"Because we indigenous peoples have always been excluded, marginalized, and forgotten, outside of constitutional laws, outside of political, economic, and social plans of a nation; because we are indigenous we do not have the right to life, to land, to health, to education, we do not have the right to liberty, nor to decide and direct our own destiny.
Brothers of all ethnic groups and all languages who live in our nation; all these great injustices of discrimination, of humiliation and of being slaves in our own land so that we work harder than do animals because we are indigenous, and without being able to raise our voice before the bosses because we are considered inferior beings, were sufficient reason for our armed uprising on the first of January of 1994, because we had no other path."
|EZLN Communiqué to the National Indigenous Congress,
September 15, 1997
"Alfredo" is a Tojolabal Indian who hails from the municipality of Las Margaritas, Chiapas. He is one of the members of the EZLN delegation who is now participating in the organizing activities of both the Zapatista Front of National Liberation and the National Indigenous Congress.
In the life of Alfredo it is possible to see the backbone of the EZLN. Alfredo became a member in 1988, but only after struggling around the issues of land and against the discrimination suffered by his community. For seven years he prepared himself, and struggled, moved silently from one community to another, hid and planned, held in suspense for the inevitable. This was the nature of his life until February 10th of 1995 during the military invasion sanctioned by Zedillo in order to serve warrants on the leadership of the EZLN. Alfredo was on his way to Las Margaritas, but he never arrived.
Members of the Army detained him. They covered his face, they insulted him, they took him to a river, although he does not remember which one. They forced him to strip naked and slipped him into a sack. From there they took him to another place, which he later learned was the 24th Cavalry Regiment in Comitan. Without giving any reasons, the military hung "Alfredo" from his hands. They gave him electrical shocks in the most sensitive parts of his body. But they were unsuccessful in forcing any kind of confession or information from him.
During the torture they also dunked his head several times in a well of water and held him there until he almost lost consciousness. They cut his body with knives and it still carries the scars of his thwarted confession. He would still say nothing.
Bothered by his obstinacy, the soldiers transported him to the 7th region which is in Tuxtla Gutierrez. They jailed him in a dark room, where he could hear the screams of other farmers who were being tortured. Alfredo does not remember how many soldiers there were when they threw him onto a helicopter, sometime later. In the air, they threatened him. He was to give up the name of the leaders and the priests who were involved or he would be thrown out of the helicopter.
He said nothing. After the third day they made him sign some papers even though he knew and was told nothing about their content. They let him go and Alfredo in September of 1997 lived to tell the story and to travel to Mexico City in the official delegation.
There are many like Alfredo. Many whose names and stories and suffering we will never know. Much less do we understand that the torture suffered by Alfredo, is the usual treatment of indigenous people involved in peaceful, civilian movements. The conflicts over land and the regressive racism which victimizes them are so intense, that this kind of torture and humiliation is standard. Because he was involved in an armed struggle, the nature of his suffering was not unexpected for Alfredo, and the fact that at some point he could defend himself, he could fight back, made it even more worthwhile. This is the paradox of the Zapatista struggle; to be forced to die in order to live. Together hundreds of Alfredos worked in silence and in darkness for many years. They planned and constructed the only path left to them. For them what appears to be a poetic turn of words or a manipulation of drama is in reality a heartfelt necessity.
Their stories have not been considered important by the mainstream press. In fact, one of the principal problems of the Mexican government and of many analysts of the conflict is the continual underestimation of the conviction, the cohesiveness, and the sophistication of indigenous communities who are principally response for one of the most significant social movements in Mexico's history.
The press has instead preferred to concentrate on the enigma of Subcomandante Marcos, even claiming that without him there would be no movement. It has done little to acknowledge that the struggle of the Zapatistas found fertile ground in the extreme misery and humiliation to which Indian people have been subjected to in Mexico.
The conflict in Chiapas will never be resolved until this paradox is understood by us all. More than anything else this inhumane status must be ended forever if Mexico's Indian people are to believe that things can change through peaceful means. That is why the passage into law of the San Andres agreements is so important. It will be a clear definitive signal that Mexico is beginning to put an end to its legacy of racism.
Mexico's Indian people will accept nothing less than that. They have danced with death for too many centuries already to be deceived.