“I do not demand any right, therefore I need not recognize any either.”
— M. Stirner
Sunday, September 11, 2011
"We Demand Nothing" by Johann Kaspar
 On the night of August 8th, 2009, hundreds of inmates at the California  Institution for Men in Chino rioted for 11 hours, causing “significant  and extensive” damage to the medium-security prison. Two hundred and  fifty prisoners were injured, with fifty-five admitted to the hospital. 
  On Mayday 2009, three blocks of San Francisco’s luxury shopping district  were wrecked by a roving mob, leaving glass strewn throughout the  sidewalk for the shopkeepers, police and journalists to gawk at the next  morning. 
  On the early morning of April 10th, 2009, nineteen individuals took over  and locked down an empty university building the size of a city-block  on 5th avenue in Manhattan, draping banners and reading communiqués off  the roof. Police and university officials responded by sending  helicopters, swat teams, and hundreds of officers to break in and arrest  them all. 
  After Oscar Grant, an unarmed black man, was killed by transit authority  officers in Oakland, California on New Years Day 2009, a march of about  250 people turned wild when a multiculturalist’s dream focus group  rampaged through downtown, causing over $200,000 in damage while  breaking shop windows, burning cars, setting trash bins on fire, and  throwing bottles at police officers. Police arrested over 100. 
  From December 6th, 2008 to Christmas, a rebellion swept Greece after the  police shooting of a 16 year old boy in Athens. Hundreds of thousands  of people took part, collectively ripping up the streets, firebombing  police stations, looting stores, occupying universities and union  buildings, all the while confronting cops on a daily basis with an  intensity and coordination worthy of an army. 
  After the “accidental” deaths of two kids who were being chased by  police in the Parisian suburb of Clichy-sous-Bois, on Oct 27th, 2005,  youths in the French banlieues burned thousands of cars, smashed  hundreds of buildings, and destroyed shops large and small every day for  three weeks in response. 8,973 cars burned all over France those  nights, and 2,888 were arrested. 
  What unites these disparate events of the last few years? Neither the  race nor class backgrounds of the participants, neither their political  contexts nor social conditions, neither their locations nor their  targets. Rather, it is a certain absence that unites them, a gap in the  center of all these conflicts: the lack of demands. Looking to  understand, manage, or explain the aforementioned events to an alienated  public, prison officials claim ignorance, journalists scavenge for a  “cause,” politicians seek something to negotiate, while liberals impose  their own ideology. The fear is that there really is nothing beneath the  actions, no complaint, no reason, no cause, just a wild release of  primal energy, as inexplicable and irrational as a sacrifice to the gods  themselves. At all costs, there must be meaning, they cry, some kind of  handle to grab onto, something, anything. What do they want? everyone  asks, and the reply is everywhere the same: Nothing. 
  From Chino to Paris, Australia to Athens, New York to San Francisco,  these are only a sample of revolts worldwide that have increasingly  given up on the desire to “demand something.” To the bourgeois press,  the lack of demands is conceived of as a symptom of irrationality, a  certain madness or pathology that plagues the disenfranchised. To the  radical left, the absence of demands is seen as political immaturity, a  naïve rage that can only exhaust itself in short bursts. But to those  who’ve shared such deeds together, to those who’ve seen their demands  become the means of their own suffocation, such a trend is a welcome  sign of things to come. 
  Perhaps it’s time we stop seeing these struggles as “lacking” something,  but rather as determinate acts of negation with their own particular  force, meaning, and history. To take seriously the content of struggles  without demands, one must see them not as isolated events, but as  moments within a history of developing antagonistic relations between  capital and the life it subsumes. What are the forms in which struggles  without demands appear to us? As riots mostly, but also as wild strikes,  endless occupations, violent rebellions, popular uprisings and general  insurrections. Instead of seeing a riot as sociologists do, namely as  any collective act of violence which seeks to directly communicate its  message without respect to legal norms, we can see them as they appear  to us: as developing forms of struggle adequate to the conditions of  exploitation at their particular time. Riots usually start with some  grievance, sometimes with a demand in sight. A riot can also start with  no demand, but end with one. Other times, riots begin with a particular  demand, but end without any care whatsoever for its accomplishment.  Sometimes demands are forced onto a collectivity of rioters by a  self-appointed “representative” and other times demands are decided on  by the collectivity themselves. Every aforementioned case has occurred  in American history, and it is the task of the insurrectionary scientist  to uncover any possible logics to the historical development of such  relations in the dialectic between demand and destruction. As the  conditions of exploitation develop, so do the struggles against them,  and with this the meaning of the struggles themselves change, expressed  not by demands but by the content of the activity itself. It is this  activity we investigate below. 
  What is a demand? Etymologically, it is a giving of one’s hand, an  order. In the context here, the demand is a contract, the guaranteed  expiration date of one’s struggle, the conditions for its conclusion.  “If x is achieved, action y will end” is what the demand says. But this  is obviously a trick, for a contract assumes two equal sides, two  abstract individuals or entities exchanging the dates of their  expiration of hostilities based on a mutual recognition of conditions.  If the vote is the political equivalent to money, then the demand is the  political equivalent to credit cards. It is faith, a contract, a  password to get something when one has nothing. It can be used by  anyone, thieves and king, rich and poor, just and unjust; its function  is the same, to lock one in deeper to the structure of capital. 
  Why do struggles with demands tend to get wilder, and struggles without  them tend to proliferate? On the one hand, the ability of the state or  capital to satisfy minimal demands is being eroded. In a hyperglobalized  economy, worker’s don’t need to be guaranteed to socially reproduce  themselves as workers where they are, for all that capital requires is  some worker, anywhere, to do the job. Wage-demands and demands to  maintain work hit up against the brick wall of the law of value.  Proletarians realize this and respond, now threatening to blow up their  factory (at New Fabris in Paris, for example), kidnapping bosses (at  Scapa in France), and striking not for improving conditions, better  wages or even keeping their jobs, but for money, just more money when  they sell the factory. No illusion anymore, they seem to be saying we  are nothing, we have nothing, we demand nothing except some paltry means  to soften our fall. The limits of demands reveal the limits of class  struggle, which can either mean the opening to its overcoming through  broadened social struggle — insurrection, social war — , or the closure  of struggle all together. We bet on the former. 
  Although the possibility to satisfy demands is becoming harder, demands  are still made, perhaps out of habit, or desperation. The demand is only  able to reproduce capital, since we have been emptied of all content  besides the content of capital: when we eat, drink, walk, kiss, fuck,  fight, or learn for ourselves, it is not for ourselves but for needs and  desires set by the laws of economy to produce value. Alien to  ourselves, we are at home in capital. We don’t even know our needs, and  yet we still hold banners crying for their fulfillment. Our only genuine  need can be to liberate need from its submission to capital. Until that  occurs, our needs will continue to be nothing more than a means for the  purpose of reproducing wealth, and demands are simply the respite, the  handle in which our needs can be grabbed, reproduced, reconfigured, and  reasserted. 
  Without a particular demand, no mediation can be made to pacify them, no  politics are possible to manage the dispute; “not” having a demand is  not a lack of anything, but a contradictory assertion of one’s power and  one’s weakness. Too weak to even try and get something from those who  dominate proletarian life, and simultaneously strong enough to try and  accomplish the direct appropriation of one’s life, time, and activity  apart from mediation. A demandless struggle, whether we call it riot or  rebellion, insurrection or civil war, reveals the totality of the enemy  one fights (capital-as-society) and the totality of those who fight it  (the potentiality of non-alienated life). In such struggles, the  proletariat “lays claims to no particular right because the wrong it  suffers is not a particular wrong but wrong in general.” (Marx). This  “general wrong” is the generalized structure of exploitation at the  heart of the capitalist system — the forced selling of one’s time and  life activity to someone else in return for a wage — which can never be  overcome by any particular change, only by a total one. 
  As particular demands transform themselves throughout American history —  from wage-demands to social demands to political demands to  environmental ones — the potential refusal of demands haunts the  bourgeoisie. This is obvious to anyone who takes the levels of class  violence employed by the exploited as rational forms of contending with  an objective structure of domination. What is not so obvious is the ways  in which this refusal manifests itself in differing forms of property  destruction, expropriation, and arson. Only history can show this. 
  The New York City Draft Riots of 1863, the bloodiest riot in American  history (120 killed at least, 2,000 injured, 50 buildings burned),  contains all the contradictions and elements that were to develop and  separate out into their own forms throughout the next century: political  demands (no draft, no war), class attacks (property destruction, arson,  looting), and race war (physical assaults, killing). Between the Draft  Riots and the Oscar Grant riots, we notice three broad trends that  emerge in relation to the content of insurrectionary activity and the  form it takes as “demand.” 
  Broadly speaking, we can separate three main historical periods of  rioting in relation to their issues or form, and two historical styles  in relation to their methods or content. The struggle between labor and  capital between 1877 and 1934, the conflicts over race between 1935 and  1968, and the student and anti-war actions of the 60’s and 70’s are the  three broad traditions that congealed into the modern protest of our  time. The women’s, gay liberation and anti-nuke actions of the 70’s and  80’s and the revival of riots over race relations in Miami and New York  City in the ‘80s continued the dual legacy of 60’s style riots in its  two different forms. It is not until the Rodney King riots in LA (and  elsewhere) of 1992 that a new phase of revolt begins, one which we are  still within today. 
  From 1877-1934, labor struggles in America took on levels of violence  unseen before or since. In that period, demands were made over wages,  working conditions, and the length of the working day, but once these  basic demands were outlined in the 1860’s, almost nothing new emerged.  From then on the level of class struggle escalated while the demands  become less and less important. Rail strikes immediately turned into  riots, spreading nationally along the railway, leaving thousand of train  cars destroyed, dead bodies on both sides, and thousands injured. Coal  miners blew up their own mines, and factory workers killed Pinkertons  outside their gates. 
  Property destruction was widespread, but its focus and meaning were  different then they are today. First of all, the property attacked by  workers’ was their own tools and products of labor, that is, the means  of production they were using to create new value for their employer. By  destroying their own instruments of production — rail lines, coal  mines, factory machines — they were destroying the unity of the  capitalist production process, not merely its appearance as commodity in  the realm of circulation and consumption. Second, although the  machines, rails, train cars, trolleys, mines, and factories that  different workers destroyed were under the legal ownership of the  capitalist who employed them, they were seen by the workers as their own  property. This is because the machines were the product and means of  their labor, their physical and mental exertion. The attack on this  property was not merely an attack against capitalists, but against that  which makes them proletarians: work, tools, value. The self-abolition of  the proletariat was not expressed formally in any one of their demands,  but posed materially in the actions and targets themselves. 
  From Harlem 1935 to Washington D.C. 1968, class struggles took the form  of appearance of “race relations” and “ghetto riots.” Qualitatively  different than the Jim Crow anti-black, and anti-immigrant riots,[1]  these struggles were dominated by proletarian and subproletarian black  assaults on the foundations of white, bourgeois society: police, stores,  banks, buildings, cars. Looting and arson were the principle methods  used to critique such elements. The looting that occurred in Harlem ’35,  ’43, and then in Watts, Newark and Detroit of the mid-60’s, was not the  looting of people’s houses, such as the looting of capitalist houses  during the Draft riots of 1863, but rather it was the looting of shops  and stores, the places at which the products people make are sold back  to them for prices they can’t afford. In other words, the looting was  social, not personal. It was the critique of a society which depends on  people accumulating shit they don’t need and desiring shit they make but  can’t have. 
  Arson is nothing new in the history of American class violence (English  laborers burned machinery threatening their jobs in the 18th century),  but it thoroughly shocked the bourgeoisie when blacks started burning  down their own neighborhoods. Why? What was so new about the fire this  time? Perhaps it was the change in the nature of this property  destruction, a change markedly different than that of the previous era  of riots. Yes, people were burning and destroying all the property  around them, but it wasn’t their property. It was owned by someone  outside the ghetto. As opposed to the previous rail, coal, streetcar,  and factory workers’ destruction of what they deemed their own property  (although technically it was owned by the capitalist), these folks knew  it wasn’t their property, and were happy to get rid of it. Even if it  means sabotaging their own means of existence, such as access to food,  shelter, and transportation. For the practical rejection of capital  entails the abolition of one’s previous mode of life, and this  self-negation always appears as suicidal. But it is only suicidal from  the standpoint of capital, not from the perspective of human beings  actively creating their lives for the first time. 
  Between June 1963 and May 1968, there were 239 separate urban riots  involving at least 200,000 participants, which led to 8,000 injuries and  190 deaths. On April 4th 1968 alone, after MLK Jr’s death, 125 cities  across 28 states rioted, leading to 47 deaths. In Washington D.C., riots  broke out 10 blocks from the White House. In the same period, at least  50,000 people were arrested. The riots in Watts, Newark, and Detroit  alone accounted for 1/6th of all the arrests. Although 190 deaths is  still a lot, it is nothing in comparison to the amount of deaths that  occurred regularly during the more formal battles between capital and  labor. The killings were mostly committed by the police and military,  not rioters. In Watts, 28 out of 34 killed were black; Newark, 24 out of  26 were black; Detroit, 36 out of 43 killed were black. 
  As ghetto-riots proliferated across urban America, another form of  protest was emerging, the student, youth, anti-war, left radical  protest. The sites of struggle shift to universities, draft centers, and  political conventions. During these struggles, demands rose and fell  constantly, from ending the draft to “free love”, from peace to “bring  the war home.” What unites the separate, contradictory, even superficial  demands are the actions themselves of those who were demanding. These  actions included mostly sit-ins and occupations, some property  destruction and arson, lots of police confrontation, and little to no  physical assaults on civilians. In Berkeley ’64, during the “free speech  movement”, 1000 people occupied Sproul Hall for 32 hours, ending in the  peaceful arrest of 773. In 1966, with the draft enacted, campuses  revolted en masse. Students occupied the University of Chicago  administration for 4 days, and riots occurred at ROTC centers at  University of Wisconsin, CCNY, and Oberlin. 
  In Oct of 1967, a national month of protest was called, in which some  occupations, some symbolic acts, and some confrontations arose. On Oct  18th, about 1000 people fought police in Wisconsin with 70 students  injured, and several buildings damaged. On Oct 19th, Brooklyn College’s  Boylan Hall was occupied, and in Chicago, 18 were arrested breaking into  a draft induction center. On Oct 20th, 10,000 Berkeley and Oakland  activists blocked the streets around a draft induction center, slashing  tires, dropping nails, writing graffiti, and fighting with about 1000  police for hours. On Oct 21st and 22nd, a mass, ritualized, “nonviolent”  anti-war rally took place in DC with 150,000 people. Some broke the  rules and fought police, ending with 681 protestors arrested, and 13  marshals, 10 soldiers, and 24 demonstrators wounded. 
  After six days of an occupation at Columbia University, students fought  police on April 29th, 1968, ending with 132 students, 4 faculty and 12  police injuries. That year at the DNC in Chicago, Yippies tried to  inaugurate a riot, and between Aug 25th and Aug 30th, they did. 192  police injuries, 81 police vehicles damaged, 24 windshields smashed, 17  cars dented, and numerous shop windows broken as well. In March and  April of 1969, black students at SUNY Buffalo, Harvard, and Cornell  occupied central buildings. In May, students were killed in police  confrontations in Berkeley and Greensboro. In October, the Weathermen  launched their “Days of Rage”, in which 300 of them destroyed property  and fought police together. Six weathermen were shot, most were beaten,  250 arrested. In Santa Barbara, on Feb 25th, 1970, UCSB students burned a  Bank of America branch to the ground, and on April 18th, 1970, a  student there was slain by a stray bullet from police. But it wasn’t  until National Guardsmen killed 4 students on May 4th, 1970 at Kent  State University that the country erupted in rage against casualties at  protests. 
  The pattern of student and anti-war demonstrations follows the trends of  its time: limited attacks on property, police escalation, sit-ins and  occupations. As students and youth became more and more indiscriminate  with their site of struggles, as they become more violent in their  tactics and less accommodating in their resolve, their grievances  progressed from a rejection of war and imperialism to a critique of  everyday life and capitalism. What started with a strategy of demands  and escalation ended with a rejection of anything less than revolution. 
  The three main contentions of violent struggles — labor, race, and war —  all exhibited some minimal demands. In the first case, higher wages,  better working conditions, and a shorter working day. In the second,  equal political rights, treatment, and benefits in all economic and  social spheres. And in the third case, an end to the War in Vietnam and a  stopping of the Draft. Within such a demand schema, it’s easy to reduce  all antagonistic phenomena of those periods to a certain structure:  exploited group X demands Y from institution Z. For example, one can see  the Rail strike of 1877, the Harlem riot of 1935, and the university  rebellions of May 1970 as equal forms of collective bargaining, which  despite their illegal means, are geared towards legal ends. 
  What falls out in such an equation is the very content of the actions  themselves, actions which go against their very ends, in turn  overflowing their political forms and becoming social. What occurs in  these riots, how do they begin, and end? 
  The rail strike of 1877 is one of the most violent in American history.  After wages were cut on July 1st, rail workers went on strike in  Baltimore, Ohio, and West Virginia. On July 20, the army attacked the  strikers, ending with 10 killed. The strike spread to New York, Newark,  and Pittsburgh. The Philadelphia army attacked the Pittsburgh strikers,  and the strikers attacked back, leaving 24 dead. In the end, 5 million  dollars of Pennsylvania Railroad property was destroyed, including 104  locomotives, and 2152 railroad cars. 3000 federal troops and thousands  more militia came to restore peace. Riots broke out in Altoona, Reading,  Harrisburg, Scranton, Philadelphia, before moving to Chicago, St.  Louis, San Francisco, and Washington D.C. Not organized by any union,  the strike spread along the rail lines themselves, with workers in  various occupations joining in where they could. All that over a wage  increase? 
  The Harlem riot of 1935 prefigures the race riots of the 60’s. A black  boy was caught shoplifting by white cops, and a minor confrontation  occurred. Rumors spread that the police killed him (they didn’t), and  Harlemites sought vengeance. In two days of rioting, over 200 white  owned stores were demolished, causing 2 million dollars in property  damage. This pattern was to repeat itself over and over and over again  in the next 70 years. Can one really label the riots that happen in  response part of a demand for equal rights? 
  In May 1970, the wave of student anti-war actions in the 60’s culminated  after the shooting of 4 students at a Kent State University protest. In  response, 1350 universities exploded in riots, including 4,350,000  participants. 400 schools shut down. Police opened fire at Jackson State  College on May 14th — killing 2 black students — and again in Lawrence,  Kansas on July, killing 2 youths, sparking a wave of arson and property  destruction in response. All that just to stop a war thousands of miles  away? 
  We think not. Rather, such demands are merely screens to interface  between worlds of rage and worlds of law, a force of the subjective  discontent of life under capital against a force of the objective  necessity of capital subsuming life. Incommensurable in their content,  they are equalized and understood from the perspective of one side, that  of law, as attempts to collectively express a will towards a particular  change in law. They are not understood from the side of the practices  themselves, perhaps not even by those committing them. As goals, demands  do not determine the type of struggles, actions, or events that we  describe here. For every demand mentioned above can also be sought after  by legal means. What makes these activities unique is the continually  developing contradiction between their form and content, the form as the  demand to someone for something, and the content as rejecting anyone’s  attempt to accommodate anything. 
  The pace in which institutions of state and capital accommodate the  demands of these struggles accelerates rapidly. When a struggle’s demand  is accommodated, the struggle quickly shifts from an external conflict  between two opposed players to an internal conflict managed by one  institution. The first major accommodation of demands took sixty years  of riots (1877-1934), when in the 1930’s government and capitalists  acquiesced to the assaults of proletarian violence by bettering work  conditions all around. 
  The second major accommodation took thirty years of riots (1935-1968),  when, after multiple cities were ravaged by minor insurrections of  mostly black proletarians, government in the late 60’s made new  legislation to enforce equality in schools, employment and public  institutions. “Race riots”[2]  of course existed before the Harlem uprising of 1935 (and continued  after the massive riots following MLK Jr.’s assassination in April ’68),  but its modern character took form then, insofar as the riots were  initiated by black folks as a response to a particular act of police  violence (usually an arrest, beating, murder, or rumor of murder),  instead of initiated by white folks as an attack on black and immigrant  communities who then defend themselves (the Atlanta Race Riot of 1906,  for instance). Hence, targets in the modern race riot are property,  police, and stores, and acts of physical assault between white and black  civilians and/or immigrants, such as occurred in the Jim Crow era  (1890-1914), are much less common, although still present. 
  Finally, the third major accommodation of demands took about ten years  of riots (1964-1972), after students, youth, and left radicals of all  stripes occupied, smashed, burned, and fought cops at thousands of  Universities across the country. Shortly after the national riots  following the Kent State massacre on May 4th 1970, the government began  to incorporate anti-war dissidents into their debates, ultimately  conceding to their demands by abolishing the draft in 1973, and pulling  out of Vietnam completely by 1975. 
  Since the anti-war protests of the 60’s, the women’s liberation, gay  liberation, Native American, anti-nuke, and anti-apartheid movements  have gone through similar rapidly accelerating phases of riot — protest —  accommodation — reorganization. Some of these struggles never end, but  once their particular demands are incorporated into a general  institutional structure in some form or another, the movement changes  nature from one of opposition to one of competition. The pace has  accelerated so much recently that the dialectic between destruction,  demand, accommodation and neutralization occurs within less and less  time from after the first riot. With the American wing of the  anti-globalization movement kicking off in Seattle ’99, it took less  than a decade, as the IMF, World Bank and WTO all but collapsed or had  to completely reorganize their language and agenda to integrate the  force of global assaults and physical critiques they received. With the  immigrant protests of May ’06, it took less than a year, as politicians  quickly reorganized their agenda to pass new laws (or rather, to make  laws that never pass). With the Oakland riots of January ’09, it took a  week. 
  When one focuses on the presence or absence of demands as the criteria  for discerning revolutionary from reformist struggle, one ignores the  relations and meanings internal to the activities of the struggles  themselves. Demands are getting accommodated quicker, but revolution is  in no way closer now than ever before. 
  The two grand styles of American counter-violence are the generalized  riot and the specialized tactic. The core elements of the former are  looting, arson, property damage and physical assault; its participants  are proletarians and subproletarians. The elements of the latter are  picket lines, marches, sit-ins and traffic blockades; its participants  are usually a minority group trained in such measures. 
  Prior to the 1930’s, these two forms of activity were indistinguishable  in the main conflict of the era, that between capital and labor, in  which strikes were also riots, marches were battles, and sit-ins and  blockades were nothing but the defense and creation of barricades. After  sixty years of intense class war (1877-1934), in which each strike left  bodies on both sides, changes in both tactics and strategy were  adopted, changes that reflected shifts in the relation between capital  and proletariat, and between the state and its subjects. 
  In 1934, the United States was on the brink of anarchy. Wild, bloody  strikes swept through Minneapolis, Toledo, and San Francisco. On May  21st and 22nd, Minneapolis truckers on strike stopped all deliveries,  and in response, police and a newly formed “citizens alliance” attacked  them. Truckers beat police and the “alliance”, wounding 67. On May 23rd  and 24th, six thousand auto workers on strike in Toledo fought police,  the company security and the National Guard, eventually forcing them all  to retreat, but not before two strikers were killed. On May 9th,  longshoremen all along the West Coast went on a massive strike, but it  wasn’t until July 3rd in San Francisco that violent confrontations  between police and proletarians emerged. The generalized strike peaked  when police killed two on “Bloody Thursday,” wounding 115 as well. 
  With the depression raging, workers turning to more and more desperate methods of destruction[3],  and police, Pinkertons, and national guardsmen racking up casualties  daily, the state as well as many larger capitalists began to concede,  allowing the formation of unions in certain industries, guaranteeing  lesser hours and better conditions, and even a minimum wage. At the same  time, workers methods began to move away from generalized rampage and  towards the Sit-Down, the model act of symbolic revolt whose creation  shifted American conflict from riot to ritual. In 1936, there were 48  factory sit-downs involving 87,817 workers, 477 in 1937 involving  398,117 workers, and 52 in 1938 involving 28,749 workers. These  sit-downs were intentionally non-provocative, yet they would defend  themselves if attacked or prevented. This in fact occurred in Flint,  Michigan, January 1937, when guards stopped union men from delivering  food to their striking comrades inside the GM factory. In response,  workers locked the guards in a washroom, police fired tear gas at the  workers, and workers sent the tear gas back. After 14 injuries, the  officers withdrew in what’s known joyfully as the “Battle of Running  Bulls.” 
  In the 30’s, as capitalists and government accommodated labor’s minimal  demands, proletarian revolt shifted to specialized tactics, and  capitalism began its turn towards complete, regulated commodity  production of all goods and activities constituting daily life for not  only the bourgeoisie, but the working-class as well. In the 30’s, the  separation of demand from destruction was enacted for the first time. As  specialization became the norm in the workplace, so it was in the  struggle as well. This separation set the stage for the forms of  ritualized rebellion that carried the civil rights movement from  1955-1965 with the lunch counter sit-ins, as well as the student  anti-war actions of 1964-1972 with their sit-ins, occupations and  traffic blockades. The refinement of such tactics developed rapidly in  the ecological struggles of the 70’s and 80’s over nuclear power, old  growth forests, water, pollution, and coal. Three main groups  accomplished this: the Clamshell Alliance of New England, the Abalone  Alliance of the West Coast, and the Livermore Action Group. 
  In August 1976, the Clamshell Alliance occupied Seabrook nuclear  construction site, twice. The first ending in 18 arrests, the second  with 180. After almost a year of trainings and preparation, in April  1977, the Clamshell Alliance went back with 2400 people, ending with  1400 being arrested. No violence was committed. Inspired by the  Clamshell Alliance, the Abalone Alliance on the West Coast tried to  occupy the Diablo plant in August of ’77. It didn’t work, but four years  later in 1981 they returned, occupying the site for two weeks, blocking  the plant, ending with 1900 arrests. On Mother Day 1982, the Livermore  Action Group shut down the production of nuclear weapons at the Lawrence  Livermore National Laboratory outside San Francisco when women armed  with teddy bears sat down in front of traffic, as four women chained  themselves to the gate. In March 1983, the group hiked through backwoods  to occupy Vanderberg Air Force Base before 777 of them were arrested. 
  These three groups, along with the countless other environmental groups  to emerge in the 80’s, formalized the already specialized tactics of the  30’s labor sit-downs, 50’s and 60’s civil rights sit-ins, and 70’s  student occupations into a science, with its own jargon, methods,  principles, and values. Rebaptizing riots as “nonviolent direct action”,  mobs with grievances to avenge now became “protestors” with “rights” to  “express.” The peaceful arrest was the ultimate end point, the  lock-down became central, and pacifism dominated the ethical norm. Both  government and protestors finally had a common language to speak, a  shared framework with rules and boundaries to act within. Earth and  Animal Liberation movements of the 90’s and 00’s took the same structure  — formalized actions — yet inverted the elements: from public to  clandestine, lock-down to escape, pacifism to arson. 
  The Rodney King riots of 1992 in Los Angeles (and San Diego, San  Francisco, Oakland, Sacramento, San Bernardino, Las Vegas, Atlanta,  Chicago, Denver, Detroit, Miami, New York City, Philadelphia, Phoenix,  St. Louis, Washington DC, and Toronto) explodes this logic of  separation. Without specialization, these contagious events seemed to  herald the return of the “race riot”, physical assault, generalized  looting, arson and mass property destruction. Yet none of these forms  really ended in the 60’s, they just became more and more separated from  general social upheaval, pushed into “special interest” boxes. There  were dozens of so-called race riots from 1970-1992. On the one hand, the  pre-civil rights style race wars were resurrected by KKK/neo-nazi/white  racist types against black and brown folks, especially between 1976 and  1979 in the South: Boston Bussing attacks between 1974-1976, KKK  clashes in Columbus, Ohio and Mobile, Alabama in ’77, Neo-Nazi battles  in San Jose, CA and St. Louis, Missouri in October 1977 and March 1978  respectively, and the infamous Greensboro massacre of Nov 3rd, 1970 when  the Klan and Neo-Nazi party killed 4 protestors in the Communist  Workers Party organized march. On the other hand, the ghetto riot of the  60’s resurfaced numerous times: Elizabeth, New Jersey 1975, Miami 1980,  ’82, ’84 and ’89, Howard’s Beach, Queens 1986, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn  1989, Washington DC 1991, Brooklyn 1991, Manhattan 1992. 
  All have a similar story: a policeman or white racist shoots someone —  Black, Cuban, Puerto Rican, Dominican, Korean, Vietnamese — and the  ethnic or racial community to which that person belong responds through  immediate arson, property destruction, and looting. After four policemen  charged with shooting an unarmed black man were acquitted by an all  white Tampa jury, Miami was covered in blood and smoke for three days  from May 17th to 19th, 1980. Three white folks were beaten to death,  while police and National Guardsmen killed eleven black folks. 3600  National Guard were called in to help, and 1000 blacks were arrested. In  July of 1992, a policeman shot an unarmed Dominican man in New York  City, and 1000 people responded in force by overturning cars, smashing  windows, littering the streets, burning three building and blocking  traffic on the GW bridge. The Howards Beach, Bensonhurst and Brooklyn  riots start a little differently, with white youth intentionally killing  black youth, and a Hasidic Jew unintentionally running over a West  Indian man. In all cases, the race war form of riot reemerged, with  direct assaults between whites and blacks, Hasids and West Indians,  Koreans and African-Americans. 
  And what about the blackout riots of ’77 in NYC, the Detroit devils  nights, the Tompkins Square Park Riots of ’88, the Chicago Bulls riots,  not to mention all the sports riots in Michigan, Milwaukee, and  Pittsburgh? All of this goes to show that the form of generalized  rioting characteristic of “race riots” never disappeared, but constantly  reasserted itself from the 70’s-90’s, albeit in much more isolated,  fragmented, and partial ways. It was not until Los Angeles of ’92 that  generalized rioting become cohesive again within a national and social  atmosphere of refusal, which allowed for the rebellion to transcend the  previous limits of conflict, that is, the limit of demands. 
  Between 1877 and 1934, proletarians (mostly white and immigrant) sought  to attack capital directly (their boss, factory, means of production)  but were constantly mediated and blocked by different state sanctioned  agencies of legitimate violence (police, Pinkertons, national guard,  army). In other words, workers wanting to destroy capitalists fought  police in their place. Between 1934 and 1968, a new situation arises.  Subproletarians and proletarians (mostly black), sought to attack the  state directly (as police) but were constantly mediated by capital (as  property). In other words, blacks wanting to fight police accomplished  it by means of property destruction instead of direct confrontation  (with exceptions). In the first case, the state mediates the  antagonistic relation between capital and labor; in the second case,  capital mediates the antagonistic relation between the state and labor.  The student and anti-war actions signify the attempt to attack the state  and capital together, but mediating it through the structure which  prepares the transition to selling oneself as labor: the University. In  other words, the crucible of future labor becomes a site of struggle,  which is then further policed. 
  Now, from 1970-1992, the nonviolent direct action trend solidifies and  isolated race riots continue to occur. Both are mediated by their own  limits: the first is that their own bodies become the means by which  they engage in conflict, and in the second is that the conflict only  emerges in relation to an act of racist violence from police or others.  From 1992 to the present, property destruction reemerges, but  differently than before. On the one hand as specialized (political  riots) and on the other as generalized (‘race riots’). But both of these  tend to blur during the dotcom and housing bubble eras of the 90’s and  ’00s. In Miami, LA, Seattle, Cincinnati, Michigan and Oakland, the  target is once again capital, but now the attempt to negate it is  mediated by capital itself in one of its forms, property. To destroy  capital as such, capital as property is attacked (as opposed to capital  as commodities, money, or labor). The state mediates this when it can  (defending summits, sending in the National Guard), but it also retreats  a bit, leaving capital to take care of itself. That is, the bait of  property destruction lures individuals into isolated illegal activity  which capital can recover from while the state can make examples out of  those it captures. 
  As demands progressed from specific issues to general refusal, rioting  regressed from a geneneralized activity to a specialized practice. Since  the civil war, the nature of demands has transformed from localized to  total within the content of particular struggles themselves. Revolts  over work — from the massive rail strike of 1877, through the Pullman  and Homestead riots of the 1880’s and 90s, to the Battle of Blair  Mountain in the 1920s — revolts over racial exploitation — from the  Harlem riots of 1935 to the MLK Jr. riots of 1968 — and revolts over war  — from the Free Speech movement of 64 through the Days of Rage in 69 —  all end on the brink of civil war. Once that possibility is breached,  demands — whether real or not — are brought in to adjudicate,  accommodate and pacify the populace. It is no coincidence that an  American situationist group from Berkeley in 1972 called “For Ourselves”  could write a theoretical statement with the subtitle, “On the  Practical Necessity of Demanding Everything.” That framework was finally  shattered in the Los Angeles rebellion of ’92 when it was realized that  there is no longer anyone to “demand everything” from. As “For  Ourselves” was theorizing the content of the last decade of revolts as  the necessity of demanding everything without regard to any specific  practice, the Clamshell alliance was theorizing the content of the last  decades of civil disobedience as the necessity of demanding something by  means of very particular “nonviolent direct action” techniques. 
  Besides modern race-class riots, the anti-globalization movement has  inherited this dual legacy, leading to the contradictory movement of  those who demand everything (as they continue the legacy of the  Sit-downs of the 30’s) working side-by-side with those who demand  nothing (as they continue the legacy of class violence in the early 20th  century and the ghetto riots of the 60’s). The difference is that such  generalized violence is now also done by specialists, black block  anarchists, and the specialized tactics of non-violent direct action  have become more and more accepted as the general means for engaging in  social conflict. The generalization of demands and the specialization of  practice leads us to the impasse of the present, which cannot be  overcome without breaking with the forms and content of revolt as we  inherit them, with and without demands. 
  Struggles with insurrectionary content in the United States have  progressed from demanding something (1880s-1940s), through demanding  everything (1960’s-1970’s) to demanding nothing (1992-present). Each new  phase is marked by the lasting contradictions of the previous one,  insofar as no period is completely “new,” rather it only makes separate  and dominant a certain tendency hitherto indistinct in the previous mode  of struggle. When uprisings in Philadelphia ’64, Rochester ’64, Watts  ’65, Newark ’67, Detroit ’67, Buffalo ’67, everywhere ’68, Berkeley ’69,  Chicago ’69 and hundreds of others cities demand a change in the  totality of existing conditions, they are only theorizing the  implications of the generalized strikes and riots of proletarians in the  last decades of the 19th century and the first decades of the 20th.  When rioters in LA ’92, St. Petersburg ’96, Seattle ’99, Cincinnati ’01,  Toledo ’03, Benton Harbor ’05, New Orleans ’05, St. Paul ’08 or Oakland  ’09 during the last two decades act with the intensity and coordination  of 60s rioters, but without the general national atmosphere of  rebellion, and without wanting anything at all from their targets and  enemies, then they are only conceptualizing in deed the concrete failure  of every institutional attempt to “change everything.” Against abstract  demand, even the demand to end all demands, they are acting on the  basis of a concrete rejection of demands as such. This practical shift  relocates the power to make history from those who reconcile conflicts  to those who make them irreconcilable. The present comprehension of  history is enacted in the forms through which struggles take place  today, and those forms are dominated by a demandless consistency of  social acts of violence against capital in all its manifestations. 
  What are the ethics of demandless struggles? They are not based on a  desired object or end, they can’t be judged based on calculation or  utilitarian value. Rather, their strength comes from their basis in the  act itself, the deed irrespective of calculation, interest, or gain; it  is the privileging of the activity over the product. The danger with  this anti-moralist ethic of pure action is that it can easily cross  boundaries of disciplined violence, such as in the Draft Riot of 1863  when class revolt turned to race war. So how can one overcome this  danger? By maintaining principles of friendship and trust, to ground the  anarchy of pure action in the commune of shared needs. But what grounds  the commune? Action, and its legacy. The history of acts is the only  “product” created — a narrative of a whole, directed, consistent life. 
  A struggle without demands is a strike at the level of language. By  refusing the accepted form of presenting disagreements, the meaning and  justification of the action becomes internal to its presentation. But  not as immediately “symbolic” or “gestural”, rather it is mediated by  all those things which make up alienated life: commodities, property,  police, money, labor. The critique of existing society becomes not a  verbal cry for a better world but a mute rejection of the entirety of  this one, only recognized by the cohesive movement and relation of acts  of practical negation of all those dominant mediations making up one’s  nonlife. After a battle in the social war subsides, only the ruins left  behind can tell its story. 
  The refusal to demand allows for the abstraction of capital to reveal  itself, no longer covered up in the mysticism of word-games, i.e., we  are fighting for right x because of need y based on condition z. That  structure will never challenge the basis of the needs and conditions  themselves. The undemanding struggle is not for anything, it is a  position, a stance, a risk to become a subject of one’s own activity;  until then, we are nothing but objects of capital, things moved around  to work, vote, and reproduce. Capital is personified in our actions  (work, consume, repeat), and the state is personified in our words  (rights, justice, freedom). To refuse both personifications means to  destroy the form of Man which capital and state need for their reality,  that form is the proletariat and the citizen, the worker and the  activist, the entrepreneur and the poet. The complete negation of Man as  he exists under any and every category granted by class society is the  ultimate goal of communism, and this cannot be demanded. It can only be  accomplished. 
  The demand is a tool for self-organization. It unifies separated  individuals against a common enemy toward a common good. It is the  unification of the exploited based upon a common enunciation, “We want  X”. The demand becomes a self-mediation, a self-constitution of the  undifferentiated masses into a singular one, a subject who demands.  Demands, in others words, are processes of subjectification. Individuals  act as class, and in that class action they become subjects and no  longer merely objects of capital. 
  The problem is that the class of those exploited by a common structure  of domination is unified on the very basis of that domination, on the  very basis of the capitalist relation. All the diverse appearances of  one’s fragmented life cohere around a unified essence — the identity of  the exploited as worker, as student, as oppressed. This identity is  crafted in struggle, and becomes the basis for a community. The  community can outlast the struggle for a particular demand, or not. The  difference and diversity of those living under capital is not the issue,  rather it’s the essence upon which they’re united. If the struggle and  the demand first unify people who aren’t unified, then the next step is  to destroy the basis of that unity in a way that allows for a new unity  unpoisoned by the centrality of the capital-relation. In other words,  one destroys what the demand unifies, our abstract identity, the unity  of a class, the unity of an identity. “The process of revolution is that  of the abolition of what is self-organisable.” (Theorie Communiste).  The conditions for a real unification will arise through the overcoming  of this negative form of community, a form born through the demand  struggle, and carried beyond it by the demandless one. 
  Communism or anarchy is the abolition of relations of capital in life  through the rupture with the rupture that reveals them — this second  rupture is determinate, a new configuration of which we can only speak  in the language of potentiality: activity without work, life without  value, people without things, time without measure, social without  society. “From struggles over immediate demands to revolution, there can  only be a rupture, a qualitative leap. But this rupture isn’t a  miracle.” (TC) It is a demand upon us. 
 [1]^  With the exception of the Detroit riot of June 20-22, 1943, the last of  the classic Jim Crow riots, which was predominantly whites attacking  blacks (killing 25) and blacks defending themselves (killing 9) 
  [2]^  We put “race riot” in quotes because every race riot is a class riot,  and we only label them “race riots” to distinguish them from the earlier  class riots of the century. For a practical analysis of a supposed  “race riot” where this is the case, see the article “LA ‘92: The Context  of a Proletarian Uprising” in the first issue of the journal Aufheben. 
  [3]^  For example, on December 1st 1906, 250 masked men rode into Princeton,  Kentucky, occupied the town for two hours and dynamited two factories  operated by Tobacco Trust, destroying 400,000 pounds of tobacco. 
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