Score One for the Indians

By Michael S. Serrill

The negotiators for the Zapatista National Liberation Army stood ready for betrayal. Through 10 days of talks with the Mexican government, 19 Chiapas rebel leaders kept their faces concealed by masks and bandannas. Their spokesman, the mysterious Subcomandante Marcos, strapped a gun on his hip and slung two bandoliers of cartridges over his shoulder. The precautions proved unnecessary: during round-the-clock talks, the government not only bargained in good faith, but gave in on all but the most outlandish rebel demands. The result was a tentative peace accord that is something of a landmark for Mexico.

"We have found attentive ears willing to listen to our truth," remarked a Zapatista commander, before he and his colleagues returned to their mountain redoubts to seek ratification of the agreement from their followers. "This stage of dialogue has ended, and it is on a good path." Government peace commissioner Manuel Camacho Solis was equally enthusiastic: "Every time there was a rebellion, it always ended in a huge massacre of Indians. Here it is ending in dialogue." He insisted that there were "no winners or losers" at the bargaining table, but it is difficult not to see the Zapatistas as triumphant. If President Carlos Salinas de Gortari honors the pledges to the insurgents, it could transform the political and economic climate in Chiapas, Mexico's southernmost state and one of its poorest, and improve conditions for Mexico's 6.4 million Indians.

The government agreed to more than a dozen reforms, including speedy rural electrification; more housing, health clinics and schools; more bilingual education for Indian communities; new state legislative boundaries to increase Indian representation; plots of land for peasants; and reform of the repressive justice system. The government also promised to convene a special session of Congress to bolster laws prohibiting discrimination against Indians, and agreed to help Indian communities compete fairly under the North American Free Trade Agreement.

Salinas' delicate handling of the popular Zapatista demands has so far proved politically shrewd. He salvaged his reformist image, and his handpicked P.R.I. presidential candidate, Luis Donaldo Colosio, retains a 60%-to-27% lead over his closest rival. But the policy could still backfire. There is widespread speculation that Camacho, a respected former mayor of Mexico City who was passed over in the presidential sweepstakes, might use the Zapatista negotiation as a springboard to an independent presidential bid. Many ruling party faithful blame Salinas' concessions in Chiapas for a sharp increase in strikes and demonstrations across the nation. Indians in Oaxaca and Guerrero states are demanding the same concessions as their brothers in Chiapas. Last week 1,000 students marching in Michoacan state to protest a rise in public bus fares burned several vehicles and threatened to set government offices on fire unless officials agreed to talk.

In Chiapas itself, there is no guarantee that the accord will pass muster among Zapatista supporters, and many point out that they have no assurances that the government's promises will last beyond the Aug. 21 elections. If the paper promises do not produce action, rebel leader Subcomandante Marcos vowed to launch another offensive in the Zapatista war.

With reporting by Laura Lopez and Kieran Murray/San Cristobal de las Casas