[Marxism] An account of Dec 20tyh, 2001, on this very list

Nestor Gorojovsky nestorgoro at fibertel.com.ar
Fri Dec 22 06:49:22 MST 2006


[I turned to the list archives to see if the events in Buenos Aires 
that day, and the day before, were well covered. I must agree with 
Gary McLennan who, on those same days, informed that for those away 
from the events this list was (sic) a "boon".  It still is. 

This is part of what Pablo Malizzia, an average young Argentinean in 
his earliest 30s by those times, had to tell about the mobilisations. 
In order to understand why I believe that only a Groucho-Marxist of 
the "Left" can seriously consider herself or himself the "father" of 
the mobilisations, please read what follows: 

"The heat of the flames and the smoke raised up the gas, and it was 
much better to breath smelly burning trash than tear poison. It was 
by then we saw that a big column raising red flags and banners were 
standing five blocks back, by the obelisk. We all said "finally, the 
left is here". But the argentinian traditional left parties proved 
once again that they are not ready to accomplish their destiny 
staying back, five blocks away from the action, for another two hours 
while the rest of us were going back and forth without even feeling 
the tiredness. One hour later they took the decision and moved. The 
struggles remained more or less the same, for a while, going back and 
forward once and again, but now it was a little worse since the 
comrades refused to put down their big banners, that covered the view 
making it more complicated to avoid the flares, since you couldn't 
see where they came from. Then something amazing occurred. The 
"people's cavalry" appeared. A group of about fifty motorcycles in 
every shape and color appeared honking. Most of them were ridden by 
two persons, and the one in the back was carrying big stones. Then 
the bikes speed up, and disappeared in the black curtain of smoke 
that the fires expelled. We could only hear the noise of the motors 
for a few seconds, and then a lot of shots were heard. Then the 
bikers appeared back from the black smoke, bleeding from their knees 
and heads, with impacts of rubber bullets on their backs. It was 
around 4:30 pm" 

Many among you may wonder why did the "left" raise their banners 
under such a dangerous situation and with such stupid consequences. I 
will tell you why: it is because they wanted to gain "protagonism" to 
appear _as if they had been there organizing or mobilising the mob_; 
they raised their banners SO THAT YOU COULD SEE THEM ON TV, SPECIALLY 
OUTSIDE ARGENTINA. This is, more or less, what Popetroni does now. 
But this account by Pablo Malizzia, among myriad other testimonies, 
belies him. 

I must say that the rebel leadership of the CGT wasn't up to what it 
was expected from them, either. But at least they did not go with 
their union banners to the Plaza de Mayo and try to kidnap the 
movement... I leave you with Pablo M. now:]

When I woke up I turned on my TV set, and I saw that the historic
'Plaza de Mayo' was the new stage of what had started the night
before. As the ones that came before me must have felt that October
17th 1945, I could do nothing but attend. I took the subway heading
there, but they stopped it when we were half way from the Plaza, in a
useless attempt to stop people from getting there. In that moment I
realized that a lot of people in that train were also heading like 
me,
and we took buses and walked toward the Plaza. When we got to 9 de
Julio Avenue, the crowd was growing, and when we got to Roque S..Peña
street it was a human river flowing in a single direction. This last
is a diagonal street that communicates the Obelisk and the Plaza de
mayo, where the Pink House (the Presidential office) is located. 
There
were no parties there, no further flags than National flags, and 
among
the people there were as many males as females, from people in their
teens to people in their seventies. The songs that had been heard the
night before were once again sang, and we kept moving forward moved 
by
the will to get to the Plaza. How wrong we were. The police had the
firm intention to keep everybody away from the Plaza and they
demonstrated it when their gases started raining over our heads.
Everybody ran back as we realized how it would be: We had to get to 
the
Plaza and occupy it, and they had to avoid it. In those hard moments
everybody was helping everybody, unknown anonymous people sharing
water in a hell sunny day, teaching each other how to tie the T-shirt
wet over your mouth and nose in order to reduce the gas effects,
teaching each other not to wash your eyes, or the magnificent
properties of the lemon to heal the itch of the tear gas. I saw two
couples of guys take off their ties and give them to a couple of 
girls
for them to use those to cover their mouths and noses, since the 
girls
just couldn't take off their T-shirts as we men can do. Almost
everybody, including myself, learned all of this lessons in the hard
way in the worst place. And the tactics appeared naturally according
to each new situation that occurred. People took some iron hurdles
that were closing a phone company reparation, and moved them forward
creating a wall from side to side of the street to prevent policemen
from crossing it. Then the crowd moved forward, moving on and on the
iron frontier and gaining positions closer and closer to the Plaza.
But then the horses appeared. The mounted infantry charged against 
us,
in a number of ten or may be fifteen. Everybody ran back again, and
gases landed once again all over us. Some anonymous heroes stepped on
the flares, extinguishing them, and then everybody knew what to do if
one of them fell by your side. But then, in an unexplainable way,
thousands of people immediately understood that the policemen had
already used their loads, so everybody turned around and now it was 
us
that charged against the police, thousands of fists up, screaming and
running like a storm in a retaliation that made them turn around 
their
horses and escape back to the safety of the Plaza, where the main
police force was. The crowd was mad angry because of the brutal way
that police was attacking their own folks, and a rain of stones kept
cops in a distance. It was nasty to see  those girls in their early
twenties with their crying eyes swollen and red like the ass of a
monkey, thos But when the crowd got just a block away from the Plaza,
the horses charged again with their reloaded weapons, pushing us back
with their gases and  hitting savagely with their rubber sticks to 
all
those that remained back in the first line, blinded in their own
tears. But once they had used their flares, all the crowd turned
around once again, and the hunters became hunted once, and once, and
yet once again in a battle that took two or three hours. They chased
us, we stroke back, they fired at us, we made them escape. As time
passed, we starting recognizing each other, even in the crowd, and
after each attack we checked out around to see if the "blond girl 
with
a bearded boyfriend" or the "the guy in yellow" were OK. There were
fires burning all over, and that, far from being an 'act of 
vandalism'
was a necessity: The heat of the flames and the smoke raised up the 
gas,
and it was much better to breath smelly burning trash than tear
poison. It was by then we saw that a big column raising red flags and
banners were standing five blocks back, by the obelisk. We all said
"finally, the left is here". But the argentinian traditional left
parties proved once again that they are not ready to accomplish their
destiny staying back, five blocks away from the action, for another
two hours while the rest of us were going back and forth without even
feeling the tiredness. One hour later they took the decision and
moved. The struggles remained more or less the same, for a while,
going back and forward once and again, but now it was a little worse
since the comrades refused to put down their big banners, that 
covered
the view making it more complicated to avoid the flares, since you
couldn't see where they came from. Then something amazing occurred.
The "people's cavalry" appeared. A group of about fifty motorcycles 
in
every shape and color appeared honking. Most of them were ridden by
two persons, and the one in the back was carrying big stones. Then 
the
bikes speed up, and disappeared in the black curtain of smoke that 
the
fires expelled. We could only hear the noise of the motors for a few
seconds, and then a lot of shots were heard. Then the bikers appeared
back from the black smoke, bleeding from their knees and heads, with
impacts of rubber bullets on their backs. It was around 4:30 pm, and
President de la Rúa spoke. There were some radios among the people,
and everybody (may be including the police itself) stopped for a few
minutes to take a breath and to see what was going to happen with
the Chairman's speech. Everybody was expecting him to quit, and the
calm was short because he didn't. But it was not all, since Mr. De la
Rúa also took out importance to all the events that we were all going
through, as if there were not six casualties among the civilian 
people
that was only trying to express their opposition to the government.
Such a denying position put things even worst, making a large group 
of
people get really out of control. Besides, it was clear that there 
was
no way to get to the Plaza and the night was dangerously close. So
they started breaking the glasses of banks and all kind of companies,
they started taking out the furniture, tables, computers, chairs,
everything they found and set them on fire. Then I walked two girls
that I'd met there out of the smoke and the fire, and we got to the
Plaza de la República, were the obelisk is and the air was clearer.
There was a large number of people there, and then I realized that
Corrientes Avenue was also crowded and in combat. In that moment the
artillery entered the stage. The hydrant truck fires flares of tear
gas and hi pressure water. It came as a tank of fear, shooting a 
large
number of flares that crossed the air drawing white smoky tails 
behind
them, fired randomly on people. A large group counter attacked it, 
and
it had to disappear from were it had come from. The two girls and I
ran out of there as fast as we could, and after five or six blocks a
bus stopped and they could jump into, no matter where it was heading.
The sunset was beginning to paint the west, and I sat for the first
time in a long time, in the middle of a deserted 9 de Julio Avenue,
which is said to be the widest in the world. In that moment I
remembered my family, and I phoned my mother to ease her. Then she
told me that President de la Rúa had renounced. Then I knew that I
could go home.

Este correo lo ha enviado
Néstor Miguel Gorojovsky
nestorgoro at fibertel.com.ar
[No necesariamente es su autor]
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 
"La patria tiene que ser la dignidad arriba y el regocijo abajo".
Aparicio Saravia
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 






More information about the Marxism mailing list