
OCTOBER 2013 ZAPATISTA NEWS SUMMARY
In Chiapas
1. Alberto Patishtán To Be Free Soon! – The big news this month regarding Alberto Patishtán is that both chambers of the Mexican Congress wrote and moved through the legislative process legislation to expand the criminal law concerning presidential pardons. After Mexico’s Supreme Court denied Alberto Patishtán’s appeal for a recognition of innocence and sent it to a federal appeals court in Chiapas, which also denied his appeal, legislators went to work on an amendment to the current penal code. The amendment permits the president, upon a request from the legislature, to grant pardon to a person who has been sentenced to prison and whose human rights have been seriously violated by the criminal proceedings. Several days ago Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto said that he would grant the pardon and that Patishtán would be released from prison on October 31. Alberto Patishtán is an adherent to the EZLN’s Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle. There are three other Sexta adherents, also unjustly imprisoned: Antonio Estrada Estrada, Miguel Demeza Jiménez and Alejandro Diaz Sántiz. You can read the recent La Jornada interview with Patishtán here.
2. Mitzitón Announces Community Ecology Police – The Mitzitón Ejido, an adherent to the EZLN’s Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle, announced that the ejido has created Community Ecology Police to protect their forests from illegal logging. The ejido assembly agreed to create the ecology police because “the government has done nothing to avoid the illegal logging that the group led by Carmen Díaz López, Gregorio Gómez Jiménez and Francisco Gómez Díaz has been carrying out since 2009, despite denunciations presented to the a government agent.” The announcement also reported that the ejido rights of those same illegal loggers and the 23 families that follow them were terminated. Moreover, the ejido assembly agreed to re-admit 40 Evangelical families that left the ejido 14 years ago. It appears that the government was involved in brokering these agreements as a means to end the on-going violence in Mitzitón. The state government provided money for the construction of new homes to the 23 families whose rights were terminated. Part of the agreement made with the 40 returning Evangelical families involved each family paying one thousand pesos to the assembly for the time that they were absent and agreeing to follow the rules set by the assembly. The Protestants, members of the Wings of the Eagle Church that Pastor Esdras Alonso González heads. He is the leader of the so-called Army of God. Mitzitón is an ejido located in the municipality (county) of San Cristóbal de las Casas. (For those familiar with the area, Mitzitón is situated on land near the junction of the road to Comitán and the road to Ocosingo/Palenque, near the big Army base.) Mitzitón consists of 300 families and 4,479.9 acres (1,813 hectares). The ecology reserve is composed of 3,953.6 acres(1,600 hectares) of pine forest.
3. The New Community of Che Guevara Faces Eviction Attempts – Che Guevara is a Zapatista community on recuperated land in the official municipality of Motozintla, located in the Sierras of Western Chiapas, bordering on Guatemala. It is part of the autonomous Zapatista municipality of Tierra y Libertad, which runs along the border with Guatemala. The Good Government Junta in La Realidad denounced the fact that various local government officials have been trying to drive away the Zapatistas that live in Che Guevara with numerous provocations, and that on October 26 these same provocateurs started to construct a house on Che Guevara’s recuperated land. Building a house on land recuperated by the Zapatistas has often been the start of dividing a community and the eventual eviction of the Zapatistas. It is one of the government’s counterinsurgency tools.
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Compiled monthly by the Chiapas Support Committee.The primary sources for our information are: La Jornada, Enlace Zapatista and the Fray Bartolome de las Casas Human Rights Center (Frayba).
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Chiapas Support Committee/Comité de Apoyo a Chiapas
P.O. Box 3421, Oakland, CA 94609
Email: cezmat@igc.org
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“I Have Been Free From Day One:” Patishtán
By: Hermann Bellinghausen
**A prisoner since 2000, he demands that his innocence is admitted
“Inside myself I have been free from day one. They tortured me psychologically, threatened me, but I never fell for the game of accepting blame.” It is his security that always makes professor Alberto Patishtán seem happy. “It is very sad that the judges did not admit my innocence, like that’s not important to them. They let themselves govern by obscurity,” he says. He radiates the clarity and interior peace of the good warrior.
“I am aware that the deputies and senators are looking for some solution to my case. Independently of what they want or are able to do, what interests me is that it be made clear that I am innocent. They have to give me freedom and honor,” he maintains on the patio of a house in Mexico City, where he stays since some weeks ago while he receives radiation treatments for the (benign) pituitary tumor he suffers, for which he was operated on last year, and which has grown again. He does not seem alarmed by that or by anything.
“I don’t know if there is a countersign for holding me prisoner,” he expresses in and extensive interview with La Jornada. “There is a time that it seems so. They do everything in reverse. It seems that they do not reflect, nor are they flexible. At times I think that the authorities are the ones that ought to be in prison, and we should be outside, because they don’t judge like they should.”
After 13 years behind bars, Patishtán is no longer an unknown. Is he a political prisoner, a prisoner of conscience, emblematic? He is that and more. Unjustly condemned to 60 years, he has learned a lot about the justice system and the human condition. He has become a defender of the rights of the prison population, starting with the simple fact of not letting themselves be conquered: “I keep the consciousness that I have.”
“Perhaps the authority thinks that it’s going to have an enemy upon releasing me. If it were convenient for the Judicial Power of the Federation, they would have set me free, but there is money to be made. When there is money, they will set anyone free. They know that I am innocent, but without money there is no justice,” he insists. “I have seen many cases where the prisoners talk and admit that they are guilty, but they have influence, thus they talk to you as an equal. The person that has done the crime tells you. And they have gone free. I realize that we are within that system.”
The release of the Acteal paramilitaries
Take the case of the paramilitaries that were prisoners because of the Acteal massacre. “I knew them all in El Amate, and some would tell you: ‘yes I participated,’ and others that denied it admitted that they were from the same group, that they cooperated in all that, that they acted. It surprised me that they would leave and not me. To what is that due?” And he adds: “I am not the only one, I know other cases of evident injustice.” He has seen some of them leave. Others remain there.
He has his conclusions: “Justice must be on top of everything else; truth on top of any lie. And as my conscience is clean, I stay calm, secure about what I’m going to do. That gives me the energy to go on, and I can help those that have been in the same situation,” adds the Tzotzil teacher, who was rewarded in 2010 by Bishop Samuel Ruiz García, for his labor in defense of the human rights of indigenous prisoners in Chiapas with the distinction JTatic Samuel JCanan Lum.
The government’s commissioner for Dialogue with Indigenous Peoples, Jaime Martínez Veloz, visited him months ago. “He told me that he was worried because he knows that I am innocent,” he says. “I understood it as a yes, as a no from the government. I told him not to worry, to better occupy himself.”
He remembers the early days of his incarceration. He recognizes that “when they grabbed me, the most painful thing to think about is the injustice; you are left with tantrums from that, until you are full of rancor, of hate. For me that was another prison. It doesn’t let you advance. When I got close to the things of God, I began to forgive. Before, I wasn’t into religion as much, but thanks to spirituality I left that prison. It took me a few years. The manual work of artesanía also helped, it took away those thoughts. Now I have dedicated myself to transmitting it to other prisoners.”
He does not attribute his transformation to anything particularly religious. “In prison, people from the Church always attend, and they approach you, and you talk to them, but I was to realize things. I studied the social sciences and I reached the sixth semester at the University of Grijalva Valley, in Tuxtla Gutiérrez. Afterwards I was a teacher in my hometown of El Bosque. My studies have also helped me to approach the compañeros and free them from that prison that is the worst. I have helped those that approach. Or I approach them, to center them, to take the tantrum away from them. There are people that don’t eat; they have bitter saliva, as we say. It has fallen to me to free them from that. When that liberation arrives, you become more active.”
The Tzotzil professor says that he has never stopped struggling for his freedom, and that while doing it he participates in the struggles of the other prisoners that are there unjustly. As adherents to the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle, dozens of Chiapas prisoners have maintained their innocence and achieved their freedom. Some were support bases of the Zapatista National Liberation Army.
Spirituality, more than religion (Catholic in his case), has been a weapon for resisting. “Some of the compañeros in solidarity with The Voice of El Amate (La Voz del Amate) were Evangelicals. They told me about their experiences; that their pastors see the situation another way. They ask that you conform inside the prison. These compañeros did not see the Scriptures as concrete help for confronting authority. The pastors do not want to have authority as their enemy. They gain from it, my compañeros used to say. ‘Those religious men are not saved nor are they free because they don’t do anything for us. They want us to be resigned, which they told me is the will of God.”
In his case there was no special priest that would counsel him. “Prison teaches you to orient yourself; the same authorities with their abuses give you the tools for resisting. An injustice gives you strength; nothing else remains. The injustices impede you from being at peace with yourself; they don’t let you be free. You have to find that peace to continue forward.”
Always a critic of the penal system that he has suffered, he relates: “We are fighting for more public defenders. In the Cereso where I am there is only one. We speak four languages in there and there are more than 500 prisoners, almost all indigenous, and the public defender is not familiar with their languages. There is a little Tzeltal woman, the director himself commented to me, who has been in process for 10 years. Another has 12, without a lawyer. Imagine that they turn out to be innocent, or that their sentence is six years. Who is going to make reparations for the years that they lost?”
He comments about his “effect” on other prisoners. Now, relatives of indigenous Chiapas prisoners seek him out, “people that I don’t know if I met, who are suffering bad treatment” in Islas Marías (where the former Chiapas Secretary of Government, Noé Castañón León, wanted to send him although he had to accept having him in a federal prison in Guaymas, Sinaloa, for several months, until Patishtán achieved his return to San Cristóbal de las Casas).
About his state of health he expresses: “The news that tumor remains there isn’t going to scare me either. It seems that I am stable with treatment. The tumor grows but it doesn’t shake me. There are moments that it worries me, but of little importance.” His joys? “Having one more day to laugh. My children Héctor (present during the conversation) and Gabriela (in Chiapas, taking care of her baby Genesis, who made the professor a grandfather) have helped me, and they have learned with the struggle.”
“Prison is going to get worse”
He remembers the not so distant days in which The Voice of El Amate and Those in Solidarity with The Voice of El Amate were resisting in the San Cristóbal and Cintalapa prisons. Only Alejandro Díaz Sántiz and he remain prisoners. “They used to worry when their names didn’t appear in the newspaper, or theirs appeared and not mine. Don’t be afraid, he would tell them. Don’t you know that where I am you are, and where you are I am, and that it falls to all of us to give a hand to the others? Alejandro (with 15 years in prison) was the most quiet, but he has learned. He felt betrayed. We all do. When the other nine left he said: ‘watch out! Patishtán needs a secretary.’ And right now he is representing the complaints of the prisoners that approach him.”
The protests of the prisoners of the Sixth Declaration provided improvements at prison number five in San Cristóbal: “They respect the visits more. In April we got an agreement with a private clinic so that consultations would be held with doctors and dentists every 15 days. They give medical attention and patent medicines. The women, some 50 of them, are examined with a gynecologist. On May 10, the prison workers wanted to celebrate Mothers Day, and we got a mariachi to come. We got firewood for the women’s kitchen from the wooden vegetable crates. There goes Alejandro to start it and deliver it to the compañeras. Recently, a beautiful mural was painted on the patio. Some solidarity visitors were permitted to introduce paint and paint brushes.”
The other prisoners get worried every time that he leaves for the doctor. “Are you going away now? No, I’m just going to a consultation. What about that suitcase? Well, it’s just a little clothes. It’s that if you go away, Patishtán, and it is no longer seen that we are struggling, the prison is going to get worse.”
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Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Translation: Chiapas Support Committee
Thursday, October 24, 2013
En español: http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2013/10/24/politica/002n1pol
IS IT POSSIBLE TO DEFEAT MONSANTO?
By: Raúl Zibechi
Diverse movements and multiple actions, both programmed and spontaneous, through denunciations, and all types of mobilizations that converge against a corporation that represents a serious danger to the health of humanity are besieging one of the world’s largest multinationals. Establishing the variety of existing initiatives and learning about them can be a way of comprehending a new kind of cross-border movement, capable of articulating activists all over the world in concrete activities.
The encampment at the gates of the seed plant that Monsanto is building in Malvinas Argentinas, 14 kilometers from Córdoba, is one of the best examples of the mobilization underway. The multinational plans to install 240 silos of genetically modified corn seeds for the purpose of arriving at 3.5 million hectares planted. The plant will use millions of liters of agro-chemicals for the care of the seeds and a part of the effluents “will be released into the water and soil, provoking grave harm,” as Medardo Ávila Vázquez of the Network of Doctors of Fumigated Peoples maintains.
The movement against Monsanto won victories in Ituzaingó, a Córdoba barrio near the place where they intend to install the corn seed plant. The Mothers of Ituzaingó (movement) was born there ten years ago. The movement discovered that 80 percent of the children in the barrio have agro-chemicals in their blood and that it is one of the causes of the deaths and deformities in their families. In 2012, for the first time they won a lawsuit against a producer and a fumigator, (who were) condemned to three years of conditional incarceration without going to prison.
The encampment at Malvinas Argentinas is now one month old, maintained by the Struggle for Life Malvinas Neighbors Assembly. They achieved winning the support of a good part of the population: according to official polls, 87 percent of population want a popular consultation and 58 percent reject the multinational’s installation, but 73 percent are afraid to express an opinion against Monsanto for fear of being harmed (Página 12, 09/19/13).
The campers resisted an attempt to evict them from the construction union (UOCRA) that is adhered to the CGT, harassment from police and provincial authorities, although they have the support of the mayor, the unions and the social organizations. They received support from Adolfo Pérez Esquivel, a recipient of the 1980 Nobel Peace Prize, and from Nora Cortiñas, of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo. They were able to paralyze the plant’s construction by impeding the entry of trucks.
The siege of Monsanto also arrived in the small tourist town of Pucón in southern Chile, on Villarrica Lake, where 90 of the transnational’s executives coming from the United States, Argentina, Brazil and Chile arrived at a luxury hotel to hold a convention. Environmental groups, cooperatives and Mapuche collectives from Villarrica and Pucón dedicated these days to “exposing” the presence of Monsanto in the country (El Clarín, 10/13/13).
Those are just two of the many actions that are happening in the whole Latin American region. To my way of looking at it, the varied mobilizations in more than 40 countries permit us to draw some conclusions, from the point of view of anti-systemic activism:
In the first place, the mass actions in which tens of thousands participate are important, because they permit demonstrating to the general population that the opposition to corporations like Monsanto, and therefore to genetically modified foods, is not a question of minority criticism. In this sense, worldwide days, like that of October 12, are indispensible.
The mobilizations of small groups, dozens or hundreds of people, like the ones that happen in Pucón and in Malvinas Argentinas, as well as in various mining undertakings in the Andean Cordillera, are as necessary as the big demonstrations. On the one hand, it is a way to be permanently present in the media. Above all, it is the best path for forging militants, besieging the multinationals and publicizing criticisms of all their business initiatives.
It is in the small groups where ingenuity usually flourishes and within their breasts the new forms of being able to innovate with political culture and protest methods are born. There is where community ties and strong ties between people can be born, which are so necessary for deepening the struggle. After one month of camping in Malvinas Argentinas, the demonstrators “began to put up adobe walls; they constructed a clay oven and started an organic vegetable garden by the side of the route” (Día a Día de Córdoba, Octubre 13, 2013).
In the third place, it is fundamental to support the denunciations with scientific arguments and, if possible, to involve authorities in the matter. The case of the Argentine biologist Raúl Montenegro, Alternative Nobel Prize in 2004 (Right Livelihood Award), who committed himself to the cause against Monsanto and to the Mothers of Ituzaingó, shows that the commitment of scientists is as necessary as it is possible.
The fourth question is the importance of the opinions of the common people, distributing their beliefs and feelings about genetically modified foods (or any initiative of the extractive model). The subjectivity of the people is accustomed to showing traits that do not contemplate the most rigorous academic studies, but their opinions are just as important.
Finally, I believe that it’s necessary to place within view not only one multinational like Monsanto, one of the worst of the many that operate in the world. In reality, this is just the most visible part of a model of accumulation and development that we call extractivism, which turns around the expropriation of the commons and the conversion of nature into merchandise. In this sense, it is important to emphasize what there is in common between the transgenic monocrops, mining and real estate speculation. The latter (real estate speculation) is the mode that extractivism assumes in the cities. If we defeat Monsanto, we can conquer the other multinationals.
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Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Translation: Chiapas Support Committee
Friday, October 18, 2013
En español: http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2013/10/18/opinion/024a1pol
ART IS A REVOLUTIONARY WEAPON, SAYS ILLUSTRATOR EMORY DOUGLAS
By: Juan José Olivares
** “Obama is a puppet at the service of the corporations… he is not very different from George W. Bush,” he expresses in an interview
** Minister of Culture of that group’s political party, he asserts that: “they only demanded social programs from the government for the unprotected”
** Today, civil rights in the US is set aside, he says
** The creator of the front pages for the Black Panther newspaper exhibits at Vértigo Galería
Emory Douglas is the revolutionary artist. That’s how Eldridge Cleaver, member and publisher of the Black Panther Party (BPP) baptized him. Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale founded the BPP in the United States in the 1960’s, after the death of Malcolm X. The premise of this political entity was the inflexible defense of the Afro American community’s civil rights. The movement was known in many parts of the world for its left posture.
Emory Douglas was the creator of the art and designs on the front and back pages of the Black Panther Newspaper, which, he says, achieved publishing up to 400,000 copies per week. He was also the Minister of Culture for that party, from 1967 to the beginning of the ‘80s, when a hostile tirade from the government finished it off. The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) came to consider it a public enemy, among other reasons, because some members carried guns, “under the legal framework of the United States Constitution,” says Emory Douglas, who used the attractive publicity methods of that time to change them in to information weapons.
“Art is a revolutionary weapon,” he comments in an interview with La Jornada, held at Vértigo Galería, where his works, the front pages of the mentioned newspaper, are exhibited in a show that will close next November.
Genius of the cartoon, the collage and recycling
His images illustrate the words of his community, persecuted by racism, which detonated “self-defense in the face of civil rights violations carried out by the government. We only demanded that they carry out social programs for our community and unprotected people. For example, we wanted free breakfasts for all the children in the country… That was a big problem for the government,” ironizes Douglas, whose ingenuity as a cartoonist, in collage and recycling, gave the newspaper an explosive message.
Today, those low-cost printed illustrations (like in photo static copies), have been mounted in different museums of contemporary art, and have even been the motive for a book, but initially they wanted “to educate the people about what the government wasn’t doing for the most unprotected classes.”
In 2012, Douglas participated in the Zapanteras Project, a meeting between the Zapatista Movement and the Black Panthers, represented with the assembly of seven of his works, which were embroidered by indigenous hands, and which incorporated in textiles, Zapatista and Maya symbols.
It is a response by nature. He asserts that United States President “Barack Obama is a puppet at the service of the corporations. He does not talk much about the Black community’s progress. He does not mention anything about political prisoners… We know that his term is not very different from that of George W. Bush, or from that of many other presidents in the United States. Before he arrived in office, the people had hope, but, in the end, he was not very different from Bush.”
The art of Emory Douglas is inflexible, confrontational and even violent, but it is also festive and inspiring. He was looking for a premise: returning power to the people.
He added: “The connection of art and politics was a natural way to inform. The images played an important role. I observed, I understood and I communicated. I knew that artistic expression is fundamental for inspiring change, for spreading ideas, the demand for social programs. It is possible to change consciences through it. The media manipulated information. And culture had to be used for disseminating ideas.”
–How are civil rights in the United States today?
–They are set aside. Things have progressed, but are forgotten. September 11, 2001 created a psychosis in the government, which started to be more rigid as to that theme. The least protected are those that suffer the consequences.
He joins the Movement
Emory came to the party after connecting with the black arts movement. He went to a meeting in which he sought to make a poster for an event planned by Malcolm X’s widow, at which he met the Black Panther leaders.
“The first time that I met Eldridge Cleaver there were texts, pencils, erasers… colors on a table and he asked me: What can you do with that? Later he recommended that I should be careful, because if the police caught me with those sketches, they could arrest me,” he comments.
“Those illustrations were, in a way, catharsis for me. The colors –primaries– were essential, because they were those used in publicity at that time,” he said.
The exhibit of Emory’s work will stay open until the end of this coming November in Vértigo Galería, located in Colima 23 local A, in Colonia Roma. More information by telephone 5207-3590 and at info@vertigogaleria.com. Visiting hours are on Monday to Friday from 12 to 8 PM, and on Saturdays from 12 to 7 and Sundays from 12 to 6 PM.
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Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Translation: Chiapas Support Committee
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Source in Spanish (En español): http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2013/10/10/espectaculos
Some 90 Dead Bodies Remain Under Muddy Ground in La Pintada
** Slow advance of the rescue that soldiers and moles carry out
** Inhabitants of Guerrero support volunteers with water and food
[Members of the Army, moles from the states of Mexico, Nayarit, Oaxaca and Guanajuato, and even from Peru, work to rescue the dead bodies of some 90 people buried by the collapse of a hill in La Pintada. Photo: Javier Verdín]
By: Héctor Briseño, Correspondent
Atoyac de Álvarez, Guerrero, October 3, 2013
The mudslide that buried dozens of residents of La Pintada, in the municipality of Atoyac de Álvarez, in the Costa Grande, continues imposing, almost intact, a giant of red earth that covers dozens of houses and lanes of the coffee-growing community, where desolation reigns, interrupted only by the sound of the river that descends with force from the high part of the Sierra, almost in the heart of Guerrero
By land or by air, the avalanche dominates from anyplace that one looks at it, and on top of it protrude the tire of a small truck, a vehicle leveled, a stove, the roof of a house, a shoe’s heel, a garage, rocks, sand and branches.
“It’s very difficult”
The 20 topos (moles) that have carried out recue work since September 22 seem insufficient for removing the “treacherous” mud that descended with force, as if spit from the hill, last September 16, which they have not been able to remove, except at a few sites counted on the fingers of one hand. The survivors calculate that there are some 90 cadavers under the mud, because it was a holiday when they were buried.
At one side of the little La Pintada Zócalo, in a kiosk that is painted in the country’s colors, the chief of the group of Topos Azteca (Aztec Moles), veterans of the 1985 Mexico City earthquake, Héctor Méndez Rosales, describes with two words the operation that they have undertaken as volunteers: “it’s very difficult.”
He calculated that in the two Independence Day mudslides, when the majority of the town got together to eat pozole, the community was buried with a hundred thousand cubic meters of mire in an area of 400 by 400 meters and some six meters of depth.
The rescuers have placed boards, doors and rocks over the muddy ground so as not to drown when walking, because “it absorbs you, you get in up to your waist and you can’t get out.” There for the excavations are suspended while it rains, which is every day, besides at night, because the risk of another mudslide exists.
With the passing of the days, the mud has hardened and is more difficult to remove. “The work is artisan,” details the chief of the moles. He points out that there are still mountain villages incommunicado, like Nueva Delhi, Puerto Gallo, El Molote, Las Delicias, Arrayán, Toro Muerto, Piloncillo, El Tambor and El Iris, whose inhabitants carry food supplies and water by helicopter.
Méndez Rosales detailed that the moles, men and women decked out with orange suits, have helped to rescue 10 bodies from the mud. He explained that: “the people come and tell us where they think that their relatives could be at the moment of the mudslide. You make their grief yours.”
“We came to help because we had friends here”
A group of 10 soldiers make excavations at the other side of the town, some 50 meters from the rock engraved with hieroglyphics that give the community, founded almost 50 years ago, its name, in which some 600 people were living at the moment of the mudslide.
A detachment of almost 40 members of the Army and 10 more of the Ministry of the Navy accompany the 16 inhabitants of La Pintada that have decided to stay to look for family members and to form nighttime guards, divided in two groups, to avoid the solitary homes that survived being looted, because the mud divided the village in two.
All the people that arrive in La Pintada walking must be noted on a list, “for their security, there’s not going to be another mudslide and we don’t know what their name is,” explained an Army official.
Landslides and washouts invade the road that joins La Pintada with El Paraíso, the community with which communication by road from Atoyac is now re-established.
Groups of people that go from Atoyac and El Paraíso, with picks, shovels and pots of food, walk along the 10 kilometers of constantly ascending road.
“We came to help in any way we can, we came because we had friends here,” express Francisco and Israel Bautista, volunteers from the Santa María de Guadalupe parish, in El Paraíso, who offer water to the reporter and the photographer from La Jornada, while they lead them through a shortcut on a wooded hill.
“Here is the burial ground. Yesterday we buried a mother and her two daughters. The day before yesterday, a three-year old girl,” Francisco says while he points to a group of crosses on a path next to the road. He adds: “we come every day, we bring tortillas to the topos, we are going to help in whatever, we must help.”
The young man walks without stopping to La Pintada pulling wheelbarrows with dirt and whatever he can offer to the soldiers and rescuers dressed in orange.
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Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Translation: Chiapas Support Committee
Friday, October 4, 2013
En español: http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2013/10/04/politica/011n1pol
MEXICANS SEEK ASYLUM AS DRUG VIOLENCE PERSISTS
SAN DIEGO October 3, 2013 (AP)
By ELLIOT SPAGAT and MARK STEVENSON Associated Press
Elizabeth Silva was walking her younger sister to school when two hooded men burst into her house and pumped three bullets into her father. When her 14-year-old brother rushed out of his bedroom to see what was happening, he was also shot dead.
The killings in a sun-seared farming region of western Mexico prompted her to board a bus to the U.S. border to seek asylum, a hugely popular escape route in a remote area that has seen some of the country’s worst drug-fueled violence. As gunfire rang in the distance, her family hurried out of the cemetery after burying the bodies and fled the same day.
Asylum requests from Mexico have surged in recent years and, while the U.S. government doesn’t say from where within Mexico, The Associated Press has found that many are now arriving at the border from the “Tierra Caliente,” or Hot Country, about 250 miles west of Mexico City. Word has spread there that U.S. authorities are releasing women and children while they await hearings before immigration judges, emboldening others to follow.
The AP counted 44 women and children from the Tierra Caliente released in San Diego in just one month, from Aug. 26 to Sept. 27, including the 25-year-old Silva, her 2-year-old daughter, mother, grandmother and sister.
Many from the town of Buenavista carry a formal letter from town official Ramon Contreras stating they are victims of persecution.
“The residents of this town are under death threat from a drug cartel … please provide them the protection they request,” the letter reads.
The Tierra Caliente is so completely ruled by one vicious drug cartel that residents in a half-dozen towns formed self-defense groups earlier this year to try to drive out the gang. Now, they are fleeing in droves, saying their rebellion has made them targets for cartel killings.
“There have been many, many families going to the United States to seek asylum,” said Hipolito Mora, a leader of the patrols in the La Ruana neighborhood of Buenavista, a municipality of 42,000.
The Knights Templar cartel, a pseudo-religious gang that takes its name from an ancient monastic order, has set fire to lumber yards, packing plants and passenger buses in a medieval-like reign of terror. The cartel extorts protection payments from cattlemen, growers and businesses, prompting the vigilante patrols in February. That drew more attacks from the cartel, which sought to cut off the area’s main economic activity, growing limes.
A Buenavista politician was hacked to death and a Navy vice admiral killed in an ambush. In April, 10 people were killed in a cartel ambush as they returned from a meeting with state officials to ask for help.
The flight from Tierra Caliente comes as asylum requests from throughout Mexico more than quadrupled to 9,206 in 2012 from six years earlier, when the Mexican government launched an offensive against drug cartels. The Department of Homeland Security says an average of 11 Mexicans sought asylum daily at San Diego border crossings from Aug. 9 to late September.
More than 90 percent of asylum requests from Mexico are eventually denied. To be granted asylum, an immigration judge must find an applicant suffered persecution or has a well-grounded fear of persecution on grounds of race, religion, nationality, membership in a social group or political opinion. Immigration lawyers said most asylum seekers are held in detention centers, but Silva and many others have been freed while awaiting a decision.
House Judiciary Committee Chairman Bob Goodlatte, R-Virginia, criticized DHS for the releases, saying the asylum seekers may never return to court. “I am concerned that credible fear claims are being exploited by illegal immigrants in order to enter and remain in the United States,” he wrote Janet Napolitano in August, before she stepped down as DHS secretary.
DHS said in a statement that custody decisions are made on factors including ties to the community, flight risk and criminal record. They wouldn’t comment on releases.
Some asylum seekers have said they were turned back at the border, including Isamar Gonzalez, 20, of Buenavista, and her mother. “We told them we wanted asylum and they laughed at us,” Gonzalez said.
But many others make it across after an initial screening. Candelaria Aguilar feared the cartel would kidnap her 14- and 10-year-old sons and turn them into hit men. She made the trip to San Diego after her sister-in-law called from Los Angeles to say she had been freed pending a court hearing on her asylum request.
“It got me fired up,” said the 30-year-old single mother, who also was released by U.S. immigration officials with her children last week after one night in custody. “This is the only way out.”
Ynez Valencia Valladares, 23, said she boarded a bus to Tijuana with her children, ages 7, 5 and 3, unsure what to do after her brothers were killed on the family ranch. A Tijuana taxi driver told her to claim asylum, and she and her children were released after one night in custody.
Elizabeth Silva’s path toward asylum began when the hooded men kicked open the door to the family’s home in Apatzingan around 8 a.m. on Sept. 2, killing her father, Jorge Silva, 47, and brother, Jose Manuel Silva, 14, according to the Michoacan state attorney general’s office. Police made no arrests and haven’t disclosed a possible motive. Silva suggested it had something to do with extortion payments.
“Everyone in town pays up,” she said. “Everyone.”
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Stevenson reported from Mexico City.
Notes from the Course “Freedom According to the Zapatistas”
By: Gilberto López y Rivas
It was a privilege to attend the first grade course “Freedom according to the Zapatistas” as a student, which was paralleled in various territories of the autonomous governments, as well as in the Indigenous Center of Integral Capacity Building –Unitierra, in San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, from August 12 to 17.
Because of its multiple political, strategic, programmatic and tactical meanings in the current tragedy of a country devastated by the government of national treason and its corporate-repressor associates (including organized crime), the course imparted by Indigenous peoples from the different ethnicities that make up the autonomous Zapatista governments constitutes an urgent call to the national conscience, to men and women with dignity and integrity to organize, resist and struggle for a better world where those that govern obey the peoples, departing from the seven principles: 1. Serve and don’t self-serve, 2. Represent and don’t supplant, 3. Construct and don’t destroy, 4. Obey and don’t order, 5. Propose and don’t impose, 6. Convince and don’t conquer, 7. Go down and not up, and based on the maximum ethic that reigns in the EZLN: “Everything for everyone, for us, nothing,” that is, the opposite poll of conduct with which the Mexican political class acts.
Throughout this memorable week, accompanied by our Votán, the tutor or “guardian-heart of the people and the land,” and of our textbooks for reading-consultation-discussion, the students enter into the studying the history of autonomous government. The arduous years of clandestinity are remembered, with the arrival of the Forces of National Liberation in the Lacandón Jungle on November 17, 1983; the 10 years of preparation that precede the declaration of war; the slow but extended process of awareness about the role to play “when so many men and women emerge that think about the rest, that rebel to demand land and liberty.”
They remember the establishment of 38 Zapatista autonomous rebel municipalities (municipios autónomos rebeldes zapatistas, Marez), once the failure to fulfill the San Andrés Accords was consummated and, afterwards, the teachers explained the conditions and problems that led to the creation of the five Good Government Juntas on August 8, 2003. The students learned how government is organized within the community, municipal and regional ambits. With linguistic gyrations and a large capacity for synthesis and conceptualization, our teachers demonstrated the course of construction and strengthening of their autonomy by means of a collective practice of men, women, children and elderly, with trials and errors, throwing out what doesn’t work and changing what’s necessary. “If something goes wrong, we make it better. It’s only been 19 years that we have been constructing our autonomy, against 520 years of oppression!”
In the conveyance, participation and thematic content of the course, they emphasized the scope and victories of women in the autonomous governments, in the commissions of education, health, productive projects, in the changes that take place in day-to-day life, domestic work and care of children, as well as in sports and public events. Here also, the women teachers remembered how in clandestinity the integration of women started in the militias, in the ranks of the insurgents, making the current gender parity in the three levels of government a manifesto. The machistas (macho men), which there are, now are faced with the autonomous authorities, the assemblies and the right that women have to report any mistreatment. If the woman holds a position, “the compañero has to take care of the children, make the food, wash the clothes,” my Votán commented to me.
Another important theme of the classes was that of resistance, because the bad government has not left the Zapatistas in peace for one single day. They know well that the [communications] media are powerful instruments of propaganda that lie all the time; therefore, they have created their own communications media. They identify the political parties of all signs as instruments of division and manipulation that promote the attacks against the Zapatistas peoples and their governments. But in this conflict, the Zapatistas assume a non-confrontational policy that has accrued to their benefit: “we have tried to not become irritated to avoid violence. By not becoming irritated, we have come out winning. With our patience, we have been able to resolve many problems. Our strength is our organization, without attacking those who do us harm.” That’s the way the teachers refer to how the “party member brothers” have become so dependent on government aid and programs that they abandon productive work and sell their land, while the Zapatistas collectively work on the recuperated lands and have their own resources and savings. Paradoxically, many party members end up asking the Zapatistas for help. They go to their clinics, where they treat them like human beings, and they resort to their governments to impart justice and expedited conflict resolution. “We bring resistance per se forward. Resistance has given us the strength to construct autonomy. Since 1994, the bad government wanted to see our face; it sought ways for how to attack us, but today, we are here! It (the bad government) introduces its policies and we organize ourselves and struggle for everyone.” Like that, our teachers demonstrated how they resist in the ideological, the economic, the political, the cultural, “which is the way of living.” They demonstrate how neither soldiers nor paramilitaries have impeded the development of their autonomies.”
Many more themes were treated, all with con depth, a sense of humor and frankness, with pride in all they achieved, but with modesty. Upon finishing the course the moment arrived to say goodbye to the teachers and Votáns, with a lump in our throats and many openly crying. For those who graduated from the Escuelita, the world will not be the same.
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Originally Published in Spanish by La Jornada
Translation: Chiapas Support Committee
Saturday, August 30, 2013
En español: http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2013/08/30/opinion/019a1pol