Friday, 23 January 2015

The State, Weaver Of False Differences.

     On January, 17th. 2013, on a street in Athens, an immigrant worker was murdered in cold blood by two members of Golden Dawn. On January 17th. 2015, in memory of this murdered worker, approximately 400 people marched to the spot where he was stabbed to death. The hands that killed Shehzad Luqman, may have been psycho members of Golden Dawn, but the full responsibility for this crime lies with the state.
       The state breeds racism, creates borders, arbitrary lines drawn by power mongers on a map, turns worker against worker, on a basis of race or colour. The state supports corporate power which exploits all of humanity. As long as we have capitalism and its minder, the state, we will have divisions between worker and worker, based on some illusionary geographical difference. We are all inhabitants of this one earth, only as people co-operating without borders can we hope to see to the needs of all our people. We don't need states, they are a hindrance to co-operation and mutual aid, they are the perpetrators of repression, war, and want, the enemy of freedom.
      Comrades from the area met once again on the streets, joining the call for a mobilisation with a distinct bloc at the tail end of the demonstration. As anarchist individuals, we might come from different starting points, nevertheless we share a common conviction: We have no illusions of democracy, nor do we wait for any bourgeois justice or electoral system to solve the problems of the oppressed. The institutions of the States and Capital are the main perpetrators responsible for the murders en mass of migrants and refugees at the borders of the continents and oceans; for the State and para-State pogroms and deportations, for the concentration camps, for spreading xenophobia and racism, for the production and reproduction of nationalisms, and finally for the complete fascistisation of our neighborhoods and societies.
Read the full article HERE:

No, I shall not die for the fluttering flag,
if truth be known, ’tis nothing but a multi-coloured rag
held aloft by some foolish hand
inciting worker and peasant to kill
on some green and wooded hill,
peasant and worker from some other land.
Nor shall I shed blood for the fluttering rag
that brings out fools to stand and brag
of brutal deeds painted grand,
deeds where rustic and craftsman lie so still
killed by my brothers' misguided hand.
No allegiance have I for the Nation
this man made autocratic creation
that divides my brothers in a world so small,
binds us to a country's cause, right or wrong,
bids us follow its drum, sing its song,
then sheds our blood in some border brawl.
No, I'll be no slave to flag or nation,
have no ear for power oration,
though its iron heel is on my breast,
my back feels its leather thong,
at patriotism's barracoon, I'll be no guest.

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