Conference Papers
Survival of Indigenous Cultures in Mexico
Homero Aridjis
| Homero Aridjis, |
On March 12, 1545, three years after denouncing Spanish cruelty toward the natives in his Brief Account of the Devastation of the Indies, Fray Bartolome de las Casas arived in Chiapas, in southeastern Mexico, bearing the New Laws signed by Emperor Charles V of Spain. The laws forbade any further enslavement of the Indians and ordered any slaveholder who could not prove legitimate ownership to free his slaves. In the future no more Indians could be brought into the encomienda system, and upon the death of a slaveholder -- the encomendero -- the Indians in his possession would come under the tutelage of the throne, to be given instruction in the Roman Catholic religion as free vassals. The encomenderos bitterly opposed the New Laws, and an attempt was made on Las Casas’ life. But even on his deathbed, in 1566, the former bishop of Chiapas implored his friends to protect the Indians. And so began the defense of human rights in the Americas.
The Indians’ tribulations persisted through the centuries. The guerrilla uprising that has taken scores of lives in Chiapas was an echo of the Tzeltal revolt in 1712 and the Tzotzil rebellion in 1868, both of them bloody and fruitless. Little changed after the Revolution of 1910; land distribution and agrarian reforms were left to the big landholders.
According to Mexico’s National Population Council, today Chiapas is the poorest state in Mexico. 94 of its 111 municipalities live on the poverty line. In Ocosingo, Altamirano and Las Margaritas --- the towns where the Zapatista Army of National Liberation burst into prominence on New Year’s Day of 1994 --- 48 % of the adults are illiterate. Eighty percent of the families earn less than $245 a month. Seventy percent have no electricity.
The uprising has been centuries in the making. The historical and social forces behind the insurrection are clear. Poverty aside, Chiapas is fertile ground for conflict. The state has a history of guerrillas from across the border in Guatemala, drug traffickers, immigrants from Central America and newcomers from other parts of Mexico. There are struggles between peasants and Indians over land ownership, and conflicts between Catholics and Protestant evangelists over religion.
In the midst of all this are timber and oil resources that are all too vulnerable to exploitation. Despite official decrees of protection , the great Lacandon forest in the state of Chiapas has been shorn – to make room for highways, farms, oil drilling, resettlement, even airstrips for drug traffickers --- to the bare minimum necessary to keep its ecosystems from collapsing. Since 1982 its trees have been cut down at the rate of 3.5 percent a year; in 1990 just 30 percent of the original 5,000 square miles remained. What once took 50 years to destroy can now be destroyed in a year. Moreover, the rhythm of destruction has accelerated since the conflict began in 1994.
And with the disappearance of the forest, the Indian populations have been despoiled; losing their traditions, they have become pariahs on their own land. After two years of harvesting corn, beans and chilies, the peasants turn the fields into grazing land and go to work for the ranchers. A few may prosper, but the rest move on to slash and burn other parts of the forest. There were 12,000 people in the Lacandon in 12,000; now there are more than 300,000. Not only did the Zapatistas take towns, but they also tried to seal off the forest, where they are now taking refuge. The threat of war has been hanging over the forest ever since.
It is obvious that Mexico cannot permit the dismemberment of its territory or allow the violence of guerrillas and drug traffickers to establish a foothold. While the government has managed to keep the region under control and prevent revolt from spreading, the real possibility of excesses and useless bloodshed has always been present. Peasants and innocent Indian groups can easily become the victims of reprisals; the pacification of Chiapas must not be used as an excuse for backsliding on human rights.
The solution lies in negotiation. Meeting violence with violence can only lead to still more violence. Mexico cannot hope to enter the 21st century as a full-fledged democracy without social peace. As the government joins its partners in North and Latin America, and Europe, in free trade, it must also look toward its indigenous population. Some Latin American writers have argued for integrating Indian peoples into national society, even though that may mean the loss of their distinctive and ancestral cultural identity. I do not agree. Mexico must attend to the needs of first-world development, but it must also heed the call of the forest.
The modern history of Mexico’s Indians is the history of the destruction of their culture. In the armed conquest, and in what has been called the spiritual conquest, the Indians were dominated not only materially but also in terms of religion. The Zapatistas have always spoken in the name of justice for all of Mexico’s Indians, even though the present conflict has been confined to Chiapas. Continuing nationwide sympathy to the cause of indigenous rights is a measure of the Zapatistas’ success in calling attention to the Indians’ plight.
Nevertheless, ever since the Zapatista army arose in Chiapas to fight for the human rights of the indigenous peoples of Mexico, the general living conditions of the nation’s natives have worsened. They are the victims of their own demographic explosion, the pauperization of the countryside and the devastation of their environment. The native peoples are realizing they cannot earn a living in their home states; and many are being forced to migrate. And since many towns and cities are as poor as the rural areas that surround them, all roads lead to Mexico City, where the major thoroughfares are swarming with mendicants and street vendors plying their informal commerce.
The Mazahuas from the state of Mexico; the Nahuas of Guerrero; the Otomis of Hidalgo, Queretero and Puebla; the Purepechas of Michoacan; the Zapotecs and Mixtecs of Oaxaca; the Totonacs of Veracruz, and the Triques of the Highlands and Lowlands — all are setting up shop on the streets. Day after day, you can see women and children, sitting or standing, outside of hotels, restaurants and nightclubs, or loitering in avenues, traffic circles, markets, bus terminals. It is a common sight to see young children, who have just learned to walk, amid the traffic. Their mothers, wearing traditional garb, sell chewing gum or beg for spare change.
A census taken in 1990 counted some 500,000 indigenous people in Mexico City, about 3% of the city’s population. According to the National Indigenous Institute, almost half of them speak an Indian language as their mother tongue, representing 4% of the twelve and a half million indigenous people nationwide whose maternal tongue is not Spanish. The Indians who come to the capital tend to be young couples with many children.
More conflict is in the making if we do not attend to the demands and problems of these marginalized people who find their way to Mexico City in order to survive. The ancestral poverty of indigenous peoples has been perpetuated by inefficiency and corruption in state governments which are often feudal in nature. Legions of bumbling bureaucrats and decades of failed economic and social programs have prolonged their poverty.
Within the past two months, in the wake of the massacre of 45 Indians slain a few days before Christmas in the Chiapas village of Acteal by pro-government paramilitary gunmen, the federal government has renewed its efforts to jumpstart the peace talks with the Zapatista guerrillas which have been stalled since peace agreements were signed in the highland village of San Andres Larrainzar in 1996. While federal government spending on social programs in the state has increased, the threat to indigenous cultures in the region is growing again.
Tensions in Chiapas are escalating and the government is toughening its stance. After several hundred European observers visited the region, and a television reporter descended by helicopter on a Zapatista stronghold to film foreigners alleged to be working with the rebels, the government has clamped down on foreigners in the area. Recent expulsions have included a French priest with 30 years’ residence in the area; over the past few years more than 200 foreigners suspected of sympathizing with the Zapatistas have been expelled. The president of the Association of Foreign Correspondents has complained of new regulations which would monitor and control the movements of foreign journalists in Chiapas.
Earlier this month, President Ernesto Zedillo sent a bill for constitutional reforms to Congress which is aimed at giving legal recognition to indigenous rights and cultures throughout Mexico.
One crucial point of the presidential bill features acknowledgement of the autonomy of indigenous peoples to practice their traditional modes of government, as well as their own forms of social, economic, political and cultural organization, as long as this takes place within the framework of existing municipal governments. The proposed reforms would also guarantee bilingual public education and the preservation of indigenous languages and customs. Federal spokesmen claim that the reforms would not only go beyond current Mexican legislation but also surpass existing international law in broadening the rights of indigenous peoples.
Some members of congress have expressed fears that should the initiative fail --- and this is a real possibility, if the Zapatista Army of National Liberation refuses to discuss and ultimately accept the proposed reforms -- war may break out. The Zapatistas are accusing the government of going back on its pledges to grant Indians greater autonomy.
One thing is certain: Armed conflict cannot resolve the cultural problems of Mexico´s indigenous peoples. Such conflict would polarize indigenous groups and turn them against each other, worsening their situation and posing serious threats to the survival of their cultural identity. The future of Mexico, a country with deep roots in its indigenous civilizations, depends on our ability to fully acknowledge our cultural past while responding to the present needs of all Mexicans, including the Tarahamuras, the Lacandones, the Yaquis, the Nahuas, the Purepechas, the Zapotecs, the Tzeltales, the Mazahuas and dozens of other ethnic groups. However, we have a special obligation to our indigenous peoples to make up for the centuries of injustice they have suffered, and we cannot put off this debt any longer.
Homero Aridjis