Narco News 2001
The
Seven Messages
Solve
the Seven-Part Zapatista Riddle
EZLN Translated
by irlandesa and by Narco News
Send
your interpretations to:
The
Seven Messages
From
the Zapatista Army
Advance
on Mexico City
The First Key
From Temoaya, State of Mexico
March 5, 2001
Brothers
and Sisters:
Starting
today, we shall begin sending messages to Mexico City.
There
are seven messages.
Each
one of them has a meaning on its own, and they have exponential
meaning, that is, the one plus the two has meaning, the one plus
the two
plus the three another meaning, and so on, until the seventh
is complete.
Once the seventh has arrived, we shall enter Mexico City.
The
First Key:
"You
have nothing to fear.
Let
those fear who close their ears and mouths to hearing and speaking
with
those whom we are. They shall then be set aside. They shall find
themselves impotent as those without voice recover their voice
and those
without face finally recover their face. Then their pursuits
shall be as
nothing, those which ape those of the conquistadors, those of
the viceroys,
those of the conservatives who wanted to make us their empire,
those of the
Porfirio landowners, those of Carlos Salinas de Gortari, those
of Ernesto
Zedillo.
None
of them exist now.
And
we, we are here.
History
has a place for everyone. One takes it, or one leaves it. In
adding and subtracting, not only the "yes's" and "no's"
are added, but also
the silences."
The Second Key
From Tepoztlán,
Morelos
March 6, 2001
"The
silence which we - who are the color of the earth - are has been
shattered. Above its pieces, we are raising ourselves up.
The
possibility of our becoming again what we once were, and what
we are
not, is not at stake.
Neither
is our being what others turn us into.
What
is at stake is whether or not the place we already have, and
in which
we are, is recognized.
It is
the possibility of being with everyone and not under the others.
The
small we - of the great we which we are - does not matter.
Everyone
is important: those who make laws and those who legitimize them.
Those who make history and those who write it."
The Third Key
From Iguala, Guerrero
March 7, 2001
"This
is Mexico. In order to make war one must challenge the government.
In order to achieve the peace with justice and dignity, one must
also
challenge the government. We, thus, are challenging whomever
objects. We
are challenging them."
The Fourth Key
From Cuautla, Morelos
March 7, 2001
"We
shall, then, walk the same path of history, but we shall not
repeat it.
We are from before, but we are new."
The
Fifth Key
From
Milpa Alta, Mexico City
March
8, 2001
"Those
of us who take on a name and a mission, we are clothed and protected.
He gave us the "nos" that we carry. The "yesses"
are an inheritance from the principal ones that are the color
of the earth. We don't have two faces. Two feet, yes we do. He
who is one is she who is one, is the dignified and rebel woman
who walks us. When the moon is a queen who carries three sadnesses,
she announces that for three nights the force will be made stronger
in the color of the earth.
"The
seventh day of passage that left from the house of the Purépecha
dawning, the color of the earth will paint all the lands that
grow toward above. Only then will the pain begin to die. And
the color of we who are the earth will dance with all the colors."
The
Sixth Key
From
Xochimilco, Mexico City
March
10, 2001
"On the seventh
day dawning from the step that we gave birth to collectively,
the word will be veiled. On the shoulders of wheat, we will be
bread with everything that we are. The land that grows toward
above will open its eyes and ears to the color of the earth.
That is to say, it will open its arms to us.
"The day
will reflect the one in the mirror and the rebellion will reiterate
history. March will see the silence made into splinters and another
voice, the brown voice, will be among all the voices that sing."
The
Seventh Key
From
the Heart of México
March
11, 2001
"The Seventh Key is..
You "
Words of the EZLN
March 11, 2001.
In the Zócalo of Mexico City.
Mexico City:
We have arrived.
We are here.
We are the National Indigenous
Congress and zapatistas who are, together,
greeting you.
If the grandstand where
we are is where it is, it is not by accident. It
is because, from the very beginning, the government has been
at our backs.
Sometimes with artillery
helicopters, sometimes with paramilitaries,
sometimes with bomber planes, sometimes with war tanks, sometimes
with
soldiers, sometimes with the police, sometimes with offers for
the buying
and selling of consciences, sometimes with offers for surrender,
sometimes
with lies, sometimes with strident statements, sometimes with
forgetting,
sometimes with expectant silences. Sometimes, like today, with
impotent
silences.
That is why the government
never sees us, that is why it does not listen to
us.
If they quickened their
pace a bit, they might catch up with us.
They could see us then,
and listen to us.
They could understand
the long and firm perspective of the one who is
persecuted and who, nonetheless, is not worried, because he knows
that it
is the steps that follow which require attention and determination.
Brother, Sister:
Indigenous, worker, campesino,
teacher, student, neighbor, housewife,
driver, fisherman, taxi driver, stevedore, office worker, street
vendor,
brother, unemployed, media worker, professional worker, religious
person,
homosexual, lesbian, transsexual, artist, intellectual, militant,
activist,
sailor, soldier, sportsman, legislator, bureaucrat, man, woman,
child,
young person, old one.
Brother, sister of the
National Indigenous Congress, now rainbow of the
best of the Indian peoples of Mexico:
We should not have been
here.
(After hearing this, I'm
sure that the one at my back is applauding like
crazy for the first time. So I'm going to repeat it
)
We should not have been
here.
The ones who should have
been here are the zapatista indigenous
communities, their 7 years of struggle and resistance, their
ear and their
looking.
The zapatista people.
The men, children, women and old ones, support bases
of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation, who are the feet
that walk
us, the voice that speaks us, the looking which makes us visible,
the ear
which makes us heard.
The ones who should have
been here are the insurgent women and men, their
persistent shadow, their silent strength, their memory risen.
The insurgent women and
men. The women and men who make up the regular
troops of the EZLN and who are guardian and heart of our peoples.
It is they who deserve
to see you and to listen to you and to speak with
you.
We should not have been
here.
And, nonetheless, we are.
And we are next to them,
the men and women who people the Indian peoples of
all Mexico.
The Indian peoples, our
most first, the very first inhabitants, the first
talkers, the first listeners.
Those who, being first,
are the last to appear and to perish...
Indigenous brother, sister.
Tenek.
We come from very far
away.
Tlahuica.
We walk time.
Tlapaneco.
We walk the land.
Tojolabal.
We are the bow and the
arrow.
Totonaco.
Wind walked.
Triqui.
We are the blood and the
heart.
Tzeltal.
The guerrero and the guardian.
Tzotzil.
The embrace of the compañero.
Wixaritari.
They assume us to be defeated.
Yaqui.
Mute.
Zapoteco.
Silenced.
Zoque.
We have much time in our
hands.
Maya.
We came here to give ourselves
name.
Kumiai.
We came here to say "we
are."
Mayo.
We came here to be gazed
upon.
Mazahua.
Here to see ourselves
being looked upon.
Mazateco.
Our name is spoken here
for our journey.
Mixe.
This is what we are:
The one who flourishes
amidst hills.
The one who sings.
The one who guards and
nurtures the ancient word.
The one who speaks.
The one who is of maize.
The one who resides in
the mountain.
The one who walks the
land.
The one who shares the
idea.
The true we.
The true man.
The ancestor.
The Señor of the
net.
The one who respects history.
The one who is people
of humble custom.
The one who speaks flowers.
The one who is rain.
The one who has knowledge
to govern.
The hunter of arrows.
The one who is sand.
The one who is river.
The one who is desert.
The one who is the sea.
The different one.
The one who is person.
The swift walker.
The one who is good.
The one who is mountain.
The one who is painted
in color.
The one who speaks right
word.
The one who has three
hearts.
The one who is father
and older brother.
The one who walks the
night.
The one who works.
The man who is man.
The one who walks from
the clouds.
The one who has word.
The one who shares the
blood and the idea.
The son of the sun.
The one who goes from
one side to the other.
The one who walks the
fog.
The one who is mysterious.
The one who works the
word.
The one who governs in
the mountain.
The one who is brother,
sister.
Amuzgo.
Our name says all of this.
Cora.
And it says more.
Cuicateco.
But it is hardly heard.
Chinanteco.
Another name covers our
name.
Chocholteco.
We came here to be ourselves
with those we are.
Chol.
We are the mirror for
seeing ourselves and for being ourselves.
Chontal.
We, those who are the
color of the earth.
Guarijío.
Here, no longer shame
for the color of our skin.
Huasteco.
Language.
Huave.
Clothing.
Kikapú.
Dance.
Kukapá.
Song.
Mame.
Size.
Matlatzinca.
History.
Mixteco.
Here, no longer embarrassment.
Nahuatl.
Here the pride of our
being the color we are of the color of the earth.
Ñahñu.
Here the dignity which
is seeing ourselves being seen being the color of
the earth which we are.
O'Odham.
Here the voice which births
us and inspires us.
Pame.
Here, the silence no longer.
Popoluca.
Here the shout.
Purepecha.
Here, the place that was
concealed.
Rarámuri.
Here the dark light, the
time and the feeling.
Indigenous and Non-indigenous
Brother, Sister:
We are mirror.
We are here in order to
see each other and to show each other, so you may
look upon us, so you may look at yourself, so that the other
looks in our
looking.
We are here and we are
a mirror.
Not reality, but merely
its reflection.
Not light, but merely
a glimmer.
Not path, but merely a
few steps.
Not guide, but merely
one of the many routes which lead to tomorrow.
Brother, Sister Mexico
City:
When we say "we are,"
we are also saying "we are not" and "we shall
not
be."
That is why it is good
for those who, up above, are money and the ones who
peddle it, to take note of the word, to listen to it carefully,
and to look
with care at what they do not want to see.
We are not those who aspire
to make themselves power and then impose the
way and the word. We will not be.
We are not those who put
a price on their own, or another's, dignity, and
convert the struggle into a market, where politics is the business
of
sellers who are fighting, not about programs, but for clients.
We will not
be.
We are not those who are
expecting pardon and handouts from the one who
feigns to help, when he is, in reality, buying, and who does
not pardon,
but humiliates the one who, by merely existing, is a defiance
and challenge
and claim and demand. We will not be.
We are not those who wait,
naively, for justice to come from above, when it
only comes from below. The liberty which can only be achieved
with
everyone. The democracy which is all the floors and is fought
for all the
time. We will not be.
We are not the passing
fashion which, made ballad, is filed in the calendar
of defeats which this country flaunts with such nostalgia. We
will not be.
We are not the cunning
calculation which falsifies the word and conceals a
new fakery within it. We are not the simulated peace longing
for eternal
war. We are not those who say "three," and then "two"
or "four" or "all"
or "nothing." We will not be.
We are, and we shall be,
one more in the March.
Of Indigenous Dignity.
Of the Color of the Earth.
That which unveils and
reveals the many Mexicos which are hidden and suffer
under Mexico.
We are not their spokesperson.
We are one voice among
all those voices.
An echo which dignity
repeats among all the voices.
We join with them, we
are made multiple with them.
We will continue to be
echo. We are, and we shall be, voice.
We are reflection and
shout.
We shall always be.
We can be with or without
face, armed with fire or without, but we are
zapatistas, we are and we shall always be.
Ninety years ago the powerful
asked those from below which Zapata was
called:
"With whose permission,
Señores?"
And those from below responded,
and we respond:
"With ours."
And with our permission,
for exactly 90 years, we have been shouting, and
they call us "rebels."
And today we are repeating:
we are rebels.
Rebels we shall be.
But we want to be so with
everyone we are.
Without war as house and
path.
Because so speaks the
color of the earth: The struggle has many paths, and
it has but one destiny: to be color with all the colors which
clothe the
earth.
Brother, Sister:
Up there they say that
this is the end of a tremor. That everything will
pass except their being above us.
Up there they say that
you are here to watch in morbid fascination, to
hear, without listening to anything. They say we are few, that
we are
weak. That we are nothing more than a photograph, an anecdote,
a
spectacle, a perishable product whose expiration date is close
at hand.
Up there they say that
you will leave us alone. That we shall return alone
and empty to the land in which we are.
Up there they say that
forgetting is defeat, and they want to wait for you
to forget and to fail and to be defeated.
They know up there, but
they do not want to say it: there will be no more
forgetting, and defeat shall not be the crown for the color of
the earth.
But they do not want to
say so, because saying it is recognizing it, and
recognizing it is seeing that everything has changed, and nothing
will
change now without everyone changed, changing.
This movement, the one
of the color of the earth, is yours, and because it
is yours, it is ours.
Now, and it is what they
fear, there is no longer the "you" and the "we,"
because now we are all the color we are of the earth.
It is the hour for the
fox and the one he serves to listen and to listen to
us.
It is the hour for the
fox and the one who commands him to see us.
Our word speaks one single
thing.
Our looking looks at one
single thing.
The constitutional recognition
of indigenous rights and culture.
A dignified place for
the color of the earth.
It is the hour in which
this country ceases to be a disgrace, clothed only
in the color of money.
It is the hour of the
Indian peoples, of the color of the earth, of all the
colors which we are below, and which colors we are in spite of
the color of
money.
We are rebels because
the land is rebel if someone is selling and buying
it, as if the land did not exist, as if the color we are of the
earth did
not exist.
Mexico City:
We are here. We are here
as rebellious color of the earth which shouts:
Democracy!
Liberty!
Justice!
Mexico:
We did not come to tell
you what to do, or to guide you along any path. We
came in order to humbly, respectfully, ask you to help us. For
you to not
allow another day to dawn without this flag having an honorable
place for
us who are the color of the earth.
From the Zócalo
in Mexico City.
Clandestine Revolutionary
Indigenous Committee -
General Command of the Zapatista Army of National Liberation.
Mexico, March of 2001.
The Most Important
Zapatista...
...Is in the Mirror