<nettime> From the Multitudes of Europe Rising Up Against the Empire

["Enrica Pozzali Piersanti" <epozzpier@hotmail.com>]

>From the Multitudes of Europe, Rising Up Against the Empire
and Marching on Genoa (19-20 July 2001)


We are new, and yet we are the same as always.
We are ancient to the future, an army of disobedience. For centuries we have 
marched, armed with stories as weapons, "dignity" emblazoned across our 
ensigns.
In the name of dignity we fight those who play the lords and masters of 
people and meadows, forests and waters. Those who rule arbitrarily, impose 
the order of the Empire and impoverish the communities.

We are the peasants of the _Jacquerie_. Our villages were plundered by the 
mercenaries of the Hundred Years War and the nobles made us starve. In the 
Year of Our Lord 1358 we took up arms, destroyed their castles and took the 
ill-gotten back. Some of us were captured and decapitated, blood flowed from 
our noses, but we were on the march and we would not stop again.

We are the _ciompi_ of Florence, the workers of factories and the minor 
arts. In the Year of Our Lord 1378 a carder led us to rebellion. We took 
over the city council and reformed the statute of arts and professions. The 
lords escaped to the countryside and organized the siege of the town. After 
two years they defeated us and restored the oligarchy, but nothing could 
stop the contagious spirit of our example.

We are the peasants of England who battled against the nobles to get rid of 
tolls and excises. In the Year of Our Lord 1381 we heard the preaching of 
John Ball: "When Adam dalf and Eve span / Who was then a gentilman?". We set 
off from Essex and Kent with pruning hooks and pitchforks. We occupied 
London and set buildings on fire. We sacked the palace of the Arch-bishop 
and opened the doors of jails. By the King's appointment many of us went to 
the gallows, but things had been changed forever.

We are the _Hussites_. We are the _Taborites_. We are the Bohemian labourers 
and craftsmen who rebelled against the Pope, the King and the Emperor after 
Ian Hus was burnt at the stake. In the Year of Our Lord 1419 we assaulted 
the town hall of Prague and threw the burgomaster and the councillors out 
the window. King Wenceslaus died of a heartache. The powerful of Europe 
waged war on us, and so we called the Czech people to arms. We drove back 
all invasions, counterattacked and entered Austria, Hungary, Brandenburg, 
Saxony, Franconia and the Palatine. The heart of a continent was in our 
hands. We abolished servitude and the tithes. We were defeated after thirty 
years of war and crusades.

We are the thirty-four thousand men that answered the call of Hans the 
Piper. In the Year of Our Lord 1476 the Madonna of Niklashausen appeared to 
Hans and said:
"There shall be neither kings nor princes, neither papacy nor priesthood, 
neither taxes nor tithes. Meadows, forests and waters shall belong to all 
people. Every one shall be a brother to each other, possessing no more than 
his neighbour".
We arrived on the day of St. Margaret, a candle in one hand and a spear in 
the other. The Holy Virgin would tell us what to do. The knights of the 
Bishop captured Hans, then they attacked and defeated us. Hans burned at the 
stake, but the words of the Virgin did not.

We are the String Shoe, the labourers and peasants of Alsace. In the Year of 
Our Lord 1493 we conspired to kill the usurers and cancel all debts, 
confiscate the treasuries of the monasteries, reduce the priests' incomes, 
abolish oral confession and establish local courts elected by the 
communities. On Easter Sunday we attacked the stronghold of Schlettstadt. We 
were defeated. Many of us were arrested and put on the rack, to be quartered 
or decapitated. Many were crippled by having their hands and fingers chopped 
off, and were driven out of the country. Yet those who kept marching spread 
the String Shoe throughout Germany. After years of repression and 
re-organization, the String Shoe rose up in Freiburg in the Year of Our Lord 
1513. The March
went on, and the String Shoe has never stopped.

We are Poor Konrad, the peasants of Suabia that rebelled against the taxes 
on wine, meat and bread, in the Year of Our Lord 1514. We were five thousand 
and threatened to conquer Schorndorf, in the valley of Rems. Duke Ulrich 
promised he would abolish the new taxes and examine the peasants' 
complaints. He was only seeking to keep us quiet and gain time. The revolt 
spread all over Suabia. Our delegates were admitted to the diet in 
Stuttgart. It was decided to depose and punish three of the hated 
councillors of the Duke, to add to the Duke a council of four knights, four 
burghers and four peasants, and to confiscate the monasteries and the 
endowments in favour of the State treasury. Ulrich convened another diet in 
Tuebingen, and his neighbours helped him  gather troops. It was not easy to 
take the valley of Rems by force: Ulrich besieged and starved Poor Konrad on 
the mountain of Koppel, then he plundered the villages. Sixteen hundred 
peasants were captured, sixteen of them decapitated, and the rest received 
heavy fines. And yet Poor Konrad still revolts.

We are the peasants of Hungary that rallyed for the crusade against the 
Turk, and decided to wage war on the nobles instead, in the Year of Our Lord 
1514. Sixty thousand armed men, at the orders of commander Dozsa, spread the 
insurrection all across the country. The army of the nobles surrounded us at 
Czanad, where a "Republic of Equals" had been founded. They captured us 
after a two months' siege. Dozsa was roasted on a red-hot throne, his 
lieutenants were forced to eat his flesh. Thousands of peasants were impaled 
or hanged. The massacre and the impious Eucharist led the March astray, but 
could not stop it.

We are the army of peasants and miners that followed Thomas Muentzer. In the 
Year of the Lord 1524 we shouted: All things are common! and declared war 
upon the world order. Our Twelve Articles shook the powerful of Europe. We 
conquered towns and won the hearts of the people. The Lansquenets 
exterminated us in Thuringia, Muentzer was torn to pieces by the headsmen, 
and yet nobody could deny it: all that belonged to the earth, to the earth 
would return.

We are the "Diggers": a community of unemployed labourers and landless 
peasants. In the Year of Our Lord 1649 we gathered in Walton-on-Thames, 
Surrey, occupied the common land and started to dig it up. We wanted to live 
together and share the fruits of the earth. The lords of the manor aroused 
the populace, we were seized and locked up by an angry mob. Countrymen and 
soldiers assailed us and trampled our crops. When we cut the woods on the 
common, the landlords sued for damages and trespass. We moved to Cobham 
Manor, built four houses and started a crop of winter grain. Troops attacked 
us, destroyed the houses and again trampled the fields. We persisted. Other 
diggers started crops in Kent and Northamptonshire. A mob drove them out. 
The law defeated us and we set out again.

We are the serfs, miners, fugitives and deserters that joined Pugachev's 
Cossacks to overthrow the autocracy of Russia and abolish servitude. In the 
Year of Our Lord 1774 we conquered strongholds, confiscated riches and moved 
to Moscow. Pugachev was captured, but the seed was going to bear fruit.

We are the army of General Ludd. Our fathers were cleared off their lands 
and we became weavers.  Then came that weaving machine. In the Year of Our 
Lord 1811 we ran across the countryside of England, stormed factories, 
destroyed machines and laughed in the face of constables. The government 
sent thousands of soldiers and armed civilians. A disgraceful law 
established that machines were more important than human beings, and those 
who destroyed machines had to be hanged. Lord Byron warned:
"Is there not blood enough upon your penal code, that more must be poured 
forth to ascend to Heaven, and testify against you? How will you carry the 
bill into effect? Can you commit a whole country to their own prisons? Will 
you erect a gibbet in every field and hang up men like scarecrows? Or will 
you proceed (as you must to bring this measure into effect) by decimation? . 
. . Are these the remedies for a starving and desperate populace?"
The rebellion broke out, but we were tired and underfed. Those who escaped 
the slip-knot were deported to Australia. And yet General Ludd still rides 
at the edge of the fields, in the dead of night, rallying his troops.

We are the workers of Cambridgeshire under the orders of Captain Swing. In 
the Year of Our Lord 1830 we rose up against despotic laws. We set barns on 
fire, destroyed machines, threatened landlords, assaulted police stations 
and executed narks. We were sent to the gallows, but the call of Captain 
Swing would gather a bigger army. Their advance would raise a dust that 
soiled all coppers' coats and judges' gowns. The assault on the sky would 
last 150 years.

We are the weavers of Silesia who rebelled in the year 1844. We are the 
fabric printers that set fire to Bohemia in the same year. We are the 
proletarian insurgents of the Year of Grace 1848. We are the spectres that 
tormented popes, tzars, bosses and footmen. We are the populace of Paris in 
the Year of Grace 1871.
We have gone through the century of revenge and madness, and we keep on 
marching.

_They_ say that they are new, they christen themselves by acronyms: G8, IMF, 
WB, WTO, NAFTA, FTAA� They cannot fool us, they are the same as those who 
have come before them: the �corcheurs that plundered our villages, the 
oligarchs that re-conquered Florence, the court of Emperor Sigismund that 
beguiled Ian Hus, the diet of Tuebingen that obeyed Ulrich and refused to 
admit Poor Konrad, the princes that sent the lansquenets to Frankenhausen, 
the impious that roasted Dozsa, the landlords that tormented the Diggers, 
the autocrats that defeated Pugachev, the government whom Byron cursed, the 
old world that stopped our assaults and destroyed all stairways to heaven.

Nowadays they have a new empire, they impose new servitudes on the whole 
globe, they still play the lords and masters of the land and the sea.

Once again, we the multitudes rise up against them.

Genoa.
Italian peninsula.
19, 20 and 21 of July
in a Year that no longer belongs to any Lord.
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