Bash the Rich by Ian Bone

“The Jethros–a well tasty mob of old hippies from Exeter–are going up the West End to start trashing Oxford Street, waterfalls of glass cascading everywhere. The Jethros had some idea about crashing a load of cars together at the junction of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road and torching them but they’re talked out of it in case innocent bystanders get blown away. One of them mutters Emile Henri’s famous line “there are no innocents!” The Jethros line was either fight with us or get what’s coming to you. Oxford Street is duly trashed. All the out-of-towners act the same, forming little hit squads with their mates, coalescing, melting away and striking again. The cops are ill-prepared for the diversity of the actions and completely taken by surprise.”

After reading the June KSL Bulletin which included a review of Ian Bone’s memoir Bash the Rich: True Life Confessions of an Anarchist in the UK, I decided to pull the book from my shelf and start reading.

Bash the Rich is a lively read, covering seminal incidents in Ian’s anarchist life (there are very few personal details here), and Ian’s sense of humour seeps through on every page. On page 66, I knew that I was going to really enjoy this book:

“One of the best compliments I had in my Alarm-writing days was that I wrote just like I talked. Since every other word I use is ‘fucking’, to write without swearing would have been impossible. The swearing caused a lot of arguments - some people thought we’d be restricting our audience to youngsters or politicos or punks (this was 1977 by the way!) or men. I stuck firmly to the ‘let’s have lots of fucking swearing’ line. If you call a council leader a ‘wanker’ in print that was fine, but if you called the council leader a ‘fucking wanker’ that was even better. If you called the council leader a ‘FUCKING WANKER’ and stuck it on the front page, that was better still.”

After finishing the book, I felt as though I’d spent a few hours with Ian having a chat–him with a pint in one hand, and me listening as he recounted the story of his life from his birth in 1947 to where the book ends in 1985.

Ian’s father came from mining stock and would have been down the pits like everyone else if he hadn’t had the ‘lucky break’ of becoming a servant. Ian’s father rose from the dizzying heights of third footman to butler by the time Ian was born, and so he grew up in a succession of “big houses” as his parents passed through a series of employment situations as butler and housemaid. It was certainly this exposure to the lifestyles of the rich and famous that put Ian onto the path of Class War. A few pages are spent establishing Ian’s Class War roots as he explains the ‘tied cottage’ system and early exposure to instances of gratuitous selfishness on the part of his parents’ wealthy employers.

After discovering anarchism at 15, Ian later attended Swansea University and remained in Wales for 17 years. Producing leaflets, mingling with Welsh nationalists, anarcho-punks and members of the Angry Brigade, as well as attending marches, and selling papers in an ever-growing anarchist scene, Ian went on to co-produce the Swansea Solidarity paper with its emphasis on “encouraging workers on strike or facing redundancy to organize sit-ins and take over the running of their workplace and kick the bosses out.” Another highly successful venture Ian was involved in was the Dole Express–a paper geared towards the unemployed. And some of the results from this anarcho-agitation make for hilarious reading.

In 1977, Ian along with some like-minded comrades began producing Alarm: “an organ of organised class hatred.” The paper amassed stories of scandal and corruption in local politics, and I had a good laugh when I read that Welsh politico Sid ‘Vicious’ Jenkins when (finally) arrested on corruption charges shouted to a TV reporter on the scene who had a copy of Alarm in his hand: “I haven’t read it but it’s all untrue. It’s all the work of anarchists.”

In 1982, Ian moved to London, and he really shook up the established anarchist scene, noting “the twin pillars of English anarchism Freedom and Black Flag and their respective gurus Albert Meltzer and Vernon Richards. The labyrinthine feuding between the two stretching back over 30 years had been a major factor in rendering the English anarchist movement impotent.” The book’s implication is that the anarchist scene was–well more or less dead–and needed a swift kick in the bum: “Apart from trawling through the obscure anarcho-periodical section at Compendium and Housemans, Freedom Bookshop and 121 Railton Road were the anarchist bookshops where you might hope to pick up signs of any sentient life in the anarchist movement.” And with Ian Bone’s arrival in London, the anarchist movement certainly livened up, and by 1983, The Sunday People newspaper ran the headline stating that Ian was “unmasked… the evil man who preaches hate to children.” Ian’s response: ” ‘Evil man’ and ‘children’ have a kind of Gary Glitter feel about it rather than your Che Guevera ‘dangerous revolutionary’ kind of tag.’ “

With Ian’s move to London came the creation of Class War–a no-holds barred, confrontational tabloid style newspaper that was “pro-action and violence.” The book includes some of the Class War headlines, cartoons and articles. Ian’s description of the goals of Class War includes the following: “It would be big and tabloid brash, lots of short articles and graphics, no long boring shit. It would be fucking funny as fucking fuck. It would plagiarise and pinch like there was no yesterday.” I’ve never seen any of the Class War newspapers, so it was great to see these clips included in the memoir. Details here include: The rise and fall of Class War–the triumphs, the problems, and the arguments with other anarchists and anarchist groups that began to emerge over issues such as heterosexuality.

Ian describes the principles of Class War, the paper’s growing circulation, the mistakes made and its phenomenal successes. Also covered are the Class War Conferences, the riotous Stop the City action, the Bash the Rich march, and Class War solidarity with the striking miners. And through it all Ian unabashedly admits: “Our real political influence was the English mob and we intended to be the proud inheritors of that mob tradition stretching back to the Peasants’ Revolt but finding its first real form in the London mob of the civil war period.”

Irreverent, unapologetic and with flashes of witty wisdom (many points taken), Bash the Rich also includes some great lessons learned: “Delusional triumphalism has been refined to perfection by the SWP which keeps its members in a permanent state of retarded ejaculation by news of a cleaner’s strike in Barnoldswick, five papers sold in Rugby or a tide of global events interpreted by the leadership as proof of that their cogent analysis of capitalism has, yet again, been demonstrated correct by events.” Ian, if you read this, we need part II of your True-Life Confessions. To quote Ian: “Those were the days my friend. Oh yes, those were the days.”

Ian Bone just sold the rights to Bash The Rich for the whooping sum of 10 pounds to British filmmaker Greg Hall www.bashtherichfilm.wordpress.com  Can’t wait for that one….

For Ian’s blog and to read about what he is up to these days: www.ianbone.wordpress.com

To buy the book: www.akpress.org

The Treatment and the Cure by Peter Kocan

“You’re not feeling so cheerful now, with this talk of shock treatment. You start to think how it was all too good to be true. Now you’re finding out about the bad thing, the thing you knew had to be here though you didn’t know exactly what it would be. Shock treatment! It had a very bad ring to it. Especially the word ‘treatment.’ When they biffed you it was pretty bad, but at least you knew they were doing something they shouldn’t be doing. They knew it too. There was always a chance they’d get into trouble for biffing. Not much of a chance, but a chance. Also some screws didn’t agree with biffing, and they’d try to stop other screws who did it. But ‘treatment’ was different … they could do it with a clean conscience because they were trying to help you.

In 1966, nineteen-year-old Peter Kocan attempted to assassinate politician Arthur Calwell. Kocan failed and was subsequently tried and found guilty of attempted murder. Sentenced to life imprisonment, he was first sent to Long Bay Correctional Centre and then transferred to the Criminally Insane Ward of the Morisset Psychiatric Hospital. The novel The Treatment and The Cure (originally published as two separate novellas) is an autobiographical but fictionalized account of Kocan’s experiences told through the eyes of nineteen-year-old Len Tarbutt.

When the novel begins, Len, confused and disoriented, is freshly transferred from a prison to a mental asylum. At first the hospital seems a great improvement over Long Bay prison, but Len very soon discovers that the insane asylum has its own minefields to be avoided at all costs: medications that reduce the powerless patient to a zombie-like state and electric shock ‘therapy’ administered by the forgetful but enthusiastic doctor known as “Electric Ned.”

Len mingles with an assortment of patients with a range of problems–murderers, child molesters, and even peeping Toms. Lonely and withdrawn, Len soon learns the asylum system–where the number one rule is not to draw attention to yourself. But surviving in this system is easier said than done–especially when bored and sadistic guards often set up scenarios in which patients are guaranteed to be dragged off to shock therapy. Len witnesses many patients who were functional reduced to cretinism by the over-eagerness of Electric Ned.

The very best parts of this excellent novel describe how Len tries desperately to appear normal and rational, yet this is a game in which the inmates don’t make the rules. Even Len’s attraction to poetry becomes suspect at one point as it causes him to read and meditate in solitude–an activity that’s largely frowned upon. Sometimes when inmates come to the attention of the guards and the doctors, they’re questioned and boxed in with circular logic, and there’s always shock treatment as the inevitable outcome awaiting them. For example, a particularly sadistic guard named Smiler continuously persecutes one inmate named Sam. When the inmate complains about the persecution, it’s becomes a signal that he’s ‘paranoid’:

“Everyone knows that mentally ill people think they’re being persecuted, so Sam is sealing his own fate by accusing Smiler. Smiler is pleased at how beautifully it’s working out.”

In spite of the dark subject matter, Kocan manages to write with a humour that’s refreshingly innocent. Although Kocan writes in the first person, Kocan’s protagonist describes his environment by using the second person ‘you.’ This creates a numbing depersonalized distance between the narrator and his difficult experiences.

There are some wonderful passages that describe patients who appear cured, but they’ve simply learnt the game well enough to give the ‘authorities’ exactly what they want to hear. Zurka, for example, doesn’t seem like the sort of person who chopped up several passengers on a train, but that’s exactly what he did. After spending several years at the asylum, he appears ‘cured,’ but there are some instances in which Len retains nagging doubts about some of the inmates’ preparedness to be returned to society:

“Zurka is obviously very sorry and sad when he’s telling you about the last bit, about the train. You are quite sure he’d never do anything like that again. You’d bet your bones on it. If it was up to you, you’d let Zurka go to the open section. Yet when he’s talking about the psychiatrists who took all his money for pills and fees, or about his Polish countrymen who wouldn’t help him, you get a faint cold feeling of worry. There’s an edge in his voice that makes you think he’s spent the years here remembering the wrong they did him. It’s probably nothing. You’d still let him go to the open section if the decision was up to you. Yet, you’re glad somehow, that it’s someone else’s decision.”

Those who learn the rules and a superficial degree of conformity are judged ‘normal’–and as long as the inmates pay satisfactory attention to these rules, those in charge are happy with the inmates’ progress. It doesn’t seem to occur to those rule-makers that perhaps the inmates have learned to mimic the behaviour the doctors, nurses and guards want to see:

“You’re talking to Zurka about what he did to the people with his butcher’s chopper. He doesn’t mind talking about it now. He’s pretty sure he’s to be transferred to the open section and he wants to show that he understands about his crime and why he did it and that it was a dreadful act. The screws say that being able to talk calmly about your crime shows you’ve gained insight. Of course, you mustn’t talk about it too much, or too calmly, or they’ll say you’re dwelling on it or that you aren’t showing a healthy remorse.”

Strangely enough, some of Len’s hardest times are when he’s transferred out of maximum security. He falls under the ‘care’ of a sadistic nurse nicknamed Blue–a woman who torments some of those who fall under her jurisdiction. One of the ubiquitous ideas in the novel is the degree of mental illness inside the asylum. Whereas the patients are diagnosed and labeled with terms, some of the more sadistic employees are able to mentally torture inmates and twist reality with impunity to such a degree that the more fragile inmates escape the only way they can–through suicide.

There are escapes, the moments of joy, and small but powerful acts of human kindness, and the few people who reach out to Len makes all the difference in the world. There’s the overwhelming idea that no one really gets ‘cured’–even though that’s supposedly the goal held for all the inmates, and the system recreated here in these pages would most likely push anyone in a fragile mental state over the edge. Since this is basically a coming-of-age novel, this is not only a fictionalized memoir of asylum life but also an account of Len’s gradual ability to self-heal when given the fragments of opportunity.

All of the employees at the asylum inherently believe in different approaches to mental well-being. For example, the librarian believes reading provides healing, Electric Ned believes a cure can be found in shock treatment, and the therapy supervisor, Mr. Trowbridge believes that work is therapy. Although Trowbridge is a thoughtful man, one of Len’s few advocates, his dogmatic belief has little flexibility. To Trowbridge, the road to mental health is found through employment and functionality, and the ability to work is the measure of mental health. Similarly, the sadistic nurses and guards use the systems they embody (medications and rules) and create ways to subvert and sabotage any progress made towards mental health, and as in any closed system (school, for example) there are favourites and there are those who are picked on unmercifully. Institutional corruption is not included in this tale because for Len it doesn’t seem to exist; instead cruelty exists because of abusive power structures directed by banality and boredom. Cruelty is, therefore, the more devastating for its sheer disinterest.

On one last note, Kocan has published several books and has won awards for his fiction.

239 pages

Europa Editions

The Bonnot Gang by Richard Parry

“To counter the threat of armed working class bandits, many bourgeois began to arm themselves; from dawn to dusk they queued up to buy guns and learn how to use them, while car-owners, feeling particularly threatened, offered their vehicles to the police until such time as the bandits were caught. Cars were not yet widespread, and the idea that workers could not only have access to them, but make this particular use of them was very worrying.”

The Bonnot Gang: The Story of the French Illegalists by Richard Parry is an excellent, highly detailed account of the notorious French anarchist gang–”auto-bandits” who were the first group to use getaway cars during the course of robberies.

Don’t even think about skipping the preface to the book because this is an essential part in understanding how the members of the so-called Bonnot Gang were a symptom of the times. The term ‘Bonnot Gang’ by the way, was the name given by the French press to a loosely connected group of French anarchists–some were friends and some only had the barest acquaintance with the others. The author points out that they “were not a close-knit criminal band in the classical style, but rather a union of egoists associated for a common purpose.”

Tracing the ideas and influence of Max Stirner and his book The Ego and Its Own, Parry credits Stirner as a powerful influence on anarchist-individualism and spends the marvelous first chapter describing the anarchist scene in France and the growth of anarchist-individualism. Following the debacle of the 1871 Paris Commune, the French government cracked down, and with “revolutionary organizations outlawed, and all forms of working class political activity banned, anarchists and trade-unionists were forced to operate in ways that were clandestine and outrightly illegal.” But in spite of this (or perhaps because of this), by the 1880s “there were an estimated forty anarchist groups in France with two thousand five hundred active members.”

The bitter aftermath of the Paris Commune “left a rich legacy of class-hatred” and Parry explains, “all anarchist activity and propaganda was centered on the class struggle which was especially bitter and violent up to the mid 1890s.” Since these were active times, a plethora of newspapers sprang up, and a number of anarchist groups emerged. One of the most prominent papers to emerge was L’Anarchie–considered the mouthpiece of anarchist-individualism–the paper “positively promoted crime and the theory of illegalism.” Co-founded in 1905 by Libertad, the paper’s position was that “there were not two opposed classes, bourgeois and proletarian, but only individuals.” Libertad seems to be a rather explosive character who quarreled with Syndicalists and was largely unwelcome–except in his own circle, and even then he managed to alienate friends and lovers.

Parry explains how Illegalism grew out of anarchist-individualism and points out that “almost all the Illegalists who were associated with the Bonnot Gang were born in the late 1880s or early 90s.” During this period, Parry argues, “the anarchist desire for the abolition of the state was translated onto an immediate practical level through individual acts of assassination and bombing.” Furthermore the idea of expropriation was “reduced to individual acts of ‘re-appropriation’ through the theory of La Reprise Individuelle.” Parry stresses the point that Illegalism differed from La Reprise Individuelle as the “illegalists stole not simply for the advancement of the cause, but for their own advancement.” And it was during these times that some infamous French anarchist criminals existed: Clement Duval, Marius Jacob and Ravachol. There’s a brief overview of their careers included.

Gangs began to emerge, and proceeds from burglaries and thefts were donated to the Cause, and naturally some donated more than others. Meanwhile an intellectual argument raged between anarchists regarding Illegalism and its moral justification, and eventually a split formed. While Illegalists argued that so-called “honest citizens, believers in the State and Authority” were part of the problem, others argued against Illegalism and the use of violence and force against ordinary citizens. Again Parry goes into some detail about this split–those pro and those con Illegalism, the major proponents and detractors, and their arguments for their beliefs.

There’s a clear sense of the social pressures of the time that helped create Illegalism. With mandatory military service, there were thousands of deserters roaming around France, unable to work, and even for those who could find work, often an eighteen-hour day of the most horrendous working conditions barely managed to put food on the table. (According to the book, in the early 1900s, there were approximately 70,000 deserters and draft dodgers.) One of the gang members, anarchist and draft dodger Octave Garnier was trying to make a living at age 13, but turned to crime. Working a “sixteen or eighteen hour day, seven days a week” on forged documents barely allowed survival. Garnier became increasingly disillusioned and frustrated with his situation and gradually came to loathe the system. Into this difficult social environment, Illegalism was born, and the Bonnot Gang became a major part of it.

Parry goes into significant detail describing the members of the gang–their relationships, their teetotalism and vegetarianism. The book details the “legendary” violent crimes the Bonnot Gang committed, the subsequent hysteria that swept through France, how the gang members were caught, the trials, executions and exiles. As the net tightens on the Bonnot Gang, there’s the sense that this is only going to go one way, and certainly most of the Bonnot Gang exited this life as spectacularly as they lived it. There’s quite an extensive list of characters, so it’s advisable to take notes. You may need them.

It always seems a little unfortunate when anarchists fight amongst themselves, and yet at the same time, criticism of anarchists by other anarchists is invaluable. The aftermath of the Bonnot Gang left many anarchists scrambling to explain their philosophical positions on Illegalism. Parry goes into some depth on the sticky role Victor Serge (Victor Kibalchich) played in the trial. While as the editor of L’Anarchie, Serge promoted Illegalism, he backtracked and waffled during the trial and later called Illegalism a form of “collective suicide.” Other anarchists at the time expressed the notion that the Bonnot Gang went off the deep end. Some felt that Illegalists were not anarchists at all but were “pseudo-anarchists who dishonour the anarchist ideal” and others resented the post-Bonnot Gang crackdown on the anarchist community. The story of the Bonnot Gang is an integral part of anarchist history and it’s a story that raises some intriguing questions and deserves attention. But part from all that, the book is an excellent read.

The book includes a bibliography, index and many black and white photos.

189 pages
Rebel Press

Come and Wet This Truncheon by Dave Douglass

“Where are all the constitutional checks and balances so famed of the bourgeois political theory? The separation of powers and administrators to prevent the rise of such unchecked actions? The judiciary, as we have seen, fell nicely into place.”

Come And Wet This Truncheon: The Role Of The Police In The Coal Strike Of 1984-1985 is a 32-page booklet is based on the experiences of the author, miner and NUM Branch Delegate, Dave Douglass. In the introduction, Douglass explains that although there are other pamphlets written on the subject of the miners’ strike, they cover such issues as civil rights and the extension of police powers. The author emphasizes that his booklet focuses on the “way in which the police operation confronted us as ordinary working people.” At the same time, Douglass realizes that those of us who’ve never had clashes with police will no doubt have a difficult time accepting that the “police in Britain have acted like this and are about to carry on acting like this as a matter of course.” That said, the booklet was written in 1986, and I suspect that a large portion of the population would not be surprised at some of the episodes of targeted violence recorded in these pages. I recall the footage of the WTO protests in Seattle 1999….

Douglass makes the point that some of us grew up with benign images of the police–Mr. Plod the Policeman (children’s book character) and Dixon of Dock Green (television programme), and some of the residents in mining areas suffered from those antiquated bucolic stereotypes when they found out the hard way that Thatcher, determined to destroy “the enemy within”–conducted a military style campaign against the strikers. Douglass notes that the government had “been cynically preparing this mixture of social poison since we beat them in 1974….It’s been coldly and clinically planned, and if it’s been enthusiastically and zealously put into operation, it’s because the faceless powers behind desks and phones have made sure they only recruit the right sort of person who unquestioningly gets on with the job of beating down the workers.”

The booklet is not a chronological account of the various clashes between miners, locals and police. Instead Douglass records incidents of tactics used and some of the more egregious treatment (black and white photos included) meted out by police involved in the strike:

· Police ‘pincer’ type movements,
· Police beatings with truncheons (the title refers to the police taunts),
· Forcing people into protest areas,
· Agent provocateurs
· Raiding and smashing of homes of people who had nothing to do with the miners or the strike
· Police removing their identification
· Raiding of clubs and pubs
· The sealing off of a village and banning journalists from recording events
· Phone Tapping
· Use of police dogs against families of miners
· Hints of army/paramilitary involvement.

One set of photos comes with the caption “policing the Miners’ strike at Orgreave, Yorkshire May and June 1984″ along with the newspaper headline “Police horses were called in to restore order.” These photos look more like assaults by the Mongol Horde updated to the 20th century with the Mongols wearing police uniforms and whacking their truncheons at anyone in their way. So much for bringing order.

According to the author, even some miners who’d witnessed the violence of the 1926 strike were shocked at the police tactics. Douglass argues that while the violence of the state was unleashed against the miners who were largely pilloried by the press “the implication for the labour movement at large and civil liberties in general are deadly.” Twenty years later, that’s clear.

If you would like to read more on the subject, I recommend Pit Sense Versus The State: A History of Militant Miners in the Doncaster Area  by the same author. For copies of Come And Wet This Truncheon, go to www.akpress.com

Bending The Bars by John Barker

“News came through that a con on C wing had been murdered by screws in the block beaten to pulped pulp then hanged to cover it up, a suicide story. It seemed too cynical to be true. I knew screws could be brutal but this was too much, all my deepest fears congealed.”

In the 1970s, a group called the Angry Brigade claimed responsibility for a number of actions in Britain–including the bombing of the home of employment minister Robert Carr. After other bombings, arrests took place followed by the longest conspiracy trial in the history of the British legal system. At the conclusion of the trial of the Stoke Newington Eight (this refers to the eight people eventually tried for conspiracy and weapons possession) twenty-three-year-old John Barker received a ten-year sentence for his role in the Angry Brigade. Deemed a Category A prisoner–A Danger to the State, Barker was locked up and rotated through several British prisons. After completion of seven years of this sentence (1971-1978), Barker was released. Bending the Bars is a collection of essays covering those seven years inside.

The book is not a memoir in the strictest sense. This is not a chronological account of day one forward until release–although the book does end with Barker walking out of prison. Instead this is a collection of essays highlighting some of Barker’s experiences in prison. Barker states that “the cops had framed an guilty man,” so there’s no self-pity–but there is a strong analysis of exactly what it’s like to be caught in the net and tossed into a system that attempts to manage and control Barker and his fellow cons. In spite of some very hard times, in the foreword, Barker states that his “time inside was the golden age of such prisons…. Since that time we have endured Mrs. Thatcher, Michael Howard and Tony Blair, all keen on punishing people who are not ‘Hard-working families who play by the rules’ as Blair put it. Prison is almost exclusively for working class people who do not ‘play by the rules’.”

Barker argues that prison is “like an experiment in social control” with a purpose under New Labour “to destroy what remains of collective solidarity amongst cons.” Indeed Barker cites many examples of protest solidarity amongst prison inmates, and it’s clear that to the Barker and his fellow cons, they had to stick together. The sense of unity amongst cons prevails–from Barker’s contacts with the Irish prisoners to the odd con rumble, but the cons attempt, for the most part, to retain the sense that their collective situation and condition warrants solidarity. Indeed it’s quite clear that when the cons stand together, they are at their strongest. In-fighting and the odd snitch weaken their solidarity, and tension and frustration erode friendships at times.

The first essay Early Days: Brixton covers Barker’s “comprehensive tour of misery”–his initial adjustment, his boredom, and the realization that in prison you can’t control even a tiniest detail of your own life. Everything is subject to routine–when you get up, when you go to bed, and Barker describes the feeling of power prisoners experience when they execute a seemingly minor act of independence. On the receiving end of the system, Barker recognized that “a sadist in the Home Office” dreamed up many of the conditions inside the prison (Derrick Jensen’s book Welcome to the Machine goes into the subject of prison design in some length). Barker’s argument that some sicko had to have had a hand in designing the prison and its systems of control is a point made repeatedly throughout the book–from the petty humiliations, the “shit parcels,” and the sweat box. On one occasion, the prisoners are ordered to make a large number of prison beds for Saudi Arabia, and on another occasion, the cons gather to watch a film that just happens to have a death row, execution sequence. “Asylum mode” cube shaped cells at Long Lartin Prison seem designed with a clinical interest in isolation in mind, and Barker wryly notes that he “could do without the deluxe shitting service but did not want to live in a box.” In this regimented, depersonalized and isolated world, with privacy stripped away, small kindnesses carry great weight.

The thing I found most surprising about the book is that Barker’s sense of humour prevails. In spite of confinement, in spite of losing someone he loved, he conveys moments of joy, and relates many amusing conversations amongst the prisoners. For example, in the chapter Manoeuvres, Barker recalls a conversation about Pavlov–a touchy subject given the situation. One con enrolled in an Open University course on behavior proceeds to defend Pavlov as a man who “was just describing the facts.” Barker answers: “But the facts as you call them came out of a set-up. The dog didn’t need the fucking bell to eat his dinner.” In another chapter, a con “had this thing about spaceships.”

Bending the Bars comes across as a remarkably honest, direct and unpretentious record of some of Barker’s experiences. This is not an account written by a cynical, hardened, angry individual. Instead, Barker comes across as an accepting individual who learns to cope with imprisonment, who fights depression and despair. He notes guards who seem to have some sort of standard of behavior and guards who are just sadistic and have an unhealthy enjoyment of their jobs. Included are some fascinating observations about the Irish prisoners, and this brings up the issue of hunger strikes. Barker includes his thoughts on the hunger strike as a tactic and notes that while he was willing to join such a motion in solidarity, “we didn’t believe in it as a tactic because it seemed to assume that the other side were ultimately humane people.” I’d never thought of it in those terms before.

The book makes it clear that the notion that prison is supposed to ‘rehabilitate’ inmates is ludicrous. It’s all about punishment, power, and control–although Barker did get to make a few pillowcases. On another note, I wish the book included some sort of glossary. I was able to infer meaning into some terms used, but in other cases, I had no clue what some words meant.

On an aside note, and to reiterate Barker’s observation that “prison is almost exclusively for working class people who do not “play by the rules” Z Magazine January 2008 pp. 23-24 included the “Prison Challenge Quiz.” If you haven’t seen this and are interested in the subject, get your hands on a copy. Anyway, question 12 asks: Which crime will get a stuffer sentence?

a. embezzling $5,000,000
b. stealing a doughnut.

In case you made the mistake of using common sense to gauge your answer, I’ll include the answer; it’s b: stealing a doughnut. A man pinched a doughnut. This was shoplifting, but pushing a shop worker in the process turned the incident into armed robbery. That would normally have netted a 5-15 year sentence, but a prior record could bring a sentence of 30 years to life.

The million-dollar embezzler, on the other hand, an Enron conspirator pled guilty to helping himself to more than 5 million. This landed a 6-year sentence but good behavior could shave off 2 years.

If you are interested in reading more about The Angry Brigade, I recommend Anarchy in the UK: The Angry Brigade by Tom Vague and The Angry Brigade: The Cause and The Case. Britain’s First Urban Guerilla Group by Gordon Carr.
 

Against All Odds: Animal Liberation 1972-1986 by J.J. Roberts

“If vivisection was against the interests of the ruling class they would abolish it very quickly, either by the use of their legislative powers, or more quickly by decisions made at Board meetings. Commercial forms of animal abuse such as vivisection and factory framing are in the financial interests of the ruling class, and bloodsports are an essential part of their social fabric. The parliamentary campaign is in fact asking us to petition the ruling class to act against their own best interest.”

At around 118 pages, Against All Odds: Animal Liberation 1972-1986 by J.J. Roberts traces the Animal Liberation movement during its crucial formative years. Focusing on Britain, the book (which takes the form of a thick booklet) is an overview of the landmark events that took place during this period. Additionally, the book examines tactics that worked, tactics that failed and argues that by 1984, the animal liberation movement “enjoyed widespread public support.” And of course, with this statement, we have to ask where did all that public support go? Was it lost or hijacked and can it be reclaimed?

The author argues that vivisection has always created “people who have taken direct action against it,” but that in 1972, some of those in the Hunt Saboteurs Association “decided to embark on a campaign of direct action against vehicles and other property used by the hunt.” This led to the formation of The Band of Mercy–a group that led raids on fox hunting kennels. But by 1973, the Band of Mercy expanded their activities to include other forms of animal abuse. The arrest and imprisonment of activists caused the Band of Mercy to cease, but by 1976 “ALF was born with the remnants of the Band of Mercy.” The author states that these early ALF years did not at first involve economic sabotage or arson.

The 80s saw the formation and growth of a number of regional Animal Liberation Leagues (NALL, SEALL). Tracing the formation, activities and eventual destruction of the various regional Animal Liberation Leagues, the book covers a fascinating history of direct action. What’s so fascinating here is the realization that NALL (Northern Animal Liberation League) policy was to “involve as many people as possible in campaigns to expose the animal abuse to the public.” And this, the author argues allowed NALL to “portray themselves as public guardians.” Describing NALL tactics, the book points out that “the raid itself was a means to an end, not an end in itself.” With minimum damage to gain entry, NALL raided numerous laboratories to gather evidence of animal abuse. It’s incredible in today’s political climate to imagine the sort of 400 person strong, nationally coordinated raid that NALL conducted. However, the author argues that failure to “maintain an active core of experienced members” led the NALL to strategic failures and their eventual demise. And one of NALL’s biggest mistakes was to fail to organize a defence campaign for those arrested and facing lengthy political trials.

While NALL had some great successes (evidenced by the widespread approval of NALL amongst the British public and the sheer numbers of those participating in the raids), the book argues that by 1983, the NALL’s policy to seize and expose evidence was “already dated theory.” In one SEALL (South East Animal Liberation League) raid for example, “none of the research papers ever surfaced to be used against” the laboratories in question–thus making the tactics of raid, seize and expose meaningless. In fact, it seems that the police adapted over the years to ‘deal’ with the raids, and this brought down arrests and lengthy conspiracy trials against raid participants. In some cases, those just protesting outside of the laboratories were summarily rounded up and arrested and lumped together in these conspiracy trials along with those who were found in the labs. As a result, massive arrests led to the SEALL’s “decision to move away from the chaos of mass action.”

For anyone interested in the subjects of Animal Liberation, this modest appearing booklet makes for a fascinating read. Charting the major actions against some of the most notorious labs, the ugly prolonged trials of activists (including the Trial of the Wickham 19), we see exactly how Animal Liberation morphed into new configurations–shaped by necessity, the legal system and the political climate. In 1984, the year in which the “Animal Liberation movement enjoyed widespread public support” activists “staged mass raids” at six animal research labs. As a result, more than 80 people were charged, and by 1986, 24 people–sentenced to a cumulative 41 years went to prison for their roles in an Eastern Animal Liberation League “anti-vivisection raid on the Unilever’s …research laboratory at Bedford.” The disastrous Unilever raid and its repercussions “may be viewed as a turning point where the animal liberation movement temporarily abandoned the attempt to build a mass movement and turned towards the militancy of the few.”

Also covered are the subjects of militancy, the impotency of parliamentary action, and decentralized structure vs. centralized organization. The author discusses some of the tactics used by various groups: including property destruction and Contamination. While the author notes that Contamination as a tactic can be vastly successful in terms of economic sabotage, the cost when considering antagonizing public opinion is far too high. Indeed the booklet cites the example of Sinn Fein’s use of violence and argues that although Sinn Fein warned police of planted incendiary devices, these warnings were not always passed on to the public. Hence, according to the author, for anyone even considering the use of violent or potentially life-threatening tactics (arson, explosive devices, contamination, etc), it’s simply not intelligent to put the police in the equation if you are counting on warning away the public because you may very well create a highly damaging PR event in which certain things are expendable.

Possibly the single most astonishing fact here is that Animal Liberation groups gathered conclusive evidence that pet/companion dogs and cats were stolen and fed into laboratories for experiments. Makes you wonder about all those dogs and cats that supposedly vanish from the planet every year, doesn’t it? Especially since vivisection labs are not exactly open to public scrutiny….

Available at: www.akpress.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

A Dime’s Worth of Difference: Beyond the Lesser of Two Evils ed.by Alexander Cockburn and Jeffrey St. Clair

“Something was very rotten”

A Dime’s Worth of Difference: Beyond the Lesser of Two Evils edited by Counterpunch writers Alexander Cockburn and Jeffrey St Clair is an excellent collection of 23 essays focusing on “the decay of the American political system.” With such topics as the presidential elections, Clinton, Karl Rove, John McCain, Jesse Jackson, the defense budget, and the so-called ‘War on Drugs’, the essays systematically strip away the notions that there’s much to choose from between the two political parties–the Democrats and the Republicans. Editor and essay contributor, Alexander Cockburn wonders exactly why there’s so much fuss over the elections, and why elections “rouse expectations far in excess of what they actually deserve.”

A Dime’s Worth of Difference was published prior to the November ‘04 election, and some Americans still imagined that John Kerry had a snowball’s chance in hell of winning the presidency. But according to the authors, “on the calendar of standard-issue American politics” there’s a “relentlessly shrinking menu.” The 2004 election came down to the selection of a “lesser of two evils”, and this is more a sad comment on the political process in the country than the glittering ratification the ‘winning’ administration seems to imagine it deserves.

There’s something to offend just about everyone in this collection–the right, the left, and the stuck-in-the-middles. Here we read about the candidates for the 2004 election–Bush, the man whose “genes and education turned into a Mendelian stew of all that’s worst and most vulgar” and Kerry “who offers himself up mainly as a more competent manager of the Bush agenda.” Other essays examine Clinton’s presidency, the relationship between the government and the oil industry, & poverty in America. One fascinating section of a co-written essay “War on the Poor” from Cockburn and St Clair examines the role of Dick Morris and the ratings mania during Clinton’s presidency emanating from the “neuro-psychological profile” of the typical American voter. Another essay tackles the formidable Karl Rove. One of Rove’s nicknames may be “turdblossom”, but it’s clear he’s a fierce adversary with “the intuitive facility for adducing that single, simple idea that would win the most people to your side.”

Contributor Josh Frank’s essay, “The Slick Swindler: Senator Max Baucus”(D-Montana) is a very personal account of the gradual disillusionment experienced by the author, a Montana resident. Other essays explore the friendships between odd couples, such as Senator John McCain and S&L “fraudster” Charles Keating, and DNC Chairman Terry McAuliffe and IBEW pension fund (or ‘How to Invest $100 and make 2.45 Million’). In addition, Marc Racicot (R-former gov. of Montana), Paul Wellstone (D-Minnesota), Rick Santorum (R-Pennsylvania), Ron Wyden (D-Oregon) are all subjects of scrutiny and analysis.

Special mention for Cockburn and St Clair’s illuminating essay, “Bipartisan Origins of the War on Drugs.” This essay examines the government’s attitude and policies since the 50s towards the trade of illegal narcotics. The authors cite the 1986 Anti-Drug Abuse Act which passed 29 new minimum mandatory sentences, creating a minimum sentence of 5 years in the federal pen for possession of 5 grams of crack–while there is no mandatory sentence for powdered cocaine under 500 grams. This, according to the authors, creates a “100:1 sentencing ratio” between crack and cocaine. Well so much for the ‘war’ on drugs. The essay finishes with a nice statistical breakdown of the racial breakdown of those in prison for drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into slightly less than 300 pages, and an index in the back helps keep track of it all.

Pit Sense Versus the State: A History of Militant Miners in the Doncaster Area by David John Douglass

“Trade unionism is the enemy of the real unity of the proletariat which rears its violent head every time the masses of individuals band together against work, against forced unemployment, and against being policed, bossed about and insulted by two-faced functionaries.”

The slim volume Pit Sense versus the State: A History of Militant Miners in the Doncaster Area, written by David John Douglass, the National Union of Miners (NUM) branch delegate at Hatfield Main Colliery, is an overview of the miners’ strike of 1984-85. The book includes additional background material (pre-and post 84-85) to place the miners’ strike in the relevant context of its time. The author argues that while other accounts exist of this period, Pit Sense Versus the State is written partially to burst some of the myths propagated about the strike.

The book isn’t a memoir. Written over nine chapters, this is an account of the strike–how it began, how it continued and how it ultimately ended. Douglass mainly charts the strike through the union actions. Chapters include: Extract from the Picket Log, The Strike Co-ordinating Committee, and Area Executive Meetings. We see which strategies worked, which didn’t, and some of the bitter infighting that occurred before the strike ended. A major point of contention became whether or not those sacked for strike activities should be reinstated as part of any agreements made.

There are some great moments here. Hatfield miner, Purvis, for example, was charged with the “serious offence” of “an act likely to cause disaffection among the police force” when he asked three policeman: “Why don’t you join us and rule yourselves?” That little speech got Purvis three months hard labour and a fine of 100 pounds from a magistrate who judged Purvis was a man of “extreme opinions.”

The book also includes charts from the years 1939-1946 showing the number of labour disputes in Britain during those years, and how many of those disputes were in the coal industry. With the numbers fluctuating from 37.6%-60.3%, it’s easy to see why the miners and their unions were targeted for destruction by Thatcher’s government. Douglass states “the government had called in a no-holds barred contest….it was our social ideology and vanguard position in the working class as a whole which they were out to defeat, not just defeat but bury, as a warning to any others who would dare contrast our values against theirs.” Indeed Douglass argues that the destruction of the Miners’ union effectively “destroy [ed] a cornerstone of the whole labour movement.” While the author is quite clear that the miners’ strike was part of the class war, he also is clear that not all those within the union felt the same way: there were some “loud supporters of Law and Order” who saw the police as “upholders of a system they themselves believe[d] in. The confrontations seemed to be evidence of a class war they had long ago convinced themselves didn’t exist. The confrontations were a living evidence of extra-parliamentary action when they had set their eyes on parliament as the only means of redress for all wrongs.”

Douglass describes how the miners planned a “guerilla type campaign in which diversity and decentralization was a strength.” And through some clever planning, and in spite of spies and infiltrators, the Home Office was kept guessing as to exactly where to send the largest contingent of police to face the picket lines. But divisions within the union soon reared, and inevitably this weakened and ended the strike. While there were some (including the author) who were prepared to go all the way to ensure that those sacked for strike activities were reinstated, there were many who didn’t think it was their problem. Douglass includes a final statement on unions–the good and bad side of organizations that “become bureaucratic, conservative and obstructive” and argues that unions are organizations that “May not take us as far as we want to go….but in many cases we can take it as far as it will go, at which point we’ll adapt it or change it for something else.”

In spite of the fact that Douglass includes NO personal information about himself in these pages, his character seeps through, and while he ends the book on an optimistic note, a sense of his disappointment for what happened to the miners and the pits is inescapable.

The book includes a glossary, and it comes in useful. A cast of characters (and the positions they held) would not have been amiss here.

Phoenix Press
112 pages

The Walsall Anarchists: Trapped by the Police-The Truth About the Walsall Plot by David Nicoll

“One would have thought that the address of a gentleman who has repeatedly incited people to use dynamite, who supplied a young boy with the materials for explosives, and got up a conspiracy for which men have been sentenced to a long term of penal servitude would be of consequence to the police.”

The 26-page pamphlet The Walsall Anarchists: Trapped by the Police –The Truth About the Walsall Plot is written by anarchist David Nicoll and published by the Kate Sharpley Library. This is just one of the pamphlets Nicoll wrote regarding the Walsall Anarchists–an infamous case involving an agent provocateur that took place in late 19th century London.

Nicoll relates how a man named Auguste Coulon arrived in London in 1890 and proceeded to infiltrate anarchist circles. The details of Coulon’s past are a bit vague, and he had no visible means of support. Right from the start, he claimed to be an anarchist and appeared to have an obsession with dynamite. After he became an assistant to Louise Michel, Coulon seemed to possess appropriate anarchist/revolutionary credentials, and members of various anarchist groups trusted him.

Coulon was constantly writing in anarchist journals about “good old dynamite” and when he wasn’t writing about it, he was urging its use in the manufacture of bombs. Nicoll became so disgusted over Coulon’s “celebrating the blowing up of a cow in Belgium as a great and revolutionary act” that a breach erupted between the two men. This was probably a lucky thing for Nicoll. Shortly afterwards, the so-called ‘Walsall conspiracy’ led to the arrests and imprisonments of four anarchists for various activities. Curiously, Coulon was never arrested. In fact, Coulon seemed amazingly affluent after the trial and somehow even managed to maintain two households.

This is a short and simple tale of the classic agent provocateur in action. There were ample warning signs of Coulon’s true intentions: His rabid enthusiasm for dynamite, his constant harping on the need for violence, and the fact that he mysteriously had the means to carry on these activities. Why didn’t people sniff out Coulon’s nefarious intentions? Probably because the four anarchists who were eventually jailed (Deakin, Charles, Cailes and Batolla) labored under the misconception that Coulon was as deeply involved as they were. Little did they realize that as a paid police informant, Coulon led the anarchists down the garden path–all the way to jail–while he was completely free from prosecution and amply rewarded for his services.

This pamphlet is available from our very own Kate Sharpley Library.