Crossing the Line (2006)

“The government is going to take care of me until my dying day.”

Crossing the Line is an interesting and ultimately disturbing documentary that examines the desertion of American soldier, James Dresnok to North Korea in 1962. While the main focus is Dresnok, information on the other soldiers who crossed over to North Korea is included in the film.

Director Daniel Gordon had several other Korean-based films (The Game of Their Lives & A State of Mind) under his belt when he managed to get permission to gather information for this remarkable story. Gordon sticks with a ‘hand-off’ approach, and leaves the viewer with Dresnok’s comments, memories and interpretation of events and does not challenge any of Dresnok’s frequently sticky answers. And this of course leaves us with the task of deciphering and interpreting the material while absorbing Dresnok’s sometimes bizarre statements. He doesn’t come off as a likeable character by any means, and his obtuse avoidance of some subjects is unpleasant.

With an abysmal childhood, troubled teenage years, and no prospects or family support, Dresnok enlisted in the U.S. Army on his seventeenth birthday. After a broken marriage, he was stationed in N. Korea, and his desertion was not ideologically based, but seems to have been motivated rather by a desire to leave the army behind. Escaping to N. Korea via a minefield, Dresnok was soon on the end of a megaphone urging fellow American soldiers to join him in the good life in N. Korea.

After a few years in North Korea, Dresnok and three other former U.S soldiers decided they’d had enough and that they’d go to the Soviet embassy and ask for asylum. They were promptly handed back to North Korean authorities, and for the next few years, they were ‘reeducated.’ Dresnok, and his fellow Americans, eventually developed a niche for themselves by making films, and the documentary includes a few cheesy film clips.

The results of Dresnok’s ‘reeducation’ are visible on camera; he has nothing bad to say about Kim II-Sung or his son and successor Kim Jong-iI, but Dresnok seems most bizarre and deeply in avoidance when questioned about the kidnapping of women, later provided as wives for the Americans allegedly for some sort of captive breeding programme. Dresnok’s disingenuousness on this subject is, well…disturbing and beyond belief. When questioned about how he managed to survive during the famine that wiped out somewhere between 2-3 million North Koreans, Dresnok becomes tearful discussing how his rice rations kept coming while millions of Koreans starved. Dresnok’s interpretation of this is that Koreans died so he could live. This interpretation, that they had some sort of choice in the matter, is of course, nonsense. In 1995, Kim Jong-il’s regime made the decision to “triage” the northeast region of the country, blocking shipments of food to the area while ensuring that the capital, Pyongyang received adequate supplies while ‘non-essential’ industries received nothing.

Dresnok seems happy in North Korea. Settled now with a (second) wife and family, he’s convinced that his life in Korea is far better than anything he could have possibly achieved in America.

After the film concluded, I found myself thinking about Dresnok. I wasn’t bothered that he’d defected. After all, he was a young and troubled kid with no one to leave behind, no ties or obligations. But I did find some of his responses to the questions profoundly disturbing. He seems to be an extreme example of an individual who justifies the actions of his government. It’s a bit ironic really, Dresnok voices his opinion against the Korean War, and yet he’s so quick to justify the starvation of millions. Of course, at the same time, it doesn’t seem sensible that Dresnok would appear on camera condemning N. Korea’s leader. After all, he has a wife and family to think about now. As Dresnok’s childhood friend asks on camera: If he to desert, why did it have to be Korea?

But then I thought, what if someone made a film about the Iraq War? What if some director sat a cross-section of the American public down in front of cameras and made them explain what America is up to in Iraq? What would they say? Possibly several would talk about the so-called War on Terror and others would talk about Saddam Hussein and the (mythical) Weapons of Mass Destruction. Still others would cite 9-11 as the justification for war. Then, what if after making this film, the director played it to an audience of regular working-class Iraqis. I wonder what their reaction would be to the average American’s discussion of the Iraq War and the need to take the War on Terror into their country. What would they think if they sat there and listened to the Americans’ reasons for justifying the war? Would they find the Americans’ responses bizarre? Well, we can only imagine….

And so when I think about Dresnok, as much as his answers disturbed me, I reminded myself that many people justify the most horrendous, most violent and most inexcusable behaviours conducted by their governments. Dresnok is not alone on the planet on this issue. But the situation just seems so much more bizarre because he’s already such an oddity, even before he’s presented with tough questions about the famine and the kidnapped women. Captured on camera, Dresnok’s denials and avoidance seem downright peculiar, but then these situations are all right just as long as you’re drinking the Kool-Aid, but once you stop … it all seems insane and sickening.

Berkeley in the Sixties (1990)

“What you do is you go to Berkeley and you riot.”

The excellent documentary Berkeley in the Sixties explores how the formally quiet, peaceful Berkeley campus transformed into a centre for militant student activity. The film charts the political development on the Berkeley campus and how Berkeley activism meshed with the times. Many people have the impression that Berkeley students became politically active thanks to Vietnam, but the documentary debunks that idea. Chronicling various aspects of Berkeley student activism, director Mark Kitchell examines the highlights of the times–the Free Speech Movement on campus, the Black Panthers and Vietnam War protests.

The documentary includes clips from activists, now middle-aged, some who arrived at Berkeley as seasoned civil rights activists. Checking nostalgia wisely at the door, some activists recall the highlights of the times; some note the feeling that revolution was imminent while others discuss their mistakes. One of the most interesting points explaining the combustible situation on the Berkeley campus made by an interviewee is that “the young, privileged affluent children of the culture began to see themselves as an oppressed class.” There’s some great footage from the times, and some memorable quotes.

Max Rafferty Superintendent of Instruction refers to the student protestors as “a few of these rather bearded, unwashed characters with sandals and long hair who normally would be regarded and tolerated as a sort of lunatic fringe which you put up with but you don’t necessarily encourage. In effect the campus has been turned over to these characters.”

Particularly interesting is the manner in which the documentary establishes that students were involved in political activities off campus, but that punishments were enacted by campus administration that had ramifications for the students on campus. The film includes footage on Jack Weinberg’s arrest (students swarmed the police car with Weinberg inside, and the police car was unable to move for 32 hours), and protests at Sproul Hall in December 1964.

The film’s phenomenal footage includes protests, students hauled off by police and busloads of recruits about to be shipped off to Vietnam, and one interviewee recalls her distress at the sight of these young men–many of whom would not return.

By far my favourite parts include Ronald Reagan wagging his index finger at a roomful of Berkeley faculty, and there’s also one scene where he reads a letter that describes the supposedly scandalous goings-on amongst the youth of America (imagine that). It’s interesting to note that Reagan’s supposedly scandalous letter–packed with salacious details–tries to highlight the sexual hanky-panky afoot while ignoring the serious, political side of the student movement, and of course, it was the student radicalism that rankled the most.

This cohesive documentary charts exactly what actions sparked events: the organization of SLATE, the commie scare, the Civil Rights and Free Speech Movements, and the Stop The Draft Week. These were some amazing times, and the documentary captures the sense of excitement, energy, and the “massive collapse of campus authority.”

Kameradschaft (1931)

“This damned drudgery will kill us all.”

Kameradschaft or Comradeship (AKA La Tragedie de la Mine) from G.W Pabst is an amazing, gripping and stirring film that follows the efforts to rescue French miners trapped 2000 feet underground. With its theme that comradeship transcends borders and nationalities, Pabst set the film in post WWI, but it’s loosely based on the real life mining disaster at Courrieres in 1906.

The mine straddles the Franco-German border, and the French miners work their side, and the Germans work the German side. When the film begins, German miners try to find work over on the French side but they are turned away. In these the post WWI years, strong sentiment still exists between both sides–particularly since some of these men fought on opposite sides just a few years previously. These hostilities and resentments surface at a local tavern one evening. The two communities don’t mix well, and they tend to stick with their own countrymen.

The early parts of the film establish various characters and story threads, and then these characters become identifiable in the chaos of the mining disaster. There’s a romance brewing between Francoise (Andree Duchret) and miner Emile (Georges Charlia), the best friend of her brother, Jean (Daniel Mendaille). Francoise hates the mining life, and after leaving the community, she now lives and works in Paris. She tries to get her widowed mother to move to Paris too, but the mother replies: “many have gone to Paris. They earn more money but not enough to pay the rent.”

Another story thread involves George (Pierre-Louis), the young grandson of a former miner. The grandfather sends the lad underground with mixed emotions–on the one hand there’s a grim acceptance: “each gets his turn.” But on the other hand, the grandfather has misgivings and asks Emile and Jean to keep an eye on George.

When an explosion rips through the French side of the mine and huge columns of smoke bilge forth from the mineshaft, the entire community rushes to the pit for news. The wives, mothers and children of the trapped miners are locked out of the area, and the gates are policed to ensure they don’t get past. The palatable anguish of the families pours from the frustrated, desperate crowd, and they must wait beyond the gates while the owner of the mine is let through. These scenes reiterate not only the hierarchy of the owners, the management, and the workers but also underscore the adversarial relationship between these groups of people. There’s one moment when the police contemplate calling in the troops on the crowd of distraught mining families.

When news of the mining disaster reaches the German miners, they rally together to assist in the rescue efforts. A great deal of the film follows the rescue attempts as the German rescue crew search for signs of survivors. In one brilliant sequence, trapped French miners tap to alert the rescuers of their whereabouts, and the film flashes back to scenes in WWI trenches; the frantic tapping of the trapped French miners morphs into rapid machine gun fire, and a German miner experiences the horror of the trenches once again.

There’s a lesson here in comradeship, of course. Some of the Germans reject the idea of risking their lives to save the French miners with a savage irony–after all just a few years have passed since a bloody shooting party raged between both countries, but as one German miner points out, “why should we mind the generals. A miner’s a miner.” In another scene, German miners sit down and eat while on a break, and they cannot carry on knowing that men are dying. Nationality and old resentments are cast aside as the miners embrace the notion of comradeship.

The owners and the management are all more interested in keeping the mine a viable operation and saving men is not the priority. The miners are quite aware of this, and the knowledge that they are expendable helps spur them in the search for their comrades. The final scenes include speeches by both French and German miners:

“Regardless of whether we’re French or German, we’re all workers, and a miner is a miner. But why do we only stick together when it gets tough? Should we sit idly by until they’ve stirred us up so we shoot each other down in a war?

The coal belongs to everyone whether we dig it up on this side or the other, and if they can’t reach an agreement at the top, we’ll stick together because we belong together.”

Unfortunately, there is no happy ending for the horses trapped in the mines, and while the film acknowledges their usefulness and the human reliance on horses, at no point is rescuing the horses even considered–neither is their abandonment in the mines mentioned. In French and German with subtitles.

22/8: The Jeffrey Luers Story (2007)

“I am one of many political prisoners in the United States.”

The DVD 22/8: The Jeffrey Luers Story explores the background story behind the whooping sentence of 22 years and 8 months for torching 3 SUVs–an incident which resulted in  $40,000 of damage at the Romania Chevrolet dealership in Eugene, Oregon. The film argues that Jeff received such an enormous sentence for his political beliefs rather than for what he actually did. And it’s really impossible to argue that this isn’t true–in spite of the judge’s speech before handing down the sentence. Dubbed an eco-terrorist, Jeff Luers fell into the category “domestic terrorist,” and according to the FBI, “The number 1 domestic terrorist threat is the eco-terrorism, animal-rights movement.”

After watching the film, just to be perverse, I picked up my local paper, went to the crime section, and read the past year’s overview. Yes, there it was in black and white–several manslaughter convictions in which the perps got a year. Several kidnapping and brutal rapes netted 4-5 years apiece. Yes, there were also cases of arson and property damage–with a range of sentences–a year or even two….So then just for fun, I googled ‘22 year sentence’ and came up with second degree murder charges. A search on ‘20 year sentence’ yielded a case in which a man kidnapped a 17 year old, held her prisoner, injected her with meth and then raped her repeatedly. Googling ‘5 year sentence’ yielded stories ranging from a corrupt policeman who ran a drug ring (tut, tut), a congressman who committed a range of sex offenses with an underage girl, and a teen gang member who stabbed a rival gang member to death.

So that brings us back to Jeff Luers and his egregious sentence. The film contains interviews with Jeff from inside prison as he explains what he did and why he did it. Craig Marshall who accompanied Jeff received a plea bargain sentence of 5 1/2 years, and the film commentary explains how this huge discrepancy in sentencing occurred.

The film also presents a brief overview of Jeff’s activist life–he helped establish a campaign to stop the destruction of old growth forest in Eugene, Oregon, cooked for Food Not Bombs, and taught self-defense classes to women. The “need to install a sense of urgency about the looming global environmental crisis brought on by the increasing commodification of the planet” led to Jeff’s move to Direct Action in June 2000. Footage of the fire is included–along with a statement from the car lot’s security guard. The legal case against Jeff, however, was further complicated by two other factors: Jeff was subsequently implicated in an incident at Tyree Oil. But possibly the dominant factor in Jeff’s horrendous sentencing was a second incident that took place at the same auto dealership. This million-dollar fire was accompanied by a communiqué stating “solidarity” with Jeff. Jeff states that the communiqué was “inappropriate” and “enforced prosecutors’ belief that I was a leader.”

If the intention of the sentence was to send a ‘message’ then, as usually is the case, the message sent was not the message received. By making an ‘example’ of Jeff Luers through his lengthy sentence, the state, in effect, created a martyr, and helped spread the word. In Moscow, for example, in 2004, supporters spray painted “FREE JEFF LUERS” on the American embassy. The state isn’t, of course prone to self-examination, but I am going to include a quote here from Pontecorvo’s marvelous film, Burn. The main character, Walker the servant of the Imperialism warns against creating a martyr, for a hero “becomes a martyr, and the martyr becomes a myth. A myth is more dangerous than a man because you can’t kill a myth.”

Interviews with Jeff’s parents are included along with footage of a June 12 gathering to commemorate the anniversary of his sentencing. Jeff Luers is due for a sentencing rehearing on Jan 15th 2008 (rescheduled again for Feb 7th), so let’s wish him all the best, and offer him our support. After serving a substantial part of his sentence, Jeff should be able to move on with his life. Jeff Luers has a lot to offer the world, and I hope he gets the chance to do so.

From Cascadia Media Collective, the DVD is available at www.akpress.org
Info on Jeff: www.freefreenow.org

Making a Killing: The Political Economy of Animal Rights by Bob Torres

“The centrality of classifying animals as property should not be underestimated when it comes to considering the depths of animal exploitation woven into our society and economy. Having animals categorized as property gives us the ability to exploit them as a resource for even minor human wants.”

Anarchists disagree on a lot of issues but agree on others. Most would agree that hierarchy in this world–forced upon us at birth and ingrained through every aspect of culture is unacceptable. Most would agree society reinforces hierarchy through its many institutions, and that hand-in-hand with hierarchy comes unequal wealth and power distribution. And again, most anarchists would agree that capitalism has a huge role in oppressing and exploiting people; domination and hierarchy thrive in the fertile ground of an economic system that views people as units for production. But just how do animals fit into the capitalist equation? That’s a question asked by social anarchist Bob Torres in the book, Making a Killing: The Political Economy of Animal Rights. Torres takes a fresh and fascinating look at the way we treat animals, and in presenting his argument that animals are just as much a part of the corporate machine as humans, he argues that with a “baseline” of veganism:

“As a needless and unnecessary form of hierarchy, anarchists should reject the consumption, enslavement, and subjugation of animals for human ends, and identify it as yet another oppressive aspect of the relations of capital and a needless form of domination.”

Now to some, that statement–as we absorb it–makes perfect sense. But other anarchists will reject this position. Is it extreme to see that animals are simply tools in the capitalist machine? If we embrace this position, then surely the next thing is to reject the consumption of animal products, just as we reject other forms of capitalism that insidiously and persistently attempt to weave into every aspect of our lives.

Torres, a philosophy professor at St. Lawrence University presents his antispeciesist argument to the reader, and after finishing the book, I have to say that Making A Killing is one of the best books I read in 2007. Torres has managed to clarify many of the problems I had with issues connected to the animal rights movement, commodification of animals, and the animal agriculture industry. Torres presents irrefutable arguments regarding the treatment of animals, and he does this by combining Marxist economic theory with anarchist beliefs.

Arguing that there are “similarities with how humans are exploited as labor power” and “how animals are exploited as commodities,” Torres walks the reader through his belief that agriculture animals are members of the working class, with animals “mere ends towards the production of greater capital.” Holding absolute power and dominion over animals, we treat them in a range of ways–at best they are seen as property, at worst they are enslaved in the violence of the capitalist money making machine. Forced to labor and produce, “animals are nothing more than living machines, transformed from beings who live for themselves into beings that live for capital.”

But beyond examining animal agriculture, Torres also explores the exploitation of animals in vivisection. Citing some of the ridiculous and redundant aspects of animal experimentation, he notes that with a death toll of a “conservative estimate of 20 million animals per year in the United States alone” vivisection “is big business.”

Another issue covered in the book is the bizarre contrast in the way we treat animals. Torres argues that some species are granted special status, companion animals, for example. While they would seem to be higher on the hierarchal chain of worth assigned to them by humans, Torres notes that they still “seem to occupy a sort of nether-world between animal and human,” and that they are still fundamentally (legally) viewed as property. There’s a current trend afoot to encourage the ‘gentrification’ of companion animals by draping dogs and cats in designer jewelry. The capitalist system has undoubtedly seen the benefits of feeding the idea of companion animals as fashion accessories–there is–after all BIG money to be made on these consumerist trends.

Torres also blasts the animal rights groups who seem to have been effectively co-opted by capitalism (this should come as no great surprise to anarchists). While he acknowledges, “critiquing PETA is seen as a special form of heresy,” he cites several examples to back up his criticism; PETA’s granting the ‘Visionary” award, for example, to Temple Grandin for redesigning slaughterhouses “to decrease the amount of suffering that animals experience in their final hours.” According to Torres, this “defies rational comprehension” and is “at the very least contradictory.” Torres argues this is just one example of the many “Faustian bargains” mainstream organizations make with the animal agriculture industry in order to maintain “bureaucratic concerns.” He notes that we opt out of our responsibility by imagining that animal welfare groups are there in place to oversee the job for us. If the animal welfare groups are out there improving animal slaughter in order to ensure that happy animals end up on our dinner tables, then we can eat meat with a clear conscience.

Torres really hits some chords when he points out that in many ways, animal activist groups simple end up helping corporations develop great new business strategies and yuppie market niches. Citing the blatant example of Whole Foods, Torres notes that “they’ve been able to convince people that are supposedly opposed to animal exploitation to sign on to a business and marketing model that relies on the exploitation of animals, albeit in kinder, gentler ways.” Whole Foods, and other similar corporations “get to appear as the ‘ethical’ choice for consumers who care, but who don’t care enough to give up foods that exploit.” We’ve all seen the ads–ranging from Amish chickens to my personal favorite–’tasty veal without the cruelty.’

One of the things I particularly like about Torres’s book is that there is no aim to make us wallow in guilt. Guilt as an issue comes up only in connection with sneaky marketing ploys used by corporations designed to ensnare us into guilt avoidance. Torres makes his arguments with clear concise rationality, and he offers facts and figures without emotional hyperbole. The book ends on a surprisingly optimistic note with suggestions for readers. I’ve long been troubled by animal commodification and exploitation and Making a Killing: The Political Economy of Animal Rights synthesized these issues for me by placing animals “within the larger dynamics of capitalist exploitation.” The book includes an index (always appreciated by this reader), and scrupulous notes for further reading. Excellent.

17.95
AK Press
171 pages

Knife in the Head (1978)

“I am … Nobody.”

The German film Knife in the Head (Messer Im Kopf) from director Reinhard Hauff is one of a handful of films created to reflect and question society in post-Red Army Faction Germany. Knife in the Head is the story of a perfectly innocent German citizen who becomes caught up in the state machine when he’s erroneously identified as a terrorist. Deemed guilty for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he’s framed in order to justify police brutality.

The film concerns bio-geneticist Hoffman (Bruno Ganz) who’s separated from his wife Anna (Angela Winkler). When the film begins Hoffman tries to contact Anna, and when that doesn’t work, he drives over to one of her frequent haunts–a youth center on Jacobi Strasse. But just as Hoffman arrives, the police raid the building. Hoffman, anxious about Anna, ignores police orders to stay out of the building, and he runs inside. He’s ordered to stop. He turns, and he’s shot in the head. Barely alive, he’s taken to the hospital for emergency surgery.

Hoffman survives, but his survival brings a host of problems. Hoffman faces years of physical rehabilitation. Paralyzed on his right side, he’s also lost a great deal of his memory. He has to relearn speech and is incapable of the simplest acts of self-care; he even has to be taught how to feed himself. The official police version of events is that Hoffman stabbed a policeman who then shot him in self-defense. Meanwhile, the police, convinced that Hoffman is a terrorist, post a 24-hour watch in the hospital, and decide he’s “faking” his injuries. His estranged wife, Anna feels a moral obligation to Hoffman, yet she’s in another relationship with the confrontational Volker (Heinz Hoenig).

The media has a field day with the story, and at first it’s reported that Hoffman just has a few “knocks on the head,” while the policeman’s superficial stab wound is reported as near fatal. Soon the papers carry stories about “Berthold Hoffman’s Double Life,” and his reputation is utterly destroyed. A great deal of the film follows Hoffman’s painstakingly slow recovery in the hospital. Unable to defend himself–partly because at first he can’t speak, and partly because he suffers from memory loss–the police build a case against him and want to haul him off to a prison hospital. One huge problem with the official version of events is that there’s no knife to back up the story against Hoffman. And this is where the film’s title comes in–the knife–is a figment of the imagination, and it exists only in someone’s head.

Meanwhile, Volker, who’s a seasoned adversary of the state, reasons that if Hoffman is going to be questioned while he’s incapacitated, he should be groomed for this. He argues: “you want the pigs to make him learn their version, or what?” Anna disagrees, but it’s perhaps Hoffman’s lawyer who takes the more reasonable approach. In this critically sensitive time period for Hoffman, Volker, in trying to spread the word about Hoffman, ends up creating further problems for Hoffman (makes me think of Jeff Luers). All of Hoffman’s life–his work, his education count for nothing as far as the state is concerned, and even though there’s a perfectly rational explanation for why Hoffman was at the Youth Centre, he’s labeled a terrorist and no one outside of Hoffman’s immediate circle questions this version of events.

Anna and Volker visit Hoffman in hospital, and it’s an awkward situation at best–even though Volker states Hoffman is “just a political case.” Each visit to Hoffman is preceded by a search, and here’s the dialogue from one scene:

Volker (to policeman at desk who is calling in to report visitors): What does Big Brother say? Am I a good guy or a bad guy? Check my bank account while you’re at it.

Policeman: No money for 2 years. Your social life is a front. Want to know more?

Volker: Yes

Policeman: You’ve got a police record. Didn’t finish high school. Arrested for disturbing the peace. Three illegal demonstrations this year. Drug abuse too, etc etc.

Volker: So I’m a good guy. How come you and brother aren’t wireless yet?

Policeman: Soon enough. Thanks to you and your friends.

Perhaps the greatest travesty against Hoffman, however, is that after ruining his life, his career, and his health, the police simply ‘move on’ leaving him destroyed. Their attention is now focused on someone else. Hoffman, who’s been an innocent bystander, a victim, and scripted as a terrorist by the police, the media and society, finally takes his fate into his own hands and seeks answers. In German with subtitles.