The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 37 Global Hegemony and Place-Based Resistance: Citizenship, Representation, and Place in Canadian Multiculturalism and the Zapatista Movement Cameron J.H. Brown Abstract: The Zapatista movement that began in Southern Mexico in 1994 continues to offer a sharp break from the common politics of indigenous communities in North America. In order to develop an understanding of this break, this article contrasts the different conceptions of place and citizenship within the Zapatista movement to those within Canadian multiculturalism. This allows one to see the ways in which colonial representation over space work to redirect conceptions of citizenship from place into the hegemonic ordering of the State and capital. Through this exploration the relationships between conceptions of citizenship, representation over space, and colonial hegemony are presented. Key Terms: Indigenous; Citizenship; Zapatista; Space; Place; Colonialism; Hegemony; Multiculturalism; Political Parity Introduction Across the world there is an on-going consolidation and homogenization of power. It can be seen in the cultural logics of order, the political and legal rights to resources, and the mechanisms for state structuring of interpersonal relationships, of commodities exchange, and of relationships to the earth. At the same time those individuals subordinated by this ever more invasive and destructive process are realizing that which can pin down the escalating structures of these processes: the assertion of place. While the Canadian state has effectively deployed multicultural citizenship to pull indigenous representation away from their traditional place and into the structures of hegemonic social ordering, the success of the Zapatista uprising, with the assertions of right over place, has come to inform alternative notions of citizenship and representation across the world. This is now being demonstrated in the public squares of Athens, Cairo, New York, and Santiago. Examining the relationship between citizenship, representation and place in indigenous struggles within Canada and the Zapatista movement in Southern Mexico helps us to understand, critique and appreciate the shared trends and diverse strategies within indigenous struggles across the globe. The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 38 Recognizing forms of representation as competing claims to citizenship aids exploration of these struggles. Engin Isin‟s work is useful in this regard. As Isin explains, it is through the “intense struggle, conflict, and violence to wrest the right to becoming political from dominant groups” and the resistance to surrender it, that conceptions of citizenship become determined (2002, p. 2). Therefore, while dominant groups continue to construct and institutionalize those conceptions of citizenship that serve their groups‟ positions and identities, those who are excluded from these identities and positions make "claims to citizenship as justice, and redressing injustices to which domination gives rise” (Isin, 2009, p. 376). It is in these conceptions of citizenship that the content (rights and obligations) and extent (criteria of inclusion) of being political are acknowledged and accepted (Isin, 2002). Herein the notion of citizenship as a space of exclusion and privilege must be rejected, as citizenship “requires the constitution of others to become possible” (Isin, 2002, p. 4) Instead, citizenship can be understood as multiple and overlapping scales (urban, regional, national, transnational, international) of various shifting levels, (civil, political, social, sexual, ecological, cultural) being implemented by a multiplicity of sites (bodies, courts, streets, media, networks, borders) and by a multiplicity of actors‟ (volunteers, bloggers, protesters, and organizers) competing claims of justice (Isin, 2009). It should be recognized that active citizenship is the political claims that conform to the scales, levels, and sites that have been constructed and institutionalized by the dominant groups, while activist citizenship is the claims to justice that aim to challenge these very forms of content and extent of citizenship (Isin, 2009). Isin‟s investigation of citizenship is valuable in analyzing Nancy Fraser‟s conceptions regarding the framing of representation. Fraser breaks the ordering of society into three fields: cultural recognition (development of status hierarchies), economic distribution 1 (access and control over resources), and political representation (the framing of influence over the other two fields of social ordering). While all three fields will be explored in greater detail below, for now it should be noted that representation is seen as the field on which the 1 Fraser actually refers to this form of social ordering as „redistribution.‟ However, I find this is misleading as it takes the centralization of the means of the productive process to be a given, which the decentralization of the output acts to reconcile. The centralization of this process itself ought to be recognized as a form of the social ordering of resources and economic management. Therefore, it is more apt to refer to this field as the social ordering of „distribution,‟ as opposed to „redistribution.‟ The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 39 struggles over the social ordering of economic distribution and cultural statuses are played out (Fraser, 2007). In presenting this third frame of social ordering and challenging the Westphalian framing of political space, Fraser is able to compliment her focus on structural barriers to democratic deliberation over the social ordering of economic distribution and of cultural recognition (the „what‟ or content of citizenship) with a focus on the access or exclusion to political power (the „who‟ or extent of citizenship) (Fraser 2007). Coupled with Isin‟s investigation, these conceptions establish how one can unpack the ways in which claims of citizenship come to inform the three interconnected forms of social ordering. In this evaluation it is essential to understand the relationship of these fields of social ordering and citizenship with place. Examining the distinctions and relationship between space and place is important in this regard. 2 Therefore, space and place are examined, in turn, to grasp the connection between citizenship, representation, and place correctly. Sherene Razack‟s work allows us to move past the dominant notions of space as innocent, or as more real than the thoughts and desires of its inhabitants, as well as those which reduce it “to the status of „message‟ (what it can tell us about social relations) and the inhabiting of it to the status of „reading‟ (deciphering the codes of social space and how we perform it)” (2007, p. 77). In this she mobilizes Henri Lefebvre‟s three aspects of space: perceived, conceived, and lived. According to Razack‟s reading, perceived space emerges out of spatial practices and is made up of the everyday routines and experiences, which inform a social order, permitting certain actions and prohibiting others. Conceived space is that in which the representations of space are designed, “that is, how space is conceived by planners, architects, and so on” (Razack, 2007, p. 77). Lived space is how these two spaces interact with each other within individuals understandings, thus how perceived space and conceived space are interpreted by their users (Razack, 2007). As Razack explains, it is through this lived space that individuals learn who they are and who they are not, as space comes to inform individuals through its representations (how it has been conceived) and its use (how it is perceived) about the individuals who inhabit it and those who do not (2000). While this allows us to understand both how the construction of space is informed through social ordering and how it comes to inform individual subjectivities, it fails to move beyond an abstract coordinate 2 Credit must go to the anonymous peer reviewer of The Arbutus Review for emphasizing the need for this distinction. The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 40 system of human conceptions and practices that neglects the qualitative material differences between the specific places in which humans are situated (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009). As Thomas Rohkramer and Felix Robin Schulz explain, individuals “exist, prior to any thinking, in a specific place and within a specific historical context” (2009, p. 1340). To conceptualize how this distinction between space and place can inform our understandings of influences over individuals, Rohkramer and Schulz mobilize the work of Martin Heidegger and Doreen Massey. Heidegger understood the influence of place as based on the relationships individuals have to four aspects of place or belonging, which he called Heimat: earth (the landscapes, plants, and animals), sky (the weather, seasons, daylight, and night length), gods (those shared community beliefs or ideologies that develop from a shared heritage, sense of belonging, and sense of destiny), and the mortals (other individual human bodies fully aware of their mortality) (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009). In a Heideggerian sense, Lefebvre‟s conception of lived space is incomplete as it only speaks to the latter two of the four aspects of Heimat. However, Heidegger‟s conception underestimates how all four aspects‟ “existence had long been shaped by a wide variety of outside influences” (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009, p. 1341). Massey‟s work accentuates this error. She emphasizes the need to move away from conceptions of place as static. Rather it aught be recognized as “a multiplicity of heterogeneous influences and forces, relations, negotiations, practices of engagement, power in all its forms” (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009, p. 1341). In this the event of place is in its “throwntogetherness, the unavoidable challenge of negotiating a here-and-now (itself drawing on a history and a geography of thens and theres); and a negotiation which must take place within and between both humans and nonhumans” (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009, p. 1341). Within these negotiations there lie the contested nature of place, representing competing claims within different users (Rohkramer & Schulz, 2009, p. 1341). It is here that the dialogical relationship of space and place is exposed. Place, indivisible from its nonhuman existence (material form), influences the identities and subjectivities of its human inhabitants. Conceptions of lived space then act over place, influencing human interpretations of it, redefining its influences on its human inhabitants. This redefining of human interpretations of place informs the ways that the material base of its four aspects is influenced through human action, thus creating its forthcoming nonhuman existence. The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 41 Through this connection of space and place the relationship between citizenship, representation, and place can be drawn out. The contentious relationship in the conception of place is concerning whose understandings of space should be culturally recognized and to whom the control of human influence on place should be economically distributed. It could be claimed that contentions over interpretations of place are also contentions over the field of political representation. Here claims of citizenship act on place through this representational field. It therefore becomes essential to understand those conceptions of citizenship which allow further consolidation and homogenization of the social ordering of place. To this end it serves to recognize Antonio Gramsci‟s conceptions of hegemony (Cuneo 1996). In this understanding, the social ordering of representation, recognition, and distribution by dominant groups is maintained through two processes. First, this social ordering gains cultural recognition as correct and natural through the ongoing consent to it by individuals in their daily interactions. The connection between cultural recognition and ideology can be made; ideologies work to explain an individual‟s realities through a structure of connected and coherent beliefs (Das Gupta 1999). While national ideologies are largely constructed by dominant groups, their function is demonstrated in the acceptance of their structures of recognition by the majority of people within their claimed space (Das Gupta 1999). Thus, nation state ideology can be seen as the representational framing of cultural recognition. This leads us to the second process of hegemony: the social ordering enforces its consent through the structuring of coercion (Cuneo 1996). Therefore, individuals who do not conform to the daily interactions of this social order are punished through the violence of the state, cultural contempt, and/or economic deprivation. While these dominant forms work to conceal coercion and make it “appear to be based on the consent of the majority,” they also work to gain consent of subordinated groups by incorporating their key interests into the ideology of the dominant social ordering (Cuneo, 1996). Coupled with Isin‟s investigation of citizenship, this understanding reveals how as hegemony reasserts active citizenship as the correct and natural way of being political, it reworks its image to appeal to an ever wider base. Conversely, hegemony uses these appeals to discredit activist citizenship, justifying its violent confinement. The connections between this functioning of hegemony and the social ordering can be seen in the cultural statuses of race. Michael Omi and Howard The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 42 Winant‟s work is essential in this respect. In order to understand race as a fluid “complex of social meanings,” which is “constantly being transformed by political struggle,” Omi and Winant define it as “a concept which signifies and symbolizes social conflict and interests by referring to different types of human bodies” (1986, p. 123). This allows them to disregard an essentialist formation of race “as something objective and fixed,” while recognizing how it remains “central to everyone‟s identity and understanding of the social world” (Omi & Winant 1986, p. 124). The latter‟s importance accentuates the interconnectedness of culture and subjectivity. As Glen Coulthard states in describing Hegel‟s analysis of recognition, “the realization of oneself as an essential, self-determining agent requires that one not only be recognized as self-determining, but that one be recognized by another self-consciousness that is also recognized as self- determining” (2007, p. 440). Therefore, individual identities are not developed in isolation, but are born within a “„dialogue with others, in agreement or struggle with their recognition of” the individual (Coulthard citing Taylor, 2007, p. 441). This allows us to place “social relations at the fore of human subjectivity” (Coulthard, 2007, p. 440). In so doing it recognizes that identities develop “within and against the horizon of one‟s cultural community” (Coulthard, 2007, p. 441). Omi and Winant connect this understanding of the self and cultural status to representation. Through the analysis of historically situated racial projects, Omi and Winant formulate the organization of human bodies and social structures within racial formation (1986). A racial project is defined as, “simultaneously an interpretation, representation, or explanation of racial dynamics, and an effort to reorganize and redistribute resources along particular racial lines” (Omi & Winant, 1986, p. 125); and thus are part and parcel of competing claims of citizenship. Through the conflict, dialogue, and collaborations of these multiple racial projects the ordering of racial cultural statuses emerge with their resulting influence on the structuring of economic distribution and political representation. As Omi and Winant emphasizes, the resulting racial formation demonstrates the ways in which hegemony persists incorporating key interests of subordinated racial projects into those of the ruling groups (1986). Through this analysis Canadian multiculturalism presents itself as a hegemonic racial project, which incorporates a desired cultural recognition of subordinate racialized groups, as well as the desired influence of those The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 43 privileged with representing them, while defending and justifying the contemporary racial order. As a racial project it is able to integrate “minorities into the ideology of meritocracy and perpetuating “equal opportunity,” which remains a myth without “equality of condition”” (Das Gupta, 1999, p. 190). In this it ideologically validates the racial inequalities within Canada‟s three frames of social ordering, which can be seen in the social statistics of media representation, hiring practices, and the justice system‟s profiling, abuse, and incarceration. This ideological validation confirms itself through the three ideological frames that Bonilla-Silva and Dietrich describe in their exploration of colour- blind racism (2011). As they explain, through the ideological frames of minimization of racism, abstract liberalism, and cultural racism, modern forms of racism become “mostly subtle, apparently non-racial,” and yet remain largely institutionalized (Bonilla-Silva & Dietrich, 2011, p. 191). In perpetuating the belief that discrimination no longer holds influence over social standing and relating the experience of it as merely an excuse used by what are presented as properly represented cultural groups (Bonilla-Silva & Dietrich, 2011), conceptions of multiculturalism reinforce the frames of minimization of racism. Along with this, the frame of abstract liberalism works to justify the inferior economic and political status of minorities as the product of market dynamics, allowing dominant powers to “appear “reasonable” and even “moral” while opposing practical measures to fight de facto racial inequalities” (Bonilla-Silva & Dietrich, 2011, p. 192). At the same time that multiculturalism allows members of the dominant forms of citizenship to pride themselves on „accepting‟ diversity, the frame of cultural racism relates the subordinate economic and political positions of minorities to cultural practices (Bonilla- Silva & Dietrich, 2011). Therefore, multiculturalism is able to appeal to subordinate groups ideologically through cultural recognition of equality and diversity, while at the same time validating structural inequality and forced conformity. In exploring the State‟s policies and practices of multicultural policy the structural results of this ideology are demonstrated. In Canada, “multiculturalism” was a policy first launched by Prime Minister P. E. Trudeau in 1971 (Das Gupta, 1999). It was originally developed due to pressures from “non-British and non-French immigrant communities … assertions by Canada‟s First Nations, and to resist the separatist movement in Quebec” (Das Gupta, 1999, p. 191). As Tania Das Gupta explains, in “order to neutralize popular The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 44 resistance” the Canadian state is able to incorporate grassroots demands into particular state institutions through spokespersons and “professional advocates” of the subordinate groups (1999, p. 197). To avoid vulnerability in its core social relations and the “questioning of the core values and missions of capitalist institutions,” the ruling class incorporates equity reform within its institutional structures, which allows it to integrate subordinate groups “into the existing institutions without fundamental questioning of its basis” (Das Gupta, 1999, p. 194). Conversely, it is able to delegitimize the grassroots activists who push for more fundamental change in the interest of the whole community by excluding them from the official discourse in favor of “professional advocates” (Das Gupta, 1999, p. 197). Therefore, Canadian multiculturalism works to co-opt “anti-racism activism within state goals and to discursively” construct notions of minority culture and Canadian citizenship in line with dominant Canadian nationalism (Das Gupta, 1999). Through constructing and institutionalizing an active citizenship in the service of dominant groups‟ positions and identities, while subverting and discrediting the activist citizenship that could challenge their domination (Isin, 2009), multicultural citizenship works to pull indigenous representation away from traditional Indigenous understandings of place and into the structures of hegemonic social ordering. Reflecting Taiaiake Alfred and Jeff Corntassel‟s insights, multiculturalism works “to confine the expression of Indigenous peoples‟ right of self-determination to a set of domestic authorities operating within the constitutional framework of the State … and actively seek to sever Indigenous links to their ancestral homelands” (2005, p. 603). Alfred and Corntassel mobilize Frantz Fanon‟s assertion that colonial powers are constantly attacking the foundations of Indigenous resistance, working to “erase community histories and senses of place to replace them with doctrines of individualism and predatory capitalism” (2005, p. 603). Similar processes of hegemonic racial formation and social structuring of citizenship can be seen within the political representation of space across Mexico, including the places of the Lacandon Jungle (whose importance will be discussed below). In early New Spain the racial formation was largely premised on an ideological construction of Africans as “both infidels and Christians, and Indians … as both pagan savages and innocent native beings” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 899). This ambivalence worked to justify the racial order of European rule. Despite the work of the authorities to keep these groups as separate and “distinct social strata, their social interactions and mixing was very The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 45 significant from the beginning of the colonial period” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 899). As Spaniards and criollos (Spaniards born in America) usurped the land in rural areas, indigenous communities began to move to cities and latifundios (great landholdings) as dependent labourers (Shaefer 2008). While this resulted in the loss of indigenous status, privileges, and ties to their communities, which were and still are important sources of identity, the “sexual and spatial mixing with Spaniards as well as the interchange of cultural elements resulted in the rise of the mestizos as an important, and eventually dominant, social group” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 899). The rise of the mestizos and the corresponding national ideology presenting them as “the quintessential Mexican identity and the solution to Mexico‟s social and economic problems,” coincided with the State‟s process of modernizing “the countryside under the liberal ideas of equality and freedom of the citizenry” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 900). The two processes acted together to significantly weaken “the status and legal position of” indigenous peoples, “as well as their lands and communities” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 900). During the Mexican Revolution indigenous cultures were celebrated as the roots of the nation; nevertheless, these liberal ideologies remained throughout, informing the belief that “to rescue Indigenous Peoples from poverty and marginalization was to integrate them fully into the socioeconomic dynamic of the country” (Shaefer, 2008, p. 901). This formed the foundation of Mexican states policy of indigenismo, according to which ethnicity was framed as an obstacle to the full integration of indigenous into national society. While during these times indigenous communities were largely incorporated as a class, in the 1970s the Mexican state shifted the indigenous peoples‟ political ground by reframing their indigeneity as a cultural category (Jung, 2008). As Courtney Jung has explained, the conceptualization of indigenous “as a racial category, a class category, or an ethnic category has had dramatic effect on the capacity of the aboriginal population to establish a political presence, and on the particular form such a presence would take” (2008, p. 80). So, in 1992 while the Mexican State moved to reform the constitution to recognize Mexico as a pluricultural nation, Article 4 recognizes: “the juridical personality of the indigenous community [,] and [their] limited right to autonomy and self-determination;” the Mexican State also reformed Article 27 which ended the protection of Indigenous Peoples‟ rights to land and territory under the ejido system (Shaefer, 2008, p. 901). The shifting of state recognition of indigenous communities, from racial to class to cultural categories, and the approach of indigenous integration within indigenismo reflects the Canadian phenomenon that Alfred describes as The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 46 „aboriginalism.‟ Alfred and Corntassel explain that in this operation of multiculturalism there is a construction of the state sanctioned identity of „aboriginal,‟ pushing indigenous acts of citizenship into the multicultural ideology (2005). As Alfred explains these forms of citizenship are based on a conception that subordinate cultures can achieve “cultural stasis enshrined in law,” (2005, p. 127) while the fluctuation within their cultures allows them to “change and mutate to accommodate the supposedly natural and just cultural exchange and interaction,” which, although unstated, is determined principally by the dominant culture (2005, p. 127). This causes many „aboriginals‟ to “identify themselves solely by their political-legal relationship to the State rather than by any cultural or social ties to their Indigenous” place (Alfred & Corntassel 2005, p. 599). At the same time Canadian multiculturalism is able to appeal to those privileged within the forms of indigenous government demanded by it, hampering these communities with power imbalances, resulting in the problems of clientelism, nonresponsive bureaucracy, embezzlement, and competitions of authenticity, which despite being completely naturalized within the dominant institutions, are seen through the lens of cultural racism as a product of indigenous culture and community. While Canadian multiculturalism is able to appeal to indigenous communities‟ interests in “institutions which protect and promote communal identity,” the need to “control membership and manage internal affairs” is strengthened through the growing “need to ward off disintegration into the greater cultural milieu” (Christie 2003, p. 484) and to conform with the institutional frameworks of the sovereign colonial state. As Natacha Gagne is correct to note, under these circumstances the “idea of a supposedly „authentic‟ or „truer‟...identity that is reinforced by the state” to serve as “a powerful political object and an important tool in negotiations” is “almost unavoidable” (2009, p. 39). Thus, as Richard Borshay Lee notes, indigenous communities undergo a process “of internal differentiation, reproducing internally the inequities of the global order” (2006, p. 458). These power relationships involved in struggles for authenticity “are embodied and deeply felt as much as they are rational and conscious” (Gagne, 2009, p. 37) and result not only in deliberate misuse, but also in unavoidable elite bias towards an expansion of influence and privilege within their social positions. This aids Canadian multiculturalism in co-opting indigenous citizenship through the creation of official spokespersons, cultural elites, and professional advocates, The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 47 while assimilating indigenous places into the social ordering and relations of the sovereign space. The same interconnection between the State‟s recognition of indigenous citizenship and the justification of spatial control over distribution through state appointed intermediaries is exemplified in the early history of the Lacandon Jungle land grant in Mexico. In 1971 the Mexican State granted sixty-six Lacandons more than 600,000 hectares of land through tierras comunales (Eisenstadt, 2011). This created an interlocutor that could serve the government in mediating between the local labour force and private logging interests. Whereas granting ejido land might bring comparisons to the large-scale latifundia holdings (as it would give over 9,000 hectares per petitioner), communal land was granted in an indivisible piece and was thus more politically palatable (Eisenstadt, 2011). This grant had little to do with ancestral identities‟ relations to the land and much more to do with economic interests, as the few hundred Lacandon‟s (456) occupying the area were far outnumbered by the thousands of Choles (8,210), Tojolabales (12,681), and Tzeltales (41,874) (Eisenstadt, 2011). As Todd Eisenstadt explains, if the presumed goal of creating a mediator between the new state-owned lumber company, the Compania Forestal de La Lacandona, and local workers had been successful: [T]he new regional economic structure would have been consistent with efforts throughout Chiapas (and rural Mexico) to channel peasant demands for economic development through corporatist structures (such as a lumber company) and, in indigenous regions, to undertake a policy of assimilation known as indigenismo (2011, p. 83-84). Therefore, the granting of land through the ejido, which basic feature “were government tutelage, the inalienability of land grants, and bureaucratic adherence to the idea that rural communities constituted internally cohesive and harmonious social bodies,” (Jung, 2008, p. 89) as well as the granting of tierras comunales worked to reaffirm the states representational authority over place. Herein the understanding of the relation between the capitalist colonial framing of representation and its distributive ordering becomes essential. As Cole Harris has noted, the on-going colonization of land by Western states reflects Karl Marx‟s insights of the deterritorialization of space by capitalism. Capitalism works to detach people from their prior bonds to others and place, deterritorializing them, in order “to reterritorialize them in relation to the requirements of capital (that is, to land conceived as resources ... and to labour The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 48 detached from land)” (Harris 2004, p. 172). In his exploration of early British Columbian colonialism, Harris describes this process: As native lives were being “detached from their own means of production (from the land and the use value of their labour on it),” they “were being transformed into ... wage labourers dependent on the social relations of capital” (2004, p. 172). This benefits the distributive orders of the colonial State both in its acquisition of land and production of cheap labour detached from land (Harris 2004). Harris connects these demands of the distributive order of capitalism to the coercion within hegemonic representational field, as he explains the European expansion of control over land through violence and intimidation. Citing Frantz Fanon‟s work, he concludes that physical violence underlies “the whole colonial enterprise,” creating the opportunity for capitalist State sanctioned property rights (Harris, 2004, p. 197). As settler society consolidates its power, physical power moves to the background and other disciplinary strategies of people, space, and resource management move to the fore (Harris, 2004). Therefore property rights were ingrained in the “legal consciousness, a matrix of ideas, ideologies, and values” assumed rather than debated, of the colonial state (Harris, 2004). Thus while the ordering of recognition works to justify expansion and permeation of the colonial active citizenship, the distributive ordering and coercion of its representational framing is at the root of this expansion and permeation. Deconstructing Western notions of state sovereignty in this operation of hegemony displays important connections between active citizenship and place. Reyes and Kaufman use of Carl Schmitt‟s conception of sovereignty is quite useful in this regard. For Schmitt a legal order, or a norm, exists and “the sovereign is he who decides on the exception” to that norm, thus through alterity defines that norm (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 507). Thus the sovereign produces a state of exception by standing outside this norm and provides “the basis for the creation of a spatial ordering, a topographical relation in which insides (the norm) and outsides (chaos) are distinguishable in law” (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 508). In this way sovereignty justifies itself both from an order of political domination and spatial localization distinguishing inside and out (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). Schmitt emphasizes through this correlation the connections between the Western States‟ conquest of indigenous peoples, creating “the very distinction and therefore decision over what would be “inside” and “outside” the norm,” and the rise of the sovereign political domination within these states (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). This can be seen in The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 49 the justification of sovereign rule based on fears of what Thomas Hobbes referred to as “the State of Nature” In this construction, prior to the sovereign state each individual lived in a constant and violent struggle with each other. Within this theory the uncolonized space of the Americas served as an example (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). Therefore, the so-thought inherent chaos of space outside the sovereign rule acted as a rationale for increased political domination to extend it. As Reyes and Kaufman state, “[w]hat appears within jurisprudence after Hobbes ... [is] the conceptual disappearance of conquest, [and] the ability within the West to present sovereignty as a question of “right” rather than domination” (2011, p. 511). Therefore, justification of the sovereign violence of law and its logics of distribution and recognition over place is gained through a conceptualization of order, which is created through the conceptualization of disorder outside of the space of the sovereign. Slavoj Zizek‟s distinction between objective and subjective violence further elaborates this connection between violence, political representation, and place. While subjective violence is that which is attached to particular perpetrators, objective forms of violence are those that are normalized and obfuscated through historical convention and institutionalization (Pourgouris, 2010). As Zizek explains: [S]ubjective violence is experienced as such against the background of a non-violent zero level ... as a perturbation of the “normal,” peaceful state of things. However, objective violence is precisely the violence inherent to this “normal” state of things. Objective violence is invisible since it sustains the very zero-level standard against which we perceive something as subjectively violent. (Cited in Pourgouris, 2010, p. 227- 228) Understanding the colonial-state‟s social ordering, or in other words, its institutionalization of active citizenship, as being preformed through this objective violence, reveals the ways in which this “zero-level” is constantly redefined in the interests of the colonial frame of representation. Investigating the Zapatista movements‟ uprising displays that subjective violence can act to reveal the fluid objective violence ingrained in the active citizenship institutionalized by the State. New Year‟s Day of 1994 marked the first in twelve days of the Zapatistas‟ armed insurrection in the state of Chiapas (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). The nation was hit with the image of columns of armed and masked indigenous men and women, evoking the Mexican historical memory: “those about whom the urban society bore an ancient and unconfessed The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 50 guilt” had risen in arms (Gilly cited in Khasnabish, 2010, p. 101), claiming the name and history of the Zapatista struggle. The right to such a claim, so often co-opted by ruling elites, was this time so clearly justified by the militaristic organization of these indigenous communities in the demand of their land, which “embodied both the grassroots and autonomous legacy of the original Zapatista struggle” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 102). With the exclamation of “enough!” these images of militant resistance to colonial rule altered the cultural understandings of democracy and citizenship in Mexico, giving the Zapatistas the ultimate defence against the colonial state: popular support (Khasnabish, 2010). The continual force of colonialism, seen throughout the history of the Mexican State, was revealed in a flash by the Zapatista uprising. This was done through the Zapatistas‟ claims against the private property laws enforced by the nation state, exposing the violence of the state‟s land policy since the 1910 Revolution. Such a claim to land stood in direct contrast to the revealed violence of the restructuring of Article 27 of the Constitution just two years prior. The restructuring eliminated the protection of over a hundred million hectares of land from privatization (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). While this protection had prevented the land from “expropriation as collateral or through debt payment,” the fourteen years since its elimination has seen the government Certification Program for Ejidal Rights and Titling of Parcels which had accompanied the constitutional change, privatize 92.24% of that social property (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 518). This deterritotialization of control over the natural world around them and the violence it produced on the domestic population was highlighted by the Zapatista spokesman, Subcomandante Marcos 3 in “A Storm and a Prophecy”: Chiapas loses blood through many veins ... This land continues to pay tribute to the imperialists: petroleum, electricity, cattle, money, coffee, banana, honey, corn, cacao, tobacco, sugar, soy, melon, sorghum, mamey, mango, tamarind, avocado, and Chiapaneco blood all flow as a result of the thousand teeth sunk into the throat of the Mexican Southeast. (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 97) 3 It is important to recognize Subcomandante Marcos role as a spokesman of the Zapatistas and to avoid the all too frequent misidentification of Marcos role as providing external leadership to the Zapatista insurgency. As Khasnabish describes, this is “a lazy claim unsupported by any serious analysis of the organizational history of the EZLN and one smacking of racism.” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 14). The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 51 Marcos continues to describe the violence that results, noting the rural communities of Chiapas lack access to potable water, communications, proper education, and health care (Khasnabish, 2010). Thus the uprising exposed this neglect of democratic deliberation over the imposed social ordering of distribution, demonstrating the injustice in both the distributive ordering and the representational frame of active citizenship. The application of these radical militant notions of activist citizenship quickly gained the Zapatistas material and symbolic ground, demonstrating the connections between violence, representation, and place. These twelve days of violence resulted in the successful military takeover of seven municipal headquarters (Khasnabish, 2010), the occupation of two radio stations (Magallanes-Blanco, 2011) in which their obligations, goals, rights, and principles were communicated to the broader public of the Las Margaritas and Ocosingo areas (Bartolome, 1995), and most importantly the recuperation of 500,000 to 700,000 hectares (about 12 percent of the total land mass of Chiapas) of plantation estate lands (haciendas) from large land owners (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011). Although the government regained the urban spaces and continue to challenge Zapatista authority in village territories through covert and overt military actions, the territory retained by the Zapatistas has laid the foundation for the continual challenge of state legitimacy and the recovery of land through the “de facto reinitiation of Mexico‟s halted agrarian reform,” citing articles 39 and 27 of the Mexican Constitution (Stahler-Sholk, 2010, p. 273). As touched on above, prior to the uprising, the place now used by the Zapatistas had been dictated by the dual demands of sovereign hegemonic representation and capitalist distributive order. In exploration of this place, the sovereign‟s control over territory and over bodies within those territories can be connected to Michel Foucault‟s understandings of the creation of the bourgeois subject. This subject comes to know himself by gaining mastery over his own body and spatially separating himself from “degeneracy, abnormalcy, and excess that would weaken both him and the bourgeois state” (Razack, 2007). Both in her own exploration of the murder of an indigenous woman in Saskatchewan and in discussing Denise Ferreira da Silva‟s description of the police shooting of her cousin, Razack demonstrates how this process causes bodies within spaces signified by “a domain of illegality” to also become signified (2000, p. 117).This allows violence done to them to be presented as a “natural by-product of the space and thus of the social context in which it The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 52 occurred” (Razack, 2000). This social ordering contrasts European\sovereign and non-European\non-sovereign space and European and non-European bodies. The contested space of the Zapatista territory creates an effective oppositional force to these spatial orders. By changing the spatial practices of the individuals involved and affected by their movement, they begin to change the way the places of their communities are conceived. Thus they begin to transform these places, and the bodies within them, from sites of power into sites of contestation. This changes how these individuals think of themselves within these places and how they and their place relate to others and other places. Through this they are able to create new representation of place through activist citizenship. The Zapatista movement not only demonstrates how these places have been shaped by conceptions of citizenship, but also how place continues to shape these conceptions of citizenship. As Richard Stahler-Sholk explains in “The Zapatista Social Movement”: [Z]apatismo was forged in the distinctive social spaces of indigenous communities, particularly in the newly evolving collective identities that emerged as indigenous people in Chiapas were squeezed out of land in “traditional” communities, migrating from the 1950s onward to the agricultural frontier, establishing settlements in the [canyons] that penetrated the Lacandon Jungle. (2010, p. 270) Emerging from the First Indian Congress in Chiapas 1974, it “was a well- organized indigenous movement assisted ... by radical political activists” fleeing police and military repression (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 55). This movement had formed in the Lacandon Jungle partly due to the government‟s mismanagement of the land grant described above (Eisenstadt, 2011). While the government had double and triple granted the land to different indigenous communities, the Lacandon communal assembly, “seeing no other means to avoid being overpowered by the Tzeltal and Chol demographic boom, agreed to allow non-Lacandon members” into the assembly (Eisenstadt, 2011, p. 77). This created “common objective and a virulent animosity towards the Mexican government,” that was reflected by Zapatismo‟s new channels of land claims outside of playing the “state-assigned role as corporatist peasants” (Eisenstadt, 2011, p. 81-81). Urban guerrillas also played a part, joining the movement in the early 1980s. They had gone into the highlands of Chiapas to initiate a new front in what they perceived as an oncoming armed struggle (Khasnabish, 2010). In The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 53 1984 a group of these guerrillas “went to live in the Lacandon Jungle‟s harsh mountainous terrain” there they “came face to face with the indigenous culture and heritage of Chiapas” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 56) In this engagement, their Marxist conceptions of citizenship were relentlessly restructured by “the cultural and historical force of indigenous reality” allowing the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN) to expand and recruit new members (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 56). Space continues to redefine these notions of citizenship after the 1994 uprising. As the State “attempts to exercise conventional power by militarily occupying territory” and through “army civic action programs, paramilitaries, and counterinsurgency-oriented social programs,” the Zapatistas strategize to continue to appeal to the broader public and to “reinforce the bonds of indigenous community [,] inventing new collective practices” (Stahler-Sholk, 2010, p. 276). Thus, the Zapatista claim and practice of new forms of activist citizenship and representation within the territory of the Mexican State cannot be separated from their experiences and use of place. This activist citizenship is demonstrated in the tactics of the movement, which consistently worked to challenge prior notions of citizenship. Through the wearing of masks and in the written declaration of war, the Zapatistas highlighted the colonial-state constructed identity of the indigenous peoples as anonymous, faceless people without a dignity worth representing, raising the „Indian Question‟ and bringing in debate over issues of autonomy, culture, and the historical moral debt of colonialism (Khasnabish, 2010). By rejecting the representational frame of the State through the mobilization of a self-constructed form of representation, the Zapatista movement revealed the colonial nature within sovereign law. This exposed the double process of coercion and consent which granted hegemony to the Mexican State and neocolonialism, thus demonstrating the injustice in both the social ordering of status hierarchies and the claims of citizenship by which they are institutionalized. The use of subjective violence was strategically deployed in order to gain spatial authority and expose the current „state of emergency‟ of various Mexicans as “not the exception but the rule,” (Walter Benjamin cited in Pourgouris, 2010, p. 229) while at the same time being careful not to recreate the sovereign forms of violence to which they were reacting. In this the Zapatistas provide a demand for further nuance in scholars‟ works on the use of violence. So, for example, while Alfred accepts that peace cannot be understood as order and that self-defence can be at times moral and necessary, he attempts The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 54 to maintain an objection to using armed force against the institutions of power (2005). This appears to be an illogical restriction on effectual forms of self- defence against the objective violence of the colonial state. Noting Alfred‟s associations of violent resistance to foreign settler culture, it seems his true objection is rooted in a just opposition to the violent structures of sovereignty (2005), since the use of organized violence in general is not a strategy that belongs solely to the human species, let alone to a particular segment of it. 4 However, if we take his opposition as one against the construction of instruments of sovereign violence, his insights into this construction‟s facilitating effects on cultural acceptance of coercive domination is apt (Alfred 2005). Hannah Arendt also demonstrates important cautions in the use of violence, she writes: Violence, being instrumental by nature, is rational to the extent that it is effective in reaching the end that must justify it. And since when we act we never know with any certainty the eventual consequence of what we are doing, violence can remain rational only if it pursues short-term goals. Violence does not promote causes, neither history nor revolution, neither progress nor reaction, but it can serve to dramatize grievances and bring them to public attention. (Cited in Pourgouris, 2010, p. 234) As we have seen in investigating the Zapatista movement, there is a self- contradictory nature in the conclusion of this argument; however it emphasizes the need to be dynamic and prudent in the applications and tactics of violence. This tactical need is demonstrated by the Zapatismo‟s rejection of sovereign state power. This resulted from the Zapatista‟s conceptions of citizenship based on greater degrees of personal freedom and democratic participation, not on “a reversal of positions within domination” (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 511). It was under this pursuit that led the EZLN to the challenge “to change the world without taking power,” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 82) which brought forward the model of “rule by obeying” (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 515). The self- organization is preformed through a structure of “assembly that tangentially disperse power (through a series of mutual obligations, shared responsibilities, and the accountability and revocability of delegates),” which prevents the delegation from accumulating power, putting the “multitude” in a permanent position of command over the delegated authorities (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 4 This argument is in part an extension of Derrick Jensen‟s, against pacifists‟ appropriation of the „Master‟s Tools‟ reasoning: Idemandmydreams, “Derrick Jensen on Pacifism,” (Youtube 2009), retrieved Dec. 8 th , 2011: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e75I4ysssoA http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e75I4ysssoA The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 55 516). This structure works through the Council of Good Government located “in each of the five zones that constitute Zapatista territory,” each of which is composed of a number of autonomous municipalities made up “of a variable number of communalities, home to around 300,000 people” (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 516). As Reyes and Mara explain: The Councils of Good Government provide a form of rotating autonomous government charged with carrying out the mandate of the community assemblies, from which council delegates are chosen and to whom they are accountable. The councils operate as a local justice system, a source of financial management and accountability for the distribution of funds and the coordination of collective projects, and they are in charge of protecting and handling disputes over the recuperated lands (Reyes & Kaufman, 2011, p. 516). It is through this alternative expression of power that the Zapatista‟s continue to influence spatial representation, which granted them the ability to restructure the social ordering of distribution and recognition within their territory. These new conceptions of citizenship have come to have a great impact on various peoples‟ struggles for justice around the world. As Noami Klein explains, this has to do “with power – and new ways of imagining it” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 174). Zapatismo citizenship focus on the autonomy to govern oneself is based on both the interconnectedness of human life and a maintained focus on individual rights (Khasnabish, 2010). In this it very much reflects Fraser‟s description of participatory parity as justice. As she explains, justice aught not be understood as “an externally imposed requirement, determined over the heads of those whom it obligates. Rather, it binds only insofar as its addressees can also rightly regard themselves as its authors” (Fraser, 2007, p. 313). At the same time the content of Zapatismo citizenship reflects Fraser's conception of the transformative method, which aims “at correcting inequitable outcomes precisely by restructuring” this structure of society that “generates them” (1995, p. 82). While it challenges the social structuring of cultural recognition and the racial stratification that result, it is able to avoid the essentialization of cultural identities and presentation of indigenous as demanding “special treatment” from the state (Fraser, 1995). In this way the Zapatismo forms of distribution and recognition are able to strengthen each other, acknowledging the capitalist colonial nature of the political-economy and avoiding appeals to the State for toleration of alternative cultural values or economic assistance (Fraser, 1995). The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 56 It is also able to challenge the restricting extent of citizenship that is becoming ever more ominous in the rise of neo-liberalism in its challenging of the Westphalian framing of political space. This highlights the injustice of mis- framing, which shields the more powerful predator states, transnational private powers/corporations, including investors and creditors, international currency speculators, governance structures of the global economy, and the Westphalian framing itself (Fraser 2007). This deliberate mis-framing of political space away from those it governs is growing ever more prominent in states reliance on international structures and trade agreements, such as NAFTA to which the Zapatista uprising presented itself as a response. In this Zapatismo citizenship‟s focus on place-based resistance provides an effective oppositional force to the modern hegemony of the Neo-liberal globalizing movement. As Adam Barker discusses in “The Contemporary Reality of Canadian Imperialism,” the modern Neo-liberal movement has been described by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri as the hegemony of „Empire. (2009). Barker describes Hardt and Negri‟s model as moving past territorial understandings of sovereign state power and highlighting the ways in which transnational corporations and supranational bodies are united under a single “logic of rule” (2009). Therefore, the structuring of the social order comes to be determined by “a network of adherents to one type of order competing for status and control within a singular framework” (Baker, 2009, p. 332). This removes the borders between the economic and political social ordering within this hegemonic framework, presenting them as the natural order suspended from historical reference (Baker 2009). However, for Indigenous communities the resistance to Western restructuring of their social order remains grounded in their place-based struggles over territorial control (Baker 2009). Therefore, while the „privileged mid-levels of imperial hierarchy‟ come to be ever more marginalized in the globalization of social ordering, the placed-based approaches of the Zapatista movement can be seen as holes in these hegemonic conceptions, spaces outside the sovereign order, representing physical and conceptual alternatives (Baker 2009). Zapatismo presents itself as “the enduring power of dignity and the possibility of political, economic and social alternatives to the dominant order” (Khasnabish, 2010, p. 168). 5 Recognition of Zapatismo‟s accomplishments has long permeated the alter-globalization movement, which can be seen from the 5 Khasnabish, Zapatistas: Rebellion from the Grassroots to the Global, p. 168 The Arbutus Review Vol. 3, No. 2 (2012) Brown 57 organization and discussions of World Social Forms to the WTO protest of Seattle in 1999 (Khasnabish, 2010). Experimentation with these forms of activist citizenship and place-based resistance has now come to inform the growing „take back the square movements.‟ Becoming prominent actions in Spain and Greece then informing those movements slotted by the popular press as „the Arab Spring‟ and finally the Occupy Wall Street movements, these take back the square strategies all reflect important characteristics of Zapatismo. As Khansnabish has emphasized, Zapatismo‟s transnational appeal can be seen in activists: [t]esting received boundaries, moving over rough and less travelled political terrain, offering an expansive vision of solidarity and social struggle, always challenging singular claims to power and truth, [and] refusing to forsake the hope in radical social transformation leading to true social justice in exchange for a seat at the table with powerholders (Khasnabish, 2010). Therefore, within the indigenous struggles of the Zapatistas there is a new understanding of citizenship that has informed different peoples‟ conceptions of politics and justice the world over. This conception focuses itself on the place- based resistance from which it arose. 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Alternatives: global, local, political, 35(3), 269-286. Contact Information Cameron Brown, a recent graduate from the Department of Political Science, with a Diploma in Social Justice Studies, can be reached at Cameronb@uvic.ca. Acknowledgements This paper was originally handed in as a term paper for Adam Gaudry‟s “Indigenous-State Relationship” course in December of 2011. I owe many thanks to the great number of people who offered discussion, support, and feedback on the ideas and the communication of them within this paper, with special thanks to Adam Gaudry, Lindsay Erica Walker, Arbutus Anonymous Reviewer, and Tusa Shea. I would also like to thank the Arbutus Review for allowing me and other undergraduates the opportunity to present their work and providing a journal of well researched articles on pertinent issues. mailto:Cameronb@uvic.ca