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Title: The Prison Letters of Luciano “Tortuga” Pitronello Author: Luciano Pitronello Date: 2012–2013 Language: en Topics: insurrectionary, chile, letters, prison Source: Retrieved on April 16, 2013 from https://waronsociety.noblogs.org/?tag=luciano-pitronello Notes: incomplete missing letter “On Affection Stike” otherwise complete
since the attack failed
from
, translated with endless love and respect for Tortuga by
:
Note from the group of friends and lovers of Tortuga:
Publishing this letter, at this time, could mean hellish punishment for
our cub, but the urgency to report from his wild sweetness what he feels
and what motivate him is sufficient reason to understand his desires.
Let us appropriate his writings to ourselves. Let us recreate, like so
many times, complicity with the persecuted and the incarcerated inside
and outside of the damn prisons!!
Let us understand ourselves by simply looking at ourselves and
recognizing ourselves: We are anarchists, insurgents, informals,
nihilists, enemies of all authority. Of all fucking authority.
Because we do not have time to rest while they prevent us from feeling
ourselves free.
January 1, 2012 Santiago $hile.
7 months since the attack failed
Letter to the Indomitable hearts
It is difficult to begin to write when I know that I have so much to
communicate and even more to keep quiet; silence has become a great
companion, and not in vain, since my enemies want me to communicate, to
explain myself with my ideas, to justify my illegal action, so that they
can to apply the anti-terrorist law and bury me even in the condition in
which I find myself, they want that trophy of war, a youth with many
wounds, imprisoned for not having tricked himself with the comfort of a
revolution framed within political correctness. Power’s ambition with my
trial is for the señora of the house to tell her little rebel that this
is how idealists meet their end, those who dare to dream, to even think,
that it begins with the rebellion proper to youth and if it goes
unchecked it can end in terrifying consequences–to justify by means of
my example the prison system, the repression for the “good of our
children and the future.”
I know that power wants that, or at the least hopes for it, that in one
way or another I will appear publicly, thus I preferred silence; I think
that in these moments it is much better that others speak for me–my
comrades, known or unknown, just like in endless events for animal
liberation, one knows to speak for those who cannot, I believe that now
the same should happen, because I sincerely think that other comrades,
even from different parts of the world have already done this and have
had splendid results, not only with everything that involves my morale,
but also with everything that involves solidarity, which I would dare to
represent as the first piece of a great row of dominoes, in which one
pushes the first and the second pushes the third and so on successively,
where my morale comes to be one more piece in the dominoes, in which
there is also damage to the system in breaking with its authoritarian
logic, the esteem that the action generates as much on the individual
level as collectively, as well as representing another seat in the
conflict with reality, and one could spend days like this numbering the
different effects that a solidarity action can have.
Nevertheless, as much as my enemies want me to communicate, I know that
many comrades also wanted me to, and you should know that I know this
and I’m sorry you had to spend several months of uncertainty to receive
any news, I profoundly regret not communicating myself in these
circumstances, it was I who always stressed that solidarity should be
reciprocal, and believe me that more than anyone I regretted not having
acted sooner, I felt that I was betraying myself in being silent. “Does
it make him uncomfortable that we act in solidarity with him?” I
speculated that you thought this in interpreting my silence, but I have
a small and beautiful daughter who needs her papá, and I cannot betray
her either. She moved me to silence, my ideals move me to dialogue and
you my forever comrades incite me to the point in between.
I do not like to write without thinking what I want to convey and to be
fully understood, to write something in my situation merits a profound
reflection–is it worth it? Since in my case, unlike the majority of
political trials which are usually frame-ups, in my case it is proven,
since I really did transport a bomb the morning of June 1^(st) with the
destination of the bank branch located on Av. Vicuña Mackenna and
Victoria, downtown Santiago.
For my part, I wanted to tell everyone why the attack failed. How could
I try to communicate myself and ignore something so relevant? Or even,
Why that bank? To politicize an anti-capitalist attack is not only to
advocate for the violence, it is also to put the noose around my neck,
and as for that, Never!, because as long as I am alive I plan to
continue fighting, it doesn’t matter to me if I’m short some fingers, a
hand, my hearing or sight, I will continue forward at all costs, that is
something that my enemies have to know as much as my comrades.
Then you ask me to break with the isolation, with the hermitism around
me; I posit that I would be ashamed to communicate myself, to do so
simply, to which you respond with a blow to my conscience, “And your
comrades?” Do I think that communicating with you is something banal and
unimportant? It’s true, I don’t need to vomit out everything that
happened that night, I believe that in the future there will be time for
that…
So, you want to know about me? Well, I will fight in order to live, and
live in order to fight until being free and wild, I do not trick myself
in thinking that I am less wild if I breathe artificially or not,
because I believe that it is in situations like that when the most wild
human instinct blossoms–the instinct of survival; I’m not trying to
allude to anyone in particular, because I know that many comrades desire
my death with all the best, but I want to from here deliver a lesson for
everyone–one cannot desire the death of a comrade to free them from
their body, unless of course the comrade manifests it, but if that were
the case, the person would seek the means to put an end to their life,
without thus generating a judicial case (homicide) for a third party.
Because what would happen if to “do me a favor” they had killed me? Who
are they who call themselves my comrades to judge whether or not it’s
worth the pain for me to keep living? The only one capable of taking
such a decision is the individual, only he knows what he really desires,
and in particular I want to keep living, in order to continue fighting.
On other other hand, I want you to know that I appreciate all and every
one of the solidarity actions that you have done with me, the banners
hung in different parts of the world or those messages that carry the
same solidarios reach my ears in one way or another, each leaflet, each
counter-information bulletin, each space of your lives that you
dedicated to me I keep as a treasure, know that I have been aware of
everything, that in this world there are not words for my feelings of
gratitude, because each bombing, each arson organized in my name is in
my mind, I can never forget the valiance of my Mexican comrades, the
insubordinates who have made themselves my comrades in Greece, I wish to
embrace the savages of Bolivia and the US, affectionately saluting the
rebels of Spain and Italy, the libertarixs of Argentina–take heart!, not
to mention the iconoclasts of Indonesia–strength, comrades! To the
anonymous of the ALF and ELF in Russia and in the world. To the
imprisoned comrades across the world, I send all my care in these humble
letters, to the comrade Tamara, prisoner in Mexico, to Gabriel Pombo Da
Silva, prisoner in Spain, to Marco Camenisch, prisoner in Switzerland,
to the always dignified comrades of the Cells of Fire, how I envy your
courage, and of course to my comrades of the territory dominated by the
state of $hile, to you who I knew in person know that I carry you in my
heart everywhere I go, I have never been separated from you because I
carry you in my smile; I know that in a letter I could never thank
everyone and each one of the actions I hope that it is understood that I
do not intend to exclude any one, the forms in which you have been in
solidarity with me are many and as diverse as the same struggle, from
illegal actions to activities to telephone calls, internet messages, and
libertarian songs; finally I want you to know, each and every one of you
solidarious rebels that this loco for freedom will Never, never forget
you, you were known to be as great as skyscrapers and to strike where it
hurts, and above all, you made the stars shine with your courage, and
that is something worth imitating.
I would like you to know what the solidarity created for me in those
days when nothing made sense, when learning to remake my life did not
make a bit of sense, because you know I was doing poorly, what happened
to me I would wish on very few people because it was horrible–and in the
greatest darkness there appeared small gestures that pushed me to not
give up. How could I betray those who risk their lives to give me
encouragement? And I learned to conquer life anew; I know that you will
never know how important you have been. Now I find myself as strong as
ever; prison, far from intimidating me, has made me as strong as in
those days; life is paradoxical, because I always said that to have
comrades in prison should never motivate one to fear, entirely the
opposite it should be the reason for the wick in the bottle of gasoline,
for the fuse in the explosive or incendiary charge, for the smile in the
insurgent hearts after each day of attack, this I believed before and I
still believe it, and now I am the one who finds himself a prisoner, so
if my enemies do not succeed in intimidating me when I find myself in
their clutches I see it will be difficult for them to do so with my
comrades.
I plan to confront the prison in the same way that I confront
society–with dignity and happiness, never in a submissive way, to, as
has been said before, make the prison combative. I tell you that I am in
the hospital section of the Santiago 1 prison, here there is a regime
similar to that of the maximum security module of the high security
prison, but without a yard, without radio, without TV, with one weekly
visit of at most 2 people and with the risk of catching the illnesses of
other prisoners; the room is shared and is larger than a cell, around
here they call it the crazy prison, because to spend much time here is
enough to drive you crazy, although I am of the opinion that what does
not kill you makes you stronger, also as they say around here, “we crazy
ones are those who have the most beautiful dreams.” I tell you that I do
a lot of exercise to recuperate the musculature I lost, I sing a lot,
especially the songs that nobody likes, I write letters to my little
baby girl every week, sometimes when I have a roommate I play chess or
we talk, generally the prisons have much care for me and help me a lot.
I rigorously follow my rehabilitation treatment and I try to give myself
encouragement when information from the outside is scarce; also I have
proposed many projects to myself, I am already working on some, others
are for when I have completed my sentence.
I think that a rebel becomes a warrior when one is able to get back up
stronger than one fell, who is able to see a reality even though one has
everything to lose, a warrior does not necessarily have to know how to
make a bomb or handle one, nor to have techniques of camouflage, these
are things one learns by addition, warriors are dangerous for their
ideas and principles because they see all the way to the final
consequences, always firm, steadfast, because they do not betray
themselves nor their comrades, because they are always aware, because
they don’t let themselves be carried by fuck-ups or rumor, because if
they have problems they confront them, if they feel pain they cry, and
if they are happy they laugh; because they know to live out a full life,
though it will not therefore be peaceful–those are the true warriors;
now in this war there are many joyful occasions, but there are also
moments of bitterness, because it is a war, not a juvenile phase, and to
confront the system of domination utilizing these conclusions can carry
disastrous consequences and we should know that beforehand, because an
error, a small carelessness changes everything, I always say this and
this I had understood, therefore I acted according to the terms that I
used. Regarding my wounds, they have all healed, unfortunately the marks
will always remain but I carry them with the same pride as my tattoos,
because they are the best evidence that I am convinced in my ideals–how
could I not be? I carried that bomb with dreams and hopes and those
remain intact.
On the other hand, I regret being unable to keep carrying on in the
projects that I participated in, understanding that for me there was
none that was more valuable than another, each and every one means a
contribution to the social war and I yearn that those projects do not go
adrift because I am not around, on the contrary I should be another
motivation to continue forward, I know that I am not absolved of
criticism, because if I formed part of those dreams I should have acted
not at 100% of caution, but at 150%.
I am sure that my example will close one more chapter and that the new
and not-so-new combatants will know to rescue the positive from all
this, because the struggle continues and there are too many hearts that
do not fit in this authoritarian world and want to open a path, because
we did it in the past we know how to do so in the present, personally I
make a good balance of the anti-authoritarian struggles in the world,
one or another diminishes but generally the prognosis looks good.
But as much as the struggle advances, the repression will too, and my
case will be utilized to reopen the pathetic bombs case frame-up,
therefore I make the suggestion to be alert, never to inaction but
rather to caution, because my self-criticism can be applied by all, the
idea is to share it, nor do I say this as certain science, it is
speculation, perhaps they do not intend more frame-ups for fear of
looking ridiculous again, or maybe they’ll flush down the toilet
everything in which which my deed is accredited, so the call is to be
well awake, with all 5 senses in the street.
To end I want to dedicate some final lines to that person who traveled
with me in the early hours of June 1^(st). Hermanitx,* I know that my
accident must have marked you, perhaps you spend nights without
sleeping, in the uncertainty of daily life, “Will they find out it was
me? Will they notice me? Will I wake up tomorrow or will I have died in
my sleep? Will I be betrayed?” I remember that once I told you that
despite the deep hatred I feel toward the wretch who stabbed his
compañera, I also believed to understand it one should be in a similar
situation, to see if we are as strong as we say, because I have always
believed that betrayal is an internal enemy. Now I can tell you with
certainty that that little guy has no balls! I also remember that before
going out to the street that night I told you that I was going without
my Kabbalah, a totally meaningless thing, something that I felt gave me
luck, you told me that I was crazy for believing in such things, luckily
I brought my other amulet, I am still alive and now we can laugh about
that nonsense. Hermanx, I want you to know that although I could never
imagine the horrible things that have played with your mind or your
heart, I continue to be the same little turtle who smells like feet and
sleeps on the floor and I am never going to have to reproach you for
anything, because that night it was my turn, just like in past times it
had been your turn, if something happens the second person flees, so we
had agreed and so it had to be, because although you might many times
feel like a traitor, you are not, in this war that we decided to take on
there are no words to understand us. I may never see you again, if so,
good luck in everything that comes.
I said it once and now I say it again with pride: Never defeated, never
repentant! From here I send a warm embrace to the people who walk in
clandestinity.
With Mauri present in memory!
Prisoners at war to the street!
Against all authority!
Walking toward the creative nothing!
Luciano Pitronello Sch.
Insurrectionalist Political Prisoner.
Â
 from
translated from spanish by
Making the stars shine with our solidarity.
The news spread fast and (as it has always had to be) the isolation was
not a problem. A call-out for direct solidarity with 3 political
prisoners, defendants in the security case.
With news that the compañeros were also on hunger strike my response to
this situation was immediate, “I too am going to go on strike,” with
astonishment and concern the compañerxs who informed me of the situation
warned me not to be so crazy, to think things through, more calmly, was
I prepared for a hunger strike? In my condition a measure of this nature
could be lethal, because I could lose everything gained as far as my
health is concerned, and it’s true…
What could I do? Send encouraging words without real action of
solidarity has never been my style. What importance could a statement
have when it lacks the most important? And here I want to be emphatic,
the most important thing is to show the compañeros that we are with
them, that when they are hungry in prison it affects our lives, this
reality, this fake social peace, our everyday lives and the damn
bourgeois normality that keeps them prisoners, and that this cannot go
unnoticed, because none of this goes overlooked for our compañeros, nor
prison, nor hunger, nor the high security module, nor isolation, nor
hunger, nor everyday torture by their executioners, nor hunger, nor
abuse, nor hunger, nor the extreme vigilance, nor harassment, nor
hunger, nor the humidity of those dark corridors, nor violence, nor
hunger, nor lack of privacy, nor shackles, nor hunger, nor raids, nor
threats, nor hunger, nor dirt, nor cruelty, nor hunger, nor persecution,
nor shit, nor hunger, nor hunger, nor hunger, nor hunger…
So what will we do my compañerxs? We wait till the situation can’t get
worst? Because we think that such a situation can lead to worst? Are we
going to react only when the compañeros are at vital risk because one
just is not that important or can wait? Since when can a hunger strike
in prison wait? Independently of what we’ll know when its over and
within our small square heads we’ll consider deceiving ourselves into
knowing that the comrades will not starve to death on this occasion and
therefore need not be a priority, there is something called brotherhood
that makes the word compañero not sound as empty as often happens. We
know this well, first the vacations, the beach, family, friends,
partying, you have extra time? Then I go to the march organized for the
compañeros NO! That’s not the social war of which I speak, the social
war of which I speak is not present once a week on a calendar or a
schedule, because what if for example people who go underground take
that attitude? For sure they’d have caught them quite some time ago
already. Or if the people who assist the compañerxs in prison would opt
for similar positions? Surely in this case much would choose death.
Because this type of mediocre consciousness is nothing more and nothing
less than a rebel fashion that will come and go, that will be temporary.
The social war of which I speak, is present 24 hours a day, 7 days a
week, without vacations, without truce, without stopping to recover, and
the compañeros on hunger strike today, are part of that small handful of
people who take on the social consequences of war on a daily basis. Is
it necessary to repeat this?
Therefore, we must know to rise to the occasion, and personally I would
be ashamed to look into the faces of compañerxs who decided to
complicate their lives to the point of having no return to “normal life”
offered by this reality and who sharpened their discourse and praxis
under the same considerations as me. For my part from today, Tuesday
21^(st) of February of this year and a year since the mobilization
initiated by compañerxs of the bombs case frame up in the form of a
hunger strike, I will stop taking 1 of the 3 daily meals, choosing to
eat lunch and dinner, depriving myself of breakfast until the end of the
mobilization. I know that solidarity fasts are not at all a spectacular
action, but I want to express that in the nearly 20 hours without eating
from dinner (17:00 hrs) till lunch the next day (12:00 hrs.), the
compañeros on hunger strike are with me and I with them. I invite Freddy
to get together in an activity that takes place this week, to Marcelo I
sing from an extermination and isolation center and to Juan I send one
of those tight hugs that he sent me from his own physical impossibility
of jail. I also want you to know how easy it would be for me not to stop
eating, shielding myself behind my delicate health, always excuses
abound, but I want this to be a slap on the wrist of all combatants, if
I who am in a really extreme situation am able to show solidarity in a
way, our compañerxs across the wall don’t have any justification for not
leaving even the last drop in the street.
Let the compañeros feel our affection, respect, love and solidarity with
all our courage, that these days serve the compañeros in recharging
their moral, to feel they are not alone, that when we shout “STRENGTH
COMPAÑEROS!” they are not empty words.
LET THE STARS SHINE WITH OUR SOLIDARITY!!
LET’S TALK THE SAME LANGUAGE!!
SOCIAL WAR!!
Luciano Pitronello Sch.
Insurrectionist Political Prisoner
The abyss does not stop us. Communique at one year after the Bombing
that almost cost me my life
First days of June, 2012
To the conscious rebels; to my companions scattered across the world:
A little more than a month has passed since everything changed for me
that cold predawn of June 1^(st) last year, and I believe that to not
declare myself about it would be to play along with the game that has me
here prisoner in the hospital of the Santiago 1 prison, and it would be
a dishonor to myself, but above all to you my dear compañerxs who worry
about me.
I should say: I wanted to make a balance one year from when all this
happened, but did not manifest it publicly for two reasons: the first is
because that text was too compromising, and the second and more
important in my opinion is because nothing was really analyzed in it, it
was only a compilation of frustration, resentment and hatred that raged
against everyone, cursing those who ran off, but now I want to do it, I
feel the lucidity to be able to deliver some words that I am sure are so
deserved.
But before beginning, I want to advise you of the reasons for my delay.
The days have not been easy, the permanent confinement has begun to do
its work, and my mood has been terrible, which is why my first draft of
this communique ended up being a compendium of rage and ire; arrogance,
aggressiveness and haughtiness began to flourish in my attitudes, and
faced with some situations I simply did not recognize myself, but I
fight, I fight to continue forward and not betray myself, trying to
fight my own self in daily life, reminding myself and not forgetting who
I am and why I am here.
Well here I go…
As concerns my wounds and healing it has gone very well, the daily
exercises and practice in the manual labor of life have been done, I say
this with a great smile, that I have surpassed the disability of knowing
myself semi-mutilated; as for my vision it has improved greatly, but I
should continue with the ocular treatment for a good time; as for the
burns, apart from being all healed many have evolved positively, even
so, I should keep using the special compression suit for the burns and
the rose hip oil. At least for me, this chapter that has to do with my
physical state is closed, happily the bomb did not kill me.
My emotional state has been weakening over the past days, but this is
due to the permanent confinement, I know that all prisoners have our
highs and lows, so I am optimistic about this situation, after all, the
confinement cannot be forever, and if it was then they would only have
my flesh, because my mind and spirit will carry on in the street next to
each combatant, smiling and conspiring, and I say this not as a poetic
slogan I affirm it as a reality that is reflected in the projection of
insurgent dreaming where the authoritarian values of domination are
crushed in various ways.
Prison is hard, I will not deny it, but it is possible to confront it,
and we are witnesses of that, myself and each and every one of my
companions who have in different ways embraced me to make me know that I
am not alone. The exemplary punishment that power boasts so much about
is nothing of the sort, at least in my case, since my comrades as well
as myself do not have a clue why their media-spectacle is realized
successfully, and what’s more, the only example we follow here is the
one we give ourselves, wielding our best weapon: solidarity.
Self-critiques I make many, above all in this episode that is called
prison, where I have taken out the worst of myself, for which I humbly
beg the pardon of each and every one of the comrades who I have shown my
teeth to in one way or another, those I have attacked only for the
desire to unload my anger, those I did not want to see/write due to the
rage and envy that my condition created in me, and above all, I beg the
pardon of everyone who has had to swallow bad faces, disagreeable times
and my poor character for the sole fact of wanting to be in solidarity
with me. So as I ought to confess I have not been at the height of the
circumstances, of your solidarity which is enormous, but here we are
ready to move forward, to fall and to get back up again, to learn from
the errors — this is the idea, right?
If I am to make a constructive criticism it would be only that perhaps
there is a lack of first-hand information about what it is to live the
consequences of choosing a rebel life, what it means to live in prison
and isolation, what this brings with it, understanding more closely the
stigma of being considered a terrorist and what goes on with our lives
when this happens, familiarizing ourselves more with subjects like
clandestinity and exile that are recurrent places in the struggle for
freedom in a way that is more real and less imaginary, and finally
starting to speak more about torture, the methods the enemy applies,
crime as base value for a State-police, mutilation as a possibility in
the war against authority, pain and agony as part of the life of
warriors, and thus each and every one of these difficult possibilities
that one can face, beyond speculation and charlatanry.
If I am to share my scant, but no less intense, experience in this
sense, I would say that the work of prison and isolation have to do more
than anything with a moral demotivation, the others start not to matter
a bit, likewise what is happening outside, you adhere yourself to the
prison reality, this is your world now, what do you get from knowing
about what is happening outside if you are inside? You start to worry
always less about yourself, you do not care about anything, you become
contemptuous of others and the environment, you begin to value others’
efforts to get a smile out of you less and less, because they are not
living your nightmare, it follows that you lose the fear of anything
because you know that you have lost everything and you are at the bottom
of the abyss, you have fucked life, you turn hostile and aggressive,
seeking in this way to end everything soon, that the jailers crush you
with their batons for the insults you hurl at them every day, and that,
if you are lucky, they’ll give you a hand and you’ll end up dead, to
finally rest from the psychosis you are carrying or, in the worst case,
that other prisoners do this task to show you who has the most balls.
When the psychosis of confinement advances, gestures of solidarity begin
to matter little, you put to yourself emotional traps like “Why see
importance in a gesture of solidarity if I remain prisoner?” or even
worse, you articulate phrases like,”They are not suffering the
consequences like I am,” and you curse your luck; but some hard loving
and caring slaps are needed to warn us of the toxicity of these
thoughts, that is to say, it is really stupid to believe that only we
live the consequences of confinement, and it is not that one wants for
everyone to live these consequences, but the sense of not being alone
and helpless makes us strong, therefore, when a comrade falls prisoner
it doesn’t just have to do with their confinement/punishment, there are
many noble hearts who decide to accompany the comrade in this new
situation, acting in solidarity with him/her, being present, writing,
spreading news of their situation, vindicating them in the street, with
flyers, pamphlets, posters, shouting their name in the demonstration,
breaking the symbols of power in their honor, etc. Prison and isolation
do their work, you start to dig your own grave and alone you go deeper
into it, until you end up hearing phrases so absurd as that you are
alone, and the worst of this self-imposed trap is that we ourselves take
care of driving off the tools that can help us to not decline, and then,
sickly, we complain and get depressed from the forgetfulness we have
buried ourselves in, because by now no one remembers us, no one is in
solidarity with us, the desperation eats us up inside, and what we think
would be our greatest weapon to confront adversity was crushed by the
walls of silence, our will shattered, and so your projects become of
little relevance, you get discouraged easily, the future becomes
uncertain, you start to lose interest in life, and one anguishing night
you end up hanging yourself in your cell.
So in order to not fall into these kinds of dynamics it is important to
observe oneself constantly and to be evaluating ourselves, clinging to
the things/people/circumstances that make us well, and distancing
ourselves from the harmful (as much as possible), because certainly to
reach a state of carceral psychosis is not a matter of one day or
another, it is a monster that goes on growing in of our minds and hearts
with the passing of times, and it is effectively a gradual process that
we can become aware of and combat before it is too late.
I should say that nobody ever told me what permanent confinement meant
(much less how to confront it), my most real encounters were the
anecdotes of one book or another, and the rest was experienced through
my imagination, with this, I am never saying that today I was not ready
to assume the costs of the postures I had chosen in life, but it
definitely would have been a great help to me. Fine, but at least in my
case I have tried to face this arming myself with projects to contribute
to, even from my condition, it is important to find sense in your days,
they can be simple things, reading a book and giving your opinion,
writing with others who are imprisoned or not, creating music/poetry,
learning to draw, exercising your body, etc; but here I make an note,
our most important projects, at least in permanent confinement, should
be those that are needed only from our readiness and will, and
therefore, I do not foreclose on the possibility of contributing in
projects that are beyond our physical limitations, but one must keep in
consideration that these can bring oceans of frustrations with them:
someone doesn’t come to visit, does not write me back, forgets to bring
this or that, that we organize ourselves around certain themes, and if
our senses of life are limited in turn to just projects in the street,
with a few trip-ups of this kind we will be taken down in terms of
morale more or less quickly; therefore I believe that one must maintain
two kinds of projects, one that makes us maintain contact with the other
side of the wall, and the other that must do more than anything with an
individual labor, that can generate itself even in conditions of maximum
confinement, something that happens in unfortunate cases, be it loss of
communication with the outside, or the seizure only of the material we
use for our individual projects, so we do not decline in morale. It is
important to create support networks for oneself in order to not crumble
along the way, to be observant and analyze what the prison reality
offers you and to take from it what you deem convenient, which is to say
that if the prison keeps you in total isolation you can take advantage
of the silence of this situation to read, write or reflect,
alternatively if it offers you the courtyard you can take advantage of
it to exercise or talk with other prisoners (one can always learn
something useful), and thus in a substantial way the possibility of
elaborating an escape plan or a mutiny always exists independently of
the regimen they submit us to.
If I am to speak about another one of the possible consequences of this
war that some fill their mouths with so much, it would be to say that to
be recognized as an enemy of authority is not easy, less so when you are
labeled as a terrorist in the media, your social environment is affected
almost unanimously, family members, friends and comrades take off
running, turn their backs on you and often deny they ever knew you, few
are the brave who dare to remain with you, the public opinion does its
work and through all the possible methods the system tries to isolate
you, they don’t have to get their hands dirty with the death penalty
anymore, these days the methods are more sophisticated and democratic,
they make your life cease to have meaning because they distance you from
everything that you are a part of, and they don’t just do this
physically by getting you in a cage, but also psychologically to reduce
your convictions, they demonize you collectively, they erase the memory
of what you once were and they transform you into a television case, in
a failed explosive attack, in a bank robbery with a policeman killed, or
into a member of a phantasmic terrorist organization, you are that, you
are your letter of presentation, to such an extent that if you don’t
become aware that you are much more than what the press says, you end up
believing it; and the best example can be given by Mauri–why is he known
for an unsuccessful May 22 and has anyone ever heard of the times when
he helped some elderly people in his neighborhood with their heavy
shopping bags? We ourselves are responsible for reducing him to a date
on the calendar. Society strikes you psychically, your days no longer
have the sense they did before, you are worth nothing and you have
ruining the lives of everyone around you — Why keep existing? Why cause
more pain? They no longer need to stain their hands with your blood;
please, we are civilized people, instead they incite you to finish
yourself off, because they have reduced you to a mere episode, you are
that, a terrorist who only knows how to create pain around him, and so
the best thing you can do is to do your loved ones a favor, that is if
you still have anything of a heart left, and end your life. This is the
hidden discourse that reproduces our shiny Chilean democracy, there are
no longer any revolutionaries, now they minimize us as mere terrorists,
because clearly a revolutionary is someone with feelings, with ideas,
love of freedom and a companion of the oppressed, that is, someone worth
imitating, instead the terrorist is a shadow with impunity who has no
heart and is obsessed with the use of violence due to past childhood
traumas — so how to face this situation?
For my part I have learned to keep public opinion at bay, which is
usually the opinion of the bourgeois press, with the simple act of
analyzing their role one manages to halt much of their discourse,
although I will not deny that many times in their work they have hurt me
deeply, above all when you become aware of these opinions coming from
the mouths of people you love, when they are the ones who put you
between the spade and the wall: either kill yourself or keep hurting us,
wow, how difficult, how intense, then it is your turn to decide, you or
they, you or those you love most, and if you choose yourself what sense
will life have without them? Will you choose yourself? Do you love them
so little? You? Them? The instinct of survival or your love? Which is
stronger? Apparently neither is the correct alternative, but I choose my
life, if I do not love myself, it is impossible for me to love others.
And I end up expelling various persons from my life and from my heart
for always, I keep going, alone and wounded like that predawn, confused,
with death stalking me and red in flames of ire, life hit me again, but
it is only another chapter and I get up again, this time with the help
of what was never missing: solidarity. Now I reflect on it, one year
after the bombing that almost cost me my life, and I do not repent these
decisions, the pain was better, like the bomb, it was momentary, but
life continued and the suffering of these episodes went diffused with
the passing of time, life continues, struggle continues, and what is
insurmountable today will tomorrow be nothing more than a story, another
chapter in this existence of combat.
At this point I have spoken of two possible consequences in
revolutionary struggle, prison and being recognized as an enemy of
society, but I have not spoken of the consequence that is most noted in
my case, the mutilation of our bodies and how we can keep fighting in
spite of this. If I am to speak of healing and how the mutilation of our
bodies becomes like a cross that one must carry for life, I believe that
it is important to point out that each case is particular, having its
windows and own difficulties. But I suppose that in the final count
there are enough similarities. At first you are discouraged, it is like
a cataclysm that dusted your life away and all beautiful feelings find
themselves under the rubble of mutilation, desires that what happened to
you had only been a bad dream that you will soon wake up from, you
become obstinate toward the obvious, this could not have happened to
you, there must be an explanation, but the only explanation is the one
the mirror gives you, the days pass, you get depressed, you think that
you will never get past it, you need to ask for help for some basic
tasks and this causes you an uncomfortable humiliation, you become
hateful and this new situation frustrates you, the people who try to
encourage you notice your resignation, life like this does not make
sense, but they apply themselves to support you in spite of your mood,
you are irritated, you don’t want to do exercises or rehabilitate
yourself, you want to send everything to the shit, take your life away,
this seems to be an option, but you are afraid that in the attempt you
will end up worse off, you are confused, you cry in the nights of
solitude and you make yourself like a wild beast in front of others, you
are wounded you know, but you have to heal your heart to be able to
start to recover. If you manage to make it this far, you have taken a
step forward in the path toward victory, your victory, because this is a
battle, now you should arm yourself with patience, frustration is just
around the corner, one, two, three, one hundred falls, nobody said it
would be easy, but look at yourself, you don’t do it very well, but you
do it, and alone, without help, a pat on the back, the rest is practice
they tell you, if you could do it once, you can do it again, you look
around you, physically you are alone, and you accomplish it: you smile.
How long has it been since you smiled? You don’t need to show it to
anyone, you have shown it to yourself, you are a warrior giving one of
your best fights, you resign yourself not to die, this is for the brave,
a few more stumbles, ridicule from the usual suspects, reality takes
care of putting you on the uphill, you lay it on yourself, it is
difficult, but you already did not renounce yourself, that is a fact,
you look back, you’ve come a long way to collapse here, now you have
reasons to continue, you cannot fail all of them, the who you love and
who want to see you happy, but above all, you cannot fail yourself, you
told yourself this once when things were difficult, you are a warrior
for life, and you clench your teeth against the shame, sometimes you say
horrible things, you are implacable in front of yourself, other times
you feel the proudest in the world, you did not fall in spite of
everything, the days move forward, you start to take in the ritual of
all this, you no longer turn sour before your reflection, you begin to
accept it, you learn things that are new for this context, but not so
new for life itself, you relearn to learn, things now are seen in a
different nuance and one afternoon with the sun still as company you set
the ultimatum, if I do not remake my life by this date then I will not
go on with this madness…
Finally you persist, you manage to get past it, that date arrives when
you have to make the evaluation of your performance and the smile on
your face reveals that you have passed the text with success and
excellence, then you do not feel disabled nor incapacitated, nor
anything, you are another warrior, ready to face anything.
As for what concerns my case in particular, I suppose that what happened
to me was what happens in the majority of serious accidents, I wanted to
seek a rapid and simple solution (death), but some provoked me, some
very rudely, at least they tried to, and so, clinging to solidarity I
kept on until the recovery began to give its first results, now with
this background I got it into my head that I could get myself up out of
this fall, I remember that the stubbornness and obstinacy played much in
my favor, since there were people who did not give a shit about my
recovery (including medical specialists), but in the end I would make
the best judgment myself, it would only a question of time, I also
remember that I went through many embarrassments that I would prefer not
to disclose hahaha, and these happened because I went against time in my
recovery, I tried to do/practice everything, even without having
rehearsed things, and I say that I went against time because I wanted to
go into the prison as recovered as possible, I did not want to even
think of a prison guard assisting me, I luckily that never happened.
After going into the prison on November 22 with a tight stomach and high
morale, I prepared to take advantage of this new situation of total
confinement to finish with rehabilitating completely, and there was no
lack of times when they ridiculed me for my physical condition, but in
the face of these situations I bit my tongue and thought that sooner or
later they would regret their jokes, because I knew better than anyone
that they were spitting at the sky, soon I would be totally recovered
and they would not dare to speak to me that way; the time passed, I took
my time, I went as slow as a turtle, I exercised every day without a
break, whether it was cold or hot, I was disciplined with myself, and it
was a question of practice, patience and perseverance (the 3 “P”s like I
told you) to find myself totally recovered, and well, here I am, look at
me one year after the bombing that almost killed me. Who said that I
would bite the mud of humiliation forever? Who said that I would be
defeated for the rest of my life? Who said that the struggle does not
make us great? If my ideas can bring me to lose my life, they can also
bring me to recover it, that was always my gamble, and so I have thrown
myself with all my strength into the fight, because I recognize in it
the greatness to break the chains, and it is a matter of observing me in
the everyday to confirm this assertion, if with telling you that I can
even thread a needle, like this, as I am, with 8 of the 10 fingers of my
hands, I can tie my shoelaces, cook, wash, make nice origami cubes and
if it pleases me I can even carry out all the tasks that I did before,
clearly, the only small difference is that it takes me a little longer,
but that is such a small detail, so insignificant if you compare with
how close I was to death, with what passed over, because after
everything I always knew it, for revolutionaries impossibilities do not
exist, and my splendid recovery is proof of that.
What matters is to never lose the spirit of struggle, not ever, it does
not matter how terrible things look, but while your mind and your heart
do not betray you the rest becomes mere detail, our bodies can weaken,
it is true, but what makes us great has nothing to do with flesh and
bones, what turns us into giants are our convictions, our spirit of
knowing that we do what is correct.
Now, I write these lines not only to warn of the awful consequences that
revolutionary struggle can bring with it, I also do it to contribute in
the creation of new and not so new methods for confronting the difficult
journeys that we can carry our decisions along. And And it is that on
this occasion I can contribute with some examples, through which I
encourage other comrades to share their experiences, since the
possibilities of struggle are infinite, madness, rape, exile,
mutilation, victory, torture, clandestinity, laughter, imprisonment,
pain, betrayal, amnesia, dependency, beatings, humiliation, death, all
of these, none, others, and so many more, and how many of the warriors
in the street today who fight against power and its designs know this?
That is, how prepared are we to assume the costs of the social war if we
do not know these kinds of things? Can we speak of not repenting without
having all this in consideration? Do we understand the significance of
prison? What it brings with it? Or do we comprehend what it carries when
a comrade is mad? How far do we understand the consequences of declaring
ourselves enemies of the State/Capital?
In a struggle against the system in its totality, we have everything to
lose, and do we accept these conditions before we embark on the search
for our dreams? I am of the idea of knowing what one is involved in, so
as to also know to abide by the consequences, assuming them and coming
out gracefully through them, because otherwise what happens is what a
dear and close compañera warned of: we turn ourselves into the worst
propaganda of struggle.
If we think carefully, it should not surprise us that many comrades of
before have chosen self-exile as a response to some of these
consequences, and it really very difficult to continue the fight in an
area where through the media and socially the system cries for your
annihilation, in the end how can one confront the system when it is
obsessed with confronting you, having you individualized, located and
pointed out? Now, I believe that if it is indeed true that the exile of
before served to hide behind the comfort of a normal life, far from the
criminalization of revolutionary ideas, today, and with the validity of
the proposal of the comrades of the Conspiracy of Cells of Fire, of
arming an International Revolutionary Front, it remains clear that it
does not matter whether we find ourselves prisoners, exiles in another
region, or clandestine on another continent, the struggle is only one
and it surpasses the barriers of nations and borders, because
independently of the language we speak or the idiosyncrasies that
differentiate us, the struggle continues to be against structures of
power, against the values of authority and against the logic of
exploitation and domination, bonding us in this way with each and every
one of the warriors who fight for the same objective as ourselves:
freedom. I recognize myself in the internationalist struggle, since I
know first-hand its excellent results, which is why I take advantage of
this instance to unite myself to the proposal of the comrades in Greece,
embracing the initiative of the FAI/FRI as a project that appeals to the
same criteria as I, hoping that this communique can be a true and real
contribution, above all for the comrades who live in situations similar
to mine and/or to those who in an unwanted future will have to pass
through this.
If I am to make a balance of all this, one year after the bombing that
almost cost me my life, my result is positive, very positive, and I will
not deny that things were difficult, because there were days dark as the
depths of the sea, when everything was crumbling around me, my life as I
had constructed it went to shit, but this helped me, with the pain
caused, to learn that all this I had built I had not made sufficiently
solidly as to endure the praxis of my discourse, if family, friends,
comrades and lovers took off flying away from my side, to speak much
more profoundly than just physically, to see myself in this situation
where many thought that it would be better for me to just sink alone
before I would take more people down with me, since they believe that I
would never get back up from this, if all these people underestimated me
because in their smallness they thought that they themselves wouldn’t be
able to stand such a fall as mine, today they are not at my side, it is
only for their mediocrity, because know this: I do not lack the
affection to forgive them, after everything, not one of us was prepared
for this. But for all the rudeness of my words and life, there was no
lack of gestures of love and absolute dedication, making me know that in
spite of everything they were with me, in the good and in the bad, until
the end, reaffirming bonds already forged, perhaps only with incredulous
gazes of companionship, with one or another conversation walking around
the block, sharing a snack or fraternally criticizing each other on the
bench of a plaza.
Power wanted me out of the fight, they wanted to suspend me eternally in
June 1^(st) 2011, and they even try to do it today, it is something to
observe why I am known and where I find myself, but for me none of this
is over, I will continue, I will get up, I will show my claws again and
I will keep fighting, confronting the enemy constantly, as in my best
times, because I am not a warrior who must be remembered with longing, I
am another companion, another one of the pack, only in the bowels of the
prison beast, all that differentiates me from the companions in the
street is the situation that we face, but if you are able to risk your
freedom and even life in the struggle that bonds us, why should it be
different for me? One year after the failed attack on the Santander bank
branch, I have raised myself with ferocity, I won, even though I sit on
the bench of the accused, because I knew to take the reigns of my life
with my own hands, I triumphed in the face of the life of commerce that
they want to impose on us and in the face of death as the only exit, but
this victory is not only mine, what arrogance it would be on my part to
believe so, because if it were not for the bold comrades who dared to
send me their encouragement and care, know this for certain that today I
would not be writing these lines, and so, we, the combatants of the new
urban guerrilla, are their defeat.
To all those beautiful people who understand that the social war is much
more than bombs, bullets and benzine, and who know that solidarity is
much more than a hobby to invest your free time in, to all those who
cannot pacify their dreaming while they know that one of their own is
suffering, to those who if they did not have the free time kept looking
for it, skipping work or class because they know that it depended on
them to raise a comrade’s morale, to all those who took on the fun and
exciting adventure of conquering freedom, to the comrades of the
FAI/FRI, to my dear friend Reyhard Rumbayan (Eat), who with his noble
gestures has brought me strength when I was weak, to all those absolved
of the bombs case frame-up, whose freedom meant a smile for me when it
seemed it would be a torment, to the comrades of the Conspiracy of Cells
of Fire, who with their dignity motivate me to continue fighting, to
Gabriel Pombo da Silva, Marco Camenisch, and to all the comrades
investigated and arrested in the repressive raid against the anarchist
movement in Italy, to Mauri who taught me that a wolf clenches his jaw
even after death, to the autonomous collectives who attack with
decisiveness, to the companions who are clandestine, exiled or hostage,
to the brave solidarians, to the conscious rebels, to all of you I
dedicate these lines, I send you a warm embrace and I owe you the
determination of keeping me alive, because you have to know, you were
oxygen when there was none.
Because when you shouted “strength compañero” I felt stronger than ever!
Because neither prison nor agony nor death will detain us! Long live the
International Revolutionary Front! Long live the Informal Anarchist
Federation! Death to the State! The struggle continues! Toward victory,
always!
Luciano Pitronello Sch. Insurrectionalist Political Prisoner.
Â
from
, transl
:
Note from LT: On August 7^(th), after the verdict made against Tortuga
allowed him to leave the prison, which they reaffirmed on August 15^(th)
when he was sentenced to 6 years of “supervised freedom.” Now he is on
total house arrest. From this space we greet the comrade and his
tremendous conviction to continue to fight.
When the Fire of Anarchy Nourishes Our Hearts
When Borders, Languages, and Prisons Cannot Separate Us
September 10, 2012
I write with a bit of hunger, with an empty stomach but a satisfied
heart, although of course I would never compare my hunger with what
other compañerxs must be going through. Today, Monday September 10^(th),
2012, on house arrest, I declare a 48-hour solidarity fast (September 10
and 11); I believe it necessary to explain the reason why I chose two
days to take this measure and of course also why I choose the fast as an
instrument of struggle on this occasion.
In part, I chose to fast for the simple reason that it is a good time to
write reflections that have been running through my head in respect to
some of the repressive operations anarchists and anti-authoritarians all
over the world have been living through, as well as seizing the
opportunity to express solidarity with the compañerxs on hunger strike
from Operation Ardire.*
I consider it a vile thing to express opinions and reflections in
regards to themes that do not affect us in a major way, this is why I
decided to share, if only for a few little hours, in the hunger of the
compañerxs enduring repression, making them feel that I am with them in
every moment, that their hunger strike reverberates in my timid heart
and due to the good luck of finding my self in house arrest, I have been
very well informed about how things have been going on those sides. You
have to know that during these days I agitate, albeit in a small way,
for you all, that I share in your hunger and above all, in your longing
for freedom.
I chose 2 days to fast because the 10^(th) of Sept. was precisely the
last day of a hunger strike carried out by compas Marco Camenisch
(imprisoned in Switzerland), Sergio Maria Stefani, Stefano Gabriel Fosco
and Elisa di Bernardo (imprisoned in Italy), the truth is I am unaware
if there will be more compañerxs on hunger strike, my greetings to them
as well, but as I said, all of these people are compxs enduring
repression in the tragic hunt for anarchists absurdly named Operation
Ardire,* I should mention that 7 other compas are being prosecuted in
this new raid, that basically pretends to strike the locas, but clearly
strikes self-chosen anarchists who have begun to become a annoying
cancer to the system and its logic in the territory that is dominated by
the Italian, Swiss, and German states. It seems important to me to
mention that in Italy their is a significant anarchist/
anti-authoritarian movement, and I am not talking solely quantitatively
but qualitatively as well, as in Germany and Switzerland where there are
two known compañerxs whom after years of isolation have been supported
in struggle within and outside of prison, this is important to show to
me because if it is true, according to my observation, Operation Ardire
was a blow to the locas and was not in any case blind, it does not seek
out those responsible for the attacks carried out but the FAI (Informal
Anarchist Federation) but seeks those who fit the ideological profile
(in the eyes of authority) and this to me merits if not a debate then at
the least a little bit of analysis on the part of the compxs, not only
those directly effected by the repression, but by all, by every person
who comprises this anarchist/ anti-authoritarian movement, for as
diffuse and contradictory as this movement can seem, it is international
as well. Leaving the small differences that we can have in many of our
own positions, it is of the utmost importance to understand that the
soiled phrase “it could happen to anyone” really is true, but here I
want to stop myself a bit, because it is also true that when I say it
can happen to anyone I refer specifically to anyone who has a political
life confrontational to the system and its values, independent of the
methods utilized to confront these things, a contra information blog or
a letter bomb sent to an embassy, the social war grows with everything,
because we can not pretend to demolish the system at gunpoint, illegal
actions are good (always and when carried out with the minimum
revolutionary requirements), but they should be necessarily complemented
by other instants, moments to reflection, to share between compañerxs ,
to love ourselves, to put ourselves in tension with the everyday and
mark differences, evaluations, and critiques, in order to in this way
further the growth of the individual and the collective.
All of this I say after the memory of the hunt initiated against 4
compas that effectively coincided with the profile of those sought by
authorities after an assault on a bank on the 18 of October, 2007 came
to me immediately. During the attack a cop was killed outright and
another left wounded in the central streets of Santiago, Chile. To me it
is no coincidence that they intend to associate Juan Aliste Vega with
the person who fired the shots at the henchmen who hoped to detain the
assailants, for its well known that Juan was previously a prisoner for a
crime against a cop in the 90s. Coincidence? Never! The political
apparatus seeks submission if not through fear and inaction (manifested
legally or illegally), then through the prevention of movement by
incarceration in prison, the same thing occurred with Freddy
Fuentevilla, Carlos Gutiérrez and Marcelo Villarroel, known compas with
anticapitalist political lives, therefore it seems fitting to ask: Why
are the compas prosecuted in Italy, Switzerland, and Germany? Because
they fit a profile? And if this is it what position should we take in
light of these events?
Another similar case is Operation Salamandra where squats and autonomous
spaces were raided and closed, where many compas were beaten violently,
where they were prosecuted for “illicit terrorist association”, for the
placement of more than a score of bombings in different parts of the
capital of Chile, for the financing of the practice of terrorism 14
anarchist and anti-authoritarian compañerxs were cowardly marked,
beaten, imprisoned, and submitted to an absurd and nefarious process
which attempted to not only take away said compañerxs from the struggle,
but also leave a thick trail of fear and panic in opening/supporting a
space against that which domination imposes, to initiate relationships
with people known and documented by the state or even worse, to
reproduce the enemy’s discourse by justifying repression, therefore, for
me at this point the wave of repression makes it easy to read between
the lines. They do not seek to imprison those behind the bombings, nor
the assailants of banks, nor the compas who carried out the attacks
claimed by the FAI, this practice is only the propagandist and violent
reflection of a life rebelling against authority, they seek to castigate
and exemplify that by choosing a determined way of life you will find
yourself in the sights of the police, the press, the citizens in the
service of power, but if you choose a normal way of life, you may walk
in peace. Peacefully? What is peacefully? To crush yourself into a day
to day routine of shit that will exhaust your spirit into abandoning a
life that means anything? Yes if for the others this is to live
peacefully, well then I prefer to live a libertarian life wildly.
Operation Salamandra, Operation Ardire and the accusations against the
prisoners and fugitive of the Security Case are not different at all
except in the methods of the enemy’s actions, that in some cases mark
those who live/frequent certain spaces, others who communicate from
inside of prison and give their support through letters and communiques,
or others who carry the weight of their subversive past, in each of
these cases their is a common factor which is the urgent need to fight,
this unwavering energy that springs up against injustice and this will I
have already talked about, which is felt by many people, many many
people, therefore it is necessary to understand that yesterday it was
some squats and compañerxs with combative histories in Chile, today it
is some blogs and individuals known to be at war against authority in
Italy, Switzerland, and Germany, but tomorrow it could be whomever in
whichever part of the world, as we are seeing in Bolivia with the
compañerxs accused of terrorism Henry Zegarrundo y Mayron Gutiérrez who
find themselves imprisoned for the insane collaboration of being
infamous, as we are seeing in Greece in the case of Tasos Theofilou who
was detained for being an anarchist, this is his crime, as we are seeing
paradoxically and again and again in Italy where over 4 operations
against social dissidence are being carried out, well my compañerxs I
believe in the urgent necessity of taking lessons from all of this-
Where does the enemy truly aim?
Personally I believe they aim to create terror because if you give life
to an occupied space repression will reign down on top of you, if you
respond to letters from inside a prison you will be marked as the leader
of a terrorist group, if you maintain a counter information web page you
will become the ideologue of an armed group, if you talk about how bad
the world is at this point, the police collaborators will turn you in on
silver platter to the authorities, if you express solidarity with
whichever person they will talk of networks of conspiracy, for in the
face of fear they try to paralyze us.
Perhaps many have been thinking about these reflections, but I have
seen, felt the smell of fear of the others little by little in the
incarceration of various people during the Bombs Case, where compxs who
were perfectly able to come to these conclusions preferred to have
discussions or activities in the park or in one of the few autonomous
spaces left, reasons to self organize will always remain, the truth is
at least in Chile power succeeded (up to a point) in its commitment to
strike on the 14^(th) of August, and I think that to reproduce what
power desires if not betrayal, is at the least cowardly. Do we want to
isolate ourselves? I respond clearly: Fuck that! I will write to the
prisoners as I please, You don’t want spaces of rebellion in your
monotonous cities? Let’s open more squats, You want to repress counter
information blogs? We will hack the entire internet if need be, this
thinking should be the response before the repressive blows, aligning
ourselves with the oppressed and sending our cries for freedom to the
four winds. I think it is important to share these reflections of our
own assessments of repressive blows we are living through on an
international level, to in this way give more that an emotional impulse,
effective and with spirit to the IRF (International Revolutionary
Front), an analytical capacity to the reality that repression, with its
various dimensions and points of view, evidently stalks us. We do not
get anything out of thinking/sharing certain reflections or analysis if
we do not internalize it ourselves, it is necessary to make a practice
out of our discourse, I think rebellious, I am rebellious!
Fortunately in these parts they have little managed to recover the
security to go into a Squatted/Autonomous Social Center in order to
strike up conversations with people who the police have files on, or to
start some project antagonistic to power, but even though I believe that
we still have a ways to go, it seems strange to me that the idea of
opening a Library in a public space would seem almost insanity, or that
people would still absurdly believe that if they have relationships with
determined persons then repression will come down on them, even going so
far as to finally point at the people they charge with the stigma of
being guilty of future arrests.
I also decided on September 11^(th) to start fasting because I believe
it is important to agitate for a strong memory, to not forget, not
forgive, and not negotiate, since 39 years ago on a September 11^(th)
one of the crudest dictatorial eras in Latin America began, with the
inquisitor Augusto Pinochet at the head of a merciless military
machinery at the service of the rich; we must not forget all those who
died at the hands of the dictatorship, we must not forget the arrested
who were disappeared (under any regime, call it dictatorship or
democracy), we must not forget that it is these episodes that make some
people raise our voices again. I chose this date because I cannot fail
to mention that it was also on a September 11^(th) in 1998 when the
anarchist compañera Claudia López was killed from behind at the hands of
a valiant uniformed figure of the Chilean Carabineros in the
neighborhood of La Pincoya; Claudita would perhaps now be with us, she
would be one of the compañeras with much to contribute and with an
abundance of experience in minoritarian struggles and struggles in the
streets, since we remember that she participated in the clashes between
encapuchadxs and police in the so-called “Cordón Macul,” that was
Claudia, a compañera who threw herself into the dance and the barricade,
and those fucking bastards at the service of power took her forever from
our side, therefore, due to the frustration of not being able to have
shared with her because of a waged wretch killed her, on September
11^(th) I will be fasting. I chose September 11^(th) because on this day
the judicial process will begin against a wounded anarchist in Mexico,
against a compañero of praxis whose incendiary bomb exploded on him
before it was supposed it, an accident similar to mine, Mario LĂłpez,
brother, I am with you, be Strong!
These words go with special dedication to all those I mentioned, to the
comrades repressed in Italy/Switzerland/Germany by Operation Ardire,
Operation Mangiafuoco, Operation Ixodidae and Operation Thor, all the
compañerxs repressed in Italy, the compañerxs incriminated in Operation
Salamandra and the compañeros accused in the Security Case in Chile and
with much affection to the anarchist compañero Mario López imprisoned in
Mexico.
With dedication to the memory of every one of the combatants fallen in
the anti-dictatorial struggle against the Pinochet regime and its
democratic following, especially in honor to Claudia LĂłpez.
I also take advantage of this instance to thank everyone who has
accompanied me in this hard and difficult period of my life, whether
physically or not it is the same, you know what I am referring to, but
in truth I am very grateful to you.
Because for me the struggle continues outside and inside of the prisons!
Not a minute of Silence!
A whole life of Combat!
Black September!
Luciano Pitronello Sch.
Insurrectionalist Ex- Political Prisoner.
Translator’s Note:
Ardire is an Italian word for boldness/daring, which is why Luciano
calls it absurd for the state’s cowardly operation to call itself by
this name. This operation, launched in the summer of 2012, as well as
the repressive operations called Mangiafuoco, Ixodidae, and Thor all
target anarchists in Italy. For more information, see:
,
,
,
or search on the counter-information sites for the particular names of
the operations..