by Raúl Zibechi, Roar Magazine
Translated from Spanish by Tamara van der Putten
For the past twenty years since the Zapatista uprising on
January 1st, 1994, social movements in Latin America have championed one of the
most intense and extensive cycles of struggle in the world. Ever since the 1989
Caracazo, uprisings, insurrections and mobilizations have encompassed the whole
region, delegitimized the neoliberal model, and recognized those from below —
organized into movements — as central actors of social change.
Zapatismo was part of this wave in the 1990s and soon became
one of the inescapable referents of Latin American resistance, even amongst
those who do not share their proposals and forms of action. It is almost
impossible to make a full list of what the movements have realized in these two
decades. We can only review a handful of significant acts: the piquetero
struggle in Argentina (1997-2002), the indigenous and popular uprisings in
Ecuador, the Peruvian mobilizations that forced Fujimori’s resignation, and the
1999 Paraguayan March that led Lino Oviedo to seek exile after a military coup.
In the next decade we had the formidable response of the
Venezuelan people to the 2002 right-wing coup, the three Bolivian “wars”
between 2000 and 2005 (one about water and two about gas) that erased the
neoliberal right from the political map, the impressive struggle of the
Amazonian Indians in Bagua (Peru) in 2009, the resistance of Guatemalan
communities to mining, the Oaxaca commune in 2006, and the mobilization of Paraguayan
peasantry in 2002 against privatization.
In the last three years, a new layer was added to the
movements that could suggest a new cycle of struggles, including the
mobilization of Chilean secondary students, the community resistance to the
Conga mining enterprise in northern Peru, the growing resistance to mining,
fumigations and Monsanto in Argentina, the defense of TIPNIS (Territorio
Indígena y Parque Nacional Isiboro Sécure) in Bolivia, and the resistance to
the Belo Monte Dam in Brazil.
In 2013 alone, we had the Colombian agrarian strike that was
capable of uniting all rural sectors (campesinos, indigenous and cane cutters)
against the free trade agreement with the United States, as well as the June
mobilizations in Brazil against the ferocious extraction of labor for the 2014
World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro.
This series of mobilizations that have sprouted throughout
Latin America for the past two decades positively indicate that grassroots
movements are alive across the region. Many of them are carriers of a new
political culture and a new form of political organization, which is reflected
in multiple ways and which is different from what we knew in the 1960s and
1970s.
Some of the movements, from the Chilean secondary school
students and the Zapatista communities, to the Guardians of the Conga Lakes,
the Venezuela Settlers’ Movement and the Movimento Livre Passe (MPT) of Brazil,
reveal some common characteristics that are worth noting.
The first is the massive and exceptional participation of
the youth and of women. As vulnerable victims of capitalist exploitation, their
presence revitalizes anti-capitalist struggles because they can be directly
involved in the movement. Ultimately, it is they — those who have nothing to
lose — who give movements an
intransigent radical character.
Secondly, a unique political culture is gaining ground,
which the Zapatistas have synthesized in the expression “governing by obeying”
(mandar obedeciendo). Those who care for the lakes in Peru — the heirs of
peasant patrols (rondas campesinas) – obey their communities. The young
activists of the MPL in Brazil make decisions by consensus in order to avoid
consolidating a majority, and they explicitly reject the “loudspeaker cars”
that union bureaucracies used to impose control on their marches.
Another common feature to these movements is the project of
autonomy and horizontality, words that only started being used 20 years ago but
which have already been fully incorporated into the political language of those
involved in the various struggles. Activists claim autonomy from the state and
political parties, as well as horizontality — the collective leadership of the
movement rather than that of any individual. For instance, members of the Coordinating
Assembly of Secondary Students (ACES, its initials in Spanish) of Chile
function horizontally, with a collective leadership and an assembly.
The fourth characteristic is the predominance of flows over
structures. The organization adapts itself and is subordinate to the movement;
it is not frozen into a structure that conditions the collective with its own
separate interests. The collectives that struggle are similar to communities in
resistance, in which all run similar risks and where the division of labor is
adjusted according to the objectives that the group outlines at every given
moment.
In this new layer of organization, it is difficult to
distinguish who the leaders are — not because referents and spokespersons do
not exist, but rather because the difference between leaders and followers
diminishes as the collective leadership of those from below increases. This is
perhaps one of the most important aspects of the new political culture that has
been expanding over the course of the past two decades.
Finally, Zapatismo is a political and ethical referent — not
so much indicating a direction for these movements, but rather serving as an
example from which to take inspiration. Multiple dialogues are taking place
among all the various Latin American movements, not in the style of formal and
structured gatherings, but as direct exchanges of knowledge and experience
between activist networks: precisely the kind of exchange that we need in order
to strengthen our struggle against the system.
