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…)

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

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.

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

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…)

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…)

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.”

ZAPATISTA ARMY FOR NATIONAL LIBERATION

MEXICO.

February 2016

For: Juan Villoro Ruiz:

Brother:

I’m happy to hear that the rest of your family bajo protesta[i] are well, and I appreciate your serving as messenger to send them our greetings and gifts (although I continue to think that ties, ashtrays, and vases would have been a better choice).

As I picked up my pen to continue this conversation with you, I remembered your text “Speech on the rain” (Almadía Press, 2013), written, I believe, for the stage, which I read imagining, clumsily I’m sure, the set and the gestures and movements of the actor delivering the monologue, feeling the intervention more than witnessing it. The beginning, for example, is a summary of my life: the laconic “I lost my papers!” of the first line would make for an encyclopedia if I anchor it in the calendars and geographies of this continual lapse and relapse that I have been.

(Continuar leyendo…)

And in the Zapatista Communities?

Zapatista Army for National Liberation

Mexico

February 2016

To the compañer@s of the Sixth:
To whom it may concern:

Compañeroas, compañeros and compañeras:

Now we are going to tell you a little bit about the Zapatista communities, where the bases of support resist and struggle.

What we are going to share with you now comes from reports by the Zapatista compañeras and compañeros in the communities who are coordinators for their commissions (for example, health, education, young people, etc), autonomous authorities, or other organizational coordinators. But along with the compas of the Comité [CCRI] we checked to make sure this information wasn’t a lie, that things hadn’t been altered so that the good things would appear and bad things would remain hidden. The work of these writings is not to lie to our compas of the Sixth nor to those who support us and are in their solidarity. We won’t lie to you, to them, nor to anyone else.

(Continuar leyendo…)

MEANWHILE… in the partidista communities
[communities affiliated to political parties]

ZAPATISTA ARMY FOR NATIONAL LIBERATION
Mexico

February 2016.

To the compañer@s of the Sixth:
To whom it may concern:
To our compas and those who aren’t compas:

What we are going to relate to you here comes from the indigenous partidistas that live in various zones of the southeastern Mexican state of Chiapas. Although they are active in, supportive of, or work directly for different institutional political parties (PRI, PAN, PRD, PVEN, PMRN, PANAL, PT, PES, PFH… in addition to any others that join the crowd between now and 2018), what they share is having received aid programs from the bad government, as well as serving as the human component for votes and for earthly and heavenly herding. This in addition, of course, to being indigenous and Mexican.

What you are about to read has not appeared, does not appear, nor will it appear in the local, national, or international paid media. It also directly contradicts the government’s propaganda and the praises sung by its media (badly, of course).

(Continuar leyendo…)

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Colectivo Radio Zapatista. México, 6 de enero de 2016.

MUJER DE AIRE

Para Ramona, comandanta, a diez años de su partida.

Llorábamos colibríes que nos nacían pecho dentro. Pequeños y caídos de los ojos, nos aleteaban incorporados con fuerza, gotas de almas guerreras que nunca se marchaban sin libarnos el corazón.

Cantábamos cenzontles agolpados en las muelas que nos rozaban la faringe desde el silencio de nuestra voz.

Transpirábamos quetzales engendrados en las venas. Y nos escurría el honor y nos empapaba aquella majestuosa bruma de nuestra ancestría.

Pero vivíamos tiempos peores, los de la invisibilidad, cuando nos cubríamos ante la luna para no mirar. Cuando éramos olvido, mentira, duda.

Luego llegaron las mujeres y los hombres de maíz obligando a la verdad a caminar erguida. La trajeron caminando sus caminos. Nos escarbaron las arterias, las bocas, nos arañaron las miradas para despojarnos del temor y enseñarnos a destruir nuestra violencia fraternal.

Venía en esos caminos una indígena tzotzil que siendo nadie se volvió todas y todos. Guiada y seguida por nuestra historia, se reunió con valientes para ser en colectivo y aleccionarnos. Cuando los desiertos la ahogaban, sobrevoló jardines coral y su llanto mojó cementerios que devolvían en azul nuestro reflejo. Por ella y todos ellos adquirimos la técnica suave que desaparece costras en anís. Y tejimos colores desenredando cabelleras torcidas por sangre como quien rasga un harpa cordada al cristal.

Entre sus dedos, ella hilvanó hermanas y hermanos para enderezar, ligeros, nuestros huesos en huida hacia lo nuevo. Entonces nos descubrimos bajo el sol y la escuchamos decir lo que nunca dijo:

“Yo soy mujer de aire

que alentó nubes oscuras

y bailó a compás de trueno,

mujer bronceada por relámpagos.

Amamanté legiones de criaturas tristes

para endulzar sus bocas excoriaditas de sal.

Si la atmósfera suelda nuestra frontera inmediata,

¿cómo podrá aprisionarme el dolor? Yo respiro viento.

Cuando lleguen los tiempos mejores donde el alba

escape de su cárcel de montaña y el sol decida

quemar el horizonte como insinuando su perfil

en lontananza, volveré a ocupar este cuerpo

sin años que, en reposo total, sugerirá

paciencia a las constelaciones

mientras anticipa, agorero,

la nostalgia”.