Bridge of Courage: Life Stories of the Guatemalan Companeros and Companeras
By Jennifer Harbury
Common Courage Press, 1995.
Review By Martin Schenke
"Don't talk to me about Gandhi: he wouldn't have survived a week here ... For Gandhi's methods to work, there must be a government capable of shame. We lack that here." — comment from a Guatemalan guerilla.
The history of oppression in Guatemala dates back to the conquests by the Spaniards in the 16th century. The butchery of colonialism in those times evolved into harsher, more systematic terror as the world advanced into imperialism and entire regions were brought under the thumb of private capital.
Guatemala remains a country with a horrifying human rights record. It was once described by Amnesty International as "a nation of prisoners", where "torture, killings and disappearances continue at an extraordinary rate, and millions of peasants remain under the strict scrutiny and control of the government through the use of civil patrols and 'model villages'".
The guerilla movement developed slowly, beginning with the Mayan resistance centuries ago. Today, it is at the point of peace negotiations with the government, after years of gains and setbacks, of victories and bloody defeats.
What do the companeros and companeras of Guatemala believe, and what do they dream of for the future? Bridge of Courage, compiled by human rights lawyer Jennifer Harbury, who spent years in the jungle with the people of Guatemala, is a collection of oral histories. Both terrifying and uplifting, the stories bring a new understanding to the people's struggle.
In the accounts, guerillas remember the spark that compelled them into struggle. Anita tells of a close friend, a medical student, who was caught with medicines outside of the hospital where they both worked. The punishment for "aiding the subversives" was horrendous.
"I found her in the morgue with so many others. She was naked and battered, her face bluish from strangulation, small razor cuts and cigarette burns up and down her arms and legs. Her autopsy report showed vaginal slashes, as if her captors, once finished with her themselves, had raped her with a broken bottle. Her eyes were gone, the sockets filled with mud.
"Looking down at her, I felt all my physician's arts were useless ... I had made a decision — I had decided to fight. I had decided that when those animals came looking for me, to kill me in that way, by God they were going to find me with a gun in my hands."
Manuel, a former priest, joined the struggle when his efforts through the church brought too much attention: "The villagers had been there for generations, sweating and labouring to change the land from the malarial swamp it was into decent, farmable lands.
"They had built up their village, organised some medical care, and communally purchased equipment and machinery. It was working. Out of nothing they had created a decent life, poor but decent."
However, the wealthy families nearby began to claim that the land was theirs, and the army came to support them. "People began to be threatened. Some were killed, some houses burned ...
"I began to travel to the capital to rouse support from old colleagues, people in the government now, people at the university ... But the repression grew worse. Throughout our whole region there was death and destruction. I was working wildly, near despair. It was then that I received word that the army had decided to kill me."
The second section of the book, "Life in the Revolution", is full of the fighters' experiences. After harrowing, inspiring and even some amusing stories from the revolution, the book moves into the final section, "The New Generation". We hear from new recruits in the movement, about the current situation in Guatemala and the significant advances they have made, such as the establishment of the guerillas' radio service, La Voz Popular.
The closing stories are more personal. They speak of being moved by the courageous youth of Guatemala, looking after orphaned animals, grieving and keeping their spirits up in the midst of war.
"When we hold dances up here, it's a free for all; everyone flirts with everyone", says Dora. "There's an unspoken rule that this is okay ... I love to dance up here, even though the conditions are tough. You can put your rifle down, of course, but your boots have to stay on, and your cartridge belt, and the machete sling is attached to that so it's a little clumsy. All the same, it's fun, as long as the ground isn't too slippery.
"On a good night we play the Beatles, and the companeros who don't have a partner clap their hands up and down over their flashlights to give us a strobe light of sorts. Disco, heavens no, but fun, yes."
Today there are four main guerilla groups in Guatemala, known collectively as the Guatemalan National Revolutionary Union (URNG). At the time this book was published in 1995, the URNG was in peace negotiations with the government. Although the US officially cut off all military aid to the Guatemalan regime in 1993, there is evidence that it has started to trickle back as violence continues, particularly in the rural areas.
Guatemala's revolution lives today, though there is clearly a long path ahead of the revolutionaries. Reading Bridge of Courage gives a real taste of this revolution, because it is told by those fighting for it. It provides a view we will never see on TV or read in the capitalist papers.