To the Memory of an Anarchist Warrior. Farewell Words to Belén Navarrete

Words read during the funeral of the anarchist comrade Belén Navarrete Tapia.

Wednesday, August 21 and I get the terrible news of your physical departure, you had left this plane, several doubts were around about how everything had happened, but the only certainty is that you had left.
I feel the immense self-assumed responsibility of bringing you to the street today, it is an honor. I do so with deep love, affection, respect, complicity and anarchic conviction. You were not a “normal” or well-to-do person, therefore, your history of combat that you fought with your clear ideas must be multiplied with the same impetus that we do for other siblings.

I can speak with closeness of you because of our crossing of lives. I know that you were part of those beautiful times of student street violence that came with force since 2011; on the other hand, you were already sharpening your anarchic position, which you proudly said came to you through veganism at school; from a very young age you saw how animals were used as merchandise, raped, exploited, murdered and your life choice was to stop consuming them. That opened your mind, your political consciousness, the one that inevitably made you sail down the black path of anarchy.

From then on, you linked up with anarchist organizations, you participated in social initiatives, libraries, workshops with children; with the seriousness that characterized you, you contributed to the realization of activities, as well as participating in the always necessary propaganda, pasting it in the streets, taking out printed material and of course being in public demonstrations, going beyond the student, as in the most combative historical demonstrations; May 1, September 11, among others.

It was in those times that we crossed paths and in 2012 we began to share moments of political activity, as well as dispersion, punk was always a good shelter to have fun and laugh, have a good time, in short. Due to the vicissitudes of life, our bond was strengthened in emotional, intimate terms, while at the same time political differences with the organization we participated in were evident, therefore, we withdrew, we were left with the learning, the journey and life experiences, in addition to seeing how masks fell on nefarious characters. Learning at the end of the day. In any case, a good number of comrades and friends came out of that niche, which I see now in these moments of deep pain.

Leaving that organization did not stop us and that same day we left there we set up our own anarchist collective, it was the year 2013, and this had a clear tendency in defense of political violence and anti-prison solidarity, which were examples of positions that we had long before.
Dozens of initiatives come to mind with the collective, you constantly agitated in the street, you took out propaganda, you created bulletins, you set up solidarity activities for comrades in prison, you carried out duties and you linked yourself with the prison reality, you wrote articles, texts, reflections – with the pen that characterized you – you studied at the university, you were very “stubborn”, intelligent, Many know that and emphasized that. You combined studies and political activity, but your priority was always to propagate anarchy in the way you thought was right.

At the same time, you were actively involved in initiatives, coordination, networks, etc. The street was always the terrain to put into practice the ideas that you shouted, you had already been doing it as I described before, but then you went further, armed with courage, bravery, overcoming the barriers of fear that could exist, you became part of the street struggle, but the one that breaks monotony, that bursts into the street, In the rhythm of the citizenry without prior warning and from different universities you practiced that incendiary anti-police violence, making your way, sometimes being the only woman in the groups participating in acts of political violence.

But you wanted to go for more, the street struggle in massive demonstrations, in universities, in the towns for important dates, were part of an edge of the anarchic struggle, necessary, it had to be practiced, but also, it was necessary to raise the conflict against the world of authority, so you understood it and decidedly with the cool mind that characterized you, you undertook accurate blows through what is called the new anarchist urban guerrilla, historical armed practice used by action groups to challenge the established order; you took your revolutionary ideas to the facts, to practice, in a rudimentary way, without specialists, without leaders, or directors, in an autonomous, dignified way, with decision, courage, bravery, warrior conviction, willing to face prison if necessary, even death, in any of those scenarios you planted yourself, giving everything of yourself.

Then came the revolt, in 2019, and you were where you had to be, contributing in the street, to the street struggle in the center of the city and in the neighborhood where you lived – as in others too – night barricades and sharing with the neighbors to feed the combat in the commune, it was what motivated you, you had to live it, To experience those months and you gave it your all, when even death was lurking or mutilation could fall by the damned police hand, you continued, you protected your own.

Death whispered since we learned of the physical departure on August 11 of the warrior Luciano Pitronello, of whom you were a comrade of ideas and practices, with whom you raised public and illegal activities. We met at his funeral and I saw your face of sadness, you could not believe the tragic event that had happened, how a comrade’s life was gone in that way, we encouraged each other, I told you, now it is also our responsibility to carry his memory and actions everywhere. You smiled at me affirmatively, but now everything has changed and I’m the one who’s writing these words for you.
You left me the commitment to write your memoirs, more than once we talked about the possibilities of death, even, what would happen later, if there was an after. You were an atheist, you didn’t believe in gods or masters, but you believed in the energy of those who departed, in the essence of each person who somehow stayed with us.

I have no words to describe the deep pain I feel in my chest, how tears and bitterness emerge, I remember you with immense affection and warrior love, we shared long years as comrades in life and struggle. Memorable events have been engraved in my mind that were humble contributions to the anarchic conflict of which you were part in this territory, the subversive intimacy between comrades, days and nights of conspiracies, concretions and dreams of seeing this authoritarian world and its police bastards burn.

For me there is a lot left, you left me a lot, beautiful memories for having shared life with a warrior, long years, with intensities that very few people can know or even understand. I will gladly treasure in my mind and heart episodes that have been tattooed on my skin, episodes full of deep love, affection, fraternity, unrestricted solidarity, complicity, differences, rage and disagreements as well, but that is life, with its multiple circulations.

I will take you with me, you will walk with me on the path of anarchic conflict, you are already part of that universe of comrades who have departed, your history will travel places, you will be in pamphlets, publications and activities, in each bullet, barricade and roar your name will resonate, you will continue to be dangerous to the enemy, that will depend on several, on those who knew you in life and on those who will begin to know you from the day you die.

For my part, I have nothing but words of gratitude for having been lucky enough to meet you.

Strength to the comrades who mourn your departure in the street and in prison, to your friends and family.

Have a good trip, comrade and warrior.

NOTHING IS OVER, EVERYTHING CONTINUES!

¡BELÉN NAVARRETE PRESENTE!

August 24, 2024
Santiago, Chile

From: La Zarzamora