Der Text beginnt mit der Räumung der Schienenblockade bei der Ende Gelände Aktionam 28.10.2018 und beschreibt massive körperliche und sexuell übergriffige Gewalt bei der Festnahme durch die Polizei. Wir veröffentlichen den Original-Text auf englisch.
This text ist beginning with the eviction of the railway blockade at Ende Gelände at 28.10.2018 and is describing massive violence and sexual humilation by the police.
Putting into words a story is a good way to recover and not forget what happened. With my testimony, I hope to raise awareness and avoid the history to repeat itself. It’s not relevant to know my name, in which „finger“ I was, or what I ate the morning of the action to understand my story. I was just a normal person participating to the Ende Gelände
Where and when should I start? I will begin at the moment when I considered my experience violent. Everything has started on Sunday at lunchtime on this awesome blockade of the coal trail track. I was in the mind-set since the beginning of the action to keep the blockade as long as possible, disturbing as much as I could coal strategic points, refusing to leave or cooperate with the police by using pacifist resistance. Among everything I learned from my friends in the climate movement: don’t make it easier for the police. Indeed, the police violently evicted the last brave activists blocking the trail track, twisting our nose, ears, wrists and escorted us in a special RWE train wagon for workers.
We waited 4 hours in this wagon, without food, with a complete darkness outside in order to be deported by a special bus, which was supposed to bring the group to a police office nearby. When the bus finally arrived, most people collaborated with the police, getting on the bus. Still determined and seating strong, I refused to listen authority, expecting them to carry me into the bus. Clearly the action was not over for me. As I was struggling with them, they treated me really bad to dissuade people to resist.
They were around 5 men cops carrying me out of the wagon, squeezing me hardly. At the last moment instead of throwing my body in pain in the bus, they turned left, threw me on the ground and mobilised me with their feet and hands. At this point, I felt I was vulnerable; I was alone, weaker without the group, with no trusted eyewitness to encourage me to fight. I left my group and I wouldn’t be with them anymore.
I was naively struggling but they were responding with more and more violence. Suddenly, they put me up, hit “accidentally” my head against their car, took my two sweaters off and broke my necklace. All that clearly intended to provoke me. Then a policewoman started to lift up the other layers I had, touched my breasts, pressing them under my bra, lighting them with her light. She repeated the same humiliating process for my sex, unbuttoning my trousers, lighting my sex in front of many policemen.
They attached my hands with a plastic handcuff, tightening it so much that it cut my skin at some places. My piercings on my ears were bleeding from crushing my head against the police car. Then, they threw me into a police van; I was alone, freezing, still under strong adrenaline. I had some time to think into this van, what was the legality or the purpose of what just happened, except to humiliate me?
Around 11pm, they brought me to the police office. I had a complete body check by two policewomen. They found the memory card of my camera hidden on me. From now, they still have it refusing giving it back to me. I was brought to an individual cell, with still no water or food. They also took their time to take off those handcuffs that were hurting my wrists. Right after, I asked them why I was here and what were the legal reasons to keeping me in custody. To what they simply replied: “because you are a criminal”.
Half an hour later, I had a first fingerprint test, and pictures taken of my face. However, they were really pissed off because of the paint on my face and the glue on my damaged fingerprint. They brought me back to my cell, gave me a glass of water, little piece of bread with spread and a small blanket that was not even covering my feet. I was now able to call the legal team.
Lateron the night, they took me again for a second check in. I had the chance to stay one hour with them. Their English was ridiculous, I did not have any interpreter, which was illegal. They tried hardly to clean my fingerprint and they took many pictures of my face under difference angles. They weighed me, measured me, took the size of my feet, reporting the colour of my eyes, the number of piercing I had, my haircut style, my skin colour, describingit carefully and writing down every physical details of my body. I even got the royal privilege to be undressed again by an unknown policewoman to see if I had any tattoo. Better not to be chaste!
I came back to my cell and dropped from exhaustion. Monday morning I had this same small piece of bread and I called again the legal team, they reassured me, saying that their lawyer is working on my case. I have never seen my lawyer but I could hear from my cell powerful solidarity songs from my friends just standing outside of the police station. Eventually, I got released around lunchtime on Monday, after having been
deprived of my liberty for at least 12 hours.
Well… middle finger to RWE, the state, the police, I am out and safe now, standing strong. It was an intense weekend, walking many hours, sleeping in the cold, facing police with tear gas, water canons, horses, and batons. This was not easy, but they cannot evict a movement. Our weapon is to be together, driven by a deep conviction that another word is possible. Because, together, we are powerful! Together we are truly unstoppable!
This experience made me stronger, angrier and more empowered and determined to fight than ever. If I have to end it with few words, I would say: see you next year!