Freedom From...Systematic Intimidation

Freedom From...

FEAR, POLICE BRUTALITY, AND INJUSTICE

Built on Oppression.

Maintained by Injustice.

Say Their Names.

The Legacy of Slave Patrols Lives On. #4

Contents The Common Enemy and the Myth of the Good Cop

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A Hollow Promise to Preserve an Unjust System

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The Police Started It

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300 Years of Violence

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Systematic Intimidation

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say their names

A Revolution Against Oppression and Lies

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A Monument to Injustice and Oppression

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Brown Coats to Black Body Bags

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THEMOCKINGBIRDMOVEMENT.COM

POLICE BRUTALITY: THE COMMON ENEMY AND THE MYTH OF THE GOOD COP

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n the United States, police brutality is an undeniable plague that targets marginalized communities, leaving a trail of broken bodies and shattered families. But it’s not just one group that suffers under this brutal system—it’s everyone, from African Americans to Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, white Americans, and even the poor, regardless of race. When you peel back the layers, you’ll see that the oppressor is not only the institution of policing, but also the system that protects and allows it to thrive. And here’s the hard truth: there is no such thing as a good cop —not in a system designed to uphold oppression.

The African American Perspective Let’s begin with African Americans, whose relationship with law enforcement has been one of trauma and violence for centuries. From the days of slavery, where patrols were created to capture runaway slaves, to the present, where we see Black bodies gunned down in the streets for the most trivial offenses, police brutality against African Americans is a sickening reality. Every time a Black man or woman is murdered by law enforcement, it’s not an isolated incident—it’s a continuation of a systemic war on Black people.

The police, as enforcers of the status quo, are the boots on the ground in this ongoing struggle for Black liberation. They are tasked with maintaining a system that thrives on racial hierarchy, keeping Black bodies in check.

When Black communities speak out against police violence, they are often met with the same cold indifference—if not outright hostility—that has always been directed at them. The message is clear: Black lives don’t matter, not in this country, not to these people. And what’s more, those who defend these institutions, who call for “law and order,” are complicit in perpetuating this injustice. The brutality we face is a constant reminder that we have no allies in the system meant to protect us.

The Mexican American Perspective The story of Mexican Americans is not so different. Living in constant fear of deportation and profiling, Mexican Americans, too, find themselves in the crosshairs of a corrupt police force. The militarization of police, particularly in border areas, has created a culture of brutality that targets not only those without papers but also anyone who looks “foreign.” The police, far from protecting Mexican American communities, act as agents of the state’s colonial agenda—

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enforcing borders, enforcing boundaries, and upholding the racial lines that have been drawn for centuries.

Much like African Americans, Mexican Americans have been left to fend for themselves in a society that openly devalues them. We see it in the daily harassment, in the fear of being pulled over for nothing more than the color of your skin, in the vicious cycle of deportation and criminalization. And yet, there are still those who believe that if you just “respect authority” and “follow the rules,” you’ll be safe. But safety isn’t a privilege extended to Mexican Americans, especially when the police are often the ones instilling the fear.

The Asian American Perspective Asian Americans, often perceived as “model minorities,” are not immune to the violence and dehumanization of law enforcement. Though their experiences might differ in some respects, they share the same systemic oppression. From the internment camps of World War II to the recent surge in anti-Asian violence, the police have shown themselves to be either indifferent to or complicit in the violence inflicted upon Asian communities. They have rarely been a source of refuge for Asian Americans but rather an arm of a system that fails to see their humanity,

only their utility in maintaining a whitedominated order.

When Asian Americans are assaulted—or worse, murdered—there is rarely an outcry for justice, and the police are often quick to dismiss these incidents, either downplaying the severity or placing the blame on the victims themselves. The message is clear: Asian American lives are expendable, their suffering irrelevant.

And once again, the police remain silent partners in this process of erasure.

The White American Perspective It’s easy for white Americans to distance themselves from the issue of police brutality. After all, the police are often viewed as protectors of white property and values. However, even white Americans are not entirely safe from the grasp of law enforcement. They may not face the same day-to-day violence as marginalized communities, but they, too, are victims of a broken system. The white working class, often ignored by politicians and the ruling elite, is also preyed upon by police forces that use force to maintain order and suppress dissent. The working poor in white communities experience the same harassment, violence, and lack of accountability from law enforcement.

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Even white Americans who consider themselves “law-abiding citizens” are not immune to the harsh reality of a system that prioritizes control over justice. When protests arise, when people rise up against the system that abuses them, it’s not uncommon to see the police deployed against anyone who dares to challenge the status quo—whether that person is Black, Brown, white, or anything else. In the end, the state doesn’t care about color; it only cares about maintaining power.

The Poor: No Matter the Race It’s time to admit a hard truth: the police don’t just brutalize people of color—they brutalize the poor, regardless of race.

Poverty makes you a target. The police prey on the disenfranchised, the homeless, the drug-addicted, and the mentally ill—anyone who doesn’t fit the mold of the “ideal citizen.” Whether you’re Black, Brown, or white, if you’re poor, you’re fair game for the cops. They’ll arrest you for standing on a street corner, throw you in a cell for not having the right

papers, or kill you on sight if you’re deemed a threat to the system.

The reality is that law enforcement is an institution created to serve the interests of the wealthy and powerful. It is designed to maintain order—but that order is the order of the rich, the powerful, and the elite. The poor, no matter their race, are expendable. And the police are the muscle that enforces this brutal hierarchy.

The Myth of the “Good Cop” Now, let’s talk about the myth of the good cop. The moral duties of a law enforcement officer are supposed to be to protect and serve, to uphold justice, and to defend the public from harm. But this idea —this illusion of the good cop—falls apart when you realize that law enforcement, at its core, exists to maintain a system built on oppression. No matter how wellintentioned an individual officer may be, the system they operate within is fundamentally flawed, and their role within it is one of control, not protection.

A good cop, by definition, is someone who challenges injustice and fights for equality.

But no cop can be good when their job is to enforce laws that disproportionately harm marginalized communities. No cop can be good when their very presence is a tool of oppression. If they speak out against brutality, they are silenced, dismissed, or fired. If they refuse to comply with the culture of violence, they are ostracized. In short, the system does not allow for goodness. To be a cop is to be part of the problem.

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A Common Oppressor We have to face the truth: police brutality is not an isolated issue. It’s not just about Black bodies or Brown bodies or Asian bodies. It’s about all of us—because the same forces that oppress one group of people are the forces that will eventually come for everyone. The police are not our protectors—they are the enforcers of a system that exists only to serve the rich and powerful. They are the enforcers of an order that keeps us in our place, whether that place is one of poverty, exploitation, or marginalization.

The only way forward is to dismantle this system, to tear down the institutions that have been built to oppress us all. The first step is recognizing that we are all in this together. Whether you are Black, Brown, white, or poor, we all share a common enemy—the police. And the time has come to rise up against them, to demand justice, and to fight for a world where no one is above the law, and where everyone’s life truly matters.

There is no good cop.

There is only the system—and it must be destroyed.

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– Malcolm X

“I’m for truth, no matter who tells it. I’m for justice, no matter who it is for or against.”

POLICE REFORM: A HOLLOW PROMISE TO PRESERVE AN UNJUST SYSTEM Police reform—it’s a phrase that has echoed through the halls of political offices, the streets during protests, and the mouths of those who claim to be committed to justice. On the surface, it sounds reasonable. After all, who wouldn’t want a police force that treats everyone fairly and upholds the law with integrity? But the problem lies in the fact that police reform is not the solution to the systemic issues that plague law enforcement in this country. It is a distraction, a band-aid on a gaping wound, a tactic used by the state to placate the masses while preserving the very structures that allow police brutality and oppression to thrive. No amount of reform can fix a system that was never designed to be just.

When we talk about police reform, we must first understand what it implies. Reform, in this context, is often presented as a solution that can make the police more accountable, more professional, and less prone to violence. It might involve things like body cameras, implicit bias training, civilian oversight committees, or changes to use-of-force policies. While these reforms may seem like steps in the right direction, they ultimately fail to address the root of the problem: the police are part of a system that was built to control, subjugate, and maintain the power dynamics that exist in society. Police reform, as it is typically presented, seeks to make the system work more efficiently, but it never questions the system itself.

For marginalized communities—particularly African Americans, Mexican Americans, and other people of color—police reform is nothing more than a cosmetic fix. No amount of training or policy change will stop police from viewing Black and brown bodies as inherently dangerous or criminal. No body camera can erase the centuries of racial profiling, brutality, and violence that have been perpetrated against these communities by law enforcement. The problem is not the individual officers; it is the system that upholds them and the culture that enables them to act with impunity.

Take, for example, the promises made after the murder of George Floyd. The widespread calls for reform, for changes to the police force, for measures to increase accountability—these were all seen as signs of progress. But look at the results. Cities across the country promised to defund the police, to redistribute funding toward community services and mental health programs. Yet many of those promises have not been fully realized, and what remains are minor adjustments to police practices that do little to address the broader issues of systemic racism, militarization, and the constant cycle of violence that defines American policing.

The truth is, the police are not broken—they are working exactly as they were designed to work. From their inception, police forces in the U.S. were created to protect property and maintain order, not to serve and protect the people. In the early days of policing, the system was used to enforce slavery, suppress labor movements, and protect the interests of the rich.

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Today, they continue to serve the same function: to maintain the power structures that keep the wealthy and powerful in control, while suppressing the rest of us. The police are the enforcers of an unjust system, and no amount of reform will change that.

Even when reform is implemented, it is often cosmetic, designed to make people feel better without actually changing anything fundamental.

Training programs aimed at reducing bias, for example, may provide officers with the knowledge of what constitutes discrimination or racial profiling, but they do nothing to address the ingrained culture of violence and domination within police forces. Implicit bias training is nothing more than a temporary fix, a way to give the appearance of change while the underlying issue remains intact. Similarly, body cameras, while they can provide some transparency, do not stop officers from brutalizing people. What happens when the camera is off? What happens when the footage is conveniently lost or tampered with? The presence of technology does not guarantee accountability. It merely adds another layer of surveillance to an already oppressive system.

Civilian oversight committees, another popular form of reform, sound like a step in the right direction, but in practice, they are often powerless.

These committees may have the ability to investigate complaints of police misconduct, but they lack the authority to make meaningful change. In many cases, the police unions, which wield significant power, fight against any real oversight. They protect their own, ensuring that officers who commit violence or misconduct are rarely held accountable.

The system is designed to protect the police, not the people they are supposed to serve.

And then there are the calls for “better training,” another hollow promise that only serves to distract from the real issues at hand. Officers may be trained to de-escalate situations, but when they are taught that their primary role is to maintain control through force, it becomes difficult, if not impossible, for them to act with the humanity and care that reform advocates demand. They are trained to see threats, to be suspicious, to act quickly and aggressively. A system that values control over compassion cannot be reformed through a few hours of training or a couple of new protocols.

What police reform really does is perpetuate the idea that the police, as they are currently constituted, can be fixed—that the problems with law enforcement are the result of a few bad apples or a lack of proper procedures. This is a dangerous and misleading narrative. The real problem is not individual misconduct; it is the very structure of the police force, a force that operates within a system of racial and economic inequality, that exists to preserve power, not to protect and serve.

Reform is nothing more than a way to pacify the public, to create the illusion of progress, while the core of the issue remains untouched. The political and economic elite benefit from the status quo, and they will do everything they can to prevent any real change from taking place. The system was never designed to serve the poor or marginalized communities. It was never intended to stop police brutality; it was built to protect those in power and maintain their dominance over the rest of us.

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The only real solution to police brutality and systemic injustice is not reform—it is revolution. It is the dismantling of a corrupt system that continues to harm and oppress those who have the least power. It is the creation of a new system of justice, one that doesn’t rely on force and violence, but on care, equity, and community empowerment. Until we acknowledge that the entire system needs to be torn down and rebuilt, any talk of reform will be nothing more than a distraction—a way to appease the masses while continuing to allow the police to act as an instrument of oppression.

The time for reform has long passed. The time for true justice has arrived. Anything less than radical change is a betrayal of the people who have suffered at the hands of this system for far too long. Police reform is nothing more than a band-aid on a wound that requires surgery—deep, systemic, and irreversible change. Until that happens, nothing will truly change. The police will remain the enforcers of oppression, and the struggle for justice will continue.

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THE POLICE STARTED IT Part of the narrative on mainstream media, especially right-wing media, during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests was that people were rioting and destroying everything in their path. The right liked to use that to try to discredit the left, but what I witnessed firsthand didn't exactly vibe with the party line.

I marched with Black Lives Matter at the Virginia Beach oceanfront. We all gathered at Rudy Inlet late afternoon. There were only a few of us at first, people of all ages and colors, and slowly the group gathered. There was one police officer. Someone started burning sage and pretty soon we were marching down Atlantic Avenue. By that time there were only three or four officers. We made our way down the street and while it was a lively crowd, no one damaged anything.

We walked the entire length of the boardwalk, circled around a block, and back onto Atlantic Ave.

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I wasn't in a hurry and wasn't trying to be with the head of the crowd, so by then I had fallen to the rear with some of the older folks and others who were just chilling. By the time we began nearing our starting point, night had fallen and I realized that there were cops everywhere. Cops on foot, cops on bicycles, cars, riot gear, SWAT vehicles; it appeared the entire Virginia Beach Police force was on hand for what was then still just a march.

Then it went pear-shaped. As I neared the parking lot where my vehicle was located, I realized that the main group of the protest had been kettled by the police into a parking garage and the adjoining street. Someone came running toward me talking about the cops using tear gas. Anger and chaos ensued.

It was then, and as far as I saw only then, that people started breaking windows and throwing trash cans, etc. Legend has it someone even commandeered a crane, though I didn't actually see that.

I firmly believe that had the cops just left us alone, everyone would have just gone home when the march was over. We were already back to where we had started by that point. It was an exuberant protest, yes, but no one seemed to want to be violent, and I never heard anyone advocating for rioting or violence of any kind. They could have just let us be, but instead they cornered and intentionally aggravated the crowd.

The police started it.

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HOW WE GOT HERE: 300 YEARS OF VIOLENCE 1704

1865

SL AVE PATROLS STARTED IN SOUTH CAROLINA

S L AV E PAT R O L S O F F I C I A L LY ENDED

THEIR JOB WASN’T PUBLIC SAFETY — IT WAS HUNTING DOWN, PUNISHING, AND CONTROLLING ENSLAVED PEOPLE. THIS BECAME THE BLUEPRINT 1838 FOR MODERN POLICING IN THE FIRST OFFICIAL U.S. POLICE DEPARTMENT FORMED IN BOSTON

SL AVE PATROLS ENDED ON PAPER, BUT THEIR TACTICS LIVED ON THROUGH LOCAL POLICE, WHO ENFORCED “BLACK CODES” AND ARRESTED FREED BLACK PEOPLE FOR ANYTHING AND 1865–1877 EVERYTHING.

1877–1950

STATES PASSED L AWS TO CRIMINALIZE EVERYDAY BLACK LIFE. ARRESTED FOR BEING UNEMPLOYED OR “ D I S O R D E R LY , ” B L A C K PEOPLE WERE FORCED INTO CONVICT LEASING.

1994

2020–NOW

1950–1960

COPS BEAT, ARRESTED, AND KILLED ACTIVISTS DEMANDING BASIC RIGHTS. THE BADGE BECAME A WEAPON AGAINST THOSE FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM. 1971

POLICE UPHELD SEGREGATION, PROTECTED WHITE MOBS DURING LY N C H I N G S , A N D BRUTALIZED BLACK COMMUNITIES FIGHTING FOR SURVIVAL AND DIGNITY.

BLACK CODES + CONVICT LEASING

CREATED TO PROTECT PROPERTY, ENFORCE RACIAL AND CLASS ORDER, AND CONTROL WORKINGCLASS, BLACK, AND IMMIGRANT COMMUNITIES — NOT TO SERVE AND PROTECT EVERYONE.

CIVIL RIGHTS CRACKDOWN

JIM CROW POLICING

CLINTON’S CRIME BILL PASSED MORE COPS. HARSHER SENTENCES. THREE-STRIKES LAWS . MASS INCARCERATION HIT NEW LEVELS, WRECKING BLACK FAMILIES AND NEIGHBORHOODS 2014 FOR GENERATIONS .

THE WAR ON DRUGS BEGINS NIXON LAUNCHED IT TO CRIMINALIZE BLACK PEOPLE AND ANTI-WAR PROTESTORS. POLICE GOT MILITARY WEAPONS , MASS INCARCERATION EXPLODED, AND COMMUNITIES WERE DEVASTATED.

MORE DEATHS. MORE VICTIMS. GEORGE FLOYD. BREONNA T AY L O R . PA T R I C K LY O YA .

SONYA MASSEY. TYRE NICHOLS. THIS SYSTEM ISN’T BROKEN — IT’S WORKING E X A C T LY H O W I T W A S B U I LT TO.

“I CAN’T BREATHE” -ERIC GARNER’S LAST WORDS KILLED BY NYPD FOR SELLING LOOSE CIGARETTES . HIS DEATH B E C A M E A R A L LY I N G C R Y FOR A NEW MOVEMENT AGAINST POLICE BRUTALITY.

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Systematic Intimidation: The Perpetuation of Fear and Control

In the United States, intimidation isn’t just a tactic used by individuals—it’s a system embedded into the very institutions meant to protect and serve. Carried out by police, government structures, and societal powers, this intimidation maintains control, silences dissent, and perpetuates fear—particularly in marginalized communities. This fear is not incidental. It is by design.

At the center of this system is the criminal justice apparatus, not built for justice, but for control. Police forces don’t just enforce laws—they uphold a social order that favors the wealthy, the powerful, and the white. With weapons and unchecked authority, they stop, search, question, and arrest people based on appearance, race, or class. To question that authority is to invite violence.

But intimidation isn't limited to physical force. It’s psychological. The sheer presence of law enforcement instills fear, making communities feel under constant surveillance. Stop-and-frisk, facial recognition, and aggressive community policing tactics disproportionately target low-income neighborhoods and people of color, fostering suspicion and anxiety.

For Black, Latino, Muslim, and other marginalized communities, this isn’t theory— it’s a daily reality. Police have long been used to suppress dissent and preserve racial hierarchies. From the crackdowns on civil rights protests to the surveillance of Muslim neighborhoods post-9/11, intimidation has served to prevent empowerment and resistance.

And it’s not just about race—poverty itself is criminalized. The homeless, the working poor, the addicted—they are pursued and punished for their existence. Laws target them. Police enforce those laws. Minor infractions become gateways to harassment, incarceration, and systemic abuse. The message is clear: stay in your place.

Even white Americans are not immune—especially those who challenge the power structure. Protesters, journalists, and dissenters are also met with force. Police don’t just patrol; they defend the interests of the ruling class. Those who speak out are silenced with batons, rubber bullets, and legal retribution.

The media plays its part, too. Corporate-owned outlets feed the public a steady stream of fear, portraying Black and brown communities as dangerous while minimizing white violence. This narrative conditions society to accept state violence as necessary and to distrust those who dare to resist.

This system of intimidation is not broken—it’s working exactly as designed. Its purpose is to maintain power and discourage resistance. But communities continue to rise. Movements like Black Lives Matter, immigrant rights campaigns, and calls to defund the police challenge this system head-on. These acts of resistance are not just demands for reform—they are declarations of defiance.

To dismantle this system, we must expose it, challenge it, and build alternatives rooted in justice, equity, and care. We must invest in community-led safety, hold institutions accountable, and end the use of fear as governance. The time for fear is over. It is time to resist.

"This fear is not incidental. It is by design."

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SAY THEIR NAMES MURDERED BY POLICE. NEVER FORGOTTEN.

Georg e Floyd — 46, killed by Minne apolis police in 2020

Sonya Massey — 36, killed by an Illinois deputy in her own home in 2024

Tamir Rice — 12, shot by Clevel and police while playin g in 2014

Timothy Michael Randall — 29, shot in the chest by a Texas deputy during a 2022 traffic stop.

Victor Perez — 17, autistic teen with cerebral palsy, shot nine times by Idaho police within 15 seconds of arrival in 2025.

Breonna Taylor — 26, shot in her home by Louisville police in 2020

Eric Garner — 43, choked to death

by NYPD in 2014

Tyre Nichols — 29, beaten to death by six Memphis police officers during a traffic stop in 2023

Ta’Kiy a Young — 21, shot by Ohio police in 2023 while pregn ant. Her unbor n daughter also died.

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1312 ACAB: A REVOLUTION AGAINST OPPRESSION AND LIES 1312. More than a number — it’s a code, a declaration, a battle cry against statesanctioned violence. For those who know, it’s a rejection of the lie that police exist to protect and serve. These four digits carry a truth: unfiltered, unforgiving, and undeniable.

Policing in this country was never about protecting the vulnerable. From its inception, it existed to protect property, defend the powerful, and crush resistance. 1312 calls out the role police have always played — enforcing a system built on exploitation, racism, and control. Every act of brutality, every cover-up, every discarded life — it’s by design.

1312 is a revolt against the myth of police benevolence. There’s no justice, peace, or protection under the boot of those hired to keep us in our place. When they murder, terrorize Black and Brown communities, criminalize the poor, and invade neighborhoods with military force — it isn’t a glitch. It’s the function.

Police brutality isn’t a few “bad apples.” It’s the natural product of a system built for subjugation. Police are trained to control, not protect — to suppress, not serve. They’re taught to see marginalized people as threats, and when that turns lethal, they lie — to protect themselves and preserve the system.

We carry the names of those lost: George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, and too many others. These aren’t exceptions — they’re the predictable outcomes of a system built on fear and control. Every time we hear “They resisted” or “They were a threat,” we know better. 1312 is the refusal to accept those lies. Police don’t protect people — they protect power.

And let’s be clear — reform won’t save us. It never has. Body cameras, de-escalation training, and review boards are distractions. The violence isn’t a flaw; it’s the system.

Until policing as we know it is dismantled, nothing changes.

1312 rejects the hero narrative. Police aren’t saviors; they are violent enforcers of a system that criminalizes poverty, demonizes dissent, and brutalizes marginalized communities. They protect power and silence resistance. 1312 is the truth: Cops Lie. And we will no longer stand for it.

Silence is complicity. Defending this system gives it permission to continue. If you believe in “good cops,” you are part of the problem. If you stand for justice, you must stand against this system. You must stand for 1312.

Because here’s the truth: Cops Lie. They lie to us, to themselves, and to justify their violence. As long as they exist in this form, 1312 remains the truth we carry, shout, and refuse to silence.

Giving them a pass is giving them permission. Silence is complicity. And we refuse to be complicit any longer.

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The Prison System: A Monument to Injustice and Oppression

The U.S. prison system is not about justice — it’s about control. It's a profit-driven machine that perpetuates inequality, dehumanizes the poor, and protects the powerful. Disguised as “rehabilitation” and “public safety,” it punishes society’s most vulnerable, especially communities of color. No reform can undo its foundational harm. The system is built to maintain dominance, not deliver justice.

From the start, prisons have targeted marginalized groups. After slavery was abolished, incarceration became a legal means of exploiting Black labor. Mass incarceration is not accidental — it’s rooted in systemic racism. The “War on Drugs” disproportionately impacted Black and brown communities, fueling the rise of private prisons that profit from caging human beings.

The U.S. has the highest incarceration rate in the world — over 2 million people. That figure isn’t about public safety; it reflects a system built to criminalize poverty, trauma, and disenfranchisement. It targets those failed by education, healthcare, and housing, not just criminals, but people trying to survive.

Racial disparities define every stage of the process. Black and brown people are arrested more often, sentenced more harshly, and treated worse inside. This is no coincidence — it’s systemic. The prison system treats their lives as disposable.

Private prisons turn incarceration into big business. The more people they cage, the more money they make. They lobby for longer sentences and harsher laws, while paying prisoners pennies for labor. It’s modern-day slavery: profit over people, cruelty over care.

This system doesn’t just harm those inside — it destroys families and communities.

Generations are affected, especially in Black and brown neighborhoods where incarceration is common and resources are scarce. The trauma ripples outward.

Reform won’t fix this. Improving prison conditions or tweaking sentencing laws doesn’t address the root: a system built on racism, punishment, and profit. Real change isn’t about making prison “better” — it’s about questioning why we imprison people at all.

Prisons don’t rehabilitate — they punish. They isolate, abuse, and dehumanize. Those inside rarely come out better; most are left more traumatized. We strip people of their rights, then expect them to reenter society without support or healing.

And while prisons claim to address crime, they worsen its root causes. Instead of treating poverty, addiction, or mental illness, the system criminalizes them.

Incarceration doesn’t solve these problems — it magnifies them.

Prison abolition is not a radical dream — it’s a necessary response to a failed system.

It’s about building community-based alternatives that address harm, promote accountability, and actually support healing. Justice doesn’t require cages — it requires care, dignity, and equity.

Until we confront the truth — that this system was never about justice — we will keep punishing the vulnerable and protecting the powerful. Reform won't save us.

Only abolition can.

"The prison system was never built for justice; it was built for control."

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Brown Coats to Black Body Bags ICE, the New Gestapo: Deportation Squads in the Age

The real “crisis” at the border is the moral collapse of

of Empire

those who believe the state has the right to decide who lives and who dies.

They come at dawn.

Abolish ICE. Abolish the Police. Abolish the State.

Boots at the door. Flashing lights. Children screaming. A mother dragged from her home. A father who never

You can’t reform ICE. You can’t soften fascism. You

comes back from work. This isn’t a distant echo of a

can’t leash a monster built to kill.

fascist past — this is America, now. This is ICE: Immigration and Customs Enforcement, a modern-day

ICE must be abolished — not defunded, not rebranded.

Gestapo dressed in blue and branded with a barcode.

Erased, like slavery, like segregation, like every system built on human suffering. The police must follow. And

ICE was never meant to “protect” anyone. Born from

the state that created them must collapse under its own

post-9/11 paranoia and imperial decay, it’s a weapon

cruelty.

forged in racism, wielded with cruelty, and fueled by propaganda that paints migrants as criminals and

We don’t want new laws. We want freedom. Direct

invaders. This is the language of fascism. This is the

action. Mutual aid. Community defense. Underground

logic of the Holocaust. And yes — the comparison is

railroads for the undocumented. Sanctuary built not in

intentional.

words, but in barricades and resistance.

The Border is a Myth — The Violence is Real

The agents of the state come to our doors like stormtroopers. But we are not helpless. We are many.

There’s no such thing as an illegal human being. Borders

And when we stand together — migrant, worker,

aren’t sacred — they’re lines drawn in blood by empire.

anarchist, dreamer — they cannot disappear us all.

The U.S. has destabilized, colonized, and looted the very

This isn’t a time for fear.

countries it demonizes for “sending migrants.” From

It’s a time for fire.

Honduras to Haiti, Guatemala to El Salvador, American imperialism created the chaos driving migration. And

No borders. No nations. No prisons. No police.

now it punishes people for fleeing the wreckage.

It’s like burning down someone’s house, then arresting them for trespassing when they knock on your door.

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Cages for Profit: The Global Machinery of State Violence from the U.S. to El Salvador Beneath barbed wire and watchtowers, the prison industrial complex thrives — not as a flaw or necessity, but as a weapon of social control, rooted in capitalism and state power. From privatized megaprisons in the U.S. to El Salvador’s latest carceral monstrosity, the message is clear: incarceration isn’t justice, it’s domination.

The Prison Industrial Complex: A Capitalist Engine of Misery In the “land of the free,” over two million people — mostly Black, Brown, Indigenous, and poor — are locked away. Every occupied cell means profit for prison contractors, police unions, surveillance firms, and politicians. This system isn’t broken; it operates with ruthless precision. It criminalizes poverty, dissent, addiction, and migration. It legalizes slavery under the 13th Amendment, extracting labor while courts and cops maintain the machine.

This isn’t justice — it’s oppression for profit.

El Salvador’s Mega Prison: Authoritarianism on Display In 2023, President Nayib Bukele opened Latin America’s largest prison, a concrete threat to the poor and defiant. Thousands detained without trial, drones, electric fences, isolation cells — it’s not about safety, it’s about submission. This isn’t an outlier. It’s a global blueprint for carceral fascism, designed to please investors and strongmen alike.

We Don’t Want Better Prisons — We Want None Prisons aren’t about rehabilitation. They’re tools of terror — colonial, capitalist, and patriarchal to their core. The answer isn’t reform, it’s abolition. Defund the police. Dismantle prisons. Build systems of care, solidarity, and mutual aid. Tear down borders and laws that criminalize survival.

No one is free until we all are. The revolution won’t come from ballots or bureaucrats — it’ll rise when we finally say: enough.

“He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past.”

— George Orwell