3 Postscripts 3
VII.- QUESTIONS, IMAGES, AND FEELINGS.
Which image moves you?
That of a child lost in a crowd of adults? That of a girl who doesn’t yet know she’s just a hunter’s prey?
That of a missing woman, trapped in the limbo of endless violence, relying only on those close to her to seek for her because the authorities are only concerned with statistics (the official ones, because real ones can’t be manipulated)?
That of a mother, with all the pain tattooed on her face, searching for her missing child?
That of the corpses of infants among the rubble of Gaza?
That of the migrant, man, woman, otroa (gender doesn’t matter, just the color of their skin), who discovers that terror recognizes no borders or nationalities, and who must add to remittances the sending of fear and despair?
That of loa otroa, proud of their lights, their faces twisted as they watched the red and blue police lights approach?
That of the family of the worker, the employee, the driver, the delivery person, the bricklayer, the teacher, who can’t access insurance because the employer’s lawyer «proved» that the accident that cost them their life «did not happen during work hours»?
That of the indigenous people (Tata Juan Chávez taught us that this is what the person up above calls «Indian» and that there are indigenous peoples, nations, tribes, and neighborhoods) who look bewildered at someone who has the same skin color but not the same heart color (because now he’s a civil servant—which means he has the color of money)—who says something to them and hands them papers, and that indigenous people doesn’t understand that they’re being told they’ll be evicted because they’re trespassing on the land their fathers and mothers, their grandmothers and grandfathers, their great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers, and so on, worked for centuries before, but that they shouldn’t worry because with that mine, that photocell field, that tourist complex, that highway, that tourist train, that shopping center, progress and civilization will come, and they’ll finally be able to be a peon for a new landowner again?
-*-
Which image outrages you?
The one of Trump masturbating while watching the news about more and more children being murdered in Palestine, and imagining a «big and beautiful» tourist complex built over the corpses?
The one of Netanyahu declaring on international television that Iran is attacking civilians with its bombs and should be condemned by the international community?
The one of the public prosecutor who leers at the raped young woman while he judges, sentences, and condemns her «because with those clothes, my girl, you asked for it»?
The one of the progressive public official who, to demonstrate her commitment to just causes, in response to a demand to search for missing women, «gives away» picks and shovels? («Hey, but they’re charging a fee for them»; «Bah, at that price, it’s almost as if they were free.»)
The one about the American ICE officer who brutally beats a migrant who tells him, with his bleeding face, that he’s been in the United States since before the agent was born?
The one about loa otroa, with a broken body covered in urine and blood, while the guy with the camera sends his boss the photo and the message «here’s the picture of the little faggot that they broke»?
The one about the lawyer who argues: «laws are studied to know how to violate them… legally, of course»?
The one about the illustrious progressive legislator who, out of vain arrogance, manages to condemn someone who published a twit (or however you say that) saying what everyone knows is true, but at the same time, out of imposed humility, fears that her American visa will be revoked?
The one about public officials who don’t function if the machine isn’t «oiled,» or, in other words, «with money dancing the dog»?
-*-
And why do you need those images—if they move and outrage you, of course—to recognize yourself as a human being?
-*-
In the global pyramid, the geography of modernity and progress, that is its map, is a gigantic photo mural.
Up above: the retouched images of the various brands of Big Capital. Few.
Down below: millions of images of the disappeared, the dead, and the forgotten. Jungles devastated by machines and stupidity. Rivers and lagoons polluted with the deadly waste of mining companies. Indigenous peoples who once represented life and today are an all-inclusive hotel complex. Marginal neighborhoods. The smoky skies of industrial cities with pieces and gears of flesh and blood. Wars where the usual wretched die. A clandestine cemetery as a Homeland.
-*-
But maybe that’s not all. Maybe, there, in that corner, down below and to the left, there are those who resist and, by resisting, rebel and reveal themselves. Maybe…
“There are voices and arms and decisive feet,
and perfect faces, and eyes of fire,
and the tentative tactics of those who hate you now,
in order to love you tomorrow when the dawn is the dawn
and not a torrent of insults, and not a river of troubles,
and not a false door for fleeing on one’s knees.”
Declaration of Hatred. Efraín Huerta (1914-1982)
From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.
The Captain.
Mexico, July 2025.
Images of preparations for the «Meeting of Resistances and Rebellions: Some Parts of the Whole» in August 2025, Zapatista Tercios Compas
Audio: Voice and words of Eduardo Galeano, excerpts from the texts “Los Ausentes”, “El disfraz de la guerra”, “Educación y Cultura” and “El Mundo”. Interview by Mundo Untref, 2012.
No hay comentarios todavía.
RSS para comentarios de este artículo.