by Puneet Dhaliwal
It is January 1st 1994 – the day the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) comes into force. A group of armed indigenous people, clad in black balaclavas and red bandanas, descend from the mountains and jungles of the Mexican southeast and enter the colonial city of San Cristóbal de las Casas in Chiapas. Taking control of the municipal palace, they announce “¡Ya Basta!” (“Enough!”) and declare war on the Mexican Army. This is the Zapatista National Liberation Army (EZLN) and, after capturing seven towns in Chiapas, the Zapatistas issued demands for “work, land, housing, food, healthcare, education, independence, liberty, democracy, justice and peace.”[2]
Why Chiapas? Why then? Chiapas is one of the most indigenous regions of Mexico, with approximately one quarter of its inhabitants belonging to Mayan groups,[3] predominately constituted by the Tzotzil, Tzeltal, Chol and Tojolobal peoples.[4] As with the rest of Latin America, the indigenous peoples of Mexico have historically been the most marginalised groups in society, discriminated against in terms of their cultural identity and excluded from political representation and economic development. Chiapas is the state with the second highest level of marginalisation faced by indigenous peoples in modern Mexico, with chronic poverty and unemployment, vast income inequality, a high infant mortality rate, poor access to healthcare, and below average literacy among the indigenous population.[5] The inequities and injustices prevalent in Chiapas are further emphasised by its great resource endowments; with only 3 percent of Mexico’s population, Chiapas produces 13 percent of the country’s corn, 54 percent of its hydroelectric power, 5 percent of its timber, 4 percent of its beans, 13 percent of its gas, and 4 percent of its oil. Yet most of the development investment in Chiapas has been used to construct infrastructure that helps to transport products from the state to the rest of Mexico, depriving the inhabitants of resources.[6]
Such injustices with respect to control of land and resources characterise the relationship between the Mexican state and the indigenous people. Mexico was historically a land of colonial feudal land tenure that undermined the traditional ejido system of communal land usage. Moreover, land enclosures and privatisation resulted in many indigenous communities being displaced and having to become labourers on large private estates. In the face of such conditions, there has been a long history of popular resistance and struggle for land and democracy for the poor indigenous. The most notable event in this line of resistance is the 1910 Mexican Revolution, in which Emiliano Zapata – whose name, image, and memory the Zapatistas invoke – led poor farmers and other marginalised groups against the government and large landholders. Agrarian reforms following the revolution affirmed the ejido system through Article 27 of the 1917 Constitution, securing communal land rights for indigenous communities. Throughout the twentieth century, though, material living conditions for many indigenous communities in Chiapas did not improve with state and capital supporting landlords and ranchers against ejido land claims. The indigenous communities faced continued repression from landlords and their armed guards, legalised by the government.[7]
The Zapatista rebellion can be situated in this context. The EZLN was founded on November 17th 1983 by three indigenous people from the Lacandon Jungle in Chiapas and three non-indigenous members of the National Liberation Forces, a Maoist guerrilla group from the urban north. These guerrillas implanted themselves in the Lacandon Jungle with the intent of fomenting rebellion among the Mayan population. Failing as a revolutionary vanguard, the EZLN members gradually involved themselves with public social work in some of the poorest communities and developed self defence groups to protect communities against large landholders and their armed guards. The EZLN grew over ten years, building on an organisational infrastructure created by peasant organisations and the Catholic Church. It eventually came to exhibit less of the dogmatic certainty of traditional vanguards and more of the community-based, reflexive and self-questioning nature of Mayan principles. Waiting, preparing and training in the mountains and jungles for ten years, the Zapatistas burst onto the world stage in their uprising that coincided with the implementation of the NAFTA, an agreement that spelt ruin for many Mexican peasant farmers by ending their subsidies and opening the market to products from highly mechanised and subsidised producers from the United States.[8] As a precondition for Mexico entering the NAFTA, Article 27 of the Mexican Constitution was also amended in 1992 by the government of Carlos Salinas de Gortari, whose election was surrounded by allegations of political corruption and electoral fraud – traits that are seemingly endemic among the Mexican political elite. The reforms in question constituted a considerable weakening of the ejido system, paving the way for further privatisation and foreign ownership of land and resources, thereby undermining the security of indigenous communities to land and a livelihood.[9]
The rebellion itself was met with a strong military response from the Mexican Army and the rebels were, unsurprisingly, defeated. After twelve days of fighting, shaken investor confidence, and Mexican civil society taking to the streets calling for peace, a ceasefire was offered by the President. The Zapatistas then entered into a lengthy process of dialogue and negotiation with the government over implementation of their demands. This resulted in the 1997 San Andrés Accords, which entailed modifying the constitution to grant rights and autonomy to the indigenous people. Throughout a protracted period of diluted government proposals and increasing militarisation and para-militarisation of Chiapas, the Zapatistas made repeated attempts to engage with civil society to call for profound changes to the national political system. Since the uprising, they have reclaimed more and more land, evicting landowners and establishing positions in 38 municipalities in Chiapas, declaring them Zapatista rebel autonomous municipalities. They have attempted to implement the San Andrés Accords unilaterally on their own terms, securing land, autonomy, and dignity for the indigenous communities.
This emphasis on grassroots, community-based organisation and rejection of traditional vanguardist aims of capturing state power ensured that the Zapatistas captured the attention of the global anti-capitalist left. When considering the Zapatista movement, though, there are numerous issues and complexities to discuss – such as the question of nationalism within the movement, the evident vertical arrangement of the EZLN as a military structure and its relation with the Zapatista civil bases of support, and their latest political initiative to engage civil society, La Otra Campaña (The Other Campaign), being criticised for exhibiting little more than vague leftist reformism and no serious challenge to state and capital.[10] Whilst these are all crucial discussions to engage with, it is important to focus on the autonomous governance practiced by the Zapatistas as a form of organisation that, in some way, challenges the existing system by creating an alternative that reflects the kind of society being sought. Despite various limitations, Zapatista autonomy presents a powerful challenge to coercive, hierarchical and exploitative systems and a profound inspiration for taking control of our own work, our own communities, and ultimately, our own lives.
The Zapatista influence in Chiapas extends over an area roughly equivalent to the size of Belgium and, although the Zapatista authorities coexist alongside ‘official’ authorities, it is estimated that the Zapatista municipalities coordinate approximately several hundred thousand indigenous people.[11] The Zapatistas operate as a federation of autonomous communities, linked by key structures of governance. Communities that decide to affiliate to Zapatista autonomous community assemblies select representative delegates to deal with issues pertaining to the various communities. Above the community level, organisation takes place in Autonomous Municipalities, where municipal councils bring together representation from the community assemblies. These various Autonomous Municipalities are then organised around a caracol12 – a centre of government for each zone in Zapatista territory. There are five caracoles in total, each housing a Junta de Buen Gobierno (Good Government Committee) which includes representatives from the municipal councils. The authorities like the Juntas have various roles such as conflict mediation, interacting with civil society, and overseeing community projects like the cooperatives and autonomous education and health systems.
At each level of Zapatista organisation, the general method of governance is underpinned by the indigenous principles of “Mandar obedeciendo” (“command/govern by obeying”) and “Para todos todo, nada para nosotros” (“Everything for everyone, nothing for ourselves”). These principles embody the fundamental community-driven and collectivist ethos behind the Zapatista indigenous organisation. At the heart of this is the traditional indigenous cargo system of community duty, service and responsibility, which underpins all of the key Zapatista structures from the community level to the Juntas. Members of the community with appropriate skills and a history of community work are chosen by their community to assume cargos. These public posts are conceptualised in terms of public duties and responsibilities with community organisation directed very much by community needs. For instance, there are positions to administer justice, organise the autonomous health and education systems, and to oversee matters relating to land and resources.
Detractors may ask what difference there really is between this organisation and the hierarchical representative national system that the Zapatistas apparently reject. After all, does the cargo system not embody just another form of hierarchy with the same risk of power accumulating with those higher up the ladder of community responsibilities? Whilst there is certainly a ladder of cargos of differing eminence, the system is radically different from professional politics in the Mexican, American, or British systems, where public office is generally characterised by the self-serving motivations of an elite political and economic class that is far removed from the communities affected by their decisions. In the autonomous communities, people do not run for election as representatives as such. Rather, they are chosen every two to three years by their community if they are seen to be well-placed to serve the community’s needs. That the representatives are seen as part of the community, do not receive any wage or material advantage for their work, and are expected to continue with their contribution to the collective work in their communities reinforces this radical break with the politics of the state system.
Decision-making itself is achieved through consensus and with permanent rotation of representatives. Matters are debated extensively by the committee members, the goal being detailed deliberation and consensus agreement by all members. This greatly enhances the participation and input from all members. Furthermore, there is a widespread practice of regular rotation of all public authorities, which avoids problems of accumulation of power with certain individuals and helps to achieve participation in the act of governance from a wide section of the communities. As the Zapatistas say of their collective government, “we have all been in government” and are “specialists in nothing, even less in politics.”[13] Such an approach to decision-making greatly enhances the participatory and collective nature of Zapatista governance, directing it towards communal needs. Such procedures, though, must surely be marked by inefficiency and slow decision-making? Practices of overlapping representatives during rotations can mitigate some of these effects, but the decision-making is still certainly slower than that of elitist representative democracies. But, as is clear from the Zapatista saying of “Lento, pero avanzo” (Slow, but progressing), moving at a slower pace does not necessarily mean that one is moving at the wrong pace. Rotation clearly leads to greater involvement and participation from many communities and consensus decision-making leads to more considered outcomes that are appropriate for the communities with a stake in the issues. Whilst this may be slow, perhaps it is we –looking from the outside– that are moving too quickly.
Of course, when analysing the Zapatistas, we must avoid idealising them and confront the reality of their experience, for they are certainly not beyond criticism. First, a particular representative sometimes falls short in her or his responsibilities and does not serve the community satisfactorily. For such instances, there are means of recalling that representative; recall can and does occur, but is not seen as anything particularly controversial, but rather part of the indigenous system of governance. If community needs are not being appropriately served, means will be taken to ensure that they are served appropriately. Second, there are still quite clearly regional disparities of resources, particularly since some municipalities are closer than others to large towns and cities and thus receive more support from solidarity groups. Disparities may manifest themselves in differences in provision of healthcare and education, for instance, and this is a real challenge for the Zapatista project of autonomy. They have instituted a ‘fraternal tax’ to counter unequal development in communities, but this remains a significant difficulty to overcome. Third, the exact relationship between the military EZLN and the civil bases of support has long been ambiguous and poses potential difficulties for effective autonomy and community control. The EZLN is clearly a hierarchical body with vertical relations of command, though it is worth noting that there eventually developed a degree of community control of the military through representatives in the Clandestine Revolutionary Indigenous Committee. The decision for the 1994 uprising, for instance, was legitimated by the relevant communities (and, in fact, against the preferences of some of the EZLN’s military commanders).[14] In terms of the civil-military relation, this has, to a large extent, been inverted with less of an EZLN presence in municipalities now compared to ten years ago. The Zapatistas clearly have not completely eliminated hierarchy and verticality, but their experience has been greatly positive for community control and self-government.
Despite such limitations, the achievements of the Zapatista movement, particularly in their construction of the autonomous community health and education systems, remain impressive. This progress is even more remarkable when considering the constant external threats the Zapatista communities face from the persistent “low intensity warfare” waged against them by the Mexican state. This consists of a permanent military presence and harassment, threats and violence from paramilitary groups that receive support and training from the state. It is common to see large military barracks and bases near Zapatista communities and municipalities and they serve to normalise an atmosphere of fear, threat and insecurity for the Zapatistas. The paramilitaries, though, are in some sense more troubling, since they have no official connections with the state whilst still receiving equipment and training. They often act with impunity and allow the government to wash its hands of the conflicts, dismissing them instead as an issue of ‘community division.’ The most infamous of paramilitary attacks was the 1997 Acteal massacre, where paramilitaries entered a community of pacifist sympathisers of the Zapatistas and killed 45 people gathered in a prayer meeting. Some of the perpetrators of the attack, imprisoned after the massacre, were recently released by the Mexican Supreme Court.[15]
The Zapatista experience is clearly not one that can be extracted from the jungles of the Mexican southeast and transplanted into the urban areas of Western Europe. The Zapatistas themselves are clear that they are no model to be applied dogmatically elsewhere. Rather than proclaiming a form of organisation to be adopted by all communities, they call for “un mundo donde quepan muchos mundos” (“a world where there is space for many worlds”). Their achievements and autonomous form of organisation are notable and inspirational not so much for how we can emulate them, but for what we can draw from them. As John Holloway notes, the question is how we can theorise and articulate our own ¡Ya Basta![16] Their achievements and progress make them a great inspiration to fight for a world in which we want to live, a free and just world where we have control of our own lives and communities. The Zapatistas’ focus on organising around communities and their needs is what challenges and engages us. And it is this constant reference to the community that informs their reflexive and self-questioning approach that underpins their trajectory. Their path is created, not by applying rigid ideas to communities, but simply by walking it. And, for the Zapatistas, preguntando caminamos. Asking, we walk.
[1] Subcomandante Marcos is a military commander and the spokesman of the Zapatista National Liberation Army (EZLN), seen only wearing his black balaclava, and rarely without his trademark pipe.
[2] EZLN, First Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle, http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/First_Declaration_of_the_Lacandon_Jungle
[3] http://www.inegi.org.mx/est/contenidos/espanol/rutinas/ept.asp?t=mlen02&s=est&c=4171&e07
[4] http://www.sipaz.org/data/chis_en_02.htm
[5] http://www.conapo.gob.mx/publicaciones/marg_local/03.pdf
[6] George Collier and Elizabeth Lowery Quaratiello. Basta! Land and the Zapatista Rebellion in Chiapas (Oakland: Food First Books, 1994), p.16.
[7] Neil Harvey, The Chiapas Rebellion: The Struggle for Land and Democracy (Duke University Press: London, 1998), p.60.
[8] http://economix.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/12/15/dumping-on-mexico/
[9] For more information on the ejido system and changes to Agrarian Law in 1992, see http://www.lawmexico.com/articles/Ejido%20Property.pdf
[10] For the Mexican Libertarian Socialist Group’s critique of the Zapatista La Otra Campaña, see http://libcom.org/library/a-critique-zapatista-other-campaign-grupo-socialista-libertario
[11] Jérôme Baschet, ‘Construir la autonomía: Lo común sin el Estado. La experiencia zapatista’.
[12] The word ‘caracol’ means ‘snail’ or ‘conch shell’ in Spanish and is laden with a multiplicity of symbolic meanings for the Zapatistas, referring at once to a snail’s slow but steady pace and also a Mayan legend where a god used a conch shell to alert others to evil in the world. See Paul Chatterton, ‘The Zapatista Caracoles and Good Governments: The Long Walk to Autonomy’, http://www.stateofnature.org/theZapatistaCaracoles.html.
[13] Jérôme Baschet, ‘Construir la autonomía: Lo común sin el Estado. La experiencia zapatista’.
[14] The pre-1994 history of the EZLN is often highly contested with different authors giving different accounts concerning community control of the decision for war and so on. In ¡Ya Basta! Ten Years of the Zapatista Uprising, ed. Ziga Vodovnik (AK Press: Oakland, California, 2004), p.37 Marcos details how a decision for rebellion was ratified in late 1992 and how the CCRI was formed “to formalize the real power they had in the communities” and the subordination of the EZLN to the CCRI. See also Tello (1995) and Womack (1997) for accounts that do not give as much precedence to the indigenous transformation of the EZLN. For a synthesis of differing sources (and a view that much of Tello’s analysis is politically motivated propaganda) see Milt Shapiro (2000); cis.mahost.org/docs/ezlnroots_cmplt.doc
[15] http://www.libertadlatina.org/Crisis_Mexico_Chiapas_Acteal_Massacre.htm
[16] John Holloway, ‘The concept of power and the Zapatistas’, http://libcom.org/library/concept-power-zapatistas-john-holloway
Christopher Rossdale
03 Feb 2010 17:48
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