A Journal of Antifascism and Translation
Barricade seeks antifascist writings from around the world — from any time period, any genre, translated from any language into English.
The reading window closes July 31st.
See the Submissions page for more information!
Questions? Write to us at submissions [at] barricadejournal [dot] org
Want to pitch us original writing that aligns with our mission? Email us!
Illustration (c) Fernando Goyret
In early June, the Barricade editorial collective sat down together to look back — at our founding principles, the context in which the project began, and the work we had in mind to do — in order to take stock of the present and the work we feel is still to be done. The “autointerview” format we borrowed from the artist Lucas Samaras as a way of articulating, interrogating, updating, and affirming the frame we set for our project and ourselves. We are sharing this experiment here, with the intention of showing to our readers our own seams and outlines.
The Barricade editorial collective includes: Amy Obermeyer, Elizabeth Benninger, Grace Holleran, Jessie Fredlund, Lauren K. Wolfe, and Zach Rivers.
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Barricade mission statement:
Barricade is a platform for the publication of writing against fascism and authoritarianism and other forms of domination and control.
We believe that power functions in part by controlling the movement of information.
We seek to keep information moving by re-presenting it in translation.
We believe that power functions in part by establishing the illusion of transparency.
We believe that literature and its translation obstruct that illusion.
A barricade is a makeshift form of opposition.
A barricade shows its seams and outlines.
***
Question, for the founding editors: Looking at the mission statement above, written in January 2017, how would you describe the project’s original motivation?
Amy: The whole idea, at least for me, was making it possible for people with different linguistic capabilities to share things that felt really important in a moment of increasing fascism and authoritarianism. And it seemed important also to do it collectively and collaboratively, framing translation as a political project. And I think, for me, probably for many of us, it was also important to feel like we were doing something that was within our individual specializations, something that would make our work feel important to the world.
Elizabeth: I like what you’re saying, Amy, especially about thinking of translation as a political project, because I think it’s also important to flag that this project came out of us being in graduate school and having varying degrees of frustration with the apolitical or non-political nature of a lot of work that was being done around translation and otherwise. So this was a way that we as grad students could contribute something that was very explicitly political—unapologetically so—while also being very attentive to the aesthetic questions behind the pieces we were publishing.
Zach: Yeah, and thinking about the specific context in which this project was germinated, there was just so much discussion of untranslatability happening at the moment. And it’s an important idea, or a useful phrase, but it’s also part of what felt so apolitical. The moment may have felt for many like this big exception, an untranslatable moment [with the election of Trump in 2016]. And so it felt really interesting and important for us to find, to solicit and translate pieces of antifascist writing from different time periods. That’s for me an important and interesting aspect of the work we’ve done: to make a resource for the moment.
Lauren: Yeah, I agree. And for me, it felt really exciting to have something practical to do. Especially given the context that originated our work or brought us together, that context being so apolitical, disaffected, sort of navel-gazey and theoretical. It felt really good to have something to do. And to have the thing we were doing involve material and conversations that were coming to us from outside our own community. And that we were creating context. That whatever exceptionally strange thing was happening in the United States was actually not all that exceptionally strange, not historically, not world-historically.
Continue reading “Autointerview: the Barricade Editorial Collective interviews itself”by Jazra Khaleed
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
13.
what happens to a bird when it can no longer fly in its natural habitat
when did stones become the comrades of sunken boys
these people are still smiling somehow
if we just let a bunch of sharks loose in the aegean they’d sink their boats for sure
tousle-haired girl-child turning in death’s dream
honest blood out for blood
a mother who lost her three children, the youngest 8 months old and still nursing, and the others 2 and 3 years old
wearing heavy fragrance to hide the smell of blood
how many hands it takes to staunch a wound
rows of olive trees that lean into the road like ghosts
war smoked his way into our collective dream
the fires have begun
the little syrian girl thought the camera was a gun and immediately “surrendered”
they shoot kids in the knees and leave them for dead
#syria#syria#cирия#συρία#eyesonsyria a massacre in deir al zour 19/10/2012
by Jazra Khaleed
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
10.
now you’re tweeting the coast guard’s sinking ships + elytis your aegean stinks like greece
a neverending tragedy in
o amaranth sea I yearn to hear your whispers
how many dead bodies get you the nobel
news: turks insist that coast guard attempting to divert migrants in the aegean
replying to @primeministergr let’s not forget how many people drowned in the aegean because of when you said that there are no borders at sea not to mention how many people got stuck here even though they wanted to get to europe
basking in the locals’ genuine hospitality
frontex documents confirm what refugees have long since claimed: the coast guard fired at boats carrying #refugeesgr
if we just let a bunch of sharks loose in the aegean they’d sink their boats for sure
die maggots die
the local hospitality and the breathtaking scenery are what memories are made of
if there’s love in your heart you can only give love #refugeesgr
that’s a good way to die
where love stops her ships
this shard of the story will never be told
by Jazra Khaleed
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
7.
twitter was quick to react to a video posted by the associated press
battling enormous waves all morning having lost their bearings
these people are still smiling somehow
their hair unravels deep into the future
to locate and intercept them while they’re still in turkish waters
new dogma anticipates
a well-preserved necropolis
never once deviating from the interception playbook they’ve adopted
standing by as women and children drowned before their eyes
with the help of a slide show high ranking members of the coast guard described how events unfolded on the night of the tragedy
gulet type schooners remain a fantastic option
so they can get to europe before the roads close, a possibility they are well aware of
the screaming and crying touched even the hardest
is someone really forcing them to throw kids on a boat on a cold winter night and drown
if we just let a bunch of sharks loose in the aegean they’d sink their boats for sure
by Jazra Khaleed
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
4.
calmness not silence reigns supreme
the buzz of a wandering bee the squawk of seagulls
the waves frothy like lambs on a hillside
patient urns on aegean window sills
aegean people operate on a more humble level
basking in the locals’ genuine hospitality
they don’t even expect anything in return for a hello
a sense of calm, and an eternal conversation
nonstop fun and relaxation
the local hospitality and the breathtaking scenery are what memories are made of
a place that has withstood the test of time unchanged
injecting a fresh sense of optimism and camaraderie into the greeks’ eternal maritime adventure
so that local residents can monitor who gets to travel
they come from syria, afghanistan, and eritrea
according to the german press
by Jazra Khaleed
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
1.
o amaranth sea I yearn to hear your whispers
to the three frolicking dolphins
flitting through the blossoming waves
as the eternal sea crashes
a bat tangled up in the hair of the west
the inland waves are no less giant
the body’s touch is no less deep
girls please don’t
their hair unravels deep into the future
half-sunken boats
on the beach the skeletons
patient urns on aegean window sills
cliff statues sculpted by centuries of wind and water
this jagged natural beauty seems unparalleled
boggles the minds of sea junkies and flavor chasers alike
Revolving Doors, a poem in 36 parts, follows, with some deviations, the structure of Nanni Balestrini’s Blackout (Rome: DeriveApprodi, 2001).
Barricade is publishing the first 16 poems in the series on our web forum Ramparts throughout the month of August; the full 36-poem sequence will be available as a print zine in September 2024.
Revolving Doors will be also be featured in THE LIGHT THAT BURNS US, an expanded anthology of Khaleed’s work forthcoming from World Poetry Books on October 10. Pre-order at worldpoetrybooks.com.
Below is a list of sources used in this cut-up and the pattern of their usage.
A) Odysseas Elytis, The first sun (Athens: Ikaros, 1996).
B) Giorgos Stamatopoulos, “Aegean sea,” www.efsyn.gr, 2 February 2020; Heinrich Hall, “Winds blowing,” www.kathimerini.gr, 30 June 2018; “The islands of the Northwestern Aegean,” www.ελληνικανησια.com; Peris Halatsis “Aegean: the beauty of the islands on the non profit line,” www.now24.gr; “Eastern Aegean,” www.athinorama.gr; “Maritime tourism,” www.aegeanislands.gr; “Poetry about the Aegean,” www.aegeanislands.gr
C) Articles from www.kathimerini.gr. Giannis Souliotis, “Patrols block off Aegean,” 6 May 2020; Giannis Souliotis “Concerns of migrants ‘disembarking’ on the islands,” 14 April 2020; Giannis Souliotis, “Migrant crisis: Interceptions curtailing entries,” 14 March 2020; Giannis Souliotis, “Turkish border patrol announces it will ban migrants from attempting to cross the Aegean,” 7 March 2020; Giannis Souliotis, “A culture of ‘aggressive surveillance’ in the Coast Guard,” 4 March 2020; Giannis Souliotis, “As of yesterday, Coast Guard and Police on alert,” 29 February 2020; Giannis Souliotis, “Migrants causing chaos on the islands,” 11 August 2015; Giorgos S. Bourdaras, “Coast Guard apologizes for Farmakonisi,” 30 January 2014; Giannis Elafros, “Shocking accounts from refugees regarding Farmakonisi,” 24 January 2014.
D) Tweets posted between 1 March 2015 and 1 September 2018 with the keywords “Aegean” and “immigrants.”
E) All poems by Arab-American poets published in Teflon. Zeina Alsous, “In Paris, an Arab Girl Enters the Museum,” no. 24, 2021, p. 61. Safia Elhillo, “Application for the Position of Abdelhalim Hafez’s Girl”, no. 22, 2020, p. 92; Hala Alyan, “Maktoub,” no. 14, 2016, pp. 86-87; Safia Elhillo, “Vocabulary,” ibid., p. 97; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “Reunion,” no. 10, 2014, p. 89; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “Shards,” ibid., pp. 92-93; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “Olive Trees,” ibid., pp. 92-93; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “This Is Not a Massacre,” ibid., p. 96; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “Arguments,” ibid., p. 97; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “These Words,” ibid., pp. 98-99; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “The Coffin Maker Speaks,” ibid., pp. 100-101; Lisa Suhair Majaj, “Practicing Loving Kindness,” ibid., pp.102-103; Mohja Kahf, “Voyager Dust,” no. 9, 2013, p. 9; Mohja Kahf, “The Cherries,” ibid., pp. 10-12; Mohja Kahf, “The Fires Have Begun,” ibid., p. 15; Mohja Kahf, “The Marvelous Women” ibid., pp. 20-21; Mohja Kahf, “Men Kill Me,” ibid., p. 24; Suheir Hammad, “First Writing Since,” no. 8, 2013, p. 8; Suheir Hammad, “Dead Woman,” ibid., p.10; Suheir Hammad, “Children of Stone,” ibid., p. 15; Suheir Hammad, “Broken and Beirut,” ibid., pp. 16-17; Hind Shoufani, “Headlines,” no. 6, 2012, pp. 92-93.
F) Tweets posted between 1 March 2015 and 1 September 2018 with the keywords “Syria” and “immigrants.”
G) Various, Nearly invisible: the illegalization of labor as official immigration policy, Athens: Antifa Scripta, 2013.
Photo by Silvia Tsompanaki
Greece’s Aegean Sea, dotted with islands, is one of the world’s most popular tourist destinations. It is also a maritime mass grave. Over the last two decades, thousands of migrants have drowned attempting to sail across the border into Greece. Indeed, it is the Greek state, always attuned to geopolitical fluctuations and largely motivated by European Union funding, that controls the flow of migration, often opening up the border, ever so slightly, before tightly sealing it again.
“Pushbacks” are common. This is when the Hellenic Coast Guard, or groups of non-state actors who patrol the Aegean, intercept migrant boats approaching island beaches, often sinking them. Any migrant who does manage to reach the shores of Greece is incarcerated, forced to live in appalling conditions—in what are, essentially, concentration camps—beaten, and used as cheap labor. Every year, Greece receives hundreds of millions of Euros from the European Union for the express purpose of continued border surveillance and migrant-camp upkeep. These funds are dispersed throughout Greece and trickle down into every corner of Greek society, from the military, to police, to camp staff and provisioners, to local employers who exploit migrant labor.
In the 1990s, the Eastern Bloc collapsed and Greece became a host country for migrants, mostly from within Europe. Today, most of the migrants who arrive in Greece are from the Middle East and Africa. Since then, however, Greece has maintained a “revolving door” policy toward migration, a policy that dictates that migrants are illegal and thus devalues their labor. Migrants in Greece are deliberately left undocumented and work for meager wages in dehumanizing workplaces until they are eventually rounded up by police, beaten, incarcerated, and deported. Many deportees return, and the process of illegalization and exploitation begins anew.
This is what these poems are about. They are from a longer piece of mine titled Revolving Doors, a cut-up in which excerpts from poems, tweets, journalistic articles, and an antifascist publication about the illegalization of migrant labor are spliced together, following a specific sequence/structure that is outlined at the end, alongside a list of the texts that were used for the construction of the work. The verses sometimes complement and sometimes contradict one another. They sometimes embrace and sometimes push back against one another. Without warning, the prosodic flow is halted, exposing the violence of Greek state policy and the culpability of Greek society.
As a whole, Revolving Doors consists of thirty-six poems of fifteen lines each. The first sixteen are presented here in Barricade’s Ramparts web forum.* The remaining twenty poems are about migrant revolts in the camps, a proud multiethnic proletariat, antifascist demonstrations, and the actions of locals and migrants alike against the state and the bosses:
without a moment’s notice the new proletarian barbarians might appear at the city’s main gate
after a long, terrible, historic travail
creating something entirely novel and unpredictable
because the future, from the working class point of view, does not exist
Revolving Doors is also featured in my 2020 book But Is This Poetry?, published in Greece by Teflon Press. The English translation will be included in The Light That Burns Us, another book of my poems that will be published in November 2024 by World Poetry Books. I am grateful to Jason Rigas for his translation and to Barricade for publishing the English version.
Jazra Khaleed
June 2024
translated from the Greek by Jason Rigas
*The first 16 poems will be published serially on Ramparts throughout the month of August; the complete 36-poem sequence will be available as a print zine in September 2024.
