Monday, 29 December 2014


#‎iCantBreathe‬: If our peoples in the usa in relation to police brutality say "We Can't Breathe", how does this relate to our peoples in ‪Libya‬, ‪Syria‬, ‪‎Ukraine‬, ‪Mali‬, ‪‎Nigeria‬, ‪Somalia‬, ‪Palestine‬, ‪#Afghanistan‬ etc who are also oppressed incomparably more by the same western state forces? 

Are they choked and all dead? Do their 'Black lives' matter as much as those in the 'west'? Perhaps we need to be more sensitive to all our peoples, perhaps we need to be sensitive that ALL 'Black lives' matter, perhaps we should be incorporating the quantitative and qualitative higher levels of western oppression and ‪‎Resistance to that outside of the 'west', perhaps we need to re-think and re-analyse our slogans, analysis and political action to broaden things out and be inclusive to our peoples in the non-west Homelands who, as ‪Malcolm X‬ said, are leading our Struggle? 

Our struggle is Global, our struggle is One, our Struggle must resist the millions of ways western states divide us into defacto acting like some western based Black lives matter more than the 100s of millions of other non-western Black lives. To quote my younger ‪Egyptian‬ and ‪Nubian‬ bro Kribsoo: ALL global Black lives matter!

- Sukant Chandan, Sons of Malcolm

Sunday, 28 December 2014


Towards a Third Cinema

by Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino

"...we must discuss, we must invent..." —Frantz Fanon


Just a short time ago it would have seemed like a Quixotic adventure in the colonised, neocolonised, or even the imperialist nations themselves to make any attempt to create films of decolonisation that turned their back on or actively opposed the System. Until recently, film had been synonymous with spectacle or entertainment: in a word, it was one more consumer good. At best, films succeeded in bearing witness to the decay of bourgeois values and testifying to social injustice. As a rule, films only dealt with effect, never with cause; it was cinema of mystification or anti-historicism. It was surplus value cinema. Caught up in these conditions, films, the most valuable tool of communication of our times, were destined to satisfy only the ideological and economic interests of the owners of the film industry, the lords of the world film market, the great majority of whom were from the United States.

Was it possible to overcome this situation? How could the problem of turning out liberating films be approached when costs came to several thousand dollars and the distribution and exhibition channels were in the hands of the enemy? How could the continuity of work be guaranteed? How could the public be reached? How could System-imposed repression and censorship be vanquished? These questions, which could be multiplied in all directions, led and still lead many people to scepticism or rationalisation: 'revolutionary cinema cannot exist before the revolution'; 'revolutionary films have been possible only in the liberated countries'; 'without the support of revolutionary political power, revolutionary cinema or art is impossible.' The mistake was due to taking the same approach to reality and films as did the bourgeoisie. The models of production, distribution, and exhibition continued to be those of Hollywood precisely because, in ideology and politics, films had not yet become the vehicle for a clearly drawn differentiation between bourgeois ideology and politics. A reformist policy, as manifested in dialogue with the adversary, in coexistence, and in the relegation of national contradictions to those between two supposedly unique blocs - the USSR and the USA - was and is unable to produce anything but a cinema within the System itself. At best, it can be the 'progressive' wing of Establishment cinema. When all is said and done, such cinema was doomed to wait until the world conflict was resolved peacefully in favour of socialism in order to change qualitatively. The most daring attempts of those film-makers who strove to conquer the fortress of official cinema ended, as Jean-Luc Godard eloquently put it, with the filmmakers themselves 'trapped inside the fortress.'

But the questions that were recently raised appeared promising; they arose from a new historical situation to which the film-maker, as is often the case with the educated strata of our countries, was rather a latecomer: ten years of the Cuban Revolution, the Vietnamese struggle, and the development of a worldwide liberation movement whose moving force is to be found in the Third World countries. The existence of masses on the worldwide revolutionary plane was the substantial fact without which those questions could not have been posed. A new historical situation and a new man born in the process of the anti-imperialist struggle demanded a new, revolutionary attitude from the film-makers of the world. The question of whether or not militant cinema was possible before the revolution began to be replaced, at least within small groups, by the question of whether or not such a cinema was necessary to contribute to the possibility of revolution. An affirmative answer was the starting point for the first attempts to channel the process of seeking possibilities in numerous countries. Examples are Newsreel, a US New Left film group, the cinegiornali of the Italian student movement, the films made by the Etats Generaux du Cinema Francais, and those of the British and Japanese student movements, all a continuation and deepening of the work of a Joris Ivens or a Chris Marker. Let it suffice to observe the films of a Santiago Alvarez in Cuba, or the cinema being developed by different film-makers in 'the homeland of all', as Bolivar would say, as they seek a revolutionary Latin American cinema.

A profound debate on the role of intellectuals and artists before liberation is today enriching the perspectives of intellectual work all over the world. However, this debate oscillates between two poles: one which proposes to relegate all intellectual work capacity to a specifically political or political-military function, denying perspectives to all artistic activity with the idea that such activity must ineluctably be absorbed by the System, and the other which maintains an inner duality of the intellectual: on the one hand, the 'work of art', the privilege of beauty', an art and a beauty which are not necessarily bound to the needs of the revolutionary political process, and, on the other, a political commitment which generally consists in signing certain antiimperialist manifestos. In practice, this point of view means the separation of politics and art.

This polarity rests, as we see it, on two omissions: first, the conception of culture, science, art, and cinema as univocal and universal terms, and, second, an insufficiently clear idea of the fact that the revolution does not begin with the taking of political power from imperialism and the bourgeoisie, but rather begins at the moment when the masses sense the need for change and their intellectual vanguards begin to study and carry out this change through activities on different fronts.

Culture, art, science, and cinema always respond to conflicting class interests. In the neocolonial situation two concepts of culture, art, science, and cinema compete: that of the rulers and that of the nation. And this situation will continue, as long as the national concept is not identified with that of the rulers, as long as the status of colony or semi-colony continues in force. Moreover, the duality will be overcome and will reach a single and universal category only when the best values of man emerge from proscription to achieve hegemony, when the liberation of man is universal. In the meantime, there exist our culture and their culture, our cinema and their cinema. Because our culture is an impulse towards emancipation, it will remain in existence until emancipation is a reality: a culture of subversion which will carry with it an art, a science, and a cinema of subversion.

The lack of awareness in regard to these dualities generally leads the intellectual to deal with artistic and scientific expressions as they were 'universally conceived' by the classes that rule the world, at best introducing some correction into these expressions. We have not gone deeply enough into developing a revolutionary theatre, architecture, medicine, psychology, and cinema; into developing a culture by and for us. The intellectual takes each of these forms of expression as a unit to be corrected from within the expression itself, and not from without, with its own new methods and models.

An astronaut or a Ranger mobilises all the scientific resources of imperialism. Psychologists, doctors, politicians, sociologists, mathematicians, and even artists are thrown into the study of everything that serves, from the vantage point of different specialities, the preparation of an orbital flight or the massacre of Vietnamese; in the long run, all of these specialities are equally employed to satisfy the needs of imperialism. In Buenos Aires the army eradicates villas miseria (urban shanty towns) and in their place puts up 'strategic hamlets' with town planning aimed at facilitating military intervention when the time comes. The revolutionary organisations lack specialised fronts not only in their medicine, engineering, psychology, and art - but also in our own revolutionary engineering, psychology, art, and cinema. In order to be effective, all these fields must recognise the priorities of each stage; those required by the struggle for power or those demanded by the already victorious revolution. Examples: creating a political sensitivity to the need to undertake a political-military struggle in order to take power; developing a medicine to serve the needs of combat in rural or urban zones; co-ordinating energies to achieve a 10 million ton sugar harvest as they attempted in Cuba; or elaborating an architecture, a city planning, that will be able to withstand the massive air raids that imperialism can launch at any time. The specific strengthening of each speciality and field subordinate to collective priorities can fill the empty spaces caused by the struggle for liberation and can delineate with greatest efficacy the role of the intellectual in our time. It is evident that revolutionary mass-level culture and awareness can only be achieved after the taking of political power, but it is no less true that the use of scientific and artistic means, together with political-military means, prepares the terrain for the revolution to become reality and facilitates the solution of the problems that will arise with the taking of power.

The intellectual must find through his action the field in which he can rationally perform the most efficient work. Once the front has been determined, his next task is to find out within that front exactly what is the enemy's stronghold and where and how he must deploy his forces. It is in this harsh and dramatic daily search that a culture of the revolution will be able to emerge, the basis which will nurture, beginning right now, the new man exemplified by Che - not man in the abstract, not the 'liberation of man', but another man, capable of arising from the ashes of the old, alienated man that we are and which the new man will destroy by starting to stoke the fire today.

The anti-imperialist struggle of the peoples of the Third World and of their equivalents inside the imperialist countries constitutes today the axis of the world revolution. Third cinema is, in our opinion, the cinema that recognises in that struggle the most gigantic cultural, scientific, and artistic manifestation of our time, the great possibility of constructing a liberated personality with each people as the starting point - in a word, the decolonisation of culture.

The culture, including the cinema, of a neocolonialised country is just the expression of an overall dependence that generates models and values born from the needs of imperialist expansion.

"In order to impose itself, neocolonialism needs to convince the people of a dependent country of their own inferiority. Sooner or later, the inferior man recognises Man with a capital M; this recognition means the destruction of his defences. If you want to be a man, says the oppressor, you have to be like me, speak my language, deny your own being, transform yourself into me. As early as the 17th century the Jesuit missionaries proclaimed the aptitude of the [South American] native for copying European works of art. Copyist, translator, interpreter, at best a spectator, the neocolonialised intellectual will always be encouraged to refuse to assume his creative possibilities. Inhibitions, uprootedness, escapism, cultural cosmopolitanism, artistic imitation, metaphysical exhaustion, betrayal of country - all find fertile soil in which to grow". (1)

Culture becomes bilingual.

"...not due to the use of two languages but because of the conjuncture of two cultural patterns of thinking. One is national, that of the people, and the other is estranging, that of the classes subordinated to outside forces. The admiration that the upper classes express for the us or Europe is the highest expression of their subjection. With the colonialisation of the upper classes the culture of imperialism indirectly introduces among the masses knowledge which cannot be supervised." (2)

Just as they are not masters of the land upon which they walk, the neocolonialised people are not masters of the ideas that envelop them. A knowledge of national reality presupposes going into the web of lies and confusion that arise from dependence. The intellectual is obliged to refrain from spontaneous thought; if he does think, he generally runs the risk of doing so in French or English - never in the language of a culture of his own which, like the process of national and social liberation, is still hazy and incipient. Every piece of data, every concept that floats around us, is part of a framework of mirages that is difficult to take apart.

The native bourgeoisie of the port cities such as Buenos Aires, and their respective intellectual elites, constituted, from the very origins of our history, the transmission belt of neocolonial penetration. Behind such watchwords as 'Civilisation or barbarism', manufactured in Argentina by Europeanising liberalism, was the attempt to impose a civilisation fully in keeping with the needs of imperialist expansion and the desire to destroy the resistance of the national masses, which were successively called the 'rabble', a 'bunch of blacks', and 'zoological detritus' in our country and the 'unwashed hordes' in Bolivia. In this way the ideologists of the semicountries, past masters in 'the play of big words, with an implacable, detailed, and rustic universalism' (3), served as spokesmen of those followers of Disraeli who intelligently proclaimed: 'I prefer the rights of the English to the rights of man.'

The middle sectors were and are the best recipients of cultural neocolonialism. Their ambivalent class condition, their buffer position between social polarities, and their broader possibilities of access to civilisation offer imperialism a base of social support which has attained considerable importance in some Latin American countries.

If in an openly colonial situation cultural penetration is the complement of a foreign army of occupation, during certain stages this penetration assumes major priority.

It serves to institutionalise and give a normal appearance to dependence. The main objective of this cultural deformation is to keep the people from realising their neocolonialised position and aspiring to change it. In this way educational colonisation is an effective substitute for the colonial police.(4)

Mass communications tend to complete the destruction of a national awareness and of a collective subjectivity on the way to enlightenment, a destruction which begins as soon as the child has access to these media, the education and culture of the ruling classes. In Argentina, 26 television channels; one million television sets; more than 50 radio stations; hundreds of newspapers, periodicals, and magazines; and thousands of records, films, etc., join their acculturating role of the colonialisation of taste and consciousness to the process of neocolonial education which begins in the university. 'Mass communications are more effective for neocolonialism than napalm. What is real, true, and rational is to be found on the margin of the law, just as are the people. Violence, crime, and destruction come to be Peace, Order, and Normality.'(5) Truth, then, amounts to subversion. Any form of expression or communication that tries to show national reality is subversion.

Cultural penetration, educational colonisation, an mass communications all join forces today in a desperate attempt to absorb, neutralise, or eliminate any expression that responds to an attempt at decolonisation. Neocolonialism makes a serious attempt to castrate, to digest, the cultural forms that arise beyond the bounds of its own aims. Attempts are made to remove from them precisely what makes them effective and dangerous; in short, it tries to depoliticise them. Or, to put it another way, to separate the cultural manifestation from the fight for national independence.

Ideas such as 'Beauty in itself is revolutionary' and 'All new cinema is revolutionary' are idealistic aspirations that do not touch the neocolonial condition, since they continue to conceive of cinema, art, and beauty as universal abstractions and not as an integral part of the national processes of decolonisation.

Any attempt, no matter how virulent, which does not serve to mobilise, agitate, and politicise sectors of the people, to arm them rationally and perceptibly, in one way or another, for the struggle - is received with indifference or even with pleasure. Virulence, nonconformism, plain rebelliousness, and discontent are just so many more products on the capitalist market; they are consumer goods. This is especially true in a situation where the bourgeoisie is in need of a daily dose of shock and exciting elements of controlled violence (7) - that is, violence which absorption by the System turns into pure stridency. Examples are the works of a socialist-tinged painting and sculpture which are greedily sought after by the new bourgeoisie to decorate their apartments and mansions; plays full of anger and avant-gardism which are noisily applauded by the ruling classes; the literature of 'progressive' writers concerned with semantics and man on the margin of time and space, which gives an air of democratic broadmindedness to the System's publishing houses and magazines; and the cinema of 'challenge,' of 'argument,' promoted by the distribution monopolies and launched by the big commercial outlets.

In reality the area of permitted protest of the System is much greater than the System is willing to admit. This gives the artists the illusion that they are acting 'against the system' by going beyond certain narrow limits; they do not realise that even anti-System art can be absorbed and utilised by the System, as both a brake and a necessary self-correction.(7)

Lacking an awareness of how to utilise what is ours for our true liberation - in a word, lacking politicisation - all of these 'progressive' alternatives come to form the leftist wing of the System, the improvement of its cultural products. They will be doomed to carry out the best work on the left that the right is able to accept today and will thus only serve the survival of the latter. 'Restore words, dramatic actions, and images to the places where they can carry out a revolutionary role, where they will be useful, where they will become weapons in the struggle.' (8) Insert the work as an original fact in the process of liberation, place it first at the service of life itself, ahead of art; dissolve aesthetics in the life of society: only in this way, as Fanon said, can decolonisation become possible and culture, cinema, and beauty - at least, what is of greatest importance to us - become our culture, our films, and our sense of beauty. The historical perspectives of Latin America and of the majority of the countries under imperialist domination are headed not towards a lessening of repression but towards an increase. We are heading not for bourgeois-democratic regimes but for dictatorial forms of government. The struggles for democratic freedoms, instead of seizing concessions from the System, move it to cut down on them, given its narrow margin for manoeuvring.

The bourgeois-democratic facade caved in some time ago. The cycle opened during the last century in Latin America with the first attempts at self-affirmation of a national bourgeoisie differentiated from the metropolis (examples are Rosas' federalism in Argentina, the Lopez and Francia regimes in Paraguay, and those of Bengido and Balmaceda in Chile) with a tradition that has continued well into our century: national-bourgeois, national-popular, and democratic-bourgeois attempts were made by Cardenas, Yrigoyen, Haya de la Torre, Vargas, Aguirre Cerda, Peron, and Arbenz. But as far as revolutionary prospects are concerned, the cycle has definitely been completed. The lines allowing for the deepening of the historical attempt of each of those experiences today pass through the sectors that understand the continent's situation as one of war and that are preparing, under the force of circumstances, to make that region the Vietnam of the coming decade. A war in which national liberation can only succeed when it is simultaneously postulated as social liberation - socialism as the only valid perspective of any national liberation process.

At this time in Latin America there is room for neither passivity nor innocence. The intellectual's commitment is measured in terms of risks as well as words and ideas; what he does to further the cause of liberation is what counts. The worker who goes on strike and thus risks losing his job or even his life, the student who jeopardises his career, the militant who keeps silent under torture: each by his or her action commits us to something much more important than a vague gesture of solidarity. (9)

In a situation in which the 'state of law' is replaced by the 'state of facts,' the intellectual, who is one more worker, functioning on a cultural front, must become increasingly radicalised to avoid denial of self and to carry out what is expected of him in our times. The impotence of all reformist concepts has already been exposed sufficiently, not only in politics but also in culture and films - and especially in the latter, whose history is that of imperialist domination - mainly Yankee.

While, during the early history (or the prehistory) of the cinema, it was possible to speak of a German, an Italian, or a Swedish cinema clearly differentiated and corresponding to specific national characteristics, today such differences have disappeared. The borders were wiped out along with the expansion of US imperialism and the film model that is imposed: Hollywood movies. In our times it is hard to find a film within the field of commercial cinema, including what is known as 'author's cinema,' in both the capitalist and socialist countries, that manages to avoid the models of Hollywood pictures. The latter have such a fast hold that monumental works such as Bondarchuk's War and Peace from the USSR are also monumental examples of the submission to all propositions imposed by the US movie industry (structure, language, etc.) and, consequently, to its concepts.

The placing of the cinema within US models, even in the formal aspect, in language, leads to the adoption of the ideological forms that gave rise to precisely that language and no other. Even the appropriation of models which appear to be only technical, industrial, scientific, etc., leads to a conceptual dependency, due to the fact that the cinema is an industry, but differs from other industries in that it has been created and organised in order to generate certain ideologies. The 35mm camera, 24 frames per second, arc lights, and a commercial place of exhibition for audiences were conceived not to gratuitously transmit any ideology, but to satisfy, in the first place, the cultural and surplus value needs of a specific ideology, of a specific world-view: that of US finance capital.

The mechanistic takeover of a cinema conceived as a show to be exhibited in large theatres with a standard duration, hermetic structures that are born and die on the screen, satisfies, to be sure, the commercial interests of the production groups, but it also leads to the absorption of forms of the bourgeois world-view which are the continuation of 19th century art, of bourgeois art: man is accepted only as a passive and consuming object; rather than having his ability to make history recognised, he is only permitted to read history, contemplate it, listen to it, and undergo it. The cinema as a spectacle aimed at a digesting object is the highest point that can be reached by bourgeois film-making. The world, experience, and the historic process are enclosed within the frame of a painting, the stage of a theatre, and the movie screen; man is viewed as a consumer of ideology, and not as the creator of ideology. This notion is the starting point for the wonderful interplay of bourgeois PHILOSOPHY and the obtaining of surplus value. The result is a cinema studied by motivational analysts, sociologists and psychologists, by the endless researchers of the dreams and frustrations of the masses, all aimed at selling movie-life, reality as it is conceived by the ruling classes.

The first alternative to this type of cinema, which we could call the first cinema, arose with the so-called 'author's cinema,' 'expression cinema,' 'nouvelle vague,' 'cinema novo,' or, conventionally, the second cinema. This alternative signified a step forward inasmuch as it demanded that the film-maker be free to express himself in non-standard language and inasmuch as it was an attempt at cultural decolonisation. But such attempts have already reached, or are about to reach, the outer limits of what the system permits. The second cinema film-maker has remained 'trapped inside the fortress' as Godard put it, or is on his way to becoming trapped. The search for a market of 200,000 moviegoers in Argentina, a figure that is supposed to cover the costs of an independent local production, the proposal of developing a mechanism of industrial production parallel to that of the System but which would be distributed by the System according to its own norms, the struggle to better the laws protecting the cinema and replacing 'bad officials' by 'less bad,' etc., is a search lacking in viable prospects, unless you consider viable the prospect of becoming institutionalised as 'the youthful, angry wing of society'- that is, of neocolonialised or capitalist society.

Real alternatives differing from those offered by the System are only possible if one of two requirements is fulfilled: making films that the System cannot assimilate and which are foreign to its needs, or making films that directly and explicitly set out to fight the System. Neither of these requirements fits within the alternatives that are still offered by the second cinema, but they can be found in the revolutionary opening towards a cinema outside and against the System, in a cinema of liberation: the third cinema.

One of the most effective jobs done by neocolonialism is its cutting off of intellectual sectors, especially artists, from national reality by lining them up behind 'universal art and models'. It has been very common for intellectuals and artists to be found at the tail end of popular struggle, when they have not actually taken up positions against it. The social layers which have made the greatest contribution to the building of a national culture (understood as an impulse towards decolonisation) have not been precisely the enlightened elites but rather the most exploited and uncivilised sectors. Popular organisations have very rightly distrusted the 'intellectual' and the 'artist'. When they have not been 'openly used by the bourgeoisie or imperialism, they have certainly been their indirect tools; most of them did not go beyond spouting a policy in favour of 'peace and democracy', fearful of anything that had a national ring to it, afraid of contaminating art with politics and the artists with the revolutionary militant. They thus tended to obscure the inner causes determining neocolonialised society and placed in the foreground the outer causes, which, while 'they are the condition for change, can never be the basis for change'; (10) in Argentina they replaced the struggle against imperialism and the native oligarchy with the struggle of democracy against fascism, suppressing the fundamental contradiction of a neocolonialised country and replacing it with 'a contradiction that was a copy of the world-wide contradiction.' (11)

This cutting off of the intellectual and artistic sectors from the processes of national liberation - which, among other things, helps us to understand the limitations in which these processes have been unfolding today tends to disappear to the extent that artists and intellectuals are beginning to discover the impossibility of destroying the enemy without first joining in a battle for their common interests. The artist is beginning to feel the insufficiency of his nonconformism and individual rebellion. And the revolutionary organisations, in turn, are discovering the vacuums that the struggle for power creates in the cultural sphere. The problems of film-making, the ideological limitations of a filmmaker in a neocolonialised country, etc., have thus far constituted objective factors in the lack of attention paid to the cinema by the people's organisations. Newspapers and other printed matter, posters and wall propaganda, speeches and other verbal forms of information, enlightenment, and politicisation are still the main means of communication between the organisations and the vanguard layers of the masses. But the new political positions of some film-makers and the subsequent appearance of films useful for liberation have permitted certain political vanguards to discover the importance of movies. This importance is to be found in the specific meaning of films as a form of communication and because of their particular characteristics, characteristics that allow them to draw audiences of different origins, many of them people who might not respond favourably to the announcement of a political speech. Films offer an effective pretext for gathering an audience, in addition to the ideological message they contain.

The capacity for synthesis and the penetration of the film image, the possibilities offered by the living document, and naked reality, and the power of enlightenment of audiovisual means make the film far more effective than any other tool of communication. It is hardly necessary to point out that those films which achieve an intelligent use of the possibilities of the image, adequate dosage of concepts, language and structure that flow naturally from each theme, and counterpoints of audiovisual narration achieve effective results in the politicisation and mobilisation of cadres and even in work with the masses, where this is possible.

The students who raised barricades on the Avenida 18 de Julio in Montevideo after the showing of La hora de los hornos (The Hour of the Furnaces), the growing demand for films such as those made by Santiago Alvarez and the Cuban documentary film movement, and the debates and meetings that take place after the underground or semipublic showings of third cinema films are the beginning of a twisting and difficult road being travelled in the consumer societies by the mass organisations (Cinegiornali liberi in Italy, Zengakuren documentaries in Japan, etc.). For the first time in Latin America, organisations are ready and willing to employ films for political-cultural ends: the Chilean Partido Socialista provides its cadres with revolutionary film material, while Argentine revolutionary Peronist and non-Peronist groups are taking an interest in doing likewise. Moreover, OSPAAAL (Organisation of Solidarity of the People of Africa, Asia and Latin America) is participating in the production and distribution of films that contribute to the anti-imperialist struggle. The revolutionary organisations are discovering the need for cadres who, among other things, know how to handle a film camera, tape recorders, and projectors in the most effective way possible. The struggle to seize power from the enemy is the meeting ground of the political and artistic vanguards engaged in a common task which is enriching to both.

Some of the circumstances that delayed the use of films as a revolutionary tool until a short time ago were lack of equipment, technical difficulties, the compulsory specialisation of each phase of work, and high costs. The advances that have taken place within each specialisation; the simplification of movie cameras and tape recorders; improvements in the medium itself, such as rapid film that can be shot in normal light; automatic light meters; improved audiovisual synchronisation; and the spread of know-how by means of specialised magazines with large circulations and even through nonspecialised media, have helped to demystify film-making and divest it of that almost magic aura that made it seem that films were only within the reach of 'artists', 'geniuses', and 'the privileged'. Filmmaking is increasingly within the reach of larger social layers. Chris Marker experimented in France with groups of workers whom he provided with 8mm equipment and some basic instruction in its handling. The goal was to have the worker film his way of looking at the world, just as if he were writing it. This has opened up unheard-of prospects for the cinema; above all, a new conception of film-making and the significance of art in our times.

Imperialism and capitalism, whether in the consumer society or in the neocolonialised country, veil everything behind a screen of images and appearances. The image of reality is more important than reality itself. It is a world peopled with fantasies and phantoms in which what is hideous is clothed in beauty, while beauty is disguised as the hideous. On the one hand, fantasy, the imaginary bourgeois universe replete with comfort, equilibrium, sweet reason, order, efficiency, and the possibility to 'be someone'. And, on the other, the phantoms, we the lazy, we the indolent and underdeveloped, we who cause disorder. When a neocolonialised person accepts his situation, he becomes a Gungha Din, a traitor at the service of the colonialist, an Uncle Tom, a class and racial renegade, or a fool, the easy-going servant and bumpkin; but, when he refuses to accept his situation of oppression, then he turns into a resentful savage, a cannibal. Those who lose sleep from fear of the hungry, those who comprise the System, see the revolutionary as a bandit, robber, and rapist; the first battle waged against them is thus not on a political plane, but rather in the police context of law, arrests, etc. The more exploited a man is, the more he is placed on a plane of insignificance. The more he resists, the more he is viewed as a beast. This can be seen in Africa Addio, made by the fascist Jacopetti: the African savages, killer animals, wallow in abject anarchy once they escape from white protection. Tarzan died, and in his place were born Lumumbas and Lobegulas, Nkomos, and the Madzimbamutos, and this is something that neocolonialism cannot forgive. Fantasy has been replaced by phantoms and man is turned into an extra who dies so Jacopetti can comfortably film his execution.

I make the revolution; therefore I exist. This is the starting point for the disappearance of fantasy and phantom to make way for living human beings. The cinema of the revolution is at the same time one of destruction and construction: destruction of the image that neocolonialism has created of itself and of us, and construction of a throbbing, living reality which recaptures truth in any of its expressions.

The restitution of things to their real place and meaning is an eminently subversive fact both in the neocolonial situation and in the consumer societies. In the former, the seeming ambiguity or pseudo-objectivity in newspapers, literature, etc., and the relative freedom of the people's organisations to provide their own information cease to exist, giving way to overt restriction, when it is a question of television and radio, the two most important System-controlled or monopolised communications media. Last year's May events in France are quite explicit on this point.

In a world where the unreal rules, artistic expression is shoved along the channels of fantasy, fiction, language in code, sign language, and messages whispered between the lines. Art is cut off from the concrete facts - which, from the neocolonialist standpoint, are accusatory testimonies - to turn back on itself, strutting about in a world of abstractions and phantoms, where it becomes 'timeless' and history-less. Vietnam can be mentioned, but only far from Vietnam; Latin America can be mentioned, but only far enough away from the continent to be effective, in places where it is depoliticised and where it does not lead to action.

The cinema known as documentary, with all the vastness that the concept has today, from educational films to the reconstruction of a fact or a historical event, is perhaps the main basis of revolutionary film-making. Every image that documents, bears witness to, refutes or deepens the truth of a situation is something more than a film image or purely artistic fact; it becomes something which the System finds indigestible.

Testimony about a national reality is also an inestimable means of dialogue and knowledge on the world plane. No internationalist form of struggle can be carried out successfully if there is not a mutual exchange of experiences among the people, if the people do not succeed in breaking out of the Balkanisation on the international, continental, and national planes which imperialism is striving to maintain.

There is no knowledge of a reality as long as that reality is not acted upon, as long as its transformation is not begun on all fronts of struggle. The well-known quote from Marx deserves constant repetition: it is not sufficient to interpret the world; it is now a question of transforming it.

With such an attitude as his starting point, it remains to the film-maker to discover his own language, a language which will arise from a militant and transforming world-view and from the theme being dealt with. Here it may well be pointed out that certain political cadres still maintain old dogmatic positions, which ask the artist or film-maker to provide an apologetic view of reality, one which is more in line with wishful thinking than with what actually is. Such positions, which at bottom mask a lack of confidence in the possibilities of reality itself, have in certain cases led to the use of film language as a mere idealised illustration of a fact, to the desire to remove reality's deep contradictions, its dialectic richness, which is precisely the kind of depth which can give a film beauty and effectiveness. The reality of the revolutionary processes all over the world, in spite of their confused and negative aspects, possesses a dominant line, a synthesis which is so rich and stimulating that it does not need to be schematised with partial or sectarian views.

Pamphlet films, didactic films, report films, essay films, witness-bearing films - any militant form of expression is valid, and it would be absurd to lay down a set of aesthetic work norms. Be receptive to all that the people have to offer, and offer them the best; or, as Che put it, respect the people by giving them quality. This is a good thing to keep in mind in view of those tendencies which are always latent in the revolutionary artist to lower the level of investigation and the language of a theme, in a kind of neopopulism, down to levels which, while they may be those upon which the masses move, do not help them to get rid of the stumbling blocks left by imperialism. The effectiveness of the best films of militant cinema show that social layers considered backward are able to capture the exact meaning of an association of images, an effect of staging, and any linguistic experimentation placed within the context of a given idea. Furthermore, revolutionary cinema is not fundamentally one which illustrates, documents, or passively establishes a situation: rather, it attempts to intervene in the situation as an element providing thrust or rectification. To put it another way, it provides discovery through transformation.

The differences that exist between one and another liberation process make it impossible to lay down supposedly universal norms. A cinema which in the consumer society does not attain the level of the reality in which it moves can play a stimulating role in an underdeveloped country, just as a revolutionary cinema in the neocolonial situation will not necessarily be revolutionary if it is mechanically taken to the metropolitan country.

Teaching the handling of guns can be revolutionary where there are potentially or explicitly viable leaders ready to throw themselves into the struggle to take power, but ceases to be revolutionary where the masses still lack sufficient awareness of their situation or where they have already learned to handle guns. Thus, a cinema which insists upon the denunciation of the effects of neocolonial policy is caught up in a reformist game if the consciousness of the masses has already assimilated such knowledge; then the revolutionary thing is to examine the causes, to investigate the ways of organising and arming for the change. That is, imperialism can sponsor films that fight illiteracy, and such pictures will only be inscribed within the contemporary need of imperialist policy, but, in contrast, the making of such films in Cuba after the triumph of the Revolution was clearly revolutionary. Although their starting point was just the fact of teaching, reading and writing, they had a goal which was radically different from that of imperialism: the training of people for liberation, not for subjection.

The model of the perfect work of art, the fully rounded film structured according to the metrics imposed by bourgeois culture, its theoreticians and critics, has served to inhibit the film-maker in the dependent countries, especially when he has attempted to erect similar models in a reality which offered him neither the culture, the techniques, nor the most primary elements for success. The culture of the metropolis kept the age-old secrets that had given life to its models; the transposition of the latter to the neocolonial reality was always a mechanism of alienation, since is was not possible for the artist of the dependent country to absorb, in a few years, the secrets of a culture and society elaborated through the centuries in completely different historical circumstances. The attempt in the sphere of filmmaking to match the pictures of the ruling countries generally ends in failure, given the existence of two disparate historical realities. And such unsuccessful attempts lead to feelings of frustration and inferiority. Both these feelings arise in the first place from the fear of taking risks along completely new roads which are almost a total denial of 'their cinema'. A fear of recognising the particularities and limitations of dependency in order to discover the possibilities inherent in that situation by finding ways of overcoming it which would of necessity be original.

The existence of a revolutionary cinema is inconceivable without the constant and methodical exercise of practice, search, and experimentation. It even means committing the new film-maker to take chances on the unknown, to leap into space at times, exposing himself to failure as does the guerrilla who travels along paths that he himself opens up with machete blows. The possibility of discovering and inventing film forms and structures that serve a more profound vision of our reality resides in the ability to place oneself on the outside limits of the familiar, to make one's way amid constant dangers.

Our time is one of hypothesis rather than of thesis, a time of works in progress - unfinished, unordered, violent works made with the camera in one hand and a rock in the other. Such works cannot be assessed according to the traditional theoretical and critical canons. The ideas for our film theory and criticism will come to life through inhibition-removing practice and experimentation. 'Knowledge begins with practice. After acquiring theoretical knowledge through practice, it is necessary to return to practice.' (12) Once he has embarked upon this practice, the revolutionary filmmaker will have to overcome countless obstacles; he will experience the loneliness of those who aspire to the praise of the System's promotion media only to find that those media are closed to him. As Godard would say, he will cease to be a bicycle champion to become an anonymous bicycle rider, Vietnamese-style, submerged in a cruel and prolonged war. But he will also discover that there is a receptive audience that looks upon his work as something of its own existence, and that is ready to defend him in a way that it would never do with any world bicycle champion.

In this long war, with the camera as our rifle, we do in fact move into a guerrilla activity. This is why the work of a film-guerrilla group is governed by strict disciplinary norms as to both work methods and security. A revolutionary film group is in the same situation as a guerrilla unit: it cannot grow strong without military structures and command concepts. The group exists as a network of complementary responsibilities, as the sum and synthesis of abilities, inasmuch as it operates harmonically with a leadership that centralises planning work and maintains its continuity. Experience shows that it is not easy to maintain the cohesion of a group when it is bombarded by the System and its chain of accomplices frequently disguised as 'progressives', when there are no immediate and spectacular outer incentives and the members must undergo the discomforts and tensions of work that is done underground and distributed clandestinely. Many abandon their responsibilities because they underestimate them or because they measure them with values appropriate to System cinema and not underground cinema. The birth of internal conflicts is a reality present in any group, whether or not it possesses ideological maturity. The lack of awareness of such an inner conflict on the psychological or personality plane, etc., the lack of maturity in dealing with problems of relationships, at times leads to ill feeling and rivalries that in turn cause real clashes going beyond ideological or objective differences. All of this means that a basic condition is an awareness of the problems of interpersonal relationships, leadership and areas of competence. What is needed is to speak clearly, mark off work areas, assign responsibilities and take on the job as a rigorous militancy.

Guerrilla film-making proletarianises the film worker and breaks down the intellectual aristocracy that the bourgeoisie grants to its followers. In a word, it democratises. The film-maker's tie with reality makes him more a part of his people. Vanguard layers and even masses participate collectively in the work when they realise that it is the continuity of their daily struggle. La hora de los hornos shows how a film can be made in hostile circumstances when it has the support and collaboration of militants and cadres from the people.

The revolutionary film-maker acts with a radically new vision of the role of the producer, team-work, tools, details, etc. Above all, he supplies himself at all levels in order to produce his films, he equips himself at all levels, he learns how to handle the manifold techniques of his craft. His most valuable possessions are the tools of his trade, which form part and parcel of his need to communicate. The camera is the inexhaustible expropriator of image-weapons; the projector, a gun that can shoot 24 frames per second.

Each member of the group should be familiar, at least in a general way, with the equipment being used: he must be prepared to replace another in any of the phases of production. The myth of irreplaceable technicians must be exploded.

The whole group must grant great importance to the minor details of the production and the security measures needed to protect it. A lack of foresight which in conventional film-making would go unnoticed can render virtually useless weeks or months of work. And a failure in guerrilla cinema, just as in the guerrilla struggle itself, can mean the loss of a work or a complete change of plans. 'In a guerrilla struggle the concept of failure is present a thousand times over, and victory a myth that only a revolutionary can dream.'(13) Every member of the group must have an ability to take care of details, discipline, speed, and, above all, the willingness to overcome the weaknesses of comfort, old habits, and the whole climate of pseudonormality behind which the warfare of everyday life is hidden. Each film is a different operation, a different job requiring variation in methods in order to confuse or refrain from alerting the enemy, especially since the processing laboratories are still in his hands.

The success of the work depends to a great extent on the group's ability to remain silent, on its permanent wariness, a condition that is difficult to achieve in a situation in which apparently nothing is happening and the film-maker has been accustomed to telling all and sundry about everything that he's doing because the bourgeoisie has trained him precisely on such a basis of prestige and promotion. The watchwords 'constant vigilance, constant wariness, constant mobility' have profound validity for guerrilla cinema. You have to give the appearance of working on various projects, split up the material, put it together, take it apart, confuse, neutralise, and throw off the track. All of this is necessary as long as the group doesn't have its own processing equipment, no matter how rudimentary, and there remain certain possibilities in the traditional laboratories.

Group-level co-operation between different countries can serve to assure the completion of a film or the execution of certain phases of work that may not be possible in the country of origin. To this should be added the need for a filing centre for materials to be used by the different groups and the perspective of coordination, on a continent-wide or even worldwide scale, of the continuity of work in each country: periodic regional or international gatherings to exchange experience, contributions, joint planning of work, etc.

At least in the earliest stages the revolutionary film-maker and the work groups will be the sole producers of their films. They must bear the responsibility of finding ways to facilitate the continuity of work. Guerrilla cinema still doesn't have enough experience to set down standards in this area; what experience there is has shown, above all, the ability to make use of the concrete situation of each country. But, regardless of what these situations may be, the preparation of a film cannot be undertaken without a parallel study of its future audience and, consequently, a plan to recover the financial investment. Here, once again, the need arises for closer ties between political and artistic vanguards, since this also serves for the joint study of forms of production, exhibition, and continuity.

A guerrilla film can be aimed only at the distribution mechanisms provided by the revolutionary organisations, including those invented or discovered by the film-maker themselves. Production, distribution, and economic possibilities for survival must form part of a single strategy. The solution of the problems faced in each of these areas will encourage other people to join in the work of guerrilla film-making, which will enlarge its ranks and thus make it less vulnerable.

The distribution of guerrilla films in Latin America is still in swaddling clothes while System reprisals are already a legalised fact. Suffice it to note in Argentina the raids that have occurred during some showings and the recent film suppression law of a clearly fascist character; in Brazil the ever-increasing restrictions placed upon the most militant comrades of Cinema Novo; and in Venezuela the banning of La hora de los hornos; over almost all the continent censorship prevents any possibility of public distribution.

Without revolutionary films and a public that asks for them, any attempt to open up new ways of distribution would be doomed to failure. But both of these already exist in Latin America. The appearance of the films opened up a road which in some countries, such as Argentina, occurs through showings in apartments and houses to audiences of never more than 25 people; in other countries, such as Chile, films are shown in parishes, universities, or cultural centres (of which there are fewer every day); and, in the case of Uruguay, showings were given in Montevideo's biggest movie theatre to an audience of 2,500 people, who filled the theatre and made every showing an impassioned anti-imperialist event. But the prospects on the continental plane indicate that the possibility for the continuity of a revolutionary cinema rests upon the strengthening of rigorously underground base structures.

Practice implies mistakes and failures.(14) Some comrades will let themselves be carried away by the success and impunity with which they present the first showings and will tend to relax security measures, while others will go in the opposite direction of excessive precautions or fearfulness, to such an extent that distribution remains circumscribed, limited to a few groups of friends. Only concrete experience in each country will demonstrate which are the best methods there, which do not always lend themselves to application in other situations.

In some places it will be possible to build infrastructures connected to political, student, worker, and other organisations, while in others it will be more suitable to sell prints to organisations which will take charge of obtaining the funds necessary to pay for each print (the cost of the print plus a small margin). This method, wherever possible, would appear to be the most viable, because it permits the decentralisation of distribution; makes possible a more profound political use of the film; and permits the recovery, through the sale of more prints, of the funds invested in the production. It is true that in many countries the organisations still are not fully aware of the importance of this work, or, if they are, may lack the means to undertake it. In such cases other methods can be used: the delivery of prints to encourage distribution and a box-office cut to the organisers of each showing, etc. The ideal goal to be achieved would be producing and distributing guerrilla films with funds obtained from expropriations from the bourgeoisie - that is, the bourgeoisie would be financing guerrilla cinema with a bit of the surplus value that it gets from the people. But, as long as the goal is no more than a middle- or long-range aspiration, the alternatives open to revolutionary cinema to recover production and distribution costs are to some extent similar to those obtained for conventional cinema: every spectator should pay the same amount as he pays to see System cinema. Financing, subsidising, equipping, and supporting revolutionary cinema are political responsibiities for revolutionary organisations and militants. A film can be made, but if its distribution does not allow for the recovery of the costs, it will be difficult or impossible to make a second film.

The 16mm film circuits in Europe (20,000 exhibition centres in Sweden, 30,000 in France, etc.) are not the best example for the neocolonialised countries, but they are nevertheless a complementary source for fund raising, especially in a situation in which such circuits can play an important role in publicising the struggles in the Third World, increasingly related as they are to those unfolding in the metropolitan countries. A film on the Venezuelan guerrillas will say more to a European public than twenty explanatory pamphlets, and the same is true for us with a film on the May events in France or the Berkeley, USA, student struggle.

A Guerrilla Films International? And why not? Isn't it true that a kind of new International is arising through the Third World struggles; through OSPAAAL(15) and the revolutionary vanguards of the consumer societies?

A guerrilla cinema, at this stage still within the reach of limited layers of the population, is, nevertheless, the only cinema of the masses possible today, since it is the only one involved with the interests, aspirations, and prospects of the vast majority of the people. Every important film produced by a revolutionary cinema will be, explicitly, or not, a national event of the masses.

This cinema of the masses, which is prevented from reaching beyond the sectors representing the masses, provokes with each showing, as in a revolutionary military incursion, a liberated space, a decolonised territory. The showing can be turned into a kind of political event, which, according to Fanon, could be 'a liturgical act, a privileged occasion for human beings to hear and be heard.'

Militant cinema must be able to extract the infinity of new possibilities that open up for it from the conditions of proscription imposed by the System. The attempt to overcome neocolonial oppression calls for the invention of forms of communication; it opens up the possibility.

Before and during the making of La hora de los hornos we tried out various methods for the distribution of revolutionary cinema - the little that we had made up to then. Each showing for militants, middlelevel cadres, activists, workers, and university students became - without our having set ourselves this aim beforehand - a kind of enlarged cell meeting of which the films were a part but not the most important factor. We thus discovered a new facet of cinema: the participation of people who, until then, were considered spectators.

At times, security reasons obliged us to try to dissolve the group of participants as soon as the showing was over, and we realised that the distribution of that kind of film had little meaning if it was not complemented by the participation of the comrades, if a debate was not opened on the themes suggested by the films.

We also discovered that every comrade who attended such showings did so with full awareness that he was infringing the System's laws and exposing his personal security to eventual repression. This person was no longer a spectator; on the contrary, from the moment he decided to attend the showing, from the moment he lined himself up on this side by taking risks and contributing his living experience to the meeting, he became an actor, a more important protagonist than those who appeared in the films. Such a person was seeking other committed people like himself, while he, in turn, became committed to them. The spectator made way for the actor, who sought himself in others.

Outside this space which the films momentarily helped to liberate, there was nothing but solitude, noncommunication, distrust, and fear; within the freed space the situation turned everyone into accomplices of the act that was unfolding. The debates arose spontaneously. As we gained inexperience, we incorporated into the showing various elements (a mise en scene) to reinforce the themes of the films, the climate of the showing, the 'disinhibiting' of the participants, and the dialogue: recorded music or poems, sculpture and paintings, posters, a programme director who chaired the debate and presented the film and the comrades who were speaking, a glass of wine, a few mates,(16) etc. We realised that we had at hand three very valuable factors:
1) The participant comrade, the man-actor-accomplice who responded to the summons;
2) The free space where that man expressed his concerns and ideas, became politicised, and started to free himself; and
3) The film, important only as a detonator or pretext.

We concluded from these data that a film could be much more effective if it were fully aware of these factors and took on the task of subordinating its own form, structure, language, and propositions to that act and to those actors-to put it another way, if it sought its own liberation in its subordination to and insertion in others, the principal protagonists of life. With the correct utilisation of the time that that group of actorpersonages offered us with their diverse histories, the use of the space offered by certain comrades, and of the films themselves, it was necessary to try to transform time, energy, and work into freedom-giving energy. In this way the idea began to grow of structuring what we decided to call the film act, the film action, one of the forms which we believe assumes great importance in affirming the line of a third cinema. A cinema whose first experiment is to be found, perhaps on a rather shaky level, in the second and third parts of La hora de los hornos ('Acto para la liberacion'; above all, starting with 'La resistencia' and 'Violencia y liberacion').

"Comrades [we said at the start of 'Acto para la liberacion'], this is not just a film showing, nor is it a show; rather, it is, above all A meeting - an act of anti-imperialist unity; this is a place only for those who feel identified with this struggle, because here there is no room for spectators or for accomplices of the enemy; here there is room only for the authors and protagonists of the process which the film attempts to bear witness to and to deepen. The film is the pretext for dialogue, for the seeking and finding of wills. It is a report that we place before you for your consideration, to be debated after the showing.

"The conclusions [we said at another point in the second part] at which you may arrive as the real authors and protagonists of this history are important. The experiences and conclusions that we have assembled have a relative worth; they are of use to the extent that they are useful to you, who are the present and future of liberation. But most important of all is the action that may arise from these conclusions, the unity on the basis of the facts. This is why the film stops here; it opens out to you so that you can continue it.]

The film act means an open-ended film; it is essentially a way of learning.

"The first step in the process of knowledge is the first contact with the things of the outside world, the stage of sensations [in a film the living fresco of IMAGE and sound]. The second step is the synthesising of the data provided by the sensations; their ordering and elaboration; the stage of concepts, judgements, opinions, and deductions [in the film the announcer, the reportings, the didactics, or the narrator who leads the projection act]. And then comes the third stage, that of knowledge. The active role of knowledge is expressed not only in the active leap from sensory to rational knowledge, but, and what is even more important, in the leap from rational knowledge to revolutionary practice . . . The practice of the transformation of the world ... This, in general terms, is the dialectical materialist theory of the unity of knowledge and action(17)" [in the projection of the film act, the participation of the comrades, the action proposals that arise, and the actions themselves that will take place later].

Moreover, each projection of a film act presupposes a different setting, since the space where it takes place, the materials that go to make it up (actors-participants), and the historic time in which it takes place are never the same. This means that the result of each projection act will depend on those who organise it, on those who participate in it, and on the time and place; the possibility of introducing variations, additions, and changes is unlimited. The screening of a film act will always express in one way or another the historical situation in which it takes place; its perspectives are not exhausted in the struggle for power but will instead continue after the taking of power to strengthen the revolution.
The man of the third cinema, be it guerrilla cinema or a film act, with the infinite categories that they contain (film letter, film poem, film essay, film pamphlet, film report, etc.), above all counters the film industry of a cinema of characters with one of themes, that of individuals with that of masses, that of the author with that of the operative group, one of neocolonial misinformation with one of information, one of escape with one that recaptures the truth, that of passivity with that of aggressions. To an institutionalised cinema, it counterposes a guerrilla cinema; to movies as shows, it opposes a film act or action; to a cinema of destruction, one that is both destructive and constructive; to a cinema made for the old kind of human being, for them, it opposes a cinema fit for a new kind of human being,for what each one of us has the possibility of becoming.

The decolonisation of the film-maker and of films will be simultaneous acts to the extent that each contributes to collective decolonisation. The battle begins without, against the enemy who attacks us, but also within, against the ideas and models of the enemy to be found inside each one of us. Destruction and construction. Decolonising action rescues with its practice the purest and most vital impulses. It opposes to the colonialisation of minds the revolution of consciousness. The world is scrutinised, unravelled, rediscovered. People are witness to a constant astonishment, a kind of second birth. They recover their early simplicity, their capacity for adventure; their lethargic capacity for indignation comes to life.

Freeing a forbidden truth means setting free the possibility of indignation and subversion. Our truth, that of the new man who builds himself by getting rid of all the defects that still weigh him down, is a bomb of inexhaustible power and, at the same time, the only real possibility of life. Within this attempt, the revolutionary film-maker ventures with his subversive observation, sensibility, imagination, and realisation. The great themes - the history of the country, love and unlove between combatants, the efforts of a people who are awakening - all this is reborn before the lens of the decolonised camera. The film-maker feels for the first time. He discovers that, within the System, nothing fits, while outside of and against the System, everything fits, because everything remains to be done. What appeared yesterday as a preposterous adventure, as we said at the beginning, is posed today as an inescapable need and possibility.

Thus far, we have offered ideas and working propositions, which are the sketch of a hypothesis arising from our personal experience and which will have achieved something positive even if they do no more than serve to open a heated dialogue on the new revolutionary film prospects. The vacuums existing in the artistic and scientific fronts of the revolution are sufficiently well known so that the adversary will not try to appropriate them, while we are still unable to do so.

Why films and not some other form of artistic communication? If we choose films as the centre of our propositions and debate, it is because that is our work front and because the birth of a third cinema means, at least for us, the most important revolutionary artistic event of our times.

(translation from Cineaste revised by Julianne Burton and Editor)

(1) The Hour of the Furnaces 'Neocolonialism and Violence'
(2) Juan Jose Hernandez Arregui, Imperialism and Culture
(3) Rene Zavaleta Mercado, Bolivia: Growth of the National Concept f
(4) The Hour of the Furnaces, ibid.
(5) ibid
(6) Observe the new custom of some groups of the upper bourgeoisie from Rome and Paris who spend their weekends travelling to Saigon to get a close-up view of the Vietcong offensive.
(7) Irwin Silber, 'USA: The Alienation of Culture,' Tricontinental 10.
(8) The organisation Vanguard Artists of Argentina.
(9) The Hour of the Furnaces, ibid.
(10) Mao Tse-tung, On Practice
(11) Rodolfo Puigross, The Proletariat and National Revolution
(12) Mao Tng, op. Cit.
(13) Che Guevara, Guerrilla Warfare
(14) The raiding of a Buenos Aires union and the arrest of dozens of persons resulting from a bad choice of projection site and the large number of people invited.
(15) The Organisation for the Solidarity of African, Asian and Latin American Peoples, based in Cuba.
(16) A traditional Argentine HERB tea, hierba mate.
(17) Mao Tse-tung, op. cit.

Saturday, 27 December 2014


"Egypt, Hezbollah conclude years of estrangement” 

December 19, 2014

With every passing day, the controversial issues between Egypt and Hezbollah are shrinking. The iceberg reached a pinnacle on January 28, 2011 when Sami Shehab escaped the Egyptian prisons. But all that happened afterwards served to thaw the ice. Today, there is no longer an iceberg but rather a lake with some pieces of ice in it… Now that the relationship between the party and Egypt has progressed, one can pinpoint five Egyptian priorities that represent common traits with Hezbollah:

- Preserving Lebanon’s security and supporting its army

- Confronting takfirism and terrorism in the two countries and the region

- Promoting moderation in the Sunni environment and confronting extremism…

- Stressing on the importance of the Palestinian cause…

- The need to preserve the unity of the Syrian state, its institutions and its army and stressing on the need for a political solution there and a confrontation of the takfiri organizations.

Although the improvement of the Egyptian-Hezbollah relationship cannot be separated from the improvement seen by the relationship with Iran, the party managed to sketch the lines of a stable relationship with the Egyptian party, which ultimately serves the Egyptian-Iranian relationship despite the inability of the Egyptians to break free from the Saudi considerations especially the economic considerations that protect the Egyptian economy…

The controversial issues and the mutual observations are not nothing. However, the interests of the two parties call for pushing these matters away. The Egyptian-Saudi relationship is stirring Iran’s as well as Hezbollah’s sensitivities. Although the party does understand the Egyptian financial crisis - knowing that Saudi Arabia was among the very first countries that acknowledge the new [Egyptian regime], which was then suffering from an international seclusion – the party is advising all the Egyptians that it is coming in contact with to decrease the intensity of this relationship, which some circles view as a relationship of dependence.

But for the Egyptians, this relationship does not exceed the borders of gratitude to Saudi Arabia for its pro-Egypt positions. In Cairo, some sides keep reiterating that the Egyptian strategic view of the Syrian war is not in line with the Saudi position. These sides cite the meeting of the Arab League in September 2013 where a number of countries pushed for carrying out strikes against Syria under the pretext of Syria’s use of chemical weapons. However, Foreign Minister, Nabil Fahmy, was adamant in rejecting any strikes against any Arab State. This practically led to the Arab League’s merely stressing on the need for any action to be implemented in the context of international legitimacy thus referring this matter to the Security Council.

Friday, 26 December 2014


People's Daily

Locals joined by admirers from across the country mark the 121st birth anniversary of Mao Zedong in a square in Shaoshan, Central China’s Hunan province, December 26.

More than 100,000 people got together to remember the former leader in his hometown.


People's Daily

College students wearing traditional Chinese clothing join a campaign to boycott Christmas celebrations on a street in Changsha, Central China’s Hunan province on December 24.

With slogans saying “Boycott Christmas-Chinese don’t celebrate foreign festivals” in hands, these students call on people to focus on Chinese traditional festivals and celebrate festivals in a rational way.


however meanwhile:

Traffic policemen who dressed up as Santa Clauses send gifts to children in Kunming, southwest China’s Yunnan province, December 25.



Thursday, 25 December 2014


Harvesting of Pepper in Coilum in southern India 14 Century painting

Sugar & Spice and all things Crazy Crackers

european colonialism when in its genesis formation conducted genocide and slavery never seen before in its exceptional conceptual and quantitative nature to access and rape land, women, girls, men and boys of the developing or actual colonies, the previous four of which were categorised as non-humans/chattel, one of the unique contributions of the 'west' to the world. colonialism also accessed greater and greater sugar and spices from Africa, the Americas and Asia through colonial terror and looting.

The interesting thing is that our (esp Asian/Indian) spices never made it in general into the main savoury dishes of europeans, but only into their sauces and desserts, examples: worcestershire and ketchup sauces, christmas and 'mince' pies and chutneys (chutney's being an Indian thing anyway which they nicked). However, the ironic thing is that colonialism conducted slavery and genocide to access these spices for a growing european palate and to make massive superprofits, but they didnt add these spices into their main dishes, and then when large numbers of Black and Asian people entered into england post 2nd WW white racists complained esp in regards to South Asians that 'they stank of Indian food', but then this 'stinky Indian food' in a few decades became the white peoples favourite food of choice!

I suppose seeing its xmas, the apt term to call these kinda peoples are CRAZY CRACKERS! Anyway, I'm off to have some classic Indian xmas dinner of Dal, Paneer Bhuji, Roti and Nihari!

- Sukant Chandan, Sons of Malcolm


Tensions between Mass Organising and Militant Resistance

This online debate took place from Nov 24th-27th 2014

Sukant Chandan: I hear a lot of talk from people I really have a lot of revolutionary love and respect for talking up militant (armed) response of our peoples to the likely white wash verdict on young brother Mike Brown's killing. My question is not disputing that response on an ethical level as such, but on a strategical and wisdom level: are our forces ready to take up militant self defence measures after the verdict? Or is it a case of 'we have to do what we have to do' for justice, or to raise a new level of struggle generally?

My feelings is that the mass movement of our peoples has to be built as primary strategy, but at the end of the day, what will happen will happen, and my one's revolutionary ethics informs us that we support our peoples and 'unite the many against the few' oppressors no matter what. But wanted to open this up for possible discussion.

I am reminded in this regard of this following profound piece by Huey Newton.

"The Black masses are handling the resistance incorrectly. When the brothers in East Oakland, having learned their resistance fighting from Watts, amassed the people in the streets, threw bricks and Molotov cocktails to destroy property and create disruption, they were herded into a small area by the Gestapo police and immediately contained by the brutal violence of the oppressor’s storm troops. Although this manner of resistance is sporadic, short-lived, and costly, it has been transmitted across the country to all the ghettos of the Black nation.

The identity of the first man who threw a Molotov cocktail is not known by the masses, yet they respect and imitate his action. In the same way, the actions of the party will be imitated by the people – if the people respect these activities.

The primary job of the party is to provide leadership for the people. It must teach by words and action the correct strategic methods of prolonged resistance. When the people learn that it is no longer advantageous for them to resist by going into the streets in large numbers, and when they see the advantage in the activities of the guerilla warfare method, they will quickly follow this example.
But first, they must respect the party which is transmitting this message. When the vanguard group destroys the machinery of the oppressor by dealing with him in small groups of three and four, and then escapes the might of the oppressor, the masses will be impressed and more likely to adhere to this correct strategy. When the masses hear that a Gestapo policeman has been executed while sipping coffee at a counter, and the revolutionary executioners fled without being traced, the masses will see the validity of this kind of resistance. It is not necessary to organize thirty million Black people in primary groups of two’s and three’s, but it is important for the party to show the people how to stage a revolution. [...] "

Lorenzo Kom'boa Ervin: If there is not a revolutionary movement in this period to provide that example, then you will see more spontaneous revolts. Also, the reign of terror that we experience today began after the destruction of the BPP. Of course, you do realize that Huey turned against this method of conspiratorial combat in favor of the mass line? He felt like the Party should not become a secret society in singular combat with the police, and if it did so, the people could not get access to its programs or leadership. Further, if there is no mass base for guerrillas, our forces would be isolated and wiped out.

Sukant Chandan: thanks for the contribution. Yes, I know about Huey moving towards the mass line, the BLA and some of the complexities and challenges of all that (gross understatement, I know). Of course, the mass line is not in contra-distinction to organised guerilla type struggle/peoples war.

Yes, the spontaneous para-military actions of the Black masses will continue, but perhaps there is some underground covert work going on, but there I see little guidance given as to what the strategy and tactics are from here to develop the struggle onto higher ground.

People are also paralleling this to the late 1960s, which I think does not hold water if we consider the much more mass character and militancy of that period which was in direct inspiration and connection from the worldwide revolution (Vietnam, Mozambique, China, South Africa, etc).

Lorenzo Kom'boa Ervin: All a matter of the proper steps. No guerilla insurgency can be successful or survive without the people in arms. Remember, it is people's army, people's war that has as chance to succeed, not an isolated underground in an empire. the empire itself is in crisis, a different and deeper crisis now, which is why we are see paramilitary policing, they are changing the form of state entirely. We need liberated zones, like Comrade George and other revolutionaries have told us.

Sukant Chandan: Yes, "Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun", and again fro Mao (apologies, I am no orthodox Maoist as such, but the guy did have these concepts and strategy down more than most): "The revolutionary war is a war of the masses; only mobilizing the masses and relying on them can wage it. "

although its much less proliferated here in the 'UK', its not a problem to have access to arms, but how to use it politically and organisationally etc.

You'll know about the Uprising of the Black and Brown Poor in Aug 2011 here in england following the police killing of Mark Duggan. The problem there if we are to develop liberated areas, was a near total absence of political guidance, organisation, wisdom etc, and the net result of that moment was thousands in prison and next to no political positive outcome for our communities, quite the opposite.

Yes you are right, the crisis is deeper, but I see imho the political situation much more wanting and lower than it was in the 1960s. My feeling is that we are not on the cusp of some great upsurge, but on the cusp of intensifying general messier situations. True, the peoples struggle has always been messy, but we are in a growing mess without paddles and a compass. I hope I am proved wrong.

The priority it seems to me is building a new clear revolutionary analysis as to the continuations of the global struggle against nato and neo-colonialism and coloniality, and also building the necessary cadres for transferring to higher forms of peoples struggles and organisations.

But of course, I defer to the veterans like yourself as to these issues.


"Symbolic devaluing of women in relation to the divine becomes one of the founding metaphors of Western civilization [I would argue of coloniality/neo-colonialism/imperialism etc - Sukant]. The other founding metaphor is supplied by Aristotelian philosophy, which assumes as a given that women are incomplete and damaged human beings of an entirely different order than men. It is built into the very foundations of the symbol systems of Western civilisation, that the subordination of women comes to be seen as "natural", hence it becomes invisible. It is this which finally establishes patriarchy as an actuality and as an ideology." 

- The Creation of Patriarchy, Gerder Lerner, 1986, p10

Wednesday, 24 December 2014


Some obvious wise words here, and more so considering he is someone who has seen his movement (PKK) and people battered from the fallout from and in Iraq of previous decades and generations. Perhaps the ‪PKK‬ could also apply the same wisdom and vision for Syria which is facing the same and has in many ways a better attitude towards the Kurds and the PKK, not least having protecting them in the period of their genesis and launch and highest point of activity from circa 1980-1999. - Sukant Chandan, Sons of Malcolm

Exclusive: Senior Kurdish rebel leader warns Iraq must stay united to defeat 'savage' Isis

Cemil Bayik, co-founder of the PKK, hopes cooperation with US-led coalition against Isis would result in group being de-listed as a terrorist organization


Iraq must remain a united country in order to defeat the jihadis of the Islamic State, a senior leader of the rebel Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) has insisted.

Cemil Bayik, co-founder of the PKK and field commander of the organisation warned that it would be “very dangerous” if Iraq were partitioned. Unless Iraq’s Shia, Sunni and Kurdish communities worked together to counter the threat of Isis, the “fascist” group would benefit, he told the Guardian in an exclusive interview.

“If it (Iraq) is divided, the war will intensify and the threat of Da’esh (Isis) to smaller communities will become greater,” said Bayik, speaking in the group’s Qandil mountain stronghold in northern Iraq. “But if they stay united against Da’esh, they can sort out their differences at a later stage through dialogue.”

Bayik also made clear that the PKK hoped that its cooperation with the US-led international coalition fighting Isis would lead to it being de-listed as a terrorist organization by western countries.

The PKK took up arms in 1984 with the aim of carving out a separate state for Turkey’s 20 million Kurds, but it has since changed its objective to the devolution of power within national borders and is now seeking peace with Ankara.

The group’s imprisoned leader Abdullah Ocalan – known to Kurds as Apo – called a ceasefire from his Turkish prison last year, ordering PKK guerrillas to withdraw to the Qandil Mountains.

The fate of the peace process is still uncertain, but the PKK has found a new calling in Iraq after coming to the aid of Kurdish peshmerga fighters and the Yazidi community this summer when Isis militants overpowered them in the north.

Peshmerga and PKK guerrillas are now fighting side by side against Isis along a frontline from Syria to eastern Iraq.

Three freshly dug graves in a cemetery in the Qandil mountains are testimony to the latest casualties of this struggle, which has earned the PKK and its sister group in Syria an unprecedented degree of legitimacy from the international community.

The PKK has reaped benefits since the popular uprising against Bashar al-Assad turned to civil war in 2011. Syrian commanders within the PKK – who honed their skills fighting the Turkish army – returned home to train a new force called People’s Protection Units, known by its Kurdish acronym YPG, the armed wing of the Democratic Union Party (PYD), the main Kurdish party in Syria.

“The international coalition’s dealings with the PKK have been conducted through intermediaries and have remained secret,” Bayik revealed. “Diplomatic and military relations should be improved between the coalition and the Kurds in Syria and Iraq to get better results against Da’esh.”

Bayik said the terrorist label was a “great injustice” and that the PKK’s struggle against the “savagery” of Isis proved it was undeserved: “They listed us as a terrorist organisation but our actions against Da’esh proved the opposite,” he said.

Bayik, who wears a pin on his khaki uniform with Ocalan’s face on it, revealed that his fighters have captured Isis foreign fighters on the battlefield and handed over some of them to their respective countries. Bayik said one was a German national detained in Iraqi Kurdistan.

Relations with the Turkish government are still hostile, with Bayik accusing President Recep Tayyip Erdogan of supporting Isis in Syria to destroy the Kurds’ nascent administration. “Turkey wants to destroy the Kurdish cantons or keep them in perpetual fighting to weaken the Kurds … because if you have viable Kurdish administrations in Iraq and Syria, then the Kurds in Turkey will want their own administration too,” he said.

Bayik said that just as the Isis leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi dreamt of becoming the Caliph of all Muslims, Erdogan harbored fantasies of being the head of a revived Ottoman Empire ruling over the Sunnis of the Middle East.

Earlier this month Erdogan surprised many in Turkey by announcing that compulsory classes in Ottoman Turkish (written in Arabic rather than Roman script) will be introduced into the national curriculum – whereas the Kurdish language has not become part of the national curriculum.

The PKK peace process with Turkey has reached a stalemate because Erdogan is not serious about peace, Bayik charged. The president’s real intention was to buy more time so that his Justice and Development party (AKP) could win more votes in elections, consolidate power and change the constitution. “We as the PKK have taken all the steps to move the peace process forward but they haven’t reciprocated,” he said. If Erdogan were serious about peace, he would have released hundreds of political prisoners who are ill or dying in Turkish jails, he added.

Last month Ocalan issued a letter described by Bayik as “a road map” to advance negotiations. The veteran commander said that the PKK leadership has accepted this and are now waiting for Ankara to respond.

“Whatever could be solved through dialogue is already done,” he said. “Now it is time for negotiations and for that, the imprisonment conditions of Apo [Ocalan] should be changed. Until those change, no negotiation is possible”.


Interesting report here from the zionist press, but the important parts are cited from reliable sources. If these reports are true, it shows further how complex and messy has been Hamas' machinations in relation to the Arab Sting. President Assad reports that Hamas leader Khaled Meshaal actually asked the Syrian government to crackdown harder on the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood (Hamas is the Muslim Brotherhood branch in Palestine) "with full force because it represents an international conspiracy against Syria", President Assad is reported to have said about that conversation.

Whatever the case, Hamas left their long time and reliable protectors, supporters and patrons in the Syrian government and instead sought protection under the wings of the pro-nato Qatari monarchy which has been devastating the region these past four years.

Reports are that Hamas are trying to re-ingratiate themselves to the 'Resistance Axis' in the region, being Iran-Syria-Lebanese Hizbullah, and I would guess that such a rapprochement would be most easiest with the Iranians considering how the Iranians are rather soft ideologically and geo-politically with the in general pro-nato Muslim Brotherhood branches across the region, but for the time being the MB branches are more concerned about strategic alliances with the 'west' than with Iran, although they would and are in some cases happy to have some Iranian patronage for oppurtunistic reasons.

Hamas are an integral part of the Palestinian Revolution, and while they make mistakes in relation to the Palestinian cause and regional and global causes, they are by dint of being being deeply entrenched in the Palestinian Revolution for the time being, are still part of the de facto global alliance of GlobalSouth anti neo-colonial forces. However, one would still prefer Hamas to do away with their historical and present dalliances with the enemies of the region while there still is a region to talk of even in its battered and smouldering state.

- Sukant Chandan, Sons of Malcolm

Hamas chief rebuffs Assad accusation of siding with his opponents

Moussa Abu Marzouk said it pained the Hamas leadership to leave Syria 3 years ago, but it ‘morally’ had to do so


Hamas official has criticized Syrian President Bashar Assad for “wronging” his organization by accusing it of siding with the Syrian opposition before the departure of its political leadership from Damascus in January 2012.

In an unusually public confrontation with his former political patron, Hamas deputy political chief Moussa Abu Marzouk said his movement knew that it stood to lose a great deal from its “moral and political” decision to leave Damascus in the early days of the Syrian uprising.

“Our self-respect and adherence to movement policies forced us to take this decision and remove ourselves from Syria’s domestic affairs,” Abu Marzouk wrote on his Facebook page Sunday. “We never issued a statement attacking or condemning the Syrian regime.”

During a meeting with Palestinian leaders living in Europe last week, Assad elaborated on the circumstances that led Hamas’s political bureau chief Khaled Mashaal to leave the country. Mashaal, Assad said, had offered to mediate between the Assad regime and Syria’s Muslim Brotherhood even before the Arab Spring began.

“I told Mashaal: ‘You’re a Palestinian and a fighter and I ask you not to intervene in the internal matters of any Arab country. Our problem with the Muslim Brotherhood is an internal Syrian matter which you should stay out of,'” Assad was quoted by Palestinian news website Donia Al-Watan as saying.

When popular unrest began to simmer in Syria in the early months of 2011, Assad said he met with a Hamas delegation headed by Mashaal who was “more extreme than me” about the need to eradicate local dissent .

“He demanded that we oppress and liquidate this movement with full force because it represents an international conspiracy against Syria,” Assad recalled. “Mashaal said that we should have no mercy on them, because they are collaborators with America and Israel.”

But as the uprising developed, the Assad regime began noticing Hamas participation on the opposition side, defying a decade-long Palestinian tradition of non-involvement in Syrian politics. At one point, Mashaal’s daughter and son-in-law were arrested by Syrian forces transporting weapons, Assad noted.

“They took advantage of the immunity given to [Hamas] movement leaders, so we arrested them and later released them,” he said. “The great misfortune was that Hamas tried to fool the Syrian state. Under the guise of cooperation and care for Syria, it submitted misleading SECURITY reports.”

Claiming it was actually the Muslim Brotherhood which approached Mashaal and not the other way around, Abu Marzouk nevertheless admitted that Mashaal was critical of the Muslim Brotherhood’s conduct during the early days of the Syrian uprising.

“In his assessment of that period, Abu-Walid (Mashaal) had blamed the Syrian Muslim Brotherhood for not complying with the regime and confronting it,” Abu Marzouk said. He also denied subversive acts on Hamas’s part, claiming that “the movement removed anyone proven to have acted in any way against the regime.”

“What pained Abu-Walid most when leaving Syria was the warm relations with President Bashar Assad and the favor Hamas found with President Bashar Assad, which it will never forget,” Abu Marzouk wrote. “The movement never ceased to praise or thank Syria for that, but the extent of injustice represented in the president’s comments was too large to remain silent about.”