The Fourth, the Sixth, the Other, and US
By El Kilombo Intergaláctico
(get the PDF)
This piece was originally prepared as a presentation given at an El Kilombo event, “Political Action: Beyond Solidarity,” in the spring of 2007 as part of our contribution as adherents of the Zapatista’s Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle, and as a report-back of our accompaniment of the Other Campaign. One year later, we find it more relevant than ever. Please see footnotes for updates on specific data.
Introduction: A Scrambled Geography
We want to talk first about a country where severe poverty has reached a three decade high, where roughly 37 million poor people are dropping ranks at a rate of 26% over the last 5 years to swell the level of deep or severe poverty to 16 million . It is now estimated that 60% of the population will spend part at least of their lives poor by official standards, and 40% will live an extended period in poverty. Among the top 10 states affected by this exponential growth are not the states of Chiapas, Oaxaca, or Guerrero, historically known on the North American continent to be poverty-stricken, but rather the states of North Carolina, New Mexico, and Louisiana. This is the United States in the 21st century, which, parallel to what we normally consider “developing” nations, has, at the mercy of neoliberal policies, experienced that once curious and now commonplace combination of statistical economic expansion on a national scale and falling wages and decreasing job growth for the great majority of the population. The benefits of US economic expansion and globalization do not benefit substantially even the top 10% of the US population, but rather the top 1%. And while that 1% has enjoyed a salary growth of 87% in the last 30 years, the top 0.1% has enjoyed 181% increase and the top 0.01%, a 497% increase. Meanwhile, the average wage over roughly the same period of time, adjusted for inflation, has grown a total of one-half percent.
Along with a growing unemployment rate and an increase in the “precariousness” of labor—short-term, part-time, subcontracted work—we are seeing the salaries of the university-educated slide downward, urban rents rising more than 50% since 1995, health care premiums up 78% since 2001 with 47 million people without any health insurance at all, and the rise of a “boomerang” generation of post-college kids now returning to live with their parents due to slim-salaried employment options and crippling student debt. Foreclosure rates are the highest they have been since the Great Depression and continue to rise, disproportionately affecting people of color who have collectively lost $164 billion to $213 billion over the past eight years, in what has been the largest transfer of wealth from families and communities of color to brokers, lending institutions, and Wall Street in the history of the country. (Adding to the sense and reality of crisis, we saw the extent of the willingness and capacity of local and federal governments to aid communities of color after Hurricane Katrina.) Another US statistic: job satisfaction is dropping consistently, hovering now below 50% among workers of all ages and across all income brackets, with only 14% claiming to be “very satisfied.” Forty percent feel completely disconnected from their employers, 66% are unmotivated by their job objectives, and almost all are unsatisfied with bonus plans, promotion policies, health plans, and pensions—misery can’t be measured strictly with political economic indices.
But neither is increasing wealth disparity and a sinking social safety net a US phenomenon; while Bill Gates currently holds the title of richest man in the world, he will, if current patterns and predictions continue, be surpassed shortly by Carlos Slim, Mexican business mogul. There are 10 Mexican billionaires on the Forbes’ richest list now, their combined income doubling the Mexico’s entire foreign national debt; and the country presumably posed to appreciate the rather non-globalized benefits of globalization, the richest country in the world, now finds a surprising commonality with its neighbor to the south. In addition to shared population—the 28 million people of Mexican origin living in the US—the US and Mexico share the rank, accompanied worldwide only by Russia, of having the least and least effective anti-poverty programs. Neoliberalism, as the Zapatistas say, doesn’t turn many countries into one country; it turns each country into many countries.
I. The Fourth World War
This is the Fourth World War, fought not in the “third world” or the “first world” per se, but rather in the 3rd world found in the first, and in the first found in the third, confusing any understanding of who the “other” is, who one’s allies are, and playing itself out on the streets of Seattle, Chiapas, Genoa, Prague, Seoul, and a thousand other cities. This is a war, in the words of the Zapatistas, where “each country, each city, each countryside, each house, each person—each is a large or small battleground.” You see, they say, “Behind our black mask, behind our armed voice, behind our unnamable name, behind what you see of us, behind this, we are you.” It is unfortunate that this has in large part been taken metaphorically—the Zapatistas meant it quite literally.
Traumatic as these policies are for them, the Zapatistas remind us, for all of those who take the streets, they are in fact more traumatic for the political class, which finds itself irrelevant as its governmental role becomes one of managerial duties, and as powers well above it ask, why employ politicians if market analysts better understand the new logic of power, better understand how to divide, classify, and address citizens as clients and consumers? This new “society of power,” as the Zapatistas call it, is that conglomeration which holds together international financial organizations, mass media companies, large corporations, educational institutions, and some states with their politician-managers and national armies as particularly useful tools. The society of power often wields the discourse of national security and sovereignty, but deploys the always internationalist will of capital to promote the only thing it is loyal to, the empire of money.
This isn’t the map we normally see or the war we usually hear about. Let’s return to the entities on either side of the US-Mexico border. In the Zapatista analysis, “The nation-state which now claims the title of the divine hand of God (the United States of America) exists only on television, on the radio, in some newspapers and magazines, and in the movies.” What for one ideological position is the world power of “democracy and justice” and for another “brutality and imperialism” is in reality neither, they say; it is a media spectacle, a mythical haven, a hologram, and of course, a useful tool for capital. It is a façade of nation-ness that cannot even be loyal to itself: the heroes of this hologram are equally fleeting and utilitarian. The image of New York City fireman covered in ash in 2001, held up by US media and government agencies as world saviors of civilization and humanity, where are they now? the Zapatistas ask. They are in fact dying of respiratory disease, fighting (or their widowed families fighting) for even basic compensation and medical coverage from the US government. They were replaced on TV by the brave, armed soldier in Iraq, another image which quickly fades when that brave soldier is left vulnerable due to inadequate armor, sent injured to a rat-infested veteran’s hospital, or court-martialed for denouncing the war.
On the other side of the border is another challenge to “nationhood.” Mexico has moved into first place on a worldwide scale as receiver of remittances, which means that, internationally, it passed India in the amount of remittances received from citizens outside of the country and, internally, remittances surpassed both petroleum and tourism as a source of national income, weighing in at 27 billion dollars in 2007. In 2004 nearly half the country lived below the official poverty line of USD$4.00 a day; some 60% of the working population today are employed only in the informal economy (usually some version of street-vendor); and Mexico now holds first place in the world as exporter of labor, having lost a quarter of its rural population since 1994. With 15% of its total working population laboring in the US, Mexico now experiences such phenomena as that of the state of Zacatecas, which has in effect moved to the US—that is, there are now more Zacatecans living in the US than in Zacatecas.
Then, in addition to these two ambiguously sovereign entities, there are the people stuck in between. More than 26,000 immigrants are currently being held in detention facilities nationwide in the US, a record number that follows federal raids on workplaces over the past six months. This of course does not count the dead in the desert, the suffocated in the truck trailers, the cheated who are dropped off outside a Wal-Mart in Sonora, Mexico and told they have reached the United States of America, still hundreds of miles from the Rio Grande and without a cent to go further or go home, and all the undocumented deaths of the undocumented lives that dot the border.
If these problems could once be pushed to the margins, always offset to a more marginalized group, it is now becoming clearer that on the North American continent there are no more margins, or perhaps better said, there is nothing but margins. This underlines a common tendency towards the generalization of precariousness (lack of job security or stability or backup by social support), massive social fragmentation (into market groups for those who qualify as clients and penal institutions for those categorized as delinquents), spatial segregation (to manage precarity and preserve some semblance of who the “other” is), and, as many have already pointed out, a normalized state of exception to keep the disorder in order.
So now we (Mexico and the US) share the 4th World War. We constitute a single labor market. We share mutually lethal and complicit immigration and social policies. And, to gloss over what is a complex and important situation that deserves much more time than we’ll give it here, we share the experience of having an extreme right-wing president put in power through massive fraud and a self-serving electoral left that has offered, when it has offered anything, only a slightly more socially sophisticated management of neoliberal restructuring, leaving urban and rural poor and working people in both countries flailing as it abandons even faithful followers to their fates in backroom concessions with the party in power. It is in this context—the sham of an electoral system, the lack of any relationship much less a representative one between the political class and the population, and the poverty, debt, and dead-ends available to most people—that we want to look at the Other Campaign as one alternative being built in Mexico, and what it can offer to us in the way of constructing a movement in the US. Because what we also share in this struggle are the stakes: a possibility for constructing our own liberation, however we choose: a multiplicity of forms of free activity and being, or submission to a system of command where atomized fragments of life are made ready for work in the subordination of all life to accumulation.
II. The Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle
The Other Campaign is the Mexico-based part of the national and international initiative proposed by the Zapatistas in the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle, released in the summer of 2005. There are several ways to understand the “Sixth” in the trajectory of Zapatista history. One can look, for example, at the other five Declarations of the Lacandón Jungle, the first of which came out the day of the initial uprising, January 1, 1994 when the EZLN (Zapatista Army for National Liberation) took over seven important cities and hundreds of thousands of hectares of land in Mexico’s southernmost state of Chiapas, declaring that after 500 years of oppression, enough was enough, and that they would die for their demands: work, land, shelter, food, health, education, independence, liberty, democracy, justice, and peace. The following declarations, which came out at long-awaited intervals over the next several years, always explained a new moment, new “thinking” as they call it, in the Zapatista movement: an evaluation of their interactions with the government, a recounting of what they had learned in their interactions with “civil society”, an analysis of global political economy and its local manifestations, an account of their own processes of constructing autonomy in Zapatista territory. The 5th Declaration was dated July 1998, so the Sixth came out after a seven year gap.
We could also look at Zapatista history in terms of their repeated initiatives to create more, and more profound, encounters with “civil society”: the National Democratic Convention in 1994; the Intercontinental Encounter Against Neoliberalism and For Humanity, also called the “Intergalactic” in 1996; the March of the 1,111 indigenous Zapatistas to Mexico City in 1997 to demand constitutional reform; the 1999 Referendum in which 5,000 Zapatistas went out into villages, towns, and cities all over the country to hold a national consultation on indigenous rights; and the March of the Color of the Earth in 2001, again to Mexico City, each of these enabling them to meet another sector of the population, another group that supported them but which also had its own struggle.
We could also look at this history in terms of its symbolic icons: the fire, the word, the silence, and the “other.” The fire refers to the uprising and the twelve days of fighting in January of 1994, as well as to the subsequent ceasefire called by the Zapatistas in response to the massive public support and plea for an end to the fighting. The word refers to the dialogues, formally referencing the peace talks with the government, but also, and more importantly the Zapatistas have said, to their process of getting to know “civil society” through meetings, communiqués, letters, and the global traffic in and out of the Zapatista communities. The silence refers the years after the government betrayal of the peace accords with a bad faith counter-reform (2001), when the Zapatistas refused further conversation with those “above,” entered a period of public silence, and set about implementing the accords “in practice.” That is, they decided they would no longer ask or wait for their rights to be granted, and would instead continue with the process of constructing autonomy in their everyday lives themselves. They thus set about the creation of a system of autonomous governing councils, autonomous health and education programs, an autonomous judicial system, and what has resulted in a system of new social relations based on collective production, assembly decision-making, and direct democratic self-governance.
Or, in yet another way of looking at this history, we witness the expanding list of peoples and groups with whom the Zapatistas have met and begun to know, adding each time not just to their list of allies but to their network from and for “below”: students, workers, teachers, housewives, gays and lesbians, other indigenous groups, children, the elderly, religious laypeople who work with those below, artists, musicians, intellectuals, political prisoners, migrants, transvestites, transgender people, punks, goths, skateboarders, sexworkers, and so on.
It is out of this context that the Sixth arises: announcing that, having done an analysis of the world, of the national situation, of global capitalism and of their local conditions, and having carried out a referendum throughout all Zapatista territory to come to an agreement on this next step, they had decided that: 1) due to the continuing process of primitive accumulation, total destruction was imminent, not just of the Lacandón Jungle and the Zapatista communities, but of the global environment and human living conditions in general. Capitalism was destroying everything for short-term profit, they declared, and that it would stop nowhere, it would eat its own to continue the process; 2) that what they wanted, they could not obtain alone, nor was what they wanted just for themselves; and 3) that to do what they proposed in the Sixth Declaration was to risk everything they have gained in the past decade of struggle, but to do nothing was to lose for sure. And so they would come out of the jungle, unarmed, out of the clandestinity and protection provided by a guerrilla existence in the mountains, to meet and organize with the rest of civil society, to, in short, peacefully overturn the entire system of government and destroy capitalism, to remake politics and change the world.
On a national level this would take the form of the Other Campaign, a project to create a national anticapitalist program of struggle, nonviolent, non-electoral, from and for below, to create a new “nation” and a new way of doing politics. On the international level it would take the form of the intergalactic—a planetary network of struggle, highly organized but highly autonomous.
The Sixth Declaration gave an account of Zapatista history somewhat like we have done above—a process not only of fighting for their own rights and demands, of battle and dialogue with the government, of construction and rebellion in their own communities, but of a process of meeting other sectors of society, of learning to know other struggles, of learning to respect and to demand respect from the “other.” In the Sixth Declaration the Zapatistas announced that as a consequence of this process, “we couldn’t see and hear all that was happening on our planet and remain quiet, as if it we are only here where we’re at.” For Zapatismo this means that today Iraq is in southeast Mexico, Chiapas is on the US-Mexico border, Palestine is everywhere. The project to connect struggles would be not just a strategy of mutual support and solidarity between groups, but a project to create a new “we,” a collective subject from “below” capable of acting in cooperation beyond previously acknowledged borders that today function only to separate “us.” Included in this new subject are all those who are “humble, simple, dignified, and rebellious.”
III. The Other Campaign
Methodologically, the Other Campaign would start with the sending out of a Zapatista delegate to visit, traveling by land, each of the 32 states of the Mexican Republic, in addition to three meetings on the US-Mexico border to meet with people from “the other side” – the US. This was the work of Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos, and this was the process undertaken throughout 2006. These meetings were not typically big public events in big cities; the Zapatista delegation traveled where people lived and worked: to the most remote corners of the mountains, the desert, the plains, the forests, the coasts, to indigenous communities, squatter’s colonies, anarchist squats, to the red light districts to meet with sex-workers, to rural high schools to meet with students, to jails to meet with prisoners. These meetings were a great exercise in listening, not simply letting people talk, but creating the space for their words to be heard. Two or 200 participants, the Zapatista delegation listened to every single one. There is no shortcut to creating a new “we,” they said repeatedly, other than to listen to each other. After this initial journey, more commanders of the Zapatista army left Chiapas to meet other sectors and other struggles and continue the process of creating a national network of struggle.
There are two important trajectories of this process that we can point to as central to the process of building this new “we” of, from, and for below. One is the process of becoming united without becoming the same. The history of attempts by the left to unite struggles or create national or international level organizations have been characterized, and usually derailed, by structures and ideologies of the necessity of a vanguard to guide the masses, or the need for a united “people” to lend support and legitimacy to a leader, or the inevitable process whereby peasants give way to proletariat or social movements become political party base, in general the necessity to suppress internal differences in the interest of making a common front to face the enemy. If there was one theme that was most repeated throughout the Other Campaign by the Zapatistas it was this: we do not ask you to be like us, we ask you to be with us; we are not looking for followers, we are looking for comrades; the only thing that makes us the same is that we are all different.
The second aspect is to learn to know the “other,” to create a process of talking, and more importantly listening, that turns the category “other” from something marginal into something universal. That is, the “other” becomes each difference, self-valued and autonomous, among us, rather than measures of deviation from a norm. This was perhaps the conceptualization that most resonated across “civil society,” taking on fluctuating and transformative meanings where the “other” of “(An)Other world is possible” and the “Other Campaign” became an impetus for an “other” education, an “other” media, an “other” communication, an “other” sexuality, etc. The “todos somos Marcos” (We are all Marcos!) chanted by the Zapatista communities in 1994 was transformed into the “tod@s somos OTR@S” (We are all Others!) chanted by the transsexual community, adherents of the Sixth Declaration, in Oaxaca City, 2006.
The process of becoming “other” is not something figurative in the Other Campaign, it is a concrete process. There really was no trick for doing this new “othering” than actually sitting and listening, for hours and hours, to how the transsexual community identifies neoliberalism in Oaxaca City, and how the landless peasants live neoliberalism on its outskirts. And in this process, it was not just the Zapatistas that listened to each struggle, but each group began to hear the others, and a network of knowledge began to form in which farmers, street vendors, students, and housewives knew each other’s problems, persecutions, and perspectives. These are not easy tasks, and it is sometimes only when one is sitting in an assembly of the communist party and the anarchist collectives of Saltillo, Coahuila, or in a meeting of Oaxacan indigenous farmers and Oaxaca City cross-dressers, that you begin to see that when there is no prescription to follow, when, as the Zapatistas have always said, there is no road where we want to go, when one is offered various paths in life and doesn’t like any of them, the rebellious do not pick, they start building a new one.
The new path being constructed in the Other Campaign starts here then, with a new “we” composed of all those from “below.” But “below” is not a term for victims, nor is it a term for an opposition; it is not the counterpart to, or the consequence of, “above.” It is an affirmative organization, a political project, a new way of composing community. The Other Campaign thus was not about drawing masses of people into a centralized organization, but rather building, one encounter at a time, networks of communities that know each other and work together, that would in turn form alternative communication networks, exchange systems, information circuits, routes of knowledge and resources, and eventually, alternative institutions run by the same communities, what amounts to, at bottom, another society. Such a project makes one thing very clear: we cannot wait for this system or this society to fall before we begin to create a new one.
IV. Left Politics in the US
What does this have to do with us? What does it mean to be an “adherent” of the Sixth? We have established that the US and Mexican populations share and suffer under the same neoliberal capitalist system. We have looked at how the Zapatistas are facing that system and the state of permanent crisis it brings, specifically by creating a new collective subjectivity, new organizational forms adequate for that subject, and new conceptualizations—that of the “others” that we all are—as a way to overcome the isolation and fragmentation of the neoliberal society and to provide a “we” that can act effectively in that setting. What does this imply for us, for the US?
Left politics in the United States have been dominated by two primary fields of organization, electoral politics and the NGOification of the grassroots. For those disenchanted with electoral politics — something we can’t go into at depth here but speaking of, at minimum, dissatisfaction with the Democratic party or a fraudulent voting system, and, more profoundly, with the party system (nullified by the empire of money) and the crisis of representation in general (which has become a spectacle of simulation) — non-governmental and non-profit organizations have often been the refuge and catch-all for social concerns and activism. As has been written elsewhere  and an increasingly common critique, the NGO model has cornered much of left politics into a cycle of fundraising bureaucracy and philanthropic fashion: launching funding searches, funding requests, funding report-backs, organizations have to find money to pay people to find money, to tailor or at least cater political initiatives or campaigns to funding requirements and preferences, and to dedicate endless energy and human resources to donor relationships, agency applications, and creating images attractive to foundations. And while they may be run by nicer people than many of those found in an electoral system of representation, NGOs do not offer a more democratic model. They rarely have or are accountable to a community base or a population, they are not chosen by a base, they are hired by a board, and they tend to, by the nature of their funding structure and salary scale, convert politics into management, much the same way neoliberalism has converted state government into business management. This doesn’t mean they are not necessary in particular instances, but it hardly provides a model for alternative social organization. Philanthropic priorities and current trends have determined the focus and movement of these organizations, taking them through environmental justice, anti-nuke organizing, racial justice, gay rights, housing rights, youth development, anti-poverty initiatives, immigrant rights, anti-war movement, union organizing, etc. – all worthy causes in themselves, but also very limited by themselves. And no matter how long that lists gets, it will likely never arrive at a new system of social relations, of community self-determination, of collective self-government.
This style of leftist politics not only does not provide us with a “we” adequate for global anticapitalist struggle, but it in fact mirrors the fragmentation imposed by the market itself. What’s left? The tired ideologies of sectarianism and vanguardism have shown their utter inadequacy to address current global conditions; or have been so shown by their total rejection by people in struggle. Those discouraged by NGO politics and sectarian or vanguardist practices have in turn often taken refuge in solidarity activism, supporting those movements around the world who have managed to create something else, literally an-other’s politics. But the Sixth eliminates this last refuge. Conditions have gone beyond a solidarity structure where the privileged in the north help the poor of the south. The ethical responsibility of the cry “we are all others” lies on our shoulders, to recognize our own conditions, our own struggle, and to construct our own liberation. It is not solidarity groups, single-issue campaigns, and professionalized activist identities that we need, it is our own organized communities—whether those be residential or professional, geographic or virtual—and a project to connect those communities.
The Sixth did not start with the Other Campaign or the highly publicized emergence of the commanders of the Zapatista Army from the Lacandón Jungle. It started years ago when the Zapatista bases began to organize assemblies and implement self-governing structures in their communities, experimenting with rotating juridical duties, a collectively created school curriculum, community-determined conservation and land use laws, and to create a network of autonomous communities with the organizational power to make democratic decisions among hundreds of thousands of people. Their internal organization, with power firmly situated in the assembly, is what created the ability and the collective mechanisms to open themselves to the project of a much bigger network, that which they have determined necessary for combating global capitalism.
V. Conclusion: Behind Our Masks
At this point, isolation is our enemy. Global neoliberal capitalism is not simply global markets and trade policy; it is a social system that carries the disease of separation and self-obsession, a depoliticization of society and disintegration of the collective political subject. “Raise your head, and with it your gaze,” the Other Campaign has taught us; you will not find the answer inside, nor is it outside. It is between us, what we create, what is created when we meet.
It has been our collective analysis in El Kilombo that you can’t survive and struggle against capitalism at the same time by yourself; there is too much to do. You can’t know enough, have enough, or do enough to get through it safely and successfully—pay the bills, take care of your health, secure decent housing, develop healthy human relationships—much less change it. If the capitalist attack is to isolate the parts and destroy any semblance of a self-sustaining or self-determined habitat, and to thus force people into the exploitable relationship of capital, then the political project must be to create a terrain of resistance and a collective subjectivity to inhabit that terrain – whatever that means, wherever we are.
We face the question, as if the Zapatistas has asked us, do you believe that, behind our masks, we are you, or do you believe that, behind your masks, there is nothing?
1 Data from US Census Bureau. As reported in “En seis años baja el ingreso y hay 5 millones más de pobres en EU.” David Brooks. La Jornada, August 31, 2007.
2 “US Economy Leaving Record Numbers in Severe Poverty.” Tony Pugh. McClatchy Newspapers. February 23, 2007, and “Report: In U.S., record numbers are plunged into poverty” USA Today, February 25, 2007.
3 Data from the US Census Bureau, 2006.
4 “Wage Stagnation, Growing Insecurity, and the Future of the U.S. Working Class.” William K. Tabb. The Monthly Review. Vol. 59, no. 2. June 2007.
5 “Wages haven’t kept up with growth of U.S. economy.” Mark Weisbrot. Arizona Daily Star. September 3, 2007. The ½% increase in the average wage covers the period 1973-2006.
6 From the annual survey by the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation, as reported in The Washington Post, “Rise in Cost of Employer-Paid Health Insurance Slows.” Christopher Lee. September 7, 2007.
7 Data from US Census Bureau. As reported in “En seis años baja el ingreso y hay 5 millones más de pobres en EU.” David Brooks. La Jornada, August 31, 2007.
8 According to RealtyTrac as cited at http://www.democracynow.com, current figures show home foreclosures continuing to rise with more than 155,000 families losing their homes to foreclosure this year, double the number over the same three-month period last year. April 30, 2008.
9 “Foreclosed: State of the Dream 2008.” Amaad Rivera, Brenda Cotto-Escalera, Anisha Desai, Jeannette Huezo, and Dedrick Muhammad. United for a Fair Economy, 2008.
10 Since this piece was written, Carlos Slim did indeed pass Bill Gates to become the richest man in the world. He was later passed by Warren Buffet in March of 2008. Data according to Forbes Magazine.
11 “US Economy Leaving Record Numbers in Severe Poverty.” Tony Pugh. McClatchy Newspapers. February 23, 2007, and “Report: In U.S., record numbers are plunged into poverty” USA Today, February 25, 2007.
12 Sites of some of the largest anti- or alter-globalization protests in the last 10 years.
13 Major Ana Maria, EZLN words of welcome at the First Intercontinental Encounter For Humanity and Against Neoliberalism. July 1996.
14 “The Fourth World War,” Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos. Published in Spanish in La Jornada, October 23, 2001. English version at http://www.elkilombo.org/documents/fourthworldwar.html. Translation Irlandesa.
15 “The World: Seven Thoughts in May 2003. Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos. English version at http://www.elkilombo.org/documents/seventhoughtsmarcos.html. Translation Irlandesa.
17 World Bank data from a report published October 19, 2007, as reported in La Jornada, “La apertura en el campo expulsó a un cuarto de su población: BM.” Roberto González Amador and David Brooks. October 20, 2007.
18 Data from INEGI (National Institute of Statistics, Geography, and Information), as reported by Roberto González Amador, “Mexico: The Informal Economy a Third of GDP.” October 14, 2006 [link].
19 World Bank data from a report published October 19, 2007, as reported in La Jornada, “La apertura en el campo expulsó a un cuarto de su población: BM.” Roberto González Amador and David Brooks. October 20, 2007.
20 Data from the U.S. Census Bureau. According to the 2006 census, there are an estimated 44.3 million Hispanics in the US, 64% of which are of Mexican origin.
21 As reported by members of the community El Tesorero, Zacatecas, in a meeting of the Other Campaign..October, 7 2006.
22 This information refers to the raids carried out in the spring of 2007 by ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and the long detention that many people faced before being deported, away from their homes and children.
23 Civil society is not used here inn the Gramcian sense; a more adequate translation would be “civilian” society. The term is used to distinguish citizens from the militarily organized Zapatistas.
24 See for example “The Non-Profit & The Autonomous Grassroots.” Eric Tang, [link]; also “’Action Will Be Taken’: Left Anti-intellectualism and Its Discontents.” Liza Featherstone, Doug Henwood, and Christian Parenti[link].