CHIAPAS: 10 YEARS AFTER
by JUSTIN PODUR
Justin Podur is a frequent
writer and translator on Latin American issues. He maintains
ZNET's South Asia, Africa,
and Race Watch pages as well as the Colombia and Chiapas Crisis
pages.
__________________
January
1, 2004 will be the 10th anniversary of the Zapatista uprising
in Chiapas, Mexico. In 2004, it will be 20 years since the founding
of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation, or EZLN (1).
For people
concerned about human rights, the 10-year long rebellion has some
interesting lessons.
One question
human rights advocates might ask is, what was the effect of the
Zapatista uprising on human rights in Chiapas, or in Mexico? Given
that wartime is when the worst violations of human rights occur,
did the Zapatistas act irresponsibly in launching an armed rebellion
for indigenous rights and against the neglect and abuse they had
long suffered?
An interview
with Subcomandante Marcos of the EZLN gives the Zapatistas’
own answer to this question. On March 11, 2001, when the Zapatistas
traveled to Mexico City to present their demands for a new indigenous
law to the legislature, one of Mexico’s main weekly magazines,
Proceso, interviewed Marcos. The interviewer asked him:
"what's your picture of poverty?" The reply:
“A
girl who died in my arms, less than five years old, of fever,
in the community of Las Tazas, because there was no remedy to
lower her temperature. We tried to lower the temperature with
water, with wet rags, we bathed her and everything, her father
and I. She died on us. She didn't require surgery, nor a hospital.
She needed a pill, a little remedy.
It's
ridiculous, because that girl was not even born, there was no
birth certificate. What is there more miserable than being born
and dying and nobody knows you?”
Marcos
said he felt, “Impotence, rage. The whole world falls in
on you, that everything you believed and everything you did before
is useless if I can't prevent this death, this unjust, absurd,
irrational, stupid . . . ” and warned that “If that
general bitterness doesn't find a social voice, revenge is bound
to follow… that's why we say it's preferable that the discontent
get organized.”
None
of the above can be offered as an automatic justification for
rebellion, although it certainly is an eloquent argument for social
organization. It is also a powerful statement about the motivations
for the rebellion. The argument about the effect of the rebellion
is made in Marcos’s next statement in the same interview:
“Now, with indigenous communities taking a stand, we lowered
the mortality rate to between two and three hundred per year.
We used to have, before 1994, fifteen thousand per year, mostly
under five who never had any birth certificate.”
The
war fought by the Zapatistas is one they describe as a ‘war
against oblivion,’ a war against the silent deaths from
hunger and preventable disease that the indigenous have faced
for centuries. For starting that war, the Zapatistas were punished
with the kinds of human rights abuses documented by groups like
Amnesty International. A look at Amnesty’s annual reports
on Mexico tells the tale: disappearances, reports of torture,
paramilitarism, death threats directed specifically against human
rights advocates, lawyers, and activists; and, worse, several
massacres and assassinations, notably the Acteal massacre of December
1997.
This
should not be taken to mean that the Zapatistas traded one form
of violence for another, opting for the open violence of a ‘low-intensity
war’ over the violence of hunger and poverty.
Counter
to the norm of insurgent groups motivated by the kinds of ‘impotence’
and ‘rage’ Marcos described, the Zapatistas have adhered
quite closely to the Geneva Conventions and the laws of war. Their
adherence to these rules, as well as the asymmetry of force between
them and their opponent, the Mexican Army and paramilitaries (with
financial, political, and military support from the United States),
have resulted in the Zapatistas and their civilian supporters
suffering far more casualties in the conflict.
From
the beginning, the Zapatistas have emphasized the political aspects
of the conflict and have, in fact, subordinated the military to
the political and social. Most recently, in August 2003, they
announced that the autonomous municipalities of Chiapas, the Zapatista
communities, would be ‘autonomous’ from the EZLN itself,
in addition to other changes in the political organization.
But the
emphasis on the political aspects of struggle has been part of
the Zapatistas’ practice from the beginning. By inviting
international human rights observers to the communities, holding
an ‘Intergalactica’ for supporters from all over the
world, holding a ‘Consulta’ or an unofficial referendum
on the future of the EZLN, traveling to Mexico City unarmed, counting
on the political protection of their supporters during the 2001
caravan, the Zapatistas have constantly tried to present their
political platform and positions to the world.
They
have also made clear their desire for dialogue. Since 1994, their
demands have been simple: housing, land, work, bread, health,
education, independence, democracy, liberty, justice, and peace.
Negotiations with the government’s peace commission yielded
a proposal for an indigenous reform law, called the Cocopa law,
which would have granted territorial autonomy to the indigenous
communities. In 2001, on the occasion of their caravan, the Zapatistas
publicized three conditions for dialogue with the government:
First,
that the military withdraw from several of the dozens of bases
in Chiapas; second, that the Zapatista political prisoners be
freed from various prisons across the country; and third, that
the legislature pass the Cocopa law. At the time, the government
responded with half-measures: a partial withdrawal, liberty for
some but not all of the prisoners, and the passage of a gutted
version of the Cocopa law.
As a
result, there has been little serious dialogue in the past two
years, although the armed conflict is not as intense as it has
been at several points over the 10-year course of the rebellion.
By adhering
to the Geneva Convention and emphasizing the political aspects
of struggle, the Zapatistas have distinguished themselves from
most of the states and governments of the world, including those
of the west, as well as other private or political groups that
target civilians.
Since
the Bush Administration declared ‘war on terrorism’
without geographical or temporal limit, those who are against
terrorism would do well to listen to the Zapatistas, who have
seen terrorism deployed against them without responding in kind.
Indeed,
just after 9/11, 2001, journalist Adofo Gilly described the ‘warning’
leveled by the Zapatistas: “Seven years ago, in the Mexican
south, the zapatista rebellion leveled a warning. They have not
wanted to listen to it, they closed paths off to them, they mocked
their ability to make politics and their will to preserve rights,
peace, life. More than once Marcos told them that, after and beyond
them, would come those from society's cellar, the faceless and
nameless storm of the humiliated, the affronted, those who have
always been treated like dirt by governments and officials, by
the rich and the masters.”
Taking
the Zapatista example seriously gives us a chance to, in Gilly’s
words, “take care of the country, and keep at a respectful
and reasonable distance those who -- whether from power or terror
-- want to replace reason with fury and justice with revenge.”