Poster for the evicted squat 111 that will be stuck on the streets in the coming days. Below is the text of the occupation and comrades.
In the early morning of Friday 22 July armoured forces of repression entered squat 111 and then evicted it and sealed it with an armoured door, the measures of which seem to have been taken in advance. They confiscated material and, in collaboration with the ever-willing establishment, tried to create an impression, among other things, with sharp kitchen knives and beer.
What is ultimately a squat has been an internal preoccupation from the beginning of their history. It’s the walls; it’s the relationships; it all gets complicated and changed in the course of the scythe of history. All, however, are elevated to full-light stars that point the way to the struggle for freedom and life. Simple as that. These walls, stable and immovable until recently, have housed relationships that are strong but complex and fluid in nature. The paradox of the Argo demonstrates the contradiction of this essentialist conception of the detached and self-contained/moving nature of abiotic beings by linking them to their historical position and the perception of the living beings who observe them and yet are life-giving energies for them. Placing them in dialectical relation to the surrounding world. Squats, therefore, are value-wise equally their walls equally their history, their fixed and transient world. Perhaps one of the most important roles they perform beyond the production of public discourse, interventions of all kinds and intensities, events, is the sharpening of consciences. Our squat, our big house, certainly, although it has fallen short in many ways, if it was anything, was a ‘matrix’ of well-ordered steel consciences that, through word and deed, gave and give steadily from their post in the struggle for freedom. It hosted human and non-human animals, material and archival blossoms on the tree of the struggle for the liberation of nature, land, animals and people. The eleven was neither silence nor storm. The eleven was simply a part of the larger silence before the storm we vowed would come. A page in the tomes of movement history, a thorn in the flesh, another crack in the silence of alienation. “Never say you lost something, better to say you got it back.” Not to the state dregs, nor to oblivion, but to the inevitable end of beings. This knowledge to us non-owners, the natives of cities who have always lived trying not to be trapped does not frighten us. Neither wreckage nor loss frightens us. But we are not comfortable with anything less than everything.
The reality is that from today nothing will ever be the same. Over the years in the squat we have bonded, built relationships, acted. We have engaged with a plethora of issues, we have spoken and acted to grasp the elusive. We tried to be there, alongside the prisoners of social war, the non-human animals, against fascist, nationalist and state narratives. There were many times when we were threatened by potential evacuations, power and water cuts, fascist attacks and each time we tried to regroup and move on, always with our common refusals, desires and structured comradeships as the main link. So although nothing will ever be the same, we are still here. This profound loss is not enough to either stop us or numb us. We continue to exist because squats have always been and will always be more than the walls in which we have lived and fermented.
P.S. We declare our unequivocal solidarity with the imprisoned comrade G. Michailidis who has been on hunger strike since 23 May. Strength to all those incarcerated people who also went on hunger strike as a sign of solidarity.
P.S. The bulletproof vest you found, keep it. We hope that one day you will need it.
“HANGOUTS, BASES, HIDEOUTS, SQUATS AGAINST A WORLD OF SUBJUGATION AND DECAY
A MULTIFORM STRUGGLE AND RAGE FOR LIFE, TO SQUAT THE WHOLE EARTH
THE SQUATS ARE AXES OVER YOUR HEADS SPINNING, SPINNING, SPINNING, SPINNING…
Squat 111 and comrades
Poster (in Greek)
Source: Blessed is the Flame