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Title: “Yet Another Fenced World”
Author: Olga Oikonomidou
Language: en
Topics: prison, gender, patriarchy, Return Fire, Conspiracy of Cells of Fire, CCF, Greece, reflection, letter, victimization, solidarity
Notes: Translated for #5 of Return Fire, a U.K.-based green anarchist zine.

Olga Oikonomidou

“Yet Another Fenced World”

Olga is one of the imprisoned members of the Conspiracy of Cells of Fire

(C.C.F.); see Return Fire vol.1 pg41. This was her written contribution

to a ‘Women Against Imprisonment’ event at the Patission 61 & Skaramaga

occupied space in Athens. Also on the topic of the position of women in

armed revolutionary struggle, she spoke in April via video-connection

from prison during the Anarchist Black Cross Festival in Vienna,

Austria, along with other Greek prisoners, and also about the conditions

around them, solidarity across the walls, the topic of claiming actions

(see Clarification on the Attack on the CGT Headquarters & on the Topic

of ‘Anonymous Disassociation’) and membership, and the choice of

breaking out of jail. This last point relates to the fact that, July

8^(th) 2016, the Koridallos prison court convicted all imprisoned C.C.F.

members to an additional 115 years in prison each, with various other

alleged collaborators inside and outside given sentences ranging from 75

years inside to 6-year-suspended-sentences, for a foiled escape plan

(the second by the comrades since their capture, the first ending with

them holding screws hostage with guns in their hands in 2011 but

ultimately failed).

“The attempted prison escape of CCF from our probable graves, confirmed

that the struggle for freedom never stops while it sounded the alarm of

the state apparatus. It made the damage it would inflict to both the

validity and the reliability of the state visible, if it was successful.

So an escape plan, became the occasion for a whole repressive operation

with revenge for the years our tenacious attitude and non-repentance as

its sole purpose. [...] The pursuit of new arrests and raids in homes

resulted in two detentions. Of the mother of Christos and Gerasimos

Tsakalos [C.C.F. prisoners] and the wife of the latter [ed. – democratic

repetition of the practices used by the previous military junta against

the relatives of rebel prisoners, once again; see Who Is It?]. The

criminalization of family relations showed nothing but the clear

vengeful intention of the state. To blackmail and emotionally destroy

those who have hurt the prestige of its structures. [E]ven six months

after, our loved ones, either from within prison or from the restricted

areas they are due to court orders, still give us smiles of patience and

trust, maintaining their own dignity” (letter from Olga, also in

solidarity with Tamara Sol and Natalia Collado; see Return Fire vol.3

pg79/81).

These family targetings led to the C.C.F. members and Aggeliki

Spyropoulou (a fugitive from the escape case, she was arrested at home

of the C.C.F. brothers’ mother) going on hunger strike; they were soon

joined by about a dozen more radical prisoners in Greece who combined

their demands, and then eight solidarious prisoners in Turkey joined in.

After 32 days, the strike finally ended when the leftist Syriza

government’s Minister of Justice signed an amendement to free their

relatives; but still Evi Statiri, the partner of Gerasimos, wasn’t let

out, so she undertook hunger-strike herself (during which there was

arson of the office of the Member of Parliment responsible, as Minister

of Justice, for the initial pre-trial detaining of the relatives) before

release.

Whatever else has been said, comrades of the C.C.F. (and not only) have

consistently showed that struggles don’t end in prison, but another

breach opens from there...

To read the articles referenced above, PDFs of Return Fire and related

publications can be read, downloaded and printed by visiting

returnfire.noblogs.org or emailing returnfire@riseup.net

---

On March 19^(th) [2011] a jeep of EKAM [Greek police anti-terrorist

unit] along with 3 cop cars stop in front of a huge rolling iron door. A

guard asks for the papers. Everything checks out... and the door opens.

As it shuts behind us, yet another fenced world appears before me. It is

the prison of Eleonas at Thebes. I get out of the jeep escorted by two

women of the anti-terrorism squad that, for the last four days, had been

successfully playing the role of my nanny. It took a few minutes of

waiting until they delivered me to my new life-guardians. In those few

minutes, I kept hearing remarks from them, like “it’s nice in here....

such a well-preserved building.” I found it only proper to leave them

with the phrase “if you like it so much, why don’t you come and stay

here?”. Naturally, merely the thought of staying in any prison

institution is scary to a visitor, scary enough to make any person –

even a subhuman – shut their mouth and simply leave.

The women’s prison of Thebes is a newly built progressive monstrosity

with oblong branching corridors, cameras covering every angle with no

blind spots, with male and female guards, automatic doors with iron bars

every 10 meters, empty concrete courtyards smaller than a basketball

court, surrounded by walls that end in barbed wire. Outside these walls

there are security areas up until the external wall that separates you

from freedom. There are guards in small raised kiosques that supervise

the place almost 24/7, in case someone finds a hole to escape.

A small fenced zoo is located between the outer door and the main

entrance of the prison. There is neither access to nor visual contact

with anyone but visitors, prisoners cleaning, and while on your way to

the warden’s office. They figured the scenery looks more natural with

imprisoned animals next to imprisoned people. After all, democracy

usually “decorates” its little monsters. After three weeks of

adjustment, I am now permanently[1] on C wing, at a ward with a 14

people capacity. I would say that the forced cohabitation with 12 other

women is not the simplest of things. With zero personal space and all

sorts of vagaries, anyone could easily go beyond their limits. Apart

from 2.5 hours per day that I’m allowed to go out in the yard, the rest

are confined to a 20x30m room. This is the space allowed for one to

move. In this room I drink coffee, I eat, read, write, listen to music,

think. This is the place I’ve spent my life for the last 2.5 months and

will continue to do so, indefinitely more. The walls are painted up to

the ceiling with images of meadows, trees, seas and fish. They tried to

give prison a more humane face. To make prisoners believe that lack of

natural landscape could possibly be replaced with paint. During the

first days of stay, it seemed to me like a bad joke, now it has become

irritating.

The staff act in a similar, contradictory manner. Typical prison guards

trying to pretend that the kind of work they do could be somehow

exonerated. They think that politeness could compensate for the standard

evening and morning count, for the insensitivity and indifference they

demonstrate when inmates very frequently self-mutilate in fits, or at

addicts’ outbursts. It is them who are handing out psychiatric drugs

generously to avoid troubles, while depon (paracetamol) seems to be the

drug for any other illness. It is them, who – depending on the command –

will not hesitate one bit to lead you to isolation, who will conduct a

humiliating strip search, who have the audacity to get a ‘free peek’ at

your letters. It is them who will lock the door on their way out when it

reaches 9pm, as easily as they wish you goodnight. Hypocrisy at its

best. In here, wishing does not seem appropriate. There is no good night

or good day in prison. There is only day and night.

The logic of sovereignty dictates a certain segregation of people

according to seemingly fragmentary features. Thus, it creates ostensible

communities resulting in the reinforcement of inequality and

competition. The morality of society responds to this calling not just

by reciprocating this logic, but most of the times by becoming its

biggest supporter. Social class, ethnicity, gender are just some of the

examples that shape perceptions and attitudes daily. Prison is a crucial

part of the system and the inmate community is a compact, small-scale

representation of society. So it’s only natural that the symptoms of the

sick world we live in, are transferred behind the walls as well. On one

hand, prison somehow collectivises the inmates forcing them to identify

themselves within a common identity negatively marked by their penalty.

At the same time, segregation appears in all its magnitude when men and

women are chucked into different hellholes. Men and women will be

proportionally segregated once more in protection wards, drug addict

wards, gypsy wards, under-aged wards, mothers wards, insubordinate

wards, white [isolation] prison cells. Each one of these categories

requires different treatment depending on the actual interests of the

system. The submissive worms (snitches) and former clappers of the

system (corrupt cops thrown away by the system itself) will be

protected, the mothers will be used to show pretextual humanism, the

addicts will receive degradation and indifference. There are decent

female prisoners experiencing some of these conditions, such as the

treatment of being an addict, who could surely be far more detailed and

descriptive about their experiences.

As an anarchist revolutionary, I believe that gender segregation is an

issue with much social implication, both inside and outside the walls.

It is both an underestimated, and distortedly overestimated issue at

times. I find that for ages, there’s been a well-rooted perception

amongst people as to which attributes and behaviours are suited for men

or women only. The roles and social identities one is attributed at

birth and carries from then on, are gender based. This is the deepest

segregation society has ever abided by. Social norms define women as the

weaker sex, and the social implications in every day life are vast.

Continuous reproduction of such a notion automatically defines a subject

as inferior, presents it as a victim and it ends up being treated as

protected species. But as in any relationship, there is he who transmits

and he who receives/accepts. The female gender in its vast majority

accepts its social identity and is lead to the logic of victimisation,

either to renounce responsibilities, or to rest on its laurels,

justifying its inertia, since “demands” are automatically brought down.

A victimised perception of any issue, leads to defeatism and

non-utilisation of one’s ability and capability. The power and

responsibility of an individual on both a personal and collective level,

is what promotes liberating moments, conditions, or actions. Speaking

for myself, I have never thought of myself as the weaker sex, and I

never wanted to be passive. I released myself from the guilt syndrome

society imposes on you, and I’ve always walked my way according to my

personal values and will. On my path, I’ve come across stares that were

still trapped deep inside gender stereotypes, many times. In my opinion,

even within the anarchist milieu there is great prejudice lurking on

behalf of men, and complacency or even gender role exploitation on

behalf of women. In my eyes, I can’t think of a rebel who will not fight

for the abolition of social roles. Primarily for oneself on a personal

level, and secondarily for others, at a global level. It is both a

process of introspection, as well as basic denial of the ways of this

world. Since nothing in this life is granted to you, you have to earn it

yourself. The bottom line is, how well can a woman overcome the residue

imposed on her by society, and act freely and no longer be confined in

it. It’s only then that the roles are broken, and finally abolished

through active attitude.

I chose to be active in a world of passiveness. I chose active

participation in a revolutionary organisation. I did not follow anybody

and I was not carried away by anything. I chose. I was present at the

conversations, decisions, actions, as I am now present to pay the price.

I claimed responsibility for my actions while I could of taken advantage

of my gender status to get a more favourable treatment. But how decent

would that be? Throughout history, a woman involved in revolutionary

ventures, practically breaks two roles. On one hand, she consciously

abolishes her identity as a law-abiding citizen questioning law and

order, while on the other, her identity as a woman, overcoming the

standardised perception of gender roles (mother, wife, chick) that

society itself has imposed on her.

During the ‘70s when the revolutionary organization RAF [ed. – Red Army

Faction, authoritarian Marxist-Leninists] was active and had a number of

women participating in it, German authorities [operating against

subversives] would command to “shoot the women first”. The very fact of

essentially overcoming two roles, made women more determined, more

conscious, thus more dangerous in comparison to men, and their

gender-based compatibility to delinquency (always according to the

state-official-scientific approach), who were pursuing a more natural

path.

Every era though, has its own characteristics and conditions. The

anti-authoritarian movement often searches within the outlaw milieu for

a revolutionary subject, assuming that questioning the law through one

or more illegal acts also involves the questioning of the extant system.

Mutatis mutandis,[2] it also assumes that a woman that questions the

law, questions her social role as well, even unconsciously. As a matter

of fact, real life in women’s prisons, and specifically in the prison of

Eleonas of Thebes, it can be ascertained that the modern-day

petty-bourgeois behaviour of social roles has been transferred behind

the walls as well. The illegal act that occurred was nothing but a

momentum. Characteristically enough, the majority of women don’t talk of

the “crime” they committed, but of the crime a man urged them to commit.

Which actually means they don’t even find a part of themselves in the

illegal act that brought them to prison in the first place, thus

reproducing the logic of victimisation. The role of the mother was able

to stand aside for them to break the law, but as they experience the

condition of confinement, the identity of the mother-protector is

quickly brought back into play. They feel that it might just be their

only salvation to get away, or their curse since they are forced to live

apart from their children. Many times, this role will become a guide for

some of the behaviours they will have to put up with in prison, it will

become their fear and tolerance. The extortive penal system will step on

this weakness, and ask for exchanges of any kind, prioritizing on

submissiveness to prison rules, and reports about other prisoners. At

the same time, it will cater to humiliate them in many ways, making them

bear much more than their own body search, but that of their children as

well, who are often of young age, if the prisoner wishes to see them in

open visitation [ed. – i.e. not behind glass]. In front of this

aggressive actual condition, along with their own inability to overcome

social identity, they channel their vigor into dealing with inside

prison survival, simulating it with the lives they ran outside prison.

Frequent visits to the hairdresser, exchange-selling of clothes,

make-up.

In the old days, desperate outlaws mainly comprised inmate population.

People who had absolutely no hope to see any kind of change to their

actual realities, banned from consumption, marginalized by society. Α

forced no-way-out placement at the lower social scale generates rage,

which is a necessary condition for the birth of any liberating attempt.

Besides, rage by itself is not political or apolitical. It all depends

on which way it’s going to want (or actually manage) to be expressed.

This rage seems to be missing nowadays, right here and now. On the

contrary, here and now seems to be dominated by resignation. While the

majority of women are foreigners and do not even know of the events that

took place on “September 3^(rd)” street[3] or what followed them, they

create a large gap between mere survival and wise insurrectionary

behaviour. From a subjective standpoint, having the awareness of the

actual external condition and the actual concerns, these women still

find themselves at significant confusion.

The prison population does not consist of desperate people (setting

aside the addicts who due to their addiction on one hand, and the

insidious manipulation and repression through psychoactive drugs on the

other, have limited capabilities). Nowadays, financial crime runs

women’s prison, along with large amounts of drug trafficking. No one is

in any way excluded from consumption, fact which by itself alienates

rage, and in conjunction with social identities, in the end it enables

women to remain victims of their own illusions. This notion of course is

not unanimous. There are still, and always will be, some who hold their

dignity and head up high. In their minds, the word “staff”, as they now

want to be called, will always mean “guards/torturers of human beings”

and their uniform will always be a target. Solidarity to prisoners never

loses its meaning, as well. Not by defending the prisoner role, but by

opposing to confinement itself. To the condition that deprives us of the

most precious thing we have, physical freedom, which in itself is

associated with bone-crushing restrictions of many kinds. From the

disruption of sexual relations to the humiliating dependence on prison

machinery for communication. Within this context, you find particular

delight in small pleasures that break away from this repressive machine.

Solidarity should remain alive and kicking, supporting the movement of

prisoners, unscathed and alert in cases involving political prisoners.

In my opinion, solidarity rallies should not be confined to specific

ritual dates, as is New Year’s for instance, but should keep their

reflexes sharp so they can transmute into leverage when correctional

whims go out of their way to test prisoners. Solidarity should serve as

a tool to give prominence to anarchist prisoners’ cases, not

person-focused, not based on personal relations, not by guilt-innocence

criteria. Besides, no one in this world is innocent, we are all guilty.

Some for their consciousness and action against anything that oppresses

them, and yet others for their tolerance towards repressive

institutions.

I send out my revolutionary regards to those who tenaciously choose to

act against the stubborness of our times.

[1] ed. – Transferred out after beating a snitch moved onto her ward;

see latest address at the end of this article.

[2] ed. – Medieval Latin phrase meaning “the necessary changes having

been made”.

[3] transl. – It refers to the fascist pogrom [ed. – against migrants]

unleashed with the active participation of police force after the murder

of Manolis Kantaris in May 2011 [ed. – stabbed to death during a

robbery].