Marize Guarani, president of Aldeia Maracanã, an Indigenous collective based in Rio de Janeiro, in her neighborhood located in the periferia, or outskirts, of the city / credit: Antonio Cascio
BRASILIA, Brazil—Despite hoping for change under the new Brazilian government, Marize Guarani remembers unfulfilled promises from Lula’s first term in office.
“One thing you can be sure of is that over the next four years, we will be on the streets demanding our rights,” said Guarani, a history professor and president of Aldeia Maracanã, an Indigenous collective based in Rio de Janeiro. (In Brazil, Indigenous people take the name of their people as their surname.)
The victory of Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva during the presidential run-off election on October 30 has inspired many sectors of Brazilian society. The sentiment is mirrored internationally, with expectations that Lula’s plan will reverse four years of devastating Amazon deforestation that took place under former President Jair Bolsonaro. According to the Inpe (National Institute for Space Research), during Bolsonaro’s term, the annual average of deforestation was 11,500 square kilometers—or the size of the country of Qatar—in comparison to 7,500 square kilometers under his predecessor.
However, for the first time in Brazilian history, representatives of Indigenous communities have been placed in positions of state power. Brazil will not only have a ministry of Indigenous affairs, but that government body will be led by an Indigenous leader, Sonia Guajajara.
“Today, the Indigenous protagonism within Lula’s government is completely different to his first term in office,” said Elaine Moreira, anthropologist professor and coordinator of the Observatory of Indigenist Rights and Politics project at the University of Brasilia. “Today, it is not possible to govern the country without [Indigenous peoples].”
Brazilians watch Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva speak on a large screen at the January 1 inauguration held in the center of Brasilia / credit: Antonio Cascio
Joy on Inauguration Day
Among the thousands of people who traveled hundreds of kilometers to support Lula during his January 1 inauguration were Indigenous leaders and representatives of communities from all over the country. Hundreds of tents were pitched on December 31 in the Mané Garrincha Stadium in Brasilia, where they celebrated New Year’s Eve. The following day, an estimated 160,000 people mostly dressed in red shirts—the color of Lula’s Workers’ Party—attended the Festival do Futuro (Future Festival). The event was organized to commemorate the shift in power.
“For me, it is priceless to be here,” Vice-Chief Sarapó told Toward Freedom. His name means “Defender of Nature.”
During the celebration, people watched on screens as Lula took the helm. Thousands of Lula supporters danced as a variety of Brazilian artists performed on stage.
“After so much persecution of President Lula, we won the election. That is why Lula is like our Indigenous brother,” added Sarapó, who represented more than 5,000 Pankararú people, who live in the northeastern state of Pernambuco.
Indigenous chiefs took part in Festival do Futuro (Future Festival) on January 1. They made the gesture with their hands that represents support for President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva / credit: Antonio Cascio
In 2017, Lula was convicted of corruption charges and spent 18 months in prison before a Supreme Court judge annulled the charges, clearing him to run for office.
After Bolsonaro fled the country in what many have seen as an attempt to avoid prosecution for violations during his term, 77-year-old Lula received the inaugural sash from a group of people representing the diversity of Brazilian society. Environmental activist and Indigenous leader Raoni Metuktire of the Kayapo people walked by his side during the symbolic act. Raoni is internationally known for his life-long defense of the Amazon, as well as for his distinctive yellow feather headdress and lip plate. He is one of the last members of his community to use the lip accessory.
The Brasilia Stadium transformed into a tent camp for Lula’s supporters, who traveled from all over Brazil to attend the inauguration / credit: Antonio Cascio
Restructuring Institutions with the Participation of Indigenous Peoples
On January 3, Indigenous leaders and government representatives took part in a symbolic takeover of the Foundation of Indigenous Peoples (Funai). For the first time since the body was created in 1967, an Indigenous person will serve as its president. The Funai’s main responsibilities are defending Indigenous rights, demarcating their territories and protecting the environment within Indigenous lands.
Guajajara, plus Joenia Wapichana as president of the Funai, Célia Xakriabá as federal deputy for the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais and Weibe Tapeba as head of the Special Secretariat for Indigenous Health (SESAI) said they constitute a solid bloc to defend the rights of Indigenous peoples.
“We three seated at this table, occupying strategic places in the institutional politics of the Brazilian state, represent the unity within the Indigenous movement,” Tapeda said at the event.
The room filled with mixed emotion as Indigenous leaders took turns speaking. At times, people hugged and celebrated a hopeful future. At other moments, they shed tears over what they see as four years of anti-Indigenous policy that led to the suffering and deaths of their peoples.
Some, including Lula, have accused Bolsonaro of genocide against the Yanomami people, who are experiencing a malnutrition and malaria crisis that has been linked to the former president’s pro-mining policy and a lack of healthcare.
“We had never suffered as much persecution as in the last four years,” Guajajara said during the event. “A persecution that, on top of everything, came from the same institution that was supposed to protect us.”
From left: Chief Raoni Metuktire, Sonia Guajajara and Joenia Wapichana raise their hands together to celebrate Brazilian Indigenous communities taking over the Funai (National Foundation of the Indigenous People), on January 2 / credit: Antonio Cascio
Ensuring Environmental Protection
Lula’s government will face many obstacles with a congress in which the opposition is in the majority. Agribusiness and mining are key industries in Brazil and remain an important lobby in Congress.
Yet, Lula’s promises to center impacted people in his cabinet already have born fruit in the form of a social budget for 2023 that amounts to 145 billion reais ($27.9 billion). This would enable the government to comply with programs, such as subsidies for the most vulnerable sectors of society, increasing the minimum wage, and improving education and the healthcare system. However, questions have arisen about guaranteeing sufficient resources for all departments. Brazil’s economy faces high inflation and interest rates.
Lula’s government has planned to move toward a zero-deforestation economy.
“A solution to climate change does not exist without understanding the contribution that we Indigenous peoples make,” Xakriabá told Toward Freedom.
Célia Xabriabà, representative of the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, receives applause on January 2 after her speech in support of the struggle of Indigenous peoples at during a ceremony commemorating Indigenous people taking over the FUNAI (National Foundation of the Indigenous People). To her left is Weibe Tapeba, the new head of the Special Secretariat for Indigenous Health (SESAI) / credit: Antonio Cascio
The Ministry of Environment has agreed to create trans-institutional mechanisms that communicate with the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs and all sectors.
“The fact that we have today a Ministry of Indigenous Affairs will affect directly the Ministry of Environment,” said anthropologist Moreira. “Especially in connection to recovering degraded lands invaded by illegal logging, but particularly by illegal mining.”
Gold mining increased 3,350 percent in the last four years, according to “Yanomami Under Attack,” a report that social services organization Hutukara Associação Yanomami released. That spike has been attributed to Bolsonaro’s decree to stimulate gold mining in the Amazon.
Bolsonaro also dismantled and militarized the Funai and other institutions that protected Indigenous communities and the environment. For example, he promoted deforestation to benefit agribusiness. In December, deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon was 150 percent higher than the previous year, according to the national space research agency, INPE. According to a report that environmental-news portal Mongabay cited, 250,000 hectares (620,000 acres) have been lost to private companies. Plus, Bolsonaro stopped Indigenous land demarcation.
However, under Lula, decrees that allowed “artisanal” gold mining on Indigenous land as well as the sale of Indigenous lands farmers had invaded, already have been revoked. The federal police and the Brazilian Institute of Environment (Ibama) will remove illegal gold miners from the Yanomami territories in the Amazonian region, Guajajara was quoted as saying to the journal, Estadão.
Indigenous Chief Junior Xukuru, advisor to the presidency of the CONAFER (National Confederation of Family Farmers and Rural Family Entrepreneurs), makes the gesture with his hand that represents support for President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva. He is pictured at the Brasilia Stadium’s tent camp, which was organized for people who traveled from all over Brazil to attend Lula’s inauguration / credit: Antonio Cascio
Confidence in Lula
Chief Merong Kamacã Mongoió, who made a 12-hour journey from the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais to commemorate Lula’s inauguration, said he is confident the Ministry of Indigenous Affairs will defend the interest of Indigenous communities over big industries.
“We also contribute to the country. We have family agriculture and agroforestry plantations,” said Chief Merong, whose community is in a land dispute with the mining giant, Vale. “What we do not want is mining, soya expansion, or transgenic plantations in our country.”
Indigenous leaders see land titling as the basis for ending the environmental crisis.
“The struggle to defend Mother Earth is the mother of all struggles,” Tapeda said during the event at the Funai. “We need to restart territorial demarcation now.”
Chief Junior of the Xuhurú people traveled from the state of Pernambuco, almost 2,000 kilometers from the capital. Like many others, he camped out.
“The most important matter at the moment for Indigenous peoples in Brazil is the need for land demarcation. To end logging and mining in our territories, and to expel the settlers that are there today usurping our land and washing it with Indigenous blood.”
Wapichana, Funai’s new president, asked in an interview with Toward Freedom for the public to be patient as the new group of Indigenous officials reorganize the institution.
“Through this union, we will demonstrate how it is to administer from an Indigenous vision.”
Natalia Torres Garzón graduated with an M.Sc. in Globalization and Development at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, United Kingdom. She is a freelance journalist who focuses on social and political issues in Latin America, especially in connection to Indigenous communities, women, and the environment. Her work has been published in Earth Island, New Internationalist, Toward Freedom, the section of Planeta Futuro-El País, El Salto, Esglobal and others.
Antonio Cascio is an Italian photojournalist focused on social movements, environmental justice and discriminated groups. He has been working as a freelancer from Europe and Latin America. He has also collaborated with news agencies like Reuters, Sopa Images and Abacapress, and his pictures have been published in the New York Times, CNN, BBC, the Guardian, DW, Mongabay, El País, Revista 5W, Liberation, Infobae, Folha de S.Paulo, Amnesty International and others.
Thousands of right-wing Brazilians gathered January 8 in Three Powers Square in Brasilia in a violent protest against newly inaugurated Brazilian President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva and to call for former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s return to power. The Bolsonaristas, as they are referred as, arrived in the capital from different parts of the country in organized buses. The government has been investigating who financed the transport of these groups, as well as the role played by the military and the police force. The Supreme Court also has authorized the investigation of Bolsonaro for his alleged participation in the attack / credit: Antonio Cascio
BRASILIA, Brazil—Bolsonarismo, a right-wing movement, was thought to be over with Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva taking office and former president, Jair Bolsonaro, fleeing the country. But the right-wing ideology’s battle for power is far from over.
On January 8, Brazil experienced an attack on its government institutions, similar in appearance to the Capitol building riot that took place just over two years ago in the United States. Thousands of people dressed in yellow-and-green soccer shirts stormed government institutions in Brasilia, destroying everything in their path. Yellow and green are the colors of the Brazilian flag.
Among the rioters were many evangelists, who, with rosaries in their hands, prayed for Bolsonaro’s return to power. While a large group arrived on organized buses from all over the country, others had been camping in the capital for months. They demanded military intervention and the recognition of Bolsonaro as president.
With hardly any resistance from police, the crowd took control of the Planalto Presidential Palace, the National Congress and the Supreme Court in Three Powers Square. The powers, in this case, refer to Brazil’s executive, legislative and judicial branches of government.
While security forces were on high alert over a possible attack on Lula’s life or disruptions during the presidential inauguration on January 1, Brasilia was unprotected on the day of the attack. Former Minister of Justice and Public Security Anderson Torres—an ally of Bolsonaro—had traveled to the United States, leaving the unit without command.
After a couple of hours of chaos, police forces were able to retake control of state buildings through the use of tear gas and stun grenades. By the end of the day, almost 2,000 people had been arrested.
Since then, many officials have been dismissed, others arrested, and security efforts have intensified.
Antonio Cascio captured the following photos in Brasilia on January 8.
Riot police obstruct former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s supporters from heading toward the Planalto Presidential Palace in Brasilia on January 8. Two hours earlier, they managed to break into the National Congress, where a small police force was present, and which President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva raised concern about. Right-wing extremists broke into government buildings, looting and vandalizing public property. A couple of hours later, the federal police seized control of the areas, arresting more than 1,500 people. Three days later, 599 were released, while the rest remain under investigation / credit: Antonio CascioA banner was left behind in the area of the riots. It says: “Armed Forces, bring order to the country, arrest the corrupts of the country! Bolsonaro is the legitimate president.” The Bolsonaristas did not accept Brazilian President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva’s victory in the October presidential election run-off and have called for former President Jair Bolsonaro to return to power. The former president, however, left for Florida two days before his successor’s inauguration. Brazilian Minister of Justice and Public Security Anderson Torres, an ally of Bolsonaro, also was in Florida on the day of the attack. He was removed from his position for leaving the capital unprotected and for facilitating the entry of right-wingers into state buildings. Torres was arrested while re-entering the country. The former head of the Military Police of Brasilia, Fabio Augusto Vieira, is also in custody / credit: Antonio CascioThe pictured building, the Planalto Presidential Palace, and the Supreme Court were designed by the architect Oscar Niemeyer and were deemed UNESCO World Heritage Sites in 1987. All three buildings in Three Powers Square house works of art by renowned Brazilian artists, plus antique furniture and important documents. Everything was destroyed in Bolsonaristas’ January 8 attack, authorities said. The value of the damage has not yet been estimated / credit: Antonio CascioJudicial police cars outside the Supreme Court also were vandalized. Many people who participated in the attacks were identified by live videos they shared on social media. The following day, arrests took place in the camp that had been set up in front of the Brasilia military base months prior. Campers were evicted the day after the attack / credit: Antonio CascioMilitary personnel can be seen here presiding over the Planalto Presidential Palace two days after the attack. Security forces were on high alert over a new call Bolsonaro supporters issued after January 8 to “retake Brasilia” on January 11. Demonstrations also were called to take place in the cities of São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro and Belo Horizonte / credit: Antonio CascioOn January 11, police forces patrolled government buildings in Three Powers Plaza in Brasilia / credit: Antonio CascioFederal police surveil with a drone the area where a few days prior Bolsonaristas had attacked state property. Brazilian President Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva accused some military officers and police officers in charge of securing Planalto Presidential Palace in Brasilia of having acted in collusion with the right-wing supporters of former President Jair Bolsonaro. Lula has since claimed to have removed all security officers who have expressed loyalty to Bolsonaro / credit: Antonio CascioThe inauguration of appointed Minister of Indigenous Affairs Sonia Guajajara was postponed to January 11 due to the January 8 attack. Because Bolsonaro supporters threatened another attack would take place that day, the event was celebrated at the Planalto Presidential Palace under tight security and restricted entrance. Guests watched the inauguration ceremony on a large TV screen outside the palace while military personnel guarded the area / credit: Antonio CascioThree Powers Square returned to normalcy after days of clearing damage Bolsonaristas had caused. Yet, strict security measures remain. While Bolsonaro’s supporters did not follow through with their call for a January 11 attack, tension remains in Brazil’s divided society / credit: Antonio Cascio
Natalia Torres Garzón graduated with an M.Sc. in Globalization and Development at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, United Kingdom. She is a freelance journalist who focuses on social and political issues in Latin America, especially in connection to Indigenous communities, women, and the environment. Her work has been published in Earth Island, New Internationalist, Toward Freedom, the section of Planeta Futuro-El País, El Salto, Esglobal and others.
Antonio Cascio is an Italian photojournalist focused on social movements, environmental justice and discriminated groups. He has been working as a freelancer from Europe and Latin America. He has also collaborated with news agencies like Reuters, Sopa Images and Abacapress, and his pictures have been published in the New York Times, CNN, BBC, the Guardian, DW, Mongabay, El País, Revista 5W, Liberation, Infobae, Folha de S.Paulo, Amnesty International and others.
Ashley O’Shay’s documentary “Unapologetic” is an examination of the lives of Black women and queer activists in Chicago as they navigate the response in the streets to the police killings of Rekia Boyd in 2012 and Laquan McDonald in 2014. While the documentary provides a chilling revelation of just how long the process for “justice” for these two police killings took, it also, and perhaps more importantly, focuses on the struggles on multiple levels that the people who took to the streets and organized behind the scenes to demand that justice endured during that time. Two of those people are Janea Bonsu, an organizer with Black Youth Project 100 (BYP100), and Ambrell “Bella” Gambrell, a scholar and raptivist (a rapper who is involved in political or social activism).
After an introductory soliloquy in which viewers are let in on the meaning behind the film’s title, footage appears from a direct action in what looks to be a ritzy eatery in one of Chicago’s whiter areas. Agitators—and I use that term quite intentionally and with the utmost respect—interrupt the relaxed regular dining of the mostly white patrons with a coordinated call and response, indicting the dismissal of the suffering of poor Black families struggling to put food on their tables, who were probably not far from where the visibly uncomfortable white folks were sitting. They all sat there and chit-chatted over meals that were probably overpriced.
Though some of the patrons tried to appear patient and listen attentively, many more tried even harder to ignore the agitators and get on with their meal despite them, which is the perfect representation of the way much of white U.S. society responds to Black suffering and death in general. But the comments of the testy restaurant employee, dressed in what appears to be an elf costume—which makes his testiness all the more comical and infuriating—really bring home the point that the documentary endeavors to make, but also the point that the agitators were making.
A scene from “Unapologetic”
The documentary proceeds to follow Janae as she completes her doctoral dissertation while organizing with BYP100, and Ambrelle as she uses her talent as a rapper and her exposure to the criminal justice system through family incarceration as the foundation of her activism. One should not mistake the difference in these two women being one of class—both are residents of the Southside of Chicago, and both have attended and graduated college. The difference appears to be the paths each takes with that foundation that the documentary shows contributes to their organizing efforts in different ways. One pursuing a Ph.D. based on pursuing alternatives to the disastrous impact on Black women that social services and interactions with the police have. The other eschews pursuit of further education in the system that she excoriates in one of her poems recited at an early protest.
And this is one contradiction that the documentary raises, or should raise, among its audience regarding academia and organizing—how useful is academia in organizing? Because while Janae is clearly passionate about working to find solutions to the very real problems of the negative impacts of the social services system on Black women, can solutions be found inside the very systems that perpetuate those problems? There are already plenty of educated folks in the social work field and even in policing, many of them Black. When we see in the documentary how Janae’s doctoral chair counsels her that she doesn’t have to talk about everything in her dissertation, isn’t this a reflection of how the established institutions respond to Black people when we raise the alarms about that system and its impact on us? A question to ponder, but not with the aim of besmirching Janae’s pursuit of her Ph.D., because the contradiction isn’t one regarding personal choice, but it is about systemic realities and being realistic about them.
Conversely, rather than go the academic route, Ambrelle took to the streets in the pursuit of organizing her own space, especially on behalf of Black women—and particularly queer women—who have experienced victimization by the carceral state. Clearly a skilled wordsmith and masterful with rap technique, she also draws upon her own experiences with multiple generations of family exposure to incarceration, using the experience of her mother’s incarceration and then her brother—still incarcerated at the time of the making of the documentary—to help other Black women deal with the trauma of that systemic victimization.
Both women actually have experience with the carceral system impacting their families, and both connect the repression of the state as part of the “War on Drugs” to the ongoing war on Black and poor people, and how this repression destroyed the stability of even economically struggling Black communities like in the Southside of Chicago.
That both women highlight the need to elevate the voices of young, Black and queer women in the new efforts at organizing is a central theme in the documentary. The role women play in organizing—that has been too often overlooked throughout the historical reflection of the long fight for liberation for Black people—is an important and well-highlighted discussion that both women and others throughout the documentary raise. In organizing meetings and in the streets, the documentary points out several instances throughout when Black men literally take the mic from Black women while they were speaking or talk over them, thereby dominating the discussion. It seems the film focuses on the organizing that occurred after Rekia Boyd’s killing precisely because few outside of Chicago probably understood how much focus the people in the streets DID pay to her killing, despite people outside of Chicago saying that the movement writ large doesn’t pay much attention to Black women killed by police.
However, there are contradictions even in these discussions in the film, as Ambrelle particularly describes Black men as being only interested in their position to power and as oppressors of Black women. But even with this troubling discourse about Black men, other voices in the documentary point out other possibilities, chief among them that Black men who exhibit misogynistic behavior toward Black women are largely unconscious of how some of their behavior negatively impacts Black women because they, too, are oppressed and do not realize the depth of their oppression. Just as in the questions surrounding the utility of academia in the movement, raising this contradiction is not a dig on Ambrelle, but an occasion to examine how we all talk about Black men in the spaces we all occupy in the movement.
Those contradictions that we all must wrestle with aside, the documentary delves into the hectic, exhausting, emotionally taxing life of Black organizers, activists and agitators—whatever you want to call them. The work that is done to confront city councils that refuse to listen to the demands of the people most impacted by police violence that is literally funded by their tax dollars, the difficulty balancing organizing and personal lives, the importance of strong family ties and support, and the difficulties even pursuing romantic interests are all issues among several others that remind the viewer that organizing is not a hobby. Nor is it a lifestyle. It is—for many of us—our life, our whole life. And it is such because our lives depend on it. But as the two women show in the various ways that they stay connected and grounded when they are not organizing or agitating, the necessity of having those connections and making that time for them outside of organizing and agitating is critical to their survival, too.
The documentary also presents a detailed timeline of the response of the Chicago Police Oversight Board and the mayor’s office to the police killings of Boyd and McDonald. In that timeline, we see the way now-Mayor Lori Lightfoot conducted herself in the presence of these agitators as they demanded the cop who killed Rekia be fired, but also the cold detachment as Rekia’s brother testified before the Chicago Police Board that Lightfoot presided over as president.
Watching it, you wonder how in the hell did she get away with presenting herself as a progressive after the despicable way in which she responded to these incidents and the people in that community demanding action be taken against the cops who committed them. Lightfoot’s recorded comments from that time period, and those of Rahm Emanuel, are repulsive and one wonders how the hell Lightfoot was elected mayor after the revelations of her boss Rahm Emanuel’s attempts to cover up evidence of the McDonald killing and the corruption of the Chicago District Attorney’s Office that was connected to Emanuel’s shady dealings. The politics of identity divorced from class analysis and good ol’ Democratic lesser-evilism are at play here, but it is not pointed out in the documentary. That is unfortunate, because these issues are critical drivers behind continued political malaise and stagnation among the very community the agitators are agitating on behalf of.
“Unapologetic” is a much-needed exposé into the actual lives of actual activists. It reveals that the “people in the streets” are ordinary folks struggling with ordinary life, but they also have the extraordinary desire to challenge and change this system because, as Black women and Black queer people, they also struggle with the extraordinary burdens heaped upon them by this society. That seems to be the primary focus of the documentary, though it also looks at how those ordinary people are pushed to be unapologetic about their activism and agitation—and that is a good thing. However, it leaves out the deeper discussions we need to have about the gender relations between Black men and Black women, classism, and identity reductionism that exist within this important work, all of which we cannot afford to ignore if we ever want to be healthy enough—mentally, emotionally, and as a community—to endure this continued struggle.
Jacqueline Luqman is a radical activist based in Washington, D.C.; as well as co-founder of Luqman Nation, an independent Black media outlet that can be found on YouTube (here and here) and on Facebook; and co-host of Radio Sputnik’s “By Any Means Necessary.”
Top, left to right: Mumia Abu Jamal, Julian Assange and Alex Saab. Bottom, left to right: Leonard Peltier, Rev. Joy Powell and Veronza Bowers / photo illustration: Multipolarista
Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in Multipolarista.
The United States constantly accuses its adversaries of holding political prisoners, while insisting it has none of its own. But for its entire history, the U.S. government has used incarceration of its political opponents as a tool to crush dissent and advance the interests of economic elites.
Well-known cases are those entrapped or framed in U.S. national security state sting operations, or imprisoned with extreme sentences for a minor offense because of their political activism, such as Black revolutionary George Jackson.
Each period of struggle by the working class and oppressed peoples against ruling-class control results in some activists locked up for their revolutionary work. “Political prisoner” has often meant those revolutionaries jailed for fighting their national oppression, as is the case with a great number of Black Panthers.
In contrast, a century ago, most political prisoners in the United States were Marxists, labor organizers, and anti-war activists, such as Joe Hill, Eugene Debs, and Big Bill Haywood.
Today, the U.S. national security state considers its most dangerous enemies those who expose its crimes at home and abroad.
There are also many thousands of incarcerated people who never received a fair trial, or were innocent of the crimes they have been jailed for. A high percentage of them are non-white, peoples subject to second-class citizenship in the United States. A number are executed, such as Troy Davis, or spend their whole lives in prison.
While the United States represents just over 4 percent of the world’s population, it holds approximately 20 percent of its prisoners. Black people are imprisoned at five times the rate of whites.
The following list of political prisoners currently detained by the U.S. government categorizes them into seven groups:
national security state employees and reporters locked up for publicizing blatant government criminality
representatives of foreign governments that Washington seeks to overthrow who were imprisoned for “violating” illegal unilateral U.S. sanctions
Black, Indigenous, and Latinx revolutionaries fighting for the rights of their peoples
Arabs and Muslims targeted after 9/11
prisoners detained in the Guantánamo torture center without charges
women locked up for defending themselves against violent attacks
environmental activists
1. Journalists and National Security State Employees Exposing Illegal U.S. Surveillance Operations and War Crimes
A number of whistleblowers in the United States have previously been imprisoned or are wanted. These have included:
Julian Assange is a renowned journalist and editor of WikiLeaks who was arrested in 2019 in the Ecuadorian embassy in London, where he had political asylum since 2012. In April 2022, a British judge ordered Assange extradited to the United States to face up to 175 years in prison for publishing truthful information about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The United States has indicted Assange under the Espionage Act, even though he published the same information as did the New York Times and Washington Post.
Researcher Mark Weisbrot explained in 2017, “Julian Assange is a political prisoner. … His crime, and that of WikiLeaks, has been the practice of journalism, and particularly in defense of human rights and civil liberties. … Assange and WikiLeaks’ real offense was to expose the crimes of the most powerful people in the world.”
Daniel Hale has been imprisoned since 2019. He was sentenced to 45 months for releasing documents showing U.S. military drone strikes in Afghanistan largely killed innocent people. Hale participated in the drone program while in the Air Force and NSA from 2009 to 2013, and later became an outspoken critic and a defender of whistle blowers.
Hale is believed to have been the source material for The Drone Papers. The documentary National Bird documents whistleblowers in the U.S. drone assassination program. For his truth-telling, Hale received the Sam Adams Award for Integrity in Intelligence and the Blueprint for Free Speech International Whistleblowing Prize. Chris Hedges has written about his case.
Joshua Schulte, a former hacker employed by the CIA, was blamed for releasing two billion pages of secret CIA data, known as Vault 7, to WikiLeaks. Vault 7 programs were CIA techniques used to compromise Wifi networks, hack into Skype, defeat anti-virus software, hack Apple and Android smartphones in overseas spying operations, turn internet-connected televisions into listening devices, and commandeer the guidance systems in cars.
Schulte has been imprisoned since 2018 and faces up to 80 years, in brutal conditions similar to those endured by Assange today.
Ana Belén Montes was a Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) analyst who alerted Cuba of U.S. plans of aggression. She was arrested in 2001, pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit espionage, and was held in solitary confinement in Fort Worth, Texas for most of her 21 years behind bars.
Montes told the judge, “I consider that the policy of our government towards Cuba is cruel and unjust, deeply unfriendly; I considered myself morally obligated to help the Island defend itself from our efforts to impose our values and our political system on it. We have displayed intolerance and contempt for Cuba for four decades. We have never respected Cuba’s right to define its own destiny, its own ideals of equality and justice. I do not understand how we continue to try to dictate. … how Cuba should select its leaders, who its leaders should not be and what laws are the most appropriate for that nation. Why don’t we let them decide how they want to conduct their internal affairs.”
2. Foreigners Imprisoned for ‘Violating’ Illegal U.S. Sanctions on Their Countries
Mun Chol Myong is a North Korean was extradited and imprisoned in the United States on March 20, 2021. Mun was arrested in Malaysia in May 2019 after a Washington, DC judge issued a warrant for his arrest. His supposed “crime” of conspiracy and money laundering in fact consisted of supplying needed goods to the DPRK by circumventing U.S. sanctions on the country.
A top Justice Department official claimed foreigners who have never been in the United States can be extradited to it for violating domestic laws. The United States has enforced a blockade against North Korea since 1950, the start of the U.S. war on Korea, designed to cripple its economic and social development.
Alex Saab, a Venezuelan diplomat, was jailed on June 12, 2020 in Cabo Verde on orders of the United States. He was then seized by U.S. agents and brought to a Miami prison on October 16, 2021.
As a diplomat, Saab has immunity from detention based on the UN Vienna Convention of 1961. The UN Human Rights Commission and other international human rights defenders have denounced his extradition. The National Lawyers Guild calls for Saab’s immediate release.
Simón Trinidad (Ricardo Palmera) was a long-time leader in mass movements for social change in Colombia, and is a top negotiator for the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). In 2003, he was sent to Ecuador to make contact with UN official James Lemoyne, as part of efforts to revive peace talks with the Colombian government, and begin communication on the exchange of prisoners of war.
He was captured in Ecuador in 2004 and then extradited to the U.S. on charges of narco-trafficking and kidnapping, and subjected to four separate trials, due to repeated mistrials. Ultimately, he was sentenced to 60 years at the Florence “Supermax” prison in Colorado.
Meng Wanzhou, the chief financial officer and deputy chair of the board of Chinese tech giant Huawei, was imprisoned in Canada in 2018 on a U.S. extradition request, after Washington accused her company of misleading British bank HSBC over its business dealings in Iran, thereby violating its illegal unilateral sanctions. Meng was released in September 2021.
3. Fighters for Their People’s National Oppression Against Second-Class Citizenship
Many Black political prisoners in the United States were targets of the police state’s Counter Intelligence Program (COINTELPRO) in the 1960s and ’70s, when the FBI sought to destroy the movement for Black freedom.
As journalist Glen Ford explained, “If you attempt to lead Black people on an independent political path, the U.S. state will seek to neutralize you, imprison you, or kill you. If you exercise your right to defend yourself, and your people, from the oppressive arm of the state, they make you into an outlaw, and hunt you down.”
The FBI said it goals in COINTELPRO were to “expose, disrupt, misdirect, discredit, or otherwise neutralize,” adding that “no opportunity must be missed to exploit through counterintelligence techniques … for maximum effectiveness … and a final goal should be to prevent the long range growth of militant black organizations, especially among youth.”
This police state operation against Black liberation resulted in at least 38 Black Panther Party members being killed, including Fred Hampton and Mark Clark, with hundreds more imprisoned on frame-up charges for their armed self-defense actions, several for more than 45 years.
Mumia Abu-Jamal is the most prominent former Black Panther political prisoner. In 1981, COINTELPRO style, he was sentenced to death for the murder of a Philadelphia cop. Judge Albert Sabo, who ruled in his case and in his appeals, was heard by a court reporter to state “I’m going to help them fry the ni**er.” Black jurors were excluded. Witnesses were bribed and threatened to lie on the stand. Documents were hidden in the state prosecutor’s office.
Leonard Peltier was an activist in the American Indian Movement (AIM) whose goal was to organize Indigenous communities to stand up for their rights. Sentenced to life as a result of a COINTELPRO operation, he has been imprisoned for 46 years for killing two FBI agents. Peltier participated in the AIM encampments on the Pine Ridge Reservation, where a 1975 shootout instigated by the FBI occurred.
Some 64 Native Americans, most with ties to AIM, were murdered. Their deaths went uninvestigated by the FBI. Evidence exonerating Peltier in the FBI case was withheld by the FBI. In his appeals, the government admitted it had no evidence he killed the two FBI agents, suppressed evidence proving this, and fabricated other “evidence.”
The other AIM members tried for the killings were exonerated in trial by reason of self-defense. One prosecutor admitted, “Your honor, we do not know who killed those agents. Further, we don’t know what participation, if any, Mr. Peltier had in it.”
Amnesty International, Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, the American Association of Jurists, and 54 Congresspeople, among many others, have called for his freedom. The film “Incident at Ogala,” produced by Robert Redford, and the best-selling book “In the Spirit of Crazy Horse: The Story of Leonard Peltier and the FBI’s War on the American Indian Movement” made the case widely known. More information can be found at the websites whoisleonardpeltier.info and Peltier’s Prison Writings.
Mutulu Shakur, of the Republic of New Afrika movement, participated in presentations to the UN on discrimination experienced by Black communities, and by 1970 a target of the FBI’s COINTELPRO infiltration. He helped free Assata Shakur from prison in 1979, and she now has a bounty on her head.
In 1988 he was convicted of conspiracy related to a 1981 robbery where a guard and two police officers were killed, and sentenced to 60 years. At no time did the evidence show that Mutulu Shakur killed anyone.
He was also convicted for aiding in the prison escape of Assata Shakur, who has asylum in Cuba.
At two trials the evidence indicated others were responsible for the deaths (one became a government witness in return for a sentencing deal). The remaining defendants were acquitted for the murder allegations. More information can be found at mutulushakur.com and the Jericho Movement.
Jamil Abdullah al-Amin (H. Rap Brown) was chairman of Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and a Black Panther leader. FBI boss J. Edgar Hoover himself named H. Rap Brown – along with Stokely Carmichael, Elijah Muhammad, and Maxwell Stanford – as targets of COINTELPRO.
In a October 1971 standoff with police, he was shot and seized, and spent five years in Attica prison. From 1992 to 1997, the FBI closely surveilled Al-Amin, generating pages of 44,000 documents. In 2000, two sheriffs came to Al-Amin’s store with a warrant for failure to appear in court for a case later thrown out. Both were shot and one killed. Al-Amin was sentenced to life without parole, even though Otis Jackson confessed to the shootings. More information is available at whathappened2rap.com.
Veronza Bowers was an organizer in the Black Panther Party in the late 1960s. He has been imprisoned for 49 years for the murder of a U.S. park ranger, on the word of two government informers. There were no eye witnesses and no other independent evidence. See more at veronza.org and prisonersolidarity.com.
Ed Poindexter and Mondo we Langa (who died in prison in 2016) were leaders of the Black Panthers in Omaha, Nebraska in the 1960s, and targets of COINTELPRO. Both men were given life sentences on charges of killing a policeman. They were convicted on the testimony of a teenager who was beaten by the police and threatened with the electric chair if he did not incriminate Poindexter and Mondo.
Amnesty International has identified them as “prisoners of conscience.” Poindexter has been imprisoned for 52 years. The book “FRAMED: J. Edgar Hoover, Cointelpro and the Omaha Two story” and the documentary “Ed Poindexter & Mondo We Langa” offer more information.
Kamau Sadiki (Freddie Hilton), was a member of the Black Panther Party and Black Liberation Army, and close to Assata Shakur. He has been imprisoned since 2002, for a 1971 murder of a police officer. Back in 1971, two witnesses failed to identify Kamau from a line-up, and there was no physical evidence that implicated Sadiki, so the case was closed.
In 2002 Kamau was re-arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment for the killing – only after he refused to work with the government to induce Assata Shakur to leave Cuba for another country, where they could seize her. See more at freekamau.com.
Joy Powell organized protests against police brutality and corruption, demanding accountability for its victims, which led her to be targeted by the Rochester Police Department. In 2006, Powell was convicted by an all-white jury and sentenced to 16 years for burglary and assault. No evidence or eyewitnesses linked her to the crime.
Alvaro Luna Hernandez (Xinachtli) is a Texas activist for Chicano rights and against police brutality. He was continually targeted by the police, who in 1996 attempted to arrest him on a spurious robbery charge that was later dismissed. The police used violence to arrest him, and Hernandez was sentenced to 50 years in prison on trumped up charges of threatening a sheriff while resisting arrest. More information can be found at freealvaro.net and prisonersolidarity.com.
more than half of all alleged terrorism cases involved the use of paid informants who were usually responsible for concocting the plots in collusion with the FBI. Sensationalistic media coverage of the most high-profile cases almost never made mention of the fact that these terrorist conspiracies were the work of FBI informants.
…
the FBI has built a network of more than 15,000 registered informants whose primary purpose is to infiltrate Muslim communities to create and facilitate phony terrorist plots so that the bureau can then claim it is winning the War on Terror … the FBI engaged in a witch hunt, convicting hundreds of Muslims on pretext terrorism charges, even though the government knew that the defendants were not in communication with international terrorists, had not injured a single person or piece of property, and had no means to carry out a terrorist attack even if they wanted to.
For the government to tell the truth about the convictions would have undercut their own prosecutions, and exposed hundreds of Muslim convictions for the sham they were. No matter how innocent the government knew the defendants to be, it apparently decided that they had to publicly treat the defendants as the worst of the worst, or lose the fear factor which they had used so effectively to enact harsher laws.
Holy Land 5: Shukri Abu-Baker and Ghassan Elashi of the Holy Land Foundation were each sentenced in 2008 to 65 years in prison. Three others were sentenced to 13-20 years: Mufid Abdulqader, Mohammad El-Mezain (released and deported to Turkey in 2022) and Abdulrahman Odeh (released in 2020). All were imprisoned for giving more than $12 million to charitable groups in Palestine which funded hospitals and schools and fed the poor and orphans.
The U.S. government said these groups were controlled by Hamas, which it lists as a terrorist organization, even though it is the elected government of Gaza. Some of these charitable groups still received U.S. funds through USAID as late as 2006.
Testimony was given in the case by an Israeli government agent whose identity and evidence was kept secret from the defense. This marked the first time in U.S. legal history that testimony has been allowed from an expert witness with no identity, therefore making them immune from perjury. The book “Injustice: The Story of the Holy Land Foundation Five” details the case.
Aafia Siddiqui is a U.S.-educated Pakistani neuroscientist who came to the United States in 1990, then returned to Pakistan with her family in 2002. In 2003, she was kidnapped by U.S. and Pakistani agents and held in Bagram Air Base through 2008. She was convicted of attempted murder of her U.S. interrogators in Afghanistan in 2008—though she was the person shot—and sentenced to 86 years in prison in Fort Worth, Texas. The weapon she allegedly fired in the interrogation room did not have her fingerprints, nor was there evidence the gun was fired.
Four British parliamentarians wrote to President Barack Obama that “there was an utter lack of concrete evidence tying Dr Siddiqui to the weapon she allegedly fired at a U.S. officer,” and that she should be freed immediately. Former Attorney General Ramsey Clark described Aafia’s plight as the “worst case of individual injustice I have ever witnessed.” More information is available at aafia.org and aafiamovement.com.
5. Arab/Muslim Prisoners Tortured and Locked Up Without Trial at Guantanamo
Since 2002, a total of 779 Muslim men and boys as young as 10 have been seized and held at Guantánamo, a military base in Cuban territory that is illegally occupied by the United States.
Washington claimed the prisoners are outside U.S. and international law, and thus do not have the rights of POWs. Nearly all of the prisoners were held without charge or trial. Many were tortured to produce a compliant “learned helplessness” – the goal of former U.S. slave-breaking.
Some detainees were even tortured to death. In 2003, 23 prisoners attempted suicide in a mass protest against their abuse.
The torture was directed by two psychologists, James E Mitchell and Bruce Jessen.
By any definition of political prisoner, most political prisoners in Cuba are at the U.S. military-torture center at Guantanamo.
Today there are still 36 prisoners, only 11 of whom have been charged with war crimes, while just two have been convicted – and by “military commissions,” which Amnesty International declared do not meet fair trial standards.
Another 20 have been approved for release but remain locked up. Five detainees are “forever prisoners,” held without charge or trial, but not to be released. The websites closeguantanamo.org and witnessagainsttorture.com and films The Report and The Mauritanian provide more information.
6. Women Fighting Patriarchal Sexist Violence
Nearly three in 10 women in the United States have endured male physical violence or stalking by a partner. Nearly one in five women are raped in their lifetime. Almost four women are killed a day by a male partner.
Half of all women murdered are killed by men they know intimately, yet hundreds of women are in prison for killing their abuser in self-defense.
The U.S. legal system treats these as individual cases, not for what it is: the systematic patriarchal violence against women as an oppressed group.
Marissa Alexander, a Black women from Florida, was sentenced to 20 years in 2013 for firing a warning shot inside her home to ward off her brutal husband, against whom she had an order of protection. Her affirmation that Florida’s “Stand Your Ground” law applied to her because she was defending herself was rejected. The same year, George Zimmerman was found not guilty of murdering Trayvon Martin based on that same law. National protests finally freed her in 2017.
Fran Thompson was an environmental activist in Nebraska. She has been in jail for 30 years for murder, sentenced to life without parole. She had defended herself, killing a man who was threatening to sexually assault her after he broke into her home. She was also targeted because of her environmental work, and was not allowed to plea self-defense.
Thompson had taken on the prosecutor and local government during her activism, having organized against two big projects, an egg factory and a nuclear waste facility, which would have brought the county big profits.
Maddesyn George has been imprisoned since July 2020. She was given a 6.5-year sentence for defending herself from sexual assault by a white man. She is a member of the Colville Confederated Tribes.
A number of environmental activists, animal rights supporters, and water protectors have challenged corporate abuses and have been jailed.
During the original so-called Green Scare, in the 1990s to early 2000s, the U.S. government sought to squash animal rights and environmental activism, acting in the interest of corporations that profit from damaging the earth.
A more recent series of jailings have specifically targeted people protesting against pipeline construction.
The following are political prisoners:
Joseph Mahmoud Dibee, a member of Earth Liberation Front and Animal Liberation Front was arrested in 2018 for his participation in setting fire to a slaughterhouse. Between 1995 and 2001, a group of Earth Liberation Front and Animal Liberation Front supporters caused more than $45 million in damages in a series of arsons. Dibee is imprisoned awaiting sentencing.
Marius Mason (formerly Marie Mason), a member of the Earth Liberation Front, was arrested in 2008 for an attack on a lab building at Michigan State University that was creating genetically modified organisms, with funding from mega-corporation Monsanto, the producer of Agent Orange.
Mason was also sentenced for damage to commercial logging equipment. No one was harmed by these actions. Mason’s 22 year-sentence is the longest yet for any of the Green Scare cases of those committing crimes against property of corporations.
Jessica Reznicek, of the Catholic Workers Movement, took action in 2016 to stop the environmentally destructive Dakota Access Pipeline by dismantling construction equipment and pipeline valves and setting fire to construction machinery. She would have been handed three years, but was sentenced to eight, with the added sentence for terrorism, even though no person was physically harmed.
Reznicek’s actions against private property were “calculated to influence or affect the conduct of government,” meaning a person who takes direct action against an energy company can be treated as an enemy of the state. Reznicek explained, “What we did do was fight a private corporation that has run rampant across our country seizing land and polluting our nation’s water supply.”
The United States Government Has Political Prisoners
This list belies the myth that the United States has no political prisoners.
Political prisoners have no shared ideology. Standing for justice does not necessarily mean that one defends their political views; it means that one demands their freedom because they have been unjustly incarcerated.
Many hundreds of thousands of people have been unjustly incarcerated in the United States, but in these cases, it is clear that they were detained because of their political beliefs and activism, and that by definition makes them political prisoners.