“They say they’re worried about fraud, but what about the 30 million people that don’t believe in the politcs of above and abstain from voting, who’s worried about them?”

“Our problem is not increasing our numbers but increasing our thought. That machos (like us) learn from the gay movement; mestizos have to learn from indigenous. We couldn’t see everything when we wrote the Sixth, but then we met you and began to learn.”
—Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos

This is a more or less chronicle-like, blog-style account of the North in October, including the states: Sinaloa, Baja California Sur, Baja California Norte, Sonora, and Chihuahua.

Ports of Sinaloa
Mothers of the Disappeared & the new Karavan
National Indigenous Congress
Their Border Crossed Our Land
Death Pact
Tijuana
Signs of Empire
The Color of the Heart
Chihuahua
Ciudad Juarez
EZLN quotes
A Yaqui Testament

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The very first stop on the Other Campaign’s journey to the north of the country is Teacapan, a tiny town of shrimpers, boiling hot, and maybe 50 people gather in the town square. In the North things are bigger—signs, buildings, skies, people... in the humble places we visit they look like Kansans, color worker-brown, they drive old rattly pick-up trucks, women wear modest shirtwaist dresses, patterned, mid-calf; the men wear button down shirts, wranglers, cowboy hats, cowboy boots, eyeglasses from the early 80s, flat on top with great big slightly tinted lenses... driving up through Sinaloa there is a strange combination of tractors and palm trees...

The port of Mazatlan, Sinaloa is a shrimping area, but what was once the biggest community shrimp-collective in the area has collapsed; the area is now controlled by just a few large industries. In Teacapan the shrimpers are essentially being "evicted" from the seas because, they are told by authorities, natural resources must be "protected." In Dautillos, a tiny port town, the people of the community report that there have even been laws passed banning small shrimping boats from working for “security” reasons—the danger that they may tip over, this “concern” applying to people who have fished these seas for centuries. In both cases, large industries continue to exploit the seas freely, bringing in huge quantities of shrimp and fish every day, and have lowered the price of shrimp to an unsustainable level. The idea here of course is that the shrimp collectives break on the low price of shrimp, and once the industries have a complete monopoly the price will skyrocket and the local people, in addition to not being able to fish for shrimp, now won’t be able to buy it either. In addition, here in Dautillos, near this poor population, the municipality has established a trash dump—the smell is overwhelming and the biting flies attracted by the trash attack any living thing like an army—we are sieged with itchy bites in the afternoon we spend here. They say the kids get sick from so many bites.

In Mazatlan, in the plaza of a PAN (far-right conservative party) governed city, a young woman in a beautiful ball gown and coifed blond hairdo takes the mic. At first you think its a small-town beauty queen and then you realize that she’s a he and he’s in drag and the whole scene, in conservative Mazatlan, Sinaloa, turns into something wonderful and very Other.

In the North, the rule of narco-trafficking and the complicity of authorities, either direct or through permissability, is mentioned repeatedly. In Mazatlan they state that area has converted from being a primary producer of poppy and marijuana to being a major consumer of ice, crack, cocaine. Or like Delegate Zero repeats back to them, “here where narco-traffickers govern and politicians sell, we should pay the narcos instead of the politicians, they steal less and work more. “
*********************

In Culiacan, Sinaloa, the Other Campaigns meet with Mothers of the Disappeared in Sinaloa, who don’t yet know much about the Other Campaign, but, listening to the Delegate Zero and members of the caravan, they voice their unconditional support, “now we are vigilant and attentive to everything that is struggle. Our sons taught us this through their disappearances.” They give a banner with pictures of their sons to the caravan to carry along the way. At this meeting members of the caravan also talk: a FPDT (Popular Front in Defense of the Land) representative from Atenco tells about the police raids in May, the CNI (National Indigenous Congress) talks about the decision of the CNI to subscribe to the Sixth Declaration and participate in the Other Campaign, somebody from alternative media, from a community radio who was in Atenco when the police attacked, expresses solidarity in pain, the agony they felt hiding in houses watching their companeros get beat nearly to death live on TV. A woman from the Comite M28 of Guadalajara, a group dedicated to getting the political prisoners taken at the G8 protests May 28, 2004 in Guadalajara out of jail, speaks, “we hear your pain too,” she says, even when our companeros get out of jail, she explains, their lives are destroyed, to return to daily life and struggle is very difficult. The son of a well-known leader of the student movement in the 60’s speaks, a representative from UNIOS, an urban grassroots organization in Mexico City that works on creating and organizing their own affordable housing communities, follows. All speak of the Other Campaign as a “we,” until the Mothers of the Disappeared begin to do the same. Here in this hot little room in Sinaloa, Atenco meets alternative media, Mothers of the Disappeared meet the kids of other social strugglers of the same era. Delegate Zero reads each name of the disappeared out loud, “we have to learn to name our own people, and we have to begin now.”

**********************

In the reinitiation of the tour of the Other Campaign heading north, the CNI (National Indigenous Congress), among other groups, accompanies the EZLN at each meeting. CNI representative Don Juan Chavez, a leader of the indigenous Purepechas of Nurio, Michocan , speaks at many of the meetings, and from his discourses we can piece together how the CNI has been creating another “nation” in practice. He describes the history of the indigenous struggle, one lasting over 514 years, in particular in its evolution over the past few decades: the diverse and repeated attempts by various bodies—starting with the the InterAmerican Indigenous Institute in 1960, then the Department of Indigenous Affairs, the InterAmerican Development Fund, the World Bank, various multinational corporations, international financial groups, etc. to assimilate indigenous culture, to title communal lands and make them available as private property and vulnerable to expropriation through debt, to implement integrationist education policies, to remove the land rights and redistribution won in the Mexican revolution and defined in the 1917 constitution. The passage of NAFTA in 1994 and now the globalization of neoliberal capitalist policies further concentrate wealth and destroy the “mother earth” of which the indigenous are guardians. But capitalism is not only a threat to indigenous peoples, Don Juan adds, but to society itself and to the life of the earth—plants, animals, rivers, oceans, lands, soils. We all have a place, a territory, to defend, he says, in the cities, you have the barrios and neighborhoods, in the country, our communities and pueblos.

Don Juan explains that the CNI ratified the San Andres Accords as the constitution of the indigenous peoples. [The San Andres Accords are the agreements signed between the EZLN and the Mexican government in 1996 which the Zedillo government (1994-2000) later reneged upon, refusing to send the Accords to congress where they would be made law. The Fox administration (2000-2006) finally sent the Accords to congress where they were modified drastically, essentially diluted to meaninglessness, and passed favorably by all three primary political parties. The CNI, along with many others, indigenous and non-indigenous, in the country, considered the passage of the “counter-reform” a betrayal of the Accords, of the Zapatista negotiations with the government, and of the good-faith dialogue the indigenous communities had entered into with the State] At the 18th Meeting of the CNI in Zirahuen, Michoacan, the Accords were re-ratified as the constitution of the indigenous peoples of Mexico and the counter-reform [which after its passage in congress was sent to the states to be implemented as legal reforms] denounced as a betrayal and a humiliation in which indigenous peoples were recognized only as subjects of “interest” (that is, objects with “prices” that can be bought and sold—or sold to) instead of subjects of public right, as defined in the San Andres Accords. At the Zirahuen meeting, the CNI decided to implement the Accords “in practice,” “derechos en los hechos,” that is, in the autonomous exercise of rights, demonstrating the Zapatista slogan “we do not have to ask permission to be free,” and essentially making the San Andres Accords valid through self-organization and self-implementation.
**************************

In these meetings in the north, the “nation” as the CNI and the indigenous communities of the northeast see it clearly does not follow nation-state boundaries. The T'ohono O’dham
nation, in a meeting in Magadalena, Sonora, describes how their territory, their home for thousands of years, is crossed by the US-Mexico border between Arizona and Sonora, and how the increasing militarization of the border as a result of the Bush administration’s anti-immigration policies have drastically increased the disruption, repression, and violence in their communities. Many indigenous tribes and communities of the North refuse recognition of the border. At the Magdalena meeting the O’dham and Cherokee tribes switch between indigenous languages and English as fluidly as the Purepecha and Nahuatl switch between their languages and Spanish. Some speak at least three languages, others have to be translated from O’dham to English to Spanish or in reverse, and the mixture is an important moment in the Other Campaign: it destroys the border as an essential divide, as a hierarchy of geographies, making clear both the ephemerality of its reality and the absurdity and abuse of its physicality. These meetings, which come right after the Tijuana encounter with the Chican@s, once again throw the project described in the Sixth Declaration, to create a “new Mexican nation” and a “new constitution” into new light, or perhaps into a new shadow. What does a nation, what does a “Mexico,” mean where its physical boundaries are completely deterritorialized, where the border is dramatized, hyper-militarized, by those “above” and transversed a thousand ways by those below?

Mexico is the number one recipient of remittances in Latin America, receiving 20 billion dollars a year from family members living in the United States (data from the InterAmerican Development Bank). But that money is a mere 10% of what these migrants produce in the United States; that is, 90% of what they earn, what they produce, stays in the US. The movement and production of “below” is far, far beyond what nation-state ideology and physicality can handle. Tribes and lives, workers and economies traverse that border, pointing to a subject existent but not defined, not categorized, not identified. It is as Subcomandante Marcos quoted Elias Contreras, an indigenous detective for the EZLN, who crossed the Rio Grande, met the people on “the other side,” and said, “there are other things, not just ‘mexicanos’ and ‘americanos,’ one can be something else.” What is this thing that exists from Chiapas to Chicago? Who is the subject that says, as a Chicana participant, speaking with pride of her Mexican identity and her LA home did from the stage in Tijuana:

Aqui estamos
y no nos vamos
y si nos echan? and the crowd at the meeting of the Other Campaign and the Other Side yelled: in reply, for all the Other Campaign, Mexicans and USAmericans to hear:
REGRESAMOS!
**********************

The Cucapa and the Kiliwa, indigenous peoples living in small communities in Baja California Norte close to Mexicali near the US border, are near extinction. Officially any population with less than 5,500 people is at risk of extinction. The Cucapa have less than 500 people, the Kiliwa a mere 54 families, and only four elders still speak their native language. They have lived and fished there for 90 centuries, now they are harassed, threatened, jailed when they try to make fishing trips. The "wildlife" of the area must be protected, the authorities say, and with a irony cruel and stupid beyond the limits of cynicism, "there are fish species at risk of extinction." In one of the most dramatic moments of the Other Campaign so far, the Kiliwa state that they have made a death pact: their women will not birth any more children. They will not bring anymore Kiliwa into a world where they can survive or live with dignity.

Listening to this story, the EZLN stops the meeting, meets privately with community leaders, and proposes an encampment of Zapatistas and others from the Other Campaign to accompany the community during fishing season, from late February to early May, on their fishing trips. The community accepts, and the Other Campaign asks the Other from the Other Side (the US Other Campaign of Mexicans and Chican@s) to support the encampment. Here, in the spirit of the Other Campaign, “an attack on one is an attack on all,” will take concrete form; or, as Sergio Rodriguez Lascano puts it in this month’s Rebeldia magazine, “Anticapitalism is summed up today, from my perspective, in the struggle so that the Kiliwa people don’t disappear.”
**********************

Today in Tijuana, chican@s from Los Angeles told their stories to the Delegate Zero, in English, many of them, in Spanglish others, some in heavily US-accented Spanish. The Sixth Commission and the Caravan arrived at the site of the meetings, an old crumbling theater near the US-Mexico border, to be greeted by the reality of migration and migrant lives, the ugly physicality and actual porosity of the border, and the power of movements that cross and are crossed by it. The Brown Berets from Watsonville were doing security, Mexican adherents of the Other Campaign from Tijuana hosting at the theater, young people, mostly latin@s and chican@s from LA and San Diego, coordinating logistics, and the Other Campaign meets a diversity and reality it honestly did not know existed—a difference existing already within itself as the Other. The adherents from “the other side” describe experiences of racism and repression, of being scorned for speaking Spanish in elementary school and losing the language, of having to move in bicycle instead of vehicle because they are stopped, harassed, and heavily fined by police. Several mention the riots in LA after the police beating of Rodney King.

The learning curve this day for the Sixth Commission and the Other Campaign is so steep it is dizzying. The way that indigenous people in one corner of the country have always apologized for their “chueco” (crooked) Spanish, is now being repeated by kids from the another corner, over the border, apologizing for their limited Spanish. Suddenly the fact of speaking English and not Spanish is a sign of marginality, not privilege; living north of the border has more to do with being part of a marginalized community than a rich country; it becomes evident that being migrant is not being a foreigner waiting to go home, but being an active subject of a globalized economy. In the afternoon they stream in video from San Diego so that people without papers who can’t cross the border freely can join the meeting. Mexico is not a geographical place, the EZLN reaffirms today, the border on the Rio Bravo doesn’t its start or its finish, but neither do the outlines of Aztlan. Mexico doesn’t stop at the border, the EZLN repeats back to the people it has listened to all day, but neither does it stop in California, because the people in Chicago are going to say, no, Mexico is here too! The Otro Lado (the “Other Side,” how the Other Campaign refers to the US) becomes the same side, and those who have migrated become not those who have “left” Mexico but those who have “deterritorialized” what is “home.”

That these latin@ kids from barrios in southern California can explain their experiences in English, their first or only language, to Subcomandante Marcos of the EZLN is a moment so...big it’s almost impossible to grasp the significance of the moment, except that you can feel it, like the world just gave a sharp jerk forward on its axis and caught up with itself. [Like we said in our initial analysis when we subscribed to the Sixth Declaration nearly a year and a half ago: “Para ser mas específicos, y como bien ustedes ya conocen, en un gran numero de los Estados Mexicanos mas del 60% del producto bruto estatal proviene de remesas de Mexicanos (nacionales y no nacionales) que viven en los Estados Unidos. Si esta “otra fase” será una lucha por la reconstrucción de la nación Mexicana, tendrá que darle una figura concreta y no solo en la retórica a los Mexicanos (nacionales y no nacionales) que viven en los Estados Unidos. Esto para poner énfasis en lo que para nosotros ya es una realidad: la nación Mexicana jamás podrá volver pensarse como lo que existe dentro del territorio Mexicano.” ..."To be more specific, and as you know well, in a large number of Mexican states more than 60% of the state gross product comes from remittances from Mexicans (national and not) that live in the United States. If this “other phase” will be a struggle for the reconstruction of the Mexican nation, it will have to give this nation concrete figure, not only a rhetorical one for Mexicans (national and not) that live in the United States. This to put emphasis in what for us is already a reality: the Mexican nation will never again be able to imagine itself as something existing within Mexican territory.”]
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In the north the US influence is heavy—in the resorts, in the “white colonies” built on what were public beaches, in the signs in English, in the tourism, of all types—eco-tourism/indian-interest tourism/straight-up obnoxious resort tourism—in the advertisements for beach-front properties, condominiums, land for sale. “Extranjero,” foreigner, becomes confused with capitalism itself, and it’s not hard to see why where people have lost access to land, sea, mountain, and the livelihood that these imply while the Mexican government grants tax breaks and drops legal barriers to national and transnational companies building gated communities with golf courses and houses that start at a quarter million dollars and where local people are no longer allowed to enter.

Here it takes a critical strength and analysis to bring the enemy into focus and not fall into an anti-US rage and despair. There are sacred Indian sites that have been roped off with barbed wire and dotted with enormous high frequency antennas.There are toxic waste dumps brought from Arizona and dumped on indigenous land in northern Sonora, contaminating air and water supplies, there are large scale dams that flood farmlands, massive wind generators that change ecosystems and rake in profits that go straight up and out, devastating local economies. If it starts to sound cliché, it is because it is the same story as always and the same story everywhere.

But the analysis comes out, not always in the loudest voice, but it is always there, like when a16-year-old kid in El Centenario, Baja California Norte, says at one of the meetings, “Empire has no flags. It can be gringo, Mexican, French, it is globalized. And a woman from Baja California Norte, "foreigners are not the problem [per se], it is the fact we are not allowed to communicate with them," she says, communication is a basic human act of interaction, she continues, we are not allowed to be human with each other.

The EZ has repeatedly given the “color” analysis at its meetings in the north:
(paraphrased from EZLN discourse in Canon Onda, an indigenous community in Baja California Norte, and Hermosillo, Sonora)

"There is a new nationality that is not on the maps; it is that of money. And in that new nationality there are indigenous that think like whites, and whites whose hearts are brown. And these people that are here from all different places [gesturing to small but diverse racial and international contingent], we ask ourselves why are they here with us? And what would happen if we joined up with these companeros?”

[and later, in a story told in Magadalena, Sonora, to a meeting of various Indian peoples]
“Our oldest people, our oldest leaders tell the story that when the gods made the world they made the men and women of corn first, and they gave them hearts of corn. But the corn ran out and some men and women didn’t get hearts. But the color of the earth also ran out, and the gods began to look for other colors. So some people—white, red, yellow—got hearts of corn, and that’s why they’re here with us. Our eldest say that the people who didn’t get hearts later filled the empty space with money, and for these people it doesn’t matter what color they are, their hearts are dollar-green.”
**********************

We take the train from Los Mochis, Sinaloa, to Creel, Chihuahua. The land looks like Colorado, and first I think, this looks like the west of the US and then I think, well of course, it is one land after all, the fact that a border was drawn doesn’t change the terrain. This is land of the Raramuris, or Tarahumaras as they are commonly known. Both the EZ and the CNI in these meetings give summaries of the problems faced by the indigenous peoples we have visited, and the consistency and intensity of the destruction is striking (paraphrased from Delegate Zero and Don Juan Chavez): The Raramuri: where the land and the people are thirsty because of the privatization and thus deprivation of water, where deforestation means the forests are dying and thus the deer [sacred to the Raramuri people] is dying; the Cucapa and Kiliwa, not allowed to fish where they have fished for thousands of years; the Papagos, whose communal/ejidal lands were being taken away by expropriation laws; the T'ohono O'dham and the militarization of their territory which is crossed by border, and the toxic waste dump contaminating their land and sickening their people; the Seris, the militarization and threatened expropriation of their sacred Shark Island, and their poverty; the Yaqui, who are losing ancestral lands to national and foreign investors; the Pima, their land taken over by narcotrafficking and narco-market; the Yorime with no access to water, where the rich have taken over and privatized access to water sources; the Yiacura y Pericura (La Paz), the Kochimi (Guerrero Negro) that, having been forgotten so long, actually disappeared, we only saw their names on a plaque at the cultural center.

And each time the EZ names another people, they say, “and they thought they were alone, but we told them, you are not alone. Here we are, and not just the EZ, but every organization, pueblo, collective, and individual in the Other Campaign.”

City of Chihuahua: Mothers of the Disappeared. You have to hear them in their own voice.

**********************

Today in Ciudad Juarez, on the bridge that forms the border between Mexico and the US, the Sixth Commission of the EZLN, adherents of the Other Campaign from Chihuahua, Ciudad Juarez residents, and national and international supporters closed the transnational bridge for nearly one hour in support of the people of Oaxaca under attack now and for the last few days by federal police forces. Supporters from “the other side,” the US side, came across the bridge to join the protest. Under the Mexican and US flags waving futilely above, representatives of Mothers of the Disappeared, women from organizations working against the femicide in Ciudd Juarez, young people from Juarez and El Paso, and the EZLN meet and speak.

On the US side of the border the US Border Protection Agency and ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (formerly the INS, now under the Homeland Security Department) have posed for action between 15-20 riot police in green uniforms, (appearing to be military), 6-7 blue-uniformed border agents, several Texas county sheriffs, and a very fierce dog. A Border Patrol helicopter circled loudly over head, dipping down low over the meeting so we could see their digital cameras and stirring up dust and noise that covered the meeting. It circled and dipped again, so low I thought sure they were going to throw something, spray something, shoot something.

The EZ states, against the noise of the helicopter, the Other Campaign does not recognize this border, this flag, this helicopter.” And: Our companeros Zapatistas are informing us right now that they have closed the major highways in San Cristobal, Comitan, Altamirano, Palenque, and other cities in support of Oaxaca...” Companeros of the Other Side, there is no other side! Those that are on the other side are those above, in the White House, in Los Pinos (Mexican presidential residence), that is the other side.”

What is happening in Ciudad Juarez is called “systematic sexual femicide,” which means a systematic assasination of women who are tortured, mutilated, raped, and killed. Between 1993 and 2005 there were 442 homicides of this kind. Since 1980 Ciudad Juarez has become a major labor attraction for young women, due to the maquila industry there, the poverty in the rest of the country, and the preference of factory owners/managers for a socially vulnerable female labor force.

The disinterest and inaction of the authorities in these cases is outrageous, as is what seems to be the immunity/impunity of the police. We hear surprisingly little about this in the Juarez meetings. Later I’ll look up more information and send.

In the meeting following with Chican@s, students from Texas, agricultural workers from the border area, even a commission from a grassroots immigrant organization in New York speak of their experiences working in the US, in the similarity of contemporary conditions for agricultural workers to the conditions of the braceros (Mexican workers of mid-century contracted to work in the US during the WWII labor shortage). They talk about why they left Mexico, how it suits the Mexican government that they have left, supporting the Mexican economy with their labor from the US. Someone from Trabajadores Fronterizos gives dats: there are 5 million migrant agricultural workers in the US; 8 out of each 10 are Mexican; they bring in 90 billion dollars in profit to US agroindustry each year. A particularly thoughtful man says, “we have to begin to educate the Northamerican people about immigration, they don’t understand what it is about.” Many talk of their roots and their hearts in Mexico, but no one talks of going back. One says, “when we cross this border, we are just returning to our land,” referring to the false border that divided up peoples and communities. What is clear is that the transformation, the migrant reality, will not reverse itself—there will be no massive "return," literal or figurative; the only option is to create something new.

Delegate Zero at the end responds, recapping the significance of the place (the border), the purpose (Oaxaca) and the politics (other): Chiapas is now closer to El Paso than to Mexico City, or to Tuxtla Gutierrez (capital of Chiapas) for that matter. The point is that here on the US border, Chiapas has gotten closer to Oaxaca ...”

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EZLN quotes:

In Mazatlan, Sinaloa: “If we could unite these resistances we’d have enough power not only to detain what is happening, but to create something else. There would be excess!”

“In Chiapas kids die before they are born for the rest of the world, they don’t even have birth certificates, there is no record of their existence. We carried these deaths for years and no one paid any attention to us because we spoke Mayan language. So we got together to decide if we were going to die like animals or fight like men and women. January 1st, 1994, 5,000 insurgents took seven municipal capitals in Chiapas while the powerful were still hungover.”

In another moment Delegate Zero speaks of of the “cruda moral” or moral hangover politics suffers....strategy must be infused with ethics, and strategy must be kept in motion.... "It is time for the Other Campaign to define itself; everyone will have to go to, go find their companeros and ask them what kind of Other Campaign they want. It doesn’t matter if it’s one single person somewhere, we have to take their opinion into account. This is what sets the Other Campaign apart."

With the Comca’ac Nation, Indigenous Seris, Punto Chueco, Sonora: “when we were alone we had to fight with arms. But when we’re together with others we just need the word, a common agreement.”

Ensenada, Baja California Norte: “There is going to be an uprising in this country. I hope you don’t find out about it in the newspapers. We’ve come to ask you to be our companeros and fight with us.”

University of Sonora en Hermosillo: ...in our languages we don’t use “yo”, "I"; everything is “tik,” which means "nosotros", “we.” If pain is individual, healing has to be collective, healing is in the “tik.”

Magadalena, Sonora: "We were already dead, and we were called to become warriors, according to our legend. And since we were already dead, we became what we are, shadows. In the strictest sense this is what we are, shadow warriors ,or warriors of the shadow. On the first of January, 1994, on the wall of a bank in the city of San Cristobal de las Casas, appeared this message: 'Here we are, the dead of always, dying once again, but now in order to live.'”

In a Yaqui village in Sonora:the Yaqui Testament, the maximum honor and responsibility that can be endowed to Yaqui warrior, is delivered to Delegate Zero:

For you there will no longer be sun
For you there will no longer be night
For you there will no longer be death
For you there will no longer be pain
For you there will no longer be heat
nor thirst, nor hunger, nor rain,
nor wind, nor sickness, nor family
nothing for you to fear.

Everything will have ended for you except one thing:
the honoring of your duty, in the role that you are designated
There you will stay for the defense of your nation,
of your people, of your raza, of your traditions.

Do you swear to fulfill the divine mandate?
With these words the Yaqui captains hand
over the new investidurato the new officials that,
lowering their heads, respond:

Ehui. “Yes.”
*******************

Juramento Yaqui

Para ti no habra’ ya sol
Para ti no habra’ ya noche
Para ti no habra’ ya muerte
Para ti no habra’ ya dolor
Para ti no habra’ ya calor
ni sed, ni hambre, ni lluvia
ni aire, ni enfermedades, ni familia
nada para atemorizarte

Todo habra concluido para ti, excepto una cosa:
el cumplimiento del deber, en el puesto
que se te designe.
Alli quedaras para la defensa
de tu nacion, de tu pueblo, de tu raza,
de tuscostumbres

?Juras cumplir con el mandato divino?
Con estas palabras los capitanes
Yaquis otorgan la nueva investidura a los
nuevos oficiales que bajando la cabeza responden:

Ehui (si)