Weaving Webs of Resistance in Chiapas
July 29, 2010
Members of Tsobol Antzetik (Women United), a cooperative of Mayan weavers working to support their families by selling their products in the U.S. for fair trade prices.
Photo by Rebecca Wiggins
By Crystal Massey and Rebecca Wiggins
In June of 2010, Sophia’s Circle/Las Cruces Chiapas Connection sent a delegation of four people to the highlands of Chiapas to visit weaving cooperatives. Over a period of two weeks, we listened to their concerns, shared in their laughter and learned about their goals. Following is an account of our visit.
The day was dawning bright and beautiful as 19-year-old Luz strapped on her tumpline, securing an eight-gallon container of water to her back with a band across her forehead supporting its weight. She then quickly set off for home, navigating the foot trails slick with summer rains that led to her house in a small community located in the highlands of Chiapas, Mexico.
Getting water from a communal spigot is a chore she performs several times a day. Her home has no running water. In order to wash clothes, bathe and clean, she must carry it from a location near the school. Though Chiapas contains nearly 50 percent of Mexico’s watershed, many indigenous families like Luz’s do not have direct access to clean, potable water and, unless they have water catchment systems, must carry it for long distances.
Luz and her mother are members of Tsobol Antzetik (Women United), a cooperative of Mayan weavers working to support their families by selling their products in the U.S. for fair trade prices. The women of Tsobol Antzetik are artists, breadwinners, active community members, mothers, sisters, daughters, teachers and grandmothers. Some are Abejas (a Catholic social justice organization), and others are members of the support bases of the EZLN (the Zapatista Army of National Liberation). All of these women are part of the resistance, which means they take no handouts from a government they believe is corrupt. They do not participate in traditional politics.
They and many others believe that giving handouts is a strategy used to coerce and control rural communities. Only those who officially support the government receive assistance. Stark reminders of these tactics are visible in the communities we visited. Following Luz back home, we gingerly stepped over pipes carrying water through other families’ corn fields. In addition, in her community a new health clinic is under construction, its modern concrete walls and design a clear indicator of something new and promising. The clinic is part of the government’s anti-poverty program, Oportunidades (Opportunities). According to the World Bank, the program’s focus is to provide aid to rural and urban communities by helping improve the education, health and nutrition of their families. Monthly grants are provided to keep children in school rather than working in the fields, basic health care and preventative care is provided, and nutritional supplements and stipends given out. Because she is part of the resistance, Luz will never have access to this clinic.
Ana is a weaver in the co-op. When we first arrived, her 10-month-old baby had not yet been named. It is common for people in this community to wait at least six months to a year before naming their children, since highly marginalized rural indigenous communities in Chiapas face an infant mortality rate of 75 deaths per 1000. Norma was named three days before her baptism. The government’s solution to high infant mortality: Oportunidades, which Mexican President Calderón describes as an “advance towards combating the poverty suffered by our people and above all, to guarantee better access to health conditions.”
But Oportunidades is described by sociologist Molly Talcott as “…essentially sterilizing women and attempting to contain women’s resistances [sic] by enlisting them in a small cash assistance program, which in these times, is badly needed.” In 2003, a Mexican newspaper reported that health care workers employed by IMSS-Oportunidades, have to meet sterilization quotas. Sixty-one percent of families in Chiapas use Oportunidades.
One of the ways to combat the challenges of living in the resistance is by weaving. Children, women and men often create artisan products to help supplement their family’s income. Every spare minute of each day is spent working on these items, in between preparing food, working in the fields, taking care of children and other household chores. On a typical day Ana gets up at approximately 4 a.m. She goes to the kitchen and grinds corn into nixtamal for tortillas, and puts the beans that have been soaking all night onto the fire to cook. When there is a break during the day, Ana weaves. She usually works until 9 p.m., at which point the family gathers around the fire in the kitchen for the evening meal, talking and laughing until it is time to go to bed.
Las Cruces Chiapas Connection, an organization based in this border-area community, helps sell co-op members’ products by finding markets in the United States. The income generated by sales helps people remain on their lands and feed their families. It also provides an economic alternative for young men and women who often see migration as their only option. NAFTA and other development projects have displaced thousands of Mexicans, making it difficult for people to earn a living. Luz’s husband is currently working in Cancun, Mexico, in order to provide for his new family. She has not seen him in over nine months.
Juan, Ana’s son, finished sixth grade and worked for several months picking coffee with an uncle away from home. He hated it. He missed his family and his community. When he came back home a friend told him about a weaver in Acteal who was taking on apprentices. He worked for six months winding thread onto bobbins and three-and-a-half years as an apprentice. By January of 2010 he had the 6,000 pesos necessary to buy a loom of his own. He hopes that his weaving will contribute to his family’s income.
Chiapas, rich in natural resources, has long been a target for development by the Mexican government and foreign investors. Under the administration of Vicente Fox, Plan Puebla Panamá (PPP) was unveiled. Originating in 2001, the plan called for massive development and infrastructure projects, including a super highway running from southern Mexico to Colombia. It was received with resistance from various groups claiming that corporations were favored over people and that the region’s biodiversity would be ruined. Mexican Energy Secretary Georgina Kessel has announced plans to begin drilling for oil in the Lacandón Rainforest, home to several indigenous communities, many of whom are in the resistance. A report cited by Kessel estimates that 17,000 new wells could produce over 500,000 barrels per day by 2021.
In 2008 PPP was renamed as the Mesoamerica Project (MP). Officially, the MP promotes integration and development, focusing on energy, trade, sustainable development, tourism and transportation. Unofficially, MP calls for the removal of indigenous people from their lands in order to open them for capitalist development projects. In 2009 regional security was added as a key component of MP. This has led to increased military presence which in turn is used to quell social unrest.
Ana’s husband is worried about being forcibly moved off his land and put into a “rural city.” He fears that young people will lose their traditions because their identities are tied to the land. Former President Fox estimated that 80 percent of rural residents of southern Mexico would have to relocate for PPP to be successful. The government promotes “sustainable rural cities” as models of development complete with educational facilities, electricity and running water. Dr. Japhy Wilson tells us that “once relocated in the rural cities, the ‘dispersed population’ of the Chiapas peasantry will no longer [be able to] dedicate itself to self-sufficient production in the milpa, …instead [they will become landless laborers working for] large-scale agroindustrial plantations. These ‘intensive plantations’ will include commercial forests, tropical fruits and flowers, biofuels, cacao, and coffee. The strategy is perfectly consistent with the Plan Puebla Panamá.”
Indigenous communities in the heart of Chiapas are already organizing against the Mesoamerica Project. They are no strangers to resistance, and know the consequences of standing up to the government and paramilitary groups. In 1997, 45 women, men and children of Las Abejas were massacred as they prayed and fasted in church to end the violence in their community. Paramilitary groups sanctioned by the government to squash the rebellion of Zapatistas and their sympathizers committed the murders. Though some arrests were made, perpetrators were released by the federal courts in 2009. Nevertheless, Las Abejas has a march planned for sometime in the fall, where they will walk from their headquarters in Acteal to the government center in San Cristobal.
Being part of the resistance has brought a renewed sense of dignity to the indigenous people in Chiapas. It is a difficult life, but a proud one as well. Father Marcelo, the first indigenous priest in the region, told us that he was glad we had come because he thinks we can learn from indigenous peoples who have a special relationship with Mother Earth that others need to emulate if we are to avoid self-destruction as a species.
To learn more about PPP, MP and “rural cities” visit www.ciepac.org, bulletins 560, 561 and 562. See also www.lascruceschiapasconnection.com. For more on Oportunidades, http://geo-mexico.com/?tag=social-geography., INEGI 2005, Instituto Nacional de Ciencias Médicas y Nutrición “Salvador Zubrán” UNICEF, http://www.banderasnews.com/1006/hbmesoamerica2015.htm .
Crystal Massey is a graduate student of Human Rights and Democracy at the Facultad Latinoamericana de Ciencias Sociales in Mexico City, mother, wife, teacher and advocate for human rights.
Rebecca Wiggins is a doctoral student at UTEP, and a member of Las Cruces Chiapas Connection.
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