International Day of Action to End Deathtraps: Poughkeepsie

SECURITY RUNAROUND!

by Schuyler Kempton & Cameron Ohl

The media didn't pick up Watch the Gap's third action against Gap deathtraps outside the Poughkeepsie Galleria earlier today---but mall security certainly did!

The rally was organized as one of 33 events worldwide marking the International Day of Action to End Deathtraps, organized by United Students Against Sweatshops and the Gap Deathtraps campaign.

Our action, which took place outside of the mall's main entrance-way, was attended by all of three people at first, Schuyler Kempton and his mother's friends Eric and Suzanne White. Nevertheless, two security officials approached us no later than 5 minutes into the gathering. The first official asked us what the rally was about, and was informed (or perhaps reminded) of our intention to protest Gap over workers' safety in Bangladesh. He said (sincerely, we think) that he supported our cause but told us nevertheless to get off mall property with our signs and leaflets (because the mall manager didn't like it), warning that if we stayed on property we would run into people who were not as nice as he.

We were then served notices about the rules of conduct in malls owned by Pyramid Management Group, the parent company of the Galleria. At this time, with Dutchess County Legislator Joel Tyner and Schuyler's parents also in tow (rendering us six strong) we decamped to the side of the road by Route 9 to wave our signs.

On Route 9, we were pleased to be free of security harassment, swelling to ten in number with the arrival of Democratic Dutchess County Legislature hopeful Charlie Davenport, former Poughkeepsie Journal reporter Larry Hertz, my mother's friend Michael, and the HV Radical's own Cameron Ohl. Schuyler's father, by no means a self-proclaimed activist, even distributed fliers to those sitting in their cars at the nearby stop sign.

Following the rally, seven activists remained in an attempt to drop off letters of protest to the managers of the Galleria's Banana Republic and Old Navy stores. That was not so easy.

To begin with, two security cars had placed themselves on opposite sides of where we had parked to walk down to Route 9. They didn't bother us, but served well for the purposes of intimidation. Then, as we attempted to enter the mall itself, one official stopped us to ask what our next move would be. Schuyler informed them that we simply intended to speak with store managers: No signs, no soliciting. That was enough to get us off the hook.

As we went to the Old Navy store, several mall cops were around, although they were also likely there to monitor a long line of customers waiting to buy $1 flip-flops, which went on sale today (max. 5 apiece, folks).

The flip-floppers were being tended to by the store manager, so we were only able to drop of the letter without comment. The 7 agitators moved on.

At Banana Republic, there were no excess customers in the store, although there were at least two security officials outside of it. Inside, Schuyler asked for the manager, while Joel reviewed the store's cologne collection (so as to feign interest in the merchandise, he explained).

For no obvious reason except to avoid a conversation about Gap, Inc.'s labor practices, the manager claimed she was busy and couldn't speak with us. While we had previously enjoyed a lengthy, if at times tense, conversation with the manager of the Galleria's Gap store, she had no idea we would walk in, while it was clear that her counterpart at Banana Republic was expecting us. As we exited the store, a security official spoke into her walkie-talkie: "They've left Banana Republic."

If nothing else, today should show us that the fundamental reaction of corporate power to grassroots protest is fear. Not amusement or even anger. Fear.

It was fear that made the manager of the Poughkeepsie Galleria prevent us from holding our signs and handing out fliers. It was fear that made the Galleria send in security officials to track and harass us. And it was fear that made managers of stores owned by Gap, Inc. quick to show us the door.

Fear for profits? Perhaps. Fear for their jobs? Likely. But, and I do sincerely believe this, also a fear that their accepted view of the world and their internalized ideas of what is acceptable and what is unacceptable, what is right and what is wrong, might get thrown irreparably out of whack.

A fear that perhaps what is fed to all of us as natural and right on a daily basis is in fact profoundly unnatural and completely wrong.

We 10 scraggly protesters represented a threat to the established economic and ideological order. And while the only reaction from the powers that be is to act out of fear, we have the unique ability to act out of a powerful sense of solidarity. That's what brought us out to defend the rights of workers in Bangladesh today, and that is what we have to cling to when times get rough.

Photo: Daniel Kempton (a.k.a. Pop)

Iraq Vet Suicide Note: "I Was Made to Participate...In War Crimes"

Dan Somers (right) performing at his band’s CD Release Show (Phoenix New Times/Melissa Fossum)

by Rania Khalek, Dispatches from the Underclass

On June 10, 2013, 30-year-old Iraq War veteran Daniel Somers killed himself after writing a powerful letter to his family explaining his reasons for doing so.

“My mind is a wasteland filled with visions of incredible horror, unceasing depression, and crippling anxiety, even with all of the medications the doctors dare give,” reads the letter, which Somers’ family allowed Gawker to publish, Somers went on to reveal the source of his pain:

During my first deployment, I was made to participate in things, the enormity of which is hard to describe. War crimes, crimes against humanity. Though I did not participate willingly, and made what I thought was my best effort to stop these events, there are some things that a person simply can not come back from. I take some pride in that, actually, as to move on in life after being part of such a thing would be the mark of a sociopath in my mind. These things go far beyond what most are even aware of.

To force me to do these things and then participate in the ensuing coverup is more than any government has the right to demand. Then, the same government has turned around and abandoned me. They offer no help, and actively block the pursuit of gaining outside help via their corrupt agents at the DEA.

Though he offers no specifics about the abuses he witnessed and/or participated in, we do know that Somers was a part of the Tactical Human-Intelligence Team (THT) intelligence unit in Baghdad “where he ran more than 400 combat missions as a machine gunner in the turret of a Humvee, interviewed countless Iraqis ranging from concerned citizens to community leaders and and government officials, and interrogated dozens of insurgents and terrorist suspects,” the kinds of US operations that ended in torture and murder on more than one occasion. Somers went on to become a senior analyst with the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), which is featured extensively in Jeremy Scahill’s book and documentary Dirty Wars, and not in a positive light.

What’s even more heartbreaking is that Somers’ says he tried to use his position to turn things around but the U.S. war machine wouldn’t allow it.

I tried to move into a position of greater power and influence to try and right some of the wrongs. I deployed again, where I put a huge emphasis on saving lives. The fact of the matter, though, is that any new lives saved do not replace those who were murdered. It is an exercise in futility. 

Then, I pursued replacing destruction with creation. For a time this provided a distraction, but it could not last. The fact is that any kind of ordinary life is an insult to those who died at my hand. How can I possibly go around like everyone else while the widows and orphans I created continue to struggle? If they could see me sitting here in suburbia, in my comfortable home working on some music project they would be outraged, and rightfully so.

Most recently, Somers started Project Shai to raise funds for a unique documentary film about the Iraq War. “An Iraq War veteran goes back to Baghdad to share tea with and interview former insurgents – especially those with which he personally exchanged gunfire – in order to better understand what motivated both parties to join the sides that they did,” says Project Shai’s donation page. But Somers’ suicide letter suggests that the film wasn’t working out.

I thought perhaps I could make some headway with this film project, maybe even directly appealing to those I had wronged and exposing a greater truth, but that is also now being taken away from me. I fear that, just as with everything else that requires the involvement of people who can not understand by virtue of never having been there, it is going to fall apart as careers get in the way.

Somers struggled with a variety of war-related illnesses and was diagnosed with PTSD and traumatic brain injury as a result of his tours in Iraq. In his letter, he blames the military’s suicide epidemic on the U.S. government’s refusal to fully address and take care of its mentally and physically wounded veterans.

Is it any wonder then that the latest figures show 22 veterans killing themselves each day? That is more veterans than children killed at Sandy Hook, every single day. Where are the huge policy initiatives? Why isn’t the president standing with those families at the state of the union? Perhaps because we were not killed by a single lunatic, but rather by his own system of dehumanization, neglect, and indifference. 

It leaves us to where all we have to look forward to is constant pain, misery, poverty, and dishonor. I assure you that, when the numbers do finally drop, it will merely be because those who were pushed the farthest are all already dead. 

And for what? Bush’s religious lunacy? Cheney’s ever growing fortune and that of his corporate friends? Is this what we destroy lives for?

Somers letter is a reminder that among the soldiers fighting US wars are good people who have been backed into a corner, forced to compromise their morals to fulfill the almost always nefarious operations necessary for American imperialism to flourish. And afterwards they are thrown away, ostracized for being weak and denied the medical care they desperately need to survive.

Meanwhile, the people that sent Somers to war and ordered the war crimes that mentally destroyed him are living in comfort, working cushy jobs at universities and having libraries built in their honor.

“It has been crazy . . . Daniel and I are private people and in the last week things have been ripped open and now everyone knows about how bad it has been,” Somers’ wife, Angeline, told The Phoenix New Times.

“I wish I could believe that if it had gotten out sooner that he would still be here.”

The Man Who Can't Be Moved

by Karim Talbi, Agence France-Presse via Occupy.com

A man stood still in Istanbul's Taksim Square: silent, staring straight ahead, he had not moved for hours.

His peaceful action, on the square that police cleared of protesters on Saturday and where the Turkish authorities have banned gatherings, was a new form of protest.

He arrived Monday evening as night was falling and took up position in the middle of the square, just a stone's throw from Gezi Park.

Five hours on, the man was still there, hands in his pockets, a bag and some bottles of water at his feet.

He was staring at a portrait of the revered founder of modern Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk that hangs from the top of the old cultural centre. Ataturk who established Turkey as a secular state.

Word spread quickly online: on Twitter, the hashtags #Duranadam and #standingman ran a steady stream of comments, together with some photos on the event.

Hundreds of people approached the square to see for themselves.

The man behind this 'happening' was choreographer Erdem Gunduz: his one-man protest was designed to get around the ban on gatherings in the square.

On Saturday, police used tear gas and water cannon to clear both the square and the park of thousands of demonstrators, depriving them of the symbolic heart of their protest.

It was a May 31 police crackdown on a peaceful protest against plans to redevelop the square that spiralled into nationwide demonstrations against Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan's Islamic-rooted government.

Now police officers surround the square, preventing any further gatherings.

For this new protest to work, Gunduz's friends positioned themselves outside the square in a bid to prevent well-wishers trying to approach him.

"We want to protect him from any provocation," said one of them, Asma, a young Turkish woman, as she tried to keep the gathering onlookers back.

"He has to be alone in the middle of the square, otherwise the police will use the pretext of a gathering to clear everyone away," she explained.

Gradually, a human chain formed an immense circle around him. Some of the youths there began arguing over whether to join him or stay well clear, as Gunduz's friends wanted.

The choreographer's plan was to stay standing still there for a month, breaking every 24 hours for three hours' rest, while a friend took his place.

It was not long however before others joined in.

A group of youths took up position beside him, following his gaze towards Ataturk -- at which point the police moved in.

The Standing Man had time to leave, surrounded by a group of friends: others were not so lucky.

Officers detained around 10 youths in a police bus, as photographers recorded the event.

After they were driven from the square and the park on Saturday, members of the protest movement talked about the need to find new ways of getting their message across.

Erdem Gunduz appears to have done just that.