Being in Oventic is somewhat hard to explain. It is, as an understatement, unique. For example:
I am sitting with two local fifteen year old students, on a bench in a small wooden building, simply made and yet brightly decorated, with a mural on the outside and every sort of Zapatista and international peace solidarity poster on the inside, interviewing two men wearing ski masks about the history of Oventic. Having a serious conversation with two masked men is somewhat odd. The two men were representatives of the Commission for Explanation, and dutifully explained the history of the EZLN, including the caracoles.
The caracoles are five autonomous Zapatista community centers in rural areas of Chiapas, and provide the local communities with education, healthcare, a bodega for surplus goods for the communities, and various levels of coordination for cooperatives of people who sell artisanry and coffee. The caracoles (“snails”) were “born” on August ninth, 2003. I say “born” because there were already Zapatista centers there, but they were known as Aguascalientes. The first Aguascalientes was created in 1995, and was destroyed by the Mexican military shortly thereafter. In response, the Zapatistas built five more, and one of these five was Oventic. When the Zapatistas realized that the government would never live up to the promises of the accords they signed, they decided to build their own governments, called the Juntas Del Buen Gobierno, and alter the functions of the Aguascalientes to suit these needs.
The development here has been steady. Few could help not be amazed at what they have been able to do with this little bit of land, all donated by local people. In an area where most people live off of less than one dollar a day (a reality hard to imagine for many of us), they have constructed their own community center all from donated labor, as a part of the idea of cargo, wherein every community member has a mandate to engage in a public service. Hundreds of community members turned out and worked tirelessly to clear the land and build the center. With thirty or so buildings, a basketball court, an auditorium, a café, restaurant, clinic, two ambulances, and everything else, they have constructed their own reality, a way of giving the finger to the government, and say “fine, if our government won’t be for us, we will leave you, and we are too proud to beg for your table scraps.” To emphasize and give voice to their sentiments, there are revolutionary sayings emblazoned across many of the buildings, such as “Here, the people command and the government obeys,” and “A world where many worlds fit.”
Everywhere, on every building, are murals, and it is hard to ignore their effect on the mood. Everything seems so bright, and optimistic. And then, during Spanish class, there is a subtle reminder from one of the “promoters” (they choose not to call them teachers) during a history of military involvement in Chiapas, that the paramilitaries have never gone away, and there is the threat every day of incursion, however remote. According to one of the NGO activists we talked to, there was paramilitary activity two weeks ago in the northern part of the state, three wounded, one killed, one kidnapped.
For these reasons, and many others, things seem so real as to be surreal. That, and tonight as we walked through the center after dinner, we looked up and saw a half-full moon with an aura surrounding it twenty times its size, and the three of us agreed that we had never seen anything quite like it.
Monday, October 29, 2007
San Cristobal 2
I woke up yesterday morning and started checking up on the news. One of my favorite pages for this is Narconews (www.narconews.com), which started out as a news site monitoring the drug wars in Latin America, but have since grown to include everything from US meddling in elections to the Zapatista movement. On their Otro Periodismo page, there was a story about a well known local activist, Damaso Villanueva, who it appears was arrested on Friday morning.
Villanueva set up an information booth about the Zapatistas in front of the church in the main square (the same church that local elites protested because of Priest Samuel Ruiz’s support for the Zaps) in 1995, and for eleven years has been selling magazines, posters, and CDs about the EZLN, as well as dispensing free information to passersby. On Friday morning, as he was setting up his booth, and the soldiers were conducting their military procedures across the street, three police officers grabbed Damaso and threw him into the back of a squad car.
The charges, which had to be wrested out of the police by local activists, assert that Damaso had something to do with toppling a cell phone tower two years ago. Apparently this is somewhat common in certain neighborhoods around here (maybe having something to do with people not wanting their kids to get cancer).
I asked Tom about the arrest, and he explained that it is common procedure in México for the police to issue an arrest warrant, and then not exercise it, so they can hang something over the heads of political types in order to keep them in line. Damaso, for instance, had his issued two years ago, and has been in public every day since then, but it wasn’t until the other campaign had begun to heat up that the police decided to move.
Damaso is not alone, of course. Activists and supporters of la otra across the country have been arrested or harassed by the police for their support. Some of them have been freed by means of mass protests in front of the jails, but Damaso hasn’t been so lucky.
I asked Tom why he didn’t tell the group, and organize some sort of field trip to the jail to protest.
“Because that’s how I got expelled from the country.”
Point taken.
Villanueva set up an information booth about the Zapatistas in front of the church in the main square (the same church that local elites protested because of Priest Samuel Ruiz’s support for the Zaps) in 1995, and for eleven years has been selling magazines, posters, and CDs about the EZLN, as well as dispensing free information to passersby. On Friday morning, as he was setting up his booth, and the soldiers were conducting their military procedures across the street, three police officers grabbed Damaso and threw him into the back of a squad car.
The charges, which had to be wrested out of the police by local activists, assert that Damaso had something to do with toppling a cell phone tower two years ago. Apparently this is somewhat common in certain neighborhoods around here (maybe having something to do with people not wanting their kids to get cancer).
I asked Tom about the arrest, and he explained that it is common procedure in México for the police to issue an arrest warrant, and then not exercise it, so they can hang something over the heads of political types in order to keep them in line. Damaso, for instance, had his issued two years ago, and has been in public every day since then, but it wasn’t until the other campaign had begun to heat up that the police decided to move.
Damaso is not alone, of course. Activists and supporters of la otra across the country have been arrested or harassed by the police for their support. Some of them have been freed by means of mass protests in front of the jails, but Damaso hasn’t been so lucky.
I asked Tom why he didn’t tell the group, and organize some sort of field trip to the jail to protest.
“Because that’s how I got expelled from the country.”
Point taken.
San Cristobal
So, a funny little story about politics in Mexico.
My friend Danielle and I are doing a project about local politics in San Cristobal, exploring the reasons why a town so central in the Zapatista uprising is still so conservative, and hardline PRIista. But enough about that. One of the interviews that we wanted to do was with a representative of the PRD, the leftist party that I have referenced before.
When we went to try and see a spokesman at noon, they told us no one comes in before five or six. Alright. So we went back at 7:30, and sure enough, the office was full of people. The people at the front were very nice, and promised us an interview very soon. So we sat down, and starting shooting the breeze with Misael, a young volunteer who was manning the front desk. Seeing as he had nothing to do, and we were just waiting, we started a long conversation (at least half an hour) about how he was an architecture student, and wanted to visit the US once he learned English, and was Presbyterian, etc.
So we asked him what he liked about Lopez Obrador, or AMLO as he is known.
“Yeah, I like him. He’s changing politics, you know? He’s trying to end corruption, and all of the scandals, and that’s good. I’m actually a PRIista, but don’t tell anyone. But he used to be from the PRI, and now he’s with the PRD because of all the corruption, and so I volunteer when I can.”
So we talked a bit more about AMLO, and the plot by the ruling parties to have him thrown in jail so he couldn’t run for office, and meanwhile we kept looking at these CDs that they had on the desk with AMLO’s picture on it.
“Are those DVD’s?”
“No, those are CD’s.”
“Of music?”
“Yeah, songs that are in support of AMLO.”
“Really? Do they cost anything?”
“Ummm, yeah, treinta pesos (three dollars).”
Thinking this would be a great opportunity to learn more about local politics, and probably worth a laugh, Danielle and I decided to split the cost. All I had was a fifty, and so I asked him if he had change.
“Uhhhh, I only have fifteen pesos in change.”
“Well, that’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
And with that, Misael took the fifty, folded it up, looked quickly at the door separating the reception area and the office where everyone else was, and put the fifty in his pocket. He then looked at us, smiling, and made the universal “shhhhh” sign.
Aaaaahhhhh, México. It’s great to see that your politics are finally on the mend.
My friend Danielle and I are doing a project about local politics in San Cristobal, exploring the reasons why a town so central in the Zapatista uprising is still so conservative, and hardline PRIista. But enough about that. One of the interviews that we wanted to do was with a representative of the PRD, the leftist party that I have referenced before.
When we went to try and see a spokesman at noon, they told us no one comes in before five or six. Alright. So we went back at 7:30, and sure enough, the office was full of people. The people at the front were very nice, and promised us an interview very soon. So we sat down, and starting shooting the breeze with Misael, a young volunteer who was manning the front desk. Seeing as he had nothing to do, and we were just waiting, we started a long conversation (at least half an hour) about how he was an architecture student, and wanted to visit the US once he learned English, and was Presbyterian, etc.
So we asked him what he liked about Lopez Obrador, or AMLO as he is known.
“Yeah, I like him. He’s changing politics, you know? He’s trying to end corruption, and all of the scandals, and that’s good. I’m actually a PRIista, but don’t tell anyone. But he used to be from the PRI, and now he’s with the PRD because of all the corruption, and so I volunteer when I can.”
So we talked a bit more about AMLO, and the plot by the ruling parties to have him thrown in jail so he couldn’t run for office, and meanwhile we kept looking at these CDs that they had on the desk with AMLO’s picture on it.
“Are those DVD’s?”
“No, those are CD’s.”
“Of music?”
“Yeah, songs that are in support of AMLO.”
“Really? Do they cost anything?”
“Ummm, yeah, treinta pesos (three dollars).”
Thinking this would be a great opportunity to learn more about local politics, and probably worth a laugh, Danielle and I decided to split the cost. All I had was a fifty, and so I asked him if he had change.
“Uhhhh, I only have fifteen pesos in change.”
“Well, that’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
And with that, Misael took the fifty, folded it up, looked quickly at the door separating the reception area and the office where everyone else was, and put the fifty in his pocket. He then looked at us, smiling, and made the universal “shhhhh” sign.
Aaaaahhhhh, México. It’s great to see that your politics are finally on the mend.
Chiapas 2.
Time seems to have started flying by. After the first week, which seemed to take a month, there has been a steady telescoping of the days. Part of this is that all of us have had quite a fair amount of “down time” due to bouts of turista, which has hit most of the group of seventeen twice by now. The other part is the workload.
There are ten hours of Spanish class and five hours of academic class a week, plus at least one workshop, which involves having a discussion with some sort of local activist, such as the doctor who started the school (the one who listens to classical music) or a member of a group that enables indigenous communities to film and edit documentaries about their own lives. These are usually some of the most enriching experiences, as we are talking to people who in general are doing what we want to with our lives.
Other than that, it is reading all the time. Most of the study so far revolves around the competing theories of social arrangement, varying from neoliberal capitalism, to anarchism, Marxism, indigenism, nationalism, and so on. Of course, with the setting that we are in, many of these themes are related back to the Zapatistas. We seem to be surrounded by an atmosphere of Zapatismo. San Cris itself is full of reminders, but the school here is moreso. On the walls are posters from the Sixth Declaration (the sixth major communiqué by the zaps) and other Zapatista themes, and many of the students, too, wear t-shirts proclaiming their allegiance to La Otra Campana.
The other campaign, as it is in English, is a national tour undertaken by Subcomandante Marcos to discuss all of the issues not brought to the table by the presidential campaign currently underway in México. The three political parties in México, even that of “leftist” Andre Manuel Lopez Obrador, are quite similar to the two parties in the US, in that they promise different things to different voting blocs, but none offer real change to a deeply troubled country. Hence La Otra, as it is known here. Although Marcos has recently clarified that he is not trying to dissuade anyone from voting, he does lambaste all of the political parties on a regular basis. Troubling many of the nation’s leftists is the fact that he seems to reserve some of his harshest criticisms for Lopez Obrador, the populist former mayor of México City. To many Mexicans, he represents a real change to a political system not used to much change, including starting what amounts to a Social Security program. To the Zapatistas, he represents a party, the left-leaning PRD, which has repeatedly acted in cooperation with the efforts of the establishment parties to stifle all of the efforts of the Zapatistas. But it is not strictly personal. He is also financed by Carlos Slim, one of the richest men in the country, and has basically admitted that he will abide by the guidelines of the neoliberal program.
Anyway, we watch all of these events from our little leftist sanctuary tucked away in the woods outside of town, the same town where Marcos launched La Otra back in January. While we are all trying to be serious students of political economy and capitalist hegemony (sorry, I just had to throw out some of those class terms), we all find ourselves being taken away at times by the romantic myth that Marcos has swaddled himself in. We found out, for instance, that the two dormitory rooms that all seventeen of us stay in sandwich a third room that is always empty and locked, and that that third room happens to be the room where Marcos stayed when he was in town. This, of course, set us all abuzz, trying to peek in the windows, and asking Freddy, a nineteen year-old basically in charge of keeping an eye on things, what it was like when La Otra was here.
Of course, being the group of politicalcorrectophiles that we are, with our classic leftist cynicism, none of this is done without full recognition of the irony involved. A bunch of American kids coming down to Chiapas, studying an indigenous movement, and swooning over the image (since it is an image more than a face) of their shadowy masked leader, who happens to not even be indigenous. Are we interested in the struggle, or just attracted by its romantic aspects? Are we all ready to apply our new knowledge of the way of the world to serious activism, as we all dutifully swore in our application papers, or is it just a nice semester abroad that provides more interesting stories than most? Is it a jump-off point, or nothing more than a coming of age ritual for people who fancy themselves some sort of revolutionaries, a couple of months in a developing country.
These are the bitter, cynical ways of looking at it, and almost all of us are unable to keep these thoughts out of our heads. But we try to combat it with one pieces that we picked up from one of our first readings, a piece by John Holloway. In it, he talks about how the Zapatistas have chosen to ignore the bitterness of history, and opted instead to confront the fear of ridicule, and so we see their communiqués so full of humility and optimism, and, for a lack of a better term, cheesiness. For really that’s what the bitterness of history has left us with, is an overwhelming sense of how cheesy anything done in earnest seems these days. And so it is with the group, all of us trying to overcome our own fear of ridicule, and believe that there might be something to the saying “We are all Zapatistas.”
If anything, two more weeks in San Cristobal and a month in a Zapatista community should be able to answer these questions.
There are ten hours of Spanish class and five hours of academic class a week, plus at least one workshop, which involves having a discussion with some sort of local activist, such as the doctor who started the school (the one who listens to classical music) or a member of a group that enables indigenous communities to film and edit documentaries about their own lives. These are usually some of the most enriching experiences, as we are talking to people who in general are doing what we want to with our lives.
Other than that, it is reading all the time. Most of the study so far revolves around the competing theories of social arrangement, varying from neoliberal capitalism, to anarchism, Marxism, indigenism, nationalism, and so on. Of course, with the setting that we are in, many of these themes are related back to the Zapatistas. We seem to be surrounded by an atmosphere of Zapatismo. San Cris itself is full of reminders, but the school here is moreso. On the walls are posters from the Sixth Declaration (the sixth major communiqué by the zaps) and other Zapatista themes, and many of the students, too, wear t-shirts proclaiming their allegiance to La Otra Campana.
The other campaign, as it is in English, is a national tour undertaken by Subcomandante Marcos to discuss all of the issues not brought to the table by the presidential campaign currently underway in México. The three political parties in México, even that of “leftist” Andre Manuel Lopez Obrador, are quite similar to the two parties in the US, in that they promise different things to different voting blocs, but none offer real change to a deeply troubled country. Hence La Otra, as it is known here. Although Marcos has recently clarified that he is not trying to dissuade anyone from voting, he does lambaste all of the political parties on a regular basis. Troubling many of the nation’s leftists is the fact that he seems to reserve some of his harshest criticisms for Lopez Obrador, the populist former mayor of México City. To many Mexicans, he represents a real change to a political system not used to much change, including starting what amounts to a Social Security program. To the Zapatistas, he represents a party, the left-leaning PRD, which has repeatedly acted in cooperation with the efforts of the establishment parties to stifle all of the efforts of the Zapatistas. But it is not strictly personal. He is also financed by Carlos Slim, one of the richest men in the country, and has basically admitted that he will abide by the guidelines of the neoliberal program.
Anyway, we watch all of these events from our little leftist sanctuary tucked away in the woods outside of town, the same town where Marcos launched La Otra back in January. While we are all trying to be serious students of political economy and capitalist hegemony (sorry, I just had to throw out some of those class terms), we all find ourselves being taken away at times by the romantic myth that Marcos has swaddled himself in. We found out, for instance, that the two dormitory rooms that all seventeen of us stay in sandwich a third room that is always empty and locked, and that that third room happens to be the room where Marcos stayed when he was in town. This, of course, set us all abuzz, trying to peek in the windows, and asking Freddy, a nineteen year-old basically in charge of keeping an eye on things, what it was like when La Otra was here.
Of course, being the group of politicalcorrectophiles that we are, with our classic leftist cynicism, none of this is done without full recognition of the irony involved. A bunch of American kids coming down to Chiapas, studying an indigenous movement, and swooning over the image (since it is an image more than a face) of their shadowy masked leader, who happens to not even be indigenous. Are we interested in the struggle, or just attracted by its romantic aspects? Are we all ready to apply our new knowledge of the way of the world to serious activism, as we all dutifully swore in our application papers, or is it just a nice semester abroad that provides more interesting stories than most? Is it a jump-off point, or nothing more than a coming of age ritual for people who fancy themselves some sort of revolutionaries, a couple of months in a developing country.
These are the bitter, cynical ways of looking at it, and almost all of us are unable to keep these thoughts out of our heads. But we try to combat it with one pieces that we picked up from one of our first readings, a piece by John Holloway. In it, he talks about how the Zapatistas have chosen to ignore the bitterness of history, and opted instead to confront the fear of ridicule, and so we see their communiqués so full of humility and optimism, and, for a lack of a better term, cheesiness. For really that’s what the bitterness of history has left us with, is an overwhelming sense of how cheesy anything done in earnest seems these days. And so it is with the group, all of us trying to overcome our own fear of ridicule, and believe that there might be something to the saying “We are all Zapatistas.”
If anything, two more weeks in San Cristobal and a month in a Zapatista community should be able to answer these questions.
Chiapas
After a week in the program, school seems to be going well. The students and teachers have gotten to know each other, and we have all gotten sick together, and from this point we now seem ready to fully engage ourselves in the task at hand. The program itself is an ambitious one, and probably unmatched in terms of accredited collegiate study abroad programs.
The idea is to take a group of American students, who preferably have an interest in grassroots organizing, and introduce them to the world of organizing in México, so that they may be better served in their work when they get home. On top of this, the students receive a solid base in theory (of the economic and political sense) while having the opportunity to learn these things from lifetime activists in the field.
Tom, the director and lead professor, has pretty amazing credentials to teach the class. Currently working on his PhD at one of México’s most well-known public universities, Tom has been active in México, and particularly Chiapas since the eighties. It is not uncommon to have a conversation with Tom and have him casually mention that he has had several personal one-on-one conversations with Fidel in his Presidential office.
It did surprise us, however, to learn that our easy-going smile-prone Spanish teacher (who happens to be Tom’s wife) was one of the founding members of the EZLN (the military wing and predecessor to the Zapatistas) and still has many of the Zapatista bank accounts in her name.
The way that we found this out, of course, is that she just had her banks accounts closed by the second bank in a short time. Both banks have closed these accounts, knowing of the political aspect of them, without any explanation. In response, she and a group of Zapatista sympathizers have been forced to go to México City to have press conferences to draw attention to the actions of these banks. After all, there are only six national banks in México, and at this rate there won’t be anywhere for the Zaps to put their money very soon.
The students have become accustomed to this constant realization that the people we are meeting and working with are very serious accomplished people, living in a country where the rule of law is really more of a suggestion than a rule. We watched a movie where we found out our teacher had been convicted of being a Zapatista in 1995 (when the relationship between the government and the EZLN was very tense), before having the conviction thrown out because the confession had been forced out by torture. Or, on a lighter note, having of the students ask, in the middle of class, if we could ask the guy in the next room turn down his music, only to have our teacher explain that the reason he listens to it so loud is so that the government can’t hear his conversations when he has company.
The person in question, Raymundo, is the founder of the Universidad de la Tierra, where we are living and having class for the first month of the program. Located on the outskirts of San Cristobal de las Casas, the school serves indigenous youth (13-22, roughly), giving them political and historical education (of the rather leftist sort) but focusing more on vocational training of the student’s choice. Since the school is viewed as more of a social work than a normal school, there is an ethic of preservation and sacrifice abundant on campus. Almost everything on campus is built by the students, using techniques that minimize cost and waste. Much of the food is provided by students studying farming and animal husbandry, and even the waste produced by the animals is carefully converted into fertilizer for the agriculture program.
Of course, to make the school affordable, and because funding for such a school is not easy, the accommodations are a little rustic. Most students are slowly getting used to no hot water or heating, slightly “firmer” beds, and so on, leading to widespread feelings of pamperedness/homesickness.
Warming the atmosphere are the quaint little effects, such as the bleating of the sheep and goats who graze freely on campus, or the picture of the virgin of Guadalupe in the dining hall that has her face covered by a red bandana.
UniTierra is one of several places that you find open support for the Zaps around San Cristobal. Throughout town you can see pictures, T-shirts, graffiti, and so on, although the vast majority of it seems to exist solely because the tourists are so eager to buy it up. Even this, though, belies a tension in the town. In general, San Cris is a conservative town, and it is safe to say there is a large portion who do not support them or any of their counterparts. In fact, one of the most famouns churches in San Cris was nearly burned down by a large mob upset by the church’s support of the EZLN. These people, ostensibly, were angry that the Zapatistas had brought warfare into their town. Of course, from the EZLN’s point of view, they were only bringing to town the war they had been fighting for 500 years. But who knows.
Hopefully I will be able to illustrate these issues a little better in the coming weeks, as we learn more and more about the Zapatistas, and prepare for our month of living with them in one of their autonomous communities. I’ll keep you posted.
The idea is to take a group of American students, who preferably have an interest in grassroots organizing, and introduce them to the world of organizing in México, so that they may be better served in their work when they get home. On top of this, the students receive a solid base in theory (of the economic and political sense) while having the opportunity to learn these things from lifetime activists in the field.
Tom, the director and lead professor, has pretty amazing credentials to teach the class. Currently working on his PhD at one of México’s most well-known public universities, Tom has been active in México, and particularly Chiapas since the eighties. It is not uncommon to have a conversation with Tom and have him casually mention that he has had several personal one-on-one conversations with Fidel in his Presidential office.
It did surprise us, however, to learn that our easy-going smile-prone Spanish teacher (who happens to be Tom’s wife) was one of the founding members of the EZLN (the military wing and predecessor to the Zapatistas) and still has many of the Zapatista bank accounts in her name.
The way that we found this out, of course, is that she just had her banks accounts closed by the second bank in a short time. Both banks have closed these accounts, knowing of the political aspect of them, without any explanation. In response, she and a group of Zapatista sympathizers have been forced to go to México City to have press conferences to draw attention to the actions of these banks. After all, there are only six national banks in México, and at this rate there won’t be anywhere for the Zaps to put their money very soon.
The students have become accustomed to this constant realization that the people we are meeting and working with are very serious accomplished people, living in a country where the rule of law is really more of a suggestion than a rule. We watched a movie where we found out our teacher had been convicted of being a Zapatista in 1995 (when the relationship between the government and the EZLN was very tense), before having the conviction thrown out because the confession had been forced out by torture. Or, on a lighter note, having of the students ask, in the middle of class, if we could ask the guy in the next room turn down his music, only to have our teacher explain that the reason he listens to it so loud is so that the government can’t hear his conversations when he has company.
The person in question, Raymundo, is the founder of the Universidad de la Tierra, where we are living and having class for the first month of the program. Located on the outskirts of San Cristobal de las Casas, the school serves indigenous youth (13-22, roughly), giving them political and historical education (of the rather leftist sort) but focusing more on vocational training of the student’s choice. Since the school is viewed as more of a social work than a normal school, there is an ethic of preservation and sacrifice abundant on campus. Almost everything on campus is built by the students, using techniques that minimize cost and waste. Much of the food is provided by students studying farming and animal husbandry, and even the waste produced by the animals is carefully converted into fertilizer for the agriculture program.
Of course, to make the school affordable, and because funding for such a school is not easy, the accommodations are a little rustic. Most students are slowly getting used to no hot water or heating, slightly “firmer” beds, and so on, leading to widespread feelings of pamperedness/homesickness.
Warming the atmosphere are the quaint little effects, such as the bleating of the sheep and goats who graze freely on campus, or the picture of the virgin of Guadalupe in the dining hall that has her face covered by a red bandana.
UniTierra is one of several places that you find open support for the Zaps around San Cristobal. Throughout town you can see pictures, T-shirts, graffiti, and so on, although the vast majority of it seems to exist solely because the tourists are so eager to buy it up. Even this, though, belies a tension in the town. In general, San Cris is a conservative town, and it is safe to say there is a large portion who do not support them or any of their counterparts. In fact, one of the most famouns churches in San Cris was nearly burned down by a large mob upset by the church’s support of the EZLN. These people, ostensibly, were angry that the Zapatistas had brought warfare into their town. Of course, from the EZLN’s point of view, they were only bringing to town the war they had been fighting for 500 years. But who knows.
Hopefully I will be able to illustrate these issues a little better in the coming weeks, as we learn more and more about the Zapatistas, and prepare for our month of living with them in one of their autonomous communities. I’ll keep you posted.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Hugo Chávez exploits oil wealth to push IMF aside - International Herald Tribune
Sometimes it takes, of all things, an International Herald Tribune article to really put things in perspective. For instance, even for those who follow the news of Venezuela regularly, with the passage of time we can start to simplify, in our own minds, the reasons for the hatred by the corporatocracy of the United States for Hugo Chavez.
We could, for instance, dwell on the moment that no news outlet will let us forget: When Chavez called Bush the devil at the UN. We could give undue attention to his penchant for yankee-provoking alliances, with countries like Iran and Cuba.
But the IHT reminded us today of the real reasons for this hatred:
"President Hugo Chávez of Venezuela is using his country's oil wealth to squeeze the International Monetary Fund out of Latin America, the region that once accounted for most of its business."
The story outlines what many of us have known, but refreshes for us the sheer magnitude of it. Chavez has loaned $4.5 billion to neighboring countries, while the IMF loans in the region- a region that used to account for 80% of all IMF loans- have shrunk to an unthinkable $50 million. Of course, what this means is that these countries are no longer subservient to the corporate dominions of the IMF. Chavez imposes no Structural Adjustment Programs that limit the minimum wage and spending on education and health care, Chavez does not force them into engineering projects with the largest of US firms, and he certainly doesn't make them extol the virtues of free trade as they spiral into a life of indentured servitude.
To be fair, Chavez isn't giving the money away, either. He makes them pay the same money at near comparable interest rates, but for once these countries can start to make decisions for the good of their own people. Accordingly, however, this signals one of the final descents of the power of US corporations in the region. This is not to say that they do not still dominate the economies of nearly ivery Latin Amwerican country, but simply that in these countries they no longer possess the militray or economic bludgeoning power that enjoyed in the past, which ensured for them the fulfillment of their desires in the region. In short, they now have to play fair.
Meanwhile, the story out of Argentina today is that Kirchner is lauding his economic recovery (partially helped by Chavez) while defending his relationship with... Hugo Chavez. In that defense he says "Nobody here is subordinated to anybody," which is either a testament to the incredibly short memories of Argentines (to suggest that Venezuelan influence would ever compare to the Chicago Boys free trade influence) or a testament to how much the Pro-US oligarchy still impacts public opinion in the country.
And, of course, the last story of interest: Castro may be returning to work soon. With the IHT spouting such illuminating treason, I'm sure the US thinks it couldn't come a day too soon.
Hugo Chávez exploits oil wealth to push IMF aside - International Herald Tribune
Kirchner Lauds Economic Recovery - Forbes.com
VietNamNet - FM: Fidel Castro could return to work soon
We could, for instance, dwell on the moment that no news outlet will let us forget: When Chavez called Bush the devil at the UN. We could give undue attention to his penchant for yankee-provoking alliances, with countries like Iran and Cuba.
But the IHT reminded us today of the real reasons for this hatred:
"President Hugo Chávez of Venezuela is using his country's oil wealth to squeeze the International Monetary Fund out of Latin America, the region that once accounted for most of its business."
The story outlines what many of us have known, but refreshes for us the sheer magnitude of it. Chavez has loaned $4.5 billion to neighboring countries, while the IMF loans in the region- a region that used to account for 80% of all IMF loans- have shrunk to an unthinkable $50 million. Of course, what this means is that these countries are no longer subservient to the corporate dominions of the IMF. Chavez imposes no Structural Adjustment Programs that limit the minimum wage and spending on education and health care, Chavez does not force them into engineering projects with the largest of US firms, and he certainly doesn't make them extol the virtues of free trade as they spiral into a life of indentured servitude.
To be fair, Chavez isn't giving the money away, either. He makes them pay the same money at near comparable interest rates, but for once these countries can start to make decisions for the good of their own people. Accordingly, however, this signals one of the final descents of the power of US corporations in the region. This is not to say that they do not still dominate the economies of nearly ivery Latin Amwerican country, but simply that in these countries they no longer possess the militray or economic bludgeoning power that enjoyed in the past, which ensured for them the fulfillment of their desires in the region. In short, they now have to play fair.
Meanwhile, the story out of Argentina today is that Kirchner is lauding his economic recovery (partially helped by Chavez) while defending his relationship with... Hugo Chavez. In that defense he says "Nobody here is subordinated to anybody," which is either a testament to the incredibly short memories of Argentines (to suggest that Venezuelan influence would ever compare to the Chicago Boys free trade influence) or a testament to how much the Pro-US oligarchy still impacts public opinion in the country.
And, of course, the last story of interest: Castro may be returning to work soon. With the IHT spouting such illuminating treason, I'm sure the US thinks it couldn't come a day too soon.
Hugo Chávez exploits oil wealth to push IMF aside - International Herald Tribune
Kirchner Lauds Economic Recovery - Forbes.com
VietNamNet - FM: Fidel Castro could return to work soon
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
on blogging
i've decided to start another blog. i had one before, and it was canceled by the provider, so for now i'll be using google, and reposting all of my old blogs.
my provider before was civiblog, which was essentially a non-profit blog hoster. now i'm with google. i was intrigued when i read that their mission statement was "don't be evil," so i chose them to host my new blog. i have become a bigger fan of google as they have continued to release new products to the public for free, and have taken the lead in providing users with tools that customize the computer, and thus learning, and greatly increase the efficiency of the user's experience. for free.
of course, much of me still believes that they are a wolf in sheep's clothing. i would be interested to hear more from any readers about their thoughts. this, of course, assumes that anyone will ever read this.
one last thing: my aesthetic style is not meant to be an homage to either bell hooks or e e cummings, not that i dislike them. at the risk of a cheesy joke, i could say it is because i am ant-capitalist. in actuality, i simply find it easier to type this way, and as an aspiting linguist i find capital letters stuffy and pointless.
my provider before was civiblog, which was essentially a non-profit blog hoster. now i'm with google. i was intrigued when i read that their mission statement was "don't be evil," so i chose them to host my new blog. i have become a bigger fan of google as they have continued to release new products to the public for free, and have taken the lead in providing users with tools that customize the computer, and thus learning, and greatly increase the efficiency of the user's experience. for free.
of course, much of me still believes that they are a wolf in sheep's clothing. i would be interested to hear more from any readers about their thoughts. this, of course, assumes that anyone will ever read this.
one last thing: my aesthetic style is not meant to be an homage to either bell hooks or e e cummings, not that i dislike them. at the risk of a cheesy joke, i could say it is because i am ant-capitalist. in actuality, i simply find it easier to type this way, and as an aspiting linguist i find capital letters stuffy and pointless.
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