Civil Society That so Perturbs

I have been reading a book entitled, "Our Word is Our Weapon," which is a collection of communiques from the rebel Zapatista group in the mountains of Southeastern Mexico. They have taken up arms to, from their perspective, defend themselves against the neoliberal schemes which threaten to destroy their lives and communities.

This letter is, as usual, to all the people of the world. The letter is a response to the 11th anniversary of an earthquake in Mexico City and, apparently, the governmnet's inability to adequately respond.

This letter strikes me as both long and intense, but I thought that the situation in Mexico City is strikingly parallel to our own in New Orleans. I wonder to what extent our response to New Orleans is like the Zapatista response to Mexico City?

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Sep. 19, 1996

To Civil Society, the only force that can save the country
To the people of Mexico
To the people and governments of the world

Brothers and Sisters:
As of today, September 19, 1996, it's been eleven years since a new political and social force emerged as a result of the government's inability to confront the problems of the earthquake that shook the capital. This new force proved that it could respond to destruction with creativity, to chaos with organization, to death with life.

While the government vacillated between false promises and stealing humanitarian aid, Civil Society organized itself, by itself, to revive and rebuild a city that, amid all the pain, quickly reminded itself that it's nothing without its inhabitants.

Thousands of residents mobilized themselves with nothing more than communal feeling, a feeling that had supposedly been buried in the earthquake of neoliberal modernity. Amid the debris, destruction, and death, these Mexicans rescued self-discovery and dignity.

Eleven years ago thousands of Mexicans didn't invent their strength; they remembered it and put it to work. With the country beside them, they discovered that you can take a direct part in solving problems the government leaders ignore.

There are not historic monuments or government ceremonies for all these men and women who put forth heroic efforts from the unsung places. Without asking for praise or making conditions, they lived and died nameless and faceless.

The anonymous, faceless heroism that illuminated September 1985 was an answer to Power's men in gray, who plotted to sell dignity and forget history.

From the first spontaneous response to that catastrophe, the force that emerged eleven years ago followed its own path, and in many cases, turned itself into a civic organization. The self-discovery of September 1985 was all that was needed to nurture, cultivate, and organize this strength.

This civil force, which has been around for eleven years, organized itself little by little to become proof that you can participate without aspiring to public office, that you can organize politically without being in a political party, that you can keep and eye on the government and pressure it to "lead by obeying," that you can have an effect and remain yourself, give of yourself, be noble and honest and not be selfish. This is how these organizations came to be. They served the people in the city and were compensated with the satisfaction of having done their duty, and having received national and international recognition of their work.

Today, eleven years later, the political forces with the most moral authority, legitimacy, and efficacy aren't the political parties or the government. The community organizations in today's Mexico are the only credible forces.

This new strength, the Civil Society that so perturbs the government leaders, today gives us hope that it's possible to rebuild the country despite the destruction the neoliberal project has brought to the Mexican society.

Meanwhile, Power tramples all over itself, administers violence and death, militarizing Mexican life through a state takeover that, although slow, is still authoritarian.

Meanwhile, Power closes its ears, delivers monologues at pointless negotiating tables, and only gives pride and arrogance weight as important issues.

Meanwhile, those who hide behind Power continue to steal the liberty of dissidents and non-conformists and bestow the gift of impunity on the real criminals who, yesterday and today, have made and still make up the government.

Meanwhile, Power enriches itself, decrees death for our national history, and sentences millions of Mexicans to poverty through neoliberalism.

Meanwhile, those who shield themselves behind Power exclude the only ones who can grant them dignity and self-respect through dialogue and a role in history; they persecute and harass everyone who doesn't mouth the message of Power's law and death, and scoff at those who promote agreement through dialogue, instead of armed conflict.

Two national projects, two countries, two Mexicos confronting each other. On the one hand, there is their nation, their country, their Mexico. A plan for the nation that Power holds up with bloody hands, with law and legitimacy soiled by corruption and crime. A plan for the nation that means destruction, misery, and death, with war everywhere at every level, and the use of force as the sole rationale for Power's monologue before its mirror. Despotism is consecrated as the "rule of law," while sovereignty is squandered. That is the Mexico that belongs to Power, the Mexico that is in agony.

One the other hand, there is the nation of the community organizations, the country of Civil Society, the Mexico of the Mexicans--a plan for the nation bearing the banner of democracy, liberty, and justice. A plan for the nation that means its reconstruction, justice, and life, with peace everywhere for everyone, with dialogue as a way that makes its own way and from with springs hope, with reason and heart as its driving force, with its sovereignty stolen, but this time by the Mexican people. That is the Mexico of Civil Society, the Mexico that lives again.
Two countries struggling between themselves to find a place in the future.
One, belonging to Power, that uses force.
The other, Civil Society's, that uses reason and feeling.
One, belonging to Power, that looks for war.
The other, Civil Society's, that looks for peace.

Yesterday, we Zapatistas were criticized for wanting a dialogue with Civil Society, for addressing her in our initiatives. Today we are criticized because we don't seek the support of political organizations--armed and unarmed--but reiterate our belief in Civil Society. They tell us that's a poor bet. They tell us we'll lose. They sentence us to defeat. They tell us that you don't speak to or listen to Civil Society; rather, you command it.

The possibility of a new motherland appeared within the debris of a city that, until that moment, had always been seen as synonymous with egoism and inhumanity. Since then, this new motherland walks hand in hand with people like those of September 1985. People, men and women, children and elders. People with whatever names, that is to say, without famous names. City people and country peole. Workers and farmers, indigenous people and mestizos, teachers and students, housewives and tenant farmers, artists and intellectuals, religious and lay people, professionals and the unemployed, people like every one, but not just like any one.

Civil Society, this discomfiting concept and disturbing reality. The forgotten of always, expect at election time. The disposable, except when they are required to fulfill their obligations. The excluded, except at tax time. The disregarded, except at the hour of death.

Civil Society and its proposal for the nation, now not only an intuition but a possibility, is confronting Power and its destruction. While Power militarized its plan of hopelessness and civil war on Mexican soil, Civil Society insists on holding back war and turning back the militarization of the nation.

While Power delivers a monologue, Civil Society demands a national dialogue, viable and inclusive.

While Power jails its opponents and lets criminals go free, Civil Society questions Power's lack of accountability and the jailing of political prisoners.

While Power brutally imposes a murderous economic model, Civil Society demonstrates for a a new political economy.

While Power destroys, Civil Society builds. While Power wages war, Civil Society seeks peace.

While Power belittles mediation, laughs at legislators, and attacks honest intellectual leadership, Civil Society works to create a Commission of Concordance and Peace for the whole nation.

While power kills, Civil Society lives.

Political parties and organizations--armed and unarmed, legal and illegal, open or secret, regional or national--sooner or later will have to choose between these two plans for the nation.

The EZLN has already chosen.
Long live the Mexican motherland, the new one.

No longer a cardboard motherland of vain, ostentatious military parades that frighten nobody. No longer a motherland full of gray speeches from gray bureaucrats. No longer a motherland up for sale to anyone in the neoliberal marketplace. No longer the dead motherland you can find in books and museums.

May Power and its war die forever.
May the men and women of Civil Society live forever.

Democracy!
Liberty!
Justice!

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast
By the Clandestine Revolutionary Indigenous Committee General Command of the EZLN