The unimaginable happened. The Zapatistas, led by their masked
commandantes and their enigmatic leader, Subcommandante Marcos,
finally entered the heart of the capital of the nation with which
they have been at war for seven years. Their entrance was remarkable
in that these rebels not only came unarmed but also with a welcome
from the president of the country that made them outlaws. "We
came here only to say we are here," Subcommandante Marcos told
an enraptured crowd of 150,000 in the Zocalo, the main square
of the capital. "We are a reflection and a cry and we will always
be there. We can be with or without a face, armed or without fire.
But we are Zapatistas as we will always be." He had arrived with
the 23 Zapatista commandantes on the back of an open lorry bearing
the slogan "Never again a Mexico without us". Helicopters circled
over as the caravan finally reached the end of its historic journey.
In an appeal to all of Mexico for a fairer society, he called
on "indigenous brothers and sisters, workers, peasants, teachers,
students, farmworkers, housewives, drivers, fishermen, taxi-drivers,
office workers, street vendors, gangs, the unemployed, journalists,
professionals, nuns and monks, homosexuals, lesbians, transsexuals,
artists, intellectuals, sailors,soldiers, athletes and legislators,
men, women, children, young people and old, brothers and sisters",
all to join with them. But despite the enormous turnout and the
success of the long march, the mood was not triumphalist in recognition,
perhaps, of the uncertainty that lies ahead. Before Marcos spoke,
other commandantes made brief appeals for greater respect for
indigenous people. Commandante Tacho told the crowd: "We are Mexicans,
too, so we say the homeland is ours as well," signing off as he
spoke in the name of the "Zapatista high command". Each read their
speeches, as they have done throughout the march, from spiral
notebooks and then took their places back in the line as Marcos
directed proceedings.
The
Mexican press was in no doubt as to the significance of the day.
"Marcos takes the capital!" said one paper. "They're taking the
plaza!" said another. La Prensa summed up the mood with the word
unimaginable". At dawn, the caravan of the Zapatistas and their
supporters was already breakfasting on tamales in a sports complex
on the outskirts of Mexico City where they had been billeted for
the last night of their 16-day pilgrimage from Chiapas. They had
come in pursuit of constitutional rights for the country's 10m
indigenous people, around 10% of the population, and yesterday
was the culmination of the journey that had taken them through
12 states. As the 2,100-mile, 16-day trek from Chiapas ended,
they were joined by public figures from around the world: human
rights ambassador Danielle Mitterand, Portuguese Nobel prizewinning
author Jose Saramago, and the French anti-multinational activist
Jose Bove. The Zocalo, the largest city square in the world after
Red Square, greeted them, but the only sights trained from the
rooftops and behind the belfries were those of the photographers
and camera crews from around the world and the only explosions
were of firecrackers and rockets. It was in 1914 that Emiliano
Zapata, the man who gave his name to the current movement, rode
in revolutionary triumph into the same Zocalo. There had been
rumours that the new Zapatistas would also gallop into the square
on horseback but this, like many of the rumours that have shrouded
the march and the Zapatistas, proved unfounded. But yesterday
Marcos and the Zapatistas did indeed stand below the balcony of
the palace where Zapata and Pancho Villa had greeted their own
adoring crowds nearly 90 years earlier. Throughout the morning
the street vendors there were busily selling their Zapatista masks,
T-shirts, mugs, jugs and recorded music, their Marcos scarves
and action dolls complete with pipe and balaclava, mixed in with
images of Che Guevara. Watching the Zapatistas on their final
push, Santos Orozco, 67, a canal boatman said: "They are the defenders
of the poor, not just the indigenous." His views were reflected
by many in the square.
The
Zapatistas finally marched on the capital, disdaining an invitation
issued over the weekend by President Vicente Fox to meet in the
presidential palace. Marcos accused Mr Fox of trivialising the
indigenous cause. "He wants to turn a serious movement into a
prime time event," said Marcos. "It would be a hollow media event."
The transformation of the Zapatistas from a tiny, ill-armed, barely
trained guerrilla fighting force to what is effectively an international
cultural movement was emphasised by the remarkable mixture of
supporters flocking the streets, from the capital's smartly turned-out
bourgeoisie to body-pierced and pink-haired punks carrying placards
proclaiming the Zapatistas as their inspiration, and dungareed
Italian anti-globalisers. Even hours before the march was due
to arrive, as bands played and Aztec dancers performed, the Zocalo
was crowded and alive with excitement. President Fox was not in
the Zocalo. However he was generous in his welcome, which he hopes
will bring him a major political gain with a peace accord. "Welcome
subcommandante Marcos, welcome Zapatistas, welcome to the political
arena," was his message. Not that Marcos is yet ready to take
off his mask and his guerrilla uniform. In a 20-minute address
to the crowd and the nation beyond, Marcos referred to the way
that the "first people" of Mexico had become the last in terms
of how they had been treated. "We are the people of the colour
of the earth. We ask you not to let another dawn break before
that flag has a place for us, we who are the colour of the earth,"
he said in reference to the gigantic Mexican flag that was billowing
from its pole in the centre of the Zocalo. His speech referred
by name to many of the dozens of Mexican indigenous peoples in
a list more poetic than polemical. But he made it clear that the
Zapatistas' presence was seeking a political response and they
wanted "the democracy, freedom and justice" which they felt they
had been denied for too long. While opinion polls do show overwhelming
support for the march, a peace accord and Mexico's need to act
over trampled indigenous rights, not everyone is sympathetic to
the Zapatistas. With the rebels already on the fringes of the
capital the head of the country's biggest employers' organisation,
Jorge Espina Reyes, called them "irresponsible utopian demagogues".
But in the square yesterday the banners and the T-shirts proclaimed
"We are all Marcos" and "You are not alone". For a moment at least,
the Zapatistas who have made such an astonishing physical and
metaphorical journey from Chiapas into the consciousness of the
world must have felt it was true.
