Bericht aus Genua
Genoa July 21
By Starhawk
I think I am calm, that I am not in shock, but my fingers are trembling as I write this. We were up at the school that serves as a center for media, medical and trainings. We had just finished our meeting and were talking, making phone calls, when we heard shouts and sirens and the roar of people yelling, objects breaking. The cops had come and they were raiding the center. We couldnot get out of the building because there were two many people at the entrance. Lisa grabbed my hand and we went up, running up the five flights of stairs, up to the very top. Jeffrey joined us, people were scattering and looking for places to hide. We werenot panicking but my heart was pounding and I could hardly catch my breathe. We found an empty room, a couple of tables, grabbed some sleeping bags to cover our heads if we got beaten. And waited. Helicopters were buzzing over the building, we could hear doors being slammed and voices shouting below, then quiet. Someone came in, walked around, left. I couldnot seem to breath deep and I had an almost uncontrollable cough but I controlled it.
By Starhawk
I think I am calm, that I am not in shock, but my fingers are trembling as I write this. We were up at the school that serves as a center for media, medical and trainings. We had just finished our meeting and were talking, making phone calls, when we heard shouts and sirens and the roar of people yelling, objects breaking. The cops had come and they were raiding the center. We couldnot get out of the building because there were two many people at the entrance. Lisa grabbed my hand and we went up, running up the five flights of stairs, up to the very top. Jeffrey joined us, people were scattering and looking for places to hide. We werenot panicking but my heart was pounding and I could hardly catch my breathe. We found an empty room, a couple of tables, grabbed some sleeping bags to cover our heads if we got beaten. And waited. Helicopters were buzzing over the building, we could hear doors being slammed and voices shouting below, then quiet. Someone came in, walked around, left. I couldnot seem to breath deep and I had an almost uncontrollable cough but I controlled it.
Genoa July 21
By Starhawk
I think I am calm, that I am not in shock, but my fingers are trembling as I write this. We were up at the school that serves as a center for media, medical and trainings. We had just finished our meeting and were talking, making phone calls, when we heard shouts and sirens and the roar of people yelling, objects breaking. The cops had come and they were raiding the center. We couldnot get out of the building because there were two many people at the entrance. Lisa grabbed my hand and we went up, running up the five flights of stairs, up to the very top. Jeffrey joined us, people were scattering and looking for places to hide. We werenot panicking but my heart was pounding and I could hardly catch my breathe. We found an empty room, a couple of tables, grabbed some sleeping bags to cover our heads if we got beaten. And waited. Helicopters were buzzing over the building, we could hear doors being slammed and voices shouting below, then quiet. Someone came in, walked around, left. I couldnot seem to breath deep and I had an almost uncontrollable cough but I controlled it.
I lay there remembering we had lots and lots of people sending us love and protection and I was finally able to breathe. The light went on. Through a crack between the tables, I could see a helmet, a face. A big Italian cop with a huge paunch loomed over us. He told us to come out. He did not seem in beating mode, but we stayed where we were, tried to talk to him in English and Spanish and the few Italian words I know: paura fear and pacifisti. He took us down to the third floor, where a whole lot of people were sitting, lined up against the walls.
We waited. Someone came in, demanding to know whether there was someone there from Irish Indy media. We waited. Lawyers arrived: The police left. For some arcane reason of Italian law, because it was a media place we had some right to be there, although the school across the street was also a media center and they went in there and beat people up. We watched for a long time out the windows. They began carrying people out on stretchers. One, Two, a dozen or more. A crowd had gathered and were shouting "Assessini! Assesini!" The brought out the waking wounded, arrested them and took them away. We believe they brought someone out in a body bag.
The crowd below was challenging the cops and the cops were challenging the crowd and suddenly a huge circle of media gathered, bright camera lights. Monica, who is hosting us and is with the Genoa Social Forum, came up and found us. She had been calling embassies and media and may have saved us from getting hurt once the cops finished with the first building. All the time there were helicopters thrumming and shining bright lights into the building. A few brave men were holding back the angry crowd, who seemed ready to charge the line of riot cops that was formed up in front of the school, shields up and gas masks on. "Tranquilo, tranquilo" the men were saying, holding up their hands and restraining the angry crowd from a suicidal charge. I was on the phone home, then back to the window, back to the phone. Finally, the cops went away. We went down to the first floor, outside, heard the story. They had come in to the rooms where people were sleeping. Everyone had raised up their hands, calling out "pacifisti! Pacifist!" And they beat the shit out of every person there. There is no pretty way to say it. We went into the other building: there was blood at every sleeping spot, pools of it in some places, stuff thrown around, computers and equipment trashed. We all wandered around in shock, not wanting to think about what is happening to those they arrested, to those they took to the hospital. We know that they have arrested everyone they take to the hospital, taken people to jail and tortured them. One of the young Frenchmen from our training, Vincent, had his head badly beaten on Friday in the street. In jail, they took him into a room, twisted his arms behind his back and banged his head on the table. Another man was taken into a room covered with pictures of Mussolini and pornography, and alternately slapped around and then stroked with affection in a weird psychological torture. Others were forced to shout, "Viva El Duce! " Just in case it is not clear that this is Fascism. Italian variety, but it is coming your way. It is the lengths they will go to to defend their power. It is the lie that globalization means democracy. I can tell you, right now, tonight, this is not what democracy looks like.
I have got to stop now. We should be safe if we can make our way back to where we are stayiing. Call the Italian Embassy. Go there, shame them! We may not be able to mount another demonstration tomorrow here if the situation stays this dangerous. Please, do something!
By Starhawk
I think I am calm, that I am not in shock, but my fingers are trembling as I write this. We were up at the school that serves as a center for media, medical and trainings. We had just finished our meeting and were talking, making phone calls, when we heard shouts and sirens and the roar of people yelling, objects breaking. The cops had come and they were raiding the center. We couldnot get out of the building because there were two many people at the entrance. Lisa grabbed my hand and we went up, running up the five flights of stairs, up to the very top. Jeffrey joined us, people were scattering and looking for places to hide. We werenot panicking but my heart was pounding and I could hardly catch my breathe. We found an empty room, a couple of tables, grabbed some sleeping bags to cover our heads if we got beaten. And waited. Helicopters were buzzing over the building, we could hear doors being slammed and voices shouting below, then quiet. Someone came in, walked around, left. I couldnot seem to breath deep and I had an almost uncontrollable cough but I controlled it.
I lay there remembering we had lots and lots of people sending us love and protection and I was finally able to breathe. The light went on. Through a crack between the tables, I could see a helmet, a face. A big Italian cop with a huge paunch loomed over us. He told us to come out. He did not seem in beating mode, but we stayed where we were, tried to talk to him in English and Spanish and the few Italian words I know: paura fear and pacifisti. He took us down to the third floor, where a whole lot of people were sitting, lined up against the walls.
We waited. Someone came in, demanding to know whether there was someone there from Irish Indy media. We waited. Lawyers arrived: The police left. For some arcane reason of Italian law, because it was a media place we had some right to be there, although the school across the street was also a media center and they went in there and beat people up. We watched for a long time out the windows. They began carrying people out on stretchers. One, Two, a dozen or more. A crowd had gathered and were shouting "Assessini! Assesini!" The brought out the waking wounded, arrested them and took them away. We believe they brought someone out in a body bag.
The crowd below was challenging the cops and the cops were challenging the crowd and suddenly a huge circle of media gathered, bright camera lights. Monica, who is hosting us and is with the Genoa Social Forum, came up and found us. She had been calling embassies and media and may have saved us from getting hurt once the cops finished with the first building. All the time there were helicopters thrumming and shining bright lights into the building. A few brave men were holding back the angry crowd, who seemed ready to charge the line of riot cops that was formed up in front of the school, shields up and gas masks on. "Tranquilo, tranquilo" the men were saying, holding up their hands and restraining the angry crowd from a suicidal charge. I was on the phone home, then back to the window, back to the phone. Finally, the cops went away. We went down to the first floor, outside, heard the story. They had come in to the rooms where people were sleeping. Everyone had raised up their hands, calling out "pacifisti! Pacifist!" And they beat the shit out of every person there. There is no pretty way to say it. We went into the other building: there was blood at every sleeping spot, pools of it in some places, stuff thrown around, computers and equipment trashed. We all wandered around in shock, not wanting to think about what is happening to those they arrested, to those they took to the hospital. We know that they have arrested everyone they take to the hospital, taken people to jail and tortured them. One of the young Frenchmen from our training, Vincent, had his head badly beaten on Friday in the street. In jail, they took him into a room, twisted his arms behind his back and banged his head on the table. Another man was taken into a room covered with pictures of Mussolini and pornography, and alternately slapped around and then stroked with affection in a weird psychological torture. Others were forced to shout, "Viva El Duce! " Just in case it is not clear that this is Fascism. Italian variety, but it is coming your way. It is the lengths they will go to to defend their power. It is the lie that globalization means democracy. I can tell you, right now, tonight, this is not what democracy looks like.
I have got to stop now. We should be safe if we can make our way back to where we are stayiing. Call the Italian Embassy. Go there, shame them! We may not be able to mount another demonstration tomorrow here if the situation stays this dangerous. Please, do something!
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(Moderationskriterien von Indymedia Deutschland)
(Moderationskriterien von Indymedia Deutschland)
Ergänzungen
auf deutsch
Hier ist die Übersetzung
von Starhawk
Ich glaube, dass ich ruhig bin und nicht unter Schock
stehe, aber meine Finger zittern, waehrend ich das
schreibe. Wir sind oben in der Schule, die als Zentrum
fuer Medien, fuer medizinisches und fuer Ausbildung
genutzt wird. Wir hatten unsere Treffen gerade beendet
und fuehrten Telefongespraeche, als wir Rufe hoerten
und Sirenen, schreiende Leute und zerbrechende Gegen-
staende. Die Bullen waren gekommen und stuermten das
Zentrum. Wir konnten nicht aus dem Gebaeude raus, weil am
Eingang zuviele Leute waren. Lisa nahm meine Hand und wir
rannten die fuenf Treppeb hoch bis ganz nach oben.
Jeffrey kam zu uns. Die Leute verteilten sich und suchten
nach Verstecken. Wir gerieten nicht in Panik, aber mein
Herz raste und ich kriegte kaum Luft. Wir fanden einen
leeren Raum mit ein paar Tischen und schnappten uns ein
paar Schlafsaecke um unsere Koepfe zu schuetzen, falls wir
geschlagen wuerden. Wir warteten. Hubschrauber droehnten
ueber dem Gebaeude und unten konnten wie Tuerenschlagen
und Leute rufen hoeren; dann war es ruhig. Einige kamen
rein, gingen herum, verschwanden. I wagte kaum tief Luft
zu hilen und hatte einen fast unkontrollierbaren Husten
- aber ich kontrollierte ihn.
Da lag ich und rief mir ins Gedaechtnis, dass es ganz
viele Leute gibt, die uns Liebe und Schutz zusenden und
ich konnte endlich atmen. Das Licht ging an. Durch einen
Spalt zwischen den Tischen konnte ich einen Helm sehen,
ein Gesicht. Ein grosser italienischer Bulle mit einem
riesigen Bauch wurde ueber uns sichtbar. Er sagte, wir
sollten herauskommen. Er schien nicht in Pruegelstimmung
zu sein, aber wir blieben wo wir waren und versuchten auf
englisch und spanisch mit ihm zu reden und die paar Worte
italienisch, die ich kannte: "paura" "Angst" und
"pacifisti". Er nahm uns mit runter in die dritte Etage,
wo eine ganze Reihe Leute gegen die Wand gelehnt sassen.
Wir warteten. Jemand kam rein und wollte wissen, ob
jemand von Indymedia Irland da sei. Wir warteten.
Anwaelte kamen an: Die Polizei verschwand. Wegen
irgendeines unbekannten italienischen Gesetzes durften
wir da bleiben, weil es ein Ort der Medien war, obwohl
die Schule auf der anderen Strassenseite auch ein
Medienzentrum war und sie da reingingen und Leute
zusammenschlugen. Wir schauten lange Zeit aus den
Fenstern. Sie fingen an, Leute auf Tragen rauszubringen.
Eine, zwei, ein Duzend oder mehr. Eine Menge hatte sich
versammelt und rief "Assassini! Assasini" ["Moerder"].
Sie brachen die wachen Verletzten raus, nahmen sie fest
und brachten sie weg. Wir glauben sie haben jemanden in
einem Leichensack rausgebracht.
Die Menge unten forderte die Polizei heraus und die Polizei
die Menge. Ploetzlich war da ein grosser Kreis von Presse-
leuten und helle Kamaralichter. Monica, unsere Gastgeberin
vom Genua Social Forum, kam herauf und fand uns. Sie hatte
Botschaften und Medien angerufen und hat uns vielleicht
davor bewahrt, geschlagen zu werden, nachdem die Bullen
mit dem ersten Gebaeude fertig waren. Die ganze Zeit
ratterten Hubschrauber deren Scheinwerfer hell in die
Gebaeude strahlten. Eingie tapfere Leute hielten die
Menge zurueck, die bereit schien, die Reihe von Riot-
Bullen anzugreifen, die sich mit Schilden und aufge-
setzten Gasmasken vor der Schule formiert hatte.
"Tranquillo, tranquillo" ["ruhig"] sagten sie, hoben
ihre Haende und hielten die wuetende Menge von einem
selbstmoerderischen Angriff zurueck. Ich war am Telefon
und rief zuhause an, dann wieder am Fenster, dann wieder
am Telefon. Schliesslich zogen die Bullen ab. Wir gingen
runter in den ersten Stock, nach draussen, hoerten die
Geschichte. Sie waren in die Raeume gekommen wo die Leute
schliefen. Alle hatten die Haende gehoben und riefen
"Pacifisti, pacifisti". Und sie schlugen alle windelweich
[beat the shit out of every person]. Dafuer gibt es keine
schoenen Worte. Wir gingen in das andere Gebaeude: Da war
an jedem Schlafplatz Blut, an manchen Stellen Lachen,
rumgeworfene Sachen, zerstoerte Computer und Ausruestungen.
Wir alle liefen schockiert umher und wollten uns nicht
vorstellen, was mit den Festgenommen passiert, mit denen,
die sie ins Krankenhaus gebracht haben. Wir wissen, dass
sie alle festgenommen haben, die sie ins Krankenhaus
gebracht haben, dass sie Leute in den Knast gebracht und
gefoltert haben. Ein junger Franzose von unserem Training,
Vincent, hat am Freitag auf der Strasse einen ueblen
Schlag auf den Kopf bekommen. Im Knast haben sie ihn in
einen Raum gebracht, ihm den Arm auf den Ruecken gedreht
und seinen Kopf auf den Tisch geknallt. Ein anderer Mann
wurde in einen Raum mit Mussolini- und Pornobildern
gebracht und in einer seltsamen Art von Psychofolter
abwechselnd geschlagen und gestreichelt. Andere wurden
gezwungen, "Viva il Duce!" ["Hoch lebe der Duce = Mussolini"]
zu rufen !! Nur falls nicht klar ist, dass das Faschismus
ist. Die italienische Variante, aber sie kommt zu dir. So
weit werden sie gehen, um ihre Macht zu verteidigen. Es ist
die Luege, dass Globalisierung Demokratie bedeutet. Ich
kann euch jetzt sagen, dass Demokratie nicht so aussieht.
Ich muss jetzt aufhoeren. Wir sollten in Sicherheit sein,
wenn wir den Weg zurueck zu unserer Unterkunft schaffen.
Ruft die italienische Botschaft an. Geht dort hin - Schande
ueber sie! Wenn die Situation so gefaehrlich bleibt,
koennen wir morgen vielleicht keine Demo aufziehen.
Bitte , tut etwas!