Sponti- Gang schockiert Wohlhabende

Das "FrischeParadies Goedeken" an der Großen Elbstraße in Hamburg gilt als Pilgerstätte für jene Gourmets, denen nichts zu teuer ist. In dem angesagten Feinkostladen treffen sich Profi-Gastronomen im Schlabberlook von TV-Koch Tim Mälzer sowie gegelte Hobbyköche, die mit hochgeschlagenem Hemdkragen und ins Haar gesteckter Sonnenbrille ihr Yuppie-Image pflegen.

Am vorvergangenen Freitag aber kamen Besucher, die schon optisch nicht ins Bild passten: Eine Horde junger Leute, verkleidet als Comic-Helden, stürmte das Geschäft und schleppte haufenweise Delikatessen hinaus - ohne zu bezahlen. Der verdutzten Kassiererin überreichten die Plünderer statt Geld einen Blumenstrauß, dann posierten sie noch schnell für ein Foto und verschwanden mit ihrer Beute. Die Polizei schickte zwar 14 Streifenwagen sowie einen Hubschrauber, doch das Großaufgebot kam zu spät.

Seit Jahren schon geht das so. Immer wieder kommt es in der Hansestadt zu ähnlichen Aktionen, mit denen die Täter gegen die ungleiche Verteilung des Wohlstands demonstrieren, woraus sie das Recht zur Selbstbedienung ableiten. "Die fühlen sich wie Robin Hood", mutmaßt Bodo Franz, Leiter der Staatsschutzabteilung im Hamburger Landeskriminalamt. Ebenso wie der Verfassungsschutz mühen sich seine Spezialisten vergebens um Erkenntnisse über die Gruppe.

Bis zu 30 Leute sind an den Aktionen beteiligt, doch verhalten sie sich sehr konspirativ, bislang mit Erfolg. Diesmal hatten sie sich den Edelsupermarkt am Elbufer ausgesucht, in einer Gegend, die sich seit einigen Jahren vom tristen Gewerbegebiet zum angesagten Erlebnisraum wandelt. Wo einst nur Fischhändler, Seemannsheime und ein paar Spelunken angesiedelt waren, entstanden in den vergangenen Jahren teure Einrichtungshäuser, schicke Lokale und luxuriöse Lofts.

Und die Täter wussten genau, was in diesem Ambiente gut und teuer ist. "Die hatten sich schon gefüllte Einkaufswagen und -körbe bereitgestellt", vermutet Betriebsleiter Carsten Sievers. Darin lagen Hirschkeulen, Valrhona-Schokolade, Champagner für 99,53 Euro die Flasche und Filetstücke vom Kobe-Rind.

Die japanischen Rindviecher sind etwas ganz Besonderes für Kenner. Die Tiere führen ein Leben, das mancher der Spontis vermutlich ebenfalls verlockend fände. Zur speziellen Kraftnahrung gibt es reichlich Bier, außerdem werden die Rinder täglich bis zu zwei Stunden per Hand massiert - angeblich wird das Fleisch so besonders zart und erhält seine feine Maserung. Je nach Herkunft und Qualität werden pro Kilogramm Preise erzielt, die dem Regelsatz eines Hartz-IV-Empfängers entsprechen können.

Den Beziehern von Stütze und anderen Verlierern der Gesellschaft fühlen sich die "Superhelden", die sich in ihrem Bekennerschreiben "Spider Mum" oder "Santa Guevara" nennen, angeblich verpflichtet: Ihre Aktion gelte besonders Menschen in "prekären" Arbeitsverhältnissen, es gehe ihnen um bessere Lebensumstände für die "vollvernetzte Dauerpraktikantin", die "aufenthaltslose Putzfrau" und den "ausbildungsplatzlosen Ein-Euro-Jobber", deren Arbeitsbedingungen immer schlechter würden. "Ohne die Fähigkeiten von Superhelden ist ein Überleben in der Stadt der Millionäre nicht möglich", heißt es auf dem Zettel, den die Bande im geplünderten Paradies hinterließ.

Der Verfassungsschutz zählt die Täter zu einer losen Gruppe, die sich "Hamburg-Umsonst" nennt. Die Spontis verteilten beispielsweise offiziell aufgemachte Flyer in der U-Bahn mit Tipps für Schwarzfahrer oder schummelten sich mit gefälschten Tickets ins Kino. Sie seien "im studentischen Milieu und im Randbereich von Autonomen" angesiedelt, vermutet Staatsschützer Franz - auf jeden Fall "spaßorientiert mit politischem Hintergrund".

"Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei", stand denn auch süffisant auf einem Plakat, das die Täter vor einem Jahr in einem Nobel-Restaurant auf dem Süllberg im Elb-Stadtteil Blankenese entrollten - in Anlehnung an den gleichnamigen Film. Vor den Augen pikierter Gäste leerten die Spontis dann das Büfett. Dazu schwenkten sie überdimensionale Messer und Gabeln aus Pappe, die mit Alufolie umwickelt waren.

Angesichts solcher Aktionen kann sich ein erfahrener Ermittler eines Schmunzelns nicht erwehren. "Immerhin gehen die Täter ein hohes persönliches Risiko ein", meint er anerkennend. Kritik gibt es dagegen in der Szene. In einem Internet-Forum heißt es, die Aktionen seien nicht im Geringsten antikapitalistisch. Das Ganze sei doch nichts anderes als "Betteln nach regulierter Ausbeutung in Normalarbeitsverhältnissen".

Quelle Spiegel online  

täglich Kölsch und täglich zwei Stunden massiert werden  

brauche ich auch nicht mehr nach Geld zu streben! (wichtig sex nur mit jungen hübschen Mädels und nicht mit Katja)  

kein Wunder das das Geld nicht reicht...  

 

 

mitmachen kann ;-) (wollte als kleiner Junge schon Robin Hood sein. War es auch Karneval mehr mals)  

und dann noch so ein Einsatz!! Das das mit Blumen für die Verkäuferin fand ich gut  

macht, war glaub ich auch in HH - isch war nisch, ährlisch ;-)  

internet ist doch anonym, wenn die Polizei dich nicht gerade belauscht oder der Verfassungsschutz  

Nur sind manche eben gleicher...

Für ´nen Ladendiebstahl ein Aufgebot von 14 Streifenwagen und 1 Hubschrauber, wenn´s um den Lieblings-Shop von Promis geht, einen gelangweilten Strassenbullen mit zerfleddertem Notizblöckchen wenn der Tante_Emma-Laden um die Ecke ausgenommen wird...
 

 

gezeigt haben. (Blumen für die Verkäuferin) Somit sind diese Menschen ja wohl kaum gefährlich.  

hab mal in der sandkiste nem anderen Kind die Förmchen weggenommen - ich gebe gar nichts zu!!  

aber die CIA ist denke ich mal noch nicht hinter mir her.  

Mhmmm, und wenns Dein Laden wäre?
Schliesslich sollte bedacht werden, dass solche "etablissements" eine der eher wenigen Möglichkeiten darstellen, unseren selbstmitleidigen, steuerweinerlichen und gutbetuchten Mitbürger das "wohlverdiente" und recht günstig besteuerte Vermögen/Einkommen aus der Tacshe zu ziehen und ihnen dabei auch noch ein Lustgefühl zu vermitteln.

Was bringen solche Aktionen?
Wäre offene politische Diskussion und Teilnahme an Entscheidungsprozessen nicht die bessere Wahl?  

und somit freut sich der Besitzer sicherlich über die kostenlose PR
Was es bringt? Es zeigt das es in unserem Land die Schere zwischen arm und reich immer weiter auseinander geht. Das kann man bei einer wahl wohl kaum ausdrücken!  

Damit hatte ich auch nicht das PASSIVE Wahlrecht gemeint.
Wenn alle politisch interessierten ariva-Leute auch nur 10 % ihrer Energie, die sie hier mit internet-Beiträgen z.T. verplempern, aktiv in den realen öffentlichen Diskurs einbringen würden, wäre es um die öffentlice politische Kultur womöglich ein klitzeklein wenig besser bestellt.
;o)))  

A merry band

Last month Germany's real-life Robin Hood gang struck again, stealing a trolley of luxury food. But who are they - and why do they do it? And how did Luke Harding manage to track them down when the police couldn't?

Wednesday May 17, 2006
The Guardian

Standing inside his delicatessen, Carsten Sievers gestures forlornly to where the giant Spanish cheese used to sit. "They took it," he says, pointing to an empty shelf. "They also took my Ruinart champagne. It costs €99 [£68] a bottle. Fortunately, my vintage wines were all locked up." Late last month Sievers's shop, Frische Paradies in Hamburg, was the victim of one of the most inventive - and possibly the funniest, though not to him - raids in German criminal history. At 10.15am on April 28, a group of activists dressed as superheroes burst into his gourmet supermarket. Wearing carnival masks and calling themselves names such as Spider Mum, Multiflex, Sante Guevara and Operaistorix, they made off with a trolley loaded with luxury goods.

Article continues
"They took a whole slab of Australian Wagyu Kobe beef. It cost €108," says Siefers. "The cows had been specially massaged. We also have some very fine cheese here from Philippe Olivier. He's a very tough and famous cheesemaker. They took that too."

Their €1,500 haul also included olive oil, bio-cheese, a haunch of Serrano ham and Valrhona chocolate. The group - known as the Robin Hood gang - handed over a flower to the woman at the till. Attached to it was a note, which read: "Although we produce Hamburg's wealth we scarcely enjoy any of it. The sources of wealth are many. So are the opportunities to take it."

Pausing long enough to pose for photographs, the Robin Hood gang then vanished into the warren of houses and stepped gardens overlooking Hamburg's picturesque Elbe River.

The police arrived 10 minutes later. A helicopter and 14 police cars failed to find them. "I went after them. But all I found was a plastic bag," recalls sales assistant Silke Neuhoff. The raid provoked front-page stories in Hamburg and elsewhere - not least because it appeared to be inspired by the hit German film The Edukators. (In it, a group of young radicals stage a series of political burglaries against the rich, leaving behind a note: "Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei - Your days of plenty are over." The group don't take anything but end up accidentally kidnapping a wealthy businessman.) So far, as in the film, the Robin Hood gang hasn't been arrested.

In a note posted on the internet the gang said it had distributed the food among Germany's new underclass - interns who worked for months in glamorous publishing houses without being paid, low-wage nursery assistants, mums forced to take part-time jobs as cleaning ladies and "one-euro jobbers", performing menial tasks under a German government welfare scheme. The gang said it didn't merely object to capitalism. Instead it was making a stand against Prekarisierung or "precariousness" - the uncertainty facing 20- and lower 30somethings as they try to navigate their way through Europe's gloomy neo-liberal jobs market.

"To survive under the present conditions of precariousness you need to be a superhero," says Multiflex, after agreeing to meet the Guardian at a secret location. In her first interview with a newspaper since the gang staged the raid, she tells me that surviving on a low budget in Hamburg is tough. Of all the German cities, it has the highest number of millionaires and at the same time there is a growing number of people who don't share in this wealth. "We wanted to make a connection with the film," she says. Wasn't she afraid she might get caught, though? "It was a risk. But it was a well-planned operation. We were very organised. We tried to do it all with a bit of humour." How did the gang escape? "We flew away," she says, twinkling her eyes.

The group that carried out last month's raid, it turns out, goes under the name Hamburg Umsonst (Hamburg for free). Its slogan reads: "Everything for everybody. And everything for free." They meet in the city's Hafenstrasse, a row of brightly coloured riverside houses, that was once the scene of violent clashes between police and squatters. These days the squatters own the houses, with the grizzled veterans of the original street battles now in their 40s and 50s. But the area - with its rambling front gardens and communal barbecues overlooked by Hamburg's giant port cranes - is still the centre of the city's thriving alternative scene.

But unlike these older leftists, Hamburg Umsonst is a newer movement, loosely affiliated to a growing network of young anti-capitalist protesters from across Europe. The movement started off in Milan in 2001. It has now spread to more than a dozen European cities, including Paris, Palermo, Stockholm, Helsinki and London, and its main event is May Day.

May 1 is a traditional day of workers' protest in many European countries. But the techniques of Euromayday, as has been dubbed, differ from traditional demos. Since it was founded in 2003, Hamburg Umsonst has staged other eye-catching actions. It gives regular tips on fare-dodging, sneaking into the cinema for free and file-sharing. (Fare dodgers are urged to identify themselves with a pink dot.) A year ago, members burst into a Michelin-starred restaurant in Blakenese, a posh Hamburg suburb overlooking the Elbe, favoured by the rich and famous. Around 20 protesters wearing carnival masks marched into the restaurant ballroom and emptied the entire buffet into plastic bags. They then ran off. The protesters wore T-shirts which read: "Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei" - a clear homage to The Edukators and another example of life imitating art.

Protesters staged a similar raid on Borchardt, a Berlin celebrity and politician-filled restaurant. They were chucked out. Santa Guevara, another caped activist, says the gang would like a basic income for everybody, regardless of what people actually do for a living. What exactly is precariousness about? "There are all sorts of people who are affected by precariousness. It's a feeling of uncertainty. More and more people feel excluded from basic things like health care, paid holidays, maternity leave and job security. We are not just talking about the unemployed. We are also talking about graduates."

It used to be the working classes who were mainly affected by precariousness. Now, though, the sons and daughters of Europe's professional middle-classes are affected too.

Like the students in France who recently forced their government to rescind its new employment law, which made it easier to hire and fire young people, the Robin Hood gang say they are fed up with being unable to find proper work. The students were demonstrating against precarité or precariousness - the same sociological cause that prompted the Robin Hood gang's raid on the Frische Paradies. Interestingly, it was students, rather than trade unionists, who led the protest movement. But it is not just the French who are unhappy with the direction that European capitalism is taking. The traditional post-war economic model in France and Germany has been the "European social model" in which high wages, secure jobs, and decent pensions have been guaranteed. But, in the face of global competition, that has come under strain. The prosperity that Europe's last generation of rebels took for granted - the '68-ers - seems to have disappeared.

In Hamburg, meanwhile, the group's special wrath is reserved for German companies that exploit interns. Typically, German interns work for long periods - often to be let go after months of underpaid slogging. They are then forced to take another internship somewhere else, a process that can drag on into a graduate's early 30s. "We gave some of the food to four Praktikanten [interns] who work in a Hamburg publishing house," Santa Guevara says.

"What we are seeing now is an interesting switch," says Prof Paul Nolte, a cultural historian at Berlin's Free University. "Traditional protests in the 1980s were concerned with post-materialist issues such as the environment, ecology and nuclear energy. Now young people are interested in social issues."

He adds: "We are talking about young, relatively well-educated people whose parents easily attained secure jobs and middle-class status. The situation now is far more insecure. For the first time in many generations, young people in Europe have bleaker prospects than their parents did. They are not as optimistic or utopian as people were in the 60s, or as pessimistic and depressed as they were in the 80s. Instead they find themselves having to walk a tightrope."

The Euromayday protesters, meanwhile, are a media-savvy bunch. Within hours of looting the delicatessen, the Robin Hood gang posted photographs of themselves on the internet. (One showed them sitting in a children's sandpit waving their goodies in the air. Another showed Spider Mum doing a victory leap in front of a Kindergarten). The gang also sent the pictures to Hamburg's main tabloid, the Hamburger Morgenpost. The Mopo, as it's known, put a photo on the front page under the headline: "Class struggle ahead of May Day".

Hamburg's police, meanwhile, are not amused. "Hamburg has always been a very tolerant city which allows many different opinions. We are not Bavarians. This is north Germany. Traditionally this is the freedom-loving part of the country," says a spokeswoman for Hamburg police. But, she adds: "We are talking here about theft. It is forbidden. This was criminal activity. We can't tolerate it, even if they say they were behaving like Robin Hood." Hamburg's Staatschutz, or state protection unit, is investigating. It admits, however, that it stands little chance of identifying the 30 people who raided the supermarket, all of whom were masked.

Sievers feels his shop was the wrong target. It is in the centre of Hamburg's old fish trading area; the road is lined with wholesale shops selling crustaceans. The ferry to Britain used to leave from the nearby harbour. "We were just a symbol," he says. "It's true that a lot of well-off people buy groceries here. But we fight for every cent. We are not a rich company."

The till assistant who was given the flower by the group, Katya Griebenow, says she found the raid a bit scary. "I stood rooted to the spot," she says. "The whole thing took about 30 seconds. They didn't say anything at all. But when they left they started screaming for joy." Did she feel exploited? "I'm not sure," she says.

The shop regularly donates surplus poultry and vegetables to Hamburg charities. "If I had a message for the gang," says Sievers, "I would say, 'Try and come with an idea next time that doesn't involve crime.'"

Hamburg umsonst




Es genügt nicht, keine Gedanken zu haben, man muss auch unfähig sein, sie auszudrücken.  

zubereitet werden... ;)