The Squatter’s Movement (part 1)

Berlin, so far, has been good to us.

We have managed to connect with a newly formed media collective, and will be helping groups at the convergence center in Rostock and at the camp in Reddilich connect with the international media that will be present. It gives us a chance to plug in with some folks who have been working on the G8 counter-summit for quite some time, and make new friends.

Kreuzberg is a busy district, but in a different sense of the word than I am used to. It is busyness of connection — amazing how people here flood the sidewalks, cafes, doorsteps and falafel shops on a warm Sunday afternoon, sharing their lives together — a liberating contradiction after the bleak study of human loss and that enveloped us for so long in New Orleans. There is something about smiling faces and people walking or sitting together — a sharing of good time that warms me just to be around.

I am remembering the war-zone of New Orleans, and the subtle yet tangible fear in the streets there. Comparatively there is an abundance of social wealth in Kreuzberg and isolation appears at least to the visitor to be the exception, not the norm. I have been contemplating the meaning of the word ˜peace,” and what is that makes a society ˜peaceful.”

Soon, however, we will have to hit the road again and make our way closer to the fence.

…

While I have time, I would like to share some thoughts about the squatter’s movement that we have been exposed to here in Berlin. It is closely connected to the G8 resistance and something that has always caught my attention. I believe that it raises some importance questions about our times. This letter comes in two parts; I will be posting the rest of it soon.

"info point", bethanien squat, berlin

It is said that one billion people worldwide live in squatted properties (that’s one out of every seven people) and although squatting is usually a result of poverty in the underdeveloped world, comparatively wealthy nations in Europe have strong squatter movements of their own.

The taking of unused land rather than buying it can be a political act, exposing the contradiction in private ownership and extreme wealth to people’s right to a home. Here in Europe, the squatter’s movement has historically been the front line in a struggle against the continuing privatization of public spaces and services, i.e. “the commons.”

The place where we are staying in Berlin was an abandoned property that was occupied in the 1980s to create an educational farm. The goal was to establish a community space, so that children in the area could spend time with the ducks, pigs, horses and other animals. Families filter through constantly and have barbeques and picnics.

But such autonomous spaces here are always a little on the edge. Even though the Kinderbauernhof has been here for over 20 years, there is always some chance of eviction. Those who live here realize this possibility, and acknowledge that part of their job as residents is to hold the space open for the broader community, more or less as stewards of the commons.

Although very few places like this exist in the US, this scene is not altogether foreign to me. I had stayed here once before, in the summer of 2002, with a similar focus. As a student at Seattle Central Community College, I had been asked by the National Student Union of Germany to participate in a speaking tour of the country, due to our work at the time in Seattle fighting statewide tuition increases.

With students from several other countries I traveled to almost every major University in Germany, living in places like this and giving presentations for German student groups. The focus of the tour was privatization, and we talked about the many ways that higher education systems were slowly being turned over to corporate control in our various home countries. I was 18, and the trip had a great influence on me, sparking my imagination.

At the time I was surprised by what I saw. Squats here are not just a place to live for those who have nowhere else to go as we think of them in the US. More often than not, they are there to provide for their neighborhoods, offering public space and free services.

neighborhood residents, kinderbauernhof squat, berlin

Of course not all the squats we visited were public, but there was a strong collective spirit throughout all those that I saw. Like New Orleans, radicals in Europe have made an important leap – community organizing through real social services. In cities like Barcelona, London or Amsterdam, nearly every neighborhood has squats in one form or another. They are community kitchens, meeting places, bookstores, art studios, bathhouses, theaters, farms, bar/cafes and many other things.

As a student organizer, I always had an elusive question dogging the back of my mind. Rather than just making noise, how do we proactively create the world we want to live in? I knew that the squats symbolized some part of the answer, but until I had been to New Orleans, where there was little else holding the social fabric together, I didn’t fully understand the potential for community run services.

Today we walked to the Bethanien, a nearby squat that is serving as an “info-point” where G8 resistors can find information about the summit and the activities surrounding it. One wing of a huge historical building that is surrounded by park on three sides, it was more recently occupied a year ago when the city declared intent to demolish the building. About 40 people live there — they share space with a pre-school, provide cheap meals, and both times we have visited we have seen meetings and community events happening the rooms. There is a sign on the front door which says “G8 info upstairs — no photos or videos allowed inside.” Typical of the security culture surrounding the summit. It is no secret that the police sent informants here regularly to monitor meetings about G8 activities, over the past few months. Inside, I added a post on the big calendar about the presentation we will do tonight on solidarity work in New Orleans.

Unfortunately, as someone explained to me recently, Berlin itself has few real squats left, they have been evicted or degraded through time. Still, many of the places that remain from the 80’s have simply moved into collective ownership, and their autonomous status preserved. Yesterday we bathed and did laundry in a public bathhouse with a similar story. An old man showed us how to clean the tubs and use the washing machine, and people slowly filtered through the shower room. Outside the courtyard was full of naturopathy students who attended a school upstairs — a result of the same squatter’s occupation, years ago. Now the building is owned collectively, but the services still free, and the hot water a blessing.

“When you lose the commons, you lose connection to where you live,” I thought to myself as Nick and I sank further into the water of our respective tubs. “This is a real place.”

From Berlin,

Logan Price

ad-hoc flea market, kinderbauernhof commons, berlin

NOTE: Public squats are often reffered to as “social centres.” For more extensive background there is a very good Wikipedia article on them here