Fighting Fascism Is A Task For Us All (Antifa Statement)

In the past in Britain (and still today in most other European countries) opposing fascism was considered a duty by almost all anarchists and socialists. Today, many (particularly within the British anarchist movement) have abdicated responsibility for taking on the fascists, and either ignore the issue completely, or at best seed responsibility to specialist antifascist groups such as Antifa. Opposing fascism is something ALL of us have to play a part in, particularly with the growing influence of fascist groups like the British National Party (BNP.)

Organizations like ‘Unite Against Fascism’ (UAF) and ‘Hope Not Hate’ would probably agree with the above premise. However, while many of their rank and file supporters may be genuine in their intent, the organizations themselves have no real interest in defeating organized fascism. The UAF is a front-group dominated and controlled by the Trotskyite ‘Socialist Workers Party’ (SWP) who are far more interested in selling papers and recruiting members than in effectively confronting the BNP. ‘Hope Not Hate’ were set up by the State-affiliated entity ‘Searchlight’, who tell us we can stop the BNP by voting Labour and helping to strengthen the tools of the State itself (i.e. new laws.) Both groups merely seek to manipulate and exploit antifascists, and arguably their stupid politics must take some of the share of responsibility for the rise of the BNP in the first place. At best they are a waste of time.

Antifa is a network of ordinary men and women opposed to the rise of the Far-Right. We work autonomously, but are united by a shared set of principles enshrined in our Founding Statement. If you support our position, you can get involved with one of our groups, or you could even set up your own. Ultimately however, we are not asking for people to join us; we are not asking for your contact details or for your money; we are simply asking for you to ACT.

While their true aims have not changed in the slightest, the BNP are trying to make the move from the shadows of neo-Nazism to mainstream politics. They are hiding their old swastika armbands under suit jackets and going out leafleting instead of petrol-bombing the homes of Asian families (leaving that kind of terror to their fascist allies and their ‘off-duty’ members.) They stand candidates in elections and regularly hold stalls in town centres around the country. Going public in this way however, makes them vulnerable.

Besides the BNP, there are other fascist groups who must also be opposed when they come out onto the streets. They are in many ways even easier to combat. In fighting organized fascism the only limits are our imagination and courage, even small numbers of people can make a difference.

Antifa however, also believe in organizing within our own communities against the spread of racism stirred up by everyone from the mainstream media to New Labour, and against the fascism of the BNP. Only by organizing in our own communities and workplaces can we hope to defeat fascism once and for all. In the white working-class areas where the BNP have already gained a toe-hold (primarily former Labour strongholds where people rightly feel betrayed by the mainstream parties and have been conned into seeing the BNP as some form of ‘radical’ alternative), as well as confronting the BNP physically, we should aim to challenge the BNP’s fascist politics and replace them with our own anti-racist, anti-state, and pro working-class politics.

These are desperate times for antifascists and all of us must play our part in taking on organized fascism. Antifa believe we have already shown on numerous occasions that a relatively small number of dedicated antifascists can score decisive victories. Most of our actions and activities go unreported, but the fascists know and fear us. Imagine what a difference it would make if there were thousands of us.

Antifa England
http://www.antifa.org.uk/nucleus3.32/nucleus332/

you would of voted for obama if you could've

__________________
i live to be hated

In the summer of 1982 I was 5 years old and living in the barrio of southeast San Diego known as El Cajon. On one particular afternoon I remember Lying on the orange shag carpet, with my chin on my hands, watching an old war movie with my father. I think it was the Guns of Navarone. About halfway through a dilema popped into my head and I turned to my pops on the couch and asked "Hey Dad? When people start a war How do they decide who's gonna be the good guys and who's gonna be the bad guys"? My father being the consumate philospher and all around guru of Ideals, Set his beer on the small wooden coffee table and actually scratched his Chin. With a warm smile on his face he looked down at me and replied "Thats a good question Kiddo.The good guys are always the ones that win. Because the losers never get to tell their side of the Story."

At five years old I just nodded and went back to the movie satisfied for the time being, but I never forgot that conversation and it seems to ring true the older I get.

Twenty years later I found myself as a soldier in the 108th airborne preparing for war. My Batallion was on an exercise in the New Mexican Desert, learning tactcal procedures for convoys. We spent three weeks learning how to acurately shoot targets from a moving vehicle, How to evacuate a downed convoy, and how to avoid road side bombs(I.E.D.'s).

On the last day of training, about two hundred of us were rounded up and taken to a movie theatre in the middle of a desert out-post in Donna Anna N.M. They filed us in and had us take our seats, which was a welcomed change, because alot of us had'nt even seen a chair for weeks. They started the presentation by bringing in a sergeant who had recently returned from the middle east to answer any questions about dealing with roadside bombings. He then proceeded to show us clips of actual bombings to emphasize the reality of them and finally after about two hours he said "I have a treat for you guys".

He ran a ten minute film that he had recorded a month earlier just outside of Bagdhad. Apparently a suicide bomber had failed to destroy his objective and it was the aftermath of his failed attemt that we were to watch. The situation was; the driver had planned to drive his small, white, 2 door toyota into the side of an American tank, With an improvised explosive device, consisting of six rocket propelled grenades ducttaped to gether, on his lap. He ran into the side of the tank at forty miles per hour,but the bomb did not go off. So there he was in the middle of the street, Horribly injured from the crash with a dud bomb on his crotch surrounded by dozens of armed U.S. soldiers.

The Camera zoomed in on the driver and my heart sank. The kid could'nt have been older than fourteen years old and he was terrified with tears streaking down his dirty and blood soaked face. What particularly caught my attention was his clothing. He Was dressed like a normal American skater kid. He had baggy jeans and an Etnies t-shirt. My mind was twisting with therories on how this kid wound up in his current situation.

As i was still stareing at the screen with furrowed brows and tensed muscles, a Robot was sent to the small car. This small grey robot was equipped with a camera and a Hydro bomb. It approached the car and the kid started openly sobbing and begging for help in english. At the sound of this, a large number of my fellow soilders started giggling. Comments such as "Stupid Rag Head" and "Kill that mother fucker" were beginning to echo through the musty theatre.

The robot circled around to the rear of the car and dropped off the bomb as it turned on it's treads and began it's retreat The screams and sobs of the boy in the car started rising franticly." Please, Please, No!" was coming from the screen and as I looked around the theatre Laughs and grins were everywhere. The camera man started counting down from Ten preparing to detonate the device and the Whole crowd around me was counting with him until.... Bang! The car was enveloped in a cloud of white smoke and brown dust.

As the debris began to settle you could see that the automobile was still in one piece, just riddled with Huge holes. The Hydro bomb had so much force behind it that the water droplets acted like an Enormous shot gun blast. The camera zooms in again and the kid is gone. Well half of him is. He had started crawling away from the wreck and his legs were still in the car. At the sight of this all of my fellow soldiers stood up and cheered. Wistles and clapping and high fives were surrounding me as I realized I was the only person not standing. I started to get phisiclly ill. My stomach twisted. Most of the people around me had familys of their own. How could this Tragedy bring them so much joy?

Still in Awe that my fellow humans were acting like this I noticed that the cheers grew even louder as the Torso on the ground was being kicked to death by the soldiers on the screen. This was too much.

I stood up and hastily left the building I needed air or I was going to vomit. As I sat down in the blazing desert heat with my head on my knees and my Rifle in my lap my mind began to drift. I just could'nt believe What was going on in the minds of my comerades. I found myself thinking back to that summer day back in 1982 and the conversation with my father. A single tear began to well in the corner of my left eye and I quickly wiped it away. I made a firm decision right then and there which was the begining of the end to my military carrer. I wrote a quick entry into my journal and begrudgingly headed back inside.

" No matter who wins this war We are not good. If we are victorious and history places us on the side of the right fine we are the goodguys. If this is what it means to be good, I don't want to be a good guy any more".