Chiapas Support Committee
Home of the Compañero Manuel blog on zapatistas & mexico
Zibechi: They assassinate journalists to discipline the media
Miroslava Breach, the La Jornada journalist murdered this month.
By: Raúl Zibechi
They are not, they cannot be, the collateral and undesired effects of the war on drugs. Critical journalists are one of the objectives; not the only one, because the principal target continues to be those below that organize (the organized of below). Assassination is the way that those above, that complex narco-impresario-state alliance, have for disorganizing movements and neutralizing critical journalists and the media (the few) that publish them. I resist seeing it another way, because of the very history of the media.
Until some decades ago, until the 70s or 80s (somewhat arbitrary dates), the section chiefs were the ones who put order into the newsrooms: politics, society, culture, and so forth. The editorial board was a sort of central committee in the daily newspapers and weekly magazines, which were the most distributed media, followed and appreciated by those who wished to inform themselves with a minimum of quality as to analysis and style.
Each section chief was accustomed to meeting with the group of journalists that it was his responsibility to direct, proposing themes to them and listening to any observation, less because power functioned from top to bottom. An old Tupamaro journalist, who worked after the Uruguay dictatorship as editor of the bi-weekly Mate Amargo, used to say –half in jest half seriously– that the “good journalist” was limited to asking “how many lines” he should write (no characters were mentioned then) and, above all, whether the note should be “in favor or against.”
Over the years, with the crisis of hierarchies and, above all, of patriarchies, relationships in the media (at least in the press with which I am familiar), suffered a strong chastising. Fittingly, the editorial board of Brecha is now made up only of women; the director and the four section chiefs are women. And, they are young.
More than change, a true tsunami that would have left the journalists that formed us perplexed. Many of them, like Carlos María Gutiérrez (author of the first interview with Fidel in the Sierra Maestra and founder of Prensa Latina together with Rodolfo Walsh) and Gregorio Selser, who also collaborated in La Jornada, came from and wrote for the mythic Marcha.
Today the newsrooms are very different. The journalists usually take the initiative, propose the themes and define the ways to approach them. They investigate without waiting for their bosses’ approval. They conduct themselves with greater autonomy all the time and, although they can be a minority, they know what they want and the way to get it. Although I did not know her personally, Miroslava Breach must have belonged to that breed and watered at the same well.
An image from the demonstrations in Chiapas protesting the murder of Miroslava Breach reads: My heart will never be quiet!
What I want to say is this: journalists are murdered instead of attacking the media, as was done before; and there are the dozens of newspapers the dictatorships closed, or the attack against El Espectador in Bogotá by Pablo Escobar’s group in 1989, with more than 70 injured. Critical journalists –reporters, photographers, and etcetera– are themselves an objective, as are the leaders of anti-systemic movements.
In the 20 years that the Vietnam War lasted (1955-1975), 79 journalists died (https://knightcenter.utexas.edu/en/blog/reporters-who-covered-vietnam-war-reunite-former-saigon), it having been the armed conflict with the most press coverage in history and one of the most lethal, with the number of deaths that, according to sources, exceeded 4 million. The number contrasts vividly with the more than 120 journalists murdered in Mexico since 2000, in a completely different situation to that of Southeast Asia.
The increase in crimes against journalists forms part of the complete open control that the system realizes, for which it uses the armed apparatus of the State, as well as the narco. The mode of operating has changed radically in the last half century.
Starting with Vietnam, where journalism played a relevant role of informing the population at that time, the doors began to close. Images like that of the naked girl fleeing from napalm bombing, or the film of an official executing an unarmed guerrilla with a shot to the head, contributed decisively to turning public opinion, particularly American public opinion, against the war.
In many senses the Vietnam failure was a parting of waters. That is when the “social policies” were born from the hand of Robert McNamara, who had served as Secretary of Defense during Vietnam and later as president of the World Bank, and who comprehended that wars were not won with weapons. Those policies, so devastating to the autonomy and self-esteem of those below are, as of today, the children of the Yankee military defeat.
Two additional events happened during those same that are worth remembering. One, capitalism counter-attacks the workers’ movement with a complete labor restructuring, in which automation is born in the central countries and the maquila (sweat shop) on the peripheries.
Second, the war against drugs made its first moves against the Black Panther Party in the United States at the end of the 1970s, murdering leaders and developing the so-called “Counterintelligence Program” (COINTELPRO) in order to annihilate an organization that had achieved deep community ties. The FBI flooded black neighborhoods with drugs, as part of the fight against the “insurgency.”
By the way, it’s necessary to remember that United States intelligence services allegedly staged California journalist Gary Webb’s “suicide” in 2004 because of his investigations that placed in evidence the CIA’s connections to the massive selling of crack in black neighborhoods to finance the Pentagon’s illegal wars.
It’s evident that the narco-state-bourgeoisie alliance enjoys good health, being one of the most solid pillars of the regimes called “democracies.” Despite the horror, we must not lose the north: the murders are part of a war against the peoples. They don’t kill them for being journalists, but rather for their commitment to those below.
———————————————————–
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Friday, March 31, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/03/31/opinion/018a1pol
Re-published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
Mining: the hope of Mexico?
By: Gilberto López y Rivas
Statements from the Mexican Network of those Affected by Mining (Rema, for its initials in Spanish) made to the leader of the Morena Party did not go unnoticed. In an open letter, it rejects Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s proposal to “make commitments in order to achieve greater investment of the Canadian mining companies in Mexico, with fair wages and care of the environment,” which is inscribed in a Decalogue to counteract Donald Trump’s policies.
Rema clarifies that it has no ties to any political party, and that its position obeys the need to express its profound concern before the fact that “the country’s political class continues deaf and dumb to the recurrent denunciations that society, and especially the Rema, have made against the mining companies that work in Mexico and in Latin America. […] Mining is one of the extractive processes that have the largest emission of toxic contaminants into the water, the sediments and the air, and this contamination is practically irreversible. The model is maintained in the spirit of obtaining the greatest possible profit, and is a precursor to the destruction of labor rights, because it was the first to promote-adopt the attack against traditional trade unionism, it raises up and favors the appearance of company unions, to later confront workers in the same mine and, increasingly uses outsourcing more and more as its principal means of contracting workers […] Its interest in promoting Canadian investment leaves much to be desired, not only because the Canadian mining companies concentrate 70% of that industry’s projects in our country, but also because it’s just in Canada where the current predatory extractive mining model was developed […] Canada doesn’t recognize or respect the right of the peoples to prior, free and informed consent, because it’s not a signatory to Convention 169 of the International Labor Organization (ILO) and delayed four years to sign the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples […] there are hundreds of experiences of what we state here. We are not fantasizing; the extractive mining model is predatory and “improving it,” “diminishing it” or “better regulating it” is not enough, since that is impossible. Today, mining extraction is the planet’s most predatory technical and technological system. From our humble contribution to its Decalogue, we tell you that this investment must be banished from the country.” (See the page http://www.remamx.org/).
As has frequently been made evident in La Jornada through opinion articles, editorials and numerous special reports, the mining corporations promise jobs, public services, productive projects and respect for the environment, but it is a fact that historically these companies have left a trail of death, impoverishment, irreversible damage to the environment and health effects, polarization and social division in the communities. Toxic mega-mining is especially injurious and contrary to the spirit and letter of Constitutional Articles 2 and 27, since different secondary laws grant the exploration, exploitation and benefit of minerals the character of “public utility” and “preference” over any other use or of the terrain, and give extraordinary facilities to private parties for accessing the lands that the concessions protect, transforming the ejido owners and comuneros into the unprecedented condition of “surface owners,” outside of every criteria or legal framework. These privileges for corporations, the majority foreign, which already possess concessions for 35% of the national territory, constitute a rupture of the constitutional pact that results from the Mexican Revolution of 1910-1917, and one more proof of the governing clique’s national betrayal.
In the global ambit, empirical data shows that mining companies leave a sequel of millions of tons of removed earth and rocks in extensive operation areas, with the consequent destruction of the habitat and deterioration of the social atmosphere: they contaminate rivers, groundwater, dams and drainage with extremely toxic substances; they monopolize the water; exploit their workers and expose them to conditions with extreme risk; they support anti-democratic regimens–like the one in Mexico–, they even contract gunmen (sicarios) and paramilitary groups to confront their opponents and organize powerful “pressure groups” (called lobbies for the Anglican euphemism) that act in the parliaments, bribing and buying consciences, even of congresspersons of the institutionalized left, so that they support their businesses directly or indirectly in the country. All of that in exchange for the very scarce income that residents of the exploited territories receive (1.3 to 2.9 percent, between rent and subsidies, when they actually receive them), when they get pressured to grant the “permits” through deception, because of the commanding need and the corruption of “leaders” or caciques that lend themselves to serve as the corporations’ native clerks.
The only defense in the face of the mining threat is organization, mobilization and the strengthening of the autonomy of the affected indigenous-campesino communities, and of the social movements that defend popular sovereignty from below. The ignorance and disinformation throughout Mexico, with respect to the multiplicity and severity of the damages that toxic mega-mining implies, be it among campesinos in assemblies, among professionals and academics, among legislators, judges, functionaries and political leaders has very serious consequences for our country and its territories. And one must not expect any kind of defense or protection from the Mexican government, which loses more credibility and dignity with each day that passes. Breaking records as for “opening” to foreign investment, Mexico is perhaps the country in the world where it’s easiest to obtain a concession for this kind of mining exploitation, and its government even grants inclusive favorable credits and numerous other protections to the mining companies.
On this theme, as in many others, it is necessary to listen to the peoples.
———————————————————–
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Friday, February 24, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/02/24/opinion/020a1pol
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
IACHR finds the State responsible for death of Tzeltal
By: José Antonio Román
The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) concluded that the Mexican State is responsible for violating the right to life of the Tzeltal Gilberto Jiménez Hernández, executed at the hands of members of the Army in Altamirano, Chiapas, on February 20, 1995, inside the so- called Chiapas 94 Campaign Plan, with which it sought to retake the territory in which the Zapatista National Liberation Army (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, EZLN) had operated.
The IACHR points out that after 22 years the Mexican State has not complied with any of the recommendations issued to repair the damage and to guaranty that the acts are not repeated. They also committed offenses and crimes against relatives of the victim and the villagers.
The acts occurred in the La Grandeza ejido in Altamirano municipality, when Army officials extra-judicially executed Jiménez Hernández while he was fleeing with his family and some 70 other residents. There were allegedly investigations in ordinary federal and state agencies, as well as military, but impunity prevailed.
The State’s version is that his death resulted from a confrontation between members of the EZLN, the group to which the victim belonged, and members of the Army.
These acts occurred after February 9, 1995, when then President Ernesto Zedillo launched the Army against the EZLN, betraying his offer of dialogue. That same day, the Attorney General of the Republic announced that members of the Zapatista leadership had been accused of the use of weapons for the Army’s exclusive use and also terrorism.
According to the testimonies of villagers, the soldiers “opened continuous fire” against the people that had taken shelter in an improvised encampment on the hill after being warned that the soldiers were coming. They also said that the Army destroyed the interior of the houses in the empty community.
The villagers fled after the shooting on February 20. Gilberto Jiménez attempted to hide, but he couldn’t because he was carrying his 2-year old daughter “tied to his back with a shawl.” Abner García Torres, a soldier, found him and in Spanish ordered him to stop.
Gilberto obeyed and was extended on the ground, but the soldier, “without any warning or motive, shot him without considering that he was carrying his daughter on his back.” One of the bullets penetrated his right eye and caused his immediate death. His wife and several of his ten children with whom he was fleeing were witnesses to the execution.
———————————————————–
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/03/21/politica/005n3pol
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
EZLN: The first of several
ZAPATISTA NATIONAL LIBERATION ARMY
MEXICO
March 2017
To the Sixth in the world:
Compas:
Because we had told you that we were going to see the way of supporting you so that, at the same time, you will support the resistance and rebellion of those who are persecuted and separated by walls, well we now have a small advance.
The first ton of Café Zapatista (Zapatista Coffee) is now ready for the campaign “Facing the walls of Capital: resistance, rebellion, solidarity and support from below and to the left.”
It’s 100 % Zapatista coffee. Cultivated on Zapatista lands by Zapatista hands; harvested by Zapatistas; dried under Zapatista sun; ground in a Zapatista machine; the Zapatista mill was out of order due to the Zapatistas’ fault; the Zapatistas fixed it (it was non-Zapatista part); later packaged by Zapatistas, labeled by Zapatistas and transported by Zapatistas.
This first ton was achieved with participation from the 5 Caracoles, with their Good Government Juntas, their MAREZ and the communities’ collectives, and it is already found in the CIDECI-UniTierra in San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, rebel Mexico.
This Zapatista coffee has the best taste if you drink it struggling. We place a small video here that the Tercios Compas made where you can see the process: from the coffee field, to the warehouse.
We are now classifying and packing the works with which the Zapatistas participated in the first CompArte, which we will also send to support your activities.
We hope that we will be able to deliver (the coffee) at the April event so that it can move to the different corners of the world where the Sexta is, in other words, where there is resistance and rebellion.
We hope that with this first support you are able to initiate or continue your work in support of all the persecuted and discriminated of the world.
Perhaps you will ask yourself how the coffee will arrive in your corners. Well in the same way in which it was produced, in other words, being organized.
In other words we’re asking that you organize not only for that, but also and above all for making activities to support all the people that today are persecuted simply because of a skin color, a culture, a belief, an origin, a history, or a life.
And it’s not all for now: always remember that one must resist, one must rebel, one must struggle and one must organize.
Oh, and we ask how you say what we want to say, but in a way that you will understand it:
¡Fuck Trump! (And at the same time also all the others that is Peña Nieto, Macri, Temer, Rajoy, Putin, Merkel, May, Le Pen, Berlusconi, Jinping, Netanyahu, al-Assad, and you can add in there whatever it’s called or will be called the wall that must be brought down in a way that all of the walls receive the message).
(That is to say that it’s the first of several tons and the first of several mentions –that are not minty).
From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast,
Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés | Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano.
Mexico, March 2017
A video by the Tercios Compas accompanies this comunicado with the song “Somos sur,” (“We are the South), words and music of Ana Tijoux, accompanied by Shadia Mansour. It can be found, along with photos of the coffee coops, at:
http://enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx/2017/03/16/la-primera-de-varias/
Indigenous Women: an expanding view
Chiapas Women march in San Cristóbal and Tuxtla Gutiérrez on International Women’s Day. Photo from proceso.com
By: Magdalena Gómez
March 8 is International Women’s Day. In the case of Indigenous women, as of today, the complexity is not fully realized that their belonging to a people and the dimension of gender involve. In the last 20 years, indigenous women, immersed in the dynamic of the indigenous peoples’ political movement, have constructed new spaces favorable to the vindication of their own demands as women. Many of them are similar to the generic demands of all women, but others question, from inside of their peoples, certain conceptions and practices endorsed by so-called custom.
A good example of this process is the document that was presented to the National Indigenous Congress for the purpose of its creation, in October 1996. In the first place, they again took up the spaces won during the discussion at the dialogue table between the Zapatista National Liberation Army (EZLN, its initials in Spanish) and the federal government, because of that it was noted that the women’s law and the need for parity among men and women were recognized at the negotiating table for the San Andrés Accords; however, the mechanisms for implementing them and for making that law effective were not agreed upon.
It emphasized that there is no doubt that the indigenous woman fulfills a productive and symbolic role equally important as the man’s. Nevertheless, women are generally excluded from public decisions and have fewer rights than men. At the same time, it clarified that indigenous women set forth their demands and vindicate their rights, not to go against their culture or their group, but rather to think about the customs from a perspective that includes them and does not do violence to them. With respect to that, they concluded: “therefore we say together with other organized indigenous sisters that insistently advocate for changing the customs that we want to open a new path for thinking about customs from another view, which does not do violence to our rights as persons and that gives dignity and respect to indigenous women. We always want to change the customs that don’t affect our dignity.” They insisted on denouncing the triple oppression that indigenous women experience, because of being poor, being indigenous and being women.
The perspective of their political rights was already glimpsed when they supported the recognition of autonomy for Indian peoples, with the guaranty of parity to women I all representative bodies. They added themselves to the questioning the counter-reform to Constitutional Article 27 demanding it be modified so that women have the right to land, together with the right of all indigenous peoples. In this 1996 document we are able to appreciate that the demands are formulated directly, even if an image of embroidering is profiled about the inter-relation between their belonging to the indigenous peoples and in some way their vindication of participation in the political process with the situation that they live inside of those collectivities as women.
Today the indigenous women’s movement has expanded and diversified its agendas. In relation to their political rights some, very few, have participated in local and federal deputations or in the municipios through the political parties or in the case of de Oaxaca through election by uses and customs. Those individual trajectories are added to the generic agenda of the political parties and they seek to introduce some similar demand. We find an example of this tendency in the case of a Zapotec woman Eufrosina Cruz, who expressed: “let’s go grabbing more; what I have understood in my experience is that if you don’t grab for something, then you’re not going to get it; sensitivity is needed in public spaces in every rubric of decision-making, backwardness is in all sectors.” (Milenio, 5/3/17)
The National Indigenous Congress (CNI, its initials in Spanish) with the EZLN’s support set this profile of electoral political participation with the postulation of an indigenous woman as an independent candidate to the Presidency of the Republic, and without a doubt it will mark a significant turn. We’re talking about a radical change that an indigenous woman will head; it is in and of itself an affirmative action, which entails a rupture with the patriarchal hegemony of the political elites. The other element that constitutes an authentic parting of waters is that this indigenous woman will bring with her an anti-capitalist program, which marks a rupture with the profile of the electoral agendas underway.
From this perspective, what the CNI pointed out last January 1 makes sense: “we want to shake the conscience of the nation, which in effect means that we seek that indignation, resistance and rebellion figure on the 2018 electoral ballots, but it’s not our intention to compete in any way with the parties and all the political class that still owes us a lot… Don’t let us confuse you, we don’t seek to compete with them, because we are not the same.”
Such is the challenge.
————————————————
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/03/07/opinion/017a2pol
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
Absalón Castellanos dies; EZLN put him on trial in 1994
EZLN delivers ex governor Absalón Castellanos in 1994.
By: Isaín Mandujano
The former Chiapas governor, Absalón Castellanos Domínguez, who the Zapatista National Liberation Army put on trial in 1994, died this afternoon at 93.
His grandson with the same name, Absalón Castellanos Rodríguez, announced the death of the general, born in Comitán de Domínguez, in social networks: “May you rest, Grandfather! You are now with God… October 2, 1923 – March 10m 2017 (93 years) A great man in every sense and a proud Mexican, descendent of Belisario Domínguez, Proudly Chiapaneco!”
After graduating from the Heroic Military College in June 1942, the ex governor served as the commander of the body of cadets of the First Mixed Weapons Support Group of the Corps of Presidential Guards.
He was the director of the Military School of “Mariano Escobedo” Classes, commander of the 18th. Military Zone and the 2nd Infantry Zone, as well as of Military Camp No. 1, and also director of the Heroic Military College, inspector general of the Army and commander of the 31st and 13th Military Zones.
He governed the state of Chiapas (1982-1988) with a heavy hand, which was also distinguished by land invasion and the constant repression of the protests of campesino and indigenous groups.
In response, on January 1, 1994, behind he EZLN’s armed uprising, the masked ones surprised him at his Momón ranch in the municipio of Las Margaritas. A group with now Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés in command took him prisoner and led him to the heart of the Lacandón Jungle to be tried. [1]
He was delivered to Bishop Samuel Ruiz García with whom he always had political friction.
After the gestures of peace negotiator Manuel Camacho Solís and then Bishop Samuel Ruiz García, the EZLN’s Indigenous Revolutionary Clandestine Committee-General Command (CCRI-CG) ordered the retired general’s release.
“For the purpose of favoring the prompt start of the dialogue for peace with dignity that all Mexicans desire and as a signal of our EZLN’s sincere disposition, we communicate to you that on Wednesday, February 16, 1994 division general Absalón Castellanos Domínguez will be set free,” the Zapatistas said at that time.
Division General Absalón Castellanos Domínguez was delivered to Peace and Mediation commissioners Manuel Camacho Solís and Samuel Ruiz García, in Guadalupe Tepeyac, municipio of Las Margaritas. After his liberation, medical personnel from the International Committee of the Red Cross checked his health condition.
The Zapatistas argued that they had decided to set him free “for the purpose of favoring the easing of tension in the conflict zone during the realization of the dialogue for peace with dignity.”Durante that delivery, the EZLN announced the general was a “prisoner of war,” accused of different crimes against the indigenous population of Chiapas and a “popular trial” for what happened.
Castellanos Domínguez was accused of edging the indigenous population of Chiapas towards rising up in arms against injustices because he closed off every legal and peaceful path for their just demands during the time in which he was governor of Chiapas.
“Division General Absalón Castellanos Domínguez was found guilty of, in complicity with the federal government during the time of his state mandate, having obliged indigenous Chiapanecos to rise up in arms by closing off every possibility to them of a peaceful solution to their problems. Patrocinio González Blanco Garrido and Elmar Setzer Marseille, who succeeded him as governors of Chiapas and who continued edging our peoples towards this path, with the complicity of the respective federal governments, are accomplices of division general Absalón Castellanos Domínguez in the commission of this crime,” the Zapatistas pointed out.
Before, during and after the time in which he discharged his duties as governor of Chiapas, he was accused of repressing, kidnapping, incarcerating, torturing, raping and murdering members of the Chiapas indigenous populations that fought legally and peacefully for their just rights.
He was also accused of dispossessing indigenous Chiapas campesinos of their lands, in complicity with the federal government, “and in this way having become one of the most powerful landholders in the state of Chiapas,” the Zapatista Justice Tribunal emphasized at that time.
After deliberating and analyzing all the accusations against the ex governor and his guilt having been demonstrated, his verdict was issued and his sentence decided:
“Division General Absalón Castellanos Domínguez was condemned to life sentence doing manual labor in an indigenous community of Chiapas and in this way earning the bread and means necessary for his subsistence.”
Afterwards it resolved: “As a message to the people of Mexico and to the peoples and governments of the world, the Zapatista Justice Tribunal of the EZLN commutes the life sentence of division general Absalón Castellanos Domínguez, it sets him physically free and, instead, condemns him to living the rest of his days with the sentence and shame of having received forgiveness and kindness from those who he humiliated, kidnapped, dispossessed, robbed and murdered for so long.”
The Zapatista Justice Tribunal turned that resolution over to the EZLN’s Indigenous Revolutionary Clandestine Committee-General Command, so that they would take the necessary and pertinent measures for the fulfillment of the resolution.
At the same time, it recommended that the federal government should propose the exchange of division general Absalón Castellanos Domínguez for all the Zapatista combatants and civilians that federal troops unjustly took as prisoners during the 12 days that the fighting lasted in 1994.
It was also suggested exchanging the military man for food supplies and other means that would alleviate the grave situation of the civilian population in the territories under control of the EZLN.
After his release, the general lived for 23 years on a ranch near Tuxtla Gutiérrez. He never accepted talking to the media and journalists to give his version of that trial.
Translator’s Note:
[1] In 2001, when the Zapatistas arrived in Mexico City at the end of the March of the Color of the Earth, journalists noticed Comandante Tacho wearing a Cartier watch, and speculated that it was the watch the former governor said was taken from him while he was held as a prisoner of war. The Zapatistas have never commented about this!
——————————————————————
Originally Published in Spanish by Chiapas Paralelo
Friday, March 10, 2017
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
The transition blossoms, although we may not see it
Autonomous Zapatista cooperatives produce hand-woven artistry for the local market. Photo by Carolina Dutton.
By: Raúl Zibechi
We are transitioning towards a new, post-capitalist world. In the measure that it is a process we are experiencing, we don’t have sufficient distance to know which period we’re in, but everything indicates that we’re crossing through the initial phases of said transition. Although it has deep similarities to previous ones (transitions from antiquity to feudalism and from feudalism to capitalism), a remarkable fact is the inability to comprehend what’s happening before our very eyes: a true process of the collective construction of new worlds.
In emancipatory thinking and especially in Marxism, the idea that all transition begins with the taking of power at the nation-State level has been converted into common sense. This assertion should have been re-thought after the Soviet and Chinese failures, but above all since the demolition of the states by neoliberalism, in other words by financial capital and the fourth world war underway. It’s certain, however, that power must be taken in order to move towards a non-capitalist world power, but why at the State level, why at an institutional level?
This is one of the essences of the problem and an enormous conceptual difficulty in being able to visualize the transitions that really exist. The second difficulty, tied to the former, is that transitions are not homogenous, and don’t involve all of the social body in the same way. History teaches us that they usually begin on the peripheries of the world-system of each nation, in remote rural areas and in small towns, in the weak links of the system, where they collect force and then expand to the centers of power.
On the other hand, transitions not only are not uniform from the geographic point of view, but also the social, since they are processes guided by human need and not by ideologies. Those who first construct other worlds are usually the peoples that inhabit the basement, Indians, blacks and mestizos; the popular sectors, women and youth are usually the principal protagonists.
I want to give an example of something that is happening right now, since it has a degree of important development and that can hardly be reversed, except with genocide. I refer to the experience of the Unemployed Workers Union (Unión de Trabajadores Desocupados, UTD) in General Mosconi, in northern Argentina. The city has 22,000 inhabitants that worked at the state oil company YPF until its privatization in the 1990s, which left a lot of people unemployed. In those years a strong movement of unemployed workers, known as piqueteros, took off and forced social plans out of successive governments.
During the cycle of piquetero struggles, the UTD was one of the principal referents in the whole country and the other movements enthusiastically followed its memorable roadblocks. The UTD and its leaders enjoyed strong prestige, which carried over to hundreds of cases before the courts because of the roadblocks and other “crimes;” they were the most popular ones in Argentina.
Things changed very quickly. The arrival of Nestor Kirchner to the presidency in 2003, and the retraction of the movements, took the UTD out of the media scenario and away from the attention of the social militants. News about what’s happening in far away northern Argentina is as scarce as nebulous.
Nevertheless, the UTD took advantage of the social plans (now cut by Macri) to construct a new world. At this time 110 agro-ecological vegetable gardens function, of two hectares each, where an average of 30 people work and produce a large variety of vegetables, besides a chicken coop and pigs in each garden. They have a carpentry workshop that is nourished from the zone’s abundant wood, workshops for soldering, classification of seeds and recycling of plastics in the five large structures the movement has, as one can read in the reporting of Claudia Acuña in the magazine MU (July 2016).
They built nurseries that reproduce native flora with which they supply from the town squares to the woods, those threatened by the dizzying expansion of transgenic soy and woodcutters. They dedicate part of their work to sustaining public spaces in the city and in the surrounding forests, a region where drug trafficking is increasing under state-police protection and complicity.
A simple calculation shows that from 4 to 5 thousand people make their living in relation to the collective work the UTD organizes, which is equivalent to 40 percent of Mosconi’s active population. Those families forged food autonomy, they no longer depend on social plans, and they are aiming from the production of food to the construction of housing, in other words they are reproducing life outside the framework of the system, without relating to capital or depending on the State. In sum, they work with dignity.
Zapatista coffee cooperatives produce coffee that is sold in Chiapas, in Mexico and internationally.
It will be said that it’s just a local experience. But the gardens and the UTD’s ways of doing things are already expanding to neighboring Tartagal, which has triple the population. Many thousands of undertakings of this kind in Latin America, because the popular sectors comprehended that the system doesn’t need them or protect them, as happened during the brief years of the welfare states. There is an implicit strategy in this group of new worlds that does not pass through nation-states, but rather through strengthening and expanding each initiative, in sharpening the anti-systemic and anti-patriarchal traits, and in strengthening resistances.
A stroke of maturity of a good part of these new worlds consists of maintaining distance from the political party and state institutions, although they can always demand support and glean resources with one eye set on guarantying survival and the other on maintaining independence.
In the long transition underway, impossible to know whether it will be decades or centuries, the new worlds are facing one of the system’s most powerful offensives. What they have achieved up to now permits us to breathe a serene optimism.
———————————————————–
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Friday, March 3, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/03/03/opinion/020a1pol
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
Tarahumaras faced with violence from organized crime seek asylum in US
Children in the Sierra Tarahumara. Photo: Eduardo Miranda
By: Patricia Mayorga
CHIHUAHUA, Chih. (apro). – The Rarámuri, Santiago Cruz Castillo, 26, requested political asylum in El Paso, Texas, after organized crime took away his lands in La Laguna de Aboreachi, municipality of Guachochi, like hundreds of indigenous and mestizos of the Sierra Tarahumara.
Another family from the La Trinidad ejido, in Guadalupe y Calvo municipality arrived before Santiago Cruz to request asylum. After five months, they are still holding David Ríos Laija, one of the members of that family, in custody.
Santiago Cruz arrived alone; he is single and his parents stayed in the Sierra. “I arrived in the United States on November 24 because of the violence that exists in the communities. Many people have gone away because they started to take the land away through criminal activity, through violence; they kill and disappear us and no one gives us protection. We have to leave.”
The young Tarahumara says that they snatched their small parcels of land and their houses to plant poppies and marijuana.
He opted to travel to Juárez, they invited him, they contracted with him and they took him to that border. He worked on a ranch close to Ciudad Juárez, but they were paying him very little and he worked a lot and he became discouraged. “I wasn’t comfortable, I worked long hours, they paid very little and I wasn’t treated well.”
On November 24 he decided to cross into the United States, he was in the detention center and afterwards made contact with the expert immigration lawyer, Carlos Spector, who took his case and is in the process of requesting political asylum.
Santiago Cruz’ wish is to help his people from there, because he is convinced that he can denounce the situation and is confident that the authorities will do something.
“I want to help my people, so that the government will let them work, I want to help from here. The truth is that the violence is strong, I know how it is, don’t tell me,” he insists.
Carlos Spector said that six months ago the Rios family arrived from Guadalupe y Calvo, after an armed group disappeared the father, who was the community’s commissioner.
“The widow Aureliana Leija and her two sons came in September. David Ríos Leija, 22, is a student of Medicine; they are Christians, it is a clean family and they are mestizos. The other son that came is Elías Ríos, 19.
“They fled due to the father’s political situation, they began to seek it and they (the criminals) tell him that they will leave him in peace, that they won’t look for him and they leave seeking asylum. That is part of the press communication, they let the mother go later, Elías 2 months after the credible fear test,” the lawyer detailed.
Nevertheless, David is still detained and Spector denounced that they don’t want to release him despite the fact that he already passed the credible fear test, because the criteria hardened with the Donald Trump government.
“It’s a case of immigration abuse. There exists a bi-national policy of persecution and the incarceration of poor Mexicans, human rights defenders or people that complain and ask for asylum. They incarcerate them or separate them from their family. After being detained for 5 months, there is no possibility of closing the case quickly; that’s the point of prolonged detention. It’s a political kidnapping to discourage strong political asylum cases,” Carlos Spector said.
The lawyer said that in theBarack Obama government and in other administrations, when they ask for political asylum like is done at the international bridge, they would detain them for two months until they passed the credible fear test and then release them if they showed that they didn’t represent threats to the community and if they guarantied that they would attend all the hearings.
Before, he said, the local “Migra” signed the conditional release, the conditional freedom, but now they decided that the national assistant director of immigration in Washington must approve those requesting political asylum to be released.
“It’s a democratic way to not grant asylum to anyone. That is the new policy and a formula for repression and mass deportation, applying the law in an extremely rigid and repressive way. The family wants to leave because the young man wants to leave, but he has to appear in court on March 8. Now they have undertaken a campaign to free him.”
This Monday, Spector announced, they have an appointment with the archbishop for the area, who has spoken out against the criminalization of political asylum.
The lawyer announced that the authorities are going to build more detention centers because soon the people aren’t going to fit in those that exist and he reproached that when people ask for political asylum at the bridge, they are entering legally, in accordance with the laws of the United States and with international laws, therefore he reproached the repressive measures, which he compared to those for the Japanese.
Spector reported that Santiago Cruz is the first Rarámuri to request political asylum, but there are another 300 Tarahumaras that are in prisons in the Southwestern United States, without defense because they don’t have translators.
Saúl Bustamante has finally helped them. He is mestizo and was raised in a cave in the Tarahumara by an indigenous family, because of which he is a firm defender of his people and principally of those who don’t have access to justice. He has organized events to promote Tarahumara culture in El Paso, like (running) races, and hopes to achieve the freedom or the just defense of indigenous Chihuahuans.
————————————————————-
Originally Published in Spanish by Proceso.com
Friday, February 24, 2017
http://www.proceso.com.mx/475704/tarahumaras-piden-asilo-en-eu-ante-la-violencia-crimen-organizado
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
The Cat-Dog and the Apocalypse
Marcos speaks in the Mexico City Zócalo in 2001.
Science fiction.
Remember that: science fiction. You’ll see that, in your coming nightmares, it will help you to not become so distressed, or at least not uselessly distressed.
Perhaps you remember some science fiction movie. Perhaps science fiction set some of you down the path of scientific science.
It didn’t do that for me, perhaps because my favorite science fiction movie is La Nave de los Monstruos i with the unforgettable Eulalio González, known as “el Piporro,” the soundtrack for which has been unjustly excluded from the Oscars, the Golden Globes, and the local and renowned “Clay Pozol Bowl.” ii Perhaps you’ve heard talk of the movie: it’s a “cult” film, according to one of those specialized magazines that nobody reads, not even the people who edit it. If you remember the film and/or you see it, you’ll doubtless understand why I ended up lost in the mountains of the Mexican Southeast and not in the suffocating bureaucratic web that, at least in Mexico, chokes scientific investigation.
You’ll also cheer the fact that that movie is my point of reference for science fiction, instead of 2001: A Space Odyssey by Kubrick, or Alien by Ridley Scott (with Lieutenant Ripley breaking with Charlton Heston’s blueprint of the macho survivor in “Planet of the Apes”), or Blade Runner, also by Ridley, where the question “Do androids dream of electric sheep?” is the nodal point.
So you should thank Piporro and his “Star of Desire”iii and the robot Tor in love with a jukebox iv for the fact that that I’m not on their side in this encounter.
Anyway, cinephile philias (film buffs?) aside, let’s suppose an average film of the genre: an apocalypse in progress or in the past; all of humanity in danger; first an audacious and intrepid man as the protagonist; then, from the hand of innocuous feminism, a woman, also audacious and intrepid; a group of scientists is convoked to a super secret facility (invariably of course located in the United States); a high-ranking military official explains to them: they must create a plan to save humanity; they do so, but it turns out that in the end, they need an individual hero or heroine who, as the story goes, annuls the collective work and at the last second, with a pair of pliers that appeared inexplicably, cuts the green or blue or white or black or red cable at random, and ta-da, humanity is saved; the group of scientists applauds like crazy; the young man or woman finds true love; the respectable public vacates the theater while the free-loaders check the seats to see if anyone left any half-finished cartons of popcorn, with that delicious and unbeatable taste of sodium benzoate.
The catastrophe has a variety of origins: a meteorite has changed course with the same constancy as a politician making declarations about the gas hikes; or a tornado of sharks; or a planet spinning off its course; or an irritated sun sending one of those igneous tongues out of its orbit; or an illness that comes from outer space, or a spaceship, or a biological weapon that gets out of control and, converted into an odorless gas, transforms whoever has contact with it into a professional politician or maybe into something not quite so horrible.
That, or the apocalypse is already a done deal and a group of survivors wanders without hope, injecting the exterior barbarity into their individual and collective behavior, while humanity struggles between life and death.
The end can vary but the constant is the group of scientists, be they the ones who caused the disaster or the only hope of salvation, if of course a handsome man or woman appears at the opportune moment.
The film’s conclusion could be open-ended, or it could be a downright “dark beating” (José Alfredo Jiménez had already warned us that “life isn’t worth anything”).
Sure, let’s take as an example any novel, movie or TV series with an apocalyptic or catastrophic theme. Let’s say one with a popular theme: zombies.
A concrete example: the TV series The Walking Dead. For those who aren’t familiar with the plot, it’s simple: due to some unspecified cause, people who die “turn into” zombies; the protagonist wanders, he encounters a group, they establish a hierarchical organization in continual crisis and they try to survive. The series’ success could be due to the fact that it shows characters that, in normal situations, are mediocre or pariahs, and they become heroines and heroes willing to do whatever it takes. Some of them are:
Michonne, a housewife ignored and belittled by her husband and siblings, who becomes a fearsome warrior with a katana (played by the actress and dramaturge Danai Jekesal Gurira and, not to make you jealous, she’s the only one whose real name I give because, in the trunk left by SupMarcos, I found a picture of her in the character of Michonne, dedicated by her own hand to the deceased. Arrrrroz con leche! v).
Daryl, a manipulated pariah transformed into a “tracker” and a fearsome crossbowman. Up until now the symbol of the refusal to submit, resistance and rebellion.
Glenn, a pizza delivery boy turned star explorer. The handyman and “thousand lives” of the series, until Rickman returned to the comic.
Maggie is a young woman that the zombie apocalypse saves from the monotonous life on a farm and converts her into a leader, despite being pregnant.
Carol, an abused wife transformed into a female version of Rambo, but smart.
Carl, is an adolescent that behind his eye patch hides a serial killer, as Negan well deduced.
Eugene, a nerd who symbolized science and eventually goes from being a pathological liar to becoming useful to the group.
Father Gabriel, the self-serving, opportunistic religious leader who reconverts himself and becomes necessary.
Sara and Aaron, the lesbian woman and the gay man who ensure the political correctness of the plot.
Rosita, my preferred wet dream, is the Latina who combines passion, skill and courage.
Morgan is the survivor in “shaolin monk” mode.
Sasha, the woman who changes from the classic romantic role to that of realistic survivor.
And in the upper part of the hierarchy, the battered symbol of order, Rick, an ex-sheriff’s deputy who barely hides the fascist inclinations of any police officer.
I don’t know what season you’re on. Since the fifth one I stopped watching because the law caught up with the movie guy who used to send me the “alternative” editions and now who knows where he is (which is a shame, because he had promised me up to season 10, though not even Kirkman knows if there will be 10 seasons). But with what I’ve been able to watch, I understand the reason for its success.
It’s not hard to follow the plot, anyway: it’s enough to look at the spoilers that filter through on the respective Twitter hash tags.
A few moons ago, I asked a compañera what would have happened if Rick, or any member of the group, had known ahead of time that what was going to happen would happen. I choose the police officer as my example because it seems that he is the only one whose survival is guaranteed, at least in the comic of the same name.
Would Rick have prepared himself? Would he have constructed a bunker and stockpiled in it food, medicines, fuel, weapons and ammunition, and the complete works of George Romero? vi
Or would he perhaps have tried to stop the disaster?
The compañera, Zapatista to the end, answered me with the same question: what did I think Rick Grimes would have done?
I didn’t hesitate to answer her: nothing. Even knowing what was going to happen, neither Rick nor any of the characters would have done anything.
And there’s a simple reason for that: despite all the evidence, they would have kept thinking, up until the very last minute, that nothing bad was going to happen, that it wasn’t such a big deal, that someone somewhere would have the solution, that order would be re-established, that there would be someone to obey and someone to boss around, that, in any case, the tragedy would happen to other people, somewhere else, geographically distant or distant in terms of their social position.
They would think up until the night before that the tragedy was something destined not for them [ellas, ellos, elloas], but for those who survive below… and to the left.
Zombies aside, in the majority of those apocalyptic narratives, there are one or more moments in which someone, invariably the protagonist, when everyone is surrounded by a horde of zombies or the meteorite is a short distance from their heads, or in a similar situation, says, with all the serenity and aplomb, “Everything is going to be all right”.
And it turns out that for this meeting I got stuck with the role of party pooper. So I should tell you what we see: No, it’s not a science fiction movie, but rather reality; and no, everything is not going to be all right, only a few things will be all right if we prepare ourselves ahead of time.
According to our analysis (and until now, we haven’t seen anyone or anything that refutes it; on the contrary, they confirm it), we are already in the middle of a structural crisis that, in colloquial terms, means the reign of criminal violence, natural disasters, runaway shortages and unemployment, scarcity of basic services, collapse of energy infrastructure, migration, hunger, sickness, destruction, death, desperation, anguish, terror, helplessness.
In sum: dehumanization.
The crime is in progress. The biggest, most brutal and cruel crime in the brief history of humanity.
And the criminal is a system willing to go to any lengths: capitalism.
In apocalyptic terms: it’s a fight between humanity and the system, between life and death.
The second option, death—I wouldn’t recommend it.
Actually, don’t die. It’s not in your best interest. Believe me, I know something about that because I’ve died several times.
It’s very boring. Since the entrances to heaven and hell suffer from an annoying bureaucracy (though it’s not as bad as those in the universities and research centers), the wait is worse than an airport or a bus station during holiday season.
Hell’s the same, you have to organize gatherings of the arts, exact and natural sciences, social sciences, original peoples, and other equally terrible things. They force you to bathe and comb your hair. They inject you and make you to eat squash soup all the time. You have to listen to Peña Nieto and Donald Trump in a never-ending press conference.
Heaven, for its part, is the same, just that there you have to put up with a monotonous chorus of pallid angels, and they all give you the runaround if you want to talk to God to complain about the music.
In sum: say no to death and yes to life.
But don’t fool yourselves.
You’re going to have to fight every day, at all hours and everywhere.
In that fight, sooner or later, you’ll realize that only collectively will you have any possibility of triumph.
And even so, you’ll see that you also need the arts and that you need us, too, and others [otros, otras, otroas] like us.
Organize yourselves.
As Zapatistas we are, we’re not only not asking you to abandon your scientific practice, we’re demanding that you continue it and deepen it.
Continue exploring this and other worlds, don’t stop, don’t despair, don’t give up, don’t sell out, don’t give in.
But we’re also asking you to seek out the arts. Even though the contrary might seem to be true, they will “anchor” your scientific task in what you have in common: humanity.
Enjoy dance in any of its forms. Perhaps at the beginning you won’t be able to avoid framing the movements in the laws of physics, but afterwards you’ll feel it, boom.
Go beyond geometry, color theory and neurology and enjoy painting and sculpture.
Resist the temptation to find the scientific logic to that poem, that novel, and let the words discover galaxies for you that only inhabit the arts.
Surrender when faced with the lack of scientific basis to the stories that in theater and film peer into that which is humanly imperfect, unstable, and unpredictable.
And so on with all the arts.
Now imagine that it’s not your own daily life but rather the arts which are in danger of extinction.
Imagine people, not statistics: men, women, children, elders, with a face, a history, a culture, threatened with annihilation.
See yourselves in those mirrors.
Understand that it’s not about fighting for them or in their place, but rather with them.
See yourselves as we Zapatistas see you.
Science is not your limit, your dead weight, your useless burden, the activity you should carry out in clandestinity or hiding in the closet of the academies and institutes.
Understand what we have already understood: that, as scientists, you all fight for humanity, that is to say, for life.
-*-
Yesterday Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés was explaining to us that the communities are, and have been for decades, our teachers and tutors. That the interest in science is new in Zapatismo. That it’s been incited by the new generations, by the Zapatista youth who want to know more and better how the world works. That out of the organized communities came this newest push that has us here in front of you.
It’s true. But what’s not new in Zapatismo is the struggle for life.
Even in our willingness and plans when faced with death, we were concerned with life from the start.
Those who are older, or who are interested despite not being older, may know about the uprising: the taking of 7 municipal capitals, the bombardments, the clashes with the military forces, the desperation of the government upon seeing that they couldn’t defeat us, the civil uprising that forced them to stop, what’s followed in these almost 23 years.
What you might not know is what I’m going to tell you next:
We prepared ourselves to kill and to die—Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés already summarized that for you. So then we had two options in front of us: the country as a whole would be ignited, or we would be annihilated. Imagine our bewilderment when neither the one nor the other took place. But that’s another story for which perhaps there will be another occasion.
Two options, but both had the common denominator of death and destruction. Even though you might not believe it, the first thing we did was prepare ourselves to live.
And I don’t mean those of us who fought in combat, those of us for whom knowledge of the resistance of different materials was useful for taking cover and finding shelter in combat and during bombardments; nor the knowledge that allowed the insurgent health workers to save the lives of dozens of Zapatistas.
I’m talking about the Zapatista bases of support, those to whom, as Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés explained last night, we owe the path, the pace, the direction and the destination as Zapatistas we are, just as we owe to them the interest in the arts, the sciences, and the effort to include us with the workers of the countryside and the cities, the world headquarters of struggle, resistance, and rebellion that’s called “the Sixth.”
Starting a few years prior to that apparently now distant January 1, in the Zapatista communities the so-called “reserve battalions” were formed.
The mission that was given to them was the most important one in the gigantic operation that carried thousands into combat: to survive.
For months they were given instruction. Thousands of boys, girls, women, men and elders trained to protect themselves from bullets and bombs; to gather and retreat in orderly fashion in case the army attacked or bombarded the towns; to place and locate deposits of food, water and medicine that would allow them to survive in the mountains for a long time.
“Do not die” was the only order that they were to follow.
The order that those of us who went to combat had was: “Don’t give up, don’t sell out, don’t give in.”
When we came back to the mountains and we met back up with our communities, we fused the two orders and made them into one alone: “Struggle to build our freedom.”
And we agreed to do so with everyone [todas, todos, todoas].
And we agreed that, if it wasn’t possible to do so in this world, then we would make another world, a bigger one, a better one, one where all the possible worlds fit, the ones that already exist and the ones we still haven’t imagined but that can already be found in the arts and sciences.
Thank you very much.
From CIDECI-Unitierra
SupGaleano
Mexico, December 2016.
From the Notebook of the Cat-Dog.
“What’s Missing”
I was in my hut, reviewing and analyzing some videos of plays by Maradona and Messi.
Like a premonition, a ball bounced inside. “Defensa Zapatista” arrived behind it, entering without giving notice or asking permission. Behind the girl came the notorious Cat-Dog.
“Defensa Zapatista” grabbed the ball and approached to look over my shoulder. I was busy trying to keep the Cat-Dog from eating the computer mouse so I didn’t notice that the girl was watching the videos with great interest.
“Hey Sup”, she said to me, “do you think Maradona and Messi are all that?”
I didn’t answer. From experience I know that Defensa Zapatista’s questions are either rhetorical or she’s not interested in hearing my answer.
She continued:
“But you’re not seeing the issue,” she said, “for as much as they might have of art and science, they both have a serious lack.”
Yes, that’s how she said it: “lack.” There I did interrupt her and I asked, “And just where did you get that word or where did you learn it?”
She responded, indignant: “That very bad Pedrito said it to me. He told me that I couldn’t play football because girls lack technique.”
“I got mad and I gave him a slap upside the head, because I didn’t know what that word meant and what if it’s a bad word. Of course, the very bad Pedrito ran to the education promotora to make a complaint about me and they called me in. I explained to the teacher the national and international situation, as they say, that the situation with the Hydra is really messed up and everything. And since the promotora understood that we have to support each other as the women we are, they didn’t reprimand me, but they sent me to look up what “lack” means. And well, I thought it was a better punishment than if they had sent me to eat squash soup.”
I nodded understandingly as I tried to get the mouse out of the Cat-Dog’s mouth.
“Well anyway, I went to look up what “lack” means on the internet in the office of the Junta de Buen Gobierno [Good Government Council] and I found that it’s a song by the musicians of the struggle, that it’s really happy and that everyone starts dancing and jumping around as if they gotten into an anthill of leafcutter ants. So I went to the education promotora and I told her that “lack” is a song that goes: “I wake up in the morning and I don’t feel like going to school.” She laughed and told me, “it’s ‘going to work.’” So then I told her that songs are up to each person’s taste and the problems they have. Which is to say I gave her the political explanation, but I don’t think she understood, because she just laughed. And then she sent me back to find out not about the song, but rather to look up what the word means. So I headed back and when I get there I had to wait for the guy who was on duty at the Junta to send out a denunciation. After that I was able to go in and there I saw that “lack” means you’re missing something. So I headed back to the education promotora and told her, and she said that there, now I’d seen that it wasn’t a bad word and she congratulated me. But since Pedrito was there eavesdropping I gave him another slap upside the head for going around saying that I lack technique. And then the promotora said she was going to tell my moms that I was doing that kind of thing, so I came to hide here because I know that nobody comes to see you.”
I took the jab heroically, as I was finally able to snatch the mouse back from the Cat-Dog.
“Defensa Zapatista” continued her long-winded speech:
“But don’t worry Sup, before coming in, first I peeked in to make sure you weren’t looking at pictures of naked ladies that, errrr, just to get it over with, Sup, it’s really unbelievable, and anyway I’m not going to make a complaint against you with the collective “The Women We Are,” but I’ll tell you plainly that it’s no good what you’re doing, because it just means you have a lack of moms, that is, like SupMoy says when he gets angry, no tienes madre” [you have no mother].
I’d like to clarify here that it’s not true what “Zapatista Defense” says, what happened is that I was taking a correspondence course on anatomy.
Anyway, before the girl could continue airing my secrets, I asked her why she said that Maradona and Messi were seriously lacking in something.
She was almost in the threshold of the door when she answered:
“Because they’re missing the most important thing: being women.”
-*-
“An Interstellar Trip”
Among the pile of papers and drawings that the late SupMarcos left, I found what I’m going to read to you below. It’s a sort of draft or notes for a script, or something like that, supposedly for a science fiction film. It’s called:
Toward What Does the Gaze Look?
Planet Earth. Some year in the distant future, let’s say 2024. Among the new tourist destinations, now it’s possible to travel to space and go around the world in a satellite adapted “ad hoc” for that purpose. The spaceship is a scale replica of the lunar satellite, with a big window that looks out, during the whole trip, onto Earth. On the other side, let’s say the back, there’s a sort of skylight, about the size of a house window, which always looks out onto the rest of the galaxy. The tourists, of all colors and nationalities, crowd up against the window that looks onto the planet of origin. They take “:selfies” and live-stream the images of the world, “blue like an orange,” to their friends and family. But not all the travelers are on that side. At least four people are in front of the opposite window. They’re forgotten about their respective cameras and they look out in ecstasy at the jumbled collage of celestial bodies: the snaking line of dusty light that is the Milky Way, the twinkling glimmer of stars that might not exist anymore, the frenetic dance of asteroids and planets.
One of the people is an artist; they’re not immobile, in their brain they imagine rhythms, lines and colors, movements, sequences, words, inert or mobile representations; their hands and fingers move involuntarily, their lips mumble incomprehensible words and sounds, their eyes open and close continuously. The arts see what they see and they see what could come to be seen.
Another one of the people is a scientist; their body doesn’t move at all, they look fixedly not at the closest lights and colors but rather at the most distant ones; in their brain they imagine unthought galaxies, inert and living worlds, stars being born, insatiable black holes, interplanetary vessels without flags. The sciences see what they see and they see what could come to be seen.
The third person is indigenous, of short stature, with dark skin and ancestral features. They look at and touch the window. Their mind and body press upon the solid, transparent material. In their brain they imagine the path and the pace, the speed and the rhythm; they imagine a destination that’s constantly changing. The original peoples see what they see and they see the life that could be created in order to be seen.
The fourth person is Zapatista, of changing color and features. They look through and delicately touch the glass with their hand. They take our their notebook and start writing frenetically. In their brain they begin to make calculations, lists of tasks, jobs to start, they trace maps, they dream. Zapatismo sees what it sees and sees the world that it will be necessary to build so that the arts, sciences, and original peoples can realize and fulfill what they see with their gaze.
At the end of the trip, while the other travelers acquire their last souvenirs in the “duty free” shops, the artist runs to their studio, or whatever it is, so that others [otros, otras, otroas] can see and feel what they see; the scientist immediately convokes other scientists because there are theories and formulas that need to be proposed, demonstrated, and applied; the indigenous person gets together with their fellow peoples and tells them what they saw in order that, collectively, the gaze can define the path, the pace, the company, the rhythm, the speed and the destination.
The Zapatista person goes to their community and in the community assembly explains and details everything that must be done so that the artist, the scientist, and the indigenous person can travel. The first thing the assembly does is critique the story or the tale or the script or whatever it’s called, because it’s missing the workers of the city and the countryside. It is proposed then that a commission write a letter to the deceased SupMarcos so that he puts the fifth element in the story, that is, the Cat Dog, because it already ate the internet cable and two flash drives belonging to the Tercios Compas, and it spends all its time chasing around the computer mouse, so better that they take it with them; and so that he also adds, as the sixth element, the Sixth, because without the Sixth the story isn’t complete. Having approved this, the assembly proposes, discusses, adds and subtracts, plans the timetables, distributes the tasks, votes to determine general agreement and names the commissions for each task.
Before the assembly is adjourned and everyone goes to start the tasks assigned to them, a little girl asks to have the floor. Without coming up to the front, standing almost at the back of the communal house, the girl strains to raise her voice and says: “I propose that on the list of things to take, that they include a soccer ball and a whole lot of pozol.” The rest of the assembly laughs uproariously. SubMoy, who’s sitting on the panel that’s coordinating the meeting, calls for order. Having achieved silence, SubMoy asks the girl what her name is. The girl responds, “My name is Defensa Zapatista,” and she puts on her best “you’ll never get past me, not even if you’re aliens” face. SubMoy then asks Defensa Zapatista why she is proposing this.
The girl climbs up on a wooden bench and argues: “The ball is because if they aren’t going to be able to play, then it’s pointless to go there where they want go. And the whole lot of pozol is to give them strength so they don’t faint along the journey. And also so that way out there, far away, where the other worlds are, they don’t forget where they came from”.
The little girl’s proposal is approved by popular acclaim. SubMoy is about to adjourn the meeting when “Defensa Zapatista” raises her little hand asking again for the floor. It is conceded to her. As the girl speaks, in one arm she holds a soccer ball and in the other hugs a small animal to her. It seems to be a dog… or a cat, or a cat-dog: “I just want to say that we haven’t filled out the team yet, but don’t worry, soon there are going to be more of us, sometimes it takes a while, but soon there are going to be more.”
I testify.
Woof-meow.
December 29, 2016
Translator’s Notes
i “La Nave de los Monstruos” (1960) or “The Ship of the Monsters,” a Mexican science fiction comedy film.
ii “Pozol de Barro,” prize to be awarded by the EZLN to the winning team in a 2005 soccer (football) competition between the Zapatista team and the FC Internationale de Milán.
iii Musical number by Piporro that appears in “La Nave de los Monstruos.”
iv Tor the robot and his jukebox lover are characters in the film.
v Literally “rice with milk,” a sweet rice dessert, but in this context an exclamation after a suggestive comment or as a general exclamation of excitement, as in “Yeehaw” or “Woohoo”
vi Director of cult classics Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead among many other horror films.
En español: http://enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx/2016/12/29/el-gato-perro-y-el-apocalipsis/
Until dignity becomes the custom
Jacinta Francisco Marcial, accompanied bu her two children: José Luis and Estela Hernández Jiménez. Photo: María Meléndez Parada, La Jornada
By: Francisco López Bárcenas [1]
Everything was going according to what was programmed until Estela Hernández, the daughter of Jacinta Francisco Marcial, [2] took the microphone and spoke her word. It was straight to the point from the beginning. She said that it was lamentable and shameful that 11 years has passed before the Attorney General of the Republic would recognize, obliged by a judge, that the process against her mother, the same as that against Alberta Alcántara and Teresa Hernández, the three Hñahñu women accused of kidnapping six federal police in August 2006, was an error. The Jaime Torres Bodet Auditorium, in the National Museum of Anthropology, murmured, and ceded its place to a silence more solemn than the act itself. The act prepared in order that the Mexican State would recognize the innocence of the three women unjustly processed and would offer them a public apology was transformed into a space for denouncing the state’s repression, the lack of justice, the insecurity, discrimination and racism.
It’s probable that Teresa would not see the effect that her words caused among those present, above all the discomfort in which it placed the attorney general of the Republic, located at the center of the scenario. She narrated how her mother was arrested, sentenced and then released, thanks to support from the Miguel Agustín Pro Juárez Human Rights Center. “It’s a simple example of the many illegal arbitrary acts that authorities who have an official title, appointment and recognition commit in our country that is Mexico,” she said, and added: “Now it is known that it’s not necessarily the criminals that are in prison, it’s the poor that don’t have money, those without the knowledge to defend themselves, those the powerful subject to their will.” Next she was asked: “How many innocent people are in prison today for a crime they didn’t commit or for a non-existent crime? How many kidnappers, criminals authorized with a title and legally appointed go free, charging our taxes, incarcerating, persecuting or harassing with a fabricated crime?”
Then she referred to the motive for the event. She said that the public apology and recognition of innocence that the PGR offered her mother and the two other Hñahñu women that day was not enough to repair the damage that the false accusation and simulated process had caused them. She clarified that they did not want the money for the reparation of the damage because their wealth is not based on money: “Our existence today has to do with our solidarity with the 43 teachers college students that are missing, with the thousands of dead, disappeared and persecuted, with our political prisoners, with my fallen teacher compañeros, with my compañeros that are hunted for defending what rightly belongs to us. I ask for them because that is the treatment we receive for seeking better living and working conditions.” And she continued in that direction. “To the current victims, to my brother social fighters, to my fellow teachers that are fighting, to the fallen, the disappeared, incarcerated, exiled, persecuted, terrorized that defend and fight in favor of human rights, I want to tell you that after experiencing this State terrorism, we assume the pain and we conquer fear so that victory will be ours.”
These are the three women that were wrongly accused, convicted and imprisoned for kidnapping 6 police agents!
While I was listening to her, I was thinking that the event was similar in many ways to the public trials that indigenous communities hold for those who violate their norms of co-existence, where when they already have the evidence they exhibit it in front of those affected. Estela Hernández, converted into the voice of Mexico’s aggrieved, pointed to the institutions responsible: the National Commission for the Development of Indigenous Peoples and the National Human Rights Commission, which were both quiet “despite knowing about the case and told us that nothing could be done because it was a very serious crime.” She demanded that they are put to work for truth, and that they not only make recommendations when other non-governmental institutions have already made them. She told the Attorney General of the Republic that they were not content or happy about the act of apology and she asked that he cease the repression against the indigenous peoples, the persecution of social fighters and demanded the liberation of political prisoners, “whose only crime is aspiring to better conditions of work, life and a just and dignified homeland.”
And she closed with a convincing phrase: “This case changed the way we look at life. We now know that it isn’t necessary to commit a crime to be disappeared, persecuted or be put in prison. For those of us that continue fighting for liberty, justice, democracy and the sovereignty of Mexico, for our homeland, for life, for humanity, we are always and forever with you, […] until dignity becomes the custom.” Her words were marked by the applause of those present that stood up and agreed with the message. At the end of the event, we all left the place thinking that the governmental apology and recognition that the rights of the three indigenous women that had been violated were important, but their greater relevance would be that we should work so that it didn’t happen again, because no reason exists for it to be repeated.
–Ω–
Translator’s Notes
[1] Francisco López Bárcenas is an indigenous lawyer and writer from Oaxaca
[2] Read Jacinta’s story here: http://centroprodh.org.mx/en/?p=453
———————————————————-
Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Thursday, February 23, 2017
http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2017/02/23/opinion/021a1pol
Re-Published with English interpretation by the Chiapas Support Committee
Chiapas Support Committee 