Last night all over the country, Mexico celebrated its independence from Spain in 1821.  Traditionally, the "grito" (the independence cry, commemorating heroes of Mexican independence with a series "Vivas!") is given at midnight by heads of state.  The president gives the national “grito” in the central public plaza, and each governor gives a simultaneous “grito” in the zócalo of the capital city of each state. In Oaxaca, we celebrated the grito popular (the people’s independence cry) with fireworks, dancing and plenty of tamales and atole for all, in Yalalag, a neighborhood of the city known for its uncompromising support for the social movement even in the height of the worst repression.

On a state and national level, the shaky ground on which the power of the heads of state rest was clear, as both president Felipe Calderón and Oaxacan governor Ulises Ruiz were only able to give the independence cry under the protection of thousands of armed riot police and military, who stood guard in the public plazas. In Morelia, capital of Michoacan, three hand grenades went off immediately following the governor’s “grito”, killing eight and wounding a hundred. The governor of Michoacan has declared the act as terrorist, but no information has been released.

When national and state leaders require an army to control their own citizens, it makes the U.S. initiative Plan Mexico (also known as the Merida Initiative), all the more unconvincing. Plan Mexico allocates billions of U.S. tax dollars for Mexico’s corrupt army and police forces, to combat “the war on drugs.” CASA volunteer Kath Golub facilitated a workshop this month on the plan, which ultimately serves to armor NAFTA and increase military control of social dissent. She provides a summary of Plan México and links to resources for more information.  Gustavo Esteva, Mexican writer and activist and founder of Universidad de la Tierra, provides commentary on the irony of the war on drugs and governments' paradoxical quest for security.

Of course, in the midst of the “gritos,” whether state or popular, are those who question the yearly celebration of independence and its meaning, asserting that the independence war sacrificed many indigenous people but only benefited the descendants of the original Spanish colonists who formed the ruling class. Instead, these critics say, we should save our celebrating for November 20^th, which commemorates the Mexican Revolution that was fought one hundred years later and shook the hold of the ruling class by changing land tenure relationships, guaranteeing the right to land and therefore the right to subsistence of all Mexicans.

Currently in Oaxaca, there are many debates on where the social movement is today, and where it should go from here. Our feature article by Scott Campbell, is an excellent assessment of what the APPO looks like today.   Broadly, Scott views the APPO as having gone through three stages - the popular rebellion stage whose power was drawn from the people, the base, the grassroots; the repression and fracturing stage, where the government came down hard and where those in the APPO with electoral, financial or ideological ambitions that were not in line with the APPO tried to cash in on those ambitions and finally, the stage that is occurring now, a return to the base and the grassroots.  

In Turn the Corner, Kiado Cruz, indigenous activist who also works with Universidad de la Tierra and writes for Oaxaca Libre, suggests that the movement needs to avoid bourgeois reformism and steer clear of electoral politics and instead focus on creating a new vision and opening new spaces for authentic popular participation. In Balance of Power, VOCAL activist and former political prisoner David Venegas Reyes describes how the forces of power which were once threatened by Oaxacan social movements are rapidly regrouping themselves. Struggles against the abuse of this power continue, and in the past weeks, we have seen continued protests against the neoliberal development plans that include massive wind generators in the isthmus of Oaxaca.

Likewise, the struggle for community-controlled media is ongoing. The assassination of APPO member Lorenzo San Pablo at the occupied Radio Ley was commemorated on August 20th in a march in which participants occupied the (now commercially run) radio station for 15 minutes to demand justice for all organizers who were assassinated in 2006. In Zaachila, the Assembly for Community Radio Stations brought together community radio activists from all over the state to develop common strategies and form networks towards the democratization of the media.

Governor Ulises Ruiz Ortiz announced at the end of August that “illegal radio stations” would be dismantled by the federal police. Given that it is nearly impossible for small, community-run radios to be granted permission, nearly all community radios in Oaxaca are considered by the government to be illegal. CASA Chapulín partner CACTUS, which has a network of community radios that broadcast educational, cultural and social content in the Mixteca region of the state, has already been the victim of one police operation in which the police entered and took all broadcasting equipment. Many other community radio stations have also been dismantled in recent weeks. Reporters without Borders describes the situation.

At CASA Chapulín we hosted an excellent workshop by longtime organizer in Oaxaca, Simón Sedillo: Challenging International Solidarity, touching on militarization, neoliberalism and the importance of self-sufficient, community-driven initiatives. He criticizes the ngo-ization of social movements in the U.S. and elsewhere, which we also discussed in a study group based on readings from The Revolution will not be Funded. Audios of this workshop will be available shortly in the Multimedia section of casachapulin.org.

CASA Chapulín volunteer Tim Gibbon painted this mural at the Casa del Buen Samaritano, a center in Oaxaca for Central American migrants traveling North. The mural depicts the systematic discrimination and violence that migrants face as they travel north, as well has the hopes and dreams they harbor. Tim has since returned to Washington D.C. and works for the Latin American Youth Center, where he collaborated with high school students on another mural.