Skin of the Zapatistas
Skin of the Natives is a 12 assignment project documenting the indigenous communities of Mexico by photojournalist Saul Flores. Read the prologue.
Chp 1 // Rise
A crimson colored gate separates the ski-masked guards from an outside Mexico. The scraping sound of their aging hands gripping the cold steel threw an eerie shiver down my spine. The people, tall like stalks of corn and as black as the midnight shadows, stand firm as the protectors of the town. Behind the masked guards hides an entire village unified by the Declaration of the Jungle.
Bouquets of white flowers welcome the rebel from all over as they walk into their sanctioned communities. Even their flowers are protected here, laced onto the earth-red metal like a ribbon around a bouquet. My fear quickly heightens as I see my breath illuminated by the early morning moon.
For once, I arrived onto Mexican soil as an outsider, a foreigner stumbling his way through non-governed lands. There’s a rumor that a growing indigenous resistance is resurrecting in the jungle and mountains of Chiapas, threaded together by a single revolutionary cause. The movement was started and is still led by a mystic figure named Subcomandante Marcos, or Galeano, who’s been organizing for the past 20 years.
Marcos became a noble and gallant leader for the indigenous people of Chiapas. His persona, carefully crafted to lure the publics eye, has become an icon of resistance around the world. With a tobacco pipe in hand, a bandolier of bullets hanging around his chest and a black ski-mask to hide his identity, very little is known about the rebel leader. He’s a puppet designed to lure the media to the far-left guerrilla group, the Zapatistas. Even the trotting hoofbeats of Marco’s horse through the Lacandon Jungle has become part of his legacy.
As legend goes, the Zapatistas, a militant and indigenous revolutionary political group, declared war on the Mexican government in 1994. The uprising lasted only 12 days with consequences spreading for more than over a decade. The Zapatista Army of National Liberation, or EZNL, an army of indigenous farmers located in heart of the Jungle, were demanding full autonomy from their government. So, they took up arms and began a fight for the indigenous people of the southeastern state of Chiapas.
The resilience of the indigenous communities of Chiapas has helped them overcome oppression by the Mexican government, enslavement by the Spanish conquistadors and even political and economic reforms across Mexico. Since the beginning, there’s always been an effort to dissolve the indigenous people — hence their resilience.
Here journalists and photographers, are prohibited. If legend is real, they’re even known to be hunted. In these autonomous lands of Chiapas, it’s no small plight to get permission to access these communities. The last photographer to have taken a photograph in a surrounding town, San Juan Chamula, was said to have been jailed for 7 years due to indigenous superstition.
My black shirt was fading into a tired grey as I approached my third week looking for the Zapatistas. I had become friendly with the local Tzotsil Mayans, and quickly learned to eat their corn-husk wrapped tamales filled with hoja santa. The state was a melting pot of culture and pre-Hispanic traditions.
The communities of Chiapas were primarily made of two main people, the men and women of San Juan Chamula and the Tzotsil Maya. The men of San Juan Chamula would wear Chujes, black or white wool tunics, while the women wore purple huipils made of Satin along with long black linen skirts.
I entered Chiapas to see a young Mayan mother leaning against an aging pink cinderblock wall with her two sons. In her arms is her youngest child covered in a wool blanket. The oldest son scouts for tourists to sell a few of his red roses. The mother, with a blank cold stare on her face, sits patiently as she waits for a few pesos to come in. As the boy hands me a wilting rose he drops a black handkerchief from his pocket. Quickly, he grabs the fabric to hide the red star stamped towards the center. He looks up and stares at me with a sense of fright and anxiousness. A red star woven into a black fabric means that I’m close.
I looked around to see indigenous fabrics dipped in reds, blues and purples. I could hear the sounds of coins tinkering in aluminum cans, and the smells of pozole boiling on the side of the streets. These are the indigenous roots of Chiapas, the people that the Zapatistas fought for.
I won’t really say how I was able to collect the remaining clues to guide me to the location of their centers. Thanks to a few more than risky experiences with cartel victims and a combination of faith and luck I was able to obtain a location to the second Caracol of the Zapatistas.
I pull out a crumbled paper that holds a rough outline of the state of Chiapas. I look down and see my drawn circular shell that highlights one of their mystic hidden centers.
In front of me is a tall wooden pole piercing the night sky and a black flag blowing fiercely with the breeze. I pull out my wallet to grab my protector; A Mexican saint named Juan Diego that I’ve embraced throughout my travels.
To my left and to my right are two women guards in native threads of purple and red. Both figures are sheltered by a concrete tower as they wear their black face masks. Ice cold and frozen still like statues, neither acknowledge me as I sit there waiting patiently to be seen. It’s incredible. Among the white mist of a new morning I can see glimpses of wooden homes covered in brightly colored murals of Emilano Zapata, Che Guevara, and Sucomandante Marcos. In front of me I see the battalion. Hundreds of Zapatistas wearing black ski masks chanting as tears rush down my face.
Behind the elderly guardian and his stone cold crimson gate, I see the people that I’ve been looking for.
// the rebellion is real.
The Zapatistas are carefully hidden from the public eye to avoid being misportrayed by Mexican media.
// a Mexican mother, her son, and her revolution.
Since the uprising of 1994, the Zapatistas have worked to create sustainable economic and agricultural systems to support their children and family.
// indigenous unity
The revolutionary group is a blend of indigenous Tzotsil, Tzeltal and Tojolabal.
// guardians of the jungle
Their resistance is built upon the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle. A manifesto issued by EZNL declaring the groups primary mission of preserving indigenous rights.
// resistance & rebellion
Supporters of the Zapatista movement unite to celebrate their resistance against capitalism at Caracol II.
// la escuelita
La Escuelita Zapatista is an education curriculum focues on teaching autonomous education, health, production, and self-governance.
// indigenous leadership
Few people can name more than a couple of the indigenous peoples that exist within Mexico. The Zapatistas cover their faces in order to be seen, and are now recognized worldwide by their brand.
// a 20 year resistance
Through photography and writing we can preserve an idea, a people, and a movement in history forever. So, in honor of Mexico’s independence day, Chapter 1 is dedicated to the rise of the Zapatistas.
Fin // End of Chapter
