United States
Mumia Abu-Jamal: Racial Imprisonment
Speech written by Mumia Abu-Jamal for a conference titled PRISONMENT OF A RACE
The conference was held at Princeton University on March 25th, 2011
Dear Friends, Activists, Scholars and Colleagues: On A Move!
Thank you for your invitation to join you and to participate in this conference. It is an honor to share these brief moments with you – a nod and a salute to your panelists, many of whom I know and admire.
Your topic, is, to say the least, a daunting one, for the sheer numbers are breathtaking, especially when you consider its familial, social, communal and political impacts. I dare say, for those among you who are African-American, no matter your class or income, you won’t have to think very long to recall a nephew – and far too often a niece – (not to mention a son or daughter!), who, if not presently a prisoner, is then an ex-prisoner of some country, state or federal system.
That speaks to the ubiquity of the problem, of the vast numbers of men, women and juveniles who populate the prison industrial complex here in America. As many of you know, the U.S., with barely 5% of the world’s population, imprisons 25% of the world’s prisoners. As Michelle Alexander (whom many of you will hear from in this conference’s evening program) has noted, the numbers of imprisoned Blacks here rivals and exceeds South Africa’s hated apartheid system during its height.
We shouldn’t take this analogy lightly, for the South African apartheid was the epitome of the racist police state, second only to Nazi Germany in its repellent nature. Moreover, much of its energy was consumed in a de facto war (or, at the very least, in military-espionage jargon, a low-intensity conflict) with the Black majority that criminalized almost every feature of African independent life, restricting places to live, work, study and even love.
This speaks to how blind we are in this country to the scope of the problem (much less its resolution), and how it has been normalized in social and political consciousness, in part because the corporate media neglects or slants such a story; for if they can fail in reportage leading to a hot war (here I mean Iraq) they certainly can fail in reporting the parameters of a low-intensity conflict that crushes Black lives. Perhaps the words of a non- American (I hesitate to call him a foreigner), but long an observer of this country, can give us some insight. At 71 years, South Africa’s great musical gift, Hugh Masekela gave an interview in which he made note of the post-apartheid South Africa: “The majority of the population only got the right to vote and a lack of harassment from the police. But any further changes would be bad for business. Same like here in the United States – the fruits of the Civil Rights Movement are very minimal.”
I quote Masekela here not merely because of his celebrity (nor because I love his music), but because he, like millions of Africans, lived under the madness of apartheid, (even though he escaped it by later moving abroad) and therefore knows it intimately. He therefore is able to recognize its elements in American life. Buy why is apartheid seen as so repellent and the U.S. prison industrial complex (PIC) seen as benign?
I think the answer is twofold: 1) the political elites of both [U.S.] political parties reached bi-partisan consensus on this issue; and 2) the presence of Black political actors in various offices act as a shield repelling attacks on the racist nature of the system.
As in South Africa, Black political elites have benefited from an economic system that is profoundly unfair to the vast majority of African people, especially the poor and working-class. Thus, race protects a class divide, and despite its imagery, social inequality. In essence, the post-apartheid regime achieved a result that the apartheid era tried to, but failed to construct: a buffer class that protected the lands, property and material wealth of the white minority settler class.
It is one of the ironies of history that the government led by the African National Congress (ANC) would achieve this result, albeit by negotiated settlement.
Let us depart from theoretical political constructs to note an example of the real. Several months ago, a police squad raided a Black working-class home, shot into it from outside, and killed a Black child. That, in itself, unfortunately, can’t be called noteworthy. Yet it has a certain resonance when we note that both the mayor of the city, and its police chief, were Black. Those aware of this incident may recognize the name of the beautiful child involved, Aiyannah Jones, I believe, and the city: Detroit. Surely this provides some insight into the political function of Black leaders, and their impotence when it comes to curbing state action that endangers Black poor life.
One of the keynoters, law professor Alexander addresses some of these points in her book, but what had the best salience for me was something that I’ve not seen in any of the reviews I’ve read (understanding that as most prisoners don’t have computer access, I’ve probably missed scads of reviews). It was her observation that the Black working-class/poor constitute a caste position in U.S. society.
In a nation that promotes democracy, one would think the charge that a distinct racial caste exists at the heart of it would provoke controversy. Judging from what I’ve read, this central point has been glossed over.
In closing, I, of course, commend her book to you all for study, but I must do more.
We must call for, agitate for, and if all else fails, create a new popular movement that struggles to break this caste system, once and for all. Indeed, it is in our collective interest to do so. For most Black scholars, intellectuals, academics and political elites are one generation removed from the ghettoes of distant memory. With the collapse of the U.S. economy, where do you think the cuts will occur, as the welfare state – and the State itself – shrinks?
Finally, we know that the impact of felon disfranchisement laws led, inexorably, to the election of George W. Bush, in 2000. Think of what the world may’ve looked like, if that political event didn’t happen.
It is in the interest of all.
I thank you. On A Move!
Mumia Abu-Jamal, M.A.
Death Row, Pa.
From New York: As migrants, we are also sick of this shit
AS IMMIGRANTS, WE ARE ALSO SICK OF THIS SHIT.
We are Movement for Justice in El Barrio, an organization of Mexican immigrants that fights for human dignity and against neoliberal displacement in East Harlem, New York. We fight for the liberation of women, indigenous peoples, lesbians, gays, the transgender community, and immigrants. We, too, as immigrants are sick of this shit (estamos hasta la madre)… as are all those from below in our beloved Mexico.
Our pain and solidarity indignation is with all the people who, due to the bad government’s war – deceitfully disguised as a “war against narco-trafficking”—, have lost their sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, relatives, and friends.
As immigrants, we are also the targets of the bad government’s wars and we are being attacked from all sides. First, by the capitalist system and the political class of Mexico that, through the PAN, PRD, and PRI political parties, forms the bad government. They have launched a war against our Mexico. Like all our fellow Mexican immigrants who are here on the “other side,” we migrated for this very reason. It is a war against the poor caused by the multinational corporations and their political lackeys.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the bad governments, from both sides of the border, and the transnational corporations are colluding in the destruction of our peoples and our lands by changing laws to allow the further exploitation and enslavement of humanity.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because unemployment and slavery jobs force us to leave our beloved people of Mexico.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the bad government’s war is killing off our culture; they want to destroy every facet of us as a community and as human beings.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the only option our country leaves for us is to risk our lives a thousand times over and leave everything behind in order to arrive in this country, the U.S., which plunders our natural resources and in this way enjoys a level of life infinitely higher than our country.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because it all occurs due to our corrupt governments, who are the lackeys of transnational corporations and who continue to kiss their feet so that they may get fat off of our poverty.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the bad government of Mexico and its employees laugh in our faces as they force us to say goodbye to our families, our community, and our beloved Mexico, when those from above exile us.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because here on the other side, we are turned into cheap labor to the benefit of the bosses, the wealthy and, in the same way, in service of the State—all of which profit from the savage exploitation of our community.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the political and economic system continues to degrade us as human beings.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because, in exchange for our labor, they implement new anti-immigrant and racist laws, murderous border walls, barriers on the Evros River, floating detention centers and armies in the Aegean Sea, assault battalions in the cities and large-scale deportations.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because we have seen how the politicians have degraded, exploited, looted, plundered, and murdered our people in Mexico and our fellow immigrant compañeros.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the transnational corporations, aided by the bad government’s war, are destroying the lands and natural resources that belong to the original peoples of our Mexico.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because we are discriminated against, humiliated, marginalized, and oppressed for being women, lesbians, transgender, gays and indigenous peoples.
Movement for Justice in El Barrio holds the bad government of Mexico and the world capitalist system directly responsible for the war that keeps us in the conditions we face as immigrants; for the war that seeks to destroy our families, children, women, men, elderly, and youth who, in reality, sustain the economy of the big cities to the benefit of the transnational corporations and bad governments in power on both sides of the border.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the war of those from above uses the mass media, controlled as they are by the bad government, to manipulate public opinion and to conceal the exploitation and true information, always to accommodate the interests of the corrupt governments.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the political and economic system, which wages a war against our population to destroy us, is the root cause and culprit for the exploitation of human beings as cheap labor.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the bad government’s war is degrading our humanity, is killing our culture, desires to enslave us in its image, and wishes to obliterate us in ever facet as a community and as human beings.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because the capitalist system moves its money from one country to another, from one continent to another, because for money there are no walls, there are no borders, there are no immigration laws. For money: freedom exists. For us: only persecution and exploitation.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because those from above want to convince workers that we represent a threat to them; that we are responsible for the oppression that their very own governments inflict upon them.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because they implement all of this to deny us our right to live a dignified life as human beings with all the rights that they don’t want us to exercise.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because we were displaced and evicted from our beloved Mexico and here we are now facing and fighting yet again displacement from our homes and community. Or, in other words, we are being doubly displaced, and for this reason, our struggle will not be stopped: it is strengthened together with our sisters and brothers of The Other Campaign.
As Mexican immigrants, we are part of The Other Campaign, the national Mexican movement – initiated by our Zapatista sisters and brothers from Chiapas, Mexico – that aims to unify all the struggles from below and to the left. This movement changes the way of doing politics by having the community as a base. We want to get rid of those thieving, corrupt, and dirty politicians from our Mexico, since all they do is plunder and leave our country in ruins. But, as our Zapatista sisters and brothers say, “If there is no world for us, by respecting our differences, we will build one in which many worlds fit.”
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because whenever the people, those from below, unite and fight against the capitalist system and political class, those from above attempt to squash our struggles as organized and autonomous peoples with repression, as they have done to members of The Other Campaign, such as our beloved sisters and brothers Zapatistas and our beloved compas from San Sebastián Bachajón.
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because instead of shelter, land, jobs, food, health, education, independence, democracy, freedom, and peace, there is superfluous brutality, violence, displacement, poverty, hunger, and repression. Instead of life, there is death.
Now, the bad government with the help of the capitalist mass media disguises this as a “war against narco-trafficking.”
As immigrants, we are sick of this shit because we know that the narco-trafficking, protected by the State, requires economic and social inequality to be able to exist, and it is precisely this inequality that has forced us to flee our country. In this way, the government makes its most subtle connection in its war against the people.
Because of all this, Movement for Justice in El Barrio, The Other Campaign New York, will join the actions that will take place from May 5-8 in Mexico and around the world against the violence perpetrated by the State.
Our protest will occur at the Mexican Consulate in New York, on Friday, May 6.
Responding to the call to name innocent victims, we name a dignified family that died while crossing the border:
Rosa Guzmán
Antonio Guzmán
Daniel Guzmán
This is the word of the simple and humble community of El Barrio, NYC.
Movement for Justice in El Barrio
The Other Campaign New York
STOP CALDERÓN’S WAR!
NO MORE BLOOD!
WE ARE SICK OF THE VIOLENCE PERPETRATED BY THE STATE, ITS CORRUPT MILITARY, ITS PARAMILITARIES AND THE ARMED NARCO-TRAFFICKERS!
Life in the poorest neighborhoods of the U.S. is extremely difficult and tends to get worse. Such is the case with South Central Los Angeles, today a mostly Latino neighborhood. It was here that one of the most important rebellions in the United States took place in 1992, when the police officers who had brutally beat Rodney King, an African-American taxi driver, were acquitted by an almost all-white jury. The rebellion was the people’s desperate response to police violence, but also to a situation that at the time seemed untenable and which has only gotten worse: high unemployment levels, increasingly lower salaries, overcrowding, scarcity of housing and expensive rents, racial segregation, gangs, drug addiction, a disastrous educational system, abysmal health services, high obesity and malnutrition rates due to the lack of healthy food sources.
The farm was destroyed in order to build a warehouse for the clothing company Forever 21. This is one of the businesses combated by the Garment Worker Center (GWC), which accuses it of violating workers’ rights of its employees, most of them immigrants. The GWC, an independent, community-based, horizontally-driven organization, operates in downtown Los Angeles, at the heart of the thriving clothing industry. Although much has been said about the global maquiladora industry, which hops from country to country in search of ever cheaper labor, little is talked about the internal sweatshop industry, which takes advantage of the precarious conditions of immigrant workers (fear, ignorance of labor laws, difficulties with the language, harassment for being undocumented, threats, and constant abuse) in order to reduce costs without having to take production offshore. The Garment Worker Center organizes with sweatshop workers to combat these practices, within the context of an increasing criminalization of and hostility toward immigration.
Another interesting organization along those lines is the Kilombo Intergaláctico in Durham, North Carolina. The Kilombo is a social center where communities of color, migrants, workers, and students look for solutions for their everyday lives while connecting themselves to anti-capitalist movements around the world. The Kilombo is inspired by the Zapatista struggle but also by Argentinean piqueteros, the Black Panthers and Young Lords of the United States, and the palenques or quilombos of colonial times in the Americas (communities in resistance of runaway slaves, indigenous people, and mestizos). In Zapatista style, their strategies for organization and struggle are centered on assemblies, encounters, autonomy, territory, knowledge, and communication. The center has educational and sports programs (English, Spanish, literacy, computing, reading workshops, capoeira), a library, rights workshops, a radio project, a community garden, a health clinic, an affordable housing project, and an independent publisher.
In New York, El Barrio, in East Harlem, suffers the same problem. One of the main aggressors currently is the London-based Dawnay, Day Group, which in 2007 bought 47 buildings and which intends to evict the residents for the sake of luxury developments. But the problem is much older than that, and in December 2004 residents of five threatened buildings organized themselves and formed the Movement for Justice in El Barrio, which through media campaigns, legal actions, demonstrations, and direct actions struggle against gentrification. After the release of the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle, the Movement for Justice in El Barrio decided to join the Other Campaign and adopt Zapatista forms of struggle. In 2006 they organized the “Consulta del Barrio,” a long process whereby community members determined their priorities and strategies for struggle. In October 2007 they organized the First New York Encounter for Humanity and Against Gentrification, with the participation of organizations from all over New York and other cities that struggle against gentrification. In March 2008 the movement launched an International Campaign in Defense of El Barrio, with the purpose not only of strengthening the resistance but of joining forces with struggles in other parts of the world.
Police violence is accompanied by legal mechanisms that tend to criminalize youth. For example, gang injunction laws forbid members of certain gangs to get together in certain geographical areas. But the ways in which authorities determine who is a gang member are very haphazard, which results in many youths, gang members or not, being criminalized for things as simple as getting together with friends in public, riding a bicycle, wearing clothes of certain colors, or using a cellular phone. The stories of abusive repression of youth of color are plentiful. In New York, a black 16-year-old has already been in jail several times-for passing from one subway car to another, for not signing up when entering a housing project.
What all of this shows is a complex mechanism to “reuse” millions of people who no longer have a place in the system. In this context, autonomist struggles play a fundamental role. To many people, the system is so complex and perverse that there is no way to change it from above. The reforms undertaken by the Barak Obama administration do not intend, nor would they be capable if they did, of restructuring the system in its foundation. For communities at the very bottom of the social scale, the only viable alternative is community and autonomous organization and the creation of networks of resistance with struggles in other parts of the country and the world.
