Zapatista Spring - The Hungry Fool Review
I recently finished reading Zapatista Spring: Anatomy of a Rebel Water Project & The Lessons of International Solidarity, by Ramor Ryan. I really enjoyed it, so I thought I'd share bits of why this book is a satisfying and compelling one.
Ryan is a translator and activist from Ireland with anarchist leanings (he doesn't dwell too much on the exact nature of his political views in this book). When he wrote Zapatista Spring he had been working with Zapatista base communities in rural Chiapas, with the help of like-minded activists, to install water systems that deliver clean drinking water to the communities in question.
Maybe some background. For those of you who don't know, the Zapatista movement emerged in the mid-90's, in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas, as an indigenous peasant uprising to assert human rights in the face of extreme poverty and to mount an attack on neoliberal economic policies (especially the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement, a specific effect of which was the opening up of the indigenous ejido system of communal land ownership to privatization) that they saw as posing a direct threat to their livelihoods and ways of life. On New Year's Day, 1994, adherents of the Zapatista National Liberation Army (EZLN is the Spanish acronym) publicly emerged after over a decade of organizing to declare war on the Mexican government, storming and seizing control of towns and cities in Chiapas. Several hundred thousand hectares of Chiapas land were, in the words of the EZLN, "recuperated" and distributed amongst it's many members. They've since shifted to a more nonviolent revolutionary strategy, focusing their resources on developing a network of autonomous municipalities on their recuperated land in order to provide themselves with the makings of a good life, outside of the state and capitalism. The Mexican army regards them with hostility, declaring their autonomous territory a "war zone" and manning its borders with armed soldiers.
The international spokesperson of the Zapatistas, Subcomandante Marcos, has issued many communiques that detail the demands, political orientation, and philosophy of the Zapatistas. From Marcos' writings, as well as observations of their community structure, it is known that the Zapatistas lean towards what could be described as an anarchist/libertarian socialist outlook. Their system of self-governance emphasizes participatory democracy, with each community organizing a general assembly which sends delegates to larger assemblies in order to make decisions and develop the communities. The Zapatista organizational method’s direct democratic, anti-authoritarian tendencies have garnered solidarity from a global network of anarchists and like-minded activists. Many of these global sympathizers have travelled to the Zapatista communities to express their solidarity by assisting with community development projects. This is where Ryan comes in.
This book details his work, with two other "solidarity water workers" to assist the inhabitants of the Zapatista hamlet of Roberto Arenas in constructing a network of pipes to deliver spring water from a nearby mountain to the community member's homes. Zapatista Spring describes the messy, exciting, and achingly real process of doing that.
I appreciate Ryan's solid dedication to the titular theme of solidarity, which is a near-constant presence in this book. He is clear in his narration as to the nature of the work he strives for with the people of Roberto Arenas: he and the other water workers are fellow revolutionaries who hope to assist the community members in asserting their rebel autonomy. They are comrades (compañeros) in a larger struggle to challenge capitalism and state repression. They are not paid staff of an international aid NGO, philanthropists, or other roles that imply a relationship of charity and dependence. Ryan and the other members of the water team are careful to involve community members in all stages of the design and implementation of the water system, in order to create a system that truly serves their needs and can be readily maintained by them well into the future. They are adamant about listening to the perspectives of female community members, whose voices are rarely present in the village's general assembly. They strive to honor the idea that this project is not just about a water system, but about furthering the revolutionary goals of the Zaptistas. With that in mind, they attempt to embody the ideals of the revolution in the process of implementing the water system.
As the subtitle of this book implies, this process is anything but simple. The largely Western group of activist water workers must constantly grapple with the cultural, economic, and linguistic gaps between themselves and the community members they are working with. Far from being a prosperous village populated by zealous revolutionaries committed to the ideals that Subcomandante Marcos espouses, the people of Roberto Arenas are largely illiterate, resource-poor, and (as later events demonstrate) wavering in their support of the EZLN organization. Despite having access to the natural riches of the Lacondan jungle (a relatively pristine ecology that was at the time of writing being partitioned off and exploited by private investors), the population still suffers from malnutrition and preventable disease (and therefore death). Additionally, the socially conservative nature of the base communities lends itself to patriarchal practices, adherence to authoritarian relations, and a disciplined, pious public demeanor. These social conditions are not only unfamiliar to the leftist water workers, but often antithetical to their political practice. Striking the delicate balance between cultural pluralism and advocating for more progressive norms is an ongoing theme. For example, the water workers continually agitate for the traditionally downplayed needs of the female community members in the village’s general assembly, a practice that initially ruffles the feathers of the presiding patriarchs, but eventually results in material gains for the women. Reconciling these cultural differences while acknowledging the common points of solidarity the two groups share is an ongoing process of altering assumptions about what living in a revolutionary peasant community means and looks like.
Yet the two groups do share common ground. Most obvious is their shared resistance to capitalist development and state repression. The water workers come to this point from the world of academic political theory and their observations of capitalism’s corrosive tendencies; the campesinos arrive largely out of material necessity, through experiencing and knowing firsthand the pain of abject poverty and historical dispossession. To them the abstractions of theory are of little comfort (or relevance) if concrete material improvements in their lives are not achieved. Throwing in their lot with the EZLN was an act of faith in the ability of the organization to provide them with a better life, and any developments must be judged by to what degree they accomplish that.
And to be sure, they enjoy some degree of collective security: their communal and personal plots of corn and vegetables, as well as a litany of livestock, provide them with adequate sustenance and a small income. Income is used to purchase new tools, building materials, and other items to improve the village living conditions. There is also a palpable sense of community and collectivity in the village; a lived practice of social solidarity that eases the pains of poverty and enlivens the everyday tasks of collecting water and weeding the corn fields with laughter and conviviality. Life is imperfect, but it could be much worse.
And to aid in the development of this struggling but bold rebel autonomy, the water workers bring the knowledge and materials needed to construct a water system. They work with the community to determine needs, organize the necessary labor, and finally to implement the means by which pathogen-free water will be piped directly to the village center. This is accomplished successfully, with only minor structural errors, and thus another layer of security and autonomy is added to life in Roberto Arenas.
Years later, after focusing on writing and other forms of activism, Ryan and some of the former water workers return to Roberto Arenas to check in with the community that they had grown so close to. Through a series of unexpected run-ins with military personnel and a neighboring Zapatista community, they learn that the village of Roberto Arenas had officially shifted allegiance to the counterrevolutionary group known as the Organization for the Defense of Indigenous and Campesino Rights (OPDDIC is the Spanish acronym), which exists in part to defend the privatization of the lands the EZLN recuperated. OPDDIC's members receive support from the Mexican government in the form of land, community infrastructure, and weapons that are used to mount attacks on Zapatista base communities. It's a survival tactic exemplary of other villages tempted by the large community infrastructure investments offered by the government in order to sway campesinos away from the Zapatista’s revolutionary goals. The water workers learn that a Roberto Arenas community leader they had bonded with remained “committed as ever” to Zapatismo, but saw it as a material necessity to “sell out” and benefit from the infrastructure offered by the government. Ryan notes that while the government is able to offer the communities state of the art structural improvements, the infrastructure often develops issues that cannot be resolved with community resources, and that government technicians are often unresponsive to pleas for assistance.
Ryan and the other workers are conflicted and depressed about this development. Had they effectively “aided the enemy” by practicing solidarity with the people of Roberto Arenas? Will the people of Roberto Arenas be better off? What does this development portend for the future of Zapatismo, or of revolutionary aspirations in general, in these communities?
Ryan evocatively compares the work of creating a more just world to Albert Camus’ characterization of the Greek myth of Sisyphus: a Greek king condemned to push a boulder up a hill, only to see it roll down the other side, for all of eternity. This literally unending and meaningless task is likened, by Camus, to the equally unending task of creating meaning and light in an absurd world. Working to develop a radically free, satisfying, and healthy world: in the words of Camus, "The struggle itself...is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
Ryan, the water workers, the community members of Roberto Arenas, and the Zapatistas -- they are all actors, compelled by divergent experiences, to engage in this Sisyphean project.
