OBSERVATION COUNTER OBSERVATION
… script [originally] in Dutch (observatie contra observatie): Pieter Paul Pothoven in collaboration with activists of the Revolutionary Anti-Racist Action – RARA translation: Vincent W.J. van Gerven-Oei …
“Central to observatie contra observatie is a spoken monologue in Dutch: a dramatized account of events surrounding the first RARA attack, which took place on September 17, 1985, on a branch of the Makro in the town of Duivendrecht. This action, and the three others in the period from 1985 and 1987, forced the SHV, Makro’s parent company, to pull out of South Africa. Pothoven wrote the script for the character—who speaks from the perspective of several of the activists involved—and based it on interviews and historical documents. The monologue is broadcast using a radio transmitter built by someone who was involved in RARA. The script is made available on take-away posters that also feature a photo of the wood-burning stove that RARA used not only for heating, but also for burning evidence.”
Colonial history is not the past.
Every day I see it again.
That sense of white superiority.
Thinking that white is better than Black.
The ongoing justification of the apartheid regime in South Africa.
A blood-red line runs from then to now.
But apartheid is more than just a colonial remnant.
It is a system that’s alive and kicking, offering the white minority – the law in hand – every possibility to exploit the Black majority.
They’re making a fucking lot of money with it.
That’s why I find it dangerous to condemn apartheid solely on moral grounds, such as: apartheid is racism. Racism is bad. So stop doing it.
Do you really think that Black and white can obtain equal rights within a capitalist society?
I don’t consider apartheid to be some kind of civilization that’s different from the society in which we live here. Nor is it a stain that you can just wipe off. I see apartheid as the raw, uncut version of the West. Raw, but transparent at the same time. Hold it in front of your eyes, like a lens. When you look through it, you’ll see the core of that socalled Western civilization: an inhumane system.
And that system, which has huge economic interests in oppression and exploitation and sexism and racism and pollution, causing indescribable suffering around the world, that system I want to change.
Not simply by modifying it a little bit here and there.
And yes, it makes sense to start at biking distance.
I was asked to do something for the armed branch of the ANC in southern Africa.
I said no.
Don’t feel like becoming a tool over there.
I have to define my aims and strategies based on my responsibility here, in this country with historical ties to South Africa.
I don’t need permission for that.
From no one.
There is an international boycott of South Africa, but which company is actually forced to stop doing business?
What does the state do? Nothing. “We have to keep trade channels open to retain political leverage behind the scenes.” What do companies do? They shrug their shoulders and continue to fill their pockets. No matter the social consequences.
And what is the answer of the anti-apartheid committees? Boycotts. Name and shame campaigns. Information evenings.
Would you like a sticker?
It’s important. Really. I’m taking part in it, too. But all those actions amount to nothing more than polite requests.
Do you have any idea what’s happening in the townships
I’m sorry, but the time of polite requests has long passed.
We’re going to attack the Steenkolen Handels-Vereeniging. The S-H-V. A truly Dutch company owned by the Fentener van Vlissingen family, with I don’t know how many subsidiaries here and in South Africa.
The ties between SHV and South Africa have been made public.
They’re already under scrutiny.
How are we going to target SHV?
The Makro. It’s an easy pick, actually. Wholesalers are publicly accessible. Located in remote areas. Everyone is engaged in actions against Shell, but Shell has hundreds of gas stations. Say you attack one or two, what’s the actual result? How many Makro stores are there? About eight or ten? And those warehouses are huge. So yeah, every time you manage to hit one of them, they lose a substantial part of their revenue.
A travel agency covered in paint. A trashed wine store. I can still recall the sea of red and white wine on the floor.
The burned-down mansion of oil trader Deuss. It is easy to see the continuity from inside the activist scene. But from the outside it’s more difficult to discern a line in the mishmash of targets.
Anti-apartheid Action. Amsterdammers against Racism.
Pyromaniacs against Apartheid. It’s all too incidental.
Appearing from nothing then disappearing.
That’s no way to build up pressure. That’s why we choose for a campaign.
One name and one target. Whether it’s one, two, or three Makro warehouses. Or all of them.
We will continue until SHV leaves South Africa.
So, the Makro.
Who wants to join the group that will write the claim letter?
Who’s going to Waterlooplein to get a typewriter?
Text ready for consumption?
Fingerprints wiped from the keys?
Dump it in the canal.
Meanwhile you’re already checking out the place. Observation.
During the day at first. Outside. What’s happening around the building?
And then you go inside.
Who is getting the Makro loyalty cards?
You shave your legs.
Put on a suit.
Put on a wig.
Hi! I’m looking for this and that.
Really interested, you know. Like, very lovely and cute.
What do the doors look like?
What do the windows look like?
Is there an alarm?
You see the paint aisle. Cans with solvents: flammable.
How many steps from the paint isle to that side door over there?
You want to burn it down.
How’re you gonna do that?
Where’re you gonna try?
We’re biking on a dike next to the Ijsselmeer. In broad daylight.
There are two people on top of the dike. Is someone coming?
Down near the water you can do whatever you want.
Perfect place to rehearse a few things.
What’s happening at night?
Are there guards?
Do they make their rounds according to the same daily schedule?
No. Weekly? No.
For weeks you’re lying in the bushes with a walkie-talkie
Do you see something. Over.
No. You? Over.
Six nights a week. Only to discover that it there is no pattern at all.
How to get the stuff there?
How to get the stuff from the drop-off point to the right location on the site?
How long does that take you? How many people do you need?
When are you going to practice on site?
How do you set up the counter-surveillance around the object?
Where are the people on the lookout with walkie-talkies?
Who is scanning the police radio?
What do you do when two streets down the road there’s a burglary but you already got all your shit there?
Let’s just assume.
You don’t want any surprises, of course.
Step by step you go through the script. In person. Not by telephone. Never meet at the same place twice.
We’re gathering in the canteen of a university.
Coffee finished? Let’s go. You can always find a room to share some knowledge.
Where’s the point of departure?
Who’s taking care of the detonators, gasoline, and time delays?
What’s the gathering point?
Which route do you take?
You buy dark, comfortable, season-appropriate clothing that’s not too tight. And a pair of sneakers. At the army dump you get a balaclava.
It’s 10 pm. I get on my bike.
You have to make sure you get away clean. So without a tail.
That you’re not followed.
A car brings the stuff. Or two or three cars. Whatever, I don’t need to know everything.
The drop-off point is in a meadow. On the other side of the 5 ditch. It’s all there, covered with a tarp.
I pull the balaclava over my head and put on my gloves.
Are we finally fucking ready to go? Over.
They’re leaving now. Let’s get the party started. Over.
Through the meadow.
Along the wall to the first side door.
Watch your step!
Crouching. All clear? Over.
I kneel down and press the point of the drill into the wood.
[3x sound of a hand drill. grating noise: GRRR–GRRRGRRR]
[2x sound of a hand drill. grating noise: GRRR–GRRR] My god, I feel good here.
Are the stools steady?
Jerrycans on top of the stools?
I push a PVC pipe with detonators taped to it and wires through the hole.
Hose attached to jerrycan?
Time delay set?
Gasoline flowing inside?
Tonight we have attacked a part of the Dutch business empire in South Africa. You can’t effect change by endless sessions in Parliament. You have to fight for change by attacking all those economic, political, and military institutions here – in the heart of imperialism – that facilitate the oppression here and elsewhere. Therein lies the communality of our struggle, our only perspective and our unconditional solidarity with the militants in South Africa.
SUPPORT THE REVOLUTION IN SOUTH AFRICA AND CREATE THE FRONT IN EUROPE
At home I light my wood stove.
I take off my clothes.
I throw everything in the fire.
Exciting, isn’t it?
Summarized in three minutes it is. But it’s also just boring.
End-less-ly boring. All those preparations. Night after night after night in those bushes.
Really more than is good for me.
Sleeping during the day.
Another meeting. And every time you need to find a new place to meet.
You know, not all of it is fun. Months of work for a few hours of action.
And here I am. Naked. Staring at the flames.
You get up around noon. Say hi to your roommates as if nothing has happened. Looks are exchanged. But you’re not having a nice chat at the stairs. Not about this.
You just get the copy of the Volkskrant you buy every day. Not all other newspapers, because that’s suspicious behavior.
Of course you hear the news. And you review it as well. You’re not enemy of the state number one yet. But you’re certainly top five.
And of course they’ll call you a terrorist.
Terrorism is a tactic to sow fear. Splits society into two camps: either for or against. Removes all shades of grey.
We don’t spread that kind of fear.
It’s about goods. Not about people.
RARA sharpens the debate. Adds an element to the broad extraparliamentary anti-apartheid movement. But stays explicitly in that grey zone. At the far end of that spectrum.
Sure. In the dark grey area, so to say.
You hear it all the time.
They reject us, without having to deal with our message.
Impossible to talk to!
Whom or what are they serving actually? Why don’t they judge our action based on content?
What we do makes sense. The flood of criticism only confirms this. At least, that’s how I’m framing it.
I mean, there is really an incredible amount of fuss about SHV and its business in South Africa. And, more importantly: a considerable portion of its revenue has been affected.
You bet SHV is feeling this.
You know, we’re not so naive to think: we have dealt capitalism a big blow.
Still I feel some sort of pride. That we did it. That we did it well.
And no one got hurt.
You choose a remote location. You choose an incendiary device that develops slowly. You know what’s happening around the building. You know there’s no one there. You stay on site until the thing detonates, so that you’re able to intervene until the very last moment. But is it enough?
Wouldn’t it be problematic if we didn’t doubt ourselves? You’re in shock. 48 million in damages. Serious business. But anyway. What is a shitty little fire compared to the blood that is shed in the townships?
What is the state going to do? Will the beast be unleashed? Public opinion has long made up its mind about apartheid. And we really do everything to avoid casualties. And the state is already under mounting pressure from society because of its failing boycott policy. Added together, this should make it 8 difficult for the police and secret services to cut corners.
But you can’t be sure.
So for now it’s just laying low.
Staying beneath the radar.
Awaiting the response.
Saturday you’ll sing along with the anti-apartheid choir. Or you’ll join a protest. Isn’t there a house meeting this week?
But with every conversation you have with someone you put out your feelers.
You constantly have to watch what you’re saying. And how you’re saying it. And to whom you’re saying it.
You are about to meet someone to prepare the next action.
You walk out of the door.
You feel eyes in your back.
You’re almost there.
Did I get rid of them or not?
Probably better to return home.
Where and when?
You don’t know.
And if you’re not caught red-handed on the spot, then it’s by political pressure.
They cannot let this slide.
Sooner or later they’ll get you.
You do know that.
But it hasn’t gotten that far yet
Bring it on.
Come and find us.