More by: Bob

Most of the punk I listen to (and most of the punk generally I would say) is political in some fashion. Punk is political at its core, whether that is in its overall rejection of the norms of white middle class culture or frequent political topics in songs. I’d argue that some degree of political consciousness (generally coming from a “leftist” perspective) is an omnipresent thread in punk rock, whether it takes the form of simply singing about how messed up the world is to the more consciously political lyrics of anarcho-punk.

Given the degree of political consciousness inherent in punk—especially compared to other youth subcultures—it seems that punk and political activity should go hand in hand (note: I am defining political activity as so-called “grassroots” political action and organizing, whether that be doing Food Not Bombs, protesting the circus, or participating in other such efforts—I am not talking about electoral politics). And in some cases, it has. Punks have been heavily involved in a variety of political causes over the years, from animal rights campaigns in the 1990s to the anti-globalization movement of the early 2000s. More recently, punks across the United States participated in protests against the Iraq War. Between these visible flashes of dissent, punks have also been involved in the more long-term work of building squats, staffing anarchist infoshops, organizing collective houses, doing work with Anti-Racist Action and Food Not Bombs and a host of other solid projects that move the political consciousness of punk to new terrain. In these cases, punk moves beyond being a social club (a subculture) and becomes a counter-culture that attacks and challenges the status quo.

So while there are a lot of courageous punks that stand up for what they believe in and move beyond shouting lyrics within the confines of the punk scene (and there is a place for that and folks should be singing political songs), it has always disappointed me that so few punks take the initiative to get politically active. It’s cool to be sympathetic to anarchist politics or to call yourself an anarchist (especially given the apolitical nature of most punks these days), but it takes a lot more than just sympathy to change the world—it demands active involvement.

When I first got involved in anarchist politics, I was one of the many punks who were sympathetic but just couldn’t figure out where I fit into the struggle. I listened to political bands—Propagandhi and The Broadways were my favorite at the time—but I didn’t do much else. I knew that racism and white supremacy were bad, I had a “Stop Homophobia” patch on my backpack, and I devoured more political punk zines like Profane Existence and HeartAttaCk. I knew that punks somewhere were resisting, but I just couldn’t figure it out. I saw a flyer once for a local chapter of Food Not Bombs in the late 1990s, but by the time I got in touch with them, they were no longer active. I attended a few protests during this period, but in the 1990s most of these tended to be disempowering affairs where I was one of the youngest people and I generally felt out of place. I liked the protests because it felt like I was heading it the right direction, but as I got more and more into political punk, it seemed that the traditional tactics of marching in circles on the sidewalk outside of closed government buildings wasn’t going to do anything (consider at the time that the Aus-Rotten song “They Ignore Peaceful Protest” was one of my favorites).

While a few years of listening to punk planted the seed in my head that made me eventually get actively involved in anarchist politics, I can still remember the event that pushed me beyond being a spectator to getting involved. I used to trade zines and in 1999, there was a lot of talk in political zines about a protest being planned against the World Trade Organization (WTO) outside of its November 1999 meeting. I didn’t know much about the WTO at the time, but I learned that it was a global body that works to dismantle “barriers to trade” (such as taxes, environmental regulations, health regulations, unions, etc) in order to make it easier for nations and multinational corporations to engage in trade—in other words, it was a key component of modern capitalism. I remember being intrigued by advertising that promoted not just a “protest” as it is usually was defined, but those going to Seattle were claiming that they were going to blockade the WTO. In other words, they were going to make sure that the meeting couldn’t happen. This appealed to me as it made sense—if thousands were going to gather to protest, why not crash the WTO? That certainly would make more sense than simply asking nicely if they would please, if they have the time, maybe act a little bit nicer when they are destroying the planet.

I wanted to go to Seattle, but I didn’t have anyone to go with. Most of the punks in Grand Rapids at the time weren’t very political (this was the high time of “emo” in Grand Rapids) and I hadn’t made any connections to anarchists elsewhere in the state. So, I stayed home, being intimidated by the prospect of traveling across the country by myself. In retrospect, it was one of the most disappointing decisions I ever made. On the evening of November 30, 1999, I was watching the news on television and was surprised to see that the Seattle protests were the top story! Thousands of protests had worked together—using anarchist methods of non-hierarchal organization—to blockade the start of the WTO meeting. Essentially this meant that when the delegates to the WTO woke up to go to the meeting, they were trapped in their hotels—held back by human chains, people locking themselves together, overturned dumpsters, and all manner of other things aimed at keeping them out of the meeting. After a few hours of this, the opening session was cancelled. The police and the state had clearly lost control and pressure from the dignitaries attending the meeting eventually compelled the police to start attacking the protestors. Around the same time, an anarchist protest—using the black bloc tactic where everyone dresses head to toe in black to disguise themselves—formed and moved through downtown Seattle methodically destroying the property of various chain stores, banks, and other financial institutions. Windows were smashed, anarchist slogans were spray painted, and business was disrupted—striking a financial blow against those companies that benefited from the WTO’s agenda (see the “N30 Communiqué” for more info about the Black Bloc and the zine “N30” for more about the protests in general).

Of course, anarchist participation wasn’t limited to just the black bloc. Anarchists were intimately involved in all aspects of the WTO from pre-protest planning, to feeding and housing protestors. Anarchists helped to setup squats for protestors to sleep in while others who were experienced with Food Not Bombs helped to feed protestors several meals a day. Others acted as “street medics” to help people stay safe despite the array of weaponry (tear gas, pepper spray, and rubber bullets) that the police used to attack the protestors.

Not all anarchists are punks by any means, but what really impressed me, as a punk on the periphery of political involvement, was the fact that a large number of these anarchists were punks. In many cases, they were kids just like me—we liked the same bands, we had the same politics, and we had the same rage at the economic and political system of capitalism. Punk and DIY had taught us all that if we wanted anything—from the destruction of capitalism to a stronger punk community—we had to build it ourselves. They took the skills that percolate in the punk community—dumpster diving, squatting, traveling, herbal remedies, and more—and put them to use for something greater: attacking the system that we all despise.

Moreover, I saw it as a challenge. There were punks who were willing to stand up and fight back, and there were folks like me—stuck on the sidelines as spectators. Sure, I was sympathetic, but I wasn’t doing anything. What good were my political ideals if I couldn’t put them into action? Was I that much better than the so-called “brainwashed Americans” that stood by while the Earth was destroyed?

Shortly after the Seattle protests, I got actively involved in anarchist politics. I certainly can’t say it has been all smooth and there have been plenty of difficulties over the years (not to mention mistakes made). However, by and large, it has been the best decision I have ever made. It’s opened my eyes to completely new ways of thinking, living, and resisting. I have been lucky enough to do political work—all of it outside the scope of electoral politics—that has made the world a better place. Where it has been disappointing, it has largely been because there haven’t been enough of us or because the forces arrayed against us were too strong.

At the same time, involvement in anarchist politics has made me appreciate punk more. The punk community can be a stepping stone to greater things—not in the way that sellout bands like Against Me! use punk to get on major labels—but as a base from which we can build the capacity to attack. In a community where political consciousness isn’t frowned upon, punk can become a catalyst for building a better world. Punks can get together and start anarchist collectives, build counter-institutions, and do political work—we just need to step outside the confines of our community to do it. It doesn’t mean giving up our identity or our roots as punks, it just means giving up the complacency and apathy that is frequently rewarded in the punk community.

Sure, you might ruffle some feathers, but what’s better? Some pissed off scenesters and bar punks whining about how much they hate politics or a punk community that truly challenges the status quo?