At midnight on June 15 of this year, we detonated an explosive device at the Armed Forces Pension Fund in Montevideo, Uruguay. It was made with readily available materials and activated with a simple mechanical system.
The Military Pension Fund is a clear example of how power robs us, exploits us, and represses us. It’s a fund subsidized with the blood of all of us to keep the military bribed and corrupt, so that, if necessary, they will fire on any revolt.
We drag chains, scraping the bottom of our salaries to feed the machinery of exploitation. Capital and repressive forces are always working hand in hand to suck the life out of us and, if we rebel: to kill, torture, and disappear us.
We choose to target the infrastructure of our miseries and anxieties. It’s not the neighbor, it’s not the homeless person, it’s not the addicts, nor the petty thief. It’s not the kids who end up at the mercy of drug traffickers. The enemy is a handful of privileged individuals, it’s the authorities, it’s the political bosses and parties who profit from managing their fiefdom.
They know where they are.
Here, the torturers are a complete institution, doing what they exist for: protecting the interests of the rich and powerful. The military, before and during the dictatorship, acted according to their purpose, not as an exception. Here, in the Congo or in Haiti, there were no mistakes, no excesses; the army’s function is to guarantee exploitation.
This year they played a very prominent role. They brought tanks into the neighborhoods. But not before parading and entertaining the colonial army around the territory, playing war games on their aircraft carriers. Do you enjoy playing war games, Mr. President?
The minister categorized this action as an isolated incident. On the contrary, this action is part of the long history of struggle against oppression. It is active remembrance against the executioners you protect and direct. The disappeared, tortured, and imprisoned rebels of yesterday and today are present in direct action, in the confrontation with capital and the State that protects it. A thousand funerals with a thousand people in silence do not compensate for abandoning the struggle.
The night of June 15th made it clear once again that a decisive attack is possible, that your panopticon doesn’t watch us all the time, that there are plenty of cracks to transform weariness and rage into rebellion. It’s a matter of getting to work.
Repression doesn’t only come in the form of military boots. Screens are chains; the offensive is distracted by them.
In the Río de la Plata, there is wood that burns without smoke. Through trial and error, with determination and caution, using whatever you have on hand. Build your band!
Sara Ardizzone, Alessandro Mercogliano, Kyriakos Ximitris, Mauricio Morales, and Santiago Maldonado remain in our living memory.
Submitted to La Zarzamora