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Ramor Ryan
A little child, big-bellied and mucky, stumbles out of her dirt-floor house into the sun and smiles radiantly. This is 4-year-old Rosa, a child of Diez de Abril, born of two Zapatista Militia volunteers Adelita and Palestino. It is January 2002 and despite much adversity, Rosa is alive and well. She lives where she was born, a fertile valley in Chiapas, occupied by the EZLN in 1994, and populated by a Zapatista support base community in 1995.
The history of Diez de Abril is one of struggle and resistance. It is an inspiring example of how a dispossessed people, united by necessity and will, can organise themselves into a strong representative organisation. And through this organisation satisfy, using lightening direct action and long-term community resolve, the demand for land and freedom. Such it was that landless Tzeltal and Tojolabal indigenous farmers joined with the EZLN, participated in the insurrection of 1994 and seized this land by force. They drove the finquero (land estate owner) away and defended the gains of this local revolution from subsequent police, military and paramilitary threat with their bodies and political guile. The 4 years of little Rosa's life have been tumultuous, dramatic and occasionally traumatic, but like the community, here she is, young and healthy and looking towards a better future.
Rosa, apparently, was conceived on a starry night during a Zapatista party. Two masked militia volunteers met on the crowded dance-floor and it must have being love at first sight. Adelita soon moved into Palestino's home in Diez where he lived with his mother Petrona. Rosa was not the only newcomer to the community that year, there came (apart from about 20 other newborns) activists from Ireland and other countries to establish an international solidarity camp to monitor state and military repression, and contribute to the development of the community.
1997 was a cruel year. The Governor of Chiapas, a rabid PRI-ista (from the governing party) stepped up the low-intensity warfare against the rebels. The arming and training of pro-government paramilitaries culminated in the massacre of 45 people, mainly children and women, at Acteal in December.
The assault on the base communities continued in 1998. On 13th April of that year, 800 soldiers and armed police entered Diez, firing shots and tear gas. They beat people with rifle butts and grabbed one youth, torturing him later in the barracks. Rosa was carried that day into the hills by her grandmother Petrona, while her mother Adelina stood at the front line with the other women, armed with sticks, to repel (unsuccessfully) the military assault.
As she protected Rosa in her arms, the soldiers burnt Petrona's humble house to the ground. This event no doubt quickened Petrona's death the next year from cancer.
If it isn't the military repression, there's always global warming and unprecedented climate changes. 1998 was a difficult year for Diez as the crop failed due to a long drought. The extraordinary dryness caused massive forest fires all over the Chiapas state. And as if natural disaster wasn't enough, the military were denounced for starting fires in Zapatista zones by hurling fire-bombs from helicopters.
Little Rosa was to be seen through those long nights carried on her mother's back rebozo-style, as Adelita participated in the people's fire-brigades, hauling buckets of water to the youths fighting the fires as they threatened community corn plantations.
The poor harvest meant the men had to migrate in search of work to feed their families. Most of the Diez men ended up working in construction in the mega-tourist resort of Cancun. They were paid $5 for one 10-hour day's labouring. Such is the mechanism of the unregulated neoliberal labour market that luxury hotels which charge tourists $100 a night are built by non-unionised migrant labour for desultory wages.
More grief was to come for this farming community. The torrential rains of 1999 caused the river to rise, breaking its banks and flooding a large portion of the milpa (corn plantation). Life in the village became a misery as the paths and dirt roads became mud swamps. The small wooden homes leaked and the wood for the kitchen fires was damp.
Nevertheless, a group of enthusiastic younger villagers created a new community nearby. Named Cauahtemoc in honour of the legendary Aztec Chief who resisted the conquistadores to the death 450 years ago, the new village represented how the struggle continues, and how it expands.
The New Year of 2000 was ushered in by the Zapatistas with quiet resilience and tempered hope. The echo of zapatismo had resounded on the streets of Seattle a month previous. The cause of anti-globalisation was in ascendancy, and the Zapatistas were not just a banner, but a key example of alternatives to neo-liberal globalisation, with their practice of autonomy in action. The dramatic defeat of the governing PRI (Institutionalized Revolution Party) in the August elections was a cause for great celebration. The inauguration of the new regime of the conservative PAN party was viewed with much scepticism, but at least the new president, Vincente Fox, seemed more interested in addressing the Chiapas conflict than his predecessor.
While the 23 Commandantes of the EZLN and their huge caravan travelled to the capital to address Congress engulfed in massive popular support, a local struggle convulsed Diez during 2001.
A land dispute rose between Diez and a neigbouring community. The government offered La Florida various handouts and development schemes. To accept the bribe, La Florida had to leave the Zapatista organisation. Land distributed to La Florida by the EZLN after the uprising was now in dispute. Counterinsurgency tactics attempting to divide rebel communities almost ended here in violence. Negotiations ensued and an agreement was reached. An uneasy peace reigns.
Rosa fell ill. Suffering from diarrhoea and fever, probably caused by the lack of sanitary water in the village, her worried parents called in the Health Promoter. Trained in Zapatista health workshops, he offered herbal remedies and more conventional fever-reducing pills. It helped, but still Rosa cried persistently, late into the nights.
The council of elected authorities went to the regional Zapatista Autonomous Municipal Assembly to argue their case for soliciting a water system project to Diez. There are several non-governmental teams of roving water technicians who install potable water systems in Zapatista communities. The demand is high, so water projects are allocated by the Autonomous Municipalities based on necessity and merit. The Diez authorities pressed upon the Municipal Assembly the urgency of their need for good water.
The water technicians arrived in Diez early in 2002, much to the delight of the inhabitants. It is the women and the children who do most of the hauling of water from the river to the homes. Despite the stalled peace process and the ongoing massive military presence in Chiapas, the prospect of good water, even if they have to dig a ditch for 7km to pipe it in from the mountain springs, is a most welcome development.
But I digress, this was meant to be the story of a child called Rosa. See her there standing in the sun smiling radiantly. Why is she so happy? Because the good water is coming? No. Most probably she is happy because of the arrival of a new sister in her home. The newly born baby will be called Petrona, in honour of the Grandmother whom Rosa never knew, but who carried her to the safety of the mountains when three years ago the military invaded. And from that trauma, Rosa moves ahead, carrying in her heart, like Diez de Abril, a new world.