ATHENS- POSTER FOR THE REVOLUTIONARY COMRADE LAMBROS FOYNTAS
Dancing in the celebration of war
In the war which is raging you are next to us
… in the hard times you never abandon the city, in the good times you didn’t gain any interests, in the desperate times you didn’t fear anything…
…you gave your battles choosing every mean, you fought with rage and devotion, with self-knowledge and conscience, without fear of death and with faith in life, sometimes like a wolf and other times like a tree you searched the human inside you but also around you and you never aligned yourself but you followed you unique entropy…
… pre-defined for you to be in the orbit of the stars, why, star, do you care about the dark? roll happily beyond this time, may its unhappiness be for you foreign and far away! your shinning belongs to the furthest world, mercy should be for you a sin! only one order counts for you: that you are true…
for the comrade and revolutionary but above all the wonderful Human Lambros Foundas
Translate by Actforfreedomnow!boubourAs with respect and honor!
LAMBROS OUR COMRADE!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The struggle of those who fight against all forms of power, who are anxious that each moment should not be wasted and who stubbornly maintain the belief that we are capable of creating a free and non-authoritarian world, is as distant from any kind of mythology or fiction as the earth is from the moon.
This struggle has had, has and will have countless casualties; dead, captured, and people who desist because they lose hope or compromise themselves because the powers that be have found the low or high price to buy them off.
Those seeking saints, martyrs or messiahs, or heroes and mythical beasts, are ultimately no different from those who do not miss the opportunity to point the finger at the scoundrels, the black sheep, the criminally suspect and those who politically have already lost. Both the superior beings depicted by one side and the extremist creatures from the other are equally expendable. In either case the purpose is to keep everyone sedated and docile, despite what the proponents of either side might claim.
Some ecstatically speak of those 'sacrificed', while the others piously try to measure the political loss. It is of little importance whether this convergence is achieved due to fanaticism or delusion, ignorance or expediency, for reasons of political visibility and survival or practising dogmatism. Those who are supposed to object shout to convince everyone that they have unfinished business with them, but this fraud is difficult to conceal. But so be it. This scenario is true and played to death, but the beaten path is always the most secure. Always? Or maybe it is not?
The following words, and those preceding them, are not the product of an obligation or sense of duty. Nor are they part of any revolutionary obituary. They are far away from and hostile to any attempt to mythologizing, ownership, engaging or disengaging, against the mud slung and the depreciation, which authority is already trying to spread after the disclosure of the identity and photograph of a dead "terrorist" following a gunfight with cops in Daphne. Lambros Fountas, who fell dead in a shootout with the crew of the police squad car in the area of Daphne is known for his anarchist activities.
From his years as a high school student he was socially active and would later join the anarchist group MAVRO AGATHI (Black Thorn), who issued the DROMI TIS ORGIS (Streets of Rage) 'zine/pamphlet/serial. He was active and participated in marches, rallies, social conflicts, demonstrations, flyposting, discussions and social events.
(Streets of Rage) 'THE MAGAZINE
He was one of the thousands of young people not enrolled at the time with any political youth party involved in the student occupations, demonstrations and clashes prior to and after the murder of Professor N. Temponera in Patras. Those young people were inspired by the insurrectional events of January 1991 as well as anarchist ideas and practices that they appropriated with a vitality which words are incapable of describing. The anarchist group Black Thorn, until its dissolution, participated in the Co-operation of Anarchist Groups and Individuals for Social Solidarity and Diverse Action.
During the occupation of the Polytechnical University of Athens in 1995 for the anniversary of the 1973 Uprising, Lambros Fountas was among the 504 who were arrested by the repressive state forces that invaded the university grounds on the morning of November 18th. He was, therefore, among so many young people of a generation that the politically correct were quick to describe as lost. Among all those who chose their partners' hand and travelled the 1990s from protest to protest, from roadblock to roadblock, standing in solidarity with passion in every social aspect, who chose to confront power with their rights and their wrongs, their differences amongst themselves and their stubbornness, confounding the authority that wanted them to simply be passers by in the social struggles. Not that there weren't any such people. Quite the contrary. Since then I have met up with Lambros and been side by side many times in marches, roadblocks and clashes.
We solemnly believe that what the people who fight leave behind them, is what they really contribute and is not superficial to the liberation process from the shackles of oppression and exploitation. This is a legacy that transcends any needs, decisions and choices.
Because the means are not an end in themselves and don't differentiate those fighting, but rather reveal possibilities, they don't sanctify those who choose one or another form, nor do they put anyone on a pedestal. There are no unknown comrades who have been unfairly lost. Nor is the point principally, in these situations, the search for operational errors.
Equally, however, we do not agree with the logic that explanations are the privilege of priests, initiates or those well-educated in internal affairs or with those who deal with cases and craft scenarios all the time, that the answer may begin and end with motto: loss is a necessary evil. Our position must be straightforward and outspoken.
We close, saying goodbye to Lambros with an Indian wish (and certainty):"The next time (we meet) will be better!"
"Anarchist Archive of Athens 11/3/10 complitle translate actforfreedomnow in memory and honor to my friend and comrade lambro.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Athens. Greece. At two thousand kilometres distance. A nearly bankrupted Greek state and an economy that doesn’t function anymore. On the advice of the European Union, the ruling socialist party calls for a series of economic measures and restructurings. The ministers swear it will take “blood, sweat and tears”, but “it’s the only option”. Roads, harbours, airports, borders, factories, railroads, have frequently been blocked since January, blocked by those who know they’re the ones who’ll pay the price. Manifestations follow each other up and not a single politician seems capable of calming down and canalising the protest. Heavy rioting with the riot police frequently occurs and hundreds of destructive acts, arsons and bomb attacks point their destructive energy towards the state structures and the economy, towards all expressions of the authority.
“Blood, sweat and tears”. While the police wades into the demonstrators in an increasingly violent way, at every assembly, breaking the bones and arms of hundreds of people, deadly blood is drawn at the daybreak of the 12th of March 2010. A police patrol catches two anarchist comrades stealing a car. After a gunfight, one comrade manages to escape, while the other one, Lambros Fountas, is deadly injured. Critically wounded, he still tries to escape, but gets caught up by the police and bleeds to death in front of their eyes. Lambros Fountas had the age of 35 and was since years fighting in the struggle against all forms of authority, alone or with a few comrades as well as at the sight of other oppressed and rebels. He was fighting with all weapons he thought useful: with pen and paper, stone and fire, barricades and manifestations, guns and grenades. Revolt was the rhythm of his breath, as it was freedom that made his heart bounce. That is why we will not forget him, even if we might not have known him. That is why his death can only fasten our breathing, gasping for life, clearing a path towards freedom by insurrection.
Mountain massifs and big rivers, extensive plains and the parched earth of ex-Yugoslavia separate us from Greece. But everywhere in Europe and here in Belgium as well, the states sense that something’s up. Do they feel that it might, that it is possible their citizens all of a sudden throw off the yoke of their resignation and stop accepting? Everywhere it is becoming clear that more and more people will get thrown overboard. It’s not a coincidence that the cops are now pulling the trigger over faster and in a more decided way, that a new closed centre is being built and 7 new prisons will be built. They are safeguarding themselves against the possibility of anger.
It could frighten us. Scared of prison, scared of getting beaten up by cops, scared of dying by the bullets of power, scared of loosing the little bit that’s still ours. However, at a certain moment you’ll have to confront the question: living a life on your knees, used and thrown away in function of the economy and control, squashed by social hierarchy, killed by endless waiting rows, the routine of food-work-sleep or? living a life in which your heartbeat of freedom makes you clash against all authority and makes your hands grab to all weapons in order to hit her.
Nothing is granted, everything is possible. The revolt which spreading more and more in Greece used to be almost unimaginable a few years before. Politicians and journalists no longer know which false talks to use in order to deafen her. Because the language of this revolt was not fabricated inside the belly of the state, but in the refusal of being dragged through the mire any longer. Let’s appropriate this language, let’s study her vocabulary and grammar, let’s use it to forge our own dialect.
It’s about time to alter the paralyzing attitude of concentrating too much on the ocean of submission and resignation. To no longer see this reality, this seemingly continuous repetition of always the same, as a horizon, but to look at what’s behind it, at the unforeseen possibilities.
Time to stir up some smouldering fires.
[Text also published in the anarchist bi-weekly journal Hors Service, number 3, 22 march 2010, Belgium]