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Title: Thoughts on the City
Author: Anonymous
Date: Summer 2003
Language: en
Topics: green anarchy, Green Anarchy #13, cities, urbanism, militarization, the city
Source: Retrieved on 21 August 2018 from http://greenanarchy.anarchyplanet.org/files/2012/05/greenanarchy13.pdf
Notes: from Green Anarchy Issue 13, Summer 2003

Anonymous

Thoughts on the City

The necessity for space is eminently political. The places in which we

live condition the ways in which we live, and inversely, our

relationships and activities modify the spaces of our lives. It’s a

question of daily experience, and yet we seem incapable of drawing the

tiniest result from it. One only needs to take a walk through any city

to understand the nature of the poverty of our way of life. Almost all

urban space responds to two needs: profit and social control. They are

places of consumption organized according to the increasingly strict

rules of a market in continuous expansion: the security market. The

model is that of the commercial center; a collective privatized space,

watched by the people and instruments provided by the appropriate

agencies. In the commercial centers, an increasingly “personalized”

sociality is built around the consumer and his family; now, one can eat,

play with children, read, etc. in these neon places. But if one enters

without any money, one discovers that it is a terrifying illusion of

life.

The same thing happens, more or less, in the metropolises. Where can one

meet for discussion, where can one sit without the obligation to

consume, where can one drink, where can one sleep, if one has no money?

For an immigrant, for a poor person, for a woman, a night in the city

can be long. The moderates, comfortable in their houses, don’t know the

nocturnal world of the street, the dark side of the neon, when the

police wake you up on the benches, when everything seems foreign and

hostile to you. When the middle classes are enclosed in their bunkers,

cities reveal their true faces as inhuman monsters.

Cities increasingly come to resemble fortresses, and houses, security

cells. Social war - the war between the rich and the poor, the governors

and the governed - is institutionalized in urban space. The poor are

deported to the outskirts in order to leave the centers to the offices

and banks (or to the tourists). The entrances of the cities and a great

many “sensitive” areas are watched by apparatuses that get more

sophisticated every day. The lack of access to determined levels of

consumption – levels defined and controlled by a fixed computer network

in which the data of banking, insurance, medical, scholastic and police

systems are woven together – determines, in the negative, the new

dangerous classes, who are confined in very precise urban zones. The

characteristics of the new world order are reflected in metropolitan

control. The borders between countries and continents correspond to the

boundaries between neighborhoods or to the magnetic cards for access to

specific private buildings or, as in the United States, to certain

residential areas. International police operations recall the war

against crime or, more recently, the politics of “zero tolerance”

through which all forms of deviance are criminalized. While throughout

the world the poor are arrested by the millions, the cities assume the

form of immense prisons. Don’t the yellow lines that consumers have to

follow in certain London commercial centers remind you of those on which

some French prisoners have to walk? Isn’t it possible to catch a glimpse

of the checkpoints in the Palestinian territories in the militarization

of Genoa during the G8 summit? Proposals for a nightly curfew for

adolescents have been approved in cities just two steps away from ours

(in France for example). The houses of correction reopen, a kind of

penal colony for youth; assembling in the inner courtyards of the

popular condominiums (the only space for collective life in many

sleeping quarters) is banned. Already, in most European cities, the

homeless are forbidden access to the city center and beggars are fined,

like in the Middle Ages. One may propose (like the Nazis of yesterday

and the mayor of Milan today) the creation of suitable centers for the

unemployed and their families, modeled after the lagers for undocumented

immigrants. Metallic grids are built between rich (and white)

neighborhoods and poor (and... non-white) neighborhoods. Social

apartheid is advancing, from the United States to Europe, from the south

to the north of the world. When one in three blacks between the ages of

20 and 35 get locked up in cells (as occurs in the United States), the

proposal for closing the city centers to immigrants here can pass almost

unobserved by us. And many may even applaud the glorious marine military

when it sinks the boats of the undocumented foreigners. In an

interweaving of classist exclusion and racial segregation, the society

in which we live increasingly looks like a gigantic accumulation of

ghettoes.

Once again the link between the forms of life and the places of life is

close. The increasing precariousness of broad layers of society proceeds

at the same pace as the isolation of individuals, with the disappearance

of meeting spaces (and therefore of struggle) and at the bottom, the

reserves in which most of the poor are left to rot. From this social

condition, two typically totalitarian phenomena are born: the war

between the exploited, which reproduces without filters the ruthless

competition and social climbing upon which capitalist relationships are

built, and the demand for order and security, produced and sponsored by

a propaganda that is perpetually hammered home. With the end of the

“cold war”, the Enemy has been moved, both politically and through the

media, into the interior of the “free world” itself. The collapse of the

Berlin Wall corresponds to the construction of the barriers between

Mexico and the United States or to the development of electronic

barriers for the protection of the citadels inhabited by the ruling

classes. The criminalization of the poor is openly described as a “war

of low intensity”, where the enemy, “the exotic terrorist”, here becomes

the illegal foreigner, the drug addict, the prostitute. The isolated

citizen, tossed about between work and consumption through those

anonymous spaces that are the ways and means of transport, swallows

terrifying images of treacherous young people, slackers, cut-throats –

and an imprecise and unconscious feeling of fear takes possession of

individual and collective life.

Our apparently peaceful cities increasingly show us the marks of this

planetary tendency to government through fear, if we learn how to look

for them.

If politics is defined as the art of command, as a specialized activity

that is the monopoly of bureaucrats and functionaries, then the cities

in which we live are the political organization of space. If, on the

other hand, it is defined as a common sphere for discussion and

decisions regarding common problems, then one could say that the urban

structure is projected intentionally toward depoliticizing individuals

in order to keep them in isolation and lost in the mass at the same

time. In the second case, therefore, the political activity par

excellence is revolt against urban planning as police science and

practice; it is the uprising that creates new spaces for encounter and

communication. In either sense, the question of space is an eminently

political question.

A full life is a life that is able to skillfully mix the pleasure of

solitude and the pleasure of encounter. A wise intermingling of villages

and countryside, of plazas and free expanses could render the art of

building and dwelling magnificent. If, with a utopian leap, we project

ourselves outside of industrialism and urbanization, in short outside of

the long history of removal on which the current technological society

is built, we can imagine small communities based on face-to-face

relationships that areas linked together, without hierarchies between

human beings or domination over nature. The journey would cease to be a

standardized transport between weariness and boredom and would become an

adventure free of clocks. Fountains and sheltered places would welcome

passers-by. Wild nature could once again become a place of discovery and

stillness, of tremors and escape from humanity. Villages could be born

from forests without violence in order to then return to being

countryside and forest. We can’t even imagine how animals and plants

would change when they no longer feel threatened by human beings. Only

an alienated humanity could conceive of accumulation, profit and power

as the basis for life on Earth. While the world of commodities is in

liquidation, threatened by the implosion of all human contact and by

ecological catastrophe, while young people slaughter each other and

adults muddle through on psycho-pharmaceuticals, exactly what is at

stake becomes clearer: subverting social relationships means creating

new spaces for life and vice versa. In this sense, a “vast operation of

urgent demolition” awaits us.

Mass industrial society destroys solitude and the pleasure of meeting at

the same time. We are increasingly constrained to be together, due to

forced displacements, standardized time, and mass-produced desires; yet

we are increasingly isolated, unable to communicate, devoured by anxiety

and fear, unable, above all, to struggle together. Any real

communication, any truly egalitarian dialogue can only take place

through the rupture of normality and habit, only in revolt.

In various parts of the world, the exploited refuse every illusion about

the best possible world, turning their feeling of total spoliation

against power. Rising up against the exploiters and their guard dogs,

against their property and their values, the exploited discover new and

old ways of being together, discussing, deciding and making merry.

From the Palestinian territories to the aarch (village assemblies) of

the Algerian insurgents, uprisings free spaces for social

self-organization. Often the rediscovered assembly forms are like

applications of old traditions of face-to-face relationships, hostile to

all representation, forged in the pride of other struggles, to the

current agenda. If violent rupture is the basis of uprisings, their

capacity to experiment with other ways of living, in hope that the

exploited elsewhere will stoke their flames, is what renders them

lasting, since even the most beautiful utopian practices die in

isolation.

The places of power, even those that are not directly repressive, are

destroyed in the course of riots not only because of their symbolic

weight, but also because, in power’s realms, there is no life.

Behind the problem of homes and collective spaces, there stand an entire

society. It is because so many work year after year to pay off a loan

simply to keep a roof over their head that they aren’t able to find

either the will or the space to talk with each other about the absurdity

of such a life. On the other hand, the more that collective spaces are

enclosed, privatized or brought under state control, the more houses

themselves become small, grey, uniform and unhealthy fortresses. Without

resistance, everything is degraded at a startling speed. Where peasants

lived and cultivated the land for the rich as recently as fifty years

ago, now the people of rank live. The current residential neighborhoods

are the most unlivable of the common houses of thirty years ago. Luxury

hotels seem like barracks. The logical consequences of this

totalitarianism in urban planning are those sorts of tombs in which

Japanese employees reload their batteries. The classes that exploit the

poor are, in their turn, mistreated by the system that they have always

zealously defended.

Practicing direct action in order to snatch the spaces for life from

power and profit, occupying houses and experimenting with subversive

relationships, is a very different thing from any sort of more or less

fashionable alternative juvenilism. It is a matter that concerns all the

exploited, the left-out, the voiceless. It’s a question of discussing

and organizing without mediators, of placing the self-determination of

our relationships and spaces against the constituted order, and of

attacking the urban cages. In fact, we do not think that it is possible

to cut ourselves out any space within this society that is truly

self-organized where we can live our own way. Our desires are far too

excessive. We want to create breaches, go out into the streets, speak in

the plazas, in search of accomplices for making the assault on the old

world. Life in society is to be reinvented. This is everything.