On January 1 1994, before the sun had unleashed its first rays upon the jungle canopies, an obscure masked revolutionary force using the name, the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN), emerged from their bases in the heart of the Chiapas jungle. They took a number of key towns in the state, including San Cristobal de las Casas in an attempt to overthrow the Mexican government. Today they are confined to the mountains of Chiapas, living defeated and in poverty.

Poor and hungry, their cause was simply this: to claim back the land promised to them almost eight decades ago in the 1917 Constitution. Land on which to grow food, live and make a living.

Fighting for the most part was averted and the death toll remained relatively low. If it was not for the timing of the uprising however, there is little doubt that the Zapatistas would be a movement confined solely to the annals of history.

Coinciding with the signing of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), an international spotlight illuminated Mexico. It was time to show the world the economic injustices polluting the country. Naturally the world sympathised with the cause: poor people fighting for their right to land as deemed in the Mexican Constitution. The tiny rebel army led by charismatic Subcomandante Marcos, at least on a media level, were immune to the Mexican military many times stronger than they ever would be.

Consisting of both women and men, mostly all of whom were indigenous people, many of the weapons they posessed either did not work or were made of wood and painted black.

Sadly the shock waves from the uprising did not crumble the country’s infrastructure as the Zapatistas had hoped. The crucial first domino did not fall and the result was a lengthy period of talks and discussions, which solved little or none of the problems for the poor.

Thirteen years had passed before I set foot upon the red earth, which held the reminders of spilled blood at every turn. Zapatista signs demanding rights for the indigenous people, and graffiti-covered wooden huts, making for powerful propaganda tools for all who drive past.

My mission was one purely of research. I had lived in Mexico for the best part of a year, had seen injustice, inequality and poverty beyond measure, due to the lack of any real social security plan in the country. My research had brought me to the core of the problem. The epitomy of Mexico's problems lay within the village up in the rainforest-strewn mountains.

Upon entering through the modest gates of autonomous Zapatista village, Oventic, my passport was taken from me and I had to answer a number of questions. A thick fog hung like a dense spider web in the mountains above, and a slight drizzle began to tickle my face.

Most people cover their faces with bandanas and I was forbidden to take photos. Most people just viewed me with suspicion and walked away at my proximity. I talked to people who tell me that there is no running water, and the community subsides on the financial support of wealthy foreigners who view the struggle with romanticised overtones.

The sad irony is that it is the governments in the countries of these wealthy benefactors who have backed Mexico up against the wall for over a century, raped her of her resources and left very little but the scraps for her inhabitants to squabble over. True, there are many who enriched themselves in the process, but so many people live in abject poverty in Mexico, while other countries have profitted from her lack of political will and corrupt politicians.

The question begs. If so many people live in such an uncomfortable position, then why did the Zapatista uprising not incite a revolution? Certainly the leaders of the rebellion had hoped to inspire others who were unhappy to start similar uprisings across the country.

The answer is complex and almost impossible to explain. One thing is for sure, the Mexican government could certainly not act with aggression with the world looking down upon them, but someone had been paid to do so. One by one, key civilians from villages known to support the uprising disappeared. The support was slowly eroded in the remote mountains by paramilitary groups. Fear was woven into the land. People were reluctant to talk, they did not want to lose what little they had, to lose their lives.

Only speculation points the finger at government corruption, but it certainly made the Zapatistas one less problem in a part of the country which, for them, is essentially an enigma.

As for the explanation as to why so many people put up with poverty and squalid living conditions, it is impossible to divine. The Mexican seems reserved, and determined, but these traits come veiled with conservatism. The Mexicans of today do not want another revolution, only better conditions. They live in hope that one day things will improve for them and are content to trust in their government.

Octavio Paz proffers: "Hermeticism is one of the several recourses of our [the Mexicans'] suspicion and distrust. It shows that we instinctively regard the world around us to be dangerous. This reaction is justifiable if one considers what our history has been and the kind of society we have created. The harshness and hostility of our environment, and the hidden, indefinable threat that is always afloat in the air, oblige us to close ourselves in, like those plants that survive by storing up liquid within their spiny exteriors". He states that the Mexican instinctively regresses within himself with the onset of danger, becomes unresponsive and therein lies a major problem.

The Zapatistas believe in education. An intelligent mind is a powerful weapon. Perhaps one day the poor in Mexcio will wield it.

by Paul Stafford