Mercedes Sosa, When I own the Land
Peasant, when I own the land,
It will happen in the world
The heart of my world
From the past, of all oblivion
I will dry with my tears
All the horror of the pity
And I will finally see you, peasant
Imagine you're watching TV on your house. One day, you see some people on your backyard cutting down your trees. Outraged you walk out and ask them what the hell is going on?!! Nobody answers your questions, they just keep doing what they have been told. You try to stop them but federal police takes you on the side, intimidate you verbally, enough to understand there's really no point.
Months later, you see people in yellow helmets measuring your backyard again. To make the process easier they take parts of the fence down and destroy the dog house you and your son built for the dog that keeps barking at these people until one of these workers decides to kick him on the ribs sending him shrieking by your glass door.
This time, you take the dog in, walk calmly to them and ask what is the problem. They ask you to step inside your house, that none of this concerns you. You reply that of course this concerns you, since it's your backyard. The man you're talking to, just laughs and says this is not your land, this is our land and we will dispose of it as we please.
You come inside your house and talk to your lawyer on the phone. He tells you there's a growing number of cases like this and that they will keep you updated on the overall process of justice.
In a moment of rage, you walk outside trying to stop this thing. Your house, years of building it bit by bit is being destroyed by some unknown force without a law. You demand the papers that allow this to happen. They show you some papers. They state you and your neighbours had a period where you agreed upon the construction of a highway beside a gold mine. When was this? The man shrugs and says, that's what the paper says. Sorry.
You call your neighbours. Start organising everyone. This will not happen.
At night, some people break into your neighbour's house. They take him away. You realize way too late, they have broken into your house too. A man all dressed in a commando suit, looks you in the eye and tells you, you'd better stop organising people or you will face your neighbour's fate.
The next day, trembling, you and your diminished number of neighbours stand in front of the tractors. Federal police, military and naval forces come by. They slowly start walking towards you, make some shots from their guns, slams some blows at your head and take you away as your wife cries in despair.
You start crying because your husband has been taken by some dark forces, he has disappeared, nobody knows where he was taken to. Construction in your backyard keeps going on. One of the soldiers guarding the neighbourhood has taken a long, slow look at your daughter. You shudder and send her to your mother's house. Your son comes very late at night, as you confront him, he tells you all of the sons are trying to get organized. That they are going to protect what is lawfully theirs.
Cameras and media come in the next day. You believe it's because injustice has made it to the TV! As you walk out, there's a tight circle of naval officers protecting the media and the figure within it. It's the president cutting the red ribbon in front of your backyard. "And hereby I declare this 'Ostula Mine of the People' inaugurated," three people including a marine officer clap.
You yell beyond all your might: "My husband has disappeared, people are getting killed! Please Mr. President!" The president looks at you, smiles and waves back. "Thank you!" Three federal policemen take you silently inside your house. They inform you they have killed your son because he was part of an organized crime group found with 5 slingshots and 62 pieces AKA 47 only used by drug lords. "Of course the AKA 47 were provided by us," he smiles as he pronounces these words. "So we basically suggest, you keep quiet or your daughter (at your mother's house) will suffer the consequences."
Your husband's lawyer calls you. The case is not moving. "We're sorry", it seems there's a higher force that's keeping the bureaucratic system locked in permits and it also seems some people were bribed to keep them shut."
After you bury your son, some neighbours show you a video. It shows how the army started to shoot at the houses indiscriminately, shouting and feeling powerful. This is how they killed your son, a woman informs you. "They were inside just talking, listening to music with their 5 slingshots. They were not even doing something against them."
A text message comes in your cell phone. It's an image of your daughter walking to school. "We're watching you, remember this or you know what's next."
You wake up. Nothing is real. Yet some facts are true in a parallel world.
Santa María de Ostula, or "place of caves" has lost a boy and the blood of so many people now, since 2008. The story is being repeated in San Francisco de Xochicuautla and in many towns through Mexico. Autodefensa or self-defense groups getting together to take care of organized crime and military abuses. Same but different issues.
Authorities find a way to work with them and promise to clean the states of drug lords. After these pledges are taken, some narcos are taken to jail. A few months later, self-defense are betrayed by the government and the commanders along the people working for the communities disappear one by one. The narcos are freed to take vengeance of those who set them on jail.
Around these issues, energetic reforms take place. Phantom laws are approved by the government. These small states, rich in vegetation and minerals are being explored and people are taken away from their lands. Machines come and show people in some printed papers they agreed to building of mines or roads. Tops of mountains are sliced away cruelly, like pieces of a pie eaten away by Peña Nieto and those benefitted from these practices.
People get organized. Drug lords and military act together, dismantling these groups. Journalists are killed, pits are filled with new dead bodies, boats with drugs arrive and leave by the houses of the heads of these states. Young women are raped, people have to pay just to live by.
Phrases like "To Live, we Die" stick to the general population. Death is no longer a threat because living without a land is the same as death. For people that live of the land, killing a jackal, fishing and eating the crops they raise is a way of surliving.
People get angry and start defending their lands. The government keeps sending more troops and the drug lords become more empowered by these secret alliances. Naval, military, narco and federal police intervene. They come into town to take away a brave commander still fighting for the self-defense groups. Gorillas on the top of vans and armoured vehicles start shouting and shooting as they drive in. The insurgent Cemeí Verdía Zepeda is taken. A boy dies with a bullet on his head and other people are hurt.
People wake up here every day wishing this was a bad dream. But everything, in this other Mexico, unfortunately is very real.
What people demand is justice. To keep their land, to recover those who have disappeared or murdered, from the government they ask to respect the way they work and live in their land.
On the video above, around minute 27.43 Agustín Vera, speaking about the events on this past July 17th, suffers a break in his voice. "Because we're so microscopic, nobody will be able to listen to us, but we are humans! We are people!"
And as I said before, either a town is called Ostula, Xochicuautla or Cherán the story is the pretty much the same:
Comments
Post a Comment