Senza Titolo: Solidarity

Many comrades produce solidarity in the way that bald people produce lice. They do so in great quantity, in every way, towards all those

needy of tokens of solidarity: the persecuted, the oppressed, the meek, the disabled, towards all those who have been or are about to be

deprived of something.
It’s not true that giving solidarity is cheap, as some malicious minds would have it, saying it in whispers of course. On the contrary it has

a price, it costs a lot, it costs in terms of effort, early rising (a little) to get to the physical places where the abuse is committed, late

nights (many) passed discussing how to organise oneself in the most opportune way to assist and help every kind of needy person.
Revolutionaries with the candid souls of Clarissa nuns in nurses’ uniforms gradually wither away, growing old and fat in the shadow of

these assistential procedures without deflecting an instant. Now one can see them day and night attached to their cell phones in

conversation with other social workers of every species to better produce solidarity, uninterruptedly, without perplexity, without any

doubt. The specialisation does not dishearten them, on the contrary it reconfirms their lives.
Life, seen as a whole, and therefore in a reduced and simply paradigmatic framework, oscillates between doing and acting. The first

position is stable, temporalised, garantor of a certain albeit incomplete consciousness, gratifying, even if in the long run it produces

habituation to stupidity. The second is uncertain, provisional, clear of stable and prefixed positions; it is fragmentary and discontinuous,

happens and makes happen in a non temporal point.
Now, for a long time – even too long – we have been asking ourselves what we should mean by solidarity. A declaration of intent? A

recognition of the situation of distretta in which someone is to be found? A communiqué concerning the repressive organs that the object

of repression is not alone but finds at his side ourselves trained combattants devoid of common goals but all ears in picking up every

raising of the truncheon?
I understand that some comrade can find himself in the objective and circumscribed situation of being faced with specific repressive

situations that touch the heart. I also understand that many comrades of a tender heart almost, almost draw these situations upon

themselves like magnets operating if not exactly life choices at least choice of field.
But revolutionary solidarity is something else.
Let us try, for the nth time, to clarify the problem.
I think, for the love of argument, that it is possible to hypothesize two situations: solidarity that I mean to give to the excluded in general

and that which I intend to give to the comrades struck by the repression. It might seem like the same thing but it is not. Concerning the

first I can denounce the repressive processes but my primary aim cannot stop there, it must go beyond that, I must that is try to

organise the excluded in question to realise along with them an attack against the instruments and men that this repression realises.

Concerning the second my revolutionary solidarity can only consist in continuing the revolutionary project for which the comrades were

struck by the repression.
It is clear that in both cases the initial moment of the solidarity is only a passage, even pleonastic if not merely secondary, to moving to a

successive moment. In the case of the excluded in general it has the aim, not as an end in itself, of making myself known to present the

organisational project, this yes of a revolutionary nature. In the case of the comrades simple solidarity is almost counterproductive if my

real aim remains that of continuing their project, because it could jeopardise precisely this continuation, making publicly known a sharing

of intent that it is not always useful to bring to the attention of repression. It goes without saying that if I do not agree with the project

of the comrades under attack by the repression I am not prepared to give them my solidarity at all, which would merely be a banal

manifestation of my existence on my part (here I am: I’m here, I exist too) and would have nothing revolutionary about it.
For many, contrary to what is suddenly being exposed here, solidarity is a covenient drawer in which to put one’s daily misery. In this way

being in solidarity with whoever ends up in prison (Stalinists included) becomes a sport to carry out full time, with the worthy result of

feeling oneself alive and useful for something.
Improbable musical groups, frequenters of taverns, Sunday picnickers, meet up with rhythms worthy of greater things and assist all those

who raise a hand to ask for help: prisoners and migrants in the first place, these two sectors are practically inexhaustible.
And so on.







Many comrades produce solidarity like bald people produce lice. They do so in great quantity, of every kind, towards every kind of needy

of tokens of solidarity: the persecuted, the oppressed, the meek, the disabled, towards all those who have been or are about to be

deprived of something.
It’s not true that giving solidarity costs little, as some malevolo pensante maintain, trying however to say it quietly, on the contrary it has

a price, it costs a lot, it costs in terms of effort, of levatacce (little) to get to the physical places where the prevarication is consumed,

of seratacce (many) passed discussing how to organise oneself in the most opportune way to assist and help every kind of needy person.

Revolutionaries with the candid souls of Clarisse sisters in nurses uniforms are gradually sfioriti getting old and fat in the shadow of these

assistential procedures without deflecting one instant. Now one can see them day and night attached to their cell phones in conversation

with other social workers of every pelo to better produce solidarity, without interruption, without perplexity, without any doubt. The

specialisation does not avvilisce them, on the contrary it reconfirms their lives.

Life, seen as a whole, and therefore in a reduced and simply modulistic paradigmatic framework, oscillates between doing and acting. The

first position is stable, temporalised, garant of a certain consapevolezza seppure incomplete, and gratifying, even if it produces alla lunga

assuefazione alla stupidity. The second is uncertain, provisional, sganciata from stable and prefixed positions, fragmentary and

discontinuous, accade and fa accadere in a non temporal point.

Now, for a long time – perfino too long – we have been asking ourselves what we should mean by solidarity. A declaration of intent? A

recognition of the situation of distretta in which someone is to be found? A communiqué concerning the repressive ente that the object of

repression is not alone but finds at his side ourselves agguerriti combattents sprovisti of comunita d’intenti but all ears in cogliere every

rise of the truncheon?

I understand that some comrade can find himself in the objective and circumscribed situation of being faced with specific repressive

situations that touch the heart. I also understand that many comrades of a tender heart these situations almost almost se le calamitano

addosso operating if not exactly life choices at least choices of field.
But revolutionary solidarity is something else.

Let us try, for the nth time, to clarify the problem.
I think, for the love of argument, that it is possible to hypothesize two situations: solidarity that I mean to give to the excluded in general

and that which I intend to give to the comrades struck by the repression. It might seem like the same thing but it is not. In confronti the

first I can denounce the repressive processes but my primary aim cannot stop here, it must go beyond that, I must that is try to organise

the excluded in question to realise along with them an attack against the instruments and men that this repression realises. Concerning

the second my revolutionary solidarity can only consist in continuing the revolutionary project for which the comrades were struck by the

repression.
It is clear that in both cases the initial moment of the solidarity is only a passaggio, perfino pleonastico if not merely secondary, to go to a

successive moment. In the case of the excluded in general it has the aim not as an end in itself of making myself known to present the

organisational project, this yes of a revolutionary nature. In the case of the comrades simple solidarity is almost counterproductive if my

real aim remains that of continuing their project, because it could mettere a repentaglio precisely this continuation, making known publicly

a sharing of intent that it is not always useful to take to the knowledge of the repression. It goes without saying that if I do not agree

with the project of the comrades under attack by the repression I am not prepared to even give them my solidarity, otherwise this would

only be a banal manifestation of existence in vita on my part (ecco: I’m here, I exist too) and would have nothing revolutionary about it.

For many, contrary to what is suddenly being exposed here, solidarity is the comfortable drawer in which to put one’s daily misery. In this

way being in solidarity with who finds themselves in prison (Stalinists included) becomes a sport to carry out full time, with the worthy

result of feeling oneself alive and useful for something.
Improbable musical groups, frequentors of taverns, scampagnatori domenicali, meet up with rythms worthy of greater things and assist all

those who lift up their hand to ask for help: prisoners and migrants in the first place, these two sectors are practically inexhaustible.
And so on.