Translator’s Introduction: While this piece was written in 2005, we thought it was important to translate and circulate in order to help elevate the level of conversation and analysis around the Other Campaign which we have found to be extremely lacking as of late. That is, instead of the repetitive, disoriented, and somewhat tedious critiques and commentaries of the EZLN’s role in the Other Campaign, ranging from attacks from disgruntled social democrats to the vacuous defenses by sycophantic "followers," Gutierrez here goes straight to the singular importance of the Other Campaign, taking on serious questions and confronting timely issues which arise in the construction of a political network, the constitution of a collective subject, and the determination of common actions. When viewed in this light, and despite the hopes of its detractors, the Other Campaign will not disappear from view; it cannot disappear because it remains firmly engrained at a certain limit point between the innovations and constrictions of contemporary political imagination; as such, the Other Campaign remains central to the limit point which we all inhabit and out of which we all must create.

On the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle; The Other Campaign

Raquel Gutiérrez Aguilar*

December 2005

From Herramienta (http://www.herramienta.com.ar/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=339&mode=thread&order=0&thold=0

Translation by El Kilombo Intergalactico

In the following pages I will develop some ideas about two key issues I consider relevant and which are emphasized in the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle and in other documents related to the Other Campaign. The first is the question of what it means to initiate “another way of doing politics,” and the second is related to who and how the Other Campaign will be implemented. I present these ideas without any intent to provide final answers, but rather to examine possible arguments that open new questions and point to possible problems.

What does it mean to commit oneself to “another form of doing politics?

To begin with, I introduce and take on Rhina Roux’s formulation, who states, arguing for the significance of the “political:”

“the understanding of politics as an activity referring to the State, as an action oriented toward the control of the State apparatus, whether that be as means or ends...forms part of the political imaginary of modernity that accompanies the existence of the sovereign nation-state and its delimited territory.” [2]

It is precisely this political imaginary that the EZ has tried to break through in its public political practice of now nearly 12 years. With the publication of the Sixth Declaration, the zapatistas once again return to this point of view. That is, in Section IV of that document, “How we see our country which is Mexico,” the zapatistas critique that social sector self-designated as the “political class,” comparing it to a bunch of shopkeepers. The “political class,” according to the zapatistas, is composed of traditional party leadership, politicians at all levels of governance, federal and state representatives and senators, etc.; that is, by the group of men and women who, through political parties, occupy State offices from which they, at their own discretion, make decisions that negatively affect the “humble and simple” of the Mexican population.”

Having established this basic distinction as that which divides Mexican society, the zapatistas ask, “are we saying that politics are no good?” to which they immediately respond, “No, we are saying that this politics is no good.” That is, in my understanding, what the zapatistas criticize and object to is the liberal politics of the formal procedural democracy where the prerogative to make and execute decisions belongs to a group of individuals who, once the electoral moment has passed, are not accountable to even a minimal social control. This is precisely what they distance themselves from: the multiple phenomena of usurpation/substitution of social will by the delegation of popular representation, even when there are “clear rules” that permit this form of alienation of social sovereignty. The Other Campaign intends to respond to this phenomena as well as to“do politics another way,” which means, above all, to not get trapped in exercises of the delegation of social sovereignty. This in turn implies, under current social organizational forms, not centralizing political activity in the State, its institutions, or any of its corollaries. To be able to think of society not from the perspective of the State but rather from the autonomous self-organization of society’s complexity is a contribution from Mesoamerican as well as Andean indigenous traditions that the EZ recovers in the 6^th Declaration.

Having established this basic distinction between “the political class,” whose activity is centered in the administration of public resources through the State, and those that do not take or follow that path, the zapatistas represent the latter, those who resist the decisions made by the former, appealing in classic terms to basic classifications, though broadening the realm of “resistances” to other problematics and sectors: indigenous, workers of the city and country, students, women, homosexuals, lesbians, transsexuals, and others, priests and nuns that are not with the rich, all those referred to as “social strugglers.” The common thread in the acts of resistance among these diverse contingents of men and women is their challenge or insubordination to neoliberal domination. That is, these are all people that see themselves affected by the decisions of the political class and that have recently and in various ways deployed their capacity to intervene directly in the public realm through protest, struggle, and resistance against the decisions of those above.

For all of the above reasons it is clear that the zapatistas are not looking to build another political party that would someday confront the neoliberals in the electoral realm. What the zapatistas have said before and say again now is that they don’t want power—state power—although they do want to transform social relations, to challenge the diverse relations of domination and objecting to the exploitation of labor currently in fore in the country. That is, in an extremely tense electoral period in Mexico, one year before elections organized by a non-PRI government, the zapatistas burst into public space with their own plan, affirming once again that they do not intend an electoral takeover of the State, nor do they fight to impose control through some extra-institutional means. What is evident in the Sixth Declaration is that the zapatistas’ interest in contributing to the transformation of the social relations of domination and exploitation currently existing more generally in the country, not only those that apply to the indigenous peoples.

It is in this sense that we can understand the significance of what the zapatistas are alluding to when they speak of “an ‘other’ politics.” They refer to a group of practices that attempt to guide relationships between people, as they understand politics as a way of organizing social coexistence starting from some basic principals, “everything for everyone” and “rule by obeying” among the most important. They understand politics not as an activity specifically oriented toward the ordering of society by way of the administration of things, but rather as an ability to configure relationships between people in order to later establish relations with things. [3]

This is a central point of the zapatista document. An “other politics” does not consist of developing a platform for how it will govern once in office; it does not specify how it will administer resources or organize social life as a governing body. An “other politics” rather means to produce a “we” among those that do not benefit from neoliberal plans and policies—that is, among the majority, to establish a limit between those that decide and command and those that suffer the consequences of these decisions and commands. An “other politics” will take place, according to the EZ, through the “Other Campaign,” which basically offers a name for the desire to connect a common discontent, contributing first discursively and later organizationally to the production of a dissident “we” that can challenge neoliberalism. This challenge is not offered as an alternative management of the country, but as a practical and autonomous challenge to those “unsuitable” decisions of the current governing structures, facilitating new ways of organizing social coexistence.

In a certain sense, then, the Other Campaign does not present itself as a classic ideological agreement, but rather a commitment to struggle that “unwraps” itself over time. This commitment is based in the possibility of joint, linked, coordinated actions between different people belonging to diverse social sectors against a “them” that was clearly defined as of the publication of the document entitled “The Impossible Geometry of Power” which foregrounded the Sixth Declaration: the Mexican political class in its totality and the “gentlemen of money.” [4]

Who is the subject of the Other Campaign

This said, and according to the way the EZ has organized this call to society “below and to the left,” the subject of the Other Campaign is the group of men and women, organizations, groups, collectives, and peoples that have adhered to the Sixth Declaration and that have participated in some way in the activities, basically discussion-based, held up until now: attending the preparatory meetings or the plenary, sending letters, etc. In this sense, then, the subject of “Other Campaign” is that segment of the Mexican population that has configured something like a broad, loose, asymmetrical network, connecting individuals and collectives, social organizations and political groups with a stable, hierarchical political-military structure—that of the zapatistas. The pre-existing commitment among all of these groups is the collective acceptance of the necessity to implement “another form of doing politics” that does not exhaust itself in the electoral moment or procedure and that attempts to modify “neoliberal” social relations. `

The existence of this network in process of construction is founded, in my view, on two principal elements. First, in the action of subscribing to the Sixth Declaration, that is, in being part of an ideological agreement that can define a first level for a broad “we”: “We as adherents and subscribers to the Sixth Declaration...” The second, and I think this is the most important, consists of the fact that this asymmetrical network-in-constitution must acquire a material presence, and thus a concrete existence, rooted in the actions that it is capable of carrying out. And here is where things get complicated: in order to give body to an agreement of this type that facilitates the material existence of network, it is necessary to recuperate certain organizational traditions of the indigenous peoples, which implies abandoning another group of practices common to the political left throughout the country.

Specifically on this point is where the asymmetry of the network is manifested most dramatically. One part of the network—at this point an entity still hypothetical and basically discursive—is constituted by the EZ, which has its own plan for how to conduct itself within the scene of “the Other Campaign,” which it itself convoked and initiated. The other nodes of the network are not in a similar situation.

What this implies then, via the constitution of a network, is the production of a sense of belonging to something that goes beyond the local struggle, and confronting the difficulty of doing this in a country like Mexico where the unification of “popular” social energy has long been produced and pushed by the State [5] through the use of the Mexican nation as a totalizing recourse that establishes, delimits, and imposes just that sense of belonging. [6] For that reason, the goal of the constitution of a subject of the “Other Campaign,” as I understand it, consists in producing a new sense of belonging at the same time that it collectively constructs the material and symbolic “entity” to which the diverse groups that have signed onto the Sixth Declaration have subscribed; the Mexican nation, as opposed to a State occupied by the “political class,” functions in this case as a discursive bridge to these ends.

However, for this network-in-process to acquire a material presence that gives each group and sector a sense of belonging and connection, there must be a moment of joint action. In other words, it is necessary that the network-in-process be capable of assuming an end that can be undertaken and achieved in a collective fashion. Only through a collective action, which would effectively define us as capable of collective ends and as capable of recognizing ourselves in the actions of others oriented towards common ends, can we construct a network of autonomous groups, collectives, and individuals.

That is, the relation between “differents” can be produced in terms of solidarity or mutual aid, as in the case where the EZ supported the struggle of the IMSS (Mexican Institute of Social Security) workers last October; or it can b e constructed in a broader scene where it produces unities rooted in collective actions taken to achieve objectives that are truly common. The first step, which has already been taken by the EZLN in the framework of “the Other Campaign,” is the promotion of solidarity links in and for the struggle of each specific sector. The case mentioned above of EZ support for the IMSS workers is a demonstration of this, although on this occasion the limits of such a relation were also revealed: there is somebody who struggles—and thus makes decisions and organizes the forms of struggle—and there is the rest of the group, or the network, which “supports” or is “in solidarity with” the mobilized contingent, participating in the actions that that contingent convokes.

Within the second alternative, that referring to the construction of a scene where the network as a whole is capable of taking on common objectives and coordinating actions to reach those objectives, we find “the journey of delegate X” throughout the entire Mexican Republic, which is to take place between January and June of 2006.

It is in this sense that I understand the document published by the EZLN November 23^rd, where they explain how their organization will function in the framework of the “Other Campaign.” First, the EZ explicitly assumes as its responsibilities within the Sixth: 1) to make agreements and alliances with other leftist political forces; 2) to organize an intercontinental encounter; and 3) to support other struggles so that they advance. In addition, they explain that they have designated a Sixth Commission of the EZLN to link with other groups and people within “the Other Campaign.” This commission is now known as “Enlace Zapatista.” That is, it is the Sixth Commission that, for now, will make the links between distinct groups and sectors, although they also say that “”when the Other decides,” the Sixth Commission will cease to do this work—that of being the general link and the maintaining the page of adherents—at which point “Enlace Zapatista” will dedicate itself solely to the participation of the EZ in “the Other Campaign.” In technical terms, the formulation is impeccable: as it is the EZ that has played a highly relevant role in the convocation and organization of the “Other Campaign,” it is this organization, or the Sixth Commission specifically, that will initially take responsibility for linking the different adherents. When there is greater capacity within the network, the Sixth Commission will then function only as EZ representation in the Other Campaign. The practical question is, however, how can the network as a whole take on this capacity of self-constitution?

On this point I return to the question of how it is possible that a network constitutes itself as such. I believe that in order for a social network to take on a concrete existence it must go beyond an explicit verbal agreement, such as being leftist, not attempting to accumulate social force in order to take public offices, etc. Rather, it needs to launch common actions destined to resolve problems and satisfy necessities that are equally common. To the extent that a network is not just a rigid structure where functions are organized and tasks assigned but rather a collection of mobile links and connections that are tightened or deployed intermittently in order to achieve autonomously defined goals, the biggest problem I see here is how the network can provide itself these ends. Perhaps via the journey of the Sixth Commission throughout Mexican territory, what so far is has been deemed the “National Plan of Struggle,” an agreement and objectives of this kind can be produced, taking into account though that this particular method doesn’t contribute to diminishing the “asymmetry” between the EZ and the other nodes in the network as the EZ would be the only organization that had relationships with all of the others.

In this regard, some considerations. If the issue is constructing a network among distinct groups and collectives with the perspective of establishing connections in order to later wage struggles with common goals, this once again brings up a question already posed: the difficulty of constructing and constituting an “us” capable of a collective sense of belonging that encompasses socially and geographically diverse groups, collectives, and localitites.

Within what have been the first actions developed in the framework of the “Other Campaign,” such as the collective celebration of Day of the Dead, which resignified this date as a day of resistance and remembrance for those killed, disappeared, or taken prisoner for political reasons, a series of questions have been presented that exemplify the previously mentioned difficulties. In particular, there are conflictive points that have presented themselves paradoxically in relation to what is meant by the expression “to come to an agreement.” [7]

As I understand it, “coming to an agreement” consists of carrying out a series of deliberations that permit us to launch joint initiatives.

However, at least in the Andean indigenous communities, this “coming to an agreement” has a prior premise: there is an “us” already constituted—at least in the imaginary—that can launch a determined action, with the result that what is deliberated is related to the manner in which it will be carried out. This is a methodological and cosmovisional question: there can’t be action without a subject. Thus, so that its worth the trouble to deliberate about what must be done, it is first necessary to establish who—or who is the “we”—that is going to do it. This is the beginning of a general agreement.

In contrast to this, and in the most traditional form of leftist urban politics, the cart is generally put before the horse. That is, first discussed is the point we want to reach via common action, leaving aside the decisive issue of who, in the plural, will implement it. This is the classic form in which parties and political groups behave: first they enter an incredibly long, procedural, contractual discussion debating the forms by which they will come to an agreement, a discussion which most often consists of and disguises a struggle over rivalries related to who will be the hegemonic subject of the action to be agreed upon. That is, hidden within the procedural complications is the difficulty that a “federation of groups” will be able to come to a decision on a determined action. This happens in a great variety of ways, though in general the implicitly complicated production of an “us” that is not explicit, even temporally, tends toward exhaustive discussions trying to establish definitions on what one has in common with the others, resulting in a “contractual” unification: small distinct groups that confederate to form a equally precisely defined greater entity. This process closes, defines, and identifies. That is, it fixes the action of unification of the distinct groups, alienating and inscribing this unification in reality as something different from the action of each and all involved, as well as opening the door to delegated representation of that totality.

Andean and also Mesoamerican indigenous traditions generally employ a common agreement on action or collective struggle in order to meet a certain need. In this form of doing things, the “us” is presupposed; “what we need is to overcome such and such necessity.” [8]

I identify the first form of coming to common agreement outlined above as the classic urban mercantile form, which strongly resembles the contractual modes where everyone acts as “one” with “full sovereignty” and through contract “cedes” areas of that sovereignty; that is, one is obligated to comply with certain accords. In contrast to this, the second form of “coming to an agreement,” seen in the Andean communities in particular, attempts to sketch this agreement in community form: to the degree that each domestic unit, each community, each ayllu “knows” and builds differently than the others, the “us” required for particular actions aimed at overcoming a common necessity is taken as a given, pending only the precise definition of the actions to be taken. For this same reason the most difficult part of the work is specifying, understanding, and sharing the “need to be met” and not so much differentiating between those present or specifying limits; the agreement is open and diffuse and at the same time, solid. Under this model of unification, the distinct elements begin from a perspective that assumes their collectivity and the fact that they are, at least intermittently, part of a broader “all.” These constitutive elements don’t lose their local autonomy by being capable of producing profound relationships between themselves. Under this organizational form, the idea is to produce intermittently the development of autonomous cooperative action that is dense and strong without being rigid. And this, in time, guarantees an expanding possibility of autonomy and strength for everyone.

I believe that these are the issues on the discussion table requiring an exhaustive reflection. The “Other Campaign” to implement “other forms of doing politics” is demanding organizational forms of a new type that are at the same time enriched by the self-determination produced by relationships created through a common existence, as well as by the exercise of autonomy by the indigenous peoples of our continent. In this way, if we limit ourselves to the criteria of the capacity to convoke and a level of group cohesion, it is clear that the principal subject of the “Other Campaign” is the EZLN. However, I understand that what the EZ is suggesting has more to do with the constitution of a broader “us.” And that is where the most difficult and urgent question arises: we, the adherents of the Other Campaign, what is it that we want to do? What is the need we propose to meet?

Sevilla-Colchester, December 2005

*The author is a Mexican mathematician and philosopher; she sent this piece especially for Herramienta.

[1]= http://www.ezln.org.mx/

[2]= Roux Rhina, La politica de los subalternos en Avalos Tenorio (coordinador), Redefinir lo político, UAM-X, México D.F., 2002.

[3]= Rhina Roux points out that the “politics of the subaltern” proposes “the rupture of domination” in such a way that “this politics does not debate a distributive justice with regards to the distribution of things...(but rather takes place) in the redefinition of the links between people.” op.cit.

[4] S.I. Marcos, The Impossible Geometry of Power, August 2005, http://www.ezln.org.mx/

[5] It is worth the trouble to reflect on the wide-ranging experience of the PRI Mexican State to co-opt/include, subordinate, and denaturalize transformative social energy via the discretional use of institutions. I won’t do this in this piece, but I want to note the importance I confer on this aspect.

[6] On this issue Carlos Montemayor’s analysis on the manner in which the Mexican Sate instituted “social dissolution” as a crime in the Penal Code, qualifying dissidence as penal punishment. See “Autonomía, principio y antagonismo en la lucha indígena” en, Colectivo Situaciones, Bienvenidos a la Selva, Ediciones Tinta-Limón y UNIA, Buenos Aires, 2005.

[7] In relation to “coming to an agreement,” there is a long and continuing tradition on the urban partisan left that consists of opposing any “deep” discussion with a series of tremendously complicated procedural issues: who has the right to speak, how use of the word should be regulated, to what point the agreements made are binding, how and to what measure previous agreements can be modified, and a very long etcetera that makes enormously difficult any real discussion of the points which motivated the meeting. It is as if a dense layer of procedural difficulties impedes the discussion of the root topics.

[8] In the gas wars of Bolivia in 2003, for example, many of the documents put out by the CSUT CB that expressed in that moment the practical unification achieved by the Aymara indigenous communities with regard to road-blocking actions, began by saying, “we the men and women of the 19 Paceña provinces,” or, “We, the Aymara nation...mobilized for the defense of gas...’ etc.