This week, we’re sharing words from anarchist, author, organizer and former participant in the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation Army, Ashanti Omowali Alston, in the keynote address at the 2024 Another Carolina Anarchist Bookfair in so-called Asheville. The presentation was entitled “Solidarity, Spirituality and Liberatory Promise on a Turtle’s Back”. You can support Ashanti’s GoFundMe here.

From the ACAB website:

Trusting in solidarity, the mysterium of spirituality, and a promise from god knows where—a “where” that at this historical moment, might just be Palestine. What does it mean TO BE in the midst of all this right now? RIGHT NOW!

Ashanti Alston is a revolutionary Black nationalist, anarchist, abolitionist, speaker, writer, elder motivator. A long-time member of The Jericho Movement, he is presently an advisory board member of the National Jericho Movement and co-founding board member of the Center for Grassroots Organizing (Vermont land project). He continues giving talks and writing inspirational analyses concerning the dismantling of the myriad oppressive regimes in which we find ourselves enmeshed.

Ashanti is one of the few former members of the Black Panther Party who identifies as an anarchist in the tradition of ancestor Kuwasi Balagoon (BPP & BLA). He developed abolitionist politics in the early years of Critical Resistance. He has helped save the life of a baby pig with animal liberationists, learned depth-queer politics from being challenged, and wants to see non-ego eldership partaking through sincerely loving the younger generations who truly want to ‘CARRY IT ON.”

You can find other recordings from the 2024 ACABookfair at acabookfair.noblogs.org.

Transcription

Cindy Milstein: I’m Cindy. I want to really welcome everybody here on behalf of the ACAB Bookfair. It is such a joy and pleasure and delight for us to organize this and then have so many incredibly amazing people show up in one place. Why does this have to just be three days? It’s also beautiful how everybody has been really helping, so I want to thank everybody who’s done so much this weekend to make this weekend happen and to get here and to be here. Thank you, everyone, really. Welcome.

I wasn’t planning to introduce Ashanti, but I actually feel delighted. I used to see Ashanti a lot, and we used to be involved in anarchist summer schools together and other projects together. We did a lot together. We saw each other a lot and feel like dear friends. Then, I don’t think we’ve seen each other for 12 years or so, and it feels super powerful to be together again with friends and Ashanti. I’ve always really appreciated him. I keep saying “sweetheart, sweetheart.” I’m an older anarchist too, and It’s really nice to be around in this multi-generational space with someone who’s so humble and able to still see possibility, able to still see that we need to be in this for the long haul and be together no matter where we are with our anarchism.

Ashanti has had a long, illustrious career being a revolutionary and a radical, starting as a teenager with the Black Panthers, moving into the Black Liberation Army, with the State trying to contain and destroy Ashanti, and Ashanti not letting them do that, and coming out and being involved with the Jericho political prisoner support movement, among other things. And is also a parent. Okay, so enough of me. I’m gonna let Ashanti speak, and then we’ll do some Q&A afterward.

Ashanti: Okay, I’m not sure. I might sit down. I don’t know, man. I’m not used to the sitting down thing. Well, first of all, thank you for the introduction. It has been years, and it’s just been so good to reconnect. So a lot of times when you know that we’ve all been through so much, then you start seeing some of your old comrades, man, that kind of lifts your spirits up. Right on. But I need you to work with me right now, because I still got a few butterflies going here, right? So, back in them days, Black Panther Party, you know, when we said “Power to the people,” the response was always, “All power to the people.” All power to the people. So I want you to, like, help me to release these revolutionary butterflies out into your midst with your response: Power to the people.

Audience: All power to the people!

Ashanti: Power to the people.

Audience: All power to the people!

Ashanti: One more time. Power to the people.

Audience: All power to the people!

Ashanti: I see them. I see them. Alright. Now, it is clear. I said “to the people.” I did not say to the preachers, to the politicians, to them profiteers. To the people. That’s also my anarchist analysis of The Black Panther Party. It wasn’t an anarchist group, but there was so much about it that helped move me towards anarchism, anti-authoritarian thinkings and practices because the experience in the party taught me the dangers of authoritarianism, even when it was coming from good places. You know? We want to liberate our people. We want to help make a revolution in the United States, but then what happens when you got an ideology and a structure that so much resembles the ideology and structure of what you fighting, with just different words.

Then the FBI and the counterintelligence program and local police is able to feed in on your own internalized, colonial dynamics: the sexisms, the egos, and all them other things. Next thing you know we’re fighting each other. Movements are collapsing. There’s attacks on chapters. There’s comrades getting framed on charges. Others had to take off, going into exile. Others like Fred Hampton and those killed in their beds. It’s a dangerous struggle, but the fact is, that I and others have survived… And I’m 70 now, you know. My knees feel it more, so I accept the elder thing now, right? I’m an elder. So at least I have opportunities to share with you, those things that I hope will be helpful. In this particular case, when I say to you, because this is an anarchist gathering, and I’ve just been so excited since coming here Thursday to return to a spirit of “we going to make this happen.”

That’s, that’s an anarchist spirit to me, because the other folks I’m talking to are still trying to figure out “How are we going to indoctrinate people in the community to do the right thing?” You’re talking about, “How can we create the liberatory programs right now with the knowledges that we are learning right now, that we know we will learn more tomorrow, and put it into all kinds of experimental practices?” That’s where it’s at. That it is not the ideological approach that just says “We got this all laid out. We got it laid out. You just gotta follow this. No, they did it in China. No, they did it in Cuba. They did it in Africa.” No, they didn’t. No, they didn’t.
If anybody listening was at Modibo’s talk… and Modibo, I think, is my elder. Modibo is like in his early 80s? And just to say this about him, also, it was such an honor for me to finally meet him in person. He’s been around longer than I have been doing this, and still believes in his 80s that we can change the world in very anti-authoritarian ways. Every workshop that I was able to attend today just reaffirms for me the same thing. When I went to the harm reduction one, because I couldn’t get into yours, it was so packed [speaking to another presenter]

This harm reduction is all new to me, because I feel like I’ve been out of it for a long time. I finally been able to say easily: depression. The depression comes when I feel like, “Man, is a generation going to take this, or are they going to get bamboozled and buy into this madness again?” And when I do that and isolate myself, I get depressed. I sit and do nothing. The years go by. The years go by. Then miraculous things happen. You know? One of them was Seattle, way back. Another one was the Zapatista movement, right? The latest one is what? Who would have thought with what’s going on in occupied Palestine, that the international resistance would be at this level? I’ve never seen anything like it in my 70 years. So it makes me feel like, “Well, Ashanti, you need to get back in there. Get back in there.” You know? And I feel like in the last year, there’s been things happening that have allowed me to feel like I can still be in there and just give it my best. You know? In the process, I am learning so much, from the social media stuff, which I always thought was quite crazy. But then I realize it also has us watching, by minute, the genocide going on over there. It’s allowing us to connect, to increase our resistance, the demonstrations, what we’re doing on the campuses. Oh my god, it’s not over. It’s. Not. Over. So I want to share that with you, because I’m like, “I’m back in. I am here,” and I thank you for the way you have invited me here.

All right. The title I chose was—I don’t know why I choose these. I try to do these fancy titles—“Solidarity, Spirituality and the Liberatory Promise on a Turtle’s Back.” Y’all know what I’m talking about with a turtle, right? The Turtle? Turtle Island, right? I wanted us to think of images. So I would go on the internet and I would put in “on the back of the turtle”, and I put in “civilization on the back of a turtle.” I wanted the images that would show this turtle. Aang was a great help for me, I should tell you. And the particular scene where he’s talking to the lion turtle.

I wanted to imagine in my mind what it means for indigenous folks who have a certain mythology around Turtle Island, and what it meant for Aang to have this conversation with the turtle, to get this wisdom. What does it mean for those who… We can be so scientific. We can just lop that off as, oh, “That’s myths. That’s folk tales. That means nothing.” But what does it mean to those for who that is their culture, and they get their wisdom from these stories? What happened to the role of stories? You know, not everything has to be so scientific. For us, as it helps to focus on the plight of indigenous folks in this country, let’s look at what it means that Turtle Island, before the European conquest, had its ways of living. Then here comes the conquest, and they start building on top of the back of the turtle. Just moving, removing whatever was there, the villages, the agricultural scenes and whatever. Now, you are chopping down trees, you are blowing up mountains, you are digging deep into the earth, and you start to build the United States, or this North American empire, on the back.

I wanted to be able to envision our role as, “How can we get this empire off the back of the turtle?” It can only happen with mass social movements that we become that can opener that just starts cranking around this turtle. And at some point we just gonna flip this motherf*cker off into the galaxy. So that we might begin to really create them lives we know we deserve. We know. We want to live better. What I like about the fact that we are anarchists is that our visions tend to be that imaginative. Our practices tend to be that daring and risky. That’s why I think we have such an important role to play, because a lot of other folks are just dealing with such old ideas, not critiquing them. Old practices, not looking at them to see how destructive or poisonous they can be. Settler colonialism is one thing to say, but what happens when you look at internalized colonialism? What does it look like as we’ve been here and it has seeped all in our behaviors, our bodies? That means that we have got to fight this battle on different level. Different levels.

What happens in solidarity a lot of times, even just in a simple way, is how do we look at each other as we go down the street sometime or knock on the neighbor’s door? How do we look at each other? From saying, “Hey, neighbor, how you doing?” Was it last night or night before the neighbors where I’m staying had lost the cat. They lost the cat. So they’re like, “Well, let’s exchange numbers, and if we see the cat, we help you and return the cat.” Is that not solidarity? Mutual aid? You hear what happened to the indigenous folks—this was me with Wounded Knee—and you want to figure out, “Well, how do you help the folks in Wounded Knee?” Attica jumps off and being that I’m in New York/New Jersey at the time, there’s folks like, “Well, we got to figure out how to get up there and help them prisoners in rebellion.” The act of doing those things has the potential to not only really aid them but to change you in ways that you may not have even expected. That is amazing. It is an amazing way to be in the world where that kind of surprise is allowed to happen in your life.

There’s a story that some of you may know from reading Assata Shakur’s autobiography, when she talks about her grandmother. She had, I don’t know if it’s a phone conversation or a grandmother came to see her. Her grandmother’s this religious woman, and the grandmother is like—she called her Joanne, I’m sure. And she’s like, “Joanne, I had a dream last night, and in that dream, you had got free!” I’m sure Assata and them at the time was plotting anyhow, but that coming from grandma, from that place… I’m sure Assata ain’t trying to do no scientific analysis with her grandmama telling her. She knows her grandma’s a spiritual woman. Take it for what it’s worth. What happens eventually, maybe within the next month, is Assata is free. Those kind of acts of solidarity… because this was an integrated underground team. It was not only Black Liberation Army, it was Weather Underground and others, some with no organization, who came together in solidarity to free Assata Shakur. I bring that up so that it’s not just all in, “We’re going to change. We’re going to evolve. We’re going to become new.” Sometimes it’s in the very physical acts of freeing somebody from one of the most oppressive situations you can be in. In that process, every one of them involved in that process was affected by it in some really great, humanizing ways when it was successful. We in a struggle that we gotta be open to what we do on the every day in our organizing and how we how we relate to people, how we meet people, how we make love, how we talk to folk, how we get up, how we get down means something.

One of the most craziest things, I think, for people to get is that our oppression is really deep and on many levels, but one of the ways to deal with the internalized part is that you got to seek joy. Sometimes it sounds crazy. How can you seek joy when there’s so much suffering? Because that joy is the most powerful way to combat the internalized oppression that you’ve been carrying. And this is what I learned from the years in prison, from reading all the radical psychologies and the different things like that. You got to return to something that for many sounds, “Oh, that’s kind of wishy washy,” but no Martin Luther King said it’s the most powerful force in the universe, love. At first, when I read that from him in prison, I’m like, “Oh, Martin, you always talking that love.” But I’m also reading books on love, from Erich Fromm to others. And I’m like, oh, I get or at least I’m getting it. Looking at what we’ve been through, I’m like, I don’t want to repeat those same things when I get out, and I want to be with folks, like-minded and like-hearted folks, when I get out so that we are trying to create new ways of making this transformation of society happen, that includes our transformation in the process, that does not leave it up to some future time when we done overcame the capitalist class. That is such bullsh*t. I use bullsh*t because I heard my other comrades use bullsh*t. [Audience laughs]
But, those things become very, very important. So when I get the opportunities to share, those are things I want to share. When we was dealing with the Palestine presentation earlier, on the resistance, what lessons can we learn? I’m already feeling like, “oh man, this is a hard thing to convey to folks, that we may be in struggles where people are really going to get hurt.” I think of that young one, [Tortugita], who I’m sure did not have any idea [they were] going to end [their] life there, right? And many others who have been in or who go to jail for one day and get bailed out, but that might be the most traumatic experience they have ever had, and they’re going to need help. So in our formations, we have got to work into what we do, how we learn: collective care, community care, self-care. It is one of the most powerful ways for us to deal with the internalized stuff, as we’re dealing with these mega systems of oppression that we’re going to meet. How are we going to change with each other?

I had one question yesterday around what happens when someone is physically or sexually harmed within the movement. It happens. I think I shared one example of back in our days when that has happened and we didn’t necessarily have the best methods, but it at least let me know that we need to have more understandings. Harm reduction, more understandings. When someone is hurt deep inside, there are folks now who can help us on them levels to help those individuals to kind of recover. Otherwise, we kind of push them to the side.

One of the new words I’ve learned this year is neurodivergency. [Audience cheers] Now for me, that is so exciting. For one, it’s like what the fu*k is neurodivergency? Because it came up in this gathering, so I know when I’m going home, I’m getting right on the laptop, and I’m looking it up. Looking it up gives me an understanding of something that can be so important in our movement so we stop isolating folks who don’t fit the norm. How do we do that? We’re the inclusive ones. We’re the ones who include. We’re the ones at least make them efforts. It’s always a struggle, but we make them efforts. For me to have that understanding also allowed me to look back on on folks who I may have avoided… because what? They sound a little crazy? They talked a little crazy? They moved a little crazy? Like “oh… oh, okay, I’m going to change that.” So I know that when I have times to talk, I want to bring that up. At least from me because I know that I got some social capital being Ashanti from the Black Panther Party, the Black Liberation Army. I done did all this prison time. Nothing compared with what Mumia is doing now. I put all that perspective. It ain’t nothing. But the things that help us to change within, for me, is still primary.
The incident in the library. I’m just gonna be brief, but I’m like, “Oh, these my childrens here.” Okay. I know I could just sit back, because they got this. They got this. But it’s like, we’re the ones who are at least willing to stand and fight. Not in the macho sense that we just going to fight. We got an understanding with it. We know that everything we do has a much larger and deeper picture, because the world we want is much larger and deeper. It’s that Octavia Butlerian world. It’s them type of science fiction worlds, right? That’s why I think that imagination part becomes so important. We cannot be locked down. We don’t lock ourselves down, you know? Because in this struggle, we do need everything. We need everybody.

As a Black revolutionary and one who, I’m very clear—I call myself a revolutionary nationalist, but I also say that you got to go beyond nationalism. One of the reasons for the “beyond” is because I know old school Black Nationalism excluded women, excluded queer folks. But I understand the power of it. The thoughts of what brings Black people together. Even if we say “Black Nation”, even if we say “Black Liberation”. We know it’s talking about our community, but I know that my role is to make sure that we’re being inclusive in our circles. So I’m constantly telling you, especially young Black folks, that those who are speaking in our behalf—because, you know, anarchists don’t play “you speaking on our behalf”. You don’t do that. But in our circles, we need to be the ones to speak up and say, “Uh-uh, we ain’t all on that page.” If you’re going to talk about our people. You talking about us too, and we’re playing a part in this, as you are. Maybe you might be the one who has to move out. In the ’60s, too, there was a point where there was a saying, “Move on over or we’ll move all over you.” That point may have come again in the Black Movement, as we speak.

I’m using this as an example, because, as we do all the things we do in our localities and our homes, in our private lives, we got to keep in mind, just like I do, that people somewhere, everywhere, always are trying to raise the stakes, are trying to break out of the box. When I don’t remind myself is when I go into depression. My friends get on me. They say, “You’re watching too much CNN, too much MSNBC, or that station”. So I got to keep reminding myself, “No, remember Seattle? Remember the Zapatistas? Remember the uprising with George Floyd?” Oh no, I got to remember. I got to remind myself. I’m telling you that as an elder now. I got to keep reminding myself. You got to keep reminding yourself that all over people are doing things that will really confirm and affirm that we can make this revolution, insurrectionary change happen. [Audience cheers]

So I’m not sure. At some point I’m gonna see if I can play something. When I do it, I’m gonna put the microphone up to give you an example of what I’m saying. There’s times when I’m sitting at home and my wife would say, “I’m sending you something.” I don’t know if it’s Tiktok or… I don’t know them things. But it was this brother at a meeting with other Black folks. And I’ll stop there for a minute. I have been in my own head searching for what ways could those of us in the Black community confront those male-ist, sexist, heterosexist folks in the Black community who are really impediments to our liberation and participation in the broader movements. And I’m like, “man, we have got to confront these folks!” I could not find words, and then my wife sends me something. This brother’s at a meeting, and he just lets these other folks—Black folks in the meeting, all black—he lets them have it. He’s telling them that, “You can’t accept the leadership of Black women and Black queers because of who they having sex with?” He just lets them have it and challenges them. He says, “their leadership seems to be calculated. They’re there for me when I can’t be there for myself because the police is shooting me and throwing me in prison, and you telling me you concerned with who they having sex with?” I’m like, “this is the language I’ve been looking for!” Because sometimes you have got to do that even amongst your own neighborhood, your own community. You got to kind of let folks know that, “no, this has to stop. I am here. This has to stop.”

So all these things become really important, even if they seem insignificant in an isolated way. They’re really not. We are the ones that are really putting out visions of ways that we can be in this land mass, beyond empire, respecting that this is Indigenous land. We are the ones that are really putting forth that we need to have hard conversations. We are the ones who are saying, “Hey, right now, them folks who are using needles over there, they need some help. Right now them folks that are in prison over there, they need some help. Right now these children are not getting a proper education. We need to be able to help them.” Immediate stuff. But every immediate stuff has broader, deeper visions going on. We have got to keep that in mind. Keep it in mind.

So the last few days—I know tomorrow, I’m here tomorrow. I am still on the cloud. I don’t know if you can tell. It just confirms and affirms to me that it ain’t over. Y’all make me so proud. [Audience claps] So proud.

I’m not necessarily going to be long, but I wanted to talk about the promise, the liberatory promise, which basically comes down to this: in a religious way, you could call it the covenant. In a legal way, you could call it a promise, but in a spiritual way it can also be like your ancestors. You know that your ancestors did the best they could for you, and when you give them thought, it is really like drawing from them that they wanted the best for you. Your spirituality may be telling you that, “Yo”—and this is that covenant, right?—“if you do these things, if you believe in yourself, if you believe in the people, then we’ll win. This land can change.” It’s passed on from generation to generation. In the Black Movement, we talk, probably to this day, about the promised land. It all comes from the Bible. The promised land. We ain’t got to the Promised Land yet, but I think it’s because of the situation we’re in. We were kidnapped, put in that ship and brought here. We can’t even call Africa the promised land. It may, it may have to be here. It’s got to be here in dialog with our indigenous folks, but we ain’t got nowhere else to go. We’re not immigrants. The Chicanos, they’re not immigrants. The Indigenous folks are not immigrants. We’re not immigrants. We came here in the most horrible way, but this ain’t been home to us yet. So the promise is that together, we can create the vision of what a home for all of us could be on the kind of liberatory basis that really allows for, like that Zapatista thing, a world where many worlds exist. Them kind of imaginative visionings, we still have to do that. We have to do that, probably more important than any thing else, to know why we engage in the most minute actions or behaviors.

So I’m going to see if I can play this. If I can get it, I have to put it up to the microphone. The reason I’m playing it is because I want to see my peoples pull it together. You see the election thing going on now, you got all these Uncle Tom collaborating Black folks that’s going to do everything they can to pull us back into this monster’s grip. Even with militant rhetoric. That’s an Al Sharpton, right? But when you got others on the ground having these other conversations, they give you an indication that whatever those are saying in the media, listen to the conversations that are going on on the ground level, in the communities. That might give you more of an insight of the level of resistance and the potential of more resistance.

I think Modibo [Kadalie] was saying that also with his presentation. He’s telling you the books that him and Andrew [Zonneveld] have written are dealing with the resistance going back to the 1500s when they brought the first Africans over, how they had to resist in very intimate, direct, democratic ways. Modibo brought up at the end that they didn’t write these books for people to just know the historical explanations that they’re putting out, but for us to see that even as we live now, there are people who are engaging in direct democracy, and sometimes we just need the vision to see it and to know how to support that. Which is why, again, we are not the vanguard. We just really trying to help ourselves and others to see how we can already do this and just bring the streams together. So as I go, I’m gonna try to get this. I ain’t the best at this. My computer is not the fastest. Everybody’s alright so far? [Audience cheers]

While I’m doing this too, just in New York last month. I went to New York. I’m in Rhode Island. Two of our comrades had passed. Sekou Odinga, who was Black Panther Party, Black Liberation Army. One of those, when they set up the international chapter in the Black Panther Party in Algiers, they was meeting all these different liberation movements, including the Palestinian Liberation Organization, the PFLP and stuff. And Sekou and others was part of those who went to training camps run by the Palestinians to learn guerrilla warfare and to bring them skills back here. So there’s stories like that. Some of them people didn’t even know until the memorial, because some of that was shared. But then there’s also Greg Thomas, professor in Massachusetts. He did a book on George Jackson, who was at certain point in California prisons, he was the revolutionary organizer. At one point, was incorporated into the Black Panther Party, but then they killed his brother who was trying to help free him one year, then he made an escape attempt and they killed him. When they raided his cell and took out everything from his cell, he had two handwritten poems. One of them was called “Enemy of the Sun.” When it was put out, a lot of people thought that he wrote it, but then in some research, they realized that no, it was from a well known Palestinian poet who, at the time, was in prison. But it was the impact that the Black Panther Party and the Palestinian Liberation Movement had on each other. So again, you never know how events in the world are going to impact you. Okay, I’m getting back to this.
[Video Clip]

“…just shot dead in the street? Guess who’s not on the front lines? [Inaudible] Black women and gay men are running. So if you sit here and tell me that you can’t follow leadership from a gay man or Black woman, to be honest, you p*ssy. Because if you can’t take somebody who’s way more, far more calculated to run this because of who they decide to have sex with, I’m worried about who you’re trying to have sex with. What is your issue? If they gay. It has nothing to do with you. If they a woman has nothing to do with you. Let them lead. They trying to make sure we not shot no more. You not doing it. You not doing it. I can’t do it. A lot of us can’t do it. Why we f*cked up? If we come into contact with the police, we’re going to jail. So when they out here, and they putting [inaudible] f*cking life on the line, when they really dying. There’s an astronomical number of Black women dead for no reason. A number of gay, trans people dying. Guess what color they are? They Black. So just saying, ‘I can’t get behind that because you gay.’ F*ck outta here. Get behind them and shut up or stay at home.”
[crowd applause]

Ashanti: So I share that because you never know what helps you to keep them spirits up. Or sometimes you just could be down in the dumps and you’re like, “Are we gonna pull this together?” and it could be something as simple as that. It could be you hearing a poem. It could be you just watching a couple walking down the street with a child. Those things that feed that spirit in you for more, for better, for freedom. When I hear that, then I know that things I was concerned with, even in the Black community, that lets me know it’s already happening. Even in the different struggles that we represent in here, you should have a sense that what you’re doing is already part of 1,000 other efforts and work being done. We just need to see it. It’d be great if we can figure out more ways to connect what’s already happening. The revolution, that insurrectionary impulse is there. People want better. So we gotta see it, and we gotta believe it. We gotta believe it.

So I’mma leave it there, because if there are questions I would definitely take them. But to know you… You’re beautiful. You are the ones—and you allow me to be a part of this—that is on the forefront of changing this world. Y’all are doing this, and I’m glad that there’s that inter-generational thing that we can do now too, because I’m so glad. We cut the older generation off. We were too angry. You can’t be up in your anger all the time, but the fact that we can do this in an inter-generational way means a lot as well. We can give you what we can. We don’t need to be your leaders, but we can give you what we can and help you, especially to believe that we can win. We can win. Power to the people.

Audience: All power to the people! [Applause]

Ashanti: Right on, right on. Okay, so do we want to do it? If they want to. I might sit down for that.

Question 1: I work at a liquor store that’s very small, and most of us are queer and trans. We’re trying to maintain a culture of mask wearing among employees, and we interact with a lot of customers who have seen that as being almost a direct threat to their being, and we have seen a little bit of escalation of discomfort, especially in older generations as a result. What would be your advice when interacting with these people on a day to day basis, often every day, to help make them feel included and empowered to do that for them. And thank you. Thank you so much.

Cindy Milstein: Anarchism in action. We want to do a couple more questions, and then Ashanti can respond. Anyone else feel like coming up and saying something?

Question 2: As someone who’s been on the receiving end of some of the worst that our prison state/police state has to offer, what would your advice be for people who are in conflict with the police as part of the struggle and for people who are currently incarcerated?

Question 3: I wanted to ask what ways you cultivate joy in your life that have worked over and over for you throughout the years, no matter what you’ve had to face.

Question 4: There’s been a Black trans movement that has run parallel historically to a lot of sort of like Black liberationist struggles, and I feel like Black trans people have historically been relegated to specific margins of those movements. What do you make of this parallel track that has historically existed but is so often forgotten and removed from Black revolutionary history, and how do we even conceptualize a future Black trans resistance if we can’t even begin to conceptualize this past one?

Ashanti: [Responding to question 4] A big part of my responsibility is because—and I hate to say this—but of those from the Panther Party, I think I might be one of the few who will even bring up the fact that our movements still exclude women and don’t want to hear nothing about queer, trans, nothing. And I’m like, “Well, if you give me the platform, I’m going to tell you that you need to. And either way it’s going to happen, if you’re talking about Black people.” I did that at the Black Radical Conference in Atlanta. I think it was this year. Because I am tired of it. And tired of it, knowing that as a young revolutionary, I participated in it. Not knowing any better, I participated. But once I know, then that’s got to come to an end. Sometimes when you feel you’re speaking out for the first times, I knew it took some courage for me like, “Nope. I’mma do it, and then I’m going to do it every time after that.” We have to challenge our people. That’s one reasons I wanted to show that there, because it’s happening even when I didn’t even know it was happening.

I just felt like a lot of trans/queer in our communities, just pretty much said, “No f*ck them man. I’ve been hurt from family and others so much I don’t even care.” I know that that doesn’t work for us, but I know that we have to be very careful with it. Because we have to still move as a people. So at least as a Panther, I know I’mma speak on it. But then I’m always on internet and listening to others who also speak on and then I’m reaching out. I want us to create more ways to be together, so that our voice becomes heard and our power gets to be felt. In this sense, yeah, we need power. And this other thing. I don’t even know if I can—I say “we” a lot when I’m talking about trans and queer community. I’m a cis male. I don’t even know if I can do that. I don’t even know if I’m supposed to ask for permission, but that’s the revolutionary community I want to be a part of. You understand? [Audience cheering] So I know that we have to do that battle, and I’m hoping that I still will meet more folks and we figure out ways to communicate.

So I know the other one… Give it to me again.

Audience Member: [Repeats Question 2]

Ashanti: Conflict with the police or in the prison system. We know that we always going to confront the police. They are the front line troops. In the Panther Party we called them “the occupying army”, and it made sense to those of us who needed to see that to begin to understand their role. In the heady days, you might find yourself confronting the police in the street and in the prisons. Sometimes you also learn some wisdom and know that you ain’t got to confront all the time and throw a punch to their jaw all the time. Maybe there’s other ways you can do it, especially depending on what the situation is. I was just telling my comrade who will be a father, “when a child is in the family, that means you ain’t making decisions for you anymore. You making decisions for the family. If you’re part of an organization, you’ve also got to understand you ain’t making decisions for you. You also considering the organization. It requires a certain kind of discipline.” There’s still the trauma that you’re going to get from these people. I think that’s harm reduction too. As much as you can avoid having them kind of direct traumatic experiences, you do. If you on a road by yourself and they pull you over, man, don’t start calling them pigs and all that, “Mother f*cker, why you pulling me over?” No. Just say “Okay officer. Here’s my sh*t. Okay, give me the ticket. See you later.”

You want to live. You want to survive to fight another day. The ones who are doing time in there. They learn very quick, you got to learn how to get around these people for your sanity, for your survival. Then at that point, if you ever make the parole board, you want to be able to give your best little performance. You got to do that sometimes. It’s a survival skill, but it’s also constantly recognizing the police is the police. Whether they in the prisons, they on the street, whether they got the uniform, going to Vietnam, other places, they’re still playing the police role. You understand that they’re part of the system that’s got to change, Anti-police, anti-prison system, all that is my concept of Abolition. That whole thing gotta go.

The other one was joy. And then there’s one after that. [Responding to question 3] Here’s what I do. The last few days: Easy. I got joy. This is the easy one. I got joy, and I know that I need to keep putting myself in situations of joy like this more. I think it’s been part of the problem that I’ve been isolating, and I feel like it’s been for years and years. Stop isolating. Get amongst them folks. I say like-minded and like-hearted because feeling like I’m amongst people that want to make this thing happen, it keeps my spirits up. Sometimes, at home it’s putting on music. I’m from Plainfield, New Jersey, the land of Parliament-Funkadelic. I might have Parliament-Funkadelic blasting sometimes, walking the dog up and down the neighborhood. Let me tell about the neighborhood. Barrington is the suburb of Providence. Barrington is pretty white. I don’t know what my neighbors think when I’m playing the music. I don’t put them earplugs, and I want to hear the music. I’m bopping as I’m walking the dog, and I’m sure the neighbors like, “What is he doing?” But the music brings up things for me. It was them good times. Parliament-Funkadelic, Temptations, Stevie Wonder, the jazz players. Sometimes I put on “Compared to What.” I don’t know if you’re familiar with it. Yes! Those things keep my spirits up.

Going to church. I’m back in church. A little thing about my church: it’s a Hebrew Israelite church. Not the people with the buckles and the outfits and stuff, just regular folks. It comes out of the Black experience, so it might seem like regular Black gospel, regular church, but we have our rituals which are different from Rabbinic and other stuff. But man, when you go there and you hear the singing and there’s times when you’re getting up and there’s a marching thing, right? To me, the marching thing is like, “that’s that marching thing. We at war. Hold up that banner. Don’t let the banner fall.” It means a lot to me. I need that community. I need them kind of visuals. I understand that the visuals are from a language we don’t use anymore, but I understand it. It helps me to know that I’m still in this battle. So going to church is the thing, too. And then connecting with my comrades, my old comrades, whether on the phone or sometimes it might be a memorial. It’s those moments when we’re together that we know we’ve been through something that not others will quite understand. And they may not get when we laughing over something we done did and we hope nobody ever knows. We know we’ve been through hell, but we came out still with some level of humanity and an ability to laugh about it.

Those are the kind of things now and then with the kids. My oldest is 50 and 49, then I got married again, so it’s a 14 year old an 11 year old. Their friends think I’m granddaddy, and they then my kids got said, “No, that’s dad. That’s my Baba”. But anyhow, watching them grow, like my son, who’s 14, big afro, and he’s into track and field. I’m watching this body grow. He’s got this little hairline coming. Joy that I’m still here to be able to see it because I did not think I was going to make it past 20. Did not think so. I’m 50 years over that. But being able to watch them, it’s them kind of moments of joy. And that’s the kind of thing that I want for us all. Moments of joy are precious. We have got to know that we need them. And for moments when you gotta sometimes take off—you’re going to the beach, you’re going on a hiking trip, whatever. Do it! Do it because it is you building a resistance against the sh*t that we face. Joy, and you’re changing in the process. So I’m really big on that now, and I think I’ve been in a good space now for maybe the last year for a long time. And I plan on staying. [Audience cheers] So I know there was one more, the first one?

Audience Member: [Repeats Question 1]

Ashanti: I think we need to figure out have how to have better conversations with folks who we know they’re not necessarily on the same page as us. One of mines was around probably 10, 15, years ago—being at anarchist spaces and you start hearing the pronoun thing, and I ain’t understand it then. But even as I did, I’m like, if I who make an effort to understand it find it difficult, because I gotta remember—My memory ain’t the best. What about other folks in the communities that just don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about? They might come into a meeting out of curiosity, and you giving them vibes because they ain’t calling you by the pronoun you wanted, you got an attitude and you’re actually showing it to them. I want you to have some compassion for those of us who are older. It may take a minute, but we try, those of us who try. Others who don’t try, you may just want to put it like, “I got a limit. If you can’t handle that, maybe we don’t need to talk, whatever.” But people are going to get it because you’ve been pushing it, and others have been pushing it, and the children have been pushing it. My daughter, especially the one at 11, she she already has a sense of who she is.

It’s going to get better, but there’s got to be some compassion. The resistance is not from a mean spirit. It’s just like, “What the hell is this?” And you talking about someone who physically looks like female has a different way to define themselves. Some folks are like, “What the hell?” The Rush Limbaugh folks are all on this. That’s why they’re saying “We’ve got to get Trump in office.” They are really on this thing of trans and queer and gay. Which is another reason why, if Trump should get in, we need to figure out how we’re going to support each other. Because we know some of the things Trump will do that a Biden may not do as fast. But we know that, you know, on the issues of gay and queer, there’s going to be some things that Congress may not pass that kind of makes it easier. It’s just like alternatives to abortion. We already should be thinking—I’m sure we are—about what we can do if certain things happen. We’re going to take care of ourselves and possibly show others that they can do the same. Because the State is the State. The Empire is the Empire.
Do you have any more? I could if you want [answer more questions]. I always like the this part, because I know people going to ask some direct stuff that they want to know or share.

Question 5: So many faces… First of all, thank you. Your contribution to the struggle is like innumerable and immense. I oftentimes find myself returning to your words in times of intense despair, and I just want to thank you so much for that. I came from so-called Chicago, where Stateville prison is planned to be torn down and replaced with a reformative, so-called rehabilitative prison instead. Someone inside also passed away this past weekend from a heat wave that affected him and had he had an asthma attack and died. So I just want to ask, knowing the death trap that prison is, how do you think that we can be in more material solidarity and support of people inside, beyond book packing, letter writing and phone zaps and all that type of stuff, especially knowing that folks inside are this wellspring of revolutionary, insurrectionary knowledge and practice?

Ashanti: The prison issue and the political prisoner issues are some of the hardest issues to get our communities to take on. As a member of the Jericho Movement, Jericho fights for the freedom of political prisoners in the United States. Man, we’ve been doing this for decades. Even just getting the folks in the community to listen to us that they are political prisoners, that they’ve been in there for decades. They’re the same ones, many times, who the politicians got them voting for more police, more prison construction or better… even if they say in better prison, no one is talking about abolition. It seemed like at some point that abolition was gaining some ground. I don’t know if that’s still the case, but I still think we need to work at that. We got to put ourselves in situations where we have more face-to-face with key figures in the community. When I say key figures, I don’t necessarily mean the politicians. Maybe sometimes the preachers, maybe the deacons and deaconesses, maybe and the regular folks or folks who are at the community centers and possibly even the street organizations. I think that we don’t do the face-to-face anymore, and I think because of that, we’re not developing a better way of presenting the kind of narrative that might get folks to understand why we need to intervene and what’s going on in the prisons, why we need to get our political prisoners free. There’s all kind of things.

It’s the most difficult area that I have ever worked in. There’s not been many joyous moments. My comrade Veronza Bowers just got out several months ago, after 40 something years. There ain’t no recognition about who he is, his contributions, nothing. When Dhoruba bin Wahad got out, there was a little recognition. When Jalil Muntaqim got out after almost 50 years, there’s no recognition. But every decade, every year he was in there, we was fighting for his release and going to as many different venues to speak about political prisoners. Reverend Joy Powell is in upstate New York prison now. No one knows about her. Reverend Joy Powell is one of them who has stories similar to Malcolm X when he was Detroit Red. That was Reverend Joy Powell at one time, and then she changed. She became a minister I think in Rochester, New York or somewhere upstate. She’s fighting against police brutality, next thing you know, they done got her jammed up on something, and she’s doing I don’t know how many years in upstate as a New York political prisoner.
So it’s hard, but I think the challenge is for us to find a different narrative and to start going into communities and having actual conversation with, I say, key folks. They might say “influencers” today, maybe on certain levels. I’m not big on the social media with that, but to be able to sit down with folks and say, “Hey, you know the situation we’ve been in. You know that there’s people going to come forth and fight back or try to lead us or raise consciousness. Why are they sitting in prison?” In the women’s prison, men’s prisons, there is such a clamp down that even me trying to stay up on it now, I can’t imagine how that would be for me. I just did total 14 years, but what I hear they’re doing now? That’s to drive you insane. You don’t even get the actual letters anymore. You might get a visit, and there’s the screen, if they do come up. You’re so far away, you may not get a visit. And it’s the same thing inside. The way that they talk to you, treat you, it’s like you’re an animal. So it’s a big order. Even on that, I don’t have no immediate answers, but I always go to [that] we don’t have them kind of conversations in the community no more. We need to start trying to build grassroots movements from the bottom by having them conversations.

A lot of times, the street organizations can’t get too involved because they already got records, and the slightest violation they got, then they right back in. So it even makes it harder. But what they’re doing in the prisons—and they’re expanding—we will be that open air prison like Gaza and all these situations now. The ways that they are laying down their technologies of control. It ain’t just the prisons anymore. I feel like it’s the welfare. I don’t even think they call it welfare no more. You got to go to court for all kind of fines, your car fine, your house fine, or they’re getting ready to do all these other things. They got us under such control. The Internet got us under such control. The cameras on the corners. The things that fly, [drones]. So it feels like it’s closing in, and it keeps closing. And we gotta figure out more how to break out of them confinements and get the people to see, man, we can’t keep wasting time, because it’ll get to the point where we can’t even breathe without their permission. So we strike out. Anarchists, we know what to do, so… I wish I had more to give you.

Question 6: Thank you so much. I’ve written down part of a question because we’ve had other comrades ask for advice when dealing with physical conflictuality with the state. And you’ve also spoken about times when, if you’re alone in the car at night, where strategic de-escalation might be something that you approach. We call that a version of a harm reductive approach. This has come up in conversation. I also relate to what you’re saying about this kind of disorientation and difficulty remembering the lessons that you’ve learned and other people have taught you sometimes at these very tense, fight or flight moments. So I’m wondering if you have some lessons that you can put into the collective consciousness. What might go through your mind in a moment where you’re choosing between this crossroads? Not to create a duality between moments of intentional escalation and otherwise.

Ashanti: Just real quick on that. I did share with somebody today. There was times I’ve been in demonstrations, marches, and the police start really getting out of hand. There was one time where they was really being abusive to this elder Black woman. And I can’t take that. I can’t stand and watch that. So I see myself walking. But the younger comrades, I had already told them about me in this sense: When you see me in that zone, all I need you to do, stand in front of me, make me look you in the eye. That’s all. Just say “Ashanti.” Because I know, and they know, I’m getting ready to jump on this mother f*cker. So imagine how I felt when I’m watching George Floyd. I am so angry at the people around him. I understand they scared, but you just stood there and watched them kill this Black man to his last breath. There’s times where you gotta really chill out. You gotta consider who’s around you. You gotta consider the repercussions of your own actions. So you can’t just snap like that. And if you folks, who you’re close to know you, they know what to do. And I would give them young folks permission, “Y’all know. Get in front of me. Get in front of me.” And I think a part of that why I don’t have no fears, because from the Panthers to the BLA, I learned to take them on. I learned that, oh, they can be just as scared as anybody else. But the thing is to think, just think about it. That’s why it’s important for when you let people know you, know your limitations. It becomes really important. That’s that’s why it’s really great when we can share our stories with each other. So folks know who you are, what you’ve been through, so some things don’t trigger you.

In the Panther Party—and this is around sexual abuse—a lot of times there was sexual abuse in the Black Panther Party, but even more, we didn’t know who was sexually abused before they even joined the Black Panther Party. You do certain things, and it’s a trigger. So me now, we need to know each other, but that calls for trust too. That’s cause for that kind of vulnerability, that you say, “I need to share with you that when you do this or you say that, it’s a trigger. I need to feel safe. I need to feel like it matters to me what you do and how it’s going to impact me.” That’s what we have to do more. It can’t be no side thought. It has to be fully integrated into how we’re raising ourselves. So, the thing with what do you do in them situations. Do you fight? Sometimes you do. Do you stand back? Sometimes you do. Do you think as much as possible who’s around you, who needs to be safe around you? That mother and the child that’s close by you, is it possible that they could get hurt? Just things to think about. So it ain’t just the macho thing. You think about it. And imagine them situations even beforehand, because sometimes that helps you to make snap judgments when it actually happens.

Question 7: So one of the questions I had is regarding “influencer” people, like how social capital affects the way that we organize sometimes, where people that are very influential in a place, because they’re more outspoken, or they know the right words to say and therefore can get into positions of more influence in anarchist circles. For example, in the Panther Party, like Huey or whoever, like people that get in those leadership like roles. How do we combat that? Sometimes it’s subtle. I’ve seen it in anarchist circles where it happens, but it’s not an actual leader. They don’t have a chairman or a title. Yet they’re able to move people around situations sometimes and therefore have more influence or bully other people. You see this sometimes. People don’t know how to approach this, especially when a person is of a certain identity as well or like goes through this specific struggle, and just finding a way of dealing with that.

And then another thing kind of adding to what you were saying about agitation. As an anarchist, my approach was always to agitate. Anywhere you go at the beginning, we hold the sign and we stayed on the sidewalk where it’s legal. But it’s “blah,” right? What can we do because normally, historically, anarchism has been agitative, right? You go to places, we’re known for doing the rowdy sh*t. So I was just wondering, like expanding on that a little bit.

Ashanti: I think we should stay rowdy. I think we should stay rowdy. [Audience cheers] But on the other level, now we can we talk about interpersonal relationships within the group and why it’s important to have some things you agree upon in terms of how you’re going to function with each other. What we’re trying to do in Providence now, we’re putting together community center, but the first retreat we just had was just laying down things as simple as: how do you want to be treated in the organization, how do you want your relationship to be with others, how do you want to make decisions, how do you want to deal with issues of egos and and the authoritarian? Because it ain’t like anarchists are free of all this. We got all these tendencies. We’re in this society. But I still think to this day, we’re more likely to at least be willing to talk about it and try to struggle against it. I think other folks it’s not even on their agendas. That’s so-called movement folks.

There’s a lot of information out here now, readings that people can do that helps us to see why it’s important for us to get to know each other and for us to create the kind of practices that helps us to minimize the tendencies of the bully, the sexist, the one who’s super submissive that has never known anything else but possibly listening to a man. We know that these are some of the internalized oppressions that we have to deal with. So let’s learn them. And there’s a lot of people that do trainings in them. There’s a lot of books out on it, and we are reading people, man. You know. I say that because I’m reading things all the time, because I know the internal stuff is really the thing that killed us in the Panther Party. The FBI just knew how to manipulate it.

So what do we do? We develop those capacities to help us to evolve, to get to better places. From our stories—our stories are so different. Each one is unique, but we gotta know it. It helps if we can get to the point to be honest and vulnerable, to share with the trust that ain’t nobody going to abuse what you just shared with them, that they will work with you, you and others will work together, to be better as a human being and what you do as an organizational member. It’s a struggle, so that’s why we ain’t bringing this thing down without, at the same time, getting it out of us. It’s got to be the same. You can’t do one without the other. That was that New Age stuff: “Oh, we just gonna free ourselves,” and no consideration about the mega-oppressions. We got to do both. The more that we do it, I think the better we can get. And I think it helps us also, we get better with each other when we see in the community, folks who have similar things. We got a little bit of experience and wisdom in how to help others in the community that don’t have this experience to know how to get to a better place. They want to join the group. They see things.

One quick example: One of the things that helped with Critical Resistance, because Critical Resistance was pretty much run by anarchists and anti-authoritarians, the ways that we did meetings, was always to get the men to not talk so much and to step back and to use the board to be inclusive on everybody’s input. Some people who had no political experience, when they saw that, like, “They really want, my opinion? It’s going up on the board?” That blew their minds, because no other time had that happened to them. It was us saying, “No, we are all important, and we all want to be included.” I’m telling you, it was us who were putting them examples forward. So we got to continue to do things like that.

I thank you for being patient. If I said anything rambling or whatnot, you can blame it on Cindy. But this has been great. This has been good. Let’s leave from here with that spirit, that spirit that we can change. We got ancestors. We got folks who we are building off of them. We know that this can happen, that what the United States is now can be no more.

Our dreams. Our dreams up. Our dreams up. Let’s make it happen. Power to the people, one last time.

Audience: All power to the people!

From: The Final Straw Radio Podcast

https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/post/2024/09/02/ashanti-omowali-alston-solidarity-spirituality-and-liberatory-promise-on-a-turtles-back/

#anarchist #ashantiAlston #bla #bpp #northAmerica

2024 Keynote Address – Another Carolina Anarchist Bookfair

Ashanti Alston is a Black Anarchist revolutionary, speaker, writer, organizer, and motivator who, as a result of his membership in both the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense and the Black Liberation Army, served a total of 14 years as a political prisoner and prisoner-of-war. He is currently on the Steering Committee of the National Jericho Movement to free U.S. political prisoners.

Ashanti is in the process of moving into his own apartment and needs some temporary help. So some of us who organize with Ashanti are fundraising to renovate the apartment he’s going to move into to elder-friendly, long-term housing. Our elders have sacrificed so much. It is our duty, those of us inspired by and trying to build revolutionary movements today, to make sure our elders are taken care of! We also simply love this incredibly sweet and strong person and want him to have what he needs. We’re hoping to raise $20,000 for the renovations. If you can’t afford to donate, please pass the message on to your friends and comrades (or share on social media). No amount is too small! Thank you for helping us.

Funds will go to Building Circle, a local construction cooperative that will be renovating the apartment.

Donate: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-ashanti-alston

https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/post/2024/08/23/support-ashanti-alston/

#anarchist #ashantiAlston #bla #bpp #fundraiser #northAmerica

Donate to Support Ashanti Alston!, organized by Eli Hadley

Support Ashanti Alston!! Ashanti Alston is a Black Anarchist revolutionary, speaker, writer, or… Eli Hadley needs your support for Support Ashanti Alston!

gofundme.com

This interview is with social movement veterans who have sacrificed much, and learned a great deal, in trying to change the world. Each in their own way have gained valuable insights into the personal, interpersonal, and structural dynamics at play when confronting established power and have essential lessons to convey to those newly radicalized. The interview was conducted in 2024 for Perspectives on Anarchist Theory, by collective member Paul Messersmith-Glavin.

 

Paul Messersmith-Glavin: Tell us about yourselves, in particular, how were you first politically radicalized?

Ashanti Alston: Born, Michael Alston. Plainfield, New Jersey, 1954. Just this February, I celebrated the big 7-0. I’m an official elder now.

I came of age in that period of the sixties when there was the Civil Rights movement and the Black Power movement, which was the key moment for me. I was a Black teenager understanding that there were people fighting for our freedom in the Civil Rights movement. And then here comes the Black Power movement and the rebellions of ’67 all over the United States.

Plainfield is a small town that’s racially divided like so many other places. But what was unique about what happened there was that Black folks had got hold of arms from a gun manufacturing plant, including crates of M-1 rifles. So, during the rebellions part of the Plainfield Black community in the West End was actually liberated for at least seven days. Even as this thirteen-year-old, I understood the importance of the movement and felt connection to it. This was serious and way different from Martin Luther King Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement.

The main rebellion was about a mile from the projects where I lived as a child. We could often hear the gunshots. Then one day there was a black car in front of the house and on the top of it in white letters was “Black Power.” And the guy in the car was giving out goods to people. That struck me, because I heard the term “Black Power,” but this was so bold. I understood the Civil Rights movement, but I didn’t know if I could deal with getting water-hosed down the street, spat on, called “nigger” in my face and just taking it. I wanted to fight back. So, this was my entry.

I don’t even think I had turned fourteen yet. And I wasn’t much of a reader at that point, but now I wanted to read! The Malcolm X autobiography. The stories of Stokely Carmichael and H. Rap Brown. I wanted to go find out about them. Then when school started back up, others were also interested in fighting back. In junior high school there was no Black history. So, there was a coordinated effort to walk out of the two junior high schools and the high school and to march down to City Hall to demand it. And enough of us came out, so that when the next school year started, we had Black history.

That showed me that there was this powerful unity if we organized. We could make demands and have them met. The rebellion after that lasted a week. When the armored cars came in from the National Guard, they regained control. But it didn’t stop us. The was a community center down the street and folks were in there and they’re talking, organizing, strategizing. I was just so excited, especially to see folks from the areas that I grew up who I looked up to in getting involved.

Eventually, I found out about the Black Panther Party and my friend’s father took us all over to the different offices—from Newark, Jersey City, to Brooklyn and Harlem—to learn what we could do. So, we went to the political education classes and learned the terminologies; this revolution the Panthers were talking about required study, engagement in the community, and organizing. It was different from the spontaneous rebellions. It was more like the organizing when we demanded Black history; you had to have a sustained view and understand that this is a long-term struggle against the system.

Most of us who formed that chapter were high school students and active inside the high school where the rebellion took place. It was in that same area that we did most of our outreach—speaking with folks, selling the Panther paper, and at a certain point starting a storefront and a free clothing program. So, here we are, learning how to work amongst the people in this Panther style . . . Every time I look back at it, I’m like, “Oh my God, we were so young, but we were so ready!”

We had so many folks helping us learn the different things involved with carrying out revolutionary struggle. And it was great because coming out of the Black Power ideology, I didn’t have too much love for white folks. But the Panthers always remembered they’re human beings, too, and had relationships with so many different people. They were nationalists, but revolutionary nationalists and didn’t just chop white folks off because they’re white. It all depends on their practice.

So, it helped me to challenge some of my own limitations and to open up to what this new ideology was telling me about struggle, the history of struggles, the possibility of winning, believing in ourselves, and organizing from below. That carried me for a long time, even up into prison.

Helia Rasti: I was born in Tehran, Iran in 1980. That was at the start of an eight-year war between Iran and Iraq, on the heels of a revolution that ousted a dynasty, the last Shah of Iran. It was part of a popular uprising that brought in theocratic Islamists and started over four decades of Islamist rule.

I was born into a solidly middle-class family. My parents were really scared of having to raise a daughter in the growing patriarchal environment and decided to leave as did many at that time. This was very difficult for them because they loved Iran and didn’t want to go but felt forced to. We were able to attain resident status in Germany and I lived there from age five to ten. Being a foreigner in Germany is not easy and my parents (who are both well-educated) wanted access to better opportunities like they had in Iran. So, they left Germany the first chance they could and came to the United States—the “land of opportunity.”

I was ten years old when we moved to California and had no idea about the political environment and the history of oppression, genocide, enslavement, and exploitation that the US is founded on. I think a lot of immigrants come here seeking better opportunities because whatever they left behind was so grim. And then you come here and you’re like, “whoa.” Even though I was raised with this backdrop of intense political activity and very strong anti-imperialist sentiments, I was clueless. But I could just tell this is not right. Something is not right.

I’ve always been sensitive and empathic. And I knew that despite being an immigrant, being a brown child who experienced racism, I could still always seek out love and support from my parents. But I remember encountering figures about how every five minutes a girl or a woman is raped, and feeling, “Wow, I’ve been really protected.” So, I felt it was important for me to step up for people who were more vulnerable and for voices that were being silenced.

I grew up in the Bay Area and, after high school, I went to Humboldt State in Northern California. I’ve always been drawn to nature. I was a biology major initially and I learned about Native American history, the exploitative nature of industrial capitalism, and that Native people are still around and have been resisting genocide and erasure for all these years. I also learned about different resistance movements by listening to lecture series like Michael Parenti who broke down imperialism and Marxism, US foreign policy, and how the CIA and the United States played a huge part in destroying the fabric of different cultures. And, in my country, how they stood against democratic movements to support regimes to access resources for more global power.

I was sitting with all that in the late 90s when the anti-WTO, anti-corporate, globalization movements emerged. I was on the periphery of this, but learning. And then September 11th happened, and I was just like this is it. Ward Churchill wrote this essay about the chicken coming home to roost and I was feeling, “Oh, of course, this is going to come back to us to us. The United States is going to reap the repercussions of its global policies.” I got on the phone with my mom all excited about this and she said, “What are you saying? You’re going to get in trouble, you’re Iranian!” But I still felt these were historic times and decided that I had to leave the forest. I realize now it was a spiritual journey that led me to take on political action. It was my love for life, for the earth, for people. This is what kept me seeking out different answers when faced with the contradictions that are presented to us in society . . . So, I came home to the Bay as I realized my work was there and transferred to San Francisco State.

Within the first week of school there were student organizations tabling, including a Students for Peace group that did gorilla theater. I got in and became really involved with them. At the time we were organizing these huge demonstrations against the bombing of Afghanistan, and it was already clear that they were gearing up to start invading Iraq. I was a part of this mass movement; hundreds of thousands of people, millions of people globally, crying out against war.

That became my world. I spent all my time at school organizing and eventually dropped all my classes because that’s the only thing that mattered to me. I then became a part of this woman’s center that was helping to open up space for coalition building. San Francisco State has a very radical history, but since the time of the sixties and seventies, the administration has built all these guards and policies against student activism. So, we were organizing this coalition, bringing together different organizations like Ethnic Studies, the Black Student Union, and different cultural groups. We were also doing that with City College.

Eventually I dropped out of school and started doing organizing work full-time. I got involved with the Not in Our Name movement and Direct Action to Stop the War, focusing on street blockades and holding war profiteers accountable by going to them and shutting down their operations. I was especially jiving with these queer anarcho-punx doing public blockades and shutdowns. And it was like the work became my life. It’s the thing that kept me going. It felt like, this is what I was brought here for.

So, I continued to seek to deepen my understanding of what the work really was. And it was Critical Resistance that really helped to do so, especially with learning about abolition and how prison industrial abolition was a way to build against the state. At the time, I was doing environmental justice work, focusing on shutting down power plants. But I continued to encounter contradictions within organizing communities and felt I needed to do something else. I needed to figure out what my role was and not necessarily as a public or professional organizer. Again, I was always driven by my spirituality and my love. Rose Braz was a mentor of mine—what an immense, powerful woman and organizer she is—and I sought her out about some of these contradictions. And she said, “You know, you feel called to heal and you’re doing this medicine work; we need more abolitionists, more radicals to do that work. If you feel like that’s where life is taking you, go for it!” So, I did. I left the Bay and came to Portland to study natural medicine. Now I’m licensed as a clinician. But my love is still very much for the earth, for people, and dismantling obstacles to our collective liberation to allow for our ability to just live.

P M-G: You both have decades of political consciousness and organizing experience. Retrospectively, what are your biggest takeaways? What lessons have you learned that you’d want to pass on to someone just getting involved in social change work?

AA:  I’ve been around for a while and when I’m speaking with young folks, I want to make sure I’m giving the best advice and encouragement that I can because I still believe that we can change this world. The thing is, you want to make sure, no matter what you have been through—the ups, the downs, the things that work, things that didn’t work—to be as honest as you can about it. When I look back on the early years—the Black Power movement to the Panthers, even up to the prison experience—then I get to see, “Oh, we could have been better in this area or that area.” The time I spent in prison was a lot of that looking back period for me. Before that it was 24/7 revolutionary work . . . not a lot of time for reflection.

But now I’m there in prison and thinking about what happened: “Why am I here? Why are so many of the comrades now in prison?” I wanted to know where we went wrong, why we lost, why the counter-intelligence program was eventually successful, and how to avoid making the mistakes again. And I got access to other readings. You know, in my head I’m still this Panther. A Marxist-Leninist. Maoist even. But the Critical Theory crew, from Eric Fromm to Herbert Marcuse and others; they had some different analysis about these revolutionary struggles that wasn’t the canon of Stalin. Then I started reading not only the critical theory, but other radicals. And, at some point, little bits and pieces of the anarchism started getting in there. These different perspectives allowed me to really think about the way we saw this struggle. What we (the Panthers) had believed was revolutionary in a sense, but with some limitations. It wasn’t great how we saw the struggles of women; it wasn’t great how we saw internalized oppression . . . Our own behaviors also contributed to our downfall. A lot of people don’t want to hear that, especially your comrades. But if you want to win, then you’ve got to let that ego shit go and say, “Where else might we have done better?” And that’s where the critical theories and anarchism and radical feminism began to help me to see things differently.

So, I want young people to understand revolution from a very personal perspective. How is it really going to impact you? What is it really opening you up to? Like, who’s Ashanti as a part of this? I’m still a part of this heterosexist, evil society and it’s been a part of my peoples’ struggle for the last 400 years. There’s no way that I can deny that. The shit of this system is also a part of me. In this struggle, it’s on two fronts; it’s not only the larger system, but also what it looks like inside of us. I want young people to see what their own connection is to this system is and to see their possibilities.

The best thing that really helped me to see this was when I started reading about anarchism. Now, not only do I want to be the best anti-sexist, but I want to open myself up to how life expresses itself. I joke about it at times when I say that when I first came out of prison I wanted to work with Love and Rage folks, but they had these spiked hair styles and I was like, “What the fuck is this?” But another part of me wanted to learn; “I don’t care how crazy they look. I want to learn.” And it showed me that there’s all kinds of folks who are oppressed by this society and who want out from under that oppression. If their lives don’t match mine, that’s okay.

The Zapatistas have that idea, too; a world where many worlds exist. Our lives are very diverse, and we all want our liberation. We just have to figure out how it’s going to work in this monstrous, US imperialist empire. So, Black folks’ struggle takes on particular characteristics, but it’s not divorced from all the other struggles—the Chicanos, the Indigenous folks, the Puerto Rican independence movement, the workers, the environmentalist movement, Palestine. It’s never simple, but it’s doable.

H.R.: I’d say never stop questioning; question your questions. Get with mentors, but also make sure that your mentors hold space for questioning and grapple with those questions with you. Recognize that you are a part of something immense. The Earth is all about life and death is a part of it, right? You are a part of something so much greater and when you take steps towards that collective health and life and love, you’re bringing with you something so much deeper. Trust that. The ongoing genocides around the world, that’s real. But the little steps that you are a part of, the little acts of kindness and love and the ways that you are showing up in support of community and life. That’s real, too. Movements are about cultivating and nourishing life as steps towards collective liberation. That is a part of that picture, too. It’s important to have this perspective that goes back and forth between the local and the global. So, continue to get involved, but don’t lose sight of your own care and holding that deep sacred space within you to stay in alignment with the goodness of life.

P M-G: Where should those of us who are dedicated to transforming society be putting our energies? And what role do you see collective care and nurturance playing in sustaining radical social movements?

H.R: We can’t be human without our connection to other humans. We’re social creatures. We’re part of a community of life that’s not just human. So, understanding your role in terms of community within that greater scheme of life, of ecological life, is important. And building these connections is so important because industrial culture has severed our connection to nature. But nature is what makes us human. We learn what it means to be human by learning from the earth. That’s something I’ve learned from Indigenous movements, writers, and activists.

It’s hard because we internalize oppression, which can be a toxin that is spread through community. And yet, community is an extended family and an extended circle of love. So, you can choose how to build community and how to engage with it. If it weren’t for my communal ties with the people who have come before me who I’m still connecting with, who inspire me, I wouldn’t be here. They keep me going. It’s hard though, and I know for me, sometimes I need to retreat in times to find my connection and to continue to show up. I need to have good boundaries and some guard up. We need to have collectively permeable boundaries. There’s a difference between having a wall, which is a tool of war, versus boundaries, which are important and healthy for life. Finding that balance is essential, especially now in a time of pandemics. I see the coronavirus as an expression of an ecological crisis. We’re going to continue to see viral storms take shape and we need to understand this balance.

A.A.: People in this struggle need to understand that this is long term. You have to have a place within you that you go to with all that you’re going to experience being in this struggle. Because it’s tough.

I just came back from an indigenous retreat in Texas at a sweat lodge that’s women led. I watched the process of building that lodge and what became so important for me was how everything they did had purpose and intentionality. This helps us to see all that is sacred. There are some important lessons in there, whether you’re Marxist, an anarchist, or just a rebel who wants change. This is still Turtle Island to Indigenous folks. And I think our objective is really to figure out how to pry this empire off the back of the Turtle so that we can all be fucking free!

What we went through back in the sixties and seventies, we got too scientific, and we missed out some things that are really about our humanity. A lot of the revolutions we put on a pedestal for being successful—like the Russian Revolution, the Cuban Revolution—but they end up recreating some other form of oppressive society. Part of anarchism for me is to be open. So, we have to figure out how to nurture the spiritual as a source of power in this struggle. It reminds me of in the days of the People’s Revolutionary Constitutional Convention that the Panthers held in Philly in 1970, with the idea of bringing all these movements together within the Empire. To see how we can all be free.

P M-G: What advice would you give about how we should relate to each other and accept differences of opinion without condemning each other? How do we nurture a community, while engaging in collective self-care and transformation?

H.R.: Allow principles to guide our work and have space for accountability. I know I’m not going to get along with everybody and I don’t need to work closely with everybody. I don’t need to know what the nitty-gritty of that work is. If the larger structure is being maintained and bringing us together in unity and if everyone is acting in ways that are principled and towards a shared mission, I can trust that. We’re all super different and that’s a beautiful thing. We’re not always going to get along and that’s a part of the friction and tension. But we can create a lot of forward momentum from that if it’s being guided by something that is principled and shared.

A.A.: We have to figure it out as we go, but a thing that has always attracted me to anarchism—is that part about how we are with each other. This is so key to the vision we have for the world that we want. If we don’t want a sexist world, we have to practice anti-sexism within our relations. If we don’t want an ageist or ableist world, we have to practice it now . . . When we come together now, we have to practice it, and be willing to admit we make mistakes when we practice this. It doesn’t just change automatically. And this takes compassion. When we begin to accept each other with compassion, this will be easier. Then we will learn to transform these relationships.

Young folks need to know not only how to organize in the community, but how they can change themselves and have better relationships with each other, which is part of community care. That’s why transformative practices need to be incorporated into what we do. It can’t just be you got an ideology now and you think that’s it for you. Now you are the revolutionary that can change the world. No, don’t work that way. It takes courage to be vulnerable, to say, “Yo, I need some help working through my shit ‘cuz that Empire is in me . . . so we can really build authentic revolutionary relationships that can transform the world.”

But the younger generation, they want to do better than what we did. And the level of solidarity we’re seeing in Gen Z’s pro-Palestinian support, anti-genocide is blowing my mind. I can’t remember this level of solidarity even with the anti-Vietnam War. I get a sense that they want to figure out ways how to be better with each other as they’re doing their work.

P M-G: I want to get into a little bit about what y’all think about the state of radical movements today. There’s the genocide in Gaza, there’s a major election coming up in this country . . . It’s a time of change around the world. What should we be paying attention to and doing?

A.A.: Part of my concern is security state; the state of surveillance, the continuous growth of the prison industrial complex. I think those things are still closing in on us, to the point where they have the ability to know so much about what we’re doing that it limits possibilities. But the spirit of the people is greater than man’s technology. This system is constantly trying to control the possibilities of insurrection and rebellion. We’ve still got to make this happen, but with a sense of urgency because they are determined to keep this empire going for as long as they can.

H.R.: I think it’s important to do that spiritual work and recognize that we’re all connected, intertwined. It can be really easy to project onto other people tendencies you might not like about yourself. That’s why doing that shadow work is so important. Also, globally, xenophobia is a way we separate ourselves from others and say, “Oh, but I’m not like that. My ways are better.” Getting past that illusion of superiority is important. None of us have the answer. There’s hope and uncertainty and we need to go where we’ve never been. It’s scary, but on the flip side there’s a sense of awe and mystery.

I think it’s also important to focus on infrastructure, both socially and physically. Socially, I mean, in terms of all the systems of domination that keep us in place and force us into submission with the prison industrial complex and State apparatus. I think the prison industrial complex is an expression of social infrastructure. Then there’s also the physical infrastructure and how it’s being destroyed by the neoliberal scheme to divest from it. Everything is literally falling apart. But there’s also a shift that’s taking place that’s allowing us to hone in on what really matters—how we can create systems that bring us closer together to collectively build cohesion and new infrastructure that is in line with serving life as a whole. I see people playing more with ideas around ecology. That’s what de-growth is; it’s about actually shifting the economy to value life and recognition that we don’t need to continue growing, but need to grow inward, downward, back to the earth, into society and community. That makes me feel hopeful.

We should be focusing on the Earth and climate catastrophe, while creating more points of connection because things are going to continue to unravel. The Earth is going to continue to try to shock us into making some real global changes. And that doesn’t all have to be bad. If we have systems in place that enable us to take care of each other—like mutual aid—that will allow us to pull together resources locally as things start to unravel and have better plans in place. So, connect with the people who are thinking about those things, arming and strengthening themselves with the knowledge that allows us to build out of the chaos. Do that shadow work, connect with your own source energy, and trust that it’s connected to the goodness of love and life that you were born into. Move from that place. And don’t lose heart!

A.A.: We used to talk about temporary autonomous zones. That can be any time you take a moment with other people to talk with each other and interact in ways that helps you to reconnect. Just as human beings and with the earth. You’ve got to realize that you’re not just an independent activist. In this thing here, you are connected to all that that is; from history to the future or as the Indigenous folks say, “the next seven generations.” When we talk about changing the world it’s not just the oppressive structures in the name of some revolutionary rhetoric. The change is within. We are a part of shaping culture. And culture, as a practice, is changeable. It’s always changing and that’s a beautiful thing.

source: Anarchist Studies

https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/post/2024/08/04/collective-care-sustaining-social-change-interview-with-helia-rasti-and-ashanti-alston/

#anarchism #ashantiAlston #blackLiberation #blackLiberationArmy #blackPantherParty #northAmerica #us

Collective Care & Sustaining Social Change: Interview with Helia Rasti and Ashanti Alston

The Institute for Anarchist Studies

Eric King, Ashanti Alston, and Ray Luc Levasseur—all contributors to “Rattling the Cages: Oral Histories of North American Political Prisoners”—discuss their experiences with imprisonment, education behind bars, organizing with fellow inmates, and the ongoing importance of international solidarity with captured revolutionaries.

The following is a selection of the transcription from the full video conversation.

Eric King: So both of you did over a decade in prison. Ray, you did you did two decades during that time. How are you able to maintain or be a part of the struggle–either the struggle inside the prison or the struggle that you were a part of that landed you in prison–how were you able to continue and maintain that struggle if you were?

Ashanti Alston: Well, inside when we were captured in New Haven, Connecticut, there was support groups that was there for us from New York, even ones that I have been a part of and others, but at a certain point I’m underground and some of those same folks when we was in New Haven going to trial that them same defense committees was there for us during the trial and there was one local group in New Haven, which was actually a Trotskyist group that was there for us and they were really solid, really consistent, really great, and also they were the first ones to give me a much better understanding of what it was to be a Trotskyist in the movement because I think I kind of brushed it off because as the the Marxist-Leninist-Maoist, sometimes you don’t really question why do we got this thing with the Trotskyists, why is that anyhow, but they were really solid and really great supporters.

So inside, those support groups, defense groups all also help to keep you in touch with family; they would, if the family needed help to come up to see me, they would help with that process. The letter writings at that time was like really really important because, though our minds at the time during the trial was still ‘we ain’t really trying to here for the process of this trial.’ We really are looking for avenues out, but you got to kind of deal with both reality, both possibilities. You might have to do this trial and get sent or you might find an opening and you’re out of there. They provided that link that kept us hopeful with the course of the struggle.

I think I could say that folks were still carrying on the struggle in our particular case because we were captured in the midst of this expropriation. We had no illusions about getting acquitted. We were fortunate enough to have good lawyers who volunteered their services and two of them, David Rosen and Ed Dolan were also part of Erica Huggins’ and Bobby Seale’s legal defense team and so they just contacted us and said, “Hey, we’re here for you if you want it. We’re here to to defend you.” And we were like, “Well, right on.” And there was another lawyer John Williams, who also had politics.

We knew that this this was going to be a political trial, but during this time our our minds was still ‘we’re at war.’ The process of this trial was just almost like a distraction and it was the connection with the defense committees–the New York ones, the New Haven ones, and there was not a lot of support, but it still kept us connected.

We wasn’t able to get out after a few attempts. We get sentenced–it was federal charges and state charges. So for the bank expropriation, it was a five to 25 year sentence and then for because it was the shootout and two cops got hurt, it was 10 to 20 for that. And after that, they kept us separated. We was never to be in the same prison anywhere again except towards the end and in summers when one of my comrades was transferred there and for a brief period of time I had made parole, we was there at least for several months together.

What I wanted to bring up is that because our minds is still at war, I studied, I trained. My comrades studied, trained, because we had the examples of stories from Huey P. Newton and in prison, we had the stories of George Jackson, so it was almost like if you’re in the cell and here comes the guard, just making his regular rounds, we might just to to play with him pop down on the floor we knocking out 20 push-ups or whatever. Otherwise, we’re doing all the other things because we want to stay ready, that whole Stay Ready mentality. It was not depressing for me. I didn’t go through no depression. It was just the ready mentality.

I read all the time, so going off to prison, the first stop was Oxford, Wisconsin. That was the first one they sent me to because I had to do the federal time first. One of my comrades comes there, who’s down in prison in Georgia now, Kamau Sadiki. It was one of the first times that me and another comrade from the BLA was in the same prison. Same mentality we had: War. We got a brother that’s training us in kung fu and everything else and we got to do it secretly cuz you can’t do it in the open. The guards don’t play that stuff, you know.

Then, I had put in for a transfer to Lewisburg prison and eventually, I got transferred to Lewisburg because it was at least, it was the closest to home. So, Lewisburg was was one of the major maximum prisons, federal prisons, serious place, and I’m a young guy and there was a few other guys in there. We’re young, but there’s a collective there and what the collective does [is] you come into the collective of comrades from different formations, and you’re studying, you’re training, you got other folks in there, prisoners who want to be a part of that kind of revolutionary consciousness raising stuff. It’s like an easy connection still at the time because this is the mid to going into the late ’70s, so still, how can we get out of this big prison with these tall walls and everything?

Support groups kept us connected to the movements, but I will say over and over, it wasn’t like we got letters from a lot of people like the national Jericho movement and other groups will have letter writing nights and all that. We didn’t get that. We wasn’t getting money for commissary. We was just facing this situation, doing this time, looking for openings to get out. But I learned a lot there. I read and even all the times I was in and out of segregation, I’m like, “you can put me in, just give me my books.” Now, I’m reading and I’m interacting with others.

This is when I’m beginning to read the radical psychologies, the feminisms. I’m beginning to read the more in-depth histories of different struggles, like the Irish Freedom struggles with the IRA and the Philippine Hukbalahap and all this stuff, and even more in-depth Chinese Revolution, the Cuban Revolution, because comrades was still able to get books and things in, so there was books always floating around, so I’m also learning in this environment. I don’t give a damn that it’s in prison, and Sundiata Acoli would when we used to correspond–wasn’t supposed to, but we did–he would say, “turn that prison into University.” Yes, it’s all about preparing you for getting out. So that was my experience there.

But the repression inside the prison got to be really bad. This particularly fascist warden came in at a certain point. He was clamping down on a lot of stuff and I worked industry with others at the time and some things happen in industry like industry caught on fire a few times. Hey, by chance, you know, by chance. That’s what I say. But who did they come after? They came after me, a few other comrades, those others who was jailhouse lawyers. Next thing I know they swooping us up, we on the bus on our way to Marion, Illinois.

At Marion who’s one of the first persons we see who’s in general population, but they walking us to segregation uh it’s Rafael Miranda of the Puerto Rican independentistas. He’s letting us know that they already know that we’re on our way there. They had already got the word through the grapevine. Herman Bell was there, other comrades who may not be known… because Marion took the place of Alcatraz. This was supposed to be the most escape-proof prison at the time and it was so electronic…

Those political prisoners and politicized prisoners had one of the most fantastic libraries, so again I’m learning. I’m increasing my understandings of struggle and the anti-authoritarian aspects, the anarchist aspects and moving closer in that direction. I still had connection through the defense committees on some of the movements that was going on, but those numbers were dwindling because they were getting hit with a lot of repression. Safiya [Bukhari, Ashanti’s wife] and others decided to go underground because there was these grand jury searches, trying to get them on different charges of supporting other actions to help free BLA folks or political prisoners, and so wasn’t a lot of letters, wasn’t all that stuff, but we know we’re soldiers. This is what we gonna do.

From there, some of us was like the word was don’t accept general population and so some of us decide to stay in seg to force them to transfer us and they ended up transferring some of us to Lompoc, California. Who was amongst that group? Leonard Peltier… Curly Raul Estremera from the BLA, Puerto Rican BLA and others. So here we are now. Lompoc was just in the process of transferring from medium security to maximum and it was kind of a modernist place and it had fences, but they hadn’t had all the concertina wire up yet, so here we are all doing all this time. We like “man, we got to hit this fence before they get all this concertina wire up,” but in the process, we are meeting other folks, supporters from the outside and especially at this time, some revolutionary groups in California. One was called the Wellspring Collective or Tribal Thumb, which was a very anti-authoritarian group and so they would come up to visit.

So it’s like more and more I am learning different ways that people struggle and are trying to carry it on in that California area, because a lot of them politicized prisoners who was with George or out of them circles were coming out also and getting involved with grassroots organizing. So I feel like that’s always my prison experience. I gotta learn, I gotta be ready and I gotta make sure that I’m interacting with folks who are still carrying us on or figuring out ways to keep the momentum and and many of us was on that same page.

And so then Connecticut and eventually I get parole to the Connecticut state prison and I finished the second half of my sentence there and eventually get out.

Eric: Perfect, thank you, also you mentioned Tribal Thumb and someone I look up to, Bill Dunne was a member of Tribal Thumb.

Ashanti: Just to say about Bill Dunne, I believe that part of the reason he got captured, recaptured was because we needed him to help us. And so there’s a special part of me that’s always for him because, of course, he made a sacrifice for the people.

Eric: And for the people listening, if you’d like to write Bill Dunne, he is currently at the medical facility in FCI Butner.

Ray, would you like to touch on that same topic about how you maintain struggle both or either inside or outside of those movements?

Ray Luc Levasseur: Well, first of all, Bill Dunne, it would be very nice if people could write to him at Butner. I just got a letter from him a few weeks ago. He’s struggling with health issues, but he’s he’s still got the same strong spirit and good sense of humor he always has but he needs a little support, lots of support.

Briefly, we’re talking one struggle here, two parts of it, inside and outside. And I’ve always found it interesting the political prisoners on the inside always gravitate to each other no matter which movement or which organizations they come from, while the support organizations on the street seem to do a lot more squabbling with each other and can’t seem to deal with all the obstacles they need to to form a more united front around political prisoners.

Briefly, my first experience in Tennessee pen and in Brushy Mountain–it was my first prison experience and I had been politically active before I went in Southern Student Organizing Committee, but hadn’t been in the movement that long and so my my support network wasn’t that strong initially. I was able to get books and correspond with people and this is very helpful and like Ashanti pointed, political education inside, but right from the get go, we had a food strike over conditions at the county jail and what was particularly interesting and and pertinent about that was you had white and black prisoners and you had to overcome that racial barrier to get everybody together on the same page and go and strike over these conditions.

So I presented the demands–we threw all our food back out, made a mess and wouldn’t eat and the Goon Squad comes up, the whole deal. I got the demands ready: they have to improve the food and the medical care, which was basically non-existent and they dragged me out the next day to the courthouse and got me a force transfer to State Penitentiary and Nashville. Every joint I’ve been in has been either Max or super Max and right away, I got a jacket and that jacket follows me through the rest of my time in the Tennessee prisons and it shows up again many years later for the next 20 years in the federal prisons.

What my jacket says is “he’s a troublemaker, he’s a radical, and he’s a racial agitator.” That they stuck on me after I got to to Nashville, but the seeds for that was in the food strike because the most radical thing I did and could be done when I got to the state penitentary was cross the color line. It was basically Jim Crow. Those are the exact words they put in my jacket: “he’s a racial agitator.” Why is this guy trying to bring people together? As if there’s something wrong here because prison systems are notorious for keeping people divided on racial lines so cross crossing that racial line is what I did as a matter of principle as already a practicing anti-racist in my time with SSOC.

Then, they stuck me on death row to get me off the compound. I was actually on death row. They had several cells for miscreant that they considered real troublemakers from the population. They put me there. I was in there with brothers from Memphis who gave me an education about white supremacy and killer cops I will never forget. You know, learning is a two-way street inside and we were doing political education.

So then, they sent me to Brushy, which was a connection to the old convict leasing system. I got there in 1970. If I got there in 1965, I would have been mining coal. In 1970, it was a Super Max, one of the early super Maxes, so we were locked up almost all the time they cut off all books, all newspapers, no phone calls, very restricted correspondence: immediate family, lawyer, clergy. And that was another racist place, every single guard in Brushy Mountain–this is in East Tennessee Mountains–was white. Half the prisoners there were black. They moved death row and me there at the same time and most of the prisoners on death row were black and I literally had to fight my way out of that place. I used to tell people I’m a Vietnam vet. I was in a war before I ever got to this War. I was in a foreign war. I’m a veteran of foreign and domestic Wars because it was a battle to get out of there.

Fast forward: I gotta do 20 years here in the feds, most of it was at Marion and ADX. You know about those places. About 13 years of it in some kind of isolation or solitary confinement…

I had to write,that was the key: a pencil, a pen. It became enormously important for me, my codefendants and I like to think of making a contribution to the ongoing struggles on the streets. I wrote prolifically for quite a long time. I wrote one of the first really published widely spread article outside of mainstream media about ADX in prison legal news. So disarmed from whatever you armed yourself with on the street, you know, it changes inside and I was fortunate that we had supporters on the street–this is pre-internet and everything–to take those writings and developments concerning us and amplify and widely distributed it as much as possible… So this was an important Network and was an important method for me to communicate. For Leonard Peltier or Oscar Lopez it was art. Tom Manning: art. There’s different ways it can be done. With Marilyn [Buck]: poetry. There’s any number of ways that you have to keep your spirit and your politics alive and relevant somehow and that was the way I did it.

I think the most important action we took as political prisoners during my time at Marion was we we did a work refusal. They had it set up where they would not release you from Marion until you went to a pre-transfer unit that made military hardware. And we drew the line and said we will not do that as a condition for a transfer to somewhere else because we weren’t there on disciplinary charges. They had just sent us there because of our jackets. We were all radical and so we refused it. Me, Tom Manning, Mutulu Shakur, Oscar Lopez Rivera and others, we refused and then we end up in ADX.

I want to just reiterate what Ashanti said through all this is study, political education, physical conditioning and the one time of year that I always see that happen when I was inside and I got out is in August. And I did it with Mutulu and the other conscious Brothers before I left–we commemorate Black August throughout the prison system, state or federal, which involves fasting, which involves political education, which involves physical exercise, as much as you can do it together. It’s commemorating the sacrifices of those Black Freedom Fighters like George Jackson, Jonathan Jackson and others before them and after them and it continues to this day.

Eric: In the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, we saw more direct action. We saw bank appropriations, we saw people putting their freedom on the line for the Liberation struggle. Why do you think that is banished? Why do you think we do not see that sort of militant action anymore?

Ashanti: It’s a question that is always on my mind and so to try to explain why it’s always on my mind, the ’60s and ’70s, I still feel like, man, that was such a period for me to come of age, joining the Black Panther Party. It was such a time to be alive, it was just in so many ways magical. It’s like you didn’t have all the distractions. You saw that the Civil Rights Movement was getting beat down. You could turn on that television; it wasn’t but maybe six channels on that television. You’re going to see what these fascists are doing to the nonviolent Civil Rights Movement. But it’s also the point where Black Power is coming into being. Stokeley Carmichael’s voice, H. Rap Brown [AKA] Jamil al-Amin, who’s now still in prison. They were raising more of the Malcolm X spirit in the sense of “we want to be free.” Black power also was directing us towards what does self-determination look like, how might we actually take over our communities, the institutions, etc. It gave more of a concrete picture of what are we fighting for here and not integration.

So here also now we beginning to explore socialism, communism and the Panther Party, having to read Karl Marx and and then Frantz Fanon and all these other folks. It made us see more of the reality of this monster we’re facing, that it could not be changed. It could not be even modified. This monster has to be challenged and we have to build the kind of revolutionary movements that can like George Jackson say, bring it to its knees and I don’t know how that sounds to other people, but when you know your history, when you know what this country on the back of Turtle Island did to indigenous Nations, what it has and continues to do, what it did to African people and continues to do, what it had did to the Mexicans and others who come here. This is not something you try to reform. So you see the necessity, even us as teenagers, of fighting this, develop the capacity to fight.

The great thing about the Panther Party was that you know that fight took the form of survival programs as well as Liberation schools. The survival programs were so key because it was pretty much telling people that we can feed ourselves. The free health clinics was basically saying we can take care of our own health issues. The political education classes was like if the schools are not going to teach us what we really need to know then we need to do that. That was that self-determination nationalist attitude. When we talk about Nat Turner and all the other folks, we knew that there were those who did fight back by any means necessary.

And it’s the same thing with the guy now that speaks on Palestine a lot, Norman Finklestein, the thing he brings up about the Nat Turner rebellion and he says clearly, that was a pretty vicious thing, but it was an act of rebellion and an act of necessity, and he went to what the Abolitionist Movement leaders were putting out in their papers and in their talks to give it some perspective and and basically, what the Abolitionist Movement was telling people was, “we told you things like this were going to happen because you have these people enslaved.” So Norman Finklestein was comparing it to the open air prison, Palestine, Gaza and, that was what we were trying to get across also. Don’t call us crazy because we are trying to develop the capacity to be free, which will mean that we have got to confront this monster with all means necessary.

The Panther Party, I feel, came closest to to bringing that into fruition because it started off Black Panther Party for self-defense, but also in its growing process understood this aspect of armed struggle and we need to defend our communities and then we we don’t need to rely on the police to do it because clearly the police is an occupying force. That language at the time was so key. When when Eldridge Cleaver and them talked about this being an internal colony and we’re inside the mother country, he was giving us a way to see what this settler colonialism was and also see our struggle on a much broader level compared with the African Liberation movements, the Liberation movements coming out of Asia, the Revolutionary struggles even in Germany and Japan and other places.

Those of us in the in the Panther Party who went underground, we had always understood that we have to develop the capacity to defend ourselves. Who do we come up against is all those Bourgeois Negroes and others who want to stay connected to the monster and want to convince our people “do not follow them crazy people, stay with the monster, they’re going to give us a few trinkets, they’re going to give us a little bit more.”

Let me tell you what happened quickly after the rebellion in my hometown. This is ’67, this is what pretty much brought me into the movement. I’m like 13, 14 years old. The rebellion in Planfield when black folks took over the black community because they went and got crates of M1 rifles, they was able to hold it for a week. 13, 14 year old Ashanti was like “oh my God.” This is blowing my mind that we are able to do this. But then after the National Guard came in with the tanks and took it over, the first thing that the city government did once they was contained, was to put some swimming pools in the playgrounds and they called that, you know, “y’all should be satisfied with that.” Now Plainfield ain’t been right since.

To this day, even with afterwards, black Mayors, it ain’t been right since because we could not hold that self-determination, that black power perspective because of how that black middle class wanted to just fit in. They wanted to integrate. The lesson we should know from that is that we can’t integrate into this poisonous monstrous Empire. We have really got to figure out that the way forward is to cut it loose. Cut it loose in every way we can.

Eric: Thank you! Shout out to Plainfield. Ray Luc, do you have an opinion or a thought on why this generation—particularly with what’s going on— why we’ve seen such a decrease in militant action or direct action compared to when you guys were comin’ up?

Ray Luc: You know, I agree a lot with what Ashanti said about time, place, conditions. During our early political activist years, it was a much different time in the world. You know, Che said, “1, 2, 3, many Vietnams” and I come out of Vietnam, you know—that seemed like a real possibility.

And, Ashanti, you were talking about 1967; you know, I was in Vietnam in 1967. We got an old Life magazine over there, you know— a very popular American weekly at the time— and it showed pictures of Detroit at the 1967 rebellion. And I saw that when I was in ‘Nam, and I’d done a lot of flying in helicopters, and, you know, the devastation that I saw in the pages of Life magazine looked similar to what I was seeing in parts of Vietnam.

And so I went up to Detroit to look at it myself, after I got back (I was stationed at Fort Campbell.), and I could see there was a real war going on here, too.

When I got out in 2004, one of the things I noticed about the general climate is I felt people were fearful. There was a level of, you know— this was following 9/11, and I was inside during 9/11. But there was this sense of, people has a sense of fear, insecurity, anxiety that I hadn’t sensed twenty years earlier, when I went in. And, it is a real challenge.

I mean, when I’m involved in Palestine work right now, mainly what I’m seeing is certainly a lot of energy has been generated around supporting Palestine. Some for different reasons among different people, but there’s real potential there for this…This movement that’s happening around this country right now to develop to the level it was around South Africa 25 years ago. But that is an exception, and I don’t have a firm answer for what you’re saying. One of the questions I used to get a lot over the years—not so much anymore, but did— it indicates why people were thinking different than they were, you know, decades earlier. There’s a sense about people, you know, that they were kind of overwhelmed by the power of the system, you know? They would say, “How can you challenge something like this? It seems that everything we do or try doesn’t get anywhere.” Because it’s too big, it’s too powerful.

And, the other one was about sacrifice. If you go up against the system, there are consequences.

Eric: Serious consequences.

Ray Luc: You know, we here, on this panel right now are demonstrating what some of those consequences are, but there’s a lot of other consequences. I’ve heard you, Eric, talk about an organization I’ve been very involved with, which is Rosenberg Fund for Children.

Eric: Love ‘em!

Ray: This is an organization that supports children of political prisoners— and if you go and you look at the parents with these children, the activists, how many different ways government can make you pay for your activism. Whether you’re an immigration activist, a climate activist, an antifascist activist…And at different levels of activism, depending on where you are, you know—there’s other factors—but it’s a whole lot of people that are paying a price for their activism and it scares a lot of people.

Eric: Thank you! Thank you so much. Ashanti, you wanted us to come back to you? You had a follow-up?

Ashanti: ….What I had wanted to get back to around here is the difference between then and now. I do think fear is a big, big part, ’cause I think that once they had captured a lot of us, what was put in place— not only the more militarized police but on a cultural level, television has beaucoup cop shows! Beaucoup cop shows that they had millions and millions of people what would watch every week. Because in the cop shows, the cops always got the “criminal.” And, in many instances, the criminals was folks like me and Ray. Right?

Eric: Right, right.

Ashanti: And people were getting convinced, just like they captured us: “Don’t you try to do the same thing, ’cause we’ll get you, too. You cannot escape us.” Because when I went in in ’74, and when I got out at the end of ’85 and I’m living with my lawyer until he could work it out, my lawyer had a close relationship with a lot of black high school students, in New Haven, that had basketball skills…

But one of the young high-school students— ’cause he was being around the legal office— and just out of curiosity, I asked him, “What do you know about the Black Panther Party?” And he asked me, was it a martial arts group? Which helped me to understand what our enemy does in order to recoup, to recover from that revolutionary period that we kinda, like, was on the edge—

Eric: So close!

Ashanti: …Of revolution, and it felt like in so many ways. They know what they’re doing! And so, on the militarized level, and on that cultural level, they was recouping. And not to rule out, also, the influx of drugs into the community around the same time, too! ‘Cause when many of us got out, we saw the proliferation of street organizations that was involved with this murderous drug game? Oh, it made our job, ooooh— this is WAY more than we know how to handle. WAY more. So, all of these things are still with us today. That’s why I wanted to get back to that, because we talked about today. There’s real, legitimate reasons, but we still gotta figure out how to confront the fear.

Because if we don’t, they continue. I don’t wanna hear all that talk about, you know, the Empire is on its last legs; I get tired of that. People make predictions and all that shit. No! And, if it is, who’s going to be the ones who’s really going to suffer, if it really feels it, it’s gonna hit us at the bottom, and we gotta figure out how to still organize…

Eric: Yeah!

Ashanti: …against these things, on multi-dimensional levels, because the trauma— just like what the Palestinians is going through now.

Eric: We’re gonna get to that!

Ashanti: You know, the trauma, and it’s intergenerational, and it’s ongoing.

Ray: Can I just add one quick thing? You know, people are more likely to set up, and do, enter various types of activism around various issues— all of which is needed, that’s clear! Hasn’t been long since we saw all these huge Black Lives Matter demonstrations, right? A good example of what I’m talking about with how the system operates and what we need to do to stop Cop City, alright? We’re talking about intimidating people…

If we—Ashanti knows this, ’cause we’ve been doing this work for decades— if we don’t support the activists who are jailed and imprisoned, then we’re not worth shit. ‘Cause every movement that has succeeded in challenging the System and making some advance are those movements that have supported their prisoners.

People who get locked up, you know? You make a sacrifice, you know— You could lose your life, you know? Or you can be imprisoned. Or you can suffer some other consequences, as I mentioned earlier.

And all you’ve gotta do is…You’re talking about the struggle in Palestine? They don’t forget their prisoners in Palestine! Anyone who’s following the struggle in Palestine…And they never have! For real! And that’s part of what makes their movement and spirit so strong. And if you look at the Irish independent struggle, same thing.

If you look at South Africa, in the anti-apartheid years, Nelson Mandela, there was a lot of others. There was ANC or PAC, they didn’t leave their prisoners behind. They kept support networks going for them. They didn’t abandon them.

It’s been a constant struggle in this country to get recognition of political prisoners and, activists who get jailed, to don’t let them get abandoned. And what [they’re trying to do with] Stop Cop City is, “You’d better abandon them, or we’re gonna have your ass, too, next!”

You know, I know Stop Cop City defendants here in Maine, and I can tell you that, after talking with him in depth a couple of times…He was pretty well shell-shocked when he came out of the RICO indictment against them.

We have another case going on right now, in southern New Hampshire: Three young women being charged with felonies for nothing but a little bit of vandalism at an Elbit plant in southern New Hampshire (Elbit being a major military supplier to Israel). You can’t let these people be forgotten. If people see that they get absolutely no support when they step up and do something, they’re gonna be less likely to stand. Doesn’t mean they don’t see the issue, they don’t think something needs to be done; but they’re concerned about what happens if they do it.

Eric: That’s a great point. Something that I think my generation— 30-to-40-year-olds— noticed is when the Green Scare happened, those people got smashed. They got smashed with sentences that my generation did not think still happened. And I think that scared a lot of people away. When you see the 15-to-30 range with Marius Mason and Eric McDavid, Jake Conroy, all those guys— all those people…

So I wanna switch base real quick and jump to what’s happening right now on college campuses that we’re seeing— and that is, college kids comin’ together, making encampments, and facing extreme police responses, in some cases. Here in Denver, my boss, Zeke Williams, is— and our co-director of our legal firm, Claire— both were arrested just for being at an encampment! Just for showing up to support the students.

So, I was wondering if either of you two had views or had opinions on the positive aspects of the Palestinian movement, where we’re lacking, or anything in between that you would like to talk about?

Ashanti: Yeah. Well, one, I’ma tell you, I haven’t been this excited in a long time-

Eric: Shit’s happening!

Ashanti: -with the support that’s been coming out for the Palestinian people, the Palestinian nation, occupied Palestine. I think what has surprised me so much about it is not only the protests, but especially the, I’ma say “white Jews”— mainly young Jews, but I know there are supporters across the board— who are disconnecting Zionism from Judaism.

Eric: Breaking off that propaganda, not letting it get through.

Ashanti: Who would’ve thought? I mean, who would’ve thought? You know, because the Zionism in the United States is really strong! That hold on that, that consciousness is really strong. And to see these young folks challengin’ that— and older folks, too, I’ve been really watching— It warms my heart. Right?

So they’re comin’ out, and, this is antiwar! You know, when one says “anti-genocide,” it’s because of that war, the genocide war on the Palestinian people, you know?

So it’s at a great time…My fears is, is it going to be syphoned off into this presidential election? Right? And if all these folks who are against genocide and for the Palestinian people to be free, to be liberated, you know, does the act stop there?

You know, one of the things I kinda felt goin’ on in the antiwar movement back in the day was that once that war kind of concluded, there were still issues that we were fighting for. Black folks fighting for liberation, Indigenous folks fighting for sovereignty, Puerto Ricans fighting for independence, you know, Chicanos fighting for liberation of Atzlán, the workers are fighting, the women are fighting. Does it stop there? And that’s my concern that this what we’re doing for Palestine–we should see it as we have our Palestine here, yes, in this Empire that’s on the back of Turtle Island.

I’m really excited about one of the books I’m almost finished with now, Mohamed Abdou’s book Islam and Anarchy. It’s a really great really great book, whose author Mohamed Abdou I’ve known for like 20 years and I think he’s been working on this this book for 20 years… He’s an African Anarchist from Egypt, so he’s got the experience of the so-called Arab Spring. He lived in Canada, so he has that experience of developing deep relationship with the struggles there, particularly the indigenous struggles and connected with struggles here as well, so he’s on the ground. He’s not really the academic only guy. He is really a revolutionary, he’s really an anarchist.

The thing that he brings up that I think is key for folks now–not only those who are are Jews, but those who are immigrants–here he brings up a a term he uses is Settlers of color are those immigrants who come here looking for a better life, but they buy into Empire and so I think one things that can help this expression of massive resistance now in the United States is that there’s got to be a Consciousness that deepens around that this is Turtle Island and there’s still a a struggle going on here. There is African people who were brought here enslaved and if this Consciousness is not there then people will continue to fight for a better America– make America live up to its ideals and all of that. When folks who come here do that then you have to accept that you’re doing it on the backs of those original sins that this Empire has committed and it continues. Empire is not just something that happened in the past. It is a daily continuing thing that just goes on…

So we’re Palestine here as well, and we got to figure out how to get this madness off of us and into the dust bin of History.

Eric: thank you thank you for sharing that. Ray, do you yeah have any views on that?

Ray: Yeah I’m pumped about it too, about the the student movement that we’ve seen rise and it’s a really solid example of international solidarity. I like the cross-pollination of it with this, like Ashanti mentioned, it’s not just students. It’s interestingly enough tied into labor because in the California University system and some of the other big University Systems, a lot of those who have joined the campus demonstrations are actually union members on campus and then you got community people also, and I think that’s important. And of course, it is student leadership and students have have had a historic role in this country, in other countries in terms of social change and challenging the system…

It’s a spark and it could be built on, and I’m hoping and cautiously optimistic that they will continue to build on it. It’s a training ground for the future and the last point is that the seed is there in a lot of the Palestine work that’s going on now for longterm solidarity…

Eric: Do either of you two have have an opinion on what could be done to change or get rid of the prison system in America? Ray, I don’t know if you believe in full abolition. I don’t know where you stand on that, but you have an opinion.

Ray: This is a multistep thing… The fact is if you want to get to get rid of this Gulag as it exists in the United States of America today it requires system change. I’m an abolitionist. It’s an ideal of mine. But how do you do that? I’ve been seeing a lot of problems and issues rising up among the prison abolition thing, and the police abolition thing. I actually was involved in a panel discussion around security abolition, which is get rid of the FBI and the CIA and all the rest of it. I didn’t initiate it–I was asked to speak at it. You’re not going to do that without smashing capitalism, uprooting white supremacy…

Think local and act Global. I’ve been involved in prison work against mass incarceration, solitary confinement stuff for years in Maine… a little local project here in a place like Maine in Penobscot County, here, Wabanaki land, of course, they’re going to name a jail after a Native American word Penobscot. They should put on the outside on that that’s because disproportionately [high] number of Native Americans are inside their jail. They want to double the size of that jail. They want to build a new jail twice the size of the one they got now. Five years ago they came up with an architectural plan to do exactly that, but it requires they need the money which requires it goes to referendum. The county voters going to vote on it. We tore that plan apart… Every plan they put up, we have stopped and now we’re in year number five.

The point is how can you do anything about the largest prison system in the world or talk really realistically about abolition if you cannot stop this expansion of it–larger prisons, larger jails…

The architect that built Marion prison back in 1963 I think it was–the replacement for Alcatraz–is one of the architects on the bid to double the size of this new jail right here in my neighborhood over a half century later. These motherfuckers have been sucking all this money up, building–what kind of resume is that? But if you go on their website and look, they got all the nonprofit industrial complex rhetoric down flat. They say they’re going to have trauma sensitive cells and all that. But the point is it’s a small project but you take that and you amplify and multiply. If every little town, every small city was able to do the same thing, we could make some headway into turning. I think that’s just a a practical step that is almost a prerequisite step as part of moving towards abolition.

Eric: Thank you. Ashanti, do you have a view on this?

Ashanti: I’m definitely an abolitionist. I have some concerns, but I’m going to just tie it into this and not really get too deep into it. Like many things, this system has the ability to co-opt, regurgitate and spit something else back out to us, as if it was their idea, and I think that has been happening. And I think other abolitionists who have been developing this for years see the same thing, that this thing with abolitionist getting distorted and watered down to the point where you got many people who will use the word abolition where they abolitionist, you know, defund the police and all that other stuff.

I’m not really that big on the defund the police because I think that doesn’t show any understanding of the role of the police–that they ain’t gonna stand around like “oh you going to take our job from us.” No no no, “we’re Killers, we’re Shooters, we control you. That’s our job.” No, I think people can be kind of naive.

I am more for tying abolition into real Grassroots organizing that people can see the need to take back their lives. I like the initiative coming from The People’s Senate, which which is putting forth the Spirit of Mandela, a sort of dual power possibility of people developing the capacities to develop their own power in opposition to the white supremacist capitalist powers that be. I really like Dhoruba bin Wahad’s idea that he’s been pushing in terms of developing a united front against fascism, as we tried back in the days of fascism. And I think what is so key about that is that Dhoruba is very analytical and pointed into the role of the technologies of political control. He’s trying to get people to see the role of the police in a much broader picture that we need to get ready for.

And so I would encourage people–you can go to the uh the Spirit of Mandela website. You can even–if you put in united front against fascism, put Dhoruba’s name in there you’ll see where he has the conversation with Jill Stein and Cornell West. Both have a united front aspect and both want to reach masses of people from different communities, from different perspectives, but to be clear about how we need to focus on the role of them Frontline forces who are going to always be there to prevent us from developing this capacity to transform this madness…

Can we stay focused on the need to bring this Empire down as even the best way to help [against] the genocides that’s going on in Palestine and in Africa and other different places. But we don’t really talk about the genocides in Africa as much but those of us out of the Black Liberation struggle…

Like Che Guevara would say, “we’re in the brain of this Empire.” I say let’s get that aneurism going. Bring this thing down so that the role that the United States Empire plays in world oppressions can be disrupted and to help other people to develop the spaces in other countries and other struggles to free themselves.

I’m more concerned with a lot of the Abolitionist rhetoric today and a lot of people that are coming to the fore. There’s no deep class analysis; there’s no deep race analysis; there’s no idea of a settler Colonial situation here. And without them things, then you really talking about “I want to make America live up to its ideals.” And I don’t want to make America live up to its ideals because this is the ideal, regardless of its rhetoric. What we see now is the best that it can do and the best that it wants to do. We deserve better.

Eric: This is going to be our last question here. Ray and Ashanti, if either of you two have any projects you’re working on that you want to talk about, any things you just want to get off your chest or just get out there, I ask you to please take this time to do that now.

Ashanti: Right, I want to make sure to mention the work of Jericho, [supporting] political prisoners–I mean really, we got to be there for folks that take chances, take them risks. Tortuguita in the Cop City thing in Atlanta, was he expecting to die on that day? No. Was all those people expecting to get arrested under new versions of RICO? No. And Martin Luther King, how many times was he arrested? We have to be more real about that.

The other thing that I want to say is I’m an anarchist. So all of you folks out there who are anarchists, I feel we got a lot to offer and I feel like man we need to start talking more and being able to have more of a presence and input into shaping these struggles as they unfold and so I’m asking y’all–let’s figure out how to make that happen.

Eric: Thank you. Ray?

Ray: …I’ll just leave it with a little Parable… I’ve lived and operated in huge cities for a long time, but what I say a lot of times to people that live in less populated areas: there are many of us in small towns, suburbs, small cities. Speaking with people, they raise a lot of issues about, you know, you can say “united front against fascism” sounds good, but how do we get from here to there? You can identify the problem fairly easily: smash capitalism, imperialism and white supremacy and you’re off in the right direction. But how do you get there?

So without coming down a party line. I don’t represent a particular sectarian party, so coming from a working background, I made my living as a carpenter. Until I got old and retired, I made my living as a carpenter, not a hugely skilled carpenter. I’m a frame carpenter, but that means I can build it from bottom to top and when a dude hired me on the job, I was trying to get any kind of job I can because I was on parole and I needed a job. I needed money. So I said, “I’ll be carpenter’s helper” because I didn’t have any skill at all. And he says we don’t want carpenter’s helpers. Everybody is a carpenter, just different skill levels. And he gave me some advice that I’ve extrapolated for use in political organizing and advocacy.

He says, “how many people can just go out there and build a house? It would be overwhelming for the average person.”… He says “don’t try to build a house until you built a shed first.” And I live in the country. I’ve built quite a few sheds, among other things as unskilled as I was. Before I developed those skills, I built a shed, because to build a shed requires the same basic principles and blueprint as building a house…

So take that and put it into Community organizing terms: don’t be overwhelmed. We’re going to build a united front against fascism. You want to deal with white supremacy, you want to deal with Palestine, start with what you’ve got to work with. Build a shed first, get a program going, get us a few people together, get things started and I first got a taste of that because I was with a group that patterned ourselves to a degree after the Black Panther Party, although we were predominantly white, but we took seriously the survival programs that the the Panthers did. You had to start smaller to get people involved in working on their own to see that to get
to a higher level survival ending with Revolution without giving up your politics. So that’s that’s my hard suggestion.

Eric: So as everyone who talks to me on social media knows, what I always always leave people with is please write a prisoner. Please write a prisoner, whether they’re a political prisoner, a social prisoner, whether they’re in the lower custody level or the highest custody level. Please write someone inside. Please start a project with those inside. See what you can do to help them and help make their time and their comrades’ time inside better.

Ashanti, brother, I thank you so much. Ray, thank you so much. It was a real honor talking to both of you.

https://abolitionmedia.noblogs.org/post/2024/06/25/rattling-the-cages-discussion-with-former-political-prisoners-eric-king-ashanti-alston-and-ray-luc-levasseur/

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Rattling the Cages: Continuing the Struggle Inside & Out

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Portrait of Ashanti Alston speaking at AK Press. Check out his talk online: “Ashanti Alston on the Black Panthers and Zapatistas”. Find the transcript and this artwork in the first issue of “Grietas: A Journal of Zapatista Thought and Horizons: Autonomy from Below and the the Left in the U.S.”, which you can now order from bookshop.org or your fave Indy bookstore

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Ashanti Alston on the Black Panthers and the Zapatistas | Black Anarchism

Talk by the black anarchist Ashanti Alston from 2006. To read texts by him see https://theanarchistlibrary.org/category/author/ashanti-omowali-alston

Zoe Baker | Invidious