When, on Saturday the 28th of December 2013, we embarked on a political intervention at several metro stations against the “Xenios Zeus” state-organised pogroms and the detention centres for migrants, we already knew who we had against us: a state that continually gravitates towards totalitarianism and implements a racist immigration policy, materialised in the form of quasi-military operations; a police force that not only legally enjoys excessive powers, but has the de facto right to ignore the law anytime and whenever it feels like it; and the fascist and racist sections of greek society, which, in tune with state policy, believe that they may say and do anything they please against migrants without fear of sanctions or reprisal.
We also knew who we wanted to meet: those who feel that there is no alternative but to confront the brutality spreading around us and those who, due to their social position, find themselves on the receiving end of the most violent expressions of this condition. For this reason, a number of collectives active in this area and the wider centre of Athens decided to organise a number of similar interventions culminating in a demonstration on the 11th of January 2014. For this reason, we made sure that our leaflets, posters and flyers that we were carrying with us were in 7 different languages. For this reason, we chose the multi-racial neighbourhoods of Patisia, Ag. Nikolaos and Victoria as our field of intervention; neighbourhoods where a daily manhunt of the police against migrants takes place, and where the holy alliance of cops/fascists/mafia and the racist “citizens’ committees” has written the most “glorious” pages of its recent history. Pogroms, racist attacks, mafia expansion, constant police controls, detentions and arrests based on the colour of one’s skin, routine torture in the police stations…
But let us start from the beginning. At Ag. Nikolaos metro station, while we were handing out leaflets calling for a demonstration against detention centres and “Xenios Zeus” operations on the 11th of January, a number of locals, known for their racist activity in the area, attempt to attack some comrades, first verbally and then physically with a wooden stick – obviously disagreeing with the content of the material distributed – and are immediately confronted. While our intervention continues at Victoria Square, “Dias” and “Delta” motorised police units attack the crowd and arrest 12 people, amongst whom is a random person waiting for the train towards Piraeus. The arrest is conducted with the typical politeness and formality that characterises the greek cops, and the 12 of us are taken to the central police headquarters. After a long wait in the department of “confrontation of racist violence”, the checks and the sweet company of the single-cell “Dias” and “Delta” cops, we are put in line for recognition by the fascists. A while later, our formal arrest is announced to us. Fingerprints, more waiting and around midnight our lawyers present us the suit hastily tailored in the national security offices just for us: multiple felonies for all and some directly identified as perpetrators of “attempt of intended serious bodily harm”. The ridiculousness of the case takes a new turn, when amongst those identified by the “victims” of the attack is the passer-by who was arrested with us at the train platform.
This is how, in a rough time-line, we ended up in the detention cells. There, amongst other things, we confirmed that the cells of the police headquarters, as of most police stations in the country, operate as informal detention centres for migrants without papers. During the two days we spent there, we met people from Asia and Africa, held for months without having committed any crime, as well as Roma women, victims of the “beautifying” operations taking place in the centre of Athens – all people who are being consistently denied basic rights that we, as “greek citizens”, enjoy even when we find ourselves in the position of the detained or accused. Some people had already spent 6 months in various police stations, and had no idea what lies in store for them in the future, no idea about the duration of their detention, no idea about if and when they would be deported. These people nonetheless retained their dignity and smile. We shared the few things that we were allowed to have in there, we exchanged experiences and opinions, we parted with strong emotions, confirming that solidarity and the common experience of a common position is what preserves strength and courage in this hellhole.
On Sunday morning we are photographed and then led to the prosecutor. There, the bloated charges fall to two misdemeanours (“dangerous bodily harm” and “resistance to authority”) and we go through the typical procedure before being taken back to the police headquarters. But this time, something doesn’t seem right. While all of us have our id cards returned, the passport of comrade E.M. (who is of albanian origin) is withheld without any explanation, something that raises our suspicions. Despite our protest, the same thing happens the next morning, shortly before we are taken to the court again. In the courtroom, and before the process starts, we are informed by our lawyers that there is an order by the police to detain E.M., with the aim of deporting him. Obviously, the cops are making use of an article of the new anti-immigration law, according to which they have the right to detain and deport migrants, should they judge that the latter constitute a threat to public safety and order. It is the same article that was used against the two street-vendors who were arrested outside of the Economic School of Athens and who, despite being acquitted by the court, are still held in police custody.
The court decides to postpone the trial until the 8th of January 2014, and releases us. However, the cops insist on detaining comrade E.M.. The comrades who are in the courtroom attempt to hinder this development with their fighting stance. Commotion prevails, the judges are arraigned by the crowd and caught in perplexity, the police forces present lose control over the situation and finally the intervention of a riot unit is needed to restore order and kidnap the comrade. Afterwards, the comrade is taken to the hellhole of Petrou Ralli (a transit police station for migrants) where he is held for one day before his release the afternoon of the day after. Let us provide a clue indicating the situation over there: a large part of the incarcerated stated that they would prefer to be taken to a detention centre, like Amygdaleza, rather than remain in the “black hole” of this transit police station. Some time earlier, detainees in the police headquarters had told us a similar story: better here (in the headquarters), than in the police station of Ag. Panteleimonas… between a rock and a hard place.
Despite the ordeal we went through and the charges we still face, we come out of this experience stronger. And this we owe first of all to all the comrades who embraced our struggle, who came in solidarity outside the police headquarters on Saturday night and Monday afternoon, on Sunday and Monday at the courthouse, on Tuesday morning at the Petrou Ralli transit police station. We owe it to the cops’ uneasy looks, each and every time their attempts to break our unity proved fruitless. We owe it, lastly, to all those prisoners, both migrants and non-migrants, who despite the fact that they find themselves caught in the clogs of the machine, under the most unfavourable conditions, retain their dignity, their militancy and their humanity.
From now on, we continue even more certain about our choices, more determined about their importance in this dystopia. Because we need each other in order to tear down the walls that separate us from others.
January 2nd 2014
