—Let me tell you, my dear John Smith: ever since January 1st, 1994, during President Carlos Salinas de Gortari’s administration, General Zapata—one of the major figures of the Mexican Revolution—has been shining with renewed brilliance. That’s the date the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN) rose up in rebellion in the southern state of Chiapas. Emiliano Zapata, known as the Caudillo del Sur (Leader of the South), had led the revolution that broke out in Morelos and nearby regions, which was sparked by Francisco I. Madero on November 20th, 1910, in an effort to overthrow dictator Porfirio Díaz. Díaz had clung to power for over thirty years, from 1877 to 1880 and then from 1884 to 1911. And in the four-year gap between 1880 and 1884? Well, he “loaned” the presidency, so to speak, to his buddy Manuel González.
—So compadrazgo (cronyism) goes way back in Mexico, huh?
—Oh, absolutely, Juanito—way back and then some. Anyway, tired of tyranny and the theft of their lands, the campesinos of Morelos appointed Zapata in 1909 as president of the land defense committee of Anenecuilco. In that role, he famously signed documents with the now-iconic phrase: Tierra y Libertad—Land and Freedom.
His image became even more global thanks to the EZLN’s messaging and the support it received from the American rock band Rage Against the Machine, who often displayed the red star of the Chiapas-based Zapatistas in their concerts.
But let’s rewind a bit: Emiliano Zapata was born on August 8th, 1879, in the town of San Miguel Anenecuilco, Morelos. He received his first lessons from teacher Emilio Vera, who had once served under President Benito Juárez. But because of his humble roots, Zapata couldn’t continue with school and had to work the fields.
Over time, he became an expert horse handler, which landed him jobs working for the wealthy—including Ignacio de la Torre y Mier, son-in-law to dictator Díaz himself. De la Torre was so impressed by Zapata’s skill with horses at the San Carlos Borromeo hacienda in Cuernavaca that he brought him on to work at his own estate in Villa de Ayala, Morelos.
Not long after Madero’s uprising kicked off, Zapata formed his own revolutionary army to help topple Porfirio Díaz and return stolen lands to the people of Morelos. But after the Revolution’s initial success, Zapata grew disillusioned with the provisional government led by Francisco León de la Barra, which dragged its feet in restoring those lands. So he took up arms again.
In a show of good faith, Francisco I. Madero—then a presidential candidate—traveled to Morelos to meet with Zapata. They didn’t reach a solid agreement, but while he was in town, Zapata asked Madero to be the best man at his wedding to Josefa Espejo Sánchez, a woman from a wealthy Morelos family that strongly disapproved of the union. The wedding took place on August 20th, 1911.
Still, the promised land reforms never came. Just weeks into Madero’s presidency, Zapata issued the Plan de Ayala on November 25th, 1911, denouncing Madero’s leadership and presidency. The plan declared, and I quote: “the people shed their blood to reclaim their freedoms and rights, not to let one man seize power and betray the sacred principles he vowed to uphold.” End quote.
—A shame that two great Mexican men ended up on opposing sides.
—Truly unfortunate, my friend. You see, the original Zapatista movement was all about agrarian reform—it centered around land and its value to the campesinos. Gildardo Magaña, an incorruptible man much like Zapata himself, was his chosen envoy to negotiate with Madero. But Magaña’s loyalty got him arrested in Mexico City because there was just no persuading him to convince Zapata to lay down arms on the government’s terms. That kind of loyalty shows you something: even as the Zapatista movement suffered military setbacks, Zapata’s men stood by him, unwavering.
He became a symbol of unshakable ideals, so much so that he ended up clashing with yet another president: Venustiano Carranza, a former Porfirio loyalist. Carranza ultimately ordered Zapata’s assassination. The betrayal came to pass on April 10th, 1919, at the Hacienda of Chinameca, where Zapata showed up to discuss a possible alliance—only to be gunned down by the very soldiers meant to receive him with honors. He was just 39 years old.
To this day, he stands as a symbol of courage and conviction—especially for young people.
¡Que viva Zapata!
—Yes, ¡que viva Zapata!
