“When we stand up to these authorities, they come down on us, and the only protection we have is solidarity from the outside.” – Free Alabama Movement and The International Workers of the World (IWW) Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee (IWOC)
Today may be the largest national prisoner strike in years, and anarchists, prison abolitionists, and prison reform advocates are watching to see how events will play out behind the walls of prisons and detention centers in Arizona and across the country. Whereas prison abolitionists and prison reform advocates may be more interested in supporting reforms and legislation to affect what goes on behind the walls, anarchists are taking their relationships and solidarity with those behind bars and putting them into action in the streets and outside of the prison walls.
Given that for many years, Arizona has accumulated a reputation for the harsh and inhumane conditions behind the barred doors and razor fences (including well known incidents in Maricopa County’s “Tent City” and other county lock ups, state run prisons, privately operated state prisons, privately run immigration detention centers, and Border Patrol holding stations) it’s worth excavating the history of resistance and revolt behind the detention center walls and prison fences. Inmates have fought, bled, and died to reclaim their humanity in the face of neglect, brutality, and the paternalistic claims behind prison reform.
In 1958, inmates rioted at the Arizona State Prison, then located solely in Florence, Arizona, and built by the inmates it was intended to hold. These weren’t the first riots at the Arizona State Prison, the facility was overcrowded within its first two decades, and inmates were held in rundown buildings with ongoing health hazards from sewage and sanitation. Riots and strikes by inmates were common, which was why Pima County Sheriff Frank Eyman was called in to suppress a 1955 prison riot. Eyman was known for his part in the capture of notorious bank robber John Dillinger in Tucson in 1934, he also founded the Tucson Fraternal Order of Police, the first FOP in the state of Arizona. After putting down the riot he was hired on as warden of the Arizona State Prison, an over capacity facility, housing over 1,000 inmates.
The Arizona state legislature was unwilling to invest funds into the infrastructure for the ballooning prison system, and many improvements to the prison infrastructure were designed and constructed by inmate labor although Eyman feared that sabotage and vandalism by these same inmates would increase as a form of resistance to major expansions to the prison.
In an era when many prison systems were attempting “scientific” therapeutic programs aimed at inmates, Eyman instituted a classical authoritarian structure in which he ruled the prison, the guards were his enforcers, and inmates were subject to all forms of punishment for violating his “Inmate Rule Book” which was given to every inmate at the prison upon arrival. Inmates were expected to be “well groomed, upright in posture, respectful when speaking to staff, and engaged in wholesome activities, rather than ‘lounging against a wall or lying around in the grass’.”
The situation was even worse for the incarcerated mentally ill, or who as Eyman referred to as “moral perverts.” Until the late 1960s, the facility had no employed or contracted mental health professionals such as a psychiatrist or psychologist. Eyman viewed inmates with mental health problems as an “aberrational subgroup,” placing them under constant surveillance and housed in segregated lock down.
In 1958, inmates attempted a mass breakout and subsequent uprising, resulting in four guards being taken hostage by inmates. Eyman arrived on scene, fired his gun and announced to the inmates that he would kill all of them “if you SOBs even so much as scratch my men.” The inmates held their resolve and prison guards launched an attack on the prison, leading to a gun battle with inmates, and ending the uprising. No guards were injured, though one inmate was seriously injured.
All inmates were returned to their cells, Eyman saw that the doors to the cells be welded shut (many inmates destroyed the locks to their cell doors), and that inmates be stripped naked, leaving them nothing but a blanket. This went on for several days , Eyman justified his actions to the press stating that inmates have no rights in his institutions, and they “had to learn to behave.”
In 1973, Arizona governor Jack Williams pointed to the uprisings in Attica and San Quentin as examples of what can happen when prison administrators treat the incarcerated with a shread of humanity. Williams wrote to Allen Cook, the head of Arizona’s Department of Corrections, “I hope you have assured Frank Eyman that in Arizona the prisoners do not run the prison! Furthermore, that just as they gave no chance for negotiation with their victims they have no right to negotiation as long as they are in prison. They earned their way to prison now let them earn their way out!”
For Cook’s part, he had previously worked in the California Department of Corrections for 27 years before retiring to Sun City and getting hired to head Arizona’s DOC. Cook was heavy handed from the beginning, he enforced a strict search policy of all visitors, which he suspected a court order could overturn, and bragged that inmate mail was regularly censored by prison authorities.He shared Williams’ contempt for inmates in his statements to the press after the 1971 San Quentin mass escape attempt which resulted in the death of black revolutionary George Jackson along with five other inmates.
Anti-inmate attitudes of prison bureaucrats and lack of funding from state politicians sent inmates at the state prison in Florence on strike in May 1972. Nearly 1,000 inmates out of the prison’s population of 1,277 went on strike, refusing work assignments until the inmates’ 13 grievances and demands were met by the prison administration. At the time of the strike, Arizona State Prison population was 56% white, 21% black, 20% Mexican and Latino, and 3% Indigenous people, making the strike an overwhelmingly cross-racial stance against exploitation in Florence.
The inmates’ action on the inside was met with support from outside of the prison walls, a Tucson based group called the Arizona Citizens’ Commission on Prisons was holding hearings in which former inmates could share their experiences inside of the prison, in addition to the group’s political organizing for reforms at Florence.
In an article on the hearings published on July 17, 1972 in the Tucson Daily Citizen, testimony from former prisoners covered a range of exploitative practices enforced by prison authorities. One former inmate who worked in the medical unit testified that Florence’s hospital was “deplorable,” as some prisoners waited up to 10 days before receiving medical care. The inmate testified that the prison’s chief physician Dr. Robert I. Carlson only came to work for three to four hours per day, and “even when he is there he prefers to let the inmates do the medical work while he sticks to the administrative paper work.” A former female inmate from Florence described the racial hierarchy at the prison codified into the jobs available to women of color. White women inmates were offered office work, while Black and Mexican-American women were only offered “dirty jobs” within the prison.
One week into the 1972 strike at Florence and Warden Eyman insisted that efforts at prison reform were misguided, what was needed was inmate reform to stop the flow of what he called “anti-social, militant, drug-oriented problem prisoners.” And this was Eyman’s generous take on inmate self-organization. Eyman took a harder line towards the strike when speaking to the press in the second week of the strike, threatening to “make Attica look like a picnic.”
By 1973, Eyman was no longer the warden of Florence, but many of the problems persisted, including overcrowding. In May 1973, a group of inmates took guards hostage to get various demands met, including for one inmate to speak to his children, and two weeks later a second group of inmates took guards hostage, one of the guards died. The new warden of Florence, A.E. “Bud” Gomes met with a delegation of inmates to discuss general prisoner demands.
The inmates of Florence again called for a strike at the prison in January 1976, presenting the prison administration with a 35 point list of demands, including a federal investigation of abuse by guards who see themselves as “above the touch of law,” and a primary demand that Arizona State Corrections Director John Moran, Arizona State Prison Warden Harold Cardwell, and many other upper tier bureaucrats resign immediately.
Medical conditions had only worsened at the prison since the strike in 1972, as confirmed by State Senator Lucy Davidson in an interview with the New Times, she called the conditions “horrendous, deplorable neglect.” Some cell blocks go as long as two weeks with no access to showers, and broken toilets and showers take as long as a month for repair. Mail confiscation, misuse of prison funds for inmate programs, harsh punishment, a code of conduct for guards to match the one inmates meet, repairs for the sewage system, and fair medical treatment were also included in the demands.
Prison administrators dismissed the inmates concerns, but New Times sources in the prison reported that the brutality from guards extended to tear gassing inmates in locked cells and using high powered hoses to attack to reprimand inmates. Prison authorities used repression and isolation to break the strike, causing two previous attempts to be disrupted after inmate strike organizers were thrown into isolation and guards confiscated grievance lists, other strike leaders were scheduled for transfer out of state to New Jersey, Colorado, and New Mexico prisons.
Like the rest of the United States, the Arizona prison population exploded since the prison strike of 1976, as the state’s number of prisons has grown from two to sixteen in 40 years, with six of the facilities run by private corporations. Riots and disturbances continue in the Arizona State Prison system, in both those run by the state and by private companies. On July 2nd and 4th, 2015, inmates at Arizona State Prison – Kingman, privately run at the time by Management and Training Corporation, caused $1.9 million in damage to the prison. The damage so extensive that the unit was closed for six months for repairs and security upgrades, in addition four inmates and nine guards were injured.
The rebellion ended after the state sent in 96 members of the Department of Corrections’ Tactical Support Unit, but only a small number of inmates were charged for their participation because of the quick destruction of surveillance cameras. In the aftermath of the uprising inmates cited abuse from guards, lack of access to adequate medical care, old or inedible food, and a lack of meaningful social and educational programs for inmates, demands nearly identical to those of the inmate strikes of 1972 and 1976.
This short and incomplete history of inmate strikes in Arizona is a reminder of the force of collective revolt and individual action. Certainly the same conditions prevail in lockups around the state, as they did in the 1970s, inmates continue to face the harshest of oppression as both captives of the state and as workers under capitalist exploitation, making pennies a day.
As anarchists, we stand against systems of control, and with the prison rebels opting out of work, engaged in sabotage, or any other of the myriad forms of resistance for freedom that may never be known beyond prison walls or cell doors.<
Solidarity to the prison rebels! Fire to the prisons!
-A dispatch from a valley anarchist.
from It’s Going Down
Over 1,000 people took to the streets of Phoenix on a hot Friday night to protest numerous issues associated with the police in the wake of the killings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. While the march took to the streets, it was largely self-policing, aside from a notable confrontation with a Trump supporter who had to be escorted from the rally by police after he was knocked to the ground.
The mood of the march changed after a group of armed militia, who had shadowed the march, began to run ahead of the march, at one point cutting through the front of the march. The crowd gave chase to the militia but was stopped when officers in riot gear were driven into the fray to help the camouflage wearing militia men escape, providing marchers with the first look at the plans the Phoenix PD had in place for those who stepped out of line. I yelled at the militiamen as they had ran by, and then complained about the armed group aloud, three older women were walking next to me, one said that they all had wanted to bring firearms to the demonstration, but the march organizers had insisted that attendees leave all weapons at home.
While much has been made locally since the march as to whether a march
organizer tricked the crowd to march towards the I-10 on ramp, I overheard a number of people in the crowd (mostly younger people) call for the freeway to be taken. Some of these same voices were also denouncing the march leadership.
Once the march turned onto 7th St. to head north to the freeway, a large presence of police were visible, creating a skirmish line across 7th St. and Fillmore. While some of the march organizers’ people tried to divert marchers from a head on confrontation with police by turning the march onto Fillmore, many younger people surged forward to the shields of riot police. Water bottles flew through the air at police, some of those in conflict removed their shirts and used them to conceal their identities as the Phoenix PD’s mobile surveillance unit “Freedom on the Move” sat parked well behind the police line with a raised camera high over the crowd to record the coming conflict.
The cops sprayed the crowd with pepper spray, causing hundreds of people to turn and run from the skirmish line. As many laid in the street, some screaming, as they dealt with the effects of the spray, others were being lifted off of the crowd, or helped from the ground as they had been trampled by the crowd in retreat. Soon water bottles gave way to rocks, and the Phoenix PD declared the march to be an illegal assembly. March organizers scrambled to move the crowd away from the police line as the conflict intensified, and the pleas to stop the confrontations with police fell on many deaf ears.
As the march finally moved away from the police line, much smaller than when it had first arrived as the police dispensed liberal amounts of pepper spray, it appeared that the march organizers had succeeded in diverting the crowd back to the core of the downtown Phoenix area. A group of people towards the front of the march broke away and pulled the rest of the march with them down a side street, an attempt to bypass the police line and make it to the freeway.
I could see police running up 7th St. and police vehicles making hasty u-turns to assemble a skirmish line at 7th St. and Roosevelt, the crowd ran too. Some were picking up rocks from dirt lots, others snapchatting and calling friends to tell them what was going down in Phoenix, and other stood in the way of police vehicles that had yet to make it north of Roosevelt. While there were only three arrests Friday night, there were dozens of people who unleashed rocks on the reassembled line of riot police blocking the street north of Roosevelt, while a police helicopter flying overhead made periodic announcements regarding the order to disperse. More people arrived, some jumped out of cars, maybe after a phone call from a friend or after watching the fights on the news, many grabbed the biggest rocks they could find to heave at police lines.
The police responded with tear gas, pepper balls, and more tear gas. Some of the tear gas was thrown back, but the amount of chemical weapons deployed had the desired effect of breaking up what was left of the crowd.
I arrived late to the march with pretty low standards, considering the reputation of the march organizer, and the warnings put forth by both the Mayor and Chief of Police to cancel the demonstration in the wake of the Dallas shootings. I didn’t hear anyone say a word about Dallas that night, a night that saw the largest confrontation with the Phoenix PD since the anti-Nazi rebellion against the National Socialist Movement in November 2010. The last time there were anti-police violence demonstrations of this size was in December 2014, just days before the bullets of an assassin targeting NY cops caused many to retreat from their agitation against the agents of the state.
Unlike the December 2014 demonstration, this was considerably less white, perhaps an effect of the Dallas shootings, as the march was overwhelmingly black and brown, minus the consistently conservative input from white allies and activists.
Finally, the media, the march organizer, and the police did their best at minimizing the scale of the hostilities towards police, reducing it to the actions of the three people arrested on Friday night. The police touted the low number of arrests as an example of the department’s close ties to “the community,” while the protest organizers slandered the arrested on TV the next day. For my perspective, what happened on Friday was significant because those fighting the police refused the leadership of clergy and politician, the authority of the state, and the expectation to self-police in the midst of an unfolding national crisis. Phoenix is a poor town, second only to Detroit for the level of poverty, this poverty is shared unequally among the indigenous, black, brown, and white residents of this doomed metropolis on these occupied Akimel O’odham land.
A social explosion is long overdue.
from Life-Long Wobbly
[I’m honored to host this obituary for FW Bill Krist, written by J. Pierce, et al. I feel fortunate to have been able to meet Bill shortly before he passed, and agree with J. Pierce that he provides a great example of what it means to be a “Lifelong Wobbly.” A shorter version of this obituary is being printed in the Industrial Worker.]
In June of 2015, the Phoenix IWW and many others mourned the loss and celebrated the life of William Krist, Bill Krist, Krazy Bill, KB. He was a friend, mentor, and grand-fatherly figure to many of us.
KB was the old man of the IWW in Arizona. Having been signed up by Aaron in 2000, KB was the only continuous, paid-up IWW member in Phoenix from 2000 until his death in 2015. He would pay his dues in January for the whole year, every year, and wore an IWW Centenary button or member pin on his hat every day. KB was a model member in many ways: unwavering loyalty to the organization and our historic mission, and always a positive influence.
For 15 years, KB would come to Branch meetings and offer what he could to the projects the IWW was working on. From organizing grocery workers at Gentle Strength co-op, to supporting the Roofers Union’s organizing efforts in the exclusive suburbs; from distributing Worker’s Rights Cards, to supporting immigrant workers against racist attacks by the terrorist leaders of “Dumbfuckistan” – KB was there. Bill would often thank us personally for the work we did for the union. Later on as his health deteriorated, he couldn’t march and picket like he wanted, but he would come and sit in his car or drive his electric scooter if he felt up for it.
Krazy Bill felt a visceral connection to Arizona’s centuries old class struggle – the harvest hands, miners, and laundresses vs. the trusts, the bankers, and the sheriffs. He especially identified with the 2,000 mostly Mexican and immigrant miners who were rounded up at gun point and deported from the Arizona mining towns of Bisbee and Jerome in 1917. This historic attack on the IWW and the working class was a focal point for KB’s radical education of younger fellow workers, as he took us down to Bisbee to commune with history at FW James Brew’s grave.
KB grew up in Phoenix, a dusty little town as he remembered it in the 50s and 60s. His parents owned the Krist Café, which he often referenced in his many tall tales of the early days of the Valley. He spent most of his working life in toxic waste water treatment in Phoenix but evidently worked as a factory worker in Cleveland, Ohio when he was younger. The plant that KB retired from at 52, originally Garrett Turbine Engine Company, is one of half a dozen companies near Sky Harbor airport, including Motorola and Honeywell, responsible for several toxic EPA National Priority List Superfund sites that are decades in the lawsuits and clean up.
Apart from his life as a working stiff, Bill enjoyed camping and hunting in the desert. At 18, KB went to gold pan in the Superstition Mountains, working a small gold mine by himself. He later told a few of us, “That’s when I lost all contact with civilization.” This is from where Bill traced his non-conformity with conventions of cleanliness and tidiness, which as Bill got older, was the source of many problems, not the least of which was livable housing.
KB flouted the expectations of the ‘bourgeois fucks’ and their society in many ways, especially with his “unique, radical, and often politically-incorrect sense of humor” as Charles referred to it. At the memorial, Dean reminded us of KB’s views on cigarettes: “Smoke ‘em if ya gotta ‘em! If ya don’t got any, I’ll lend ya some. If you’re pregnant, better get another one, ‘cause you’re smoking for two.” Bill claimed to own “dozens” of guns, and his neighbor shared a story about how KB enjoyed watering his lawn and his award-winning vegetable garden with a loaded pistol drooping from the pocket of his gym shorts. Evidently he did shoot his foot one of those times and then drove himself to the hospital, likely in one of his huge 1970s hoopties. As for his love of burgers, Stacy remembered KB’s amorous advocacy of eating flesh while often providing vegan treats so as to include everyone.
Although having married 3 or 4 times, KB’s destiny as a ‘ladies man’ never did materialize the way he might have liked. Yet his admiration for women, both as a feminist and as a romantic, was evident to all. As confidant to lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, man, woman, and everything outside and in-between, KB offered relationship advice when he thought it useful, but mainly his humble reflections. Looking back on what might have gone wrong with his past loves, he concluded simply, “The only thing they had in common was me.”
One of Bill’s two sons, Josh (the other one being Jesse), reported in the memorial program, Bill “was charged with Conspiracy to Overthrow the U.S. Government by Violent Means in 1976, an experience that made him realize that those who have power often abuse it. He was distressed that his beloved, sleepy hometown had been taken over by remorseless developers and suspect politicians. He spent his retirement as an activist, and was a regular participant and organizer of protests against injustice.”
Factory work gave KB his life-long class struggle intensity and along the way he pledged his fidelity to anarchism. He insisted that the Phoenix GMB does and always shall run on consensus: “it’s in the charter.” He was one of the anchors of the Phoenix Anarchist Coalition (PAC), which functioned as a beehive for uncompromising political resistance to the growing neo-fascism in Arizona. The IWW functioned as the “class struggle” pie slice in PAC with Earth First!, Food Not Bombs, Cop Watch, and others who shared mutual members.
Although he was a spirited feminist and an astute economic and scientific thinker, KB didn’t go in for jargon and posturing. His most effective weapon for making the world a better place was his smile. Fara and Jakobe noted KB’s welcoming presence and its effect on all of us, saying, “There was no one who didn’t like KB. He was involved in so many groups and friends with so many activists, yet he never talked shit… But he did love the latest gossip.” His friendliness toward everyone – activists, neighbors, restaurant and grocery store workers, passers-by while picketing – and his skill at building unity in the movement is something that the Left could take a lesson from, Fara said.
Bill Krist was one of a kind and will be remembered in many ways. Elizabeth said she is going to miss lunch dates with KB at his numerous (secret) cheap and delicious restaurants. Charles reminded us of Joe Hill’s admonition: “Don’t mourn, organize!” and will undoubtedly think of KB every time he blows his nose on the American flag snot rag that KB bequeathed to him. Aaron, Matt, and I all wrote poems of a sort, separately, in tribute to KB’s “generous heart, keen intellect, libertine spirit, and free-range feet,” as Aaron put it. And his son Josh noted that one of KB’s “few regrets would be dying before Arpaio was in DOJ custody.”
Although he might laugh, scoff, or curse at the idea of being canonized “Saint KB” or knighted “Sir William Krist” (and surely he’s reading his copy of the Industrial Winged-Atheist, livid that I’m the one who wrote his obituary), we’d all be content if KB found his place in some Anarchist Hall of Fame somewhere. But I suppose he’ll have to be satisfied with the honorific title: Fellow Worker Bill.
from Anarchist News
This May Day night, two groups of anarchists in Tucson attacked law enforcement targets in solidarity with the ongoing rebellions against police throughout the country. First, the office of the Combined Law Enforcement Association of Arizona, a statewide association of police unions, had a number of its windows smashed out. Later, the office of the Tucson Border Patrol Local Union also lost a number of windows and was redecorated with no borders slogans.
Border Patrol was targeted for their role in the ongoing occupation of indigenous lands, their contribution to countless deaths and untold suffering in the desert south of Tucson and elsewhere, and constantly increasing militarization of border communities across the borderlands. Borders cannot be reformed, they must be abolished.
The police union was targeted for being a police union. We aim for the abolition of the police and take particular umbrage with the notion that cops are workers. The central role of the police is control of working people and the maintenance of white supremacy. We also find value in targeting representatives of the Tucson Police Department since the chief is now part of a federal task force on improving relations between police and the populations they try to manage. Villasenor is adept at pushing a “community policing” agenda as part of a counterinsurgency strategy to better control potentially rebellious populations and incorporate the official Left into this system of domination. This insidious strategy is more difficult to counter than the overt brutality of say, Joe Arpaio, but no less violent – the role of all police remains the same.
In this moment, as fierce revolts against the police and white supremacy are spreading across the country, it is impossible to assert that “not all cops are bad” or that they’re “part of the 99%.” Those who suggest these things, or that the police can be reformed, are not naive or misguided – they have chosen a side. They’ve sided with white supremacy, with state violence, with capital, with order. Considering this, our actions are intended to push for more and broader struggle for the absolute abolition of the police and nothing less.
For the rebels in Baltimore, Iguala, Ferguson and everywhere.
For everyone they’ve taken from us, whether by murder, deportation, or incarceration.
For open revolt against the police and against borders.
from Down and Drought
A group of law enforcement officers who coordinated the crackdown on Occupy Phoenix, and regularly monitor the pages of activists through internet surveillance, are scheduled speakers at next week’s “Social Media the Internet and Law Enforcement” (SMILE) three day conference. The Phoenix Police Department are the host agency for this year’s conference, Detective CJ Wren and Terrorism Liaison Officer (TLO) All Hazards Analyst Brenda Dowhan will be representing Phoenix, Detective Chris Adamczyk, a TLO from Mesa Police Department will also be presenting.
What they will be presenting on, should be of interest to anyone concerned with the powers given to police agencies to spy and collect information on individuals and groups engaged in political activity. While the justification has been provided that these departments are concerned with anarchists and “criminal activists,” much of the documentation surrounding Occupy Phoenix revealed that these individuals and their respective police organizations (Phoenix PD and Mesa PD coordinating with other departments through the Arizona Counter Terrorism Information Center (ACTIC)) were using secretive technologies to identify individuals who merely criticized department policy.
Journalist Beau Hodai obtained thousands of pages of documents from various law enforcement agencies on the varied multi-agency responses to Occupy Phoenix, and related events. What Hodai learned was that the counter-terrorism infrastructure established in Arizona, through the ACTIC fusion center, worked closely with corporate partners to pass information along information on protests being organized against them.
We made good use of the Hodai’s source materials, which were generously posted online, to write a series of stories that Hodai had not covered, including the revelations that a co-owner of Changing Hands Books was passing information about Occupy Phoenix along to the Phoenix PD. Another unsettling story we covered was on the Facial Recognition Unit within ACTIC that was using a facial recognition software to scan the state’s drivers license database to identify participants in protests, using photos found on social media. Given that most of the information regarding the activities of ACTIC, and the TLOs involved in targeting Occupy Phoenix, is approaching four years old, the upcoming SMILE conference affords us the opportunity to shine a light on these digital spies. Here are some highlights from the conference agenda:
TLO All Hazards Analyst Brenda Dowhan is giving a presentation on Using Social Media for Event Planning and Real-time Monitoring, in her event description Dowhan advocates for “pro-active policing,” citing an anti-police protest as an event which “could impact public safety and the community.” Given what we know from Dowhan’s history with the Occupy protests, anarchist events, and marches affiliated with indigenous causes, her objective is not to merely pass along information to other regional TLOs about a possible protest or activist gathering, but to coordinate disruption. Hodai noted in his “Dissent or Terror” article that after Tempe Homeland Defense Unit Detective Derek Pittam wrote of a guerrilla gardening event successfully disrupted by Tempe police, Dowhan responded with “Good to hear. Every site I’ve been on, they know that we are watching them.”
Dowhan was often aided by Mesa Detective Chris Adamczyk, a TLO and self-described expert in “subversive organizations.” Adamczyk will also be presenting to other officers on the topic of Unmask the Movement: Using social media to assess the risks of subversive organizations. In his description, Adamczyk laughably describes the “dark side of social media,” the world of street gangs, syndicates, criminal activists, and terror organizations. In addition to his obsessing over the Facebook page of Food Not Bombs, Adamczyk has launched a private enterprise to share his unique skill set. His website and smartphone app, called the Protestus Project, claims to be”making sense of the world of activism,” but for who? The site is updated infrequently, and appears to rely of the same open source information that Adamczyk receives on the daily from his position as a TLO at the Mesa Police Department. The website and app are uneven in what information is shared, for example the website documents an activist group involved in recent anti-police protests and provides analysis of the local Black Lives Matter/Rumain Brisbon protests, while the app appears to be an alphabetized threat assessment of local activist groups. It’s unclear if Detective Adamczyk writes all content for the website or app.
Perhaps nothing is more humorous than the presentation given by Detective CJ Wren on Stalking 2.0 ~ Stalking in the Social Media Era, which is apparently about a man who found 30 social media pages belonging to the police and saved the info to disk, and why police officers should lock down their social media profiles. Detective Wren is the Arizona Chapter President at Association of Threat Assessment Professionals, and Law Enforcement President of the Arizona Terrorism Liaison Association. Despite Detective Wren’s counter-terrorism expertise and his online privacy tips for law enforcement, a simple Google search reveals that Wren himself has a revealing social media footprint. Perhaps he should consider using his own online activities as a case study! This is all the more laughable considering his employment (along with Dowhan and Adamczyk) relies on him stalking radicals, anarchists, indigenous activists, and immigrant rights groups on their respective social media pages and storing the information forever through a joint partnership with the Federal government.
Detective Wren would like to have it both ways; an open internet for for Wren, Dowhan, and Adamczyk to prowl, collecting “open source intelligence” to share with their TLO partners and the FBI through ACTIC; and, under the justification of officer safety, a closed internet to protect the identities, actions, and opinions of police officers, shielding them from criticism. These agents of the law are speaking at SMILE because they are skilled in the use of surveillance, disruption, and repression to halt protests and groups opposed to the actions of government and business.
Creepy name aside, networking hubs such as SMILE, the ACTIC fusion center, and the activities of the anti-protest “Red Squad” counter-terrorism departments must be dragged out into the light. The increasing efforts of local police departments to spy on and disrupt the efforts of activist groups and political protest goes hand in hand with the riot police using military equipment to intimidate and control people when they sign off from the internet and take to the streets.
from Phoenix May Day
This May Day we call for antagonists of the global work machine to gather in Phoenix to march on the headquarters of the Arizona Department of Transportation (ADOT). ADOT is the transportation bureaucracy behind the 30 year push for an extension to the Loop 202, which would destroy the western ridges of South Mountain and extend the south end of the Loop 202 from the I-10.
This freeway would not just expand the patchwork of suburbs and strip malls into the desert, it would expand the design of bureaucrats and capitalists to build CANAMEX international trade corridor from Mexico to Canada. The struggle against the NAFTA and TPP trade agreements has been fought here at home in the form of resistance to transportation infrastructure. The South Mountain Loop 202 extension and its role as a truck bypass, as well as ADOT’s projects the Interstate 11/CANAMEX trade corridor, are key pieces of this transportation infrastructure. International trade agreements, their roads, and development are said to boost the economy, which doesn’t benefit us, and at what cost, anyway?
This extension has been long opposed by the indigenous Akimel O’odham residents of the Gila River Indian Community (GRIC), who have opposed any freeway alignment that ADOT proposed. For Akimel O’odham people, South Mountain is a sacred site, and any demolition of the mountain would be a desecration of a holy place. The Akimel O’odham Youth Collective is one group of GRIC residents who have organized against the freeway, in their blog they describe some of the harm that the South Mountain Loop 202 extension would have:
This project has been opposed by members of the Gila River Indian Community since the 1980s. There are numerous harmful impacts of freeway construction which include destroying the prehistoric villages of Villa Buena and Pueblo del Alamo, the destruction of threatened/endangered animal habitats, and the destruction of plants that are central to traditional O’otham culture. Environmental impact studies of the 202 freeway also state that the habitat for wild horses in Gila River would be irreversibly lost if the freeway is built, and that no alternative habitats for the wild horses exist.
Residents to the north of GRIC oppose the freeway as well, as Ahwatukee residents have protested and organized to halt the possibility of a freeway as well. The most prominent project organized against the freeway is Protecting Arizona Resources and Children (PARC). PARC is planning a lawsuit aimed at stopping the freeway extension by taking ADOT and the Federal Highway Administration to court over health and environmental concerns.
Speaking for ourselves, we have chosen May Day to march on ADOT and to denounce the Loop 202 extension, as we oppose the trade routes of global capitalism which move goods and people, hastening the misery of daily life in this work obsessed society. We also march on ADOT because the freeway will destroy the habitats, dirty the air, and lower the quality of life for humans and animal alike.
While May Day has come to be viewed as a workers day against capitalism, but in the roots of May Day is a celebration of humans’ connection to the earth. As Peter Linebaugh recalled in his history of May Day:
In Europe, as in Africa, people honored the woods in many ways…They did this in May, a month named after Maia, the mother of all the gods according to the ancient Greeks, giving birth even to Zeus.
In Greece, Rome, Scotland, Scandinavia, and elsewhere, the people celebrated with music, communal activities, dancing, fires, planting of trees, and erecting of maypoles.
In the spirit of pre-capitalist May Day celebrations of Spring, and the current manifestation of resistance to capitalism, we call on all those who oppose another freeway bringing destruction to the earth, air, and water. As we oppose work, we call on all those opposed to the global work machine, and the freeway’s role in accelerating the delivery of goods and movement of workers along its path.
We also call upon those who believe that inward “decolonization” and “rewilding” is no substitution for anti-colonial action from settlers on stolen land. As stated in Accomplices Not Allies: Abolishing the Ally Industrial Complex: “No matter how liberated you are, if you are still occupying Indigenous lands you are still a colonizer.”
We believe that anti-authoritarians and anarchists engaged in projects around the ecological, anti-infrastructure, or anti-militarization struggles must also articulate their relationship to the indigenous people of this occupied land. To echo the call put forth in Accomplices Not Allies, a struggle against colonialism must attack the colonial structures and ideas. Whether you can join us in Phoenix, or are in other areas of Arizona, we encourage anti-colonial organizing this May Day.
Join us on Friday, May 1st at 10 AM to march on ADOT. We will be gathering at Cesar Chavez park, located between Washington St. and Jefferson St., west of 1st Ave in downtown Phoenix.
-a group of Phoenix Anarchists
from Anarchist News
In the evening on November 10th, anarchists threw paint bombs at the Mexican Consulate in Tucson, AZ, along with stencil graffiti outside the building reading “VENGEANCE FOR LOS NORMALISTAS AND THE 5E3.”
This was a very small demonstration of solidarity with the 5E3 – Carlos, Amélie, and Fallon – three anarchists recently sentenced to over 7 years for insurrectionary attacks in Mexico City last year. More information on the 5E3 case can be found in english at http://en.contrainfo.espiv.net and in spanish at http://es.contrainfo.espiv.net.
This was also done to show support and love for all those struggling in Mexico since the disappearance of 43 students in Guerrero last September. It is meant, too, as a call to those in Tucson that any future solidarity demos or actions should strive to match the ferocity and passion we see in streets throughout Mexico today.
We share the horror and rage at the atrocity carried out by the Mexican state, but we are not shocked. This is what we should expect from any state, which is why we struggle against all states.
Si fue el estado – abolir al estado.
for the abolition of the state,
and in solidarity with Fallon, Amélie, Carlos, and all prisoners,
some Tucson anarchists