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Subcomandante Moisés, Subcomandante Galeano

EZLN: One House, Other Worlds

Foto: JORGE UZON/AFP/Getty Images
Foto: JORGE UZON/AFP/Getty Images

One House, Other Worlds

July/August/September, 2016

To whom it may concern:

Subject: Invitation to “CompArte and ConCiencias for Humanity.”

Yes, we know. Days and nights go by in which bitterness is the only thing that appears on the horizon. Our steps drag along in pain, rage, and indignation, stumbling every so often over the impertinent gaze of cynicism and our own disappointment; over the stupidity exalted in government positions and polls; over simulation as a way of life; over the substitution of frivolity for culture, art, and science; over the multiple tiers of disrespect for the different (the problem isn’t that the other exists, but that it shows itself”); and over a wholesale resignation in the political market sphere (“oh well, the only option left is to choose not the lesser evil, but the least scandalous”). Yes, things are hard, harder every day. It is as if the night has become longer. It is as if the day has postponed its stride until no one and nothing is left, until the path is empty. It is as if there was no breath left. The monster lies in wait in every corner, countryside, and city street.

Despite all this, or precisely because of it, we send you this invitation.

It may seem that it is not the moment nor the matter at hand, but we Zapatistas invite you to participate in the festivals “CompArte and ConCiencias for Humanity.” So, respecting etiquette, we have to send an invitation. This should be something that details a calendar and a geography, because we know that you have your own path, your own pace, your own company on that path, and your own destiny. And we don’t want to add another difficulty to those that you already confront. Thus, an invitation must include the when and where.

But you know who we are. You know how we are, that is. And the question that we think an invitation must address is not the when and where, but rather the why. Perhaps that is why this invitation does not comply with the etiquette of the occasion and does not arrive on time, but rather too late or too early. But as you’ll see, it doesn’t matter. That is why this invitation is very other, and why it includes as a crucial element this little story:

One House, Other Worlds

It’s more of a legend than a story. That is, there’s no way to confirm the truthfulness of what is told here. This is partly because it details no specific calendar or geography; it could have happened, or not, in any undefined time or place. It is also because the supposed non-protagonist of this story is dead, deceased, done, defunct. If he was alive, we could just ask if he actually said what it says here that he said. And as he was always tenacious in his wanderings through the tree tops, it is likely that he would go on at length to describe this imprecise calendar.

In any case, since we don’t have the exact date, we’ll just say it was more than two decades ago. The geography? The mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

It was Comandante Tacho who told us the story in the wee hours of the morning at the EZLN headquarters. He was describing the house of the system, the home of capital, the storm, and the ark. We were in our headquarters, the headquarters where what would later become the seedbed/seminar was born. We think we took a coffee break… or that we adjourned the meeting in order to continue the next day… to tell you the truth, we don’t really remember. The point is that we were talking to Tacho and it was he who told us what we’re going to tell you now. There is of course a little bit of finagling involved because we have added to and rearranged Tacho’s original words. We did this not out of bad faith, disrespect, or an attempt to mend faulty memories, but because both of us who are writing now knew the deceased quite well and can reconstruct his words and feelings. Here goes:

This is Comandante Tacho speaking:

I don’t remember very well when it was, but it was when the deceased Sup was not yet deceased. He was just the Sup, staying up all night and smoking his pipe. Yes, chewing on the pipe, as usual. We were in the shelter that was the EZLN headquarters, although it wasn’t a shelter because it wasn’t finished yet. That is, it wasn’t EZLN headquarters yet.  Perhaps it was going to be, but not yet.

We were telling funny stories, things that happened in the communities, in the meetings, in the work of the struggle. The Sup was just listening, sometimes laughing, sometimes asking more about what happened. Before I really knew him I didn’t understand why. Later I realized that these accounts would appear later as stories in the communiques. I think he called them ‘postscripts.’ I asked him once why he called an account of what had really happened just a story. He said, ‘The thing is that they don’t believe the accounts, they think I am making things up or imagining things. So I write it like it’s a story because they are not ready to see the reality.’

Anyway, so there we were.

So then he asked the Sup…”

Yes, Tacho has used the third person singular: “he.” In order to clarify we asked him if by “he” he meant the Sup. “No,” he answered us, annoyed, “he asked the Sup.” We didn’t want to insist because we thought, perhaps mistakenly, that that wasn’t the point of the story, or that it was merely one piece of a puzzle still being sketched out. So Comandante Tacho used the word “he.” Not “she,” not “I,” not “we.” He said “he” in referring to the person who was questioning the Sup.

Hey Sup, how come every time we are building a house, you ask if we are building it according to traditional custom or by scientific method?”

Here Tacho took the time to clarify:

“Every time that we built a house, the deceased SupMarcos would come and stare at the beams and rafters. Then he would always ask:

‘That crossbeam that you’re putting there, are you putting it there because it is necessary for the construction of the house?’ Then I would respond, ‘Yes, if you don’t put it there the roof will fall in.’

‘I see,’ the Sup said, ‘but how do you know that if you don’t put it there that the roof will fall in?’

I just looked at him because I knew that wasn’t the real question. It wasn’t the first time he had asked it. He continued, ‘do you put it there because you know scientifically that if you don’t the roof will fall in, or do you put it there because it is traditional custom to do so?’

‘Because it’s traditional custom,’ I answered him, ‘because that is how I was taught. That is how my father built houses, and he learned from my grandfather, and so on going way back.’ The Sup was not satisfied, and always ended up climbing up onto the central beam before the supports were finished and, balancing as if he were riding a horse, would ask, ‘so if I get up here, is the beam going to fall?’ And boom, he would fall. ‘Ouch!’ was the only thing he’d say. He’d take out his pipe from where he landed on the ground, light it, and with his head resting on the broken beam, gaze up at the roof. We would all laugh of course.

So that’s why he asked the Sup why the Sup was always asking about whether something was done by traditional custom or scientific method.  The thing is that it wasn’t just that one time. Every time that our headquarters had to be moved and I had to oversee the construction of a new structure for the headquarters, that is what happened. The Sup would come, he would ask that question, I would respond, he wouldn’t be satisfied, he would climb up on the beam, it would break, and he would fall to the ground.”

(Note: in discussing this between the two of us, we have concluded that the approximate dates for what Tacho is recounting were the first months of 1995 when there was such heavy governmental persecution against us that we had to continually pick up and move our headquarters, accompanying the community of Guadalupe Tepeyac in exile. End of note and Tacho continues):

“I am telling you this so that you understand why he asked the Sup this question. At other times I had also asked him this question, but he hadn’t responded fully. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to respond, but that always at that moment they called him on the radio, or someone came to talk to him. So I wanted to know the answer too.

The Sup took his pipe out of his mouth and put it to one side. We were sitting on the ground. It was very hot like it always is before a hard rain. I knew the answer would take a while, because when the Sup answered quickly, he didn’t even take the pipe out of his mouth; the words would just come out all chewed up.

So then the Sup said… well really, he asked:

‘Hey Tacho, how big is this house?’
‘3 by 4 [meters],’ I answered quickly, because it wasn’t the first time he asked.

‘And if it were 6 x 8, would it need more rafters for support?’ he asked me.

‘It would indeed,’ I responded.

‘And if were 12 x 16?’

I didn’t respond quickly, so the Sup continued:

‘And if it were 24 x 32? Or 48 x 64? What about 96 x 128?’

Then, to tell you the truth, I laughed. ‘That’s a really big house, I don’t know,’ I answered.

‘Correct,’ he said, ‘houses are made according to one’s own or one’s inherited experience. Traditions and customs, that is. To make a bigger house, one would have to ask or try something different.’

‘But let’s say that no one has ever built a house measuring 192 x 256…’

I laughed right before the Sup finished:

‘kilometers.’

‘Umm, who would want a house that big?’ I asked laughing.

He lit his pipe and said, ‘well, let’s make it easier: what if the house were the size of the world?’

‘Ah no, that’s rough. I don’t think we can imagine a house that big, nor what it would be for,’ I said, more serious now.

‘We can,’ he said. ‘The arts can imagine this house, and can put it into words, sounds, images, figures. The arts can imagine what seems impossible and, in this process of imagination, sew doubt, curiosity, surprise, admiration—that is, they make it possible.

‘Ah, okay,’ I replied, ‘but it’s one thing to imagine and another thing to do. I don’t think a house that big can be made.’

‘It can,’ he said, and put the broken pipe aside.

‘The sciences know how. Even if a house the size of the world has never been made, the sciences can say with certainty how a construction that size would be built. I don’t know what it’s called, but I think it has to do with the strength of the materials, geometry, economics, physics, geography, biology, chemistry, and who the hell knows what else.

But even without previous experience, without traditional customs, science can in fact say how many beams, supports, and rafters are needed to make a house the size of the world. Scientific knowledge can determine how deep the foundation needs to be, how high and how long the walls need to be, what angle the roof should have if it is a pitched roof, where the windows should be given the climate, how many doors there should be and where, what material should be used for each part, and how many beams and supports it must have and where.’”

Was the now-deceased already thinking about the transgression of the law gravity and all of the straight lines linked to it? Did he imagine or already know about the subversion of Euclid’s Fifth Postulate? No, Tacho didn’t ask him. To tell you the truth, the two of us wouldn’t have asked either. It is hard to imagine, in those days of no tomorrow, with warplanes shaking the earth and sky, that there was time to think about art, much less science.

Everyone remained silent, Tacho recalls. Us, too. After a moment of silence and tobacco, he continued:

“The Sup took up his pipe again and saw with sorrow that there was no more tobacco. He looked in his pockets. Smiling, he pulled out a little plastic bag with some black strands. It took him awhile to light the pipe, I think because the tobacco was damp. Then he continued:

‘But I’m not concerned about whether the arts can imagine this house, its colors, its shapes, its sounds, where the day comes in, where the night falls, where the rain falls, where the wind blows, where the earth sits.

Neither am I concerned about whether science can solve the problem of how to make it a reality. Of course it can. It has the knowledge… or it will.

What concerns me is that this house that is a world not be the same as the one we live in. The house must be better, even bigger. It must be so big that it can hold not one world but many, those that already exist and those yet to be born.

Of course, one would have to meet with those who do art and science. That won’t be easy. At first they won’t be willing to help, not because they don’t want to but because they will be skeptical. Because we have a lot going against us. Because we are what we are.

Those who are artists think that we will constrain the subject, form, and pace of their work; that their artistic horizon will hold only males and females (never others), members of the powerful proletariat showing off their muscles and bright shining gazes in images, sounds, dances, and figures; that they could not even insinuate the existence of the other; that if they comply they will receive praise and applause, and if not, seclusion or repudiation. In other words, they think we will command that they not imagine.

Those who do science think that we are going to ask them to create mechanical, electronic, chemical, biological, and interstellar weapons of mass (or individual) destruction. They think that we will force them to create schools for exceptional minds where of course one will find the descendants of those currently in power who have a salary guaranteed before they are ever conceived. They think that what will be recognized is political affiliation and not scientific capacity, and that if they comply they will receive praise and applause, and if not, seclusion or repudiation. In other words, they think that we will command them not to do science.

In addition, because we are indigenous peoples, there are some [un@s and otr@s] here and there who think that what they do is art and culture, and that what we do is folk art and ritual. They think that what for them is analysis and knowledge, for us is belief and superstition.

They are ignorant of the fact that we have produced colors that, hundreds of years later, still challenge calendars. They do not know that when “civilization” still believed that the earth was the center of the universe, we had already discovered celestial bodies and numerical systems. They think that we adore ignorance, that our thinking is simple and conformist, that we prefer to believe rather than to know. They think that we do not want advancement but rather regression.

In other words, they neither see themselves, nor do they see us.

The issue then is going to be to convince them to see themselves as we see them, to make them realize that, for us, they are what they are and also something else: hope. And hope, friends and enemies, cannot be bought, cannot be sold, cannot be coerced, cannot be contained, and cannot be killed.’

He fell silent. I waited to see if he would ask something else of the Sup, but since he didn’t say anything, I asked: ‘so what must we do?’ The Sup just sighed and said:

‘Our job is first of all to know that this house is possible and necessary. Then comes the easier part: to build it. For this task we need knowledge, feeling, imagination—we need the sciences and the arts. We need other hearts. The day will come when we will meet with those who make art and science. On that day we will embrace them and welcome them with one sole question: “And what about you?”’

I wasn’t satisfied with this answer though, and I asked the Sup: ‘And after we meet with these people, what are we going to do?’ The Sup smiled and said:

‘Etcetera.’”

_*_

That is where the story or the legend that Comandante Tacho told us that morning ends.  All of this is relevant at the moment because we want to invite you to come, or to be present in some way, in this earth that we are.

We have this curiosity, you could say, that has been nagging at us over the course of many pages of the calendar and we think that perhaps you will accept this invitation and help us to resolve a particular doubt:

What do we need to build a new house, a house so big that it holds not one but many worlds?

That’s all. Or not, depending on you.

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

In the name of the Zapatista children, elders, women, and men,

Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés

Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano

Mexico, July/August/September of 2016.

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Radio Zapatista

(Español) Jornada por la libertad de los defensores del agua y la vida de San Pedro Tlanixco.

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

Integrantes del movimiento por la libertad de los defensores del agua y la vida de San Pedro Tlanixco , municipio de Tenango  del Valle,  Estado de México,  Inauguraron en  el auditorio José Revueltas en Ciudad Universitaria,  “La Jornada por la libertad de los  defensores del agua y la  vida de San Pedro Tlanixco”.

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Escuchar audio de la conferencia: (Descarga aquí)  

La jornada inicio con la lectura de un pronunciamiento en voz de Yolanda Álvarez, esposa   de uno de los defensores del agua y la vida, actualmente preso;   depués  continuo con  Rosario Peralta, (vocero de la comunidad), quien realizó un recuento de los acontecimientos que dieron lugar al conflicto, pues desde el año de 1998, la comunidad se ha organizado para resistir el despojo de su recurso vital.  Producto de ésta lucha organizada y autónoma, en el año 2003, seis de los guardianes del agua, fueron detenidos y encarcelados en el Penal de Santiaguito Almoloya de Juárez. Es por lo anterior que la comunidad de San pedro Tlanixco,   se ha organizado una vez más para convocar a una jornada de lucha,  y exigir  la libertad de Pedro Sánchez Berriozábal, Teófilo Pérez González, Rómulo Arias Mireles, Marco Antonio Pérez, Lorenzo Sánchez y Dominga González,  cuyo único  agravio cometido ante el mal gobierno,   es ser   guardianes del agua  y la  vida de su comunidad.

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Koman Ilel

(Español) El arte de la organización para hacer posible el arte de la solidaridad

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

El arte de la organización para hacer posible el arte de la solidaridad.
Koman Ilel. San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas. 30 de julio 2016.

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(Ve las imágenes y escucha los audios de la participación zapatista en el CompARTE aquí: https://radiozapatista.org/?p=17050)

El arte se instala en Oventic

Si las múltiples manifestaciones artísticas a lo largo de la semana en CIDECI sorprendieron por su diversidad y su cantidad, de l@s compas zapatistas no se esperaba menos. Decenas de actuaciones que abarcaron todas las artes deleitaron las miradas de tod@s l@s presentes: teatro, música, baile, pintura, poesía… Cient@s de zapatistas de los pueblos originarios tzotzil, zoque y tzeltal de Los Altos de Chiapas compartieron durante todo el día sus creaciones, todas ellas muy vinculadas a la historia de Chiapas, a la lucha zapatista, a las luchas del pueblo mexicano organizado y a valores como la autonomía, la libertad, la justicia y la dignidad.

(Continuar leyendo…)

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Subcomandante Moisés, Subcomandante Galeano

The geography? Oventik. The calendar? July 29, 2016

The geography? Oventik.
The calendar? July 29, 2016.

ZAPATISTA ARMY OF NATIONAL LIBERATION
MEXICO

July 17, 2016

To all the artists participating in the CompArte:
To the National and International Sixth:

Sisters and brothers:
Compañeras, compañeros, and compañeroas:

We send our greetings. We are writing to let you know the following:

We want to make sure that all of the artists who have committed to participating in CompArte know and feel our admiration and respect. But also, and above all, we want them to know of our conviction that in the dark hours of the present and the dark hours to come, their work and creativity will be required to find the path that we, humanity as a whole, want, need, and deserve.

When we speak of darkness, we are not only referring to the horrors that emerge and destroy all across the suffering world geography. We are also talking about the political and economic mercantilism that, without really caring much about the actual deaths and tragedies, pounce on the still-warm cadavers of the victims in an attempt to take advantage of and profit off their misfortune.

If the machine imposes a perverse logic in which every tragedy numbs rather than enrages, perhaps it could be the Arts that remind humanity that people not only kill and destroy, impose and dominate, humiliate and doom to oblivion, but can also create, liberate, and remember. Don’t even the most heartbreaking and painful artistic works throb with life and liberty?

(Continuar leyendo…)

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EZLN

The CompARTE Festival and Solidarity

The CompARTE Festival and Solidarity

July 2016

Compañeroas of the Sixth:

Artists from the five continents:

Teachers in Resistance:

As you know, we have decided to suspend our participation in the CompArte Festival. Of course, for those who know how to read carefully, we didn’t say that the festival itself was suspended. We merely indicated that we as Zapatistas would not be able to contribute. So if someone thought the former and decides not to participate, well then we apologize because we know you already took on expenses. No one should give orders to the Arts. If there is a synonym for freedom, perhaps the last bastion of humanity in the worst situations, it is the arts. We Zapatistas neither can nor should—nor has it even crossed our minds—to tell the workers of art and culture when they should create or not. Or worse, impose a topic on them and, using the originary peoples in rebellion as justification, drag out concepts of “cultural revolutions,” “realisms,” and other arbitrary notions that merely hide what is some kind of cop determining what is “good art” or not.

No, artist sisters and brothers [hermanas, hermanos, hermanoas]; for us Zapatistas, the arts are the hope of humanity, not a militant cell. We think that indeed, in the most difficult moments, when disillusionment and impotence are at a peak, the Arts are the only thing capable of celebrating humanity.

For us Zapatistas, you, along with scientists [l@s científic@s], are so important that we cannot imagine a future without your work.

But that is a subject for a later letter.

The task here is to honor a commitment to you all. As of June 15, 2016, the last day for registration, we had a report prepared to let you know how the CompArte Festival was coming. Unfortunately, the national situation got progressively tenser (thanks to the irresponsibility of that child with a box of matches who works out of the SEP [Department of Public Education]), and we kept postponing it until coming to the decision that we have already told you about.

(Continuar leyendo…)

radio
Apuntes del gato-perro

The Hour of the Policeman 4 From the Cat-Dog’s spoiler notebook

The Hour of the Policeman 4
From the Cat-Dog’s spoiler notebook

GaleanoVive (167)

June 2016

Here’s the doubt: what would be the most appropriate comparison for that sad and mediocre overseer who aspires to be a policeman?

Aurelio Donald Nuño Trump?

Aurelio Ramsay Nuño Bolton?

We think that, given his thirst for blood and his cowardice, the latter fits him best.

And, just like in the television series “Game of Thrones,” where Ramsay Bolton is devoured by the dogs that he before used to attack others, the paid media that have used Nuño to slander, threaten, and attack the teachers in resistance and the communities and organizations in solidarity, will feed on him when he falls.

It could very well be said to him tomorrow:

“Your words will disappear.
Your house will disappear
Your name will disappear
All memory of you will disappear.”
To him and the entire system he serves.

Time will tell.
Woof-meow.

radio
CNI y EZLN

CNI and EZLN: From within the Storm

FROM WITHIN THE STORM

Joint Communique from the National Indigenous Congress and the EZLN on the cowardly police attack against the National Coordinating Committee of Education Workers and the indigenous community of Nochixtlán, Oaxaca.

June 20, 2016

To the People of Mexico:

To the peoples of the World:

Faced with the cowardly repressive attack suffered by the teachers and the community in Nochixtlán, Oaxaca—in which the Mexican state reminds us that this is a war on all—the peoples, nations, and tribes who make up the National Indigenous Congress and the Zapatista Army for National Liberation say to the dignified teachers that they are not alone, that we know that reason and truth are on their side, that the collective dignity from which they speak their resistance is unbreakable, and that this the principal weapon of those of us below.

We condemn the escalation of repression with which the neoliberal capitalist reform, supposedly about “education,” is being imposed across the entire country and principally in the states of Oaxaca, Chiapas, Guerrero, and Michoacán. With threats, persecutions, beatings, unjust imprisonments and now murders they try to break the dignity of the teachers in rebellion.

We call on our peoples and on civil society in general to be with the teachers who resist at all times, to recognize ourselves in them. The violence used to dispossess them of their basic work benefits with the goal of privatizing education is a reflection of the violence with which the originary peoples and rural and urban peoples are dispossessed.

Those who delight in power decided that education, health, indigenous and campesino territories, and even peace and security are a commodity for whoever can pay for them, that rights are not rights but rather products and services to be snatched away, and they dispossess, destroy, and negotiate according to what big capital dictates. And they intend to impose this aberration through bloody means, murdering and disappearing our compañer@s, sending our spokespeople to high security prisons, making shameless torture into government marketing, and with the help of the paid press, criminalizing the bravest part of Mexican society, that is, those who struggle, who do not give in, who do not sell out, and who do not give up.

We demand a halt to the repression against the teachers in struggle and the immediate and unconditional liberation of ALL political prisoners.

We invite all of the peoples of the countryside and cities to be attentive and in solidarity with the teachers’ struggle, to organize autonomously in order to remain informed and alert in the face of the storm that is upon all of us, knowing that a storm, in addition to its turmoil and chaos, also makes the ground fertile where a new world is always born.

From the mountains, countryside, valleys, canyons, and barrios of the originary peoples, nations, and tribes of Mexico.

Never Again a Mexico Without Us!
National Indigenous Congress
Zapatista Army for National Liberation
Mexico, June 20, 2016

radio
Apuntes del Gato-perro

Notes on the War Against the Teachers in Resistance (The Hour of the Police 3)

Notes on the War Against the Teachers in Resistance
(The Hour of the Police 3)

June 2016

From the notebook of the cat-dog:

—We don’t know about the rest of the country, but in Chiapas those above are losing the media war.

We have seen entire families support the teachers, in the rural areas as well as the urban. And we aren’t talking about support of the “we see your raised fists” type, or that of “the people united will never be defeated” and other slogans that continue to be the same despite distances in calendar and geography because below solidarity continues to be a basic principle. But if in previous mobilizations among the rebellious teachers, the “citizens” (a term that hides inequality) were bothered and fed up, now things have changed.

There are more and more families helping the teachers, donating support for their trips and marches, becoming anxious when they are attacked, offering food, drink, and refuge. They are families who, according to the taxonomy of the electoral left, have been “dumbed down” by television, or are “sandwich-gobblers,”(i) “deranged,” “sheep,” “people without conscience.” But it seems that the outsized media campaign against the teachers in resistance has failed.

The resistance movement against the education reform has become a mirror for more and more people-people (meaning, not social and political organizations, but ordinary people). It is as if the resistance has awoken a collective sense of urgency in the face of the coming tragedy. It is as if every swing of a police baton, every canister of tear gas, every rubber bullet, and every arrest warrant were eloquent slogans: “today I attack her, him; tomorrow I’m coming for you.” Perhaps that is why, behind every teacher there are entire families that sympathize with their cause and their struggle.

Why? Why does a movement that has been fiercely attacked on all sides continue to grow? If they are “vandals,” “slackers,” “terrorists,” “corrupt,” and “opposed to progress,” then why do so many people below, no small number in the middle, and even a few above salute the teachers, even if sometimes in silence, for defending what anyone would defend?

(Continuar leyendo…)

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CNI | EZLN

JOINT COMMUNIQUE BY THE CNI AND EZLN ON REPRESSION AGAINST THE COMMUNITY OF CHABLEKAL

To the media
To the Human Rights organizations
To the Union of Inhabitants of Chablekal
To the people of Mexico

Sisters and Brothers

We, the peoples, communities, tribes, neighborhoods, organizations, and collectives who make up the National Indigenous Congress (CNI) denounce and condemn the events today in the community of Chablekal, Yucatán, where the police attempted to evict an elder of the community from his home. Upon learning of the unjust eviction, the inhabitants decided to protest to try to stop the action, to which state antiriot police responded with tear gas. Women, children, and elderly persons were present; as of now more than 40 canisters of tear gas have been found in the community.

Jorge Fernández Mendiburu and Martha Capetillo Pasos, in their role as human rights defenders and members of the Human Rights Center Indignación A.C. and the National Indigenous Congress, were arbitrarily detained, beaten, and handcuffed in an aggressive manner and against all due process. Although they were released shortly after, this constitutes an act of intimidation and criminalization of human rights observation and social protest.

(Continuar leyendo…)

radio

About CompArte: A few questions, a few answers. Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés. Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano

Arte_zapatista

Zapatista Army for National Liberation.

Mexico

March 14, 2016

Compas and non-compas:

We write to tell you a little about how plans are going for the activities in July, October, and December of 2016. We have received a few questions, so here are a few answers, but only regarding the festival “CompArte for Humanity.”

“How is the registration for the art festival looking?”

As of March 12, 2016, we had registered:

21 attendees from Mexico and 5 from other countries.

99 participants from Mexico and 30 from other countries (Chile, Argentina, Greece, Canada, United States, Spanish State, New Zealand, Trinidad and Tobago, Guatemala, Colombia, Costa Rica, Brazil, Peru, Cross-border or Without Borders, Uruguay, France, and the Sufi Community with Islamic music).

“What kind of activities or artistic works are registered so far?

According to those who have registered so far, there is: rap, poetry, visual arts, contemporary dance, painting, engraving, literature and stories, theater, puppets, embroidery, iron work, silk-screening, photography, documentaries, cinema, sculpture, ceramics, short films, illustration, reggae, rock, graffiti, gastronomy, aerial dance, murals, music, music, and more music.

“What is this about “alternate sites” for the CompArte Festival?”

We are hoping that the compas of the Sixth in Mexico and in the world understand what you might call the subliminal message of the convocation and organize activities—in their own geographies and in accordance with their own calendars—either before, during, or after the festivals/gatherings convoked by the Zapatistas. That is, we hope that whether at local, regional, zone, or national levels, the Sixth organizes festivals and gatherings to give space for and echo to artistic activities. And of course, also to celebrate the National Indigenous Congress’ 20 years of rebellion and resistance, as well as a space where scientists will find attentive ears and critical thought.

“Is it necessary to register to attend, without participating in, the ‘CompArte’ festival?”

Yes, just clarify that you are registering as an attendee.

“Is necessary to register to attend and participate in the “CompArte” festival?”

Yes, and we ask you to specify the form your participation will take.

“What is the email where one can register for the ‘CompArte for Humanity festival’?”

The email is compArte@ezln.org.mx

“Can you tell me again the dates and locations for the ‘CompArte for Humanity’ festival?”

No, those are already in the communiqué from February 29…. Okay, okay okay, here they are:

Dates: July 17-30, 2016

Location:

July 17-22 in the caracol of Oventik. Only Zapatista bases of support will participate in this part. Attendance is open for escuchas [ears/listeners] and videntes [seers/viewers], but requires registration.

July 23-30, 2016 in CIDECI, San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. All registered artists can participate. Attendance is open for listeners and viewers, but requires registration.

“Is there a registration fee, either for attendees or participants?

No.

“Are you (Zapatistas) going to pay for travel expenses, food, and lodging?”

No.

“According to Zapatismo, is gastronomy an art?”

Everyone can categorize their practice as they see fit. In the case of the difficult culinary arts, the insurgentas, as an echo of March 8, will contribute a menu that is…hmm… how can I put it… disconcerting: “tamale shakes and coffee with chili pepper” (note: for the tamale shake they don’t use a blender or any other machine, only the cooking fire and their “wisdom”). I already suffered… I mean, tasted it and it is… disconcerting.

“Can children participate?”

Yes, children can register to participate or attend. Except for the girls, because what a shame, the deadline has passed, it was March 8, so oh well…eh? But it’s that… ay! Okay, okay okay: the girls can register too. Note: all minors should be accompanied by a mother or father or tutor, tutora, or tutoroa.

“Is anything banned from these events?”

Yes, the production, consumption, or sale of drugs and alcohol is strictly forbidden. If you aren’t capable of making or enjoying art without taking something before or during, well your method is mistaken.

“There still isn’t a report back on the Little School?”

No. The questions sent by students are currently being reviewed. When something is ready, we’ll let those interested know.

That’s all for now.

Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés.  Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano.

Mexico, March 2016.

From the diaries of the cat-dog:

The time of the police (part one):

One: In Mexico, a Latin American country that suffers the global crisis like they all do, but which is fueled by the solid triad of corruption-clumsiness-ignorance made into a government, the official in charge of public education, Aurelio Nuño Mayer, cannot hide his passion for the policing profession. Encouraged by his accomplices, Mr. Nuño believes that he can win the presidential candidacy for his party, the PRI, if he functions more as paid thug than as promoter of Mexican education. Fond of making threats, running his own repressive squads, and operating like any boss in the early stages of savage capitalism, Mr. Nuño finds special pleasure in converting the teaching profession into a destination not for better schools, training, and salaries, but for arbitrary injustices, beatings, and firings. Playing the role of prosecutor, judge, and jury; of Labor Minister (decreeing firings without severance); of Minister of the Interior (using the police and the army at his whim); of clumsy media spokesperson, dismal builder of “spontaneous” support, and twitterer in permanent slow motion, Mr. Nuño’s only resumé merit is having sheltered himself within that group of criminals who engage in criminal activity with total immunity. Despite his suits and ties, his heavily made up and photo-shopped media image, Mr. Nuño cannot hide what he has always been: a sad and mediocre policeman who gets pleasure from and money for repressing and humiliating others. Mr. Nuño has always longed to be a good policeman, but… when the den of thieves is insufficient to accommodate so many, when his secret protector falls, Mr. Nuño will also show he is a good runner… when fleeing becomes the order of the day.

Another one: In this country known in the realm of the world cups (although no further than the quarterfinals) as “Mexico,” in the so-called “highest place of study,” the Autonomous National University of Mexico (UNAM), Mr. Enrique Graue Wiechers has reached the highest bureaucratic position (and ladder to governmental post): the title of rector [like chancellor or dean]. In addition to the fact that his academic and professional career has been located within the bureaucracy of the academy and carefully guided by the Zedillo Ponce de León family’s psychiatrist, Mr. Graue did his graduate work in a North American university know for having invented the energy drink self-named “Gatorade,” which should give you an idea of how advanced he is in his specialty field of ophthalmology. A few days ago, Mr. Graue declared he was “outraged” because of the insufficient quantity of drugs police planted on one of the activists from the Che Guevara Auditorium (which the university authorities are futilely trying to call the Justo Sierra Auditorium). Mr. Graue was not enraged that the federal budgeting for higher education would not be sufficient to cover hundreds of thousands of young people; nor was he enraged by the mercantilist conditions that academic faculty and staff are subjected to; nor was he enraged because the UNAM has become a nest of undesirables, that is, of bureaucratic functionaries who don’t even know how to write the name of their overseer (that is, the rector); nor was he enraged by the lack of security endured by faculty, staff, and students on the UNAM campuses (assaults, rapes, and murders); and he was not enraged because an anti-democratic gangsterism had placed, in the highest post of the “highest place of study,” a mediocre bureaucrat.

No, Mr. Graue was enraged because the police didn’t do a good job of setting someone up to be framed. And this outrages Mr. Graue because all his life he has endeavored to be a good police agent. With his indignant police discourse (seconded by people who don’t even know where the Justo Sierra Auditorium is, much less the Che Guevara), Mr. Graue gives a lecture: “the problem with higher education in Mexico lies with a vegetarian cafeteria, a screen printing workshop, and a bakery training space, among other things. These subversive activities are promoted by a group of anarchists, that is, dirty, ugly, and bad people who contrast sharply with the neatness and style of the university bureaucracy. They don’t even sell Gatorade, but rather water and juices of unknown origin. They are drug addicts (the high, medium, and low-ranking officials hide cocaine, crystal meth, ecstasy, and even crack and an occasional roach in their desk drawers —even within bureaucracy there are classes, my friend), they’re anarchic-anarchists, not part of the university community (various officials swallow hard) and that auditorium… the auditorium, what’s that auditorium… secretary quick, what’s the name of that auditorium that we want to liberate.. ah yes, the Justo Sierra Auditorium in the School of Medicine… eh? …It’s not in the School of Medicine?.. huh?… you’re recording? Give notice!… okay… in the School of Philosophy and Letters of Acatlán… no?… is it in Ciudad Universitaria?…Oh isn’t CU where the Pumas play?…So there are academic departments there too?… I’m only familiar with the rector’s suite… well anyway, wherever it is, it should be “liberated” by the police, and by police who know how to plant the evidence properly, not those scatter-brains that don’t even know how to place a bit of “spearmint” in a backpack. That’s why an elite group of my officials are going to start a degree program on how to place drugs in briefcases. Yes yes I know that’s not the same, but we don’t carry backpacks, we carry briefcases. As I have said… what, no applause?… Turn on the recorder man! No, not that one, you’ll ruin my cabinet career ambitions. The other one! Yes that one! Thank you, thank you to the authentic university community members who know that the university serves to domesticate, not to teach nor investigate! Thank you, thank you, thank you! How was that? Wha? I said turn that recorder off! No not the one with the cheering, the other one, the one that’s recording!

Mr. Graue is furious, he was just trying to be a good police agent.

I testify: woof-meow.

Cat-dog.

Copyleft 2016. Permission from the Good Government Council under conditions of “we’ll be back tomorrow to see if its ready, who knows, maybe it will be a new Council rotation by then, but in the meantime let me tell you the history of Zapatista autonomy. You already know it? Well then we should review it, as they say, until it truly sticks in your head. Did you bring your notebook? Write in “resistance and rebellion” or “rebellion and resistance,” it’s the same thing, because the order of the “r’s” doesn’t’ affect our autonomy. Haven’t you studied mathematics? Just songs? Well look, you need arts and sciences, there’s no way around it.”

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