With over 60,000 Federal troops now in the EZLN area of Chiapas, constantly manoeuvring in and around all the communities it is now more vital then ever outside observers are present to remind the army that the world is watching. The Irish Mexico Group is trying to build up a long term link with one of the Zapatista communities. One of our members currently in Chiapas has sent this report of the situation on the ground" The children are suffering from diarrhoea and vomiting, the price for selling our coffee is very low, the army has encircled us and we fear they will attack us soon...".
Things are not looking good for the Zapatista community of Diez de Abril, as spelt out by the health promoter, Zebedeo. Then he smiles and says with some assurance- "Thank God for the Zapatistas!" Its been three years since the Zapatistas arrived with a bang. Here in the new community of Diez de Abril all the gains and lackings of the Zapatista uprising are clear. For the 700 or so people living here its been the best of times and the worst of times...
It was the best of times as the 100 families descended from their impoverished villages higher in the mountains to occupy this cattle ranch once-owned by a wealthy rancher. The land was fertile, much more so than the rocky hillsides they had previously farmed. It was March 1995 and Zapatista communities all over the Chiapas highlands had swooped down to occupy the farms abandoned by Finqueros ( wealthy cattle ranchers) who had been chased out by the threat of the EZLN. The cattle were appropriated and the land was planted with maize, beans, coffee and vegetables. Potable water was drawn from a powerful river flowing through the valley and the people had what had always been denied them- Tierra y Libertad - good land and the freedom to work for themselves and their own community.
It was the best of times as the community flourished, the crop was good and materials were bought to make decent homes, latrines were built, a basketball court laid down, electricity was brought to many houses, a shop was set up and the village was designed to give the people space and social areas. Meanwhile the political context within which all Zapatista communities exist within was hopeful. The first round of agreements between EZLN and government delegates at the San Andres talks were signed and a political solution to the Indigenous demands seemed to be moving forward. For communities on re-appropriated land like Diez de Abril this meant less of a threat from the Mexican military and attack from local Finquero-sponsored paramilitary forces.
As 1996 moved into 1997 the political context began to change and so too the mood in Diez de Abril. On New Years Eve they celebrated the third anniversary of the uprising and looked towards further consolidating the gains of the three years. Projects were planned with NGO's (Non-Governmental Organisations)- an education programme for the children, a health initiative and a commercial proposition. But there was a shadow over the community. Everything had changed, but nothing had changed. Nothing had changed with the government, with the military, with the system of injustice they confronted, with the power structure. The government had entered into talks and signed agreements but it soon became clear they had no intention of honouring them. The military promised to return to their bases but were preparing for war.
"The government, deaf and blind, are getting ready to hit and kill those they don't see or hear," warned Sub-commandante Marcos in a communique on the 24th January. "The pre-emptive military campaign of the government has begun...The order to attack is already on the tables of the commanders of the Federal Mexican Army." It could be the worst of times for Diez de Abril. The people are tense; they're making preparations for the inevitable. To flee to the mountains like they did during the last military offensive of February 1995, or to stay and fight and die in their homes?
It's the worst of times as the tension increases and the children feel it and become sick. As the price of coffee remains at a paltry $2 a kilo for the campesinos while coffee prices for consumers all over the world increase. As the development of the community is put on hold, preparations for the worse continue. A tentative tranquillity hangs over the lush, picturesque valley which cradles Diez de Abril. Women pass with huge containers of water balanced magically on their heads. Men head over the hills buckled under the burden of heavy sacks of coffee beans on the way to the market-town. Children collect fire-wood and shoot catapults at hapless dogs with deadly accuracy. Life continues, under the shadow.
The community calls itself in honour of Emiliano Zapata- Diez de Abril, tenth of April 1919 was the day he was betrayed and murdered by the government. Nobody here has forgotten the past. Zapata lives and the Zapatistas of today are ready. "We wont go back to the way things were before" says the Asterix-like figure of Zebedeo, the man responsible for the health of the community, and disappears into the night.