Solidarity. The word has been spoken for the better part of a century, at least. Like many words of such ancient vintage, what it means today may vary from what it meant at the dawn of the 20th century. For we mustn’t forget, the 20th century was among the bloodiest of the history of man, not to mention women. World War I and II were modern day charnel houses. The flowing blood of millions – genocide for the racist excesses of capitalism and imperialism. What does solidarity mean today? We know what it doesn’t mean: press releases, leaflets, a formulaic statement from various leaders. It means sharing struggle and sacrifice, often on the ground, together. Solidarity means shared struggle and sacrifice, now, across the illusory walls of ivory towers and the ivied silos of separation. It means shared threats and danger. It means that or nothing.
It also means that no one movement can cure the ills that faces us. That means we must learn to accept other struggles, to embrace them; to build real functional unity against a system that is literally killing us. If we can’t build a sufficient movement, how can we build and transform a nation? This is not a rhetorical question, it’s a real one, that must be resolved and answered honestly, for complete social transformation must be our goal, or else the system will don a new mask and torment the lives and dreams of millions anew. Solidarity must be more than a word, a press release, a tweet or a promise. It must become our activity, what we do, as opposed to what we say; our reality, for only then can a new future come into being. I wrote these words last night, but, upon reflection, I want to add something, just extemporaneously.
As I wrote these words, I was thinking about a person that is familiar to all of you, at least his name is. I was thinking about Fred Hampton, the former Deputy Minister of Defense of the Illinois Chapter of the Black Panther Party, a young guy 20-21. This is the man that the Chicago Police Department and the FBI killed in his bed. Why did they do that? Not just because he was a Black Panther, or they would have done it to all of us. Their intelligence taught them, and showed them, that this young man was a powerful organizer. He was the man who really built the original Rainbow Coalition, and he understood that by working with poor white working class people in Illinois, poor Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Asian Americans; he understood that to make a revolution takes all of us. And they understood it, his enemies understood it. That’s why they killed him in his sleep. Learn the lesson of Fred Hampton to work together to build a true revolutionary movement to transform this hell that is our present. I thank you for your time. On the move. Long live, John Africa. Let us end the mass incarceral state. Free the MOVE9. From in prison nation, this is Mumia Abu-Jamal.
These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.
