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Into the Heart of Resistance

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The Take | Andres D’Elia<br />

The Take | Andres D’Elia<br />

The Take | Andres D’Elia<br />

Noelle Elia is a street-wise<br />

syn<strong>the</strong>sist and purveyor <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

positive. Au courant: doc on a<br />

Toronto 'human landmark' and<br />

personal hero named Franco.<br />

following rumours <strong>of</strong> an emerging worker co-op<br />

movement. This was not armchair activism—<strong>the</strong>y<br />

moved down <strong>the</strong>re for 8 months and immersed<br />

<strong>the</strong>mselves in <strong>the</strong> upheaval.<br />

“This is Argentina, but it could be anywhere. A<br />

rich country made poor. Welcome to <strong>the</strong> globalized<br />

ghost town.” So begins The Take. In <strong>the</strong> early 90s,<br />

Argentina appeared to be a poster child <strong>of</strong> progress<br />

and economic growth, but festering beneath all that<br />

shiny foreign investment was a crumbling system fed<br />

on corruption and greed. By 1999, it had all collapsed,<br />

throwing <strong>the</strong> county into anarchy and despair.<br />

In The Take, we meet people from three<br />

factories who have risen up, taking power into<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir own hands. They represent different facets <strong>of</strong><br />

<strong>the</strong> country’s struggle for renewal. Brukman’s suit<br />

factory was <strong>the</strong> first operation to be occupied,<br />

taken over by its seamstresses; it has since become<br />

<strong>the</strong> “beloved symbol <strong>of</strong> Argentina’s new politics.”<br />

Brukman’s is an “activist mecca” where meetings<br />

take place during <strong>the</strong> day around sewing machines,<br />

and at night, <strong>the</strong>re are concerts outside <strong>the</strong><br />

factory’s gates. One woman sums it up with<br />

troubling irony: “For us as workers, accounting is<br />

easy. I don’t know why it’s so hard for <strong>the</strong> bosses to<br />

pay salaries, buy materials and pay <strong>the</strong> bills—you<br />

add and subtract.”<br />

We meet Maty, a new co-op member at <strong>the</strong><br />

Zanon ceramic tile factory, which has been under<br />

worker control for <strong>the</strong> past few years. She is young,<br />

in her 20s, and represents <strong>the</strong> movement’s next<br />

generation. Zanon is rooted in <strong>the</strong> community on<br />

many levels: donating tiles to neighbouring<br />

hospitals and schools. Popular rock bands have<br />

written songs in support <strong>of</strong> Zanon.<br />

If <strong>the</strong>re's a protagonist in <strong>the</strong> film, an<br />

unsuspecting hero, it would have to be Freddy, a<br />

factory worker and family man. When his Forja<br />

auto-parts plant shuts down, he and his co-workers<br />

band toge<strong>the</strong>r, and decide to organize. Forja is <strong>the</strong><br />

new kid on <strong>the</strong> block—Brukman and Zanon have<br />

turned before—and it is through Freddy that we<br />

have <strong>the</strong> opportunity to witness <strong>the</strong> step-by-step<br />

process by which a movement is born. We see<br />

council meetings and community networking<br />

sessions, demonstrations in <strong>the</strong> streets, and<br />

intimate family ga<strong>the</strong>rings where financial<br />

concerns are part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> daily conversation. These<br />

sequences are eerily juxtaposed with <strong>the</strong> upcoming<br />

presidential election and short-lived resurrection <strong>of</strong><br />

Carlos Menem, <strong>the</strong> former President <strong>of</strong> Argentina,<br />

who brought <strong>the</strong> country into prosperity and <strong>the</strong>n<br />

poverty in <strong>the</strong> 90s.<br />

While in Buenos Aires, Naomi Klein and Avi<br />

Lewis lived collectively in a group <strong>of</strong> nine. She<br />

explains that, “it was an adventure we were all<br />

on toge<strong>the</strong>r. An experiment and a moment <strong>of</strong><br />

people living in Argentina because we believed in<br />

what people were trying to do <strong>the</strong>re, and we<br />

wanted to be a part <strong>of</strong> it and we wanted to learn<br />

from it.” As a group, Lewis and Klein and <strong>the</strong><br />

o<strong>the</strong>rs would brainstorm about how to illustrate<br />

ideas in <strong>the</strong> film: for instance, a whole day was<br />

spent on critiquing <strong>the</strong> IMF (International<br />

Monetary Fund). They also watched political<br />

documentaries toge<strong>the</strong>r, like Life and Debt and<br />

The Revolution Will Not be Televised, and<br />

discussed what worked and what didn’t. “Not<br />

everybody brought <strong>the</strong> same politics to <strong>the</strong><br />

project,” says Lewis. “Some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people had<br />

really strong feelings about consensual decisionmaking<br />

and horizontal organizing. Of course<br />

<strong>the</strong>se are <strong>the</strong>mes in <strong>the</strong> film, but it (<strong>the</strong> directing<br />

process) was not a democracy. Ideologically <strong>the</strong>y<br />

had a really good point, but practically, (I was<br />

<strong>the</strong>) director.” As first-time filmmakers, Lewis and<br />

Klein were learning on <strong>the</strong> job, just like Freddy<br />

and <strong>the</strong> boys at <strong>the</strong> Forja.<br />

6POINT OF VIEW 55 | 2004

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