Every 10th of March time pins the minute markers to zero. There are no hours, only moments of reflection on the burden of responsibility that each and every one of us carries in the continuation of the revolutionary event. For the moral, political and militant duty in the revolutionary war. A crack like a battle cry, in a night where death has conquered fear. The physical death we so lament – in the world of death – is less pernicious than the death that is marketed as life.
12 Marches ago, comrade and member of the Revolutionary Struggle, Lambros Fountas, was executed in a gunfight in Daphne by a crew of uniformed terrorists during a preparatory action by the organization. Lambros lived his entire life on the front lines of the anti-authoritarian conflict – with paper, with flag, with gun in hand. That’s how he breathed his last breath in the last battle, on the front line. In life a thunderbolt and in death a wolf. Lambros is the fuse of revolutionary intolerance and will live on in the flames of revolutionary violence. From the fires of the urban metropolitan fields to the guerrilla blasts in the mountains of the Middle East and Latin America.
Comrade Lambros Fountas is a flag of the struggle for overthrowal and revolution. A flag that waves proudly as the metropolitan fabric surrenders to the flames of revolutionary violence. Blood is the ink of history. And in spite of those who claim that history is written by the victors, we will be here to remind you that those who feel victorious carry in their carcasses the most crushing defeats. Defeat is not doom, it is death. Defeat is acceptance. It is unawareness of the dead of the class war. It is the bloodless surrender of collective history to the dustbin of oblivion. Defeat is assignment and messianism. Prolonging the battle, truce and compromise to a life under the class necessities and circumstances of the times. Defeat is not giving one’s life and freedom for the struggle, but living deadened by lack of social solidarity and class consciousness. Saving your own skin when the person next to you is faltering his steps, being left behind, dying. In the face of this dark period, it is a revolutionary duty to light up the way with the hope of overthrowal.
“He who is not armed dies…and he who does not die is buried alive: in prisons, in reformatories, in suburban hideouts, in – bought on credit – fully equipped modern kitchens and palatial bedrooms.” Ulrike Meinhoff – RAF
The first step in war is stimulus, then determination, then the leap forward. The leap into a new, illegally disobedient, life. I carry on my back a journey full of fire. Where the breaths, the few breaths hide ultimate freedom. A life given over to the struggle for something better, something different. And if the terrorist pack of Mitsotakis and Theodoricakos (Member of the Hellenic ParliamentNew Democracy party) invests in individual and collective defeat, in resignation and submission, in a spectacular end to radical resistance through my captivity, I will say that so many years of loyalty, commitment and consistency in the conflict lead to the proudest moment of this war.
12 Marches later, honouring in practice the absoluteness of the revolutionary ethos and consistency represented by comrade Lambros Fountas, I take political responsibility for my participation in the Anarchist Action Organization. I am proud that a part of my life is identified with a fighting figure, flesh of the flesh of anarchist history, which stood with its small forces, with ethos and consistency in the disputes and tasks of the anti-authoritarian conflict. I am proud of the comrades, alongside whom, Anarchy was a word full of passion and sincerity. I am unrepentantly proud because my joining was a conscious act based on the social, political and militant necessity of anarchist action, as an analytical tool of reflection, as a mound of justification, as an absolute attitude of life.
Anarchist Action is a militant formation of conflict and defence of propaganda through action. It is an organization that has put the entire power structure and relations of exploitation in the anti-authoritarian sights, turning the word solidarity into an unyielding condition of existence. It has stood hostile and with its head held high to this day against the State and the mercenary army of occupation of democracy, the militarist fabric, the doctrine of the sacred mafia, the patriarchal stench and the national trunk, the temples and the faces of capitalist alienation, the diplomatic interests and the power contracts of a country drenched in blood.
In the face of people without faces, without morals, values and principles, who oppress the lives of the proletarian base, I stand today unbowed, unrepentant, intransigent with the same single-minded commitment to the revolutionary cause. I do not compromise with the uncompromising, I am not silent in the face of injustice because in my life I have learned to defend to the death the just and the necessary. Having carved a path full of difficulties and blows, arrests and convictions, beatings and torture in sections, I declare that nothing has been able to give me second thoughts, to lead me to a cheap sellout of the individual and collective path for a few dead breaths of “freedom”. Everything was nothing but cheap dead-end blows to a body that for years has carried within it an unscathed heart. A heart with a pulse like the beating of revolutionary hostilities. A heart that beats for Anarchy.
I take political responsibility for my participation in Anarchist Action, because every step along the way has been a step of deep commitment to the tasks of anarchist guerrilla warfare. With modesty and humility, deep appreciation and admiration for those who have written a special page in the history of radical subversion. With the hope and certainty that nothing ends, that the insurgent flame of franchise is not extinguished.
Committed body and soul to the vein of fire, I remain an unrepentant anarchist, defending the path of rupture and conflict with all forms of power. Ideas are not bought, the passion for freedom is not disciplined, revolutionary dignity is not apologized for in the tribunals of terror. I will defend my proud captivity to the end, even if the sun has to rise in the west, recalling a collective promise: time always counts down for everyone. Wait, wait, wait, attack.
Proudly a member of Anarchist Action. Proudly committed to anarchist guerrilla warfare. Revolution first and always.
