In the US, graffiti is usually considered a bad thing. It's vandalism, it's rebellion, and it's completely inappropriate in most settings. There are places where it's expected (skate parks), but for the most part it's pretty offensive. When I cross a state line and see graffiti (I'm looking at you, New Jersey), I can't say I feel very welcome.
While the attitude here isn't exactly pro-graffiti, it's more common and acceptable. I've seen all sorts of graffiti, no matter what city. Sometimes it's playful, and sometimes it's serious. We'll start with the playful.
While I was doing my travel throughout this continent (late December, early January), Israel had launched a military campaign on the Gaza strip. Over 1,000 people died, mostly Palestinians. Several nonmilitary targets were destroyed. While I understand the need for self-defense, I don't think it's offensive to say it's a bit extreme. It was met with a great amount of protest on this side of the world.
This was in Barcelona, slightly more than a week into the conflict. A few weeks later, in Venice, I saw this:
Free Palestine, Free Israel.
Free Palestine, Free Israel.
I think that sums up the problem of conflicts like this. Both sides are stuck in this conflict and it's oppressing them both.
But it's not just international situations that had topical graffiti. Shortly before I went to Athens, the police had shot a fifteen year old boy. The reaction was extreme, resulting in violent protests and the destruction of numerous structures. It went beyond Athens, and affected the entirety of Greece. When I arrived, most of it had ceased but unrest was really strong. I got to see the aftermath.
I think this piece of graffiti summed up what people felt like in late December:
I think nonviolence is an admiral protest quality. If you want something changed, it should be done passively. Anger and violence tend to be the reason people want things to be different anyways.
One of the best examples of nonviolent protest was in Czechoslovakia in the 1980s. The fall of communism here resulted from the Velvet Revolution, a series of protests that essentially reformed the oppressive system without any need for violence. It's one of the most civil government reforms I've ever heard of, and it shows the potential for progress without bloodshed.
A great symbol of the nonviolent protest was the John Lennon wall of Prague, which started in 1988. It was painted over, but it just kept getting more graffiti anyways. It's very ideological, and it's been commercialized a bit these days (there's a John & George restaurant nearby with ridiculously high prices for Prague), but you have to admire the beauty of the place.
But it's not just international situations that had topical graffiti. Shortly before I went to Athens, the police had shot a fifteen year old boy. The reaction was extreme, resulting in violent protests and the destruction of numerous structures. It went beyond Athens, and affected the entirety of Greece. When I arrived, most of it had ceased but unrest was really strong. I got to see the aftermath.
This is in downtown Athens, Greece.
I think this piece of graffiti summed up what people felt like in late December:
I think nonviolence is an admiral protest quality. If you want something changed, it should be done passively. Anger and violence tend to be the reason people want things to be different anyways.
One of the best examples of nonviolent protest was in Czechoslovakia in the 1980s. The fall of communism here resulted from the Velvet Revolution, a series of protests that essentially reformed the oppressive system without any need for violence. It's one of the most civil government reforms I've ever heard of, and it shows the potential for progress without bloodshed.
A great symbol of the nonviolent protest was the John Lennon wall of Prague, which started in 1988. It was painted over, but it just kept getting more graffiti anyways. It's very ideological, and it's been commercialized a bit these days (there's a John & George restaurant nearby with ridiculously high prices for Prague), but you have to admire the beauty of the place.
When Obama was here (yes, I went), he spoke about nuclear disarmament. If it can be done, it would be awesome. That doesn't mean it's easy. Philosophically speaking, I try to define myself as a pacifist, or at least someone who tries to pursue pacifism. While I know most people would say it's a dream, I'll justify it with a quote from the president in that speech: "When we fail to pursue peace, then it stays forever beyond our grasp." If we're not looking to stop war, how will it ever end?
