“police headquarters, politicians and newspapers; different names, same swine”
On October 1st, 2014, I was arrested, hooded and taken to an interrogation room of the antiterrorist unit. From 5pm until 1am, a bunch of hooded cops – and while I was handcuffed behind the back – took my DNA sample, fingerprints and (tried to take) my photographs by force, amid ironies, chokeholds, sprains and beatings, and threatened to electroshock me, thinking this would make me collaborate. At 1am, I saw unhooded cops for the first time, who told me that I am accused of terrorism. Until 5.30 in the morning, I remained in a 1×3 holding cell, always handcuffed behind my back. The next day they attempted to photograph me once again.
For my part, I abstained from food and water from the first moment, and demanded to speak with a lawyer. After 24 hours of detention, they eventually allowed me to notify a lawyer, and I managed to meet with her just for a few minutes before being brought to the prosecutor.
I share the above with fellow combatants as a small experience of struggle.
Whether or not the attitude of the State towards us is mild or harsh – this always depends on circumstances – it can never break us, so long as we are conscious of the responsibility that derives from our position as anarchists, in moments of adversity.
Hard times in the struggle are those that temper us with strong consciousness. In these circumstances, each of us upholds the ideals of the society we are fighting to build. A lot of blood has been shed in the struggle for emancipation from the classist society, and therefore only fools would expect us to bend in the face of any bullying of cops. I held a negative stance against the efforts of statist lackeys to extract my personal data for two reasons. First for the sake of my own values, as I believe every anarchist revolutionary should not give even an inch of ground to the classist enemy. And second because I was aware of the gravity of the case in which I am being implicated, so I wanted to protect my comradely and friendly environment from the crows holding me captive. While the Clouseaus were unable to find out my name, I was not at all willing to give it to them. At the time of this writing, two days after the arrest, the police have “finally” identified me.
It is clear that the officers of the antiterrorist squad and particularly their political superiors hoped to make a scoop out of my arrest, hence the leaks to the Press regarding the notebook containing “precisely-timed routes”, targets, bicycles and sausages.* They tailor their made-up story to fit their scenario; a scenario that, in the end, must always make them come out as winners.
The police and prosecutors have no business knowing what I did, who I am and why I was where I was caught; it’s really not their concern but mine. Therefore, I don’t need to offer an apologia to guardians of the bourgeois legality, but only to the revolutionary movement, the comrades and the people who choose not to live like a raya (slave).
I consider this first communication with the outside world to be necessary, since I am under no illusions that I won’t be sent to pretrial incarceration.
For now, I’m being held captive in the hands of servants of the Capital, but my heart still belongs to the camp of revolution.
The struggle continues.
Long live the revolution.
Long live Anarchy.
from the PQ on 173, Alexandras Avenue
early on October 4th, 2014
* Translators’ note: While the comrade – who was arrested in the district of Vyronas, Athens – was still unidentified, the chief of police publicly claimed that one of the most striking “findings” were handwritten notes deemed code words for explosives.