes

detrimental to the attempt to decelerate conflict on the street. Action

will simply spread to where the police are not. Therefore, while they

attempt to disperse conflict and decelerate it through the fragmentation

of the dynamic, losing control over the lines of flight and avenues of

movement prevents them from being able to contain this conflict to

certain zones. So, they have to balance the tendency toward

confrontation and dispersal against the need to contain and limit

movement. Unfortunately, we often contain and limit ourselves. Our

tendency to move in large groups in confined spaces, let alone to

announce actions before hand (or even to rely on coordinated actions),

makes us more legible, spatially limited, and containable.

The ability to concentrate force and contain conflict in space requires

topsight: a comprehensive view of the total terrain of conflict. There

are all sorts of means to generate and maintain topsight, different ways

to scout: helicopters, surveillance cameras, informants, and so on. We

can see the importance of intelligence in the crowd assessment

questions, which all are attempting to organize and categorize

information gathered about potential actions. Without the ability to

delineate potential zones of action, people who may take action, and the

actions that these people tend to take, the police have no way to

understand where to concentrate force. This is one of the aspects of

asymmetric warfare that is emphasized in almost all literature on

insurgency, insurgencies function to the degree that they can maintain a

certain form of invisibility, only appearing in situations where

tactical advantage can be generated, such as in the ambush. Similar

dynamics play themselves out here, or in any dynamic between insurgency

and policing; without the ability to “see” insurgency, without the

public manifestations of insurgency, the announced actions, identifiable

groups, normative tactics and targets and so on, police deployment

occurs with a certain blindness.

Now, we must be careful not to reduce this into some sort of “law of

war”; such laws are paradoxical and impossible, one cannot formalize

forms of action within tactical dynamics which are all particular and

dynamic. Rather, what becomes clear is that there is an inverse

relationship between visibility/ identifiability and the ability to

operate outside of police containment. The failure in taking this

dynamic into account can be seen in both mass movement mentalities and

in the form of the underground urban guerrilla. In the mass movement the

tendency toward maximum visibility, created in an ill-conceived attempt

to generate maximum “support,” which is understood as an end in itself,

the mass movement becomes easily containable, easily monitored and, as a

result, easily predictable. At the other extreme is the underground

group, in the mold of the Red Army Faction, which removes itself from

the dynamics of conflict on the street entirely, and ends up fighting a

contained frontal struggle between the organization and the police. In

the definition of the organization as the privileged site of struggle,

as the vanguardist force, conflict becomes contained within the

organization, and only deployed by the organization, generating a

certain visibility merely in its definability as an organization that

maintains some material presence, in the form of supply chains, safe

houses and modes of operation.

The ability to act and disappear, to move through space silently and to

manifest when the advantage presents itself does not mean that public

actions are to be completely ignored. The use of crowd cover, or the use

of the crowd as a form of concealment, as we can see with actions in

Chile, where anarchists will conceal themselves in a wider crowd and

wait for the time to attack, can offer certain opportunities for action.

But, this form of action functions to the degree that the framework of

the action itself can be broken out of, or that the actions taken

generate a trajectory of conflict that multiplies spatially and can

mobilize enough force to cause conflict, perpetuated through the

reactions of the police, to amplify. However, this is also not to say

that we have to default into the framework of mass action, as is often

the case in radical circles. The mass action is public, identifiable and

easily contained, with large numbers gathered in finite spaces. Often,

the ability to maintain concealment provides the ability to act in

situations where we can take advantage of surprise or a lack of

concentrated police force, but at the risk of isolating the action and

limiting the potential amplification of conflict. Increasingly it is

clear that the same dynamics play themselves out in virtual acts of

disruption, hacking, Distributed Denial Of Service attacks and so on, as

well.

There are numerous ways that topsight can be disrupted and police

operations lose their offensive or pro-active posture, an effect of an

opacity of terrains of struggle. When police movement through space is

limited their ability to maintain confrontational pressure, or to

intervene in the dynamics of conflict, becomes greatly limited. In the

multiplication of movement through space, the proliferation of actions,

acceleration in the speed of action, and the multiplication of terrains

of action inhibit their sense of what is going on, fragments their

ability to plan and deploy strategic operations within their hierarchy.

This means that they have to constantly reassess, which generates crisis

for their force coherence, communications, supply, and strategy.

However, there is no universal formula that we can offer here, only

frameworks that we can develop to make sense of the actions that we take

and the effectiveness of these actions.

We cannot work through this calculus in isolation. As much as we can

learn from reading crowd- control literature, this only provides a

framework through which to understand wider dynamics of policing and

insurgency. Any number of other aspects of a situation have to be

accounted for, including local police structure and tactics, the actual

moment of action and the dynamics that may surround this moment, the

possible effects of acting against specific targets, and the potential

reaction by the police, as well as innumerable variables that construct

the local terrain of action. Without these specifics we are reduced to

calculating actions that may be taken based on other, non-tactical,

concerns, which are generally irrelevant to the material effects of

action. For example, if we think of an event through the lens of

“putting our ideas into action” the possibilities of action become

limited by the definitions of “our ideas,” and effectiveness is

calculated in reference to the degree that we think that these ideas

were manifested in particular moments. This is, in itself impossible,

and is a completely separate question from that of effectiveness. By

measuring actions in this way the actual discussion of tactical

effectiveness, or the calculation of whether material objectives were

met, is entirely obscured, and action is reduced to a Quixotic attempt

to “change the world,” without actually engaging in a material dynamic

at all. We wonder why tactical discourse is almost absent from radical

circles, we wonder why the same frameworks of action are repeated over

and over again, with different results expected; this all centers around

the hesitancy, or outright resistance to any discussion of the material

effectiveness of action, outside of the lofty reasons that many have to

fight.

Assessing tactical dynamics is how we make sense of specific actions and

possibilities, but the attempt to make sense and the actual actions can

never be fused into a singular narrative, unless someone out there knows

some form of absolute truth. So, we cannot discuss something like

ethics—the primary category at the center of the absurdly false

dichotomy between violence and nonviolence—as determinate of material

tactical deployments, without limiting the kinds of actions we can

imagine. Tactical dynamics are amoral, arational, particular dynamics of

conflict, and effectiveness is the accomplishment of objectives within

this dynamic of profound uncertainty and resistance. Fusing ideas and

action together is always already impossible: analysis generates a space

that becomes inert while tactical dynamics are always in flux in all

moments, making both strategy and tactics impossible to think in direct

and total ways. The most that we can do is try to make sense of these

dynamics in increasingly effective ways, ways that facilitate the

achievement of material objectives. This requires an approach referred

to as operational theory. Neither strategy— impossible to project

through time, nor tactical the- ory—the attempt to think particular

tactical dynamics in generalized conceptual forms, operational theory is

the attempt to think action in conflict through an analysis centered on

the dynamics of action, rather than through the lens of conceptual

qualitative categories, So, it creates an analytic space between the

conceptualization of strategy and the immediacy of tactics. The ways

that we make sense of these dynamics is part of understanding how we can

think of action within that dynamic. But at the point where these ways

of making sense become plans, grand strategies, theoretical definitions,

and rigid understandings of tactics, the deployment of action within

that dynamic becomes limited, actions become easily defined and

containable, and topsight by the police becomes that much easier to

generate and maintain. Insurgency is always a material dynamic, and we

will only be able to get beyond the current tactical impasse that many

of us feel to the degree that we embrace the materiality of struggle and

focus on acting based on careful attention to the actual dynamics of

conflict in a particular terrain in a particular moment.

Beyond Property Destruction

Introduction

All politics is against the police — Jacques Ranciere

There have been some remarkably disruptive actions of property

destruction in the last series of years. This is a welcome shift away

from the aimless people dressed in black marching in circles, away from

crowds that rely on numerical concentration in a specific space, away

from the island effect (where a group at the front becomes isolated and

boxed in because the rest of the crowd has dispersed due to some minor

police threat). The streets of Athens, London, Pittsburgh, Santa Cruz,

Asheville, Oakland, Los Angeles, Vancouver and Toronto (among others—the

list grows daily) have been littered with broken glass and barricaded

with burning dumpsters (or cop cars). But beyond the immediate

appropriation by the media spectacle and the payday for plate glass

companies, something remains lacking. From the obsession with “riot

porn” to the images produced to explain or call for actions, this

reliance on property destruction, both as a tactic and indicator of

success, has moved from being a tactic, to a fetish, a trap that we have

not yet been able to move away from. Maybe it is the militant rejection

of nonviolence coupled with instances of overwhelming police force,

leaving property destruction as the simplest direct yet low risk

alternative to actual conflict. But regardless, we need to move away

from this tactic, this concept of a certain tactical necessity, and

beyond property destruction.

Property destruction can be remarkably disruptive, especially when

there’s lots of it, but it has come to exist as some sort of abstract

anarchist threat in a reactionary politics of consequences. Every time a

city announces a summit, out go the calls to action, the grandstanding

starts, the hype builds, and the security apparatus is put in place to

“maintain order.” The script has played itself out, without apparent end

or even acknowledgement that we have been down this path before. So,

this discussion of where to go tends to fall into a series of ridiculous

dichotomies: direct action, community organizing (as if there is a

separation), or the endless violence or nonviolence debate (as if

concepts can ever speak of particular tactical terrains). In this

collapse into dichotomy we have lost the purpose of the discussion: what

we are doing and how it is, or is not, effective. In other words, in the

swirling conversations about concepts and definitions what gets lost are

tactics, action, material tactical situations. It is not as simple as

saying that property destruction is the logical surpassing of

nonviolence. We need to look at tactics and to remove them from the

conceptualizations of politics that we have all become so fond of.

This is far from a call for a return to mass movements or the

large-scale parades of the antiwar movement (as well attended as they

were ineffective). It is about seeing beyond this dead end of mass

actions and the shattered windows that sometimes result. In other words,

these tactics are exactly that; tactical deployments into space,

deployments with effects that change tactical terrains. It is not a

question of the affectivity of property destruction or how riots

constitute our subjectivity, or something like that; this is merely a

question of the material dynamics of conflict. When we look at these

instances of concentrated property destruction, or even the isolated

attack in the middle of the night, we must see not the action itself but

rather the tactical medium that it exists in and as a part of. This

focus on property destruction has tended to come from two mutually

reinforcing perspectives. On the one hand, property destruction is

spoken of affectively, as something that feels appropriate to those who

carry out the actions. On the other hand, property destruction and its

fetishization tend to focus attention on the act itself, as if any

action has some inherent meaning outside of the terrain and medium that

it exists within.

This focus on affectivity, the idea that an action is carried out for

the affective results, exists as an attempt to isolate actions, to speak

of the action in itself, while marginalizing the action in some attempt

to proliferate subjectivities. In order for this sort of analysis to

carry through, the action has to be first isolated as a space that

generates results separate from the dynamics that the actions exists

within, and then analyzed in relation to this affective result (and

apart from any other material results). This occurs in all attempts to

generate essentialist concepts of certain sorts of actions, whether in

the form of nonviolence or of fetishized property destruction. This

conceptualization of tactical actions begins with the generation of some

transcendental imperative, a concept held as true, in which the action

in itself becomes an expression. As in all concepts of ethics, the

action is reduced to a conceptual object, a sort of constancy that can

be applied between moments, and is then analyzed as such, in isolation

from the particularity of the dynamics that the action occurs within and

the terrain that the action generates in its effects. In other words,

what occurs, at the point of treating actions as something with a

specified, legible, result, is that the action becomes isolated from

history (from the dynamics of conflict that construct its possibility),

and then judged through some transcendental lens, in this case the lens

of abstracted affective profit. But this isolation, in order to obtain

some profit or gain in the amount of possible subjective manifestations,

is just another form of isolating action from the context that it is a

result of and that it produces. It seems odd how much some of this

rhetoric surrounding affectivity (especially among the more

hipsterly-inclined among us), begins to resemble early capitalist

arguments about the importance of material profit: the action is

isolated as carrying transcendental value, which benefits an isolated

producer. Now, this does not mean that we should reject any analysis of

affec- tivity, rather we need to understand the co-immanence[1], the

necessary relation between the affective and the effective. In other

words, there are no actions that in themselves exist purely affectively,

there is always an effect, and with that effect a consequent

construction of other particular moments.

Action exists as a manifestation of one of various possibilities present

at any moment and has effects; that is, it participates in the

construction of other possibilities. Put another way, there is no action

that is not necessarily external, that does not project a certain

existence into the world, and on that level there is no way to separate

the affective from the effective; affective results from effects. In the

fundamental shift in the dynamics of terrain, new, inconceivable,

unpredictable dynamics will result, new possibilities will become

apparent, and the entire terrain is constructed in a particular way in

each moment. This occurs with any action; the effects of any action will

fundamentally rupture the dynamics that existed before the action

occurred. In other words, due to the inherent connection between the

affective and the effective, predicting the affectivity of an action,

planning affective actions, is impossi- bile. There is just no way to

sit in a room and determine the possible effects, the shifts in the

terrain of action that we call a world, before an action is taken. All

that we can do is conceptualize possibilities, but always in necessarily

inaccurate ways. And, because no action exists completely internally, no

action is completely affective, all action implies effect and thus a

reconstruction of the entirety of the terrain of existence in the very

truth of its occurrence as something that had not occurred before.

Nothing can exist as more or less affective, all moments are singular as

what they are, they are all moments that have never occurred before and

will never occur again, and as such we cannot understand the affective

as a quantity that produces subjectivities (especially because the act

of production also necessarily has an effect, but that is a minor point

here). The affective is not a quantity; comparisons of quantity imply

the ability to compare moments which in themselves are fundamentally

particular, and its co-immanence with the effective, or the tactical,

necessarily means first, that all action exists as one trajectory of

affect/effect within a innumerable series of actions (or everything that

has ever occurred) and trajectories that come into conflict in the

tactical medium. Also, this very conflict, this collision of

trajectories, makes the future indeterminable and that the conflict

itself, the unfulfilled trajectory of affect/effect, is what constructs

what we call the world. To go back to something Patton said, following

Clausewitz, “no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.” In

other words, theoretical attempts to isolate affectivity, to predict

affective consequences, may not be wrong in the absolute conceptual

sense, but it is impossible. We project the theoretical within this

smooth context devoid of actions and affect/effect, devoid of conflict,

devoid of the unfulfilled; but the moment any action occurs the very

context that was theorized is already obsolete, the theoretical and the

material necessarily exist at a division across a wide gap, an infinite

distance between concept and moment, as Blanchot would argue.

Now I do not want to reject the affective consequences of direct action.

Going on missions, smashing bank windows, taking out surveillance

cameras, building barricades, running through streets, has a large

affective result for a lot of people. For some of us who grew up in

places that elevated property to the status of the sacred, destroying

property is a way to break free from that culturally imposed limit. For

those of us who grew up in places where there was very little property

to fetishize, destroying banks and fighting cops exists as an outlet for

the rage that we had always felt about the positions that we had been

relegated to from birth. It was a way to get over the fear that the

police had instilled in us from a very young age when they rolled up on

us, searched us, walked into our classrooms to pull people out for

questioning, beat us for minor infractions and then dropped us off

without being arrested (because arrest would entail explanation), the

killings in cold blood, the criminalization of our youth, the friends

locked in the dungeons of America; for us it was about finding a

catharsis, a way to fight, a way to feel powerful in a world that

constantly beat us down. But often this discourse of affectivity tends

to focus on only the “positive” or “empowering” aspects of property

destruction and fails to deal with the trauma, the mental affects that

this has had on a lot of us who have been in serious situations. (This

has a lot to do with the inattention that trauma gets in our community,

but that is a topic for another essay.)

This focus on affectivity is a result of and reinforces a certain theory

of isolation. To focus on the affective in action to the exclusion of

the coimmanence with the effective, is only possible through a dual

isolation, the isolation of agents and the isolation of actions. The

focus on the affective exists within a focus on subjectivity. We all

love the Situationists, but they made this same error. While recognizing

that our actions can cause wider destabilizations, the purpose of these

destabilizations became about the manifestation of some subjective

desires. Now, I am not rejecting the existence of a certain sense of the

subjective, rather I argue that we need to reject the separation of this

so-called subjectivity from some form of objectivity. In other words, we

need to reject the basic error of the Enlightenment, which is the

separation of the subjective from the objective, the individual from the

totality of our existences, the self from history. It is an error that

permeates Kant and Hegel and that has crept in to this discourse of

affectivity. To focus on the subjective to the exclusion of effects, or

of the external and tactical, is to isolate our existence into the

perpetuation of some form of the individual, to isolate ourselves from

the very conditions and possibilities of our existences. Not only is

that the same move replicated in all capitalist discourse (the isolated

producer who owns property, implying exclusion as well as use), it is

also the generation of a subject who cannot speak, who has no context

for words, no way to make sense of things, no way to actually experience

phenomenon, all of which imply an externality.

In this isolation of agents there is also a co- immanent isolation of

actions. We tend to see single smashed windows, or even instances of

large scale property destruction, as actions in themselves, as if they

have meaning in themselves. Theory only exists as a way to make sense of

the world, it cannot actually describe moments that always exist as

singular, unrepeatable, unreplicatable. In other words, all actions are

possible due to the dynamics of everything that has ever occurred, yet

that totality of actions is inaccessible in a moment and particular to

that moment, while the attempt to construct conceptual understandings of

moments implies some sort of constancy across moments. Theory is the

impossible attempt to chain moments together, to generate concepts from

some notion of a constancy of actions. It forgets that describing a

moment, all the dynamics that led to the manifestation of a certain

possibility, all the possible meanings, all the moments that have ever

occurred, is impossible from the positionality of theory as something

that occurs at a particular time and place; the theoretical requires

transcendence that in itself is impossibile. To put it another way, acts

of property destruction in themselves are meaningless, all actions are

materially meaningless. Not that they do not have effects, but rather

that there is no way to theorize about the affect/effect of an action or

moment isolated from the totality of history that led to that moment and

there is no way to make sense of history in any way that is not just

more or less persuasive speculation.

Yet, this fetishization of property destruction as an action in itself

is the attempt to do just that. When we isolate actions from the

totality of history that led to the possibility of that action itself in

order to make sense of the action itself, we ignore the relevence of the

context that the action exists within, the terrain of conflict that

constructs possibility, the effects that action has in the construction

of history, or the dynamics of the the tactical medium itself. This is

just a really long way to say that we need to see beyond single actions,

beyond single windows, beyond single streets isolated by the tactical

medium that made these moments possible. In all instances of property

destruction another phenomenon is presenting itself, one that we need to

be able to see and analyze, if only speculatively. Rather than seeing

single actions outside of the dynamics that they exist within, we need

to look at tactical mediums as a dynamic, as a conflict and collision.

When we look at the burning of cop cars in Toronto, the smashing of

shopping districts in Santa Cruz and Asheville, the riots that broke out

in Pittsburgh, the property destruction around Oakland after the verdict

in the Oscar Grant case, we see one commonality. In each of these

instances, and in innumerable other sites of unrest globally, beyond the

property destruction, beyond the taking of streets, beyond the

barricades, these events were possibile because of the disruption of

police coverage, the disruption of the ability of police to suppress

conflict, to close gaps in coverage and projection, to police as a

material totality. What we are witnessing is not the result of any one

action, any one window, but the result of a disorganization of the

ability of the cops to define territory and situations, a break down

that is always possible if we only take a moment to analyze police

tactics through a certain lens, a lens of immediacy, of the immediate

material operations of policing itself.

Again, this is not a rejection of the legitimacy of property destruction

nor is this an attempt to discourage property destruction—whatever

choices people make in actions are the choices they make. Rather, this

is a rejection of the attempt to systematize property destruction by

only focusing on this one gap in police coverage, to only see the gap as

an opportunity to break stuff, rather than as a disruption of the very

logistical capacity of police to project through space, a disruption

that can be expanded and amplified. In other words, when we separate the

gap from the dynamics that create these gaps we lose the resonance

amplified by conflict and destabilization (an amplification that

implicates the state’s functioning on larger levels as well) and instead

we take actions as isolated opportunities. What many seem to have been

forgotten is that insurrection is not a fulfillment of some conceptual

conditions, but an immediate and material rupture in the attempt of

police to maintain operational coherence.

There has been a lot of discussion about a Plan B: abandoning instances

of conflict with the police to go elsewhere to exploit gaps in coverage

to engage in property destruction. The concept underlying Plan B, that

attacks and actions should be occurring outside of concentrations of

conflict, is sound. It is based in the necessity of the crisis in

policing, the impossibility of a totality of policing. But, rather than

seeing the gaps in police coverage—the impossibility of total

policing—as something that can be amplified, Plan B takes these gaps as

“the best we can do,” as something to be exploited by single actions

that can be easily mediated and repaired. It begins from the assumption

that we are already defeated, that no new possibilities are able to be

generated, that the situation is totally defined, and then entrenches

this notion of defeat in our actions and the way we imagine our tactical

possibilities. Because, really, what is the importance of broken glass,

how much existential weight does a smashed ATM screen carry? What we

need to see is that even isolated attacks, when frequent, are important

to the degree that they stretch police logistics to the breaking point,

to the point of rupture. They are not imperatives in themselves, or do

they carry some essential conceptual weight on their own. We need to

look beyond the isolation of moments imposed by the thinking underlying

Plan B. This rejection of Plan B is not in favor of some “Plan A,” but

an attempt to take the thing that Plan B recog- nizes—which is that

there is always a necessary gap in police coverage, that policing exists

as a dynamic in crisis—and amplify this crisis rather than accepting it

as static, something outside of our engagement, that only opens the way

for isolated actions. Until we analyze policing as an operation in

constant crisis we are doomed to minor attacks (that leave almost no

marks mere hours later), locked within a strategy of defeat.

The Impossibility of Total Policing or Why Policing Exists as Motion

War is the province of chance.

In no other sphere of human activity must such margin be left for this

intruder.

—Karl von Clausewitz

When we look at police it is all too easy to see the riot shields, the

armored personnel carriers, the tear gas, and the lock-step formations

and forget that the police operate within a certain paradox, a certain

impossibility. When we are on the streets it is easy to see the cops as

some mechanistic force, marching to orders, and we forget that they

themselves move, that these actions exist within a dynamic terrain of

conflict. To move outside of the context of viewing policing in

mechanistic forms is not an attempt to “humanize” police, to make them

into people with feelings. The very basic reality of policing itself is

that the police exist as a logistical form of organization that attempts

to accomplish the impossible.

Like our friends that demand that theory can speak of the world itself,

that it is directly applicable, the cops exist in the vain attempt to

organize space and to channel possibility to manifest some abstract

theoretical principle, the construction of their own materially

impossible coherence as well as the unity of time and space in the very

operations of policing. In the construction of police logistics a

certain coherence is relied upon, in which moments can find some

connection—even though this implied connection rejects the particularity

of these moments, how they exist in particular ways, with particular

dynamics, in particular times and spaces. Authorities have constructed

all sorts of mechanisms to force some sort of coherence into police

logistics, but cannot overcome the material particularity of actions,

which always demonstrates this coherence as mythological and logistical,

at best.

The state itself exists as a theoretical principle— the idea of the

nation as a unit, the idea that law can express some truth or operate

with immanence, the idea that those who construct laws could possibly

represent others. The state is something that is created partially

through paper, in constitutions, in theory books. There have been a lot

of really fascist theory books written, there have been a lot of

attempts to generate some all-knowing theoretical principle that defines

life itself; these are problematic enough. But what we need to

understand is that the state, though formed around certain notions of

the world, does not exist on paper. Rather the state is the logistical

attempt to make concepts manifest materially, to manipulate the concept

of unity in a materially total way, as an immediate and material form.

In other words, the state itself does not exist without the attempt to

structure the material possibilities of our lives, to construct

immanence in the moments that are our existence; it cannot exist without

conceptualizing all change, all life, all contingency, within certain

defined limits that attempt to transcend the theoretical and become

material. Not only must the state project theoretical principles

(whether these are laws or “revolutionary principles” does not matter)

into the future and across all space, particular momentary existences,

and all moments from the moment of construction, but— barring the state

leaving the material world suddenly and becoming the “kingdom of god”—it

must do so at every moment, moments that are increasingly divergent from

the moment of conception. Put another way, the state is a constant

operation, a constant attempt to channel the dynamics of everyday life

into the models generated by politicians, to make some constancy of

moments operate in spite of the singularity and particularity of moments

themselves. Theory is just not enough to accomplish this task.

Regardless of how bought-off the average American may be, they still

interpret this form of agreement through a particular series of

circumstances and experiences, in a particular way that changes

momentarily.

To cross this gap, to make the theoretical operate, requires a

logistical form of organization: the police. To put this another way, it

is not that the state is not at base a conceptual construction, it’s

just not one that can be grouped into the categories that we have

generated to understand political history. It is not that that the

United States is a liberal democracy, it is that the United States is a

conceptual construction based on a unitary concept of time and space, in

that it constructs its own reality, which exists in wildly divergent

ways in different spaces and at different times. The United States

exists as what it is now, a conceptual coherence existing at a distance

from the attempt at coherent operation, not as some expression of a

certain reality constructed in times gone by by rich white men. Rather,

it is that the ideological allegiance claimed by the state itself,

though it can serve to set a series of abstract limits to the state’s

operation (we have elections periodically, for example, and courts), is

in itself largely inconsequential. To put this another way, the question

is not the “what,” the attempt to conceptually define the state

conceptually (which implies a materially impossible coherence and

differentiation); rather, the question is “how,” a question of tactical

operation in the impossible attempt to overcome the infinite distance

between transcendental concept and materially particular moments.

When we think of the state we must not think of a political operation,

an operation borne of an absence of conflict. It is, instead, the

attempt to operate as a totality in a constantly shifting tactical

medium constructed through conflict and a collision of many dynamics of

action projected into space. It is the mobilization of politics, the

dynamics of conflict in space, to end politics, to construct a unity of

time and space that can only exist in a terrain devoid of conflict. In

this the state is always utopian, and utopia always implies the

construction of absolute unity and the end of all conflict. To say this

another way, the state is not, at its most basic, a political reality.

Rather it is a logistical policing operation that attempts to avert

conflict, that attempts to be the end of politics itself. For many of us

this is clear in the post-Cold War age (hell, Francis Fukuyama wrote The

End of History and the Last Man about this end of politics). But we need

to see beyond the historical moment of the manifestation, or increasing

apparent success, of this attempt to end politics and understand that

the very possibility of this move lies in the basis of the state itself.

This may all seem like so much hot theoretical air, but the point is

that when we speak of the state it makes no sense to talk of policies.

Rather we need to see policies (and politicians) as nothing but certain

appropriations of an attempt to operate a conceptual “unity,”

materially, in a constantly shifting tactical medium, through constant

policing. Concepts of law, citizenship, and so on attempt to define

existence, regardless of the particularities of time and space in

moments, as a singular unity—which in itself is impossible. Policing is

the attempt to operate a logistics of force to construct this unity, but

this requires a total operation in all moments simultaneously. A

constant operation is waged every day to operate a coherence of the

operations of the State in a moment. This, by the very fact that it is

constructed by actions that are constantly generating different

possibilities, is in itself necessarily particular in each moment.

Regardless of the structure of unity that policing is an attempt to

construct, this can only function in different, particular ways in each

and every action taken by each and every cop in each and every moment,

and never, even in itself, as a unity. The state is a logistical

phenomenon, one that exists in a state of constant crisis. It is

impossible to transcribe the theoretical, the legal, the ideological,

onto the material. This material attempt to construct the state in a

moment—to at once define existence in the theoretical-legal while at the

same time encompassing and defining innumerable constantly shifting

particular manifestations—the attempt to logistically operate this

definition materially, is at once both occurring (police function in

time and space), while at the same time impossible. For all the attempts

to construct the unity of time and space, moments can never be defined

in their totality; for all the attempts to construct the coherence of

police logistics, these logistics fails to operate in a unified way; for

all the attempts to project policing into every moment, they can only

cover so much ground.

What this all points to is a certain impossibility of the state, an

impossibility that shows itself in the constant crisis of its logistical

operations, and the tactical possibilities (and lack of them) that this

crisis generates. Policing, the attempt to make the state material, is

also a vision of a logistics in constant crisis, one that is dealing

with a dual impossibility. On the one hand, there is no possibility of

total policing spatially and mathematically. If policing were total,

then the very differentiation of “police” would be an impossibility; the

state would always already be an actual material immanence, and our

existences would collapse into irrelevancy. To the degree that the

police manifest through a separation, between police and non-police,

this totality remains always already impossible. So, if we take the many

thousands of cops that were brought out in Pittsburgh for the G20—or the

50,000 that they are mobilizing for the G20 in Seoul, South Korea—and

stick them side by side, they cover very little space. If we add all the

fancy toys and vehicles that they use, they cover a little more space,

but not much. And these mobilizations include much larger numbers than

in normal days when summits are not in town. If we space these numbers

out across a major city their coverage begins to look rather weak. This

all indicates that the police need to operate through projection. They

need to project themselves across space in order to amplify the

effectiveness of these numbers. To help with this they use, among other

things, communications and vehicular transportation. In other words, the

police are a logistical operation in constant movement, in constant

motion, and they rely on the ability to move through space, either

materially or virtually, in order to construct operational coherence.

This projection is also amplified through the use of snitches, stings,

undercovers, and informants, to destroy our ability to trust our space

and those around us. They stick cameras up at intersections and in what

they call “troubled neighborhoods,” with big flashing lights on top, to

give off the impression that we are being watched. When we see it this

way, we begin to see the police not as an institution but as a

logistical operation in constant motion that is attempting to construct

the territory that we live in, the tactical medium of conflict and

resistance. As we see in the 21^(st) Century metropolis, criss-crossed

by its overlapping networks of surveillance, the structure of space

impacts police operations as much as police operations shape the

dynamics of space. If they were relying on force and physical presence

in itself, they would quickly lose control; instead they attempt to

project themselves through space to operate a certain, conceptual,

tactical terrain. What this means is that, regardless of the fear that

cops strike into the hearts of many, there are always gaps, there is

always crisis.

The second impossibility of policing is all the more glaring in light of

the first. It is not that we can just look at the problems with this

logistical operation numerically, it is that this numerical limitation

implies the inability to project across all space simultaneously, all

the time, and therefore requires movement, action, which in itself

generates conflict and modifies the dynamics of terrain, and thus the

dynamics of operation. The police have developed all sorts of ways to

amplify their projection through preparing the ground, so to speak. So

much time and resources are spent by police departments every year on

DARE programs, Neighborhood Watch, and auxiliary programs, all to

amplify this projection; and this does not even mention the more sublime

weapons: the tear gas, helicopters, and now sound weapons that are meant

to be projections of force over vast areas in the literal sense rather

than just potentially or metaphorically. The attempt to operate a

material unity, which assumes an elimination of conflict in space (a

total peace), comes to operate through organizing conflict. In order for

the police to operate they must mobilize the very dynamic that they are

trying to operate coherently and without internal conflict, action

itself. As already mentioned, the very necessity of all action, all

moments, is that through action contingency and possibility are

generated affectively/effectively. New possibilities are generated, new

things occur that have never occurred before. The totality of history,

the entirety of the collisions of everything that has ever occurred in

any one moment is now a different totality, even in something as simple

as a breath.

So the tactical medium in which action is carried out is a constantly

shifting phenomenon. For the police to function with any coherence, they

attempt to “unify,” operate, and define these moments; to chain them to

other moments, to construct some form of coherent and constant discourse

of moments that functions materially. It is not in the theoretical that

the issue arises—all theory takes on this transcendent mode, and

constructs a sort of consistent totality. Rather, it arises in the

attempt to bridge this gap from the theoretical to the material, from a

notion of sense to manifesting materially and totally. At the moment of

operation the very actions that are mobilized to bridge this gap from

the theoretical to the material (or from the strategic to the tactical),

end up generating contingencies, shifting the tactical medium, and

generating the very destabilization that the police are organized to

prevent. In other words, the point here is not our value judgements, not

our individual opinions of the actions of the police, the way they

violate our humanity, their use of force. Rather, what is at issue is

that the very attempt to logistically operate policing is in itself

paradoxical, impossible; the very operation itself is one that always

attempts to mediate the very internal crisis that it generates in its

own operation. In other words, rather than seeing police as a static

form of military organization, we need to see the magnitude of the

paradox. To function as pure policing, a policing that realizes some

form of “pure policing” (in which the state through policing applies

totally and defines all moments), circumstance could never change, all

moments would be defined by the operation of policing, and policing

itself would be some inert total form of existence. In order for them to

maintain order they could never act because all action unleashes

conflict into the tactical terrain that the organization of policing is

mobilized to prevent. In the very fact that policing does act, in the

very fact that action occurs to the degree that it does, in infinite

ways at all moments, the very operation of policing must be one that

always is in motion and thus an operation that is always causing a

crisis in its own mobilization. It is this impossibility that leads to

the material impossibilities of policing (the mathematical gaps that

always must persist, combined with the paradoxical attempt to use action

to cease action) that really makes politics possible. If politics itself

is a conflict (a collision between innumerable desires and the

possibilities of action), then the very operation of policing can only

operate cryogenically, in the impossible attempt to cease this motion

while at the same time amplifying it, through its very operation. The

impossibility of pure policing is the impossibility of the philosophical

becoming material, of moments becoming defined within a total unity of

time and space. It is not that they don’t try to realize the “promises

of philosophy,” it is that the very attempt implies a fascist attempt to

define life itself. This attempt to materialize the philosophical found

expression in the Terror and the gulag, one organized around concepts of

virtue and the other around concepts of the revolutionary. This is the

mistake of radical movements that always exists on the horizon. We see

this ambition in all the great tyrants, from Robespierre to Lenin, from

your local police captain to the president, the goal is always the same:

“to fulfill the intentions of nature and the destiny of man, realize the

promises of philosophy” (Robespierre).

Because the police exist as a logistical organization always in crisis,

the basic categories of analysis that we have been using, those of

victory and defeat, are outmoded. The very category of victory (how many

hours have been devoted to talking about “what victory looks like”) is

an impossibility. To claim victory implies that at some moment all

action has ceased, that there is a static situation in place that can be

termed victorious. But just as for the police, victory is impossible.

Rather than victory we need to be thinking of movement, of speed, of the

multiplication of possibilities. In other words, the logistical

organization of the police is not an object to be defeated, rather it is

an operation that, in the very constancy of crisis, can be disorganized

and rendered increasingly inoperable. Defeat would mean the end of all

options, the complete total end of action itself. But as we have

mentioned at length, the very operation of the police generates

possibilities in its attempt to eliminate possibility; it creates

contingency in the constant security operation meant to define

situations.

This means that there is never a tactical dead end, there are always

other options, other possibilities, to the degree that we stop seeing

the police as an institution that can control single actions, to the

degree that we stop seeing our actions as singular and begin to think of

this conflict as a fluid tactical medium. The real fallacy of Plan B is

not even so much that it entrenches defeat (although it does), but that

it operates within the categories of victory and defeat. Plan B-based

tactical thinking entrenches the idea that we are already defeated in

our attempts to be “victorious” over police and then comes around to

saying that our defeat can be mitigated by opening up other planes of

conflict only to the degree that the police are absent. In this

approach, in this form of tactical essentialism, in which all tactical

moments somehow become common and understandable through singular

conceptual frameworks, the terrain of action itself becomes some inert

totality, and we fail to identify the tactical points of convergence and

possibility as they manifest in particular moments. We need to see

beyond these categories of victory and defeat and see the proliferation

of possibilities in front of us all the time. Until we do this we are

doomed to thinking the police are stronger than we are, and to

entrenching this defeat in approaches that further construct our

position as being defeated.

Constant Crisis and Capacity

Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with

insecurity is the only security.

-John Allen Paulos

As we mentioned earlier, the impossibility of policing numerically and

tactically means that the police must operate through projection. This

means not just that they need to operate and move quickly, both in

communication and logistics, but also that, as a movement, they require

absence of interference to function. Every person on the street who

calls the cops, everyone who gives them information, all the snitches

and informants, all the cameras, are minor compared to the effect of

organizing space through “self-control”. Not only do police project

themselves spatially in a material way but the crux of their ability to

construct space, their ability to operate in non-resistant spaces, is a

product of their projection: not where they are, but their ability to

project anywhere. In the most concrete terms possible, it is not that

people do not shoplift because there is a cop in every store but that

the notion of being able to shoplift is made difficult by the

possibility of arrest, by the possible projection of police into a space

where they are not within or apparent. However, as much as this

deterrent effect, this ability to project through space, may seem total,

it is not. Otherwise the police would not need to function, let alone be

armed. All spaces, all times, all terrains present their own particular

resistances, from the potholes in the streets to the tendency of many to

have a deep hatred and resentment toward the police—let alone when

certain terrains present much more concentrated resistance. And all of

these resistances to police movement disrupt their ability to project.

This conflict in space, combined with the conflict from the effects of

police action, generates a crisis for the coherence of police

operations.

To think of crisis as something that occurs only episodically is to

think that at some moment there is a condition in which a catastrophic

collapse is not possible, in which moments are actually determined and

defined existentially, in which policing functions totally; this can

never be the case unless we assume that policing has structured some

metaphysical truth of some sort or another. As such, we cannot just look

at crisis as something that can occur, or consequently goes through

periods where it does not occur. The mistake that works like Nihilist

Communism makes is assuming that because a situation does not seem to be

in crisis, that it is stabilized in a complete and metaphysical way,

that there are no other possibilities. In other words, and to use an

argument from Capital (Volume 1), it is not that abstract value actually

functions, rather it must be inscribed over moments constantly; in

itself it is an impossibility. To say that crisis is ever eliminated,

that there are periods of crisis and periods of non-crisis, is to make

the assumption that concepts actually come to be joined with and define

moments and objects. It is not that crisis exists or does not exist.

Rather it is that crisis is perpetual in the attempt to actualize the

philosophical, to operate any unity of moments across time and space.

Instead of seeing crisis as only existing in some moments and not

others, we need to embrace the impossibility of philosophy becoming

actualized and treat crisis as something with magnitude, as generating

more or less resistant mediums of operation, or tactical mediums that

become disruptive to the point of disorganizing policing’s attempt to

logistically materialize definitions.

Policing develops logistical structures around the capacity to contain

this crisis, to prevent it from taking on such power that the semblance

of coherence ruptures, due to either internal or external factors.

Policing therefore cannot be understood as something to defeat, but

rather as a projection to disrupt and disorganize, a crisis that can be

amplified to the point where their capacity is exceeded. This capacity

is not just material (the number of vehicles and personnel that can be

mobilized) but the ability to mediate contingency, to operate

logistically, to define territory according to strategy. That capacity,

as the ability to logistically project across time and space, allows

them to deal with the crisis implicit in the operation of policing. When

that capacity is exceeded the police are reduced to nothing but a

physical force that operates in direct physical contact, responding to

situations without being able to either define the limits of movement or

space, unable to project coherent force, unable to maintain a coherence

of operations, reduced to nothing but isolated individual units

separated from their logistical network. This is what we call rupture;

it is the disorganization of the logistics of policing and the policing

of logistics. We should not understand rupture as some privileged

historical moment, yet another metaphor for Revolution. Rather rupture

exists fluidly and alongside space where projection can operate, as a

concentration of conflict in space, particular to a space and terrain.

But it is these ruptures, these gaps in coverage where projection ceases

to operate, that can be expanded and amplified.

What the act of property destruction recognizes is this gap in coverage,

this space, either through direct resistance, fluid movement through

space, or logistical incapacities that actions can deploy from or into.

But, in limiting our imagination to the exploitation of this gap for a

single action, rather than tactically amplifying these gaps, the real

importance of these gaps, of this crisis, is missed. It is not that we

are looking at an inert map, with some spaces covered and others not. We

want to exploit that to attempt to cover these gaps, police have to

engage in logistical shifts, stretching their resources even further,

creating more gaps that have to be covered. It is in this that policing

logistics become stretched, that their capacity is exhausted, that

crisis amplifies, and rupture occurs; it is this point of rupture that

is called insurrection. Each and every thing that occurs, each breathe,

each step, each person leaving a building or crossing a street, each

conversation, generates a new contingency and a series of possibilities

that police logistics have to compensate for in order to maintain their

projections, and this ability to cope with and mitigate the

possibilities generated through basic, banal, everyday actions is

limited. Each act of property destruction gives them something else to

respond to, each barricade disrupts their ability to project through

space, each action amplifies the crisis that is always present,

especially in spaces where pacified self-control does not operate

totally. The police are constantly disorganized, there is no actual

logistical coherence, only the occasional ability to contain crisis; it

is just a matter of whether this time they have the capacity to project

or reinscribe themselves into space. This is why they patrol constantly,

why they stand on sidewalks, why they use overwhelming brutality: all

attempts to amplify this projection, to operate in the face of their own

uncertainty.

In a story about the Greek insurrection in 2008 an anarchist said that

they knew the insurrectionary events had resonance when they realized

that old ladies were smoking cigarettes on the train and telling the

cops who came to stop them to “fuck off!” In other words, the

insurrection had resonance because, long after the windows were

replaced, long after the streets were cleared of the burned-out

carcasses of cars, the ability of the police to project themselves

through space, the ability of the state to operate logistically, was

still disrupted. And in this disruption people inhabited the space to

realize new possibilities, even if that only meant that people smoked

with impunity on the subway.

In every action that occurs there are effects, and in these effects the

terrain of action shifts, disrupting the ability of the police to

maintain a coherence of operation. This infinite distance between the

dynamics of action in space and the ability of police to gather

information, interpret this information, and generate operations becomes

even wider when action is accelerated, and when actions occur in

concentration. We can clearly see this in the riot, where the spatial

and conflictual amplification of action can quickly overwhelm police

logistics—not because these logistics are attacked directly (although

this can contribute to rupture)—but because the terrain of conflict can

get dense so quickly that there is no ability to mount a coordinated

response. Property destruction actions cause points in the constellation

of response, that the police can compensate for, that are easily

containable as single points in isolation; the police show up, the

window frame is boarded, and the window replaced in a short period of

time. In this containability these strikes fail to generate an

amplification of conflict which can overwhelm and disorganize police

logistics, but it does not have to be this way. The isolation of the act

of property destruction comes from the tendency to analyze the

action-in-itself, the isolated action. This analysis removes property

destruction from the dynamics of action and conflict that surround these

actions, preventing both the process of targeting actions for maximum

effectiveness, and understanding this effectiveness in reference to the

dynamics of policing and resistance in that space. As an action,

property destruction can be a form of amplification, but this means

moving beyond the tendency to think of the action-in-itself, or in terms

of affectivity (the tendency to explain away the lack of tactical

thought through claiming that the act of destruction is some act of

desire). We can do better, but only to the degree that we move away from

conceptual understandings of philosophical conflicts. This requires a

simple shift in the way that action is thought, away from the idea of

the isolated action taken for conceptual reasons, and into a sober,

material analysis of the dynamics of conflict and policing where they

occur, when they occur, and how they occur.

If we fail to do this, we will continue to be locked into this faulty

concept that actions become more and more radical or effective to the

degree that they become more materially destructive, a mentality that

pervades organizations like Deep Green Resistance—reducing all terrain

to a collection of inert infrastructural points. In this approach the

action is isolated from its dynamics, and we fail to even engage in a

discussion of effective action. When effectiveness becomes obscured all

that we can do is engage in isolated actions, with the vain hope that

something will result from them. Actions are always external and

externalizing, moving into a space outside of the physical confines of a

particular existence and having effects in this external space; action

is not about the self, but rather about what exists outside, as a

dynamic between things. It is this dynamic between things that is the

plane of operation of the police, structured around attempting to

regulate the movement of people through space, the actions that can be

taken, and the dynamics that can form. But, insurgency is also a product

of this space, the point in the dynamics of space where this space

becomes so resistant that policing becomes impossible. This does not

occur by focusing discussions of actions on abstract threats and

personal affirmation. It is not a question of means, property

destruction, direct action, and so on, but of how these means are

thought, and on what level they are able to have a resonant effect in an

immediate material situation.

Conclusion

The movement of time is guaranteed by the birth of generation after

generation, a never-ending succession that fills the gods with fear

—Mikhail Bakhtin

The fetishization of property destruction makes various serious errors,

but two are primary. First, it relegates action to isolated times and

spaces. When we focus on individual broken windows, or spaces of

concentrated destruction, we fail to see the tactical terrain that made

this space possible, the amplification of the constant crisis in

policing that generated this possibility. Instead, we relegate action to

isolated points in a vacuum, separated from the tactical medium. We need

to understand that property destruction has a space, but it is not in

riot porn videos on Youtube. Property destruction exists as one of many

means to amplify the crisis in policing, to generate space for more

actions to occur which further amplify this crisis to the point of

rupture, the point of disorganization. But we need to understand this

rupture, this disorganization, not as an end but as the possibility of

possibility itself, as a beginning. But, we must be clear,

disorganization is not some goal, something to be thought in itself as a

conceptual ideal, but rather is a constant movement that makes policing

impossible and severs the state from any possibility of manifestation.

Fetishization of property destruction has taken these gaps in coverage,

the crisis in policing, for granted. It has squandered them on actions

that only exist in isolated moments, that begin and end with the swing

of a crowbar rather than understanding the broken window as something

that amplifies, as something that disorganizes, or has resonance.

Property destruction can be used tactically, as a generation of another

point of response and as a a potential amplification of crisis, but only

to the degree that we can move beyond the fetishization of property

destruction, the focus on the action itself in a vacuum, and begin to

understand it as a potentially effective action that is taken in

reference to its effectiveness.

As was mentioned earlier, we must get beyond the notions of “victory”

and “defeat,” but this requires us to challenge another categorical

mythology handed down to us from the trajectory of traditional politics:

the myth that movements in themselves accomplish anything directly. We

have to dispel the notion that anarchists are the movement, that we

directly construct the new world. This trap has led us down the road of

traditional politics too often, into the trap of defining moments and

enacting theory. If we learn anything from the gulags, the massacres,

and the numerous other failures of the radical project, it should be

that once we go down this road of defining moments, the moment we go

beyond understanding our role as anything but being another disruption

to the functioning of the state, then we come to replicate the

impossibilities that have plagued all politics, the arrogance of

disregarding the basic fact that theory exists at a divide from the

material. Once we forget that we come to replicate the police. It is not

that we ourselves cannot have politics, it is not that we cannot take

positions (on one level all insurgency is an attempt to encourage a

density of positions and possibilities that can enter into conflict).

Rather, we should not be so arrogant as to assume that those are

something other than attempts to make sense of the world. It is not

about the operation of theory, which is really nothing but an opinion

from a particular point of view, but about generating the possibility of

possibility; of generating the possibility of politics itself through

the disorganization of the police.

What Is Policing?

Policing as Paradox

Politics is generally seen as the set of procedures whereby the

aggregation and consent of collectivities is achieved, the organization

of powers, the distribution of places and roles, and the systems for

legitimizing this distribution. I propose to give this system of

distribution and legitiza- tion another name. I propose to call it the

police.

—Jacques Ranciere, Dis-agreement

Insurgency, an intentional engagement in social war, is always an

immediate and material dynamic. It is a series of actions with effects

in immediate moments in time and space, within a particular convergence

of the dynamics of history, but we would never be able to grasp this by

listening to our activist friends and the ways that resistance is spoken

about in those circles. Listening to movement rhetoric, we are

transported to a world where metaproblems exist, where political

passions and concepts of true speech somehow mean something in

themselves, where the interests of the movement mean more than taking

materially effective action. A feedback loop builds: they talk to one

another about the reasons they resist, and the conceptual frameworks

that justify certain actions, but never about the actual dynamics of

resistance, or the terrain in which one fights. In this discourse two

questions are fused together: one involving the actual dynamics of

action and history and the other how we conceptually make sense of this

in more or less consistent, but still arbitrary, ways. Rather than this

odd sort of meta-analysis, which prevents us from engaging in a way to

understand and impact the operation of the state, we must start to ask

questions of operation, the inscription of concepts, or policies (which

are just conceptual), into time and space (rather than concepts like

ethics and political desire). It requires an approach to action that

starts from a sober reading of the dynamics of operation, the moments in

which operation occurs, and the structuring of space. To engage with the

dynamics of resistance, of fighting and thus of warfare, means to

separate these questions of events and the ways that we make sense of

events in a conceptual sense, to analyze action on the level of

immediacy, and to take action based on this concept of the immediate. In

this analysis there is no purpose in complaining about corporate

immorality; it is only necessary to understand the operation of land

enclosure, private property, the operations of economics and imposed

scarcity—in short, the administrative and material possibility of

capitalism itself, as a conceptual content that is then operated by the

state, through policing. This means fundamentally shifting the way we

understand what we fight against, the imposition of certain unities and

concepts of unity into everyday life through a material operation. Or,

in other words, the state.

The state always already only exists as a concept in a unitary sense,

and thus as an impossibility. In the concept of the state there is an

attempt to construct a constancy of particular moments, a permanence of

impermanence. This is not where the problem arises. On this level the

state is nothing but one of innumerable manifestations of the

impossibility of philosophy, the attempt to speak of particular

phenomena, and the moments these occur through transcendental and

qualitative concepts. The paradox is this: the state occurs, yet the

conceptual structure of the state prevents anything from occurring. The

conceptual framework defines time and space as a sameness, as inert

space in which all objects and actions are isolated and infused with

this conceptual content; people are citizens or not, actions are illegal

or not. The action becomes removed from itself, the possibilities of

existence become removed from themselves, but this means nothing if it

only exists in the realm of particular concepts that are constructed by

particular people. The question of the state is not a question of the

concept of the state, it is nothing but another manifestation of the

impossibility of speaking truth, and just as arbitrary as any other

conceptual apparatus. The question must shift; it must be a question,

not of the concept,[2] but of the attempt to take a particular concept—

thought in a particular way by a particular person in a particular

moment—and project this concept as a universal definition of existence

and the possibilities of existence totally and materially. For these

concepts to manifest entails a paradox. Particular actions have to be

taken in particular moments, yet with the intention of depriving moments

of this particularity and defining them through the framework of a

material conceptual totality; particular things must occur, even though

these things are impossible within the conceptual totality of the state.

This projection must be material, even though the conceptual framework

eschews all materiality; it must attempt to manifest this totality, even

though this operation only occurs through particular actions, each of

which have effects, and, therefore, fundamentally alter the dynamics of

time and space. We call this attempt—to manifest totality through the

dynamics of the particular—policing.

The state must occur, otherwise we are dealing with nothing but another

conceptual construct, but at this point the state becomes something

partial, historical, and based in the dynamics of conflict and moment.

As such, the state remains an impossibility: the attempt to construct

unity even though things are occurring—all moments are defined, but only

to the degree that policing functions in time and space, and only to the

degree that this operation is effective. For example, it is always

possible to move in to an abandoned building, or take something off of a

store’s shelf. These actions only become “resistance” in relation to

policing. If the state were to function as a totality nothing could

occur, everything would be defined, and if things did occur they would

have to occur without cause, and arise randomly.

Schopenhauer explains this in his description of a nightmare in which

the possibility of truth means that all existence ceases, but concepts

continue to exist. For something to be true nothing could ever change,

all moments would have to be irrelevant, and could not have any effects:

events would just arise with no possible historical dynamics, if they

could arise at all. But, if the concept of the state is separated from

this concept of totality, of the definition of existence in a universal

way, then the state manifests as something that occurs, an arbitrary

deployment of organized force into moments—or warfare. To put this

another way, if the state actually possessed some existential truth then

action would be irrelevant, this truth would just structure all actions;

but, to the degree that the state operates, exists as logistics, then

action is being taken, and that action cannot possibly cover the

totality of time and space—there will always be gaps in coverage, crises

of logistics, and so on. This begins to construct the fundamental

paradox of the state, as recognized in Foucault:[3] the state always

operates as a mobilization of force and conflict in time and space in

the attempt to impose peace, or the end of all possible action. We see

this in Mussolini[4] when he discusses the state as both given and

practically tactile in a historical sense; implying a determinism that

is in- deterministic. He calls this the spiritual immanence of the

state, that things somehow occur, but they are premised by the state as

a material given.

Schmitt argues as much in The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy,[5]

where he draws a fundamental division between the universalized

rationalism of the parliamentary structure and the irrationalism of the

operations of the state. Parliamentary, or conceptual, discourse exists

within a space that assumes the necessity of the conversation, and the

ability to come to some agreement through it. But this is lacking and

paradoxical on two different levels. Firstly, for this concept of the

unitary state to function we have to assume that, somehow, there can be

conflict, necessary for debate, within some ahistorical singularity, the

eternal necessity of the conversation, making the assumption of the

conversation the condition of possibility for all action. Secondly, this

assumes that, within the conversation itself, the solutions generated

are somehow universalized materially without any action. This leads to a

basic separation between this concept of the (political, conceptual)

conversation and the material attempts to operate this conceptual

content in materially universal ways through particular actions. As

such, what Schmitt terms “the state” is a separate, immediate, material,

relationship of force, attempting to operate the content generated by

these conversations. This immediacy moves the state outside of the

framework of the total description, and moves its manifestation into the

immediate and material—a space which cannot be theorized in any sort of

direct way, outside of attempts to make sense of it.

This means, however, that the state cannot be seen as a unitary entity,

or a static condition: its attempt at totality is always unfulfilled.

The attempt to construct the unity of time and space is disrupted by the

emergence of events and actions, including the very functioning of the

state, which has effects, constructs other possibilities and resistances

through these effects, and so on. We cannot see the state as a unitary

entity that makes things occur or imposes restrictions; rather these

restrictions, these definitions of existence, cannot function outside of

the particular actions taken, in the form of policing, which in

themselves are always partial and generate effects and conflict in

themselves by their very occurrence. In this partiality, in this

operation, in this constant flux of history and its convergence into

moments, the state (to the degree that it cannot impose total peace

through the cosmic catastrophe, the end of all action) must always exist

as nothing but the attempt to construct an impossible unity of time and

space, while deploying force into time and space. It can be nothing but

the more-or-less frantic attempt to impossibly operate transcendental

concepts in particular moments, in all moments, in all spaces

simultaneously. If this cannot actually function without causing a

cosmic catastrophe in which all existence ceases to be relevant or ends

all together, if it cannot freeze all dynamics and history, if actions

continue to have effects, then this paradox becomes operational. So, we

cannot think of the state as unifying its concept and its operation. The

concept asserts a unity of time and space that the operation itself

disrupts and makes impossible. The state only exists through this

mobilization of force, and attempts to construct unity in each and every

moment, as a form attempting to construct the operation of some

conceptual content in all moments.

Not only is this partiality of operation, the ability to maintain

operations in only some times and some spaces, but this also constructs

the state as a fundamentally different attempt from the construction of

meaning that motivates and directs this operation. The state exists as

an immediacy, rather than a unity, and can only be effectively

confronted on this level. The constant war waged on our streets every

day is potentially motivated by these concepts of the state, but the

concepts are irrelevant. Rather, the question of the state, and of

confrontation with the logistics of the state, is not a conceptual

question. It is not enough to understand the state—there is no singular

entity to understand—nor to grasp the operations of the police in a

general sense—this is only the attempt to make sense of phenomena.

Engagement, insurgency itself, is a material dynamic, completely outside

of the realm of nice, neat, rationality. On this level, it is not a

question of whether the state is right, or a desirable political

concept, the only aspect we must focus on is this: that the unity of

time and space is impossible to understand, and that the attempt to

operate such a theoretical unity entails an impossibility that leads to

a constant mobilization of force in everyday life.

Yet, as clear as it is that the state operates somewhere, at some time,

this is often obscured in the narratives of resistance to the state.

These narratives tend to attempt an inductive movement, to posit

qualitative content to the particular and material. This accomplishes

nothing but the reduction of policing to a singular conceptual object

(much the way that pacifists do with all conflict) and fail to develop a

framework of analysis for the actual dynamics that occur, preventing a

more or less effective thought of resistance and disruption from

emerging. In too much of the writings about police and policing, writers

fall back into distracting and more-or- less irrelevant moralistic

arguments about brutality and force. All too often, texts on the police

are attempts to construct some unitary narrative of policing as

institutional, as the manifestation of some static institution that

exists independent of history itself. We see this play out in all

discussions of the police racism. It is not that the police are not

racist, obviously. But stating it in this form, and limiting analysis to

this form, implies assumptions that limit the possibility of analysis on

an operational level. For this to be true we have to assume the unity of

the institution of The Police, as an entity that is somehow separate

from the particularities of its operation, of the internal conflicts

within this logistical structure, and as separate from changes in

historical dynamics that modify the manifestations of policing in time

and space. On this level, we ignore the most important aspect of

policing: it occurs somewhere, at some time, and is only existent on

this plane of immediacy.

We see similar analyses play themselves out in ethical arguments about

policing, whether policing is “right” or “wrong.” Just as in this

sociological- historical reading, we must first generate a universal

framework of qualitative analysis, then impart this into the analysis of

a single object. Whenever someone argues that the police are racist or

brutal, individual actions (taken in particular times and spaces) become

isolated from their immediate dynamics as a separate manifestation of a

specific qualitative characterization, and the action and the

characterization are fused into one, single, universal statement. This

is not a problem on the qualitative level of description; I think most

of us would agree that police tend to be racist and brutal. Rather, this

analysis is limited to the ways that we understand the concept that we

call police in an ethical or politically conceptual way. As an immediate

dynamic, policing operates with variance, in particular ways, in

particular times and spaces. In the attempt to impart universal ethical,

emotional, or conceptually political content into these particular

manifestations we obscure the immediacy of this deployment of force, the

ways it is organized materially, and the gaps and crises in that

operation.

This manifestation in a particular time and space is a material

question. Removing the discourse of policing from the discussion of its

immediate and material manifestations, its immediacy and the

implications of this, moves an irrational relationship of force

(mobilized in material moments) outside of its immediacy (attempting to

relate to it as rationally coherent). This sort of removal of immediate

dynamics from themselves is a common framework of tactical discussions,

specifically ones centered around the question of violence (which plague

so-called radical scenes). In this discussion, the action and its

dynamics are removed from their immediacy, frozen in time as some

specific moment to be analyzed, and then analyzed in reference to some

arbitrary classification of ethics, such as the imparting of concepts of

universal effectiveness of definitions of violence/ non-violence to

materially specific and immediate actions. This removal makes it

impossible to speak of the dynamics of the action itself, forcing us to

make sense of the action only in reference to universalized conceptual

totalities, again assuming some over-riding rationality. By conflating

the transcendental concept of policing as a conceptual object, and the

material operations of police logistics, we end up reducing policing to

a static concept in which no action occurs and we ignore the tactical

manifestation of policing as a logistical and totalizing organization of

cohesive force.

As a phenomenon, or series of phenomena grouped together under a single

term, policing must occur in some time and in some place, otherwise we

are speaking of phantasms. But for this to be the case, policing cannot

be reduced to an inert conceptual object: incapable of acting, being,

moving, and so on. We can never group together the concept and the

phenomena of policing into a single entity. Rather, we have to either

speak of the conceptual object of policing, at which point we cease to

analyze the phenomena of policing, or we have to form a different sort

of analysis, to understand policing as a phenomena particular to a time

and space, one that also shifts in form. This entails a fundamental

change, away from the ethical and conceptually political, and into a

grounding in tactical immediacy and logistical dynamics. We can see this

in the rebellions of the “Arab Awakening.” In the initial phases

discourse may be focused on utopian dreams. But when struggle becomes

immediate, when it breaks out onto the streets, discourse grounds itself

in tactical expediency. However, focusing on tactics presents its own

theoretical difficulties. As Clausewitz[6] and Naveh[7] point out,

tactical thought is impossible; one cannot think a particular moment in

all ways without consequently positing that there is truth and that one

could know it, making the effects of material actions irrelevant within

some form of determinism. But strategic thought, or thought grounded in

meta-contexts, is irrelevant; it is merely the way that we think about

particular actions and dynamics, the immediate and material. As such,

Naveh points to a place between strategic and tactical thought:

operational theory. Operational theory is the attempt to think tactics,

while recognizing its impossibility: if tactics are immediate and

material dynamics, then there are no tactics to speak of, in a general

sense. This will be the framework that we start from: the focus on the

immediate and material, and on ways to make sense of this—but outside of

the question of whether these frameworks are true, in the transcendental

sense, or not. The attempt here, therefore, is not to develop some total

understanding of policing, but to develop a framework to evaluate the

materiality of police operations and logistics, as they deploy in time

and space (which will only be judged as to whether it is instrumentally

effective or not).

In this, we can begin to reconstruct our understandings of resistance,

fighting, insurgency, and warfare. There should be no question about

this: insurgency and insurgent movements entail warfare. They exist as

spaces, conceptual categorizations marking the space between friends and

enemies, and in this they are the basis of politics.[8] This designation

is an acknowledgement of both agonism and the immediacy of conflict. The

acknowledgement of agonism is the understanding that conflict structures

history, that everything that occurs does so in the midst of innumerable

other dynamics that have effects on the trajectory of action, making

outcomes impossible to determine, and infusing all operational theory

with a foundation of calculated probability, impermanence, and

uncertainty. Acknowledging immediacy separates the two formerly posed

questions, the immediate dynamics of a moment and the conceptual

meta-analysis of that moment, and focuses on immediacy as a point of

departure. For too long we have been fooling ourselves, convinced that

our politics, in the sense of theory, somehow lead to something called

praxis, an impossible fusion of theory and action. Rather, we have to

approach theory and analysis from a fundamentally different direction:

as something that occurs and thus has effects—as something that is

always either more or less effective.[9]

Policing as Projection and Capacity

To create architecture is to put in order.

Put what in order? Function and. objects.

—Le Corbusier

The police are an occupying force, but of an odd sort. When occupation

is thought of it is usually as a blanket, total, form, one infecting all

aspects of everyday life. But this is always an impossible totality. The

concepts of the occupation are total, a space is occupied and defined by

these operations, but occupation is never a total phenomena, it never

actually enters into the possibility of actions to frame and determine

actions. If it did, then resistance would be impossible. Rather,

policing functions as a logistics of action, held together conceptually

through logistical supply lines, uniforms, command structures,

communications, and so on. This logistics enters into everyday life in a

mythology of the unity of time and space as defined by the occupation,

but this unity never actually functions, possibility is never actually

defined. Policing is a deployment of force in a vain attempt to define

actions, and in the process it must be positioned. It is not some

ethereal force that exercises control over actions (although police

violence definitely acts as a deterrent). All they can do is inject more

or less organized action, which carries more or fewer consequences, in

the attempt to control action, an attempt that is never fulfilled.

As Clausewitz argues, occupation always comes with two

impossibilities.[10] The first is simply numerical. If policing ever

became total, if the constructs of the state ever came to frame and

determine existence, policing would be irrelevant, and all of existence

would be nothing but a drab, defined, playing out of a teleological

script. But, since this is not the case, since theft still occurs,

resistance still happens, people still get into confrontations with the

police, refuse to snitch, and so on, it is simple to see that this

totality does not exist. Therefore, we have to think of police, and the

logistics of policing, as a limited and defined deployment of bodies and

actions into space, and one that only covers a limited amount of space

with a limited number of bodies. For example, take the G20 in

Pittsburgh, which saw assembled the largest single police force in

American history. If we line all of these cops up to the point where

they could control all action in space in a direct way, without weapons,

transportation or movement, they control a very limited amount of space

in a city the size of Pittsburgh; add to this variances in terrain,

which limit movement, the movements of the city and the density of

actions that occur, and the security priorities that keep certain

numbers of police pinned to a location, and that space shrinks further.

In a more extreme example— US military tactical shifts after the War in

Iraq—we see this even more clearly. When the US invaded Afghanistan and

then Iraq, they did so under the fantasy that occupation was

unnecessary, that somehow their very presence would construct some total

capitulation. But, as was found quickly, a low concentration of troops

in resistant terrains allows for the conditions for insurgencies to

flourish, organize, and arm. As a result, they flooded these regions

with troops, stretching their capacity to the breaking point, and not

only still failed to cover the totality of the terrain, but also left

open other terrain, Northern Africa and the Yemen specifically. Their

concentration of troops prevented their projection through space. So

they shifted into low-concentration deployments, backed up by drone

strikes and Special Ops raids, to attempt to cover as much space as

possible, as consistently as possible, but this eliminated their ground

presence and prevents them from holding any space. Literally, unless

every square inch is covered, all the time, there is still the

possibility of resistance action against or outside of the logistics of

policing, making occupation not total. There are always gaps in

coverage.

Secondly, action always changes the conditions and dynamics of action, a

process that can never stop. Actions are within a time and space, a

particular convergence of the dynamics of history, that both forms the

conditions of that action, and also forms through action. Contrary to

Aristotelean concepts of production and action as creation, we never act

within or on some inert object, rather the object presents resistances

that fundamentally change the dynamics of that action. Within the

construction of history, all action generates resistances, shapes the

generated effects of actions coming into conflict with the dynamics of

other actions, in a process that fundamentally shapes the terrain of

action. The state, on the other hand, exists as a definition of

existence in a smooth, total, atemporal way. This means that it

functions only to the degree that it functions totally in every moment,

in all space, all the time, eliminating resistances and effects, and

constructing actions in a smooth, resistanceless environment. The

logistics of policing, the material manifestation of the attempt to

construct the unity of the state in time and space, as time and space,

only functions to the degree that it generates this total coverage

prevented by numerical limitation. If this totality functioned, if all

actions were defined, then we would be faced with a tragic, dystopian

world: the world of immanence. For that to exist we would have to assume

that every action was defined before being taken, the conceptual

definition of that action would have to be the actual condition of

possibility for all action. No actions could have any effects that were

undefined, everything would arise as if disconnected to anything that

occurred prior, if anything could occur at all. In other words, there

would be no possibility of possibility, no ability to modify

circumstance, only a total, metaphysically teleological definition of

the totality of all existence, of which each and every existing thing is

nothing but an expression. But, again, if this were the case then

occupation, the logistics of policing, would be irrelevant. Therefore,

we have to assume that the police act, and that these actions generate

effects. Even in their deployment, even if nothing else occurred, the

dynamics of action are changing, the terrain of action is being

modified, and this is happening in ways that can never be determined.

Conflict still occurs, even just in the relationship of bi-pedal

movement and hard ground, let alone in the collision and friction that

action itself generates. In their very deployment, police generate

friction, conflict, and open up other possibilities of action; history

does not cease in its dynamics. We see this every time a

counterinsurgency plan solicits an ambush, every time police crack down

on a neighborhood and something occurs in another neighborhood, away

from their concentration of force. Their movements change the terrain of

action, and collide with the movements and actions of all other things

that construct that terrain: the degradation of infrastructure, the

growing hatred and resistance to the police, basic “crime” carried out

by the desperate to survive within capitalism, worker absenteeism,

strikes, and so on. Unless, magically, the deployment of the police

actually overcomes the effects of their own actions, and somehow comes

to freeze history in a defined moment, terrain will always shift, and

this shift makes total occupation impossible.

The impossibility of the totality of occupation constructs policing as

an attempt to project through ever greater volumes of space, in ever

more constant ways. The entirety of the history of police methodology

and operations centers around the development of the methods of

projection. From the use of the car to the use of the radio, from the

development of the surveillance matrix (ever more pervasive) to the

construction of task forces, from the move into paramilitary operations

to the development of so-called community policing—these shifts are

undertaken in order to further project through space in more and more

consistent ways. But there are limits to this projection, as we see with

the transition from counterinsurgency to counter-terrorism methodologies

within the US military, where a strategic choice has been made to avoid

long occupations with large force footprints in favor of maximum

projection across space with minimal numbers. With limited numbers

choices must be made: allocation of force, structuring of logistics,

maintenance of supply lines and so on. This becomes more and more

difficult the more resistant the terrain becomes. For example, within

the team-policing structures in Pittsburgh, the police space themselves

throughout a sector, with numerous sectors per zone and six zones within

the city limits. Within a sector police within a team will space out as

far as possible, patrolling streets alone, with one cop per car, and

then converge on a site of response, for example a traffic stop. This

methodology tries for the best of both worlds: spreading out through a

limited amount of space while still being able to swarm a specific area.

Capacity is sacrificed in this operational methodology. As force spreads

throughout the city and is divided between sectors, whenever there is a

point of response (for example in sector a) the entire team converges,

leaving the rest of that sector open, unless force is pulled from sector

b to the empty spots in sector a.

Projection exists in two forms: visual and material. Visual projection

is the capacity to see space and things in space, to develop what in

modern military parlance is termed topsight. In the 19^(th) Century,

police had tended to march through streets in formation, largely so that

they could communicate with one another.[11] This is an often

misunderstood aspect of Napoleonic warfare, and the phenomena of

soldiers marching into lines of gunfire. These formations existed in the

absence of forms of communication that could cross distance. With the

noise of combat, the smoke generated by gunfire, and the lack of radios,

all commands were transmitted either through hand signal or some form of

audible command, and early police forces were no different.

This column formation began to space itself out with the use of whistles

or other noise-makers, but, even with this mild form of projection, the

area that could be projected through was limited. Vision was also

limited, and the ability to gather and transfer information. With the

advent of the radio, then the car, and finally the helicopter and

surveillance camera, policing was able to project through space at

greater speed and communicate over wider distances, allowing for greater

projection.[12] But, even with the total surveillance structure that

cities like New York, Chicago and Cleveland are building, where private

security cameras are linked into the police camera matrix and private,

semi-official police begin to act as support for city police, this

coverage is remarkably limited. Cameras, mechanical vision, cannot in

themselves analyze information—yet. This means that, even with the most

sophisticated tools of surveillance, and the most sophisticated, highly

trained, human analysts, there is only a certain amount of information

that can be processed— even though the amount of information generated

multiplies exponentially with the addition of each new surveillance

apparatus.

Even the most sophisticated surveillance agency, the National Security

Agency, which pulls terabytes of information every hour, only has around

35,000 analysts to look into all this information: millions of phone

calls, millions of emails, millions of web- searches, library records,

on the ground surveillance and so on. Analysis is the chokepoint, and

this gets infinitely more complicated with the anonymity methods that

are used by many of the internet generation. This gap between

information and analysis becomes all the more stark when there is an

attempt to analyze in realtime. At that point, to the degree that a

command structure functions, information is being compiled, sent up the

chain of command, analyzed, turned into orders, and communicated back to

the ground. If actions are quick, even if this analysis becomes absurdly

fast, there is still a gap, both temporal and interpretive, between

action and the analysis of information about action within the command

structure. Secondly, this is still limited to line of sight and

information that can be combined with this vision. This is a primary

difficulty when there is an attempt to crush any sort of insurgency; as

David Galula[13] argues, insurgencies must become the terrain, meaning

that they are incredibly difficult to differentiate from the

“population” (of course assuming that these are not the same thing).

Many experienced people know that it always helps to have a change of

clothes at actions, especially if they make you look like a hipster. A

quick change of clothes when dispersing means often the police will

drive right past you—the simple change of clothes makes them blind.

Anonymity isn’t what exists when our faces are covered, anonymity, as

Baudelaire argued, is the condition that we are relegated to in the

capitalist metropolis. The distance that vision can encompass can be

elongated with helicopters, drones, surveillance planes, cameras and

satellites, but every time this distance multiplies the ability to pick

out the micro-details of that space become more limited.

Material projection is the actual projection of force through space.

Again, this occurs within a balance of concentration and projection. As

policing began to spread out through space, and force concentration

became more and more diffuse, the means of deploying a magnitude of

force increased. Initially, police may have carried nothing more than

night-sticks and sometimes cuffs. Combined with movement on foot, force

could only be projected on a line of bodily movement, and only at the

speed of a quick run, along with the range of movement of the human arm.

As force spread out, through the use of the car and the radio, and then

the helicopter and the armored personnel carrier, this became combined

with the handgun and automatic weapon to increase that projection

dramatically. While the arm may only reach a couple feet from the body,

the gun can project a bullet on a straight line for hundreds of meters,

and with lethal force. This ability to project through the projectile

was again furthered by the grenade, and grenade launcher, pepper spray

and now the Taser, to project different levels of force out from the

body onto a target, with the LRAD[14] able to project concentrated and

targeted soundwaves over a quarter mile. These projections, along with

increasing scales of force, are all ways of project force into space, to

make the visibility achieved through topsight material and operative.

This reliance on the ground force is absolutely essential. Surveillance

can act as a deterrent but not an actual material deployment of force as

the US military found after the first phase of the invasion of

Afghanistan. At the beginning of the war Special Operations and CIA were

on the ground, acting as forward spotters. They would find a target,

send coordinates to a drone overhead, which would send them to a base in

Saudi Arabia, which would beam them to a satellite, and the satellite

would send these to a B-52 that would drop a guided bomb on the area.

This process would take 18 minutes.[15] However, for all the destruction

that can be caused within this structure, the ability to hit targets

evaporated when insurgents abandoned infrastructure and hid vehicles in

mountain passes, making them impossible to spot. This made the US

respond with the commitment of ground forces, which insurgents can

track, which have supply lines, etc, that must be supplied, and so on,

creating a plethora of targets. Even with huge numbers in an area, the

US ability to control the space by physical presence and the projection

of projectiles was incredibly limited. As is often witnessed within

insurgencies, the movement of main force concentrations into an area

meets little resistance, insurgents melting away only to reemerge after

the main force moves on. Material projection is not just a spatial

question regarding the amount of space covered, but also one of time, of

the constancy of that ability to move through space. As Clausewitz

argues, this ability to move through space becomes increasingly

difficult, and force projects less, the more uncertain and resistant the

terrain becomes.[16] Even a single attack can force an entire occupying

force to shift into increasingly dense, defensive, concentrations,

limiting their ability to project through space. The more they

concentrate force physically the less able they are to project

themselves across space as a seemingly constant presence.

Projection of force, visually and materially, is the attempt to

construct a terrain that is conducive to the movements and operations of

policing. We have seen numerous aspects of this within the tactical

terrains that we inhabit: the proliferation of surveillance cameras, the

networking of private cameras into the police surveillance matrix, the

proliferation of private security and semi-official police departments,

and the growth of neighborhood snitch networks, also known as

Neighborhood Watch, but also the leveling of vacant buildings, the

mowing of vacant lots, and so on. Most innovative in the methods of

projection is not a technology, but merely the construction of

metropolitan space itself. The street grid developed in the 19^(th)

Century and the freeway systems in the early and mid-20^(th) Century

made movement through space easier and more efficient. Projection does

not just involve the ability to latently hold space, even outside of

immediate presence,[17] but the ability to move through space. However,

like any technological innovation, the development of the road

structure, standardizing space within Cartesian models, may have made

movement easier, but also disperses concentrations of force and largely

confines police movements to the roads themselves. As in Paris where

Reclus suggested turning into gun turrets the row buildings lining the

newly-built wide boulevards (that now characterize that city), this

confinement to the road generates zones of elongated vision and

projectile movement,[18] but also limits the vision of what occurs off

these roads, in zones of indiscernability, whether Iraq’s open desert

plains, Afghanistan’s mountains, or the “unbuildable” spaces on the

sides of wooded hills in the middle of Pittsburgh. These zones of

indiscernability, of invisibility and possibility, become wider the more

resistance is waged within a space, the less that people snitch each

other out, the more open space off the roads there may be within a

terrain, and the density of the dynamics and physical objects (whether

trees in a forest or barricades on streets) within the lines of flight

within that terrain.

One can easily trace this trajectory of containing land for policing

beginning with land enclosure and the standardization of naming and

surveillance structures in the 16^(th) and 17^(th) centuries, of

policing saturating space more and more thoroughly, as the dynamics of

this space come to shape policing. The co-immanent dynamic between

policing and space can be seen everywhere. In the suburbs we find the

proliferation of private security, on every corporate campus, on every

college campus, in every mall and shopping center, as well as the growth

of increasingly fortified gated communities. In the core of the

metropolis the street grid, the walls around the security buildings and

precinct stations, the proliferation of private and public cameras, the

deputization of pseudo-police forces at colleges and hospitals, the

proliferation of non-police and “task forces” hired by development

organizations, the rise of the community watch group, and the growth of

the federal security apparatus have come to form spaces that are almost

entirely framed around the movements and operations of police. With the

enclosure of space, and the elimination of the commons, the “public” has

become something to protect against. Surveillance saturates the

workplace and the park. Police roll down the street looking for someone

that looks suspicious; the streets in the poorest neighborhoods are

cordoned off and Baghdad-style armed checkpoints are set up on the

streets of LA. Paramilitary tactics are adopted by SWAT teams that

increasingly become aspects of everyday police operations and the

flip-side of the velvet glove of “community policing.” Everywhere we

look the metropolis has become structured around the separation of

space, the separation of bodies, the dispersal of the street[19] and the

fortification of the private. This does not occur in a vacuum, or in the

absence of the attempt to amplify projection across space and time. As

space becomes increasingly striated, increasingly operated upon, space

itself begins to shift around a new series of imperatives. As static as

many of us may feel built space is, the solidity of terrain is largely

mythological. But just as space shifts in order to allow for the smooth

operation of policing (or prevent it),[20] policing has been modified to

operate in the post-WWII metropolis with the incorporation of ever

faster forms of communication, ever more sophisticated forms of

monitoring and surveillance, and ever heavier weapons and paramilitary

tactics.

What we are witnessing is nothing short of a constant security

operation, a constant attempt to eliminate these zones of

indiscernability, structured not only to respond to actions but also to

prevent actions from arising or becoming apparent. Every day this more

defines the spaces that we exist within; it is nothing short of the

expansion of the prison outside of the walls. As in the prison, a

terrain conducive to police movements and operations necessarily

involves an almost total vision, a complete ability to project across

space, the ability to justify unlimited uses of force. But, along with

this, we come into contact with the primary paradox of counterinsurgency

(policing is necessarily a form of occupation, and thus a form of

counterinsurgency). As policing becomes more and more all-pervasive, as

the police become more and more able to mobilize overwhelming

concentrations of force, their very movements generate resistance,

resentment, conflict. As they project through space they become visible,

and the methods of tracking their movements and avoiding their detection

are becoming more and more effective. Even with this growth of the

prison, to encompass all space to varying degrees, illegality[21] still

persists. Every day, acts of economic disruption, like theft and worker

absenteeism, are rampant. The state only functions in the space in which

policing functions, and to more or less of a degree. In these gaps in

coverage, generated by the sheer limitation of police spatial occupation

and the limits of the range of vision and weapons, the concentration of

state logistics is low, and the possibility of action proliferates; this

becomes even more pronounced within spaces where there is an ethic of

noncooperation or outright resistance.

Policing as Social War

Activity in War is movement in a resistant medium. Just as a man

immersed in water is unable to perform with ease and. regularity the

most natural and. simplest movement, that of walking, so in War, with

extraordinary powers, one cannot keep even the line of mediocrity.

—Clausewitz, On War

This projection through space is evident on each and every city street,

from the flashing blue lights of the cameras on the light poles to the

threat of the undercovers. The movements of the gang task force mirror

the movements of the SWAT team, which directly parallels the dynamics of

“community policing” and the designation of some as “undesirable.” In

some places this occupation is barely apparent, but in many it has very

much taken on the aesthetics of an occupation. But, for as much as this

occupation can increase the capacity of policing to contain crisis, and

the ability to project through space, it can never be total. The

impossibility of policing generates a mobilization of an armed

apparatus, in which all moments are assumed to be the terrain of action,

the tactical terrain. On this level, the aesthetic shape of the content

being projected through policing is completely irrelevant. We can sit

around and discuss politics in a conceptual sense, but this is

meaningless. The political is a direct relationship of force and a

dynamic of conflict, something that occurs within the immediate tactical

movements of moments, something that happens.[22] Policing occurs within

a tactical paradox: the attempt to mobilize politics (to differentiate

between friends and enemies), to end politics, or to generate peace.[23]

The concept of peace implies the end of conflict, and thus the complete

determination of actions, the end of friction, the end of the

possibility of mobilizing action, the impossibility of the historical:

total occupation.[24]

Policing always exists as this attempt to operate peace, but through the

mobilization of conflict. It is not that we could wish for more peaceful

police, peace is impossible unless all action ceases or everything

becomes determined, and as an action the logistics of policing are, like

all actions, an imposition of certain dynamics in space. As such,

policing is an impossible attempt, the attempt to mobilize conflict to

end conflict, the attempt to mobilize the effects of actions to prevent

actions from generating any possibility or effects. The impossibilities

of policing necessitate a fundamentally different framework to analyze

the logistics and movements of policing. Rather than the discussion of

some institution, or some singular linear history, policing must be

analyzed on the plane through which it occurs, the tactical, the

immediate, and the material. To function necessarily implies a

mobilization of force throughout space, as thoroughly as possible; or

warfare in every moment in the impossible attempt to operate some

conceptual totality in particular moments. The war of the state is a

paradoxical war (not in the sense of a war between states, but the

constant warfare waged on us in every moment, a war that structures the

space we live in, a total war, a perpetual war).

But, as much as we may be tempted to think this in a generalized, total,

conceptual way, we are missing the underlying structure of warfare

itself. A common fallacy in the analysis of tactics by radicals is the

structuring of a dualistic concept of warfare focused on micro-tactics,

fighting styles and so on; and the meta-structure of strategy, or

generalized histories of battles. This way of thinking misses the

dynamics of conflict. As Clausewitz argues, the war is a series of

engagements that led to some result; the engagement is constructed from

a series of combats, or immediate relationships of conflict, each of

which necessarily changes the dynamics of the terrain of conflict,

shaping future dynamics of conflict.[25] To think “the police” is

neither to think the institution of the police, nor the immediate ways

that they fight on a particular level. It is to understand the

relationship between the conceptual methodologies of policing and the

immediate actions that they take, as well as the terrain that these

actions occur within, and the effects of these dynamics of conflict in

the construction of a tactical terrain. We have to think of the concept

of the police as a collection of particular people attempting to operate

their own particular way of understanding, through the framework of some

total conceptual content, and then taking particular actions that

generate effects. We cannot approach the police as singular[26], and

their logistics as unified, but rather, must begin to understand the

logistics of policing as the impossible attempt to not only construct

the unity of time and space external to their operations, but also the

attempt to construct their own coherence. There are numerous means

through which this attempt occurs (specifically command and control as

well as supply). But, as much as a force can be trained, as standardized

practices and uniforms can be, the immediacy of action and the

particularity of those who act in moments can never be eliminated. This

impossibility of internal definition, internal coherence, generates

crisis—the possibility that this logistics could cease to function at

any moment—and forces the constant desperate attempt to construct its

own coherence as the condition of its functioning.

Projection occurs in relation to crisis, but in a complicated way. On

the one hand, the projection of police logistics is always already

deployed in the attempt to contain possible increases in crisis. Areas

that are seen as ungoverned, areas that are “hotbeds for crime”—the

neighborhoods of the working class, the workplace, the government

building—these spaces, whether a single target is being protected or the

general flow and dynamic of the street itself, always become the focus

of police initiatives. When crisis appears, or becomes possible in a

space, police logistics must stretch in order to address that gap in

projection, this gap in presence, visibility, and deterrence. But, as

this occurs, and the police enter more and more resistant ter-

rains—areas where they are regarded as occupiers, where they are met

with a wall of silence, where people defend themselves against police

incursion— the amount of force that must be mobilized to enter these

terrains multiplies, along with the uncertainty of their movement

through that terrain. As a terrain becomes more and more potentially

resistant the uncertainty of movement amplifies,[27] requiring more and

more force to be concentrated there, if only to move through the area.

This can escalate to a scale that pushes the police off the street

entirely, requiring outside forces to come in, usually in the form of

the National Guard and the Army. As the density and speed of action

increases, the conflict becomes increasingly difficult to contain; if

the terrain multiplies, further amplifying crisis, then it can become

impossible to contain. Even in the face of the minor crises of the

street on a normal day, a single point of response, a single point of

convergence, can severely limit the ability of police logistics to

project through space; as the police from one sector respond to a point

and concentrate force, others have to be drawn from other sectors,

potentially creating a cascading effect that rupture police logistics

entirely, as we saw for a period of time in Greece in December 2008.

There is this mythology, born out of linear military histories, written

by military scholars, mixed with a certain American machismo, that

generates the idea that all military conflict becomes linear and

frontal. Believing this myth is suicidal. Such a mentality is mirrored

in pacifist attempts to engage in tactical discussion. They claim that

“fighting the military on their level will never be successful,” of

course assuming that linear symmetric conflict is the only form of

fighting possible, and ignoring the military component of all

revolutionary moments. To look beyond this absurd assumption of linear

conflict means to engage on the level of crisis and its amplification.

With the advent of the Napoleonic military[28] (characterized by mass

numbers, intensive intelligence collecting, and fast movement) pursuit

became a primary aspect of military conflict; many engagements were

defined by pursuit of retreating defeated forces. As they retreated,

troops would get lost, defect, desert, and walk home or become isolated

from the main force. The opposing force broke down, not out of the

magnitude of the attack, but out of the multiplication of terrain and

the acceleration of action. As action accelerates, and as terrain

widens, there are more points to respond too, stretching the ability of

the opposing force to maintain organizational logistics and falling,

increasingly, into disorganization. This is the key to understanding all

guerrilla conflict, all insurgency; it is never a calculus based on

magnitude of attacking single points, but a multiplication of terrain,

acceleration of speed, and amplification of crisis. This process used to

take hold more quickly, with only minor modifications to the dynamics of

conflict throwing entire forces into disarray, but this was before the

advent of the radio. But even this history is not full proof. We only

need to look as far as Syria to see the gradual effects of long,

protracted, organizational crisis: regime soldiers relied on roads to

transport supplies, but these were attacked, and covered too much space

to defend, so they relied on helicopters ’til the airbases began to be

attacked. Now many are isolated, able to communicate through the radio

and cellular networks, but unable to move and now out of supplies. This

is a central principle and the basis for the doctrine of parallel

strike, a strategy used since the 1980s to strike multiple targets

simultaneously (preventing the reinforcement of certain sites or the

ability to cope with the rapid amplification of crisis). As troops have

to spread out, as conflict occurs in intentional forms in more and more

terrain, coverage becomes more and more difficult; troops have to either

pull back to safe areas or risk complete disorganization, complete

logistical rupture.

With the advent of the police cruiser, the radio, the helicopter, the

surveillance matrix, and the standardization of space through the

construction of private property, zoning laws, building codes, and the

imposition of the grid pattern of streets, space has been saturated by

the attempt to amplify the capacity to contain crisis. This is necessary

for policing to function. Not only is the structuring of space made

possible by the attempt to operate some sort of conceptual content as a

definition of space, which is also latent in urban planning, rural

regulations, and resource extraction, but this terrain becomes, to the

degree possible, an expression of the conceptual content being

developed, both shaping the operations of police logistics and the space

itself. But even with the structure of metropolitan terrain being shaped

by policing, this does not prevent the crisis in policing, or even to

keep it from increasing. This crisis is generated from two sites: the

movements and dynamics of history itself (infrastructural decay,

financial crisis... everything else that occurs), and the crisis latent

in the very operations of policing itself, born from the impossibility

of the coherence of police. In the very movements of policing, in the

expansion of the terrain of policing, in the maximization of projection,

the terrain in which this crisis occurs expands as well. Policing cannot

be considered separate from crisis, just as the tactical manifestation

of crisis cannot make sense outside of the attempt to generate unities

of time and space; the impossibility of the attempt to construct these

unities of time and space (crisis) cannot exist without the attempt to

construct unity (policing) to begin with. As action occurs, as police

logistics are deployed into space, these deployments generate effects.

These can be the predictable amplification of conflict that is often

generated by armed occupation, but could also be the more mundane

actions within everyday life; everything has the potential to cause

effects which are catastrophic to the attempt to define existence, and

everything that occurs outside of deterministic immanence—which is

everything—is necessarily a crisis for policing. This generates a crisis

in the very disjunction, the infinite distance, which necessarily exists

between conceptual totalities and the particularity of actions, and

without this crisis resistance would be impossible. Yet, this also

generates this more foundational crisis, the crisis of the impossibility

of the police as a coherence. Therefore, policing exists not as an

institution that can be argued against within the realm of the

philosophical, but rather is a logistics of the deployment of force in

the attempt to construct the impossible, an absolute and total

definition of the relations between things, people, space, and movement.

We cannot approach this question of the police as a static thing.

Rather, as a logistics, policing is constructed in space, as something

that occurs, complete with its own dynamics, sites of coordination and

command, communications, supply lines, and the organization of movement

within space. It is a deployment of organized content that attempts to

move through the totality of space, as a form of limitation and

definition of the dynamics between things, and can, therefore, only be

understood as warfare waged in the social.[29] But, as with any

logistical apparatus, the very mobilization of it also generates crisis

within it. The impossibility of covering all space and time necessarily

means that force is deployed unevenly, that it has to move to cover

space, and that this movement entails further crisis. As units deploy

through space they are met with resistances, equipment breakdowns and

glitches, a lack of coherence, and so on, forcing the operation to

remain in constant motion, generating constant crisis. As we have been

able to witness through the ability to track dynamics of conflict in

real time, through the help of live blogging and social media, the

impact of crisis can be widely known. Every time resistance is mounted

in a space, every time a logistical hub is cut off, every time a supply

line is cut or force is concentrated in space, effects cascade, actions

speed up. This speed of action, combined with the multiplication of the

terrain in which action occurs, disrupts logistics, amplifies crisis

internal to the attempt to construct the coherence of these logistics,

which can enable the crisis to become a point of rupture, a point in

which this logistical attempt to construct the unity of time and space,

as well as the coherence of logistics itself, ceases to function.

Crisis amplifies through the friction caused in action. As this

logistics deploys force through space, and crisis is generated in this

deployment, that crisis amplifies to the degree that friction is

generated in that very movement through space. Barricades are an

example, preventing police from moving through space—but not all

examples are so geographically static. Friction is generated in the

deployment itself, but is amplified through intentional action, through

the intentional multiplication of the terrain and speed of action, the

multiplication of contingency and the construction of resistant

terrains, where the movement of police becomes increasingly uncertain.

As the speed and terrain of action multiplies capacity is stretched,

logistics are stretched, supply lines are stretched, and projection is

disrupted. Insurrection is the term denoting this rupture of policing

logistics, where the police are run off the streets and the

possibilities of action multiply. But this is not some conceptual

calculus, and there can be no concept of insurrection in itself. The

mentality that has become popular lately— social war as something that

we engage in and initiate, and insurrection as an ideal that can be

theorized about—misses the point. When we discuss the dynamics of

conflict, social war as something that is initiated has to be separated

from any dynamics that were occurring before this magical point at which

resistance coalesces. Rather, social war occurs, it is the deployment of

policing in time and space, and insurrection is merely an amplification

of this continual conflict. As with the logistics of policing,

insurrection occurs, it is tactical, and is necessarily a dynamic

relationship. Our choice is not a conceptual one—one endorses or doesn’t

the thesis of police—but rather the positionality one takes in

relationship to the impossibility of policing, to social war itself. It

is not a question of whether social war occurs, it is only a question of

how we relate to its materiality, to policing itself.

To engage in a fight against police is necessarily to engage in a

material tactical struggle against the logistics of policing. No correct

theory, proper motivation, or perfect analysis guarantees anything in

material struggle. We must move beyond the idea that holds resistance to

be transcendental, abstract, conceptual, and begin to embrace it for

what it is, an intentional engagement in the immediacy of conflict, in

the dynamics of conflict itself. At this point, the only determination

we must make is how we conceptualize this war, who we choose to define

as friends and enemies (although this is a secondary concern and only

allows us to make sense of what is happening). The actual struggle is a

material question, and therefore one that exists as separate from the

conceptual question. It is not a question of why one chooses any

particular form of engagement in social war, it is merely about

conceptualizing the dynamics of social war itself, and whether this

conceptualization effectively disrupts the dynamics of policing.

Struggle or resistance is a material dynamic, something that occurs, and

something that, at the end of the day, only matters to the degree that

it is effective. The longer we persist in analyzing policing as

institutional, inert, and as a conceptual object that can be argued

against, the longer we will fail to consciously engage in a dynamic of

conflict, an intentional amplification of crisis, and the longer that we

will remain nothing but activists and fail to embrace the necessity of

our role as insurgents.

Works Cited

<biblio> Foucault, Michel, trans. Macey, David (2003). Society Must Be

Defended. Picador, New York

Mussolini, Benito, trans. Unknown (2006). The Doctrine of Fascism.

Howard Fertig, New York

Schmitt, Carl, trans. Kennedy, Ellen (1988). Crisis of Parliamentary

Democracy. MIT Press, Cambridge

Sorel, Georges, trans. Hulme, TE and Roth, J (2004). Reflections on

Violence. Dover Publications, Mineola

Clausewitz, Carl von, trans. Unknown (1968). On War. Penguin Classics,

London

Naveh, Shimon (1997). In Pursuit of Military Excellence: The Evolution

of Operational Theory. Frank Cass, New York

Schmitt, Carl, trans. Schwab, George (1996). The Concept of the

Political. University of Chicago Press, Chicago

Williams, Kristian (2007). Our Enemies in Blue. South End Press. Boston

Delanda, Manuel (1991). War In The Age of Intelligent Machines. Zone

Books, New York

Galula, David (1964). Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory and Practice.

Praeger Security International, London

Kaplan, Fred (2013). The Insurgents: David. Petraeus and. the Plot to

Change the American Way of War. Simon and Schuster, New York

US Army (2005). FM 3–19.15: Civil Disturbance Operations. Department of

the Army, Washington DC

Debord, Guy, trans. Nicholson-Smith, Donald (1994). The Society of the

Spectacle. Zone Books, New York

Weizman, Eyal (2007). Hollowland. Verso Press. London

Ranciere, Jacques, trans. Rose, Julia (2004). Dis-agreement: Politics

and Philosophy. University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis

Appendix 1: We Give a Shit: An Analysis of the Pittsburgh G20

Intro: So It Begins

The primary critique of the summit hopping era, (one that applies to me

as well) is that we never expanded outside of the activist context,

never moved beyond complaining loudly around summits, never moved from

complaint to active engagement. But there was something in the summit

era that did hold promise; in the concentration of numbers in space

there was always this possibility of breaking out of the confinement of

the downtown area, the confinement of the frontal conflict between

police and anarchists, the confinement of pre-planned confrontation, and

the limitations of the dates of the summit itself. There was this sense

that activism could be transcended, that conflict could be amplified on

the streets with speed and magnitude, that conflict could multiply

territorially and break the logistical capacity of the police to contain

it. This is what many of us saw, if only briefly, during the Pittsburgh

G20, the finale of the summit era, and it was this that both generated

the current tactical impasse that we find ourselves in and that points

the way out. The multiplication of the terrains of conflict during the

first day of action creates a problem; it became clear that this form of

action was insufficient to break the forms of containment that typify

the summit demonstration (even if we raised the stakes dramatically).

This left many of us feeling as if the terrain of conflict in our own

spaces, in our own towns, began to be everything, and that seems to have

left us at a loss. But it was specifically this collapse of the attempts

to contain the Pittsburgh demonstrations into the traditional forms that

typified the summit demonstrations that points a way out of a dead-end

strategy based in complaint and activist tourism. To understand why this

was the case we must do more than just look at the context of the

actions, the recent tactical shifts that had occurred between 2007 and

that point, or even the actions themselves. As with all actions we have

to keep in mind that these occurred in a time and in a space, and it is

those, combined with the actions taken within those dynamics, that

shaped the trajectory of conflict during those two days in September of

2009.

To get a handle on what happened there we have to begin with the

political and historical terrain. The city of Pittsburgh has a long

history of struggle. It was the Pittsburgh Congress of 1883 that is

widely credited with beginning an organized anarchist movement in

America. This was the site of the Homestead strike in 1892, a huge steel

strike that involved shoot-outs between strikers and Pinkerton guards

and was where Alexander Berkman attempted to assassinate Henry Clay

Frick (who now has a park named after him). This is one of those events

that is now immortalized on plaques in warehouse districts and so-called

historic areas. Pittsburgh is also where the United Steelworkers began

(and are still based), as well as the American Federation of Labor and

the Congress of Industrial Organizations and was the site of the AFL-CIO

merger agreement.

This history of struggle has shaped the dynamics of the city and its

structure of enforcement. During the Homestead strike, when the

Pittsburgh police refused to break the strike, bosses called in

Pinkerton guards and deputized them, beginning a practice in the

Rustbelt of deputization to deal with social ruptures, something that

has become a day-to- day part of life there. Homestead was also the

motivation for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to create the

Pennsylvania State Police, a large element of the enforcement structure

during the G-20.

Like all cities in the Rustbelt, Pittsburgh is a city that has been

completely fucked over by capitalist globalization. Starting in the

1970s and 1980s, with the rise of neoliberalism, privatization, and

globalization, production of steel—the basis of the city’s economy—began

to shift overseas. Today, despite being the home of the United Steel

Worker’s union, and commonly referred to as “Steel City,” Pittsburgh is

left with no functioning steel mills, aside from some part-time,

scrap-melting mills. Massive unemployment and political marginalization

was coupled with the market abandonment of these areas, leaving many

with no hope in the market to provide for their daily needs. In the

recent past Pittsburgh has seen a rising anarchist scene, with a series

of long-running and well-known direct action groups and campaigns

occurring through the late 1990s and into the 2000s, specifically the

anti-war and counter-recruitment campaigns between 2002 and 2008. These

often had actions turn into confrontations with the police.

Obama claimed to have chosen Pittsburgh for the G20 due to its economic

“revival” through something called the Pittsburgh Model. This model of

development uses tax breaks and restructuring and colonization of poor

neighborhoods to provide “favorable market conditions,” (cheap or free

land, cheap or free buildings, the lack of unions, tax breaks, etc) to

attract investment. In Pittsburgh this has primarily concentrated around

“green building,” military engineering research, the biomedical field,

and the building of large universities, as well as the demolition of a

poor neighborhood to build a baseball stadium on the north side of the

city. Development is also a major force in gentrifying parts of the

city, particularly Oakland (the university district), parts of Garfield,

and East Liberty among others. This has meant a few research and

university jobs are created while the majority of the city is left

working low wage and/or temporary jobs. In contrast, 40 years ago this

population had access to high paying union jobs in the steel mills. The

city looks like it is reviving on the physical level, but under the

facade the Rustbelt reality is the rising of the poverty rate and the

shrinking of the population (by almost half since 1950).

Pittsburgh has begun to undergo a series of profound changes, with the

abandonment of large parts of the city used as an excuse to restructure

its entire fabric. In the attempt to draw in outside investment the city

government has almost bankrupted itself pouring money into neighborhood

redevelopment projects, based on so-called green condo developments,

medical research facilities, university expansion, and massive expansion

of the policing and surveillance apparatuses, framed in a context of

community policing, also known as counter-insurgency. This has caused

the fragmentation of many neighborhoods, massive population

displacement, and the bulldozing of the city’s history in favor of

housing for yuppies. It is this environment that has generated a

profound sense of tension on the streets in certain areas of the city,

and it is this environment that played a large role in shaping the

preparation and trajectory of conflict during the summit itself.

Police Preparation and General Operating Procedures

Analyzing the tactics of police in Pittsburgh is difficult for a couple

reasons. Firstly, there were so many actions going on in so many

different places that it was impossible to look at as a single strategic

body. Secondly, many people have reported long gaps between police

sightings, periods of time with little to no police coverage of their

movements. This attests to our ability to challenge their control of the

streets and to create zones where police had little to no physical

control, but also makes analysis difficult. However, from the Twitter

feeds, from news reports, and from personal experience we can begin to

cobble together some understanding of their thinking during the actions.

There are a few things to keep in mind here. Cops need to build cohesive

forces, to be able to generalize their needs for a certain situation,

and to build force to define a situation. This takes both time and

control, the time to build a cohesive force and the ability to use that

force to operate within a terrain, to contain actions with their planned

strategy. If the situation cannot be made to conform, then their force

ceases to be relevant and they have to improvise, or move to a posture

of response. This is what it means for the police to enforce definition.

The state sets the limits of allowable action and the police must

develop a way of enforcing those limits in a situation that is always

changing, even though their force is not. Their preparation time was

limited in the case of the G20, since they had only four months (as

opposed to the two years it took to prepare a comparable police force

for the RNC). In contrast, we can quickly do outreach, plan in our

affinity groups, and link up with other affinity groups, all in

non-linear structures that can adapt to changing circumstances. More

time to prepare can be a good thing, but it is not as important for us.

We do not need to create and enforce definitions, we are able to be

mobile.

Maybe to compensate for their lack of time to prepare, maybe as an

intentional tactic, the cops early on defined their approach to this

series of actions. Firstly they engaged in raids meant to accomplish the

two goals of disrupting organizing and intimidation. In other words,

they were meant to build the feeling that the cops were everywhere. They

kept catching the Seeds of Peace bus, as well as other cars, on the

street instead of at static spaces, trying to create the impression that

they could find us whenever they wanted to. They coupled this with very

public announcements whenever they seized equipment. This approach

backfired however, and led not just to lawsuits but also to

embarrassment. (Having very publically announced finding PVC pipe they

claimed was for “sleeping dragons,” they discovered later that the pipes

were being stored by a company for product testing.) This constant

presence also heightened the eerie feeling within the city of the coming

police state, to the dismay of many residents. This can partially

explain the intense public support that many reported while marching

through the streets. These disruptions, like the tactics used on

Thursday afternoon, were as much based on intimidating anarchists and

the general populace as they were on materially disrupting organizing

work.

This psychological tactic was increased by their tactic of posturing,

especially through the media. In past mobilizations the press work by

the cops beforehand was aimed at the general populace and meant to

generate a fear of anarchists coming to burn the city to the ground, and

so on. The G20 preaction press preparation was different; it was aimed

at us. There were the obligatory warnings from the mayor against the

people coming to “cause destruction,” but on top of that there was

endless coverage of the police build-up, tours of the security

perimeter, tours of their command center (something even the press was

confused about), as well as constant police harassment before the

actions. But without being able to carry out any raids of material

importance, this all came across as posturing and nothing more. They

were forced to backpedal from a lot of these statements in the days

before the action as lawsuits and complaints started coming in from

various groups, and business owners started boarding up stores. The

police were trying to strike a balance between inflating fears of an

anarchist horde to justify the massive police buildup, and reassuring

business owners that they were safe to remain open. They failed.

Ordinary Pittsburgh residents were angry at the government for turning

their city into a police state, leading many of them to side with the

protesters, and most downtown businesses shut down for duration of the

G20.

This press coverage was combined with the use of weapons of intimidation

and staged force during the actual actions. They had announced

beforehand that they “would not be the spark”. It became obvious that

they were anticipating the possibility of disruption and that they

assumed it would happen downtown, or at least on the way to downtown.

Twin Cities Indymedia, as well as a lot of people traveling to Arsenal

Park on Thursday, reported seeing large columns of police behind the

initial skirmish line at 34^(th) and Liberty, between the residential

parts of the East End of Pittsburgh and Downtown in an area knows as the

Strip District. These police were there in case the initial lines broke

down. They used weapons that couldn’t be carefully or accurately

targetted, so they could not pick and choose targets until they began to

bring out bean-bag rounds and rubber bullets on Thursday afternoon. The

indiscriminate weapons were used to keep people away from areas. But

dispersing a crowd into smaller groups makes the situation harder to

define, so this tactic of dispersal, combined with the air of a total

presence, was supposed to make us want to disperse ourselves. In other

words, like all the pre-action preparation, these weapons are meant to

have a psychological effect; they are used to demoralize crowds, to take

the fight out of us by making us feel that resistance is futile. But

these weapons backfired. Because a lot of people have seen them before,

the weapons didn’t have the intimidating effect the police planned on.

Even the helicopters and gas (which became constants at a certain point)

did little to deter people who have been in situations like this, and at

this point that is a lot of us. When gassed we noticed a lot of people

calmly putting on goggles and helping others to do the same, then calmly

and quickly moving into more open space. Police also relied heavily on

the LRAD, which had such minimal effect that it became a joke on the

Daily Show, not to mention in our internal circles. (Note: many of us

have switched our ringtone to the sound of the LRAD.) Police approaches

generally are based in staging force, using increasing physical force

instead of psychological as the situation escapes their control, and

this is what they ended up doing. They brought out armored personnel

carriers on Thursday, but didn’t really use them except to block roads,

and changed to indiscriminate use of force on Friday night.

Days Filled with Stones and Flowers (An Analysis of Thursday and

Friday Actions)

The People’s Uprising March

To begin to attempt an analysis of the People’s Uprising march is

difficult. There was such widely dispersed action after the first half

hour or so that we need to look at the dynamics of the actions instead

of the actions themselves. In other words, the actions built a dynamic

environment, and this is what to focus on. What we know now is that

outside the large police presence at Arsenal Park there was a much

larger and more concentrated presence of police between the initial

point of contact (34^(th) and Liberty St), and the perimeter downtown,

staggered in increasing concentrations the closer we got to the David L

Lawrence Convention Center.

The initial police contingent seemed willing to give the street to the

march. This is not surprising within a new, modified police tactic of

containment/ dispersal, or containment as dispersal, a tactic that we

have encountered in Washington, DC. If the police think the march will

be able to take the street, or is determined to do so, they will set up

a zone of control, an area of the street that they will give to the

march to avoid confrontation, while they try to contain everything

outside this space. So they may give the street but surround the march

on the sides, they may give a lane, etc. As this march moved out, some

noticed this and redirected the march through the park to another exit

point, which immediately frustrated the police attempt to contain the

march. This was evident as we were passing small contingents of riot

cops, spaced out on the corners of intersections, especially when we

encountered two riot cops in a car as we turned onto Liberty (ie, we

were seeing the backside of their tactic). At this point the march

split, some trying to head away from the massive police contingent in

downtown and go to any number of recently gentrifying commercial

districts. On reaching the corner of 34^(th) and Liberty we saw a line

of riot police, an armored personnel carrier (APC) equipped with an

LRAD, and a series of other vehicles. Unknown to many at this point was

that this was only an initial line; there was a much higher

concentration of cops further on. The cops gave a dispersal warning and

then sounded the LRAD for the first time.

The march diverted down an alley next to the Church Brew Works, where

the first dumpsters came out and barricades were built. This area of

Pittsburgh, in a neighborhood called Lawrenceville, is characterized by

narrow winding streets, often dead ending into one another, which only

require a single dumpster to completely block. As we rounded the corner

again, to get to Butler St at 37^(th) (and thus begin the move through

the Strip District towards downtown), we were met with another line.

That is when the cops first used high concentrations of gas. After they

failed to contain the march at the park, they switched to a blocking

tactic, one that is only meant to prevent access to certain areas. They

used a show of force and shifting blockades to prevent access to

downtown while also trying to convince us to disperse. This is

speculation, but it seems as if they made some mistakes in their

projections of our actions. Firstly, they seemed to assume that our goal

was to head into downtown, and they allocated force to prevent that

movement. This became clear as the march formed into smaller groups;

those who headed away from downtown saw almost no cops for a long period

of time. Secondly, police made a big deal before the actions about

training to defeat lockdowns, maybe expecting a repeat of the Republican

National Convention activist tactics, which centered around blockading

access to certain areas of downtown. For G20, few if any groups planned

on locking down, opting to remain more flexible instead of using a

tactic that immobilizes at the point of deployment.

As the march “dispersed” into smaller groups, the situation became

really fluid and dynamic. The constant changes in the scenario kept cops

from accounting for numerous groups in the streets. We can separate

these trajectories of movement into two general movements. One group

engaged with the cops in their own territory by trying to head downtown.

This was a rather large section of the march; they got stopped in the

Strip district. It seems like many cops were diverted to stop this

group. Another set of groups started to head the opposite way towards

the gentrified shopping areas of the East End through Lawrenceville and

Bloomfield. These groups began to notice a series of things. The most

astonishing was that people from the neighborhoods, and these are

largely working class neighborhoods, began to come out onto the streets

to engage with the events, both in cheering anarchists on and in certain

instances helping to barricade off streets. These groups set up

barricades to create space. A PNC Bank got its ATMs smashed, pulling

more police into simple response actions, and away from the operation of

coherent strategy.

There are two fundamental aspects to these sets of movements. Firstly,

in multiplying the terrain of conflict, in the organized and intentional

dispersal across space, we were able to break the zone of containment

that the police attempted to set up, and to eventually break outside of

their ability to contain the terrain of conflict at all. This forced the

police to respond to a series of points of conflict, often too slowly to

actually catch anyone or to even engage, which constancy of movement

stretched their capacity to maintain logistical coherence or strategic

initiative. Secondly, the use of barricades and property destruction

occurred in a way that had not really been seen in American summit

demonstrations. Barricades proliferated on side streets as groups began

to move off main roads and into the twisted tangles that characterize

this part of Pittsburgh. Barricades limited police movement to major

roads. When combined with the loss of tactical initiative, which forced

them to respond to points of engagement in small groups, usually on city

buses, police lost the ability to project through space. As the terrain

became more resistant, as the movement of motorized units was

constrained, and as the terrain of conflict widened, the police were

forced to move through whatever space they could, as fast as possible,

in as many groups as possible, to as many points as possible, and lost

their ability to occupy, to move, or to maintain logistical coherence.

A call went out over Twitter to meet in Friendship Park, on the border

of the Bloomfield, Friendship, and Garfield neighborhoods. A trickle of

people ballooned to hundreds. The park became a space to rest, get

treated for injuries, and plan next moves. Cops began showing up in

droves, hoping to surround the park, but again the crowd was too large

for them to box in. That march began, and headed down Liberty Ave, away

from downtown, in the direction of the Oakland neighborhood, or the

university district. At the intersection of Liberty and Baum Ave the

march turned right and began to speed up, with many groups breaking off.

The police began to fire rubber bullets into the crowd, causing some

affinity groups to spread out, resulting in a trail of broken windows

all up Baum, including hits on Boston Market and various other chain

restaurants. During these confrontations police attempted to target

certain individuals (including the now famous footage of police in camo

fatigues jumping out of a car, grabbing someone and driving off with

them); these stopped after groups began to double back and pelt the

police with chunks of concrete. As people filtered into Oakland the

police presence increased dramatically, beginning the trajectory of

conflict that would result in large scale rioting a couple of hours

later.

This concentration of police was bolstered by contingents of cops tasked

with protecting a State Dinner at Phipps Conservatory (a building in

Schen- ley Park), which borders the University of Pittsburgh in the

heart of Oakland. Students began to be harassed by police who, in

response to events earlier in the day, were attempting to clear the

campus of any students not in their dorm rooms. This caused a conflict

between the students at Pitt and the police on their campus; a conflict

that would set the stage for what was about to occur.

Bash Back!

As the cops were tear gassing the first groups of protesting students in

Schenley Plaza, the Bash Back! march began to gather at the corner of

Desoto and Fifth Ave, three blocks south-west of the Plaza. The march

rolled out around 10, only a half hour after the disturbances began on

Pitt’s campus. The march began down Meyran Ave to Forbes and along the

way picked up six dumpsters. The first police vehicle arrived and was

stopped by four of the dumpsters being turned over in the intersection.

Corporate shops were attacked, with windows busted out of Subway,

McDonald’s, and American Apparel, among others. While the cops were

still stopped at the first barricade, two more dumpsters were

overturned, one on fire, at the intersection of Forbes and Desoto, which

created even more space away from the cops. Students and bystanders

crowded the sidewalks as the police substation got its windows busted

out. The march then saw its first police line, a line of vehicles, about

a block ahead. Instead of engaging, the crowd began to move through

university property across the street from Schenley Plaza. The crowd

took a right and headed up past a university vivisection lab, which got

its windows smashed out, then a left, a right, ending up on a street

with three banks and a Quiznos, all of which got windows broken.

At this point you could begin to see the police cordon setting up at the

intersections: a couple of cops per intersection, a car, and usually

some form of wooden barricade with reinforcements of riot police down

the streets. We did not know at the time that there was a much larger

disturbance back at Pitt. In the wake of the crowd, students had swarmed

the streets, chanting “cops off campus,” “Go Pitt, Fuck the Police” and

“we love Pittsburgh, fuck the G20.” Contrary to media reports, students

were not just swept up in the events but were actively participating.

The cops were split once again, trying to deal with dynamic situations

moving in two different directions. Vehicles had caught up with the

crowd again and were attempting to run it off the streets. Many small

groups started to disperse down alleys and work their way back toward

Schenley Plaza where cops had begun gassing students again. Around

midnight, around when they called “All units to Oakland” over the police

scanner, they decided to cordon off the area. They set up skirmish lines

on Forbes and Fifth and pushed students away from the commercial

district and back onto campus. They began by pushing people down the

sidewalk but that quickly escalated into firing tear gas down the street

and even gassing students trying to enter their dorms. This escalated

the situation and brought more students out into the street. It took

till 2:30 for them to finally quell the unrest in Oakland. What few of

us knew was that when the march began, they were trying to get Obama out

of Schenley Park, the entrance to which is Schenley Plaza, ground zero

for the rioting, and at this point many units ran out of their gas

requisition, freezing them in place for a period of time. This even

further escalated the situation until they began to completely clear

streets, driving vehicles down residential streets in Oakland, repeating

the dispersal warning from loudspeakers.

The point when they ran out of gas is an important moment, the point

where their security plan broke down completely. In a single day we had

exceeded their projection of the worst possible scenario for the entire

weekend. When creating a summit security plan, police will requisition

supplies based on what they are consider to be the worst possible

scenario for the entire time of potential conflict (in this case, a

weekend). The fact that they ran out of gas makes it clear that in a

single day we exceeded the worst possible scenario projection for the

entire weekend. This wasn’t because of the volume of property destroyed

or the magnitude of any individual action; it was a result of the speed

of movement through terrain, the ability to limit police projection, and

the multiplication of terrains of conflict that ruptured the coherence

of police logistics and eviscerated any concept of tactical initiative

on their part. As is often discussed in relation to asymmetric conflict,

when conflict spreads throughout a terrain, gaps in police coverage open

up, and these gaps are where conflict can proliferate; but in the

creation of these gaps conflict becomes a potential in all space and

police movement through space becomes uncertain and difficult. It was in

specifically breaking the containment of the summit demonstration,

breaking the planned demonstration zones, the containment of police

strategy, and the containment of political identity, that these actions

pushed police logistics to the breaking point. The only tragedy of that

day was that we did not push this further, through the night and into

the following days, and in failing to pursue, to continue to amplify

conflict. We allowed the police time to regroup, resupply, and call in

reinforcements.

The Permit March

The next morning the permitted march began to gather. At the gathering

point itself there were relatively few police, but just blocks away were

hundreds of riot cops, spaced out in groups of 30–50, surrounding

vehicles so they could be mobile, and accompanied by K-9 units. These

mobile units were to deal with anyone who diverged from the agreed-upon

plan for the day. As the march moved downtown we noticed more and more

cops, in higher concentrations, ‘til we got downtown and then they lined

the streets, standing in front of barriers that held back crowds of

people who had gathered along the march route. When the march stopped in

front of the City County Building, the cops began to show a little of

what they had in store for later that night. The crowd stood in a

downtown street while 50–100 riot cops began to move off a side street,

one (backed up by one of the LRADs) even moving into the crowd. The bloc

assembled and moved towards the cops to form a buffer between the cops

and the rest of the crowd.

As the march moved the police presence thinned out. They moved squads of

riot cops into the positions that we had occupied minutes before and

drove Hummers with fences attached to their fronts to block off the

bridges to everything but foot traffic. As the gathering in the park

wore on, and as the time for the permit to expire approached, we noticed

lines of riot police beginning to surround the park and a large

contingent getting off a school bus and gearing up in the southwest

corner of the park. These shows of force were further foreshadowing of

the actions later that night.

Go Pitt, Fuck The Police

That night a large group of Pitt students, along with assorted

anarchists and activists, gathered in Schenley Plaza to demonstrate

against the police brutality from the previous night. Hours before the

gathering, we could see large groups of riot cops gearing up in the

Oakland neighborhood and hiding down side streets, particularly around

Forbes between Meyran and Desoto. As people began to gather, the park

became completely surrounded. After 45 minutes the dispersal warning was

sounded and the LRAD blared, but there was nowhere for anyone to go. The

cops began to move in but not as a unit. They sent small tactical teams

into the crowd to secure an area, while the cops behind them gassed that

area, and pepper sprayed or attacked anyone in range. Those they caught

were cuffed and arrested. Larger lines would move in behind them to

secure the area and process the arrestees. Groups managed to break

through and head both out of the area and further into Pitt’s campus.

Those groups that ended up on campus were chased down by riot cops and

beaten if caught. The cops beat and gassed people indiscriminately,

including at least one instance of launching tear gas canisters into

open dorm windows.

The gathering in itself was relatively innocuous, being largely people

playing drums and giving speeches, but that is not the point. The police

response was meant to send a message not only against causing

disturbances that night, but to make anyone present think twice about

stepping out of line again. The response was meant to psychologically

damage and generate fear, not just to stabilize a situation. And this is

a good lesson to learn. If we are going to be successful we have to be

ready for and expect this type of response in subsequent gatherings.

While difficult to deal with, it is inevitable. The police are trying to

stabilize a situation, and for them that means preserving control. That

means constructing us as subjects to be organized, to be positioned to

preserve the flows of the city, and if we can’t be organized, to be

forced back into stability. The police actions on Friday night

accomplished their goal. There were few popular actions Friday night and

the energy of the actions dissipated quickly, but we doubt the resonance

of those actions will fade as easily.

The End... or The Dawn of New Beginnings

There is little doubt that these were some of the most successful

actions that we have undertaken in recent memory. Not because anarchists

barricaded streets and created space, or because we fought back against

the cops and actually held our ground. Not because we forced the cops

into a stalemate by the middle of Thursday or the scale of the property

destruction. Rather it is that we were able to glimpse a form of action.

Unlike past summit demonstrations, isolated in downtown areas like the

summits themselves, these actions were both visible and invisible

simultaneously. They engaged on a plane of daily life that our actions

rarely touch (outside of our own lives). The actions were dispersed and

mobile, escaping the ability of the state to impose order on them.

During the Greek uprising a government minister complained most about

the inability to have an object or group to negotiate with, no demands

to mediate. Those actions existed on a different plane than the state.

Against the state’s imposition of samenesses, people in the streets

created divergence and multiplicity. The streets became indefinable as

actions proliferated, changing the environment with the participants

themselves. It became a terrain impossible to define, impossible to

limit as the very structures of control had broken down. The inability

of the state to mediate these actions was precisely due to the existence

of the actions on a plane that could not be mediated. It was not for

anything specific but for the possibility of possibility, the very

energy that destroys limits. This is a strategy of disappearance, unable

to be defined, unable to be categorized, and therefore unable to be

policed. It was a fight over the possibility of control.

Not that the G20 was anywhere close to the intensity of Greece, but that

type of situation can only exist to the degree that it is invisible to

the state, that there are too many dynamics, too many actions to

stabilize. But this disappearance from the plane of the state, from the

state’s gaze, is also an appearance on the level of daily life, a level

where life and action link up in ways that can only create dynamic

situations. Resistance struck a chord, it resonated, and that resonance

built itself into an energy that shook the city. It escaped the bounds

of the removed specialists of political action and broke out, it became

social war, or at least a glimpse of what that resonance may feel like.

It opened a window into something else. What that is, is up to us to

decide.

Appendix 2. Tactical Terrain Analysis: A How-To Guide

As we witnessed in the Fall/Winter of 2011, repression can seemingly

destroy the possibility of resistance. All around the country people

gathered in and occupied open spaces, and just as quickly they were run

out by the police. This was not only due to inexperience and an almost

total inability to confront repression (largely due to the obsessions

with pacifism that plague American social movements) but also to a lack

of pre-action research on the tactical terrain itself. As we saw in the

antiwar movement, and as was replicated in many factions of Occupy,

there was an obsession with politics, political theory, issues, the

ethics of certain actions... so much theory. But for all the discussion

of resistance, and for all the endless arguments about tactics, there

was no discussion of effectiveness, actual tactical dynamics, or the

terrain in which tactics play themselves out. There were endless

discussions of transcendental conceptual frameworks but absolutely no

discussion of the particular tactical dynamics that exist on the ground.

To focus on tactical terrain is not only to focus on the necessarily

tactical conflict that exists at the core of all resistance but also to

discuss the physical terrain itself, the tactical operations of the

police, the structure of the terrain itself, and the possibility for

tactical openings and amplifications.

Engaging in this sort of tactical mapping means recognizing the paradox

latent in the approach itself. Tactical terrain is a constantly shifting

phenomenon; it is the time and space in which action occurs. Yet, a

research- and mapping-based approach is necessarily static; it generates

static information. In other words, there is a certain obsolescence in

the information gathered the moment after the gathering ceases, or at

least the moment that the main body of information and the primary

framework of analysis is developed, because the situation itself always

keeps moving. This is compensated for, in military and police

operations, through a constant stream of real time information coming

into central command. In our case there have been experiments with using

Twitter and live Google Maps in order to map and distribute information

about police movements. Regardless of approach we must acknowledge two

things. First, for as comprehensive as this information may be, and for

as total as distribution may be, it is never enough and it is never

transmitted fast enough to actually encompass the changing dynamics of a

situation. Second, we still need a general framework of information in

order to put this information into context; without advanced research on

the space or the tactics of the police, disseminating information about

police movements is worthless. Tactical terrain research, therefore,

will never give a total view of the terrain; it is not something that

can be taken as true or as a hard logistical framework for the planning

of actions. Rather, we need to see these research studies both as

fundamental to the process of preparation for action as well as a

baseline from which we can make sense of changes on the ground.

What is Tactical Terrain?

We need to think of tactical terrain as a convergence. Far from being

confined to the physical terrain, the street is a place of coming

together; a convergence of actions, effects, ways of making sense. It is

a result of everything that has ever occurred, everything that has lead

to this point in time in this particular place. Now, it is impossible,

obviously, to be able to grasp the totality of this convergence; all we

can ever do is attempt to construct a way of making sense of this space

that is more or less effective in grasping that which occurs. In other

words, regardless of all the information that we can gather and process,

regardless of how deeply entrenched we may be in a space, it is

materially impossible to understand this totality of history. As such a

tactical terrain is always something that we can never entirely grasp.

Our ways of making sense of this space will always exist at a necessary

disjunction from the particularity of this space at this moment. This

does not mean that the attempt to make sense of space is irrelevant, it

can be a really effective exercise; it only means that we will never

come to understand tactical terrain in some direct and total way, in

some absolutely true way.

With this said, we are talking here about how to potentially make sense

of a particular space at a particular time, and ways to understand this

convergence. All too often, in this sort of analysis, we fall into one

of two traps. On the one hand, the tendency is to understand this space

only spatially, to read the terrain itself as a static space. This

prevents us from understanding the potentiality of tactical movement in

that space. On the other hand, there is a tendency to obscure the

terrain itself entirely, focusing, instead, on a history of tactical

successes and failures devoid of any discussion of the tactical

particularity of these moments. To avoid these traps we need to always

treat tactical terrain studies as a convergence of dynamics.

We need to recognize that all terrain is structural, expressed in the

research of maps, elevations, concealments, features, placement of

points, materials, and so on. In other words, terrain has a physical

dimension. We see this discussion in most of the great works of tactical

theory; in the Art of War this is expressed in the discussion of

concealment, elevation, and tactical advantage. Conflict occurs in a

place, and the characteristics of that terrain play an integral role in

how conflicts play themselves out. We see the difference in terrain even

in contemporary conflicts during large demonstrations. In St Paul we

were faced with a relatively isolated downtown area, separated from the

rest of the city by a freeway and the Mississippi River. This presented

advantages (the ability to section off and further isolate this space

from the rest of the city, particularly important in blockading

delegates to the convention) and disadvantages (most of the mass arrests

occurred either along the river, on isolated streets, or on bridges).

Compare this to Pittsburgh during the G20 where the use of barricades

combined with the irregular street patterns and dense urban structure of

the East End gave us a huge advantage in preventing police movement.

Secondly, terrain is mobile. Understanding this involves getting a grip

on the neighborhoods, the traffic patterns, how things shift, and the

way that the structural elements of the city facilitate this movement.

Again, as we mentioned, there is a tendency to treat tactical terrain as

only physical; as atemporal, ahistorical, inert. We reduce terrain to

only its physical elements at our own peril. If we think of a city

street, full of brick row-houses, we may see a static terrain; but even

if nothing occurs overtly, they degrade, the pavement degrades, the

space shifts and lives. Making sense of the particularity of any space

at any time is also to understand the animation of this space, the flows

of the space, the actions that occur, and why. This involves making

sense of where convergences of action occur, when and why. Only at this

point can we make sense of the effects that actions may have and the

dynamics that these actions will occur in.

Thirdly, tactics is a terrain of conflict. Understanding this means

researching the terrain as a combative space, the histories of

resistance and repression, the relationships with the police, police

tactics, and particular approaches in particular areas, features that

can help to facilitate actions, and so on. In other words, to the degree

that the state exists, we need to understand space as a conflict between

the historical possibilities of action and the attempt to construct a

condition of possibility for action through the operations of policing.

It is not that tactical terrain occurs in some bubble, nor that it is an

organic process; rather, we need to think through policing operations,

but also think these operations within the historical possibility of

that terrain. To put it another way, policing occurs somewhere and this

somewhere has dynamics. The actions taken by police have effects, and

these effects cause shifts in the tactical terrain which cause shifts in

policing and so on. We cannot think of conflict and tactics as static

phenomenon or the direct expression of theory. For years we have

attempted to grasp police tactics in a bubble, treating them as a whole

that exists in some singular way across time and space. But tactical

terrain research shows that these dynamics change over time, what the

operations of task forces look like, what levels of force are allocated

when and where, what common approaches to certain situations may look

like; this requires a consistency of research that we don’t currently

have.

Research Methods

Tactical terrain research occurs on two levels. First is the abstract

and general level, when we look at space in the widest sense possible,

primarily on the level of the map itself. However, this transcends

simple map reading and assembly and is the process of assembling a

framework through which we can understand the space that we are

gathering information about. While each person or group should, and

probably will, develop their own process for constructing this

framework, I have found that the most effective ones include physical

space, mapping roads and other arteries of circulation, and also mapping

generalized social dynamics, the division between neighborhoods,

concentrations of wealth, social convergence points, and commercial

districts. Then we move from this general level onto the more specific.

Here we will be going down on the street to understand how people and

commodities circulate within this space, how dynamics occur on the

street; this also includes things like timed maps of police force

concentration, traffic concentrations, dissipation points, and the

dynamics around special events (among other things).

What Are We Looking For?

Points of convergence: spaces in which there is a concentration of a

collision of dynamics. These tend to be points where movement

concentrates, and often enters into a level of congestion that prevents

or slows movement. Points of convergence are also often the major

junctions in the function of the space itself. These include

intersections, freeway junctions, exits, entrances, choke points,

commercial districts, bridges, and other “points of interest” (stadiums,

venues, hotels/resorts, college campuses, etc).

Points of deployment and surveillance: points where the police leave

from, gather, or project across space (things like cameras, neighborhood

watch groups, substations). Mapping spaces like this not only allows us

to understand where force is more likely concentrated but also where it

is most likely scattered, as well as the primary point of departure for

police operations. These points include police stations, possible

staging and holding areas, cameras, points of concentrated police

operations, substations, campus police stations, courts. and prisons.

Terrain variance and features: many radical groups conceptualize space

as a flat collection of points. If we take the time to read the history

of conflict, or even basic tactics theory, the features of the space

itself, in a three dimensional sense, are often the difference between

successful actions and crushing failure. Just as we use the basic layout

and social dynamics of a space to make sense of where effective actions

may be possible and where we hold tactical advantage, we can also

incorporate terrain variance into this framework. We look for things

like elevation shifts, spaces of concealment, alleys and other

cut-through paths, terrain depressions and other spaces of concealment,

convergence and dispersal points, parks and wooded areas, unpass- able

areas (water, ravines, etc), bridges...

To gather this information we either rely on resources that already

exist or ones that we develop. Keep in mind, this research is much

easier if you do it with your friends, your affinity group, people in

your neighborhood (if they’re down). The more eyes on the ground, the

more people scouring the web and talking to others, the more information

we will gather and the easier it will be to organize and analyze it all.

This sort of analysis is not about just gathering specific information;

we have come to recognize that there is no such thing as too much

information, and no piece of information that we gather has ever been

irrelevant. The only limitation that we have is time and capacity, the

amount of time we have to gather info and the capacity we have to make

sense of it all.

Internet research is a great place to start. In simple Google searches

one can come across everything from maps of spaces, maps of camera

placement, police field manuals, operational after-reports, police

theory journals, and so on. All of these can be valuable. Just make sure

that people doing research practice good security; we highly recommend

downloading and using a secure browser, and storing your data on a True

Crypt partition on your hard- drive.

Virtual Tools

Google Maps allows us to see the street layouts, terrain variations,

building elevations, and so on. A simple Google Maps search gives us a

tool that was a pipedream for organizers and operators even five years

ago; it allows us access to a satellite surveillance network.

Increasingly, as the labeling of space becomes more comprehensive, we

can already see the locations of numerous points of interest, saving a

lot of time that would otherwise be spent doing address searches and

then mapping all of these points individually. However, while this can

be a useful tool (particularly when combined with smart phones) we

always need to keep in mind that these maps are often slightly outdated

(sometimes more than slightly). As static as much of human development

may seem, this space is constructed to facilitate certain forms of

movement and that it is in constant flux. For example, the maps of Tampa

used in the lead-up to a research project that occurred before the 2012

RNC did not incorporate a lot of changes in development in downtown;

there were buildings that had been torn down, buildings that had been

built, roads that had been rerouted, and so on.

We have been researching alternatives to Google Maps, and have found

Wikimapia to be an adequate replacement. Wikimapia not only allows one

to look at maps with similar layers (except for real time traffic

mapping and street view), but also provides certain advantages.

Wikimapia is an open-source project. This does not guarantee security,

but the site was used extensively by radicals in Syria and Libya without

having information turned over to the state, not something that we can

say about Google. Secondly, Wikimapia allows users to outline shapes and

objects on a map and label the entire object, which is useful for the

making of maps combining defined objects, but also terrain features and

things like avenues of movement.

Google Streets allows us a view of the street, landmarks and scale, in

places we have never been. The value of this cannot be over-estimated.

However, we need to keep a couple things in mind. Remember that these

street shots can be obsolete the second after they are taken; space

shifts constantly so this sort of visualization only goes so far. Also,

these images are taken with a certain distortion simply due to the

limitations of the cameras. In other words, scale will not be precise,

nor will the location of mobile terrain features (dumpsters, newspaper

boxes, planters, etc). You can take measurements of space on Google

Streets, and we recommend this, rather than relying on often distorted

lines of sight.

Internet searches The internet gave us access to absurd volumes of

information, and like I said before, there is no such thing as too much

information. However, to avoid an endless abyss of research, focus is

helpful. When I am researching space I tend to focus on a relatively few

sources, but ones that repeatedly give solid info. Look for news

articles about past actions, particularly actions that may have anything

in common with the tactics sets that may be used in future actions. If

we are engaging in this sort of research on a daily and local level then

this may mean researching articles about police initiatives, enforcement

priorities, methodologies, practices like “stop and frisk” and so on.

Along with this it helps to look at articles about general police

operations; often the police will have a public relations department,

and even a Twitter account, in order to openly talk about changes as

part of “community policing” (or counterinsurgency). Though many of the

sources that you

will find will give you really sanitized versions of these programs, it

allows us to understand what they are doing where and when, and that

gives us some focus when we move into on-the-ground research. We also

look at police annual reports; all departments need to make these

available, and many are on the internet. Annual reports usually talk

about the locations of facilities, the number of personnel at each

facility, force concentration by shift, arrest numbers by precinct or

even neighborhood, task forces, SWAT teams, and so on. They include a

wealth of basic information on force allocation and operations, some

even go into detailed discussions of methodologies and theories applied

in policing operations (Tampa Police do this extensively). From this

data we begin to piece together a rough estimate of total force

allocation at any one time; to do this take the number of police in a

precinct (if this information is not available take the total number of

personnel, subtract administrative and investigative personnel and

divide that number by the number of precincts) and divide this by the

number of shifts, which is usually three during normal operations and

two during heightened security. Also try to find pre-action security

briefs or articles about briefs. In the past decade the police have

often taken to intimidating us through exaggerated discussions of the

numbers they have or may be bringing in, their centcom capacity, the

numbers they are planning to arrest and so on. Even when these numbers

are exaggerated, they can give us a good look into their numbers and

mentality; the fact that they talked about finding PVC pipe down alleys

and their training to dismantle lockboxes before Pittsburgh’s G20

definitely gave us a really solid idea of what they were expecting, and

thus what they were prepared for (which was very different than what

they saw, and a lot of us know how that turned out). Other good sources

of information are the writings of police think tanks or think tanks

that theorize about police operations (like RAND Corporation), and they

all have email lists that announce the release of new papers; the same

goes for police theory journals. There are also police conferences in

which command personnel gather and trade notes, often the notes of these

talks can be found online (this helps even more if your local police

commander tends to give talks at events like this).

The ambitious can take on mapping police operations on a regular basis,

which provides much more comprehensive information, especially when

combined with other forms of research. This level of research requires a

copy of the daily police blotter, a way to pull the information off the

blotter (and they are all structured differently, so one may need a

tech-savvy friend to data scrape the blotters into a database), and then

a mapping application (this can be done through Google Maps, but there

are really useful specialized programs and web-apps built to create real

time live maps). Then track this information over a period of time (at

least two months or more), looking into points of response, when and

where arrests tend to be made. When combined with police scanner data

the information will become even more illustrative. From these sorts of

maps, along with information gathered from other sources, we can piece

together a relatively comprehensive understanding of local police

operations.

On the Ground Research

Nothing can substitute for on the ground intel gathering. This means

going out on the street. It helps if there is more than one team on the

streets (you cover more space more comprehensively with more eyes on the

ground). These teams observe people’s movements, talk to people, maybe

do a little covert cop watching, and so on. Getting into the space

allows us to get a feel for it and also allows us to gather bits of

information that no amount of internet research or reading will ever get

us.

On the ground research can be broken into three general categories.

Metropolitan: This is intelligence relating to the flows of the

metropolis, the circulation of people and commodities, communications,

and infrastructure that comprises tactical terrain. This primarily

focuses on the shifts in the movements and patterns of the space; when

rush hour occurs, where traffic concentrates, where people gather and

when, where police allocate force and when, the economic divisions of

space, the divisions between neighborhoods and so on.

Point of Interest: This could include things like entering and

researching the floor plans of certain buildings, the transportation

infrastructure of a specific event, and so on.

Grassroots: This is the gathering of narrative information from the

people who populate the space. This may include us, if we live in this

space. Primarily this involves going to social events or engaging in the

dynamics of the space itself, talking to people and trying to get a read

on any number of aspects of the space. This is a great way to gather

information that is otherwise being withheld (for example the hotel

arrangements of delegates to a specific event).

Conclusion

This is only the basis of a research plan and a brief discussion of

methods. While there is no such thing as too much information, the

volume of information gathered relates to our ability to analyze it.

This implies a few things. The more people involved, the more

information can be gathered and analyzed. Secondly, organization is key;

the more organized gathering and processing is the more efficiently you

can work through it. Thirdly, there is never such a thing as having all

the information about a space; space shifts through time, conditions and

dynamics change on the ground. Research, therefore, can only provide a

basis for a framework to make sense of our information. From the point

of analysis there are many ways to spatialize this data. We prefer

layering of maps, usually beginning with an online mapping program

(Google Maps, Wikimapia) that has the general points of interest dotted

on the map. We overlay that with maps of things like neighborhood

dynamics, commercial districts, and traffic patterns to help break up

the map into easily digestible portions that we can research in a

reasonable amount of time. Everyday, as information comes in from

researchers we map the data, converge at the end of the day, and

restructure the plan for the next trip based on the data received. From

here we compile the raw data, look at the maps, construct a framework

for making sense of all the information collectively, then write a

narrative report.

There is a difference between doing research on a space over a few days

and existing in the space that one analyzes. The more time on the

ground, the more eyes watching and gathering information, the more

experience we have with the psychogeography of a space, the more deeply

the information gathered will make sense. From here the possibilities

are limitless. The more we know about the space that we fight in, the

more effective we can be, and effectiveness is what matters. Through

Occupy something was forgotten, again: revolution is an immediate and

material dynamic, something that happens in a time in a space. It is a

dynamic of material actions, tactics, and a calculation of

effectiveness. It is only in undertaking disciplined studies of tactical

terrain that we can come to begin to understand what effectiveness can

actually mean.

Appendix 3. Reading List

Theory

On War Carl Von Clausewitz

Cyberwar Is Coming! Arquilla and Ronfeldt

https://www.rand.org/pubs/monograph_reports/MR880.html

Networks and Netwar (Chapters 1, 4, 6, 9 Arquilla and Ronfeldt)

https://www.rand.org/pubs/monograph_reports/MR1382.html

“Nomadology and the War-Machine” Thousand Plateaus Deleuze and Guattari

From the Centre to the Periphery Alfredo Bonanno

325collective.com

Armed Joy Alfredo Bonanno

theanarchistlibrary.org

20 Thesis on the Subversion of the Metropolis anonymous

Internet Archive

The Coming Insurrection The Invisible Committee

theanarchistlibrary.org

Intro to Civil War Tiqqun

War In The Age of Intelligent Machines Manuel Delanda

Speed and Politics Paul Virilio

Reflections on Violence Georges Sorel

In Pursuit of Military Excellence: The Development of Operational Theory

Shimon Nahev

Army and Police Literature

US Army Field Manual 3–19.15

https://fas.org/irp/doddir/army/fm3-19-15.pdf

US Army Counterinsurgency Manual FM 3–24

https://fas.org/irp/doddir/army/fm3-24.pdf

US Army Stability Operations Manual FM 3–07

https://fas.org/irp/doddir/army/fm3-07.pdf

Riot Control Rex Applegate

Counterinsurgency David Kilcullen

Learning To Eat Soup With A Knife John Nagel

Maneuver In War Colonel Charles Willoughby

Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory and Practice David Galula

Radical and Insurgent Literature

Enrages and Situationists in the May 68 Occupation Movement Rene Veinet

libcom.org/library/enrages-situationists-occupations-movement

Total Resistance Major H Von Dach

Guerrilla Warfare Che Guevara

Guerrilla Warfare Mao Zedong

Philosophy of the Urban Guerrilla Abraham Guillen

Relevant Histories

Forward Into Battle Paddy Griffith

A Secret History of the IRA Ed Moloney

History of the Art of War Hans Delbruck

The Evolution of Weapons and Warfare Colonel Trevor Dupuy

The Makers of Modern Strategy Paret and Craig

Hollowland: Israel’s Architecture of Occupation Eyal Weizman

Lockdown America Christian Parenti

Our Enemies in Blue Kristian Williams

American Methods Kristian Williams

Tactical dynamics are amoral, arational, particular dynamics of

conflict, and effectiveness is the accomplishment of objectives within

this dynamic of profound uncertainty and resistance. Fusing ideas and

action together is always already impossible: analysis generates a space

that becomes inert while tactical dynamics are always in flux in all

moments, making both strategy and tactics impossible to think in direct

and total ways. The most we can do is try to make sense of these

dynamics in increasingly effective ways, ways that facilitate the

achievement of material objectives...

[1] occurring in parallel, effecting one another, but never fusing

together

[2] To be able to make the determination of an incorrect concept is to

also argue that one knows the correct concept, and thus truth.

[3] Foucault, 2003; Society Must Be Defended

[4] Mussolini, 1936; Mussolini discusses the state as an active

totality. All existence is framed through the state and one’s value is

in their role in maintaining a unity that is materially impossible.

Hence the structure of the fasci, even before the March on Rome, the

attempt to construct unity through force, through the elimination of all

political contingency.

[5] Schmitt, 1988

[6] Clausewitz, 1968

[7] Naveh, 1997 142

[8] Schmitt, 1996: The Concept of the Political

[9] Sorel, 2004 144

[10] Clausewitz, 1968 146

[11] Williams, 2007

[12] Delanda, 1991

[13] Galula, 1964

[14] long range acoustic device

[15] Kaplan, 2013

[16] Clausewitz, 1968

[17] Many police tactics, including patrols, are meant to serve as a

deterrent, to project their perceived presence outside of immediate

presence. They may not be immediately present, but the altering of

patrol patterns and the use of swarming tactics always make their

presence possible.

[18] US Army FM 3–19.15: The development of the road grid was meant to

make movement more efficient, but also allowed for bullets to be

projected longer distances without hitting buildings, allowed vision to

project further down wide straight streets, and made streets more

difficult to barricade.

[19] “And he who becomes master of the city used to being free and does

not destroy her can expect to be destroyed by her, because always she

has as pretext in rebellion the name of liberty and her old customs,

which never through either length of time or benefits are forgotten, and

in spite of anything that can be done or foreseen, unless citizens are

disunited or dispersed, they do not forget that name and those

institutions...”; Machiavelli, The Prince, as quoted by Debord, Society

of the Spectacle.

[20] In Hollowland Weizman recounts the debate around the rebuilding of

Jenin after the invasion and destruction of the camp by the Israeli

Defense Forces. The UN wanted to use the rebuilding process as an

opportunity to rationalize the camp, by building permanent structures,

widening roads, and imposing a grid pattern to the streets. Palestinians

rejected the plan, arguing that permanence would sacrifice their claim

to return to their previous land while the rationalization of the

streets would make it easier for the IDF to invade in the future and

easier to monitor, defeating the intentional chaos of the original

development, built to resist invasion by structuring the space around

dense winding streets (difficult for armor to move through and troops to

maintain visual contact in).

[21] “Illegality” is a term that is only defined within the framework of

law and the ability of the police to arrest, but all illegality presents

a gap in police coverage.

[22] Schmitt, 1996

[23] Foucault, 2003: Society Must Be Defended

[24] Ranciere, 2004; “Whether the police are sweet and kind does not

make them any less the opposite of politics” (31).

[25] Clausewitz, 1968

[26] Whenever liberals argue that the “police are people too” they are

hitting on an important point, and then, as usual, completely

misunderstand the implications. If the police are just expressions of a

unit or definition then they are robotic and determined, but not

responsible for the implications of action, while if they are

people—particular existences in particular moments—they only exist as

police to the degree that they attempt to mobilize force to operate

their particular understanding of existence as a total limitation on the

possibilities of existence, making them fascists.

[27] Clausewitz, 1968 170

[28] Delanda, 1991; Napoleonic military structures were characterized by

the breakdown of the aristocracy during the French Revolution and the

advent of mass conscription. Before the French Revolution, European

military tactics were based around largely mercenary armies led by

aristocrats (expensive to train and small) and around highly regimented

maneuver warfare, sieges, and negotiated battles, with neither side

willing to risk their forces in frontal clash. With the rise of Napoleon

the chain of command became meritocratic and the ranks of soldiers,

compelled by nationalism and conscription, swelled, now numbering into

the hundreds of thousands. This allowed battle fronts to stretch for

miles, multiple fronts to be formed, grand maneuvers, and greater speed

through charge and pursuit.

[29] The social here is not referring to some impossible, singular

“Society,” but rather to what occurs between things.