TB, Suitcases, Frogs and Dogs: My 15th October

— Smush

I remember hearing birds sing that morning, Tui and others. I was just waking up in a tent in Wellington's town belt when I heard people yelling and screaming. What's going on? Are they just on their way home after a wild night out and stumbled across my girlfriend's home? Then torch light on the tent. "Get out of the tent! Get the fuck out of that tent!"

I was naked and scared. "I'm just putting some clothes..." "Get out of the fucking tent! Hands in the air!" I put on a singlet and some undies and pants, kissed Em and stepped out of the tent. Cops all around me. One was standing right in front of me pointing his big gun right in my face. He was wearing all black, balaclava, yelling at me. "Put your hands in the air! Get the fuck on the ground! Get on the ground!!!" I lay down. Face in the muddy earth. "Put your hands on your back!" He handcuffed me. A police dog was right in my face. Em had gotten out of the tent and was lying on the ground not far from me with a cop sitting on her back. He was hurting her hand. I yelled out to her: "You know your rights, aye?" "Shut the fuck up!" (That was the cop.)

Probably around 10 members of the 'Armed Offenders Squad,' a unit which "provides Police with the means of effectively and more safely responding to and resolving situations in which there is an actual or threatened use of firearms or other weapons against members of the public or Police" had surrounded the tent. Their guns, it turns out, were Bushmaster XM15 M4A3; a military-style weapon which can either be semi- or fully-automatic. These cops were positioned all around the tent. Some got lost in the bush and only found their way to the tent after a few minutes.

After being hand-cuffed, plain clothes cops started to appear. They were wearing bullet proof vests over their tie and shirt. I was taken up to Aro School, shivering from being cold and scared. I asked for my jersey and the cops put it over my shoulders and then placed me in an unmarked police car. Detective Robin Hutton placed me under arrest. Two other cops were in the car. They put on dust masks, saying that I had been staying with someone who has TB and that I might be contagious. "Were you aware that the person you were staying with has TB, Urs?" I didn't even look at him.

Cop Shop — the heart of the beast

The car drove off to the Wellington Central Police Station, avoiding Abel Smith Street (where our activist community centre was being raided). I've been processed at that police station four times before after being arrested at protests and have waited for my comrades to be released outside the station countless times. But it was the first time I was taken to an interview/interrogation room.

My arresting officer read out six charges for 'possession of weapons' and one for 'participating in a terrorist group' and wanted to know what I had to say. "Look, Urs, I'm sure you have lots of questions as to why you are here and we, too, have many questions." "I don't have any questions whatsoever and I'm not going to answer any of your questions." That was it — end of interview! I couldn't believe it. While driving down to the police station I got myself mentally prepared for the interrogation. 'What tactics will they use? Good cop — bad cop, like on TV? Telling me that Emily had told them 'everything'? Offering me a deal? Threatening me with Guantánamo or beating the shit out of me?' Well, I was ready for anything really. But no, a lame attempt of confusion: the TB story which I guess was supposed to scare me — ie. 'Do we have enough face masks for all the people in the court room later this afternoon?' (I should mention that I did not get to see a doctor in the three and a half weeks I spent in jail following my arrest — TB my arse!), a really lame offer of cooperation ('I'm sure you have lots of questions') and another go on the way to the holding cells ('We have some tapes we would like you to listen to so you get an idea what this investigation is about. Would you like to listen to them?' 'No' — is what I said; 'Get fucked' &mdash is what I thought. They knew.).

After the failed interview, I was charged with six counts of possession of weapons which took forever because the cop had to write everything down. They didn't charge me with 'participating in a terrorist group' which is section 13 of the 'Terrorism Suppression Act' (TSA) passed by parliament in 2002. At the time I didn't know that the police need consent of the Attorney-General to prosecute me under the TSA. I was confused to say the least.

I rang a couple of our activist lawyers. One was down there in no time and, wearing a dust-mask, joined me and the two cops who tried to interrogate me. So from then on he did the talking: "My client is not making a statement" and "no, my client does not want to give you a DNA sample." After being photographed, the arresting officer took me down to the holding cells where I was fingerprinted, stripped and given a blue rad suit (with hood) instead and put in the big holding cell. Toilet time, just so I could go for a walk and see if Em is around. Instead I saw Ira, Em's brother, in another cell and, while being processed, Val — another Wellington anarchist — walked passed. The cops said we will appear in court at 2pm so they drove me down there in an un-marked car. The capitalist media was down there already, of course, and as we were waiting for the garage door to open, cameras surrounded the car. I tried to hide my face and Hutton said: "I'm really sorry about this, Urs." Fuck you!

Court appearance No.1 — removing frogs

We appeared in the Wellington District Court that same afternoon. News was coming in from raids across the country. Ruatoki, a small Tuhoe community at the foot of the Urewera forest, had been blockaded by armed police and every car was stopped and searched. Arrests were reported in Auckland, Hamilton, Whakatane, Ruatoki, Palmerston North and us in Wellington. My lawyer said we should try and get bail straight away while the other lawyers weren't so keen. Us four activists decided to make a collective decision: we'll make a bail application later that week.

The court room was packed with our friends; everybody looking confused and concerned. 'What the fuck is going on here?' My friends' kid was in the court room, too. "Hi Urs" he yelled out. "Remove that child" &mdash the immediate response from the judge. "Love you frog!" I can't remember exactly what happened in court, and that would happen to me over and over again: I was too busy looking at all my friends and comrades in the dock and court room.

Ira and I were then taken to Rimutaka Prison in Upper Hutt while the two womyn were taken to Arohata Women's Prison in Tawa. That was the start of 26 days of incarceration.

Rimutaka Prison &mdash Terri the Terrorist

When walking into our new home, HM2 at Rimutaka, late on 15th October, the other prisoners already knew who we were. Here are the terrorists, here comes Greenpeace.

Between 40 and 60 prisoners live in one unit, usually sharing a cell. During the day, we'd get two hours in the wing and two in the yard. Twenty long hours are spent in your cell. The wing had a pool table, a public phone and a few tables and chairs. The yard is best described as a cage; sort of 20 meters long and 8 wide. We played rugby, touch and basketball.

We spent our yard and wing time with the same people. The other 12 were all members of the Mongrel Mob. (Unlike the prison in Auckland, gang members are separated at Rimutaka.) They were nice guys, looking after us and giving us new nicknames. Three Nazi-skins were in the same unit as us and abused us verbally. "Greenpeace sucks!" &mdash uhm, yes, I agree. But we never spent any time with them (lucky for them; the Mobsters would have given them the bash!).

It took a few days to work out how this shit-hole works. Filling out form after form, getting used to things taking forever (or never taking place) etc. On Thursday, after only four days, I had my first visit which was fantastic! Over the next three weeks, the visits along with the letters and messages of solidarity and support from Aotearoa and across the world is what kept me going.

The move to Auckland came unexpected. I had another court case in Wellington relating to a protest in 2006 and thought I'd stay around for that. But no, we were bussed across the North Island after one and a half weeks.

On Thursday morning of the second week, we were woken up early and then taken to the RO (Receiving Office). I gave one of my most brilliant speeches ever which got around five guards staring at me in silence: "Three things. Firstly, what you are doing right now is illegal. Moving us to Auckland is illegal under your own laws given that the alleged crime did not happen there nor am I from there. I do NOT consent to being moved to Auckland. Secondly, we are having a High Court hearing to challenge the move to Auckland. Thirdly, I will appear in the Wellington District Court before the court appearance in Auckland." Or something like that. I boarded the bus feeling good.

That bus ride was probably one of the most humiliating experiences in this whole saga. We sat in tiny individual cages with cameras pointed at us. I was cold and, well, not exactly comfy. At least we stopped at some interesting sites. It makes a trip so much more 'fun' when, instead of stopping at the Levin playground (which has a giant hamster wheel) and getting Fish'n'Chips in Taupo, you get to check out Linton Prison, Rangipo Prison (our lunch stop &mdash cup of tea and three sandwiches) and Waikeria Prison.

A.C.R.(a).P. &mdash Maoist prison guards and suitcase murderers

Auckland was different. Wing time was all day, from 7.30am to 5.30pm. And the time in the wing was spent with around 50 other prisoners. After spending our first night in unit Foxtrot, we were moved the following morning after concerns for our safety in that unit. So we ended up in Echo for two weeks.

Some of the people I met there: the suitcase murderers (they were actually called 'Suitcase 1, 2 and 3' &mdash number 4 ended up, chopped up, in the suitcase); a guy who chopped his wife's head off with an axe when he found her in bed with someone else; 'Dog Dog,' a Mongrel Mobster from Dog town (aka Waipawa) who talked about the Mob all day; Luis who was on bail for dealing pot but was arrested for breaching his bail conditions (24 hour curfew) because he went to work (he is a baker). "How can I pay the bills and buy food for my kids? Where should I get the money from?"

There was a Maoist prison guard &mdash not joking! I was called in to the Principal Corrections Officer's office one day for a security assessment. We talked about the books I was reading (books about the Wobblies, Angela Davis and the Paris Commune) and he said: "Well, I need to make sure then that you don't steal my badges behind you on the wall." I turned around and there were badges of Lenin and Mao on the wall and above the door. I cracked up laughing.

And there was Nik, Assole and TJ &mdash the Monopoly posse. We would play several games a day. The bank usually lost. I developed a polygraphic theory: if they don't crack after being challenged the third time, they usually tell the truth. An example: "You landed on Queen Street!" "No I didn't! I had a six." "No you didn't, you had a five. You owe me $2000!" "No, I don't. I got a six." "Liar, you had a five." "Ah yeah, true, I did." I hope that's not how they talk when being interrogated by the cops.

And of course Tuhoe freedom fighter Tame Iti.

Rights or Liberation &mdash The politics of it all

Here is what I wrote to the anarchist and activist community of Wellington while I was inside:

"I need to be quite frank here as I rather create debate than falling in a trap of not communicating or misunderstandings. Anything I say in this paragraph does not go against what I wrote [earlier on]; I'm truly thankful to everybody who is standing up right now &mdash too much!

"I do not think that what happened on 15th Oct. has to do with 'Civil Rights.' The police actions of that day have targeted a particular tribe in Aotearoa, Tuhoe, as well as people active in various activist groups who, more or less, identify as anarchists (or libertarian communists or anarcha-feminists etc.). As an anarchist, the state is not something I look to for protection; it is not an institution that in my opinion will do anything for the struggle against 'capitalist-colonialist-patriarchy' &mdash in fact, the opposite is true! The state's 'justice' system, police force and armies are protecting the interests of the ruling class, not the indigenous peoples, not the anarchists, not the workers, not womyn, not the environment.

"Therefore, I don't want rights, I want liberation!

"So now you might say/think 'ah, he's just a mad anarchist and I simply don't agree with his politics!' &mdash sweet, all good. Having different ideas around social organisation is a challenge every movement faces. And the last thing I want is for you to leave this movement that's emerging! :-) So what am I suggesting? I propose that we shift our collective focus away from the 'Rights,' the 'Legislations' and 'Acts' and instead look at what these recent attacks by the state are really about: Te Manamotuhake o Tuhoe!

[...]

"Freedom for all political prisoners around the world! Free Mumia Abu Jamal! Free Marco Camenisch! Free Leonard Peltier! Free Tame Iti!

"Solidarity with all the people around the world &mdash Burma, Oaxaca, Tonga, T?hoe &mdash who are experiencing the vicious brutality of the state.

"Solidarity with workers who have recently been on strike on the trains in France and the port of Auckland!

"Get behind Te Mana Motuhake o Tuhoe!"

I think this pretty much sums it up and is of course still true now, five months after the raids.

Almost certainly not the last time?

I don't know if we were the first anarchists to go to prison in Aotearoa &mdash I doubt it. Tom Barker, a member of the 'Industrial Workers of the World' spent months in jail in 1913/14 for his involvement in the Great Strike for allegedly giving 'one of the most seditious speeches of all time' (whether he was an anarchist at the time, I'm not certain). What I do think is that this almost certainly was not the last time anarchists spend time in prison in this country. We are arrested for our ideas &mdash for the thoughts of a free society, libertarian communism &mdash and/or for our action &mdash direct action &mdash and involvement in various movements in the struggle for social revolution.

As a comrade of mine put it: "We have to get used to the idea that we are criminals." The system will portray us as violent and mad extremists without any friends. The governmental and capitalist propaganda apparatus will try to convince people that there is no point in even looking at different ways of organising society. But it doesn't matter to us if a system that is the antithesis of what we struggle for calls us criminals and terrorists.

Hongihongi te whewheia

Not a lot has changed really since October 15th. Yes, we now know for sure that the police and the SIS are after us (all of us!). But then, it would have been naive to think otherwise.

However, we need to learn. In M?ori, there is a saying "Hongihongi te whewheia" &mdash "Know your enemy" (a 'hongi' being a 'nose kiss'). We need to know how the forces of the state think and operate. As it turns out, for example, they don't hunt freedom fighters down with tasers?

In the electronic times we live in, surveillance has become a whole heap easier. We can be sure that cars are bugged, phones are tapped, txts and emails read and bank accounts monitored. However, the biggest source of information for the oppressive forces are people who don't understand or ignore the basic principle of the struggle: solidarity! If you talk to the cops, you are compromising the freedom of yourself and others. And it is so simple &mdash don't talk to the cops! It doesn't matter how guilty or innocent you are; it doesn't matter whether the charge is 'obstruction' (an activist 'favourite') or 'committing a terrorist act' (a less preferred charge); it doesn't matter whether you are in an interrogation room with 15 cops or just at a demo with 15 people (and one cop); don't talk to the cops (about anything)!

From their statements in the capitalist media, we know that Chris Trotter and Bommer Bradbury are certainly not on our side (well, this writer was certain about Trotter for 'some' time). However, we also had to find out that people who we considered our comrades preferred to co-operate with the cops than with the people who were sitting in jail.

Other things to learn from are the practicalities of supporting people in prison, forming a support and resistance movement in the aftermath of the state's attacks, dealing with the capitalist media etc.

Where to from here?

My mother asked me recently: "Do anarchists always have to fight? Can't they just take it easy?" I wish we could. But I call myself an anarchist &mdash and please, you should too. I'm sick of descriptions like 'musician, peace activist, pacifist, Swiss, environmentalist' (although some of these labels are true) &mdash and as an anarchist, I want to know nothing but the struggle for freedom. I want to fight with my comrades for libertarian communism, for the destruction of colonialist-capitalist-patriarchy! So for all those who thought that the raids on our communities, the arrests and time in jail have changed my opinion of the state, think again.

Here are some things that I think, in no particular order, need to happen at the moment:

The time for resistance is now.

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