\n<\/strong>Fragmentos de una carta del Subcomandante Insurgente Mois\u00e9s enviada, har\u00e1 hace algunos meses, a una geograf\u00eda lejana en distancia y cercana en pensamiento:<\/p>\n
\u201cComisi\u00f3n Sexta Zapatista. \u00a0<\/em>Abril del 2023.<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n Porque entonces ser\u00eda algo as\u00ed como que, frente a la terrible tormenta que azota ya todos los rincones del planeta, incluso aquellos que se pensaban a salvo de todo mal, nosotros no vemos la tormenta.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Quiero decir, no s\u00f3lo vemos la tormenta, y la destrucci\u00f3n, muerte y dolor que trae consigo.\u00a0 Tambi\u00e9n vemos lo que sigue.\u00a0 Queremos ser la semilla de una futura ra\u00edz que no veremos, que luego ser\u00e1, a su vez, el c\u00e9sped que tampoco veremos.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 La vocaci\u00f3n zapatista, si alguien nos apura a una definici\u00f3n lac\u00f3nica, es entonces \u201cser buena semilla\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 No pretendemos heredar a las pr\u00f3ximas generaciones una concepci\u00f3n del mundo.\u00a0 No heredarles nuestras miserias, nuestros rencores, nuestros dolores, nuestras fobias, ni nuestras filias.\u00a0 Tampoco que sean un espejo con una imagen m\u00e1s o menos aproximada de lo que supongamos bueno o malo.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Lo que queremos es heredar vida.\u00a0 Lo que hagan con ella otras generaciones ser\u00e1 su decisi\u00f3n y, sobre todo, su responsabilidad.\u00a0 As\u00ed como nosotros heredamos vida de nuestros ancestros, tomamos lo que consideramos valioso, y nos asignamos una tarea.\u00a0 Y, claro, nos hacemos responsables de la decisi\u00f3n que tomamos, de lo que hacemos para cumplir esa tarea, y de las consecuencias de nuestras acciones y omisiones.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Cuando decimos que \u201cNo es necesario conquistar el mundo, basta con hacerlo de nuevo\u201d, nos alejamos, definitiva e irremediablemente, de las concepciones pol\u00edticas vigentes y de las anteriores.\u00a0 El mundo que vemos no es perfecto, ni de lejos.\u00a0 Pero es mejor, sin duda alguna.\u00a0 Un mundo donde cada quien sea quien es, sin verg\u00fcenza, sin ser perseguido, mutilado, encarcelado, asesinado, marginado, oprimido.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00bfC\u00f3mo se llama ese mundo?\u00a0 \u00bfQu\u00e9 sistema lo sostiene o es el dominante?\u00a0 Bueno, eso lo decidir\u00e1n, o no, quienes vivan en \u00e9l.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Un mundo donde los afanes de hegemonizar y homogeneizar aprendan de lo que provocaron en \u00e9ste y otros tiempos, y fracasen en ese mundo por venir.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Un mundo en el cual la humanidad no sea definida por la igualdad (que no hace sino esconder la segregaci\u00f3n de los que \u201cno son iguales\u201d), sino por la diferencia.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Un mundo donde la diferencia no se persiga, sino que se celebre.\u00a0 Un mundo en el que las historias contadas no sean las de los que ganan, porque nadie gana.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Un mundo donde las historias que se cuenten, sea en la intimidad, o en las artes, o en la cultura, sean como las que nuestros abuelas y abuelos nos contaron, y que ense\u00f1en no quien gan\u00f3, porque nadie gan\u00f3 y, por lo tanto, nadie perdi\u00f3.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Esas historias que nos permitieron imaginar cosas terribles y maravillosas y en las que, entre la lluvia y el olor del ma\u00edz coci\u00e9ndose, el caf\u00e9 y el tabaco, alcanzamos a imaginar un mundo incompleto, s\u00ed, torpe tambi\u00e9n, pero mucho mejor que el mundo que nuestros antepasados y nuestros contempor\u00e1neos hemos padecido y estamos padeciendo.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 No pretendemos heredar leyes, manuales, cosmovisiones, catecismos, reglas, rutas, destinos, pasos, compa\u00f1\u00edas, que, si se ve con detenimiento, es a lo que aspiran casi todas las propuestas pol\u00edticas.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Nuestra pretensi\u00f3n es m\u00e1s sencilla y terriblemente m\u00e1s dif\u00edcil: heredar vida.<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Porque nosotros vemos que esa terrible tormenta, cuyos primeros ventarrones y lluvias ya azotan al planeta entero, est\u00e1 llegando muy r\u00e1pido y muy fuerte.\u00a0 Entonces no vemos lo inmediato.\u00a0 O s\u00ed, pero de acuerdo con lo que vemos a largo plazo.\u00a0 Nuestra realidad inmediata est\u00e1 definida o de acuerdo con dos realidades: una de muerte y destrucci\u00f3n que habr\u00e1 de sacar a flote lo peor del ser humano, sin importar su clase social, su color, su raza, su cultura, su geograf\u00eda, su lengua, su tama\u00f1o; y otra de volver a empezar sobre los escombros de un sistema que hizo lo que mejor sabe hacer, es decir, destruir.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00bfPor qu\u00e9 decimos que a la pesadilla que ya est\u00e1, y que no har\u00e1 sino empeorar, seguir\u00e1 un despertar?\u00a0 Bueno, porque hay quienes, como nosotros, estamos empe\u00f1ados en mirar esa posibilidad.\u00a0 M\u00ednima, es cierto.\u00a0 Pero todos los d\u00edas y a todas horas, en todas partes, luchamos porque esa m\u00ednima posibilidad vaya creciendo y, aunque peque\u00f1a y sin importancia -como una semilla diminuta-, crezca y, alg\u00fan d\u00eda, sea el \u00e1rbol de la vida que ser\u00e1 de todos los colores o no ser\u00e1.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 No somos los \u00fanicos.\u00a0 En estos 30 a\u00f1os nos hemos asomado a muchos mundos.\u00a0 Diferentes en modos, tiempos, geograf\u00edas, historias propias, calendarios.\u00a0 Pero iguales s\u00f3lo en el empe\u00f1o y la mirada absurda puesta en un tiempo extempor\u00e1neo que suceder\u00e1, no por el destino, no por designio divino, no porque alguien pierda para que alguien gane.\u00a0 No, ser\u00e1 porque estamos trabajando en ello, luchando, viviendo y muriendo por ello.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y habr\u00e1 un prado, y habr\u00e1 flores, y \u00e1rboles, y r\u00edos, y animales de todo tipo.\u00a0 Y habr\u00e1 c\u00e9sped porque habr\u00e1 ra\u00edces.\u00a0 Y habr\u00e1 una ni\u00f1a, un ni\u00f1o, unoa ni\u00f1oa que estar\u00e1 con vida.\u00a0 Y llegar\u00e1 el d\u00eda en que tenga que hacerse responsable de la decisi\u00f3n que tome de qu\u00e9 hacer con esa vida.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 \u00bfNo es \u00e9sa la libertad?<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y les contaremos la historia de la mujer ind\u00edgena de ra\u00edz maya, de m\u00e1s de 40 a\u00f1os, que se cay\u00f3 decenas de veces aprendiendo a andar en una bicicleta rodada 20.\u00a0 Pero tambi\u00e9n que se levant\u00f3 el mismo n\u00famero de veces y ahora anda en una rodada 24 o rodada 26 y, con ella, llegar\u00e1 a los cursos de plantas medicinales.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Del promotor de salud que llegar\u00e1 a tiempo, a una comunidad apartada y sin camino pavimentado, para administrar suero anti viperino a un anciano atacado por una v\u00edbora nauyaca.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 De la ind\u00edgena, autoridad aut\u00f3noma que, con su nag\u00fca<\/strong> y su morraleta<\/strong>, llegar\u00e1 a tiempo a una asamblea de \u201ccomo mujeres que somos\u201d y podr\u00e1 dar la pl\u00e1tica sobre higiene femenina.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y que, cuando no hab\u00eda veh\u00edculo, gasolina, chofer o camino transitable, la salud, en la medida de nuestro desarrollo y posibilidades, llegar\u00e1 a una champa en un rinc\u00f3n de la selva lacandona.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Una champa donde, alrededor de un fog\u00f3n, lloviendo y sin luz el\u00e9ctrica, llegar\u00e1, tambi\u00e9n en bicicleta, la promotora de educaci\u00f3n y, entre el olor a ma\u00edz cocido, caf\u00e9 y tabaco, escuchar\u00e1 una historia terrible y maravillosa, contada en la voz y lengua de una anciana.\u00a0 Y en esa historia se hablar\u00e1 del Vot\u00e1n<\/strong>, que no era hombre ni mujer ni otroa.\u00a0 Y que no era uno, sino muchos.\u00a0 Y escuchar\u00e1 que dir\u00e1: \u201ceso somos, Vot\u00e1n<\/strong>, guardi\u00e1n y coraz\u00f3n del pueblo\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y que, ya en la escuela, esa promotora de educaci\u00f3n les contar\u00e1 a los ni\u00f1os y las ni\u00f1as zapatistas esa historia.\u00a0 Bueno, m\u00e1s bien la versi\u00f3n que har\u00e1 de lo que se acuerde haber escuchado, porque no muy se o\u00eda debido al ruido de la lluvia y la voz apagada de la mujer que contaba la historia.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y de \u201cla cumbia de la bicicleta\u201d que alg\u00fan grupo juvenil musical habr\u00e1 de crear y que nos aliviar\u00e1 a todos de escuchar por en\u00e9sima vez \u201cla cumbia del sapito\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0 Y nuestros muertos, a quienes debemos honor y vida, tal vez dir\u00e1n \u201cbueno, al fin hemos entrado a la era de la rueda\u201d.\u00a0 Y en las noches mirar\u00e1n el cielo estrellado, sin nubes que lo oculten, y dir\u00e1n \u201c\u00a1Bicicletas!\u00a0 De ah\u00ed, siguen las naves espaciales\u201d.\u00a0 Y reir\u00e1n, lo s\u00e9.\u00a0 Y alguien vivo pondr\u00e1 a funcionar una grabadorita y se escuchar\u00e1 una cumbia que todos, vivos y muertos, esperamos que no sea \u201cla del mo\u00f1o colorado\u201d.<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n Desde las monta\u00f1as del Sureste Mexicano. Estos fragmentos son tomados del original, y con las autorizaciones del remitente y de la destinataria. El Capit\u00e1n. Twelfth part: Fragments<\/strong> \u201cSixth Zapatista Commission. April 2023<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n Because then it would be something like, in the face of the terrible storm that is already hitting every corner of the planet, even those who thought themselves safe from all evil, we did not see the storm.<\/em><\/p>\n I mean, we don\u2019t just see the storm, and the destruction, death and pain that it brings. We also see what comes next. We want to be the seed of a future root that we will not see, which will then be, in turn, the grass that we will not see either.<\/em><\/p>\n The Zapatista vocation, if someone pushes us to a laconic definition, is \u201cto be a good seed.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n We do not intend to leave for inheritance a conception of the world to the next generations. Neither to inherit our miseries, our resentments, our pain, our phobias, or our philias. Nor for them to be a mirror with a more or less approximate image of what we assume is good or bad.<\/em><\/p>\n What we want to leave for inheritance is life. What other generations do with it will be their decision and, above all, their responsibility. Just as we inherited life from our ancestors, we took what we considered valuable, and we assigned ourselves a task. And, of course, we take responsibility for the decision we made, for what we do in order to accomplish that task, and for the consequences of our actions and omissions.<\/em><\/p>\n When we say that \u201cIt is not necessary to conquer the world, it is enough to do it again\u201d, we move away, definitively and irremediably, from the current and previous political conceptions. The world we see is not perfect, not even close. But it is better, without a doubt. A world where everyone is who they are, without shame, without being persecuted, mutilated, imprisoned, murdered, marginalized, oppressed.<\/em><\/p>\n What is that world called? What system supports it or is dominant? Well, that will be decided, or not, by those who live there.<\/em><\/p>\n A world where the desires to hegemonize and homogenize learn from what they caused in this time and other times, and fail in that world to come.<\/em><\/p>\n A world in which humanity is not defined by equality (which only hides the segregation of those who \u201care not equal\u201d), but by difference.<\/em><\/p>\n A world where difference is not persecuted, but celebrated. A world in which the stories told are not those of those who win, because no one wins.<\/em><\/p>\n A world where the stories that are told, whether in intimacy, or in the arts, or in culture, are like those that our grandmothers and grandfathers told us, and that teach not who won, because no one won and, therefore, nobody lost.<\/em><\/p>\n Those stories that allowed us to imagine terrible and wonderful things and in which, between the rain and the smell of cooking corn, coffee and tobacco, we managed to imagine an incomplete world, yes, clumsy too, but much better than the world that our ancestors and our contemporaries have suffered and are suffering.<\/em><\/p>\n We do not intend to leave for inheritance laws, manuals, worldviews, catechisms, rules, routes, destinations, steps, companies, which, if you look closely, is what almost all political proposals aspire to.<\/em><\/p>\n Our goal is simpler and terribly more difficult: to leave life for inheritance.<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n Because we see that this terrible storm, whose first gales and rains are already hitting the entire planet, is arriving very quickly and very strongly. So, we don\u2019t see the immediate. Or yes, but according to what we see in the long term. Our immediate reality is defined or in accordance with two realities: one of death and destruction that will bring out the worst in human beings, regardless of their social class, their color, their race, their culture, their geography, their language, their size; and another of starting over, from the rubble of a system that did what it does best, that is, to destroy.<\/em><\/p>\n Why do we say that the nightmare that already exists, and that will only get worse, will be followed by an awakening? Well, because there are those, like us, who are determined to look at that possibility. Minimal, it\u2019s true. But every day and at all hours, everywhere, we fight so that this minimal possibility grows and, although small and unimportant \u2013just like a tiny seed\u2014, it grows and, one day, it becomes the tree of life that will be of all colors or won\u2019t be at all.<\/em><\/p>\n We are not the only ones. In these 30 years we have leaned out into many worlds. Different in ways, times, geographies, own stories, calendars. But equal only in the effort and the absurd gaze placed on an untimely time that will happen, not because of destiny, not because of divine design, not because someone loses so that someone wins. No, it will be because we are working on it, fighting, living and dying for it.<\/em><\/p>\n And there will be a meadow, and there will be flowers, and trees, and rivers, and animals of all kinds. And there will be grass because there will be roots. And there will be a girl, a boy, a child who will be alive. And the day will come when she\/he will have to take responsibility for the decision she\/he makes about what to do with that life.<\/em><\/p>\n Isn\u2019t that freedom?<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em><\/p>\n And we will tell you the story of the indigenous woman of Mayan roots, over 40 years old, who fell dozens of times while learning to ride a 20-wheeled bicycle. But also, got up the same number of times and is now riding a 24 or 26-wheeled bicycle and, with it, she will reach the medicinal plants courses.<\/em><\/p>\n Of the health promoter who will arrive on time, to a remote community without a paved road, to administer anti-viper serum to an elderly man attacked by a nauyaca viper.<\/em><\/p>\n Of the indigenous, autonomous authority who, with her \u2018nag\u00fca<\/strong>\u2019 and her \u2018morraleta\u2019<\/strong>, will arrive on time to an assembly of \u201cas women that we are\u201d and will be able to give the talk on feminine hygiene.<\/em><\/p>\n And that, when there was no vehicle, gasoline, driver or passable road, to the extent of our development and possibilities, health would reach a champa in a corner of the Lacandon jungle.<\/em><\/p>\n A champa where, around a stove, raining and without electricity, the education promoter will arrive, also by bicycle, and, among the smell of cooked corn, coffee and tobacco, she will hear a terrible and wonderful story, told in the voice and tongue of an old woman. And in that story there will be talk about Vot\u00e1n<\/strong>, who was neither man nor woman nor \u201cotroa\u201d. And it was not one, but many. And she will hear her say: \u201cthat is what we are, Vot\u00e1n<\/strong>, guardian and heart of the people.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n And that, already at school, that education promoter will tell the Zapatista boys and girls that story. Well, more like the version that she will make of what she remembers having heard, because it couldn\u2019t really be heard, due to the noise of the rain and the muffled voice of the woman who was telling the story.<\/em><\/p>\n And about \u201cthe cumbia of the bicycle\u201d that some musical youth group will create and that will relieve us all from hearing \u201cthe cumbia of the frog\u201d for the umpteenth time.<\/em><\/p>\n And our dead, to whom we owe honor and life, perhaps will say \u201cwell, we have finally entered the age of the wheel.\u201d And at night they will look at the starry sky, without clouds to hide it, and they will say \u201cBicycles! From there, the spaceships follow.\u201d And they will laugh, I know. And someone alive will start a tape recorder and a cumbia will be heard that all of us, the living and the dead, hope is not \u201cla del mo\u00f1o colorado.\u201d<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n (\u2026)<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n From the mountains of the Mexican southeast. These fragments are taken from the original, and with the authorizations of the sender and recipient. The Captain. [:es] Doceava parte: Fragmentos. Fragmentos de una carta del Subcomandante Insurgente Mois\u00e9s enviada, har\u00e1 hace algunos meses, a una geograf\u00eda lejana en distancia y cercana en pensamiento: \u201cComisi\u00f3n Sexta Zapatista. M\u00e9xico. \u00a0Abril del 2023. (\u2026) Porque entonces ser\u00eda algo as\u00ed como que, frente a la terrible tormenta que azota ya todos los rincones del planeta, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":46890,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[957,6,118,955,953],"tags":[644,926],"class_list":["post-46889","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-autonomia","category-chiapas","category-ezln","category-ezln-temas","category-mundo","tag-comunicados-ezln","tag-ezln"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46889","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=46889"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46889\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":46909,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/46889\/revisions\/46909"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/46890"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=46889"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=46889"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/radiozapatista.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=46889"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/em><\/strong>M\u00e9xico.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n
\n<\/em>A nombre de los ni\u00f1os, ni\u00f1as, hombres, mujeres y otroas zapatistas.
\n<\/em>Subcomandante Insurgente Mois\u00e9s.
\n<\/em>Coordinador General de la \u201cGira por la Vida\u201d.
\n<\/em>M\u00e9xico, abril del 2023.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\nDoy fe.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/firma.png?resize=274%2C222&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n
\nNoviembre del 2023.[:en]<\/p>\n
\nFragments of a letter written by Subcommander Insurgent Moises, sent a few months ago, to a geography distant in space but close in thought:<\/p>\n
\n<\/em>Mexico.<\/em><\/p>\n
\n<\/em>In the name of the Zapatista boys, girls, men, women and \u2018otroas\u2019.
\n<\/em>Subcommander Insurgent Mois\u00e9s.
\n<\/em>General Coordinator of the \u201cTour for Life\u201d.
\n<\/em>Mexico, April 2023.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\nI attest.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/enlacezapatista.ezln.org.mx\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/11\/firma.png?resize=242%2C196&ssl=1\")
<\/p>\n
\nNovember 2023[:]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"