—Well now, Mr. John Smith, in reality, he’s wearing heels shaped like pistols. I see you’re talking about the very famous painting by the Chiapas-born artist Fabián Cháirez, which was exhibited at the Palacio de Bellas Artes in 2019, right here in the heart of Mexico City. And let me tell you, it didn’t go unnoticed—there were shoves, punches, and quite the ruckus between outraged spectators and those defending the artwork.
—That’s the one! That’s exactly the painting I meant, my dear Facundo!
—Well, my good sir, since we’re standing here in Alameda Central, looking at that beautiful palace you just mentioned, let me enlighten you. The painting is called La Revolución, and the artist didn’t intend to offend anyone—he wanted to challenge the stereotype of the macho Mexican man. Now, Cháirez himself never explicitly mentioned this in his interviews, but many believe his work was inspired by the connection between Don Emiliano—Zapata’s given name—and Ignacio de la Torre y Mier, who was involved in the infamous secret gathering known as El baile de los 41—a high-society gay ball that took place on November 18, 1901, in a rented mansion in the Tabacalera neighborhood. Yep, the very same spot where the Monument to the Revolution now stands. But we’ll talk about that monument some other time. Funny thing is, that project was originally meant to be the new Legislative Palace during Porfirio Díaz’s dictatorship, but, well… the Mexican Revolution got in the way. Oh, and speaking of Díaz, he ended up being Ignacio de la Torre’s father-in-law.
—Wait, wait… why do you say he ended up being “malogrado” (ruined) too?
—Hold on, I’ll get to that in a minute.
—And how exactly was Zapata connected to this Mier guy? I mean… were they, you know… an item?
—Not that we know of, sir! They were connected because Zapata, back when he was a horse trainer at the San Carlos Borromeo hacienda in Cuernavaca, became good friends with Ignacio. And since Zapata had a real knack for handling horses, Ignacio took him to work at his own hacienda in Villa de Ayala, Morelos. But their connection wasn’t just about that…
—So, you’re saying…?
—Hold your horses! Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. See, their friendship was so strong that when the Díaz government tried to draft Zapata into the military as punishment for defending stolen lands on behalf of peasant farmers, Ignacio pulled some strings to make sure he didn’t get forced into service. Later on, during the Revolution, Zapata returned the favor—when his forces took Mexico City, he personally saw to it that Ignacio was released from prison. However, Díaz’s son-in-law wasn’t so lucky in the long run. He was arrested again, and, after enduring horrific abuse behind bars—especially after his homosexuality was exposed—Ignacio de la Torre’s health declined, and he died just a few years later.
—So, bottom line… was Zapata gay or not?
—There’s no proof of that, my friend.
—Well, then, was he a real macho?
—More than macho, let me tell you, Smith! Zapata rose to prominence not long after November 20, 1910—when Madero crossed the border into Mexico through Piedras Negras, Coahuila, to kick off the Revolution. Not much happened that day, but soon after, Pascual Orozco took the lead in Chihuahua, while Zapata commanded the rebellion in Morelos. The revolutionary leaders named him Supreme Chief of the Southern Revolutionary Movement, which later became known as the Southern Liberation Army. Back in 1909, Zapata had already been elected president of the Anenecuilco land defense council. He fought tirelessly to reclaim stolen lands through legal means, always signing official documents with the phrase Tierra y Libertad—Land and Freedom. Over time, he earned the nickname El Caudillo del Sur.
—Well, that’s some fascinating stuff! Tell me more.
—Of course, my friend. Zapata was born in San Miguel Anenecuilco, Morelos, on August 8, 1879. He learned to read and write from a former soldier of Benito Juárez, a teacher named Emilio Vera. Later, he became a farmer and, as I mentioned, a horse trainer. On August 20, 1911, he married Josefa Espejo Sánchez, though her wealthy family didn’t exactly approve of the union. His wedding sponsors? None other than presidential candidate Francisco I. Madero and his wife. But, soon after, Zapata turned against Madero’s government, launching the Plan de Ayala on November 25, 1911. Following Madero’s assassination, Zapata joined the Constitutional Army under Venustiano Carranza—but he never fully submitted to Carranza’s leadership. That old fox had been a loyalist to Porfirio Díaz, after all. So, naturally, Carranza had him assassinated. Zapata was ambushed and killed at the Hacienda de Chinameca on April 10, 1919.
—Well, damn! You learn something new every day just by asking questions!
—Anytime, my dear Johnny Smith. There are plenty more stories to tell about El Caudillo del Sur. ¡Y que viva México, cabrones!
