Since
September 9, thousands of prisoners in at least twenty-four states
across the country have joined a series of strikes and protests
demanding “an end to prison slavery.” The wave of strikes, now
entering its fifth week, was timed to coincide with the forty-fifth
anniversary of the 1971 Attica Prison uprising, which left
twenty-nine inmates and ten hostages dead after a brutal raid by
state troopers.
Heather
Ann Thompson’s Blood
in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971
and Its Legacy is the first comprehensive history of this pivotal
civil rights struggle and the lengths to which the state went to
repress it. Here, Thompson discusses how the story came to light, and
what it means for prison organizing today. —Editors
Tim
Barker: This
book is the product of many years of research. Do you remember when
you first started thinking about writing a history of Attica, and why
you were drawn to it?
Heather
Ann Thompson: Probably all the way back in 2001 or 2002. My first
book was coming out, and I was thinking about the importance of
writing civil rights history that we thought we knew, but we didn’t
really know very much about, and Attica looms large as one of those
events. Everyone seems to know the name “Attica,” but in terms of
the details of what had brought 1,300 men together—the most
marginal men, because they were behind bars—to stand up for human
rights, I’m not sure we knew that story. More importantly, I
couldn’t figure out why there had been so little on the fact that
this particular protest had ended with such extraordinary bloodshed.
So I decided to pursue the book primarily as a civil rights story,
not really knowing much about prisons, and the book changed my life
for sure. First of all, it became a thirteen-year journey to actually
research and write the book because of the state barring access to
public records. But it also made me understand how critically
important prisons were to every facet of American society.
Barker:
You say that one reason you found out that the book hadn’t been
written yet is that the state had gone to such pains to prevent
people from accessing the records. I was curious to hear your
thoughts about the recent announcement, by the New York attorney
general’s office and the New York State archives, that they’re
creating a new website showcasing documents relating to Attica.
Thompson:
That’s incredibly interesting because that announcement came a
week, perhaps two weeks after the book was released. There was an
enormous amount of media scrutiny over the issue of the records in
the wake of the book being published. There’s already been pretty
sustained pressure on the part of the hostage survivors to get these
records open. So two weeks after the book is out, this website goes
live and they get a lot of PR fanfare that they’re going to finally
release the Attica records. What they’ve actually said, if you look
at their website, is that they are going to release publicly
available documents. That’s not the problem. The problem is not the
documents that are already public. You know, these are all fairly
available. What we need to see is the state’s own records, what it
was doing at Attica, what it did in the aftermath of Attica, and what
it did in the thirty years of litigation to really deny that anything
had happened at Attica. And my attempt to search on their website has
not turned up any of those documents. So I think we are sort of
getting a bit of a bait and switch here.
Barker:
Getting back to Attica, we remember it as a pretty singular
event, in part because the outcome was so violent. But it was part of
a much bigger wave of prison unrest, both nationwide and in New York
state. Could you talk a little bit about that context that people
might not know behind the explosion at Attica?
Thompson:
Well, first of all, there have been protests in American prisons
since their inception. People who are confined behind bars—human
beings who are confined in cages—invariably, inevitably, and
historically have erupted when conditions become too brutal, and when
what is really at stake is their very humanity. So there is a long
history of prison uprisings. But in the 1960s and early 1970s, there
was a particular attention on them, and perhaps an intensification of
them, because there were also numerous protests happening on
city streets, and there was a civil rights moment where people felt
that speaking out actually might make a difference. That was no less
true behind bars than it was out in city streets. So across the
nation, but certainly in the state of New York, there were a number
of really important uprisings, the first being in 1970 in the New
York City jail system, and then in Auburn prison right before Attica.
So there have been many historically, but particularly around the
time of Attica.
Barker:
And were they able to win any concessions in those earlier
strikes?
Thompson:
Absolutely. In all of these uprisings, there has been a lessening
of abusive conditions, at least initially. Even at Attica, prior to
the uprising, there was a very important strike in the metal shop
that netted some important gains in the increase in pay, for example.
The problem is that the state’s ability to come back with such
repression has compromised many of those gains. Its ability to do
that is dependent on the fact that prisons, despite the fact that
they are public institutions, have this extraordinary ability to
resist inquiry from the outside. They are able to commit abuses and
atrocities because they have been able to remain sealed from public
inquiry. And it’s an extraordinary thing that they are allowed to
do that, considering that they are funded at taxpayer expense and
that they are charged with keeping the public safe.
Barker:
So you mentioned the strike in the metal shop. The Attica
uprising in September 1971 was not exactly a strike, but the
prisoners at Attica were all workers—that’s what they did every
day. Can you talk about the role that prison labor played in their
grievances?
Thompson:
Prison labor was fundamental to the rebellion, because everyone
understood that not only were they being held in these repressive
conditions and underfed and mistreated, they were also being forced
to labor, and that labor was exploitative. That the institution
actually made items that it was then able to sell to other state
institutions, that the prisoners themselves were not given the choice
whether to do that labor, and that their labor was being extracted in
a way that they likened to slavery—these were some of the
prisoners’ fundamental grievances. So one of the most important
Attica demands was an end to slave labor. That theme has always been
there in American history. Going back to Southern prison plantations,
resisting labor was always one of the most important ways to resist
prison oppression writ large.
Barker:
Besides the violence, another reason that Attica is so famous is that
the national news media were allowed in the yard, which you say is
the first time Americans got an inside look at a prison rebellion.
How did media coverage help create possibilities for the prisoners,
and how did it limit them if in any way?
Thompson:
That’s a really great question. I think people assume that it’s
not all that important whether or not the media is allowed to cover
prison protests, because at the end of the day, the institution is
going to do what the institution wants to do. But the truth of the
matter is that we would not hear what prisoners really needed at
Attica, nor would we have any clue as to how badly things had gone
once the state ended their protest, had it not been for the media. So
the media’s presence during a prison protest was central back in
1971, and it remains central today. That’s the upside—in no small
part, the reason I was able to write the book is that the media
provided me a tremendous look at the inside of that rebellion. The
downside was that, as we see today, the media is all too willing to
believe the state’s side of the story. So when the media steps
outside in front of Attica and says the prisoners have killed the
hostages, that utter lie goes out on the front page of the New York
Times, the LA Times, every AP paper in between, and that was a
devastating event. It really fueled this carceral state that we’ve
been in the process of building these last forty years. The media
played a direct and devastating role in that as well.
Barker:
As you allude to there, Attica can be seen as the end to an era
of sixties protests, but also as the beginning of the kind of mass
incarceration we have today.
Thompson:
It is absolutely both. It is remarkable evidence of the power of
human rights activism and this irrepressible demand for justice. But
at the same time, the lies told about what had happened at Attica is
the emotional engine that will drive the creation of the punitive
carceral state that we have today. The result of that is that prisons
today are worse than they were in 1971. It’s a deep and really
painful irony. Attica itself, the actual institution, is slightly
less overcrowded today than it was in 1971—and that’s only a
recent development—but it is clearly more punitive. People do far
more time in the box, people do many more years behind bars, and
certainly the evidence that we’ve been seeing coming out of Attica
suggests that physical abuse is rampant. And that is true across the
country. That said, it is very interesting to me that on this
forty-fifth anniversary of Attica, while we are surrounded by the
oppressive legacy, we are also seeing the importance of that the
other legacy, which is that prisoners, no matter where they are, and
no matter how repressive the conditions, still insist on speaking
out.
Barker:
To turn to the strike that was launched on the anniversary
(September 9), it’s been fairly difficult to find out exactly
what’s going on inside. Do you have a general impression of the
strike and its place in post-Attica activism?
Thompson:
Yeah, I am delighted to see the journalistic contention on this
strike. Much of the mainstream media has dismissed this as either it
didn’t happen, or if it did, it was a few lone renegade prisoners
trying to make a ruckus, or even that it was some pipe dream of the
left on the outside. Attica shows us that, not only can we not trust
what state officials say is happening in these institutions, but that
it is entirely likely that there is resistance, and that if we are
really interested in finding this resistance, we have to go to the
source. We have to go to the families of the incarcerated and ask
what is happening to their children, we have to go to the local town
and talk to the guards and ask what is happening behind those walls,
and we have to talk to the incarcerated whenever we can.
My
limited access indicates that there have been lots of prisoners who
have resisted work in protest, and that there have also been many
prisons that have utterly erupted—with 400 prisoners joining the
strike in Florida, another 400 in Michigan, to name a few. And not
only that, but they are acutely aware that what they are doing is
protesting. Despite what corrections officials are saying, this is
not gang warfare, this is not just chaos, it is absolutely an act of
protest. And I would say further that even corrections officials are
now admitting that that’s exactly what’s happening. They call it
a riot, but they acknowledge that this disruption is happening. I
hope that the media starts putting more attention on what is
happening to the prisoners where we know that there has been
interruption. For example, in Florida or Michigan, I shudder to
imagine the repression that is going on behind those walls right now.
Again, the only reason we know what happened after Attica is because
the media and the lawyers kept banging on the doors and demanding to
be let in. So there’s a lot going on, and I think we have a
responsibility to watch out for the people inside now.
Barker:
One
of the things that you draw out really well in the book is showing
how prison guards at Attica were, though certainly not as vulnerable
as the prisoners, also very concerned about their safety, and that
many of them were aware of the risks that they were running
themselves. It seems like there’s been some of that in the current
wave of strikes. There were reports out of the Holman prison in
Alabama that there’s been high prison guard absenteeism, especially
since a guard was stabbed last month.* What
role does understanding the experience of prison guards have to play
in thinking about this most recent strike?
Thompson:
I think it’s critically important. People are often quite surprised
when they read my book and find that it does in fact talk about
guards as workers, and that it talks about this as an issue that’s
important to people who work in corrections as well. I received an
email recently from a corrections officer in a county facility, and
it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever read. He read the
book and said, “Look, you know, it’s even worse now, and we know
it. . . . We see the abuse and we see the pain, and we know that this
is not sustainable and that it’s terrible.” Guards see horrible
things, and the overcrowding and the abuses and the fact that they
are understaffed makes them terrified, which in turn makes them
dangerous. People who are scared are very self-protective, and they
often will be proactively violent to somehow protect themselves. So
it is really important we understand prisons not just as places of
caging and confinement, but as abusive workplaces as well.
Barker:
Thinking about prison guards brings up the question of labor
unions, which represent lots of the prison guards and other people in
the correctional industry. They’ve been pretty wary of talking
about prison labor, much less the possibility of organizing prison
laborers. You’ve written at some length about the importance of
incarceration in the history of the postwar trade union movement.
Could you talk a little bit about that, and if you think there’s a
possibility for some more productive engagement between American
unions and prison activism?
Thompson:
I feel like a bit of a loner sometimes beating this drum, as
someone who’s very interested in prison activism but also very
interested in labor activism and how those two are intimately
connected. We need to be aware that the first racialized mass
incarceration, which was in the wake of the Civil War, was also
fundamentally about forced labor—the forced labor of
African-American prisoners. There were many paths to ending convict
leasing, but one of the most important was organized labor. It was
the fact that people on the outside understood that when you hold
some people in bondage and force them to labor, you actually harm the
broader society. You harm working people on the outside as well. That
realization was really important, because it helped to build a
coalition to end slave labor in prisons.
Fast
forward to today: it’s very important that we understand prison
reform not just as a human rights issue, but also as a labor issue.
We have historical precedents for this, and we must continue to think
of it in this way. The good news is that there are certain trade
unions that have taken a stand against mass incarceration. I was at
the AFL-CIO convention two years ago, for example, and I was startled
by the number of times that the president, Rich Trumka, took a very
firm position against mass incarceration. I’m also well aware that
prison guard unions are in a very tortured position, as are police
unions, as to how to position themselves vis-à-vis a reduction of
prisons and incarceration in general. I’m not minimizing the thorny
issues that trade unions face, but it is imperative that they
understand that this is a working-class issue. Not just for guards or
for the police, but because mass incarceration renders huge swaths of
our society permanently unemployable.
Barker:
The recent strike has been distinctive in that it’s put a heavy
emphasis on labor. There’s a range of demands, but the most central
revolve around unpaid or underpaid prison labor, and the tactic
that’s been adopted is one of work stoppages as opposed to hunger
strikes. How much leverage do prisoners have by withholding their
labor?
Thompson:
I think the question you’re asking really touches a nerve
because academics are deeply divided about whether or not prison
labor matters or not to the broader economy. My position is that it
matters a great deal. Whether or not it is a substantial percentage
of our GDP, that is not the question. The question is: does the
ability to force some people to labor for free have a wage dampening
effect on the free world, and is it exploitative, and does it take
real jobs out of the free world and put them in a slave-like
workplace? To me those answers are unequivocally “yes.” For that
reason, prisoners have a great deal of power because they have the
ability to refuse to let businesses do whatever they want with their
labor force: not pay them, not allow them sick days, and not allow
them basic worker rights. So in that sense they have a lot of power,
and they could cost companies a lot of money. But implicit in your
question is, “Will they really make a difference?” And
unfortunately, we know that the price that they pay for their labor
organizing is far higher than anyone in the outside world right now.
That makes it a very steep struggle.
Barker:
In reading your book I was struck that the people at Attica,
despite being insurrectionaries, have a somewhat reformist approach.
They issued demands that it would have been, in theory, quite
possible for the state to meet. And it seemed like one of the things
that made that was possible was that they had allies on the outside,
or at least people willing to relay their demands to the public,
including elected officials and a few judges who were sympathetic. Do
you think that is the case today, or that it could be the case in the
near future?
Thompson:
I think it is the case. In every moment in American history, there
are always allies to struggles like this. But I think that we need to
be careful about how we look at this. When we look back in history,
we look back on moments like Attica with a degree of nostalgia—for
how much support the Attica brothers had, or that there were elected
officials willing to go to bat to have the truth told. Indeed in this
book there are heroes that did exactly that. But we need not be
nostalgic. We need to remember that this all took a great deal of
time. Attica comes at the tail end of massive protests in the streets
and in prisons that had been going on for about twenty years. It was
the culmination of a lot of consciousness-raising. It was the
culmination of a lot of people who were forced to see what was
happening, sometimes right in front of their faces.
I
feel very strongly that we are in that moment again. Five years ago
when I was trying to do policy work and advocacy work around prison
reform, it was like trying to speak out in an empty park. There was
so little traction. Then when Ferguson erupts, and Baltimore erupts,
and Chicago erupts, finally we start to get politicians being forced
to wake up, and judges being forced to wake up, and police
departments being forced to wake up. And now prisons are erupting. So
I think we are in the beginning of a very important shift, and I
think that we need not be nostalgic for those moments of yesteryear,
because I think we’re actually in the process of building a new
such moment.
>> The article above is by Tim Barker, and is reprinted from Dissent magazine.
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