The Zapatista Army: A Feminist Revolution Existing within the Patriarchy

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Carlos Salinas de Gortari, Mexico’s President from 1988 to 1994, was seated comfortably with close family and friends at a resort in Huatulco, Oaxaca the evening of December 31, 1994, celebrating after signing the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), an economic treaty with the U.S. and Canada.[1] Media around North America praised NAFTA, describing the treaty as Mexico’s ticket to the first world. They, along with the Mexican government, stated NAFTA would promote conditions of fair competition, increase investment opportunities, facilitate cross border movement of trades and services, and boost the Mexican economy. President Gortari stated, “[t]oday, Mexicans have to migrate to where jobs are being created, the northern part of our country. With NAFTA, employment opportunities will move toward where the people live, reducing drastically migration within the country and outside of the country.”[2] However, much of Mexico’s general population did not view NAFTA as the saving grace that forces in the media painted it to be.

 Just hours after President Gortari’s celebrations in Oaxaca, the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN) engaged in their first revolt against the government. Armed with useless wood, guns, and machetes, 200 men and women[1]  seized control of five municipalities, released around 200 prisoners, and took the former Governor of Chiapas–a southern state in Mexico–hostage. This moment launched an ongoing revolution throughout Mexico against neoliberalism and the oppression of indigenous peoples.[3]

While the President sat in his resort surrounded by expensive champagne, the people of Chiapas did not enjoy these same luxuries. Chiapas, a 75% indigenous area, is plagued with hunger, disease, and low life expectancies; half the population is illiterate, while 83% haven’t finished primary school. Eighty percent live in crowded quarters with dirt floors, deaths largely are from preventable diseases, and over 1.5 million Chiapans are without medical services. Despite these crippling conditions, the region produces half of Mexico’s electricity and has plentiful oil reserves and agricultural foundations.[4] In other words, Chiapas was one of the richest states in Mexico in natural resources while its people were some of the poorest. The residents gained little benefit from the region’s bountiful resources, reflecting of the government’s amnesia for the plight of native populations since Mexico’s colonization.[5] To the people of Chiapas, NAFTA–an economic policy that largely disregarded native populations[2] –was not a first class ticket to the developed world. Among other problems, the free trade agreement did away with import and export tariffs that the government could strategically deploy to help struggling populations. For example, in preparation for joining NAFTA, President Gortari demolished the Ejido system, a collective land tenure agreement, threatening the ability of rural and indigenous farmers to survive.[6] NAFTA represented a “homogenizing and exclusionary government”[7] that continued to force the entrance into the modernized world with debilitating, undemocratic policies.

These political, economic, and social conditions laid the foundation for the uprising in Chiapas by the Zapatista army. The force was formed in response to the neoliberalism that the Mexican government adopted in the 1980’s. After the Mexican government discovered the group in 1993, the government then began reinforcing their own army and intelligence in Chiapas covertly in order to protect their NAFTA negotiations. There remained no large conflict between the two armies until the signing of the new economic treaty.[8]

The demands of the army, outlined in the First Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle, mostly involved indigenous and democratic rights: “[t]hey don’t care that we have nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a roof over our heads, no land, no work, no health care, no food nor education. Nor are we able to freely and democratically elect our political representatives, nor is there independence from foreigners, nor is there peace nor justice for ourselves and our children.”[9] In response, the Mexican government launched a 12-day military campaign that murdered hundreds of innocent unarmed civilians, many of whom were women and children. The government committed several human rights abuses including murder and attacks against journalists. The relatively ambiguous army that remained masked during armed conflict and public affairs had a spokesperson: Subcomandante Marcos. Marcos released several communiques, in the forms of both articles and books, outlining the goals of the army and the revolution at large, informing the public on the world scale.[10]

While Subcomandante Marcos was the revolution’s spokesperson, his main role befit his title, as he was second in-command. The true leaders of the revolution, the firsts in-command, were the indigenous women of Chiapas, such as Comandante Ramona and Comandante Ana Maria. The media at large focused on the male-led acts throughout the Zapatista movement, especially those of Subcomandante Marcos, since he was so vocal. Diverse newspapers such as BBC News, The Guardian, The New York Times, Vice, and Reuters dedicated several articles to Marcos, citing him as the army’s leader. However, Marcos himself described the Zapatista Women’s Revolutionary Laws as the uprising’s spark and continually referred to himself as a follower of his female leaders.[11] These laws were the outcome of women’s internal political struggle within the Zapatista community, and granted rights to women regarding marriage, children, work, health, education, political and military participation, and protected women from violence. Although the media focused on Subcomandante Marcos’ work and male-led initiatives, indigenous feminists started and continue leading the ongoing revolution. Marcos’ resulting communiques uphold feminist ideals,  by recognizing the struggles and strength of indigenous women and promoting autonomy and equality. At the same time however, Marcos’ unwillingness to elaborate on the fight for women’s rights or to acknowledge the work of specific female leaders within his communiques is reflective of a country that recognizes female struggles but does not actively work to dismantle the patriarchy. Similar to the actions of the rest of Mexico, Marcos’ communiques are feminist in theory but not in practice.

As already stated, the Zapatista’s Women’s Revolutionary Laws[3]  were the beginning of the revolution: “[t]he first EZLN uprising happened in March of 1993, and was headed by the women. There were no casualties and they were victorious. Such are things in these lands”[12] Women then continued to comprise the fighting force of the Zapatista’s. After the 12-day onslaught of the Mexican Army during the initial stages of the revolution, women returned to their villages first, often sending men into hiding. They became the first line of confrontation with the army after hundreds of their people had been murdered in the streets. They reclaimed their villages and continued to use autonomy as a practice of decolonization. After violence dissipated and the Mexican government agreed to meet with the Zapatista’s, it was women who led these meetings.[13]While she was dying of cancer, Comandante Ramona participated in the peace dialogue at the San Andres accords.[14] The women of Chiapas used the practice of autonomy to fight for social and political change throughout their own communities and Mexico, fighting alongside men in both the political arena and the jungle, nurturing the revolution by preparing food for marches, mending and distributing clothing, and housing Zapatista soldiers.[15]

Indigenous Latin American feminism has been disregarded throughout colonial rebellion, indigenous revolutions, and workers rights movements up until the 1970s mainly because the majority of indigenous women were illiterate, resulting in a lack of documentation. Ideas were transmitted orally, such as the story of Anacaona’s colonial resistance, Taino chief of Jaragua Hispaniola, immortalized through songs sung by different women of Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico.[16] While most genealogies trace origins of feminism to the social movements of the 60s and 70s centered around women’s liberation, ideas “founded in reflections on conditions of otherness” emerged during colonialism.[17] Ultimately, “Latin American feminism is rooted in the social and political context defined by colonialism, the enslavement of African peoples, and the marginalization of Native peoples.”[18] As a result of the growing dominance of neoliberalism that disproportionately impacted the most vulnerable parts of society, minorities, the lower class, and women, Latin American feminism is grounded in the material lives of people; it is the intersection between ideas of justice, equality, and political change for women, and political projects that focus on improving conditions of the working class.[19]

A main difference between indigenous feminism and second wave “white” feminism is that the former understands the intersectionality between gender, race, and class while the latter concentrates on the needs of white upper- and middle-class women. Boosting women into traditional positions of power like Vice President or CEO isn’t inherently feminist because it only continues the exploitation of others under neoliberal policies. The indigenous Chiapans specifically focus on political exclusion, cultural discrimination, and antiracist policies by analyzing how women are treated in relation to men, working to remove barriers that cause the degradation of life for all people. For instance, during 20th century Latin America, one of Puerto Rico’s most famous labor leaders, Luisa Capetillo, developed feminist anarchism. Her ideas were “grounded in class politics” and show that “emancipation occurs at the nexus between labor empowerment and gender equality.”[20] Through reading social and feminist theory to workers as they rolled cigars, her philosophies were shaped by her understanding of workers’ emancipation as a woman who labored in horrible conditions. This 20th century ideology of equality and justice framed women’s insistence on public access to education, which impacted both women and the impoverished. Liberation of women in Latin America directly translates to solving the socio-economic issues faced by the region because these issues are deeply rooted in the patriarchy.[21]

The feminism of the women in Chiapas embodies trends in historical feminism throughout Latin America. These women have faced oppression from their community as a result of their gender and have also felt oppression from the government as a result of their indigeneity. This duality is what prompted them to both join the Zapatista army and begin the revolution with the Zapatista Women’s Revolutionary Laws as explained by Comandante Ramona: 

[why have the women suddenly demanded to participate?] Because women also are living in difficult situations, women are the most exploited of all, the most oppressed. Why? Because for so many years, for 500 years, they have not had the right to speak, to participate in assemblies, they have no right to education, nor to speak in public, nor to take cargos [religious and political posts] in their communities. No. The women are completely exploited and oppressed… and my message to all women who feel exploited, ignored, is to take up arms as a Zaptista.[22]

Goals of this indigenous feminism centered around their right to education, a just salary, independence from marriage, freedom from domestic abuse, and freedom to participate in communal matters including legislature-drafting and armed forces.[23]

The manner in which Zapatista women have both founded and nurtured the revolution is a feminist practice in itself. The Mexican government has coöpted the women’s rights movement, giving the appearance of rights while refusing any actual redistribution of power. In other words, they recognize the issues faced by indigenous women just enough to allow the government the power to have “a limited politics of recognition and a depoliticised use of gender as a technocratic language of modernity meant to limit rather than extend women’s ability to seek justice.”[24] For example, after the San Andres Peace Accords, the Commission on Concord and Pacification (COCOPA), was formed to initiate constitutional reform in light of recognition of indigenous struggles. It was signed both by the EZLN and government officials. However, then-president Ernesto Zedillo rejected the plan on the claim “that women’s rights are not protected within traditional indigenous customs and practice.”[25] That is, the government refused democratic constitutional reforms and indigenous autonomy on the grounds of gendered racism and exploited the view that indigenous communities are more oppressive and patriarchal towards women. Comandante Esther explains this flawed position of the government in her speech to the Mexican legislature in 2001: “[t]hat is simply the way of life, and death, for us indigenous women. And they tell us that the COCOPA law is going to cause us to be marginalised. It is the law now that permits them to marginalise and humiliate us. For this reason, we have decided to organise for the struggle as Zapatista women, in order to change our situation because we are already tired of so much suffering without having our rights.”[26] In support of Comandante Esther, María de Jesús Patricio also spoke to the legislature that day, saying, [r]etaking the issue of whether customs and practices injure indigenous women in the pueblos, in the communities, we feel that it is not only a problem of indigenous people. No, it goes beyond that, it is all of civil society as well. Yet, only the negative is attributed to indigenous peoples. The problem is [the perception] that if the COCOPA initiative is approved, it is going to damage women. We say no. To the contrary, it will fortify the equitable participation of both men and women… I believe this implies that we need to be united as indigenous pueblos, civil society and all those who want to create an alternative response to this situation we are living in now. [27]

While the government continues push ingthe racist false narrative of indigenous communities being backward, non-modern, and more sexist, to prevent indigenous self-governance, indigenous feminists continuously remind everyone that women’s and indigenous rights go hand-in-hand.

To combat the government’s co-opting of women’s rights, Zapatista women began fighting for the ideals of autonomy, political participation, and complementarity [4] [5] between women and men. By gaining the right to self-government and control over their own bodies (bodily and political autonomy), indigenous women and indigenous communities can address problems the country has ignored for centuries. Women’s political participation in both indigenous communities and in national politics was historically forbidden and traditionally frowned upon.[28] The EZLN uprising, which was fought and led by women, changed this; increased female political participation in turn brings female voices into women’s rights discourses. Similarly, indigenous Chiapans believe strongly in the complementarity between men and women. They don’t want strictly female meetings and discussions because, as explained by Maria de Jesús Patricio, “women should be stating directly to their husbands, or their brothers, or their fathers, the things that they do not like about the customs.”[29] It’s apparent that these three goals of Zapatista feminism were fought both at the national level and the local level. Thus, they engage in a type of double activism, where debates about indigenous autonomy and women’s rights happen within both their own communities and national discourse.[30]

The influence of indigenous feminism on the Zapatista revolution is seen throughout the writings of Subcomandante Marcos. Most prominently, his acknowledgement of the strength of women in his community and of the female soldiers he fights alongside shows the progress that has been made in a patriarchal society. His first communique, “The Story of Durito and Neoliberalism”, responds to a letter from ten-year-old Mariana Moguel. The letter addresses the child as Subcomandanta Mariana Moguel. Using the title Subcomandante not only recognizes her as part of the revolution, but shows that she is Marcos equal. He says, “I greet you with respect and congratulate you for the new rank you acquired with your drawing.”[31] Here, Marcos does not talk down to the ten year old; he both thanks her for her work in contributing to the revolution, and makes the occasion a teaching moment. This respect for women and humility reflects the ongoing feminist revolution that began with the Zapatista Women’s Revolutionary Laws. The idea of gender equality is prevalent throughout the EZLN uprising and throughout most of his writing, Marcos’ character reflects that.

This is not the only time Marcos mentions or addresses women within his writings. In fact, he addresses every letter he writes to “Brothers and Sisters.” Additionally, when he tells an anecdote about history, communities, or a small gathering he does not use strictly male nouns and pronouns or gender neutral terms. For example, he says, “[t]here are also many other Mexican men and women who are unattractive because they can’t be priced in dollars… History is no more than the scribbling that men and women write in the sands of time… And so we would like to take advantage of this event to greet all those men and women who struggle for humanity through culture.”[32] Today, many people use words that hold originally male meanings such as man or guys when referencing a group. His use of both men and women is reflective of the fact that the EZLN is a gendered revolution and acknowledges the work of women in a discreet way.

As the spokesperson for the revolution, Marcos is responsible for explaining the ideology of the movement. Most of these ideologies stem from previously established norms of indigenous feminism. Marcos’[6]  story Conversations with Durito, describes a beetle interested in education that Marcos meets in the jungle. “ ‘I’m studying neoliberalism and its strategy of domination for Latin America,’ he told me. ‘And what good is that for a beetle?’ I asked him. And he replied, very annoyed, ‘What good is it? I have to know how long your struggle is going to last and whether or not you are going to win. Besides, a beetle should care enough to study the situation of the world in which it lives… To know how long we beetles are going to have to take care that you do not squash us with your big boots.’ ”[33] The beetle then goes on to describe several important aspects of the revolution to Marcos throughout various communiques, such as one regarding neoliberalism. The connection and relationship Marcos establishes with Durito the beetle parallels the connection between land and indigeneity. Indigenous life originates from, and is governed by, the land, yet the Mexican government continues exploiting and degrading the land on which the Chiapans live, and is the same government on its way to trample Durito.[34] Thus, autonomy is the method by which the Zapatista army and Durito will preserve their life. Durito wants to focus on taking control of his situation through education to protect himself from trampling boots, while the EZLN wants political autonomy to address issues the government has ignored, yet amplified, for centuries. The idea of autonomy feminists such as Comandante Esther developed and argued for to achieve liberation for the individual and the community is thus a prominent theme throughout Marcos’ communiques.

In one of his more formally written communiques “Democracy, Liberty and Justice: Foundation for a New Political System in Mexico,” Marcos explores the idea of political inclusion and complementarity of women and men, elaborating, “[the problem of revolution] becomes rather a problem that concerns all those who see the revolution as necessary and possible, and in its realization everyone is important.”[35] Here, Marcos focuses on the necessity of equal rights, responsibilities, and discussions where all members of the community participate, an idea stressed by indigenous women such as Maria de Jesús Patricio. This is a feminist idea because it recognizes the importance of political equality within indigenous communities despite differences of gender.

Although Marcos uses the word women throughout his writings, acknowledges women’s struggles, treats them as equals, and uses their ideas of autonomy and equality, he never directly addresses solutions to the struggles faced by women. His work focuses primarily on the debilitating political and economic policies of the Mexican government such as neoliberalism, classism, and racism, but does not delineate between the effects on the community and the effects on women. For example, he never mentions the goals of the Women’s Revolutionary Laws, and he never mentions specific female leaders by name in turn making himself appear more prominent. A communique that went into detail on the strength and contributions of women didn’t occur until 2000 with “The Story of the Air and the Night: Insurgentas! La Mar in March,” coming out six years after he began his writings.[36] In this story, Marcos reflects upon the sexism women face daily in Mexico which makes their lives within the revolution that much harder. In it, he writes, “[t]he EZLN carries with it not just the hope of something better for everyone; it also drags along the world’s troubles and blindness that we want to leave aside. If, in the indigenous communities and in the cities, women must confront a world where being male is a privilege that excludes those who are different (women and homosexuals), in the mountain and as troop commanders, they must confront the resistance of the majority of the insurgents to take orders from a woman”[37](268). Marcos knows that while the women in his community are the backbone of the revolution, they face continuous oppression at both the local and national level, and his stylistic writing choices reflect this consciousness. However, he leaves the work of dismantling the patriarchy to women. Thus, his work is feminist in theory in its use of female ideas and its acknowledgement  of sexism, but is not feminist in practice because he doesn’t actively acknowledge changes that can increase gender equality, and consistently forgoes mentioning strong female leaders.

The women of Chiapas continuously sacrifice themselves for the greater good of the state. While they remain the most important force behind the Zapatista Army, the media and male counterparts continually ignore their contributions and success by dominating the discourse and refusing to fight for women’s rights. Ultimately, the women of the movement are willing to put their individual interests beneath those of the community, while their male comrades refuse to do the same. Subcomandante Marcos’ rhetoric is an example of the progress the Chiapas community has made and their openness to women’s rights as a result of the tireless effort of indigenous feminists. However, it also serves as an example of men leaving the fight for women’s rights and gender equality up to women. The voice of a feminist revolution becomes muddled and lost when a man is heading the discourse. The Zapatista Revolution is a feminist movement operating withing a society that is fundamentally patriarchal resulting in the topic of women treated as less important than the topic of the community. 


Works Cited

Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos, “The Story of Durito and Neoliberalism,” in Conversations with Durito: Stories of the Zapatistas and Neoliberalism (New York: Autonomedia, 2005).

Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.” Journal of Latin American Studies 44, no. 4 (2012): 703-32. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23352622.

Carlos Salinas de Gortari, “Interview with David Frost for PBS” (October 28, 1993) Los Angeles Times, https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1993-10-29-mn-51099-story.html

Castillo, R. Aida Hernandez. “Zapatismo and the emergence of indigenous feminism. (Report on Race and Identity).” NACLA Report on the Americas 35, no. 6 (2002): 39+. Gale OneFile: Informe Académico (accessed November 2, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A87694952/IFME?u=29002&sid=IFME&xid=72305e89.

EZLN. “Zapatista Women’s Revolutionary Laws.” El Despertador Mexicano. January 1st 1994.                                           

Foran, John. “Studying Revolutions through the Prism of Race, Gender, and Class: Notes Toward a Framework.” In Race, Gender & Class 8, no. 2 (Apr 30, 2001): 117. (accessed October 26, 2020). https://search.proquest.com/docview/218857643?accountid=15172.                             

Gilbreth, Chris, and Gerardo Otero “Democratization in Mexico: The Zapatista Uprising and Civil Society.” In Latin American Perspectives 28, no. 4 (2001): 7-29. (accessed October 28, 2020). http://www.jstor.org/stable/3185136.                                                                               

Glueck, Meredith. “Comandante Ramona (1959?–2006).” In Encyclopedia of Latin American History and Culture, 2nd ed., edited by Jay Kinsbruner and Erick D. Langer, 539. Vol. 2. Detroit, MI: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2008. Gale In Context: World History (accessed November 2, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/CX3078901610/WHIC?u=29002&sid=WHIC&xid=e9a8935c.                                               

Glusker, Susannah. “Women Networking for Peace and Survival in Chiapas: Militants, Celebrities, Academics, Survivors, and the Stiletto Heel Brigade.” Sex Roles 39, no. 7 (10, 1998): 539-557. (accessed October 31, 2020). https://search.proquest.com/docview/225372329?accountid=15172.                                           

Grosso, Paula. “The many faces of the Zapatista women: Soldiers, gardeners, healers, teachers and nurturers – they are the hub of a community resisting and re-building in Chiapas, Mexico.” Briarpatch, March 2002, 3+. Gale OneFile: News (accessed November 2, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A84165776/STND?u=29002&sid=STND&xid=f7bdac9a.       Jörgensen, Beth E. “Making History: Subcomandante Marcos in the Mexican Chronicle.” South Central Review 21, no. 3 (Fall 2004): 85-106. Quoted in Contemporary Literary Criticism, edited by Jeffrey W. Hunter. Vol. 343. Detroit, MI: Gale, 2013. Gale Literature Resource Center (accessed November 2, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/H1100115195/LitRC?u=29002&sid=LitRC&xid=5a61a1fb.   

Jens Korff, “Meaning of Land to Aboriginal People,” Creative Spirits, May 21, 2020

Morales, Josefina. “Two Reviews: NAFTA and the Zapatistas.” In International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society 8, no. 2 (1994): 343-51. (accessed October 28, 2020). http://www.jstor.org/stable/20007192.                                                                                       

Ordóñez, Carlos Salvador. “Zapatista Rebellion.” In Encyclopedia of Race and Racism, 2nd ed., edited by Patrick L. Mason, 291-296. Vol. 4. Detroit, MI: Macmillan Reference USA, 2013. Gale In Context: Opposing Viewpoints (accessed October 27, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/CX4190600470/OVIC?u=29002&sid=OVIC&xid=51cba28f.

Orr-Álvarez B. “Masking Revolution: Subcomandante Marcos and the Contemporary Zapatista Movement.” In Beauchesne K., Santos A. (eds) Performing Utopias in the Contemporary Americas. Palgrave Macmillan, New York. (accessed October 30, 2020). https://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-56873-1_7                                                                                

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Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2020 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2020/entries/feminism-latin-america/>.                        

Rousseau, Stéphanie, and Anahi Morales Hudon. “Paths towards Autonomy in Indigenous Women’s Movements: Mexico, Peru, Bolivia.” Journal of Latin American Studies 48, no. 1 (2015): 33–60. https://doi.org/10.1017/s0022216x15000802.

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References

[1] Corwin, Adam. “Zapatista Exodus: A Departure from Traditional Revolution.” Order No. 1427231, California State University, Dominguez Hills, 2004.

[2] Carlos Salinas de Gortari, “Interview with David Frost for PBS” (October 28, 1993) Los Angeles Times, https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1993-10-29-mn-51099-story.html

[3] Ordóñez, Carlos Salvador. “Zapatista Rebellion.” In Encyclopedia of Race and Racism, 2nd ed. edited by Patrick L. Mason, 291-296. Vol. 4. Detroit, MI: Macmillan Reference USA, 2013. Gale In Context: Opposing Viewpoints.

[4] Cornwin. “Zapatista Exodus: A Departure from Traditional Revolution.”

[5] Cornwin. “Zapatista Exodus: A Departure from Traditional Revolution.”

[6] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.” Journal of Latin American Studies 44, no. 4 (2012): 703-32. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23352622.

[7] Cornwin. “Zapatista Exodus: A Departure from Traditional Revolution.”

[8] Ordóñez. “Zapatista Rebellion.”

[9] Zapatista Army. the First Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle. General Command of the EZLN. 1993

[10] Ordóñez. “Zapatista Rebellion.”

[11] Foran, John. “Studying Revolutions through the Prism of Race, Gender, and Class: Notes Toward a Framework.” Race, Gender & Class 8, no. 2 (Apr 30, 2001): 117.

[12] Foran, John. “Studying Revolutions through the Prism of Race, Gender, and Class: Notes Toward a Framework.”

[13] Foran, John. “”Studying Revolutions through the Prism of Race, Gender, and Class: Notes Toward a Framework.”

[14] Glueck, Meredith. “Comandante Ramona (1959?–2006).” In Encyclopedia of Latin American History and Culture, 2nd ed., edited by Jay Kinsbruner and Erick D. Langer, 539. Vol. 2. Detroit, MI: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2008. Gale In Context: World History

[15] Grosso, Paula. “The many faces of the Zapatista women: Soldiers, gardeners, healers, teachers and nurturers – they are the hub of a community resisting and re-building in Chiapas, Mexico.” Briarpatch, March 2002, 3+. Gale OneFile: News

[16] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2020 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.)

[17]  Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[18] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[19] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[20] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[21] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[22] Foran, John. “Studying Revolutions through the Prism of Race, Gender, and Class: Notes Toward a Framework.”

[23] EZLN. “Zapatista Women’s Revolutionary Laws.” El Despertador Mexicano. January 1st 1994.

[24]  Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[25] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[26] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[27] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[28] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[29] Blackwell, Maylei. “The Practice of Autonomy in the Age of Neoliberalism: Strategies from Indigenous Women’s Organising in Mexico.”

[30] Rivera Berruz, Stephanie, “Latin American Feminism”

[31]Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos, “The Story of Durito and Neoliberalism,” in Conversations with Durito: Stories of the Zapatistas and Neoliberalism (New York: Autonomedia, 2005), pp. 41.

[32] Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos. Conversations with Durito pp. 154, 184, 289.

[33] Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos. Conversations with Durito pp 42-43

[34] Jens Korff, “Meaning of Land to Aboriginal People,” Creative Spirits, May 21, 2020

[35] Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos. Conversations with Durito pp 92

[36] Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos. Conversations with Durito

[37]  Acción Zapatista Editorial Collective and Subcomandante Marcos. Conversations with Durito pp 268

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