| Reviews / Comptes Rendus | Labour/Le Travail, 61

REVIEWS / COMPTES RENDUS

Nick Henck, Subcommander Marcos, The Man and the Mask (Durham: Duke University Press 2007)

FOR GOOD REASON study of the Mexican Revolution has served as one of the key topics in Latin American history. After all, the civil war, which, depending on how one decides to assess it, spanned 1910 till as late as 1940, provided a clear demarcation line between the old-style caudillismo (strongman rule) of the nineteenth century and the hope of a more progressive approach to politics in the twentieth. Additionally, it provided inspiration as well as served as a tactical and strategic primer for revolutionary movements that came later in the hemisphere (e.g., Guatemala, Cuba, El Salvador, Nicaragua). Correspondingly, the conflict unleashed several revolutionary icons with universal appeal – Francisco "Pancho" Villa and Emiliano Zapata.

The world outside of Mexico knows the latter figure best, in part because when some of the ugly unfinished business of the revolution resurfaced into public consciousness and exploded onto the international stage on January 1, 1994, the day that the North American Trade Agreement took effect, the perpetrators identified themselves as "Zapatistas," deliberately invoking Mexico's great (though failed) revolutionary hero. On that day the Zapatista rebellion was born publicly as the group seized and briefly held a number of communities in Chiapas, Mexico. The group's list of demands echoed those of its namesake, the historic Zapata, whose earlier efforts epitomized the struggle for dignity, justice, democracy, all tied inexorably to the desperate need for land reform.

Officially, the revolution ended in 1920; yet many of the issues remained unresolved. In fact, with a few exceptions – for example, massive land reform in the late 1930s and the simultaneous nationalization of the oil industry – the promise of the revolution, as embodied almost fully in the constitution of 1917, remained for much of Mexico, especially indigenous Mexico, just that – a promise. Even the land reform and oil nationalization projects fell short or were quickly abandoned all but rhetorically. Hence the Zapatistas. Many of the stresses that gave rise to revolution in 1910 – population pressure, political marginalization, an abysmal and even declining standard of living, widespread and systemic abusive behavior directed at indios – had again come to a head. Moreover, as in 1910 when charismatic leaders such as Villa and Zapata emerged as if from nowhere, so too were the Zapatistas led by a dynamic and almost effortlessly cagey leader, one Subcommander Marcos.

Marcos is the subject of this excellent biography, the first of its kind published in the English language. Such a work is overdue, given the iconic stature and substantive historical importance of his life's work. And the book, divided into three carefully argued and deeply researched sections, makes it eminently clear that revolution has been Marcos's calling.

In pithy, elegant prose the first section (54 pages) briefly charts how Marcos, born Rafael Sebastián Guillén Vicente in the Caribbean port city of Tampico, the fourth child in a family of eight, grew out of a strict Jesuit-run primary school into a radical university student at UNAM (the National Autonomous University in Mexico City). The second section (145 pages) traces the development of "Marcos the Guerilla," as he took to the jungle of mountainous Chiapas to begin a grassroots movement aiming to improve the lives of indigenous peoples and to fight colonial injustice. The third section, "Marcos the Star Spokesman," (182 pages) delivers precisely what its title suggests, a narrative and analysis of Marcos as a canny, flexible, daring, articulate, even sexy propagandist since NAFTA. Additionally, the study offers roughly 100 pages of wide-ranging and frequently creatively fashioned notes.

The nature and sophistication of that supporting documentation reveals careful attention to detail. Henck appears to have left few stones unturned. For example, early on, when plumbing the nature of what might have triggered in the young Rafael a revolutionary predilection, Henck admits first that the paucity of documentation makes conclusions necessarily tentative. Second, Marcos himself, whom Henck never interviewed (though he makes effective use of published interviews), has proved doggedly inconsistent and deliberately enigmatic on the subject of his past. Third, Henck employs the pathbreaking work of Frank Sulloway, the scholar who pioneered birth order research. The results are highly imaginative, even compelling. This sort of free-ranging intellectualism imbues the entire work with a graceful energetic intelligence.

Henck also constantly reminds the reader of Marcos's fascination and identification with "his hero" (165) Che Guevara. Again, such a tack provides useful contextualization – because many of the impetuses engendering Latin American revolutionary movements share common structural attributes – as well as a ready frame of comparison (that is, as poster boys of revolution: Marcos versus Che). That said, Marcos's charismatic character, like those of Villa, Zapata, Che, Hugo Chavez, and Fidel Castro, begs some discussion of the historical culture of caudillismo, a love affair that continues in Latin America.

Oddly, Henck also provides only a cursory description of Zapata and Mexico's own uneven revolutionary tradition. These matters deserve further attention and should be addressed in greater depth and earlier in the study. Further, the aforementioned similarities between the struggle for social justice in Chiapas in the 1980s and 1990s and Mexico as a whole in 1910 remain curiously understated. Yet they are crucial to understanding why Marcos, a highly educated middle-class non-aboriginal, might have met a receptive audience in a heavily indigenous region.

On the other hand, the book explains cogently how Marcos operated to win hearts and minds, how Marcos spent 10 years in the jungle building trust and forging alliances before the fateful action of early 1994, and how Chiapas was "pregnant" (63) for rebellion. In this sense, the book should be seen as a triumph of biography. The author makes no sustained effort to hide his admiration of Marcos; and, indeed, such admiration seems entirely justifiable, as what stood at the core of the rebel project was nothing less than the liberation of a people from 500 years of brutal, paternalistic colonialism.

With considerable nuance Henck explores Marcos's particular take on Marx, with a discussion focusing on the ideas of Louis Althusser. The result, of key significance, is that Henck unpacks an enigmatic pragmatist, whose ready flexibility he lauds at the same time as perhaps once too often labeling Marcos a "genius." Henck might have noted some of the structural difficulties inherent in attempting to marry Marx with indigenous traditions.

Marcos, as is well known, became a media star through canny use of the internet as well as via more old-fashioned propaganda techniques. This story is told well. Yet other Latin American leaders – say, Villa and Venustiano Carranza in Mexico, the Sandinistas in Nicaragua, the Peróns in Argentina – likewise successfully employed well- oiled public relations machines to promote political causes.

Minor criticisms aside, this formidable study is one of those rare books that one might deem necessary as well as likely to remain of lasting importance. Engagingly penned, supplied with useful maps, photographs, a frontspiece explaining the acronyms used, as well as a "cast of main characters," this book sheds significant light not merely on Marcos but on recent Mexican and Latin American history, and contributes to studies on globalization, social justice, indigenous studies, and the history of Marxism in the region. It is a must read for students of Mexican history and modern Latin American history.


MARK ANDERSON University of Regina

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