Mexican students' epic struggle in danger
By Phil Hearse
MEXICO CITY — Commandeered buses flying red and black flags and Che Guevara portraits sped through the city on October 2, ferrying students to a demonstration commemorating the 1968 student massacre at the Plaza of the Three Cultures. Led by veterans of the 1968 movement, 60,000 students and their supporters slogged the 15 kilometres from the university campus up Insurgentes and Reforma, the world's longest urban avenues, to a torchlight ceremony in the plaza. Just five weeks before, on August 28, 30,000 students had marched in support of the electricity workers' struggle against privatisation.
From these mobilisations — and several smaller ones in between — the impression could have been gained that the six-month strike of the UNAM (National Autonomous University of Mexico) students against education fees was in good shape. But the opposite is true; this historic strike, one of the most important student struggles worldwide in the 1990s, now faces major difficulties and risks defeat.
At the beginning of the year university rector Francisco Barnés de Castro announced that student fees ranging from US$60 to US$80 would be imposed on all students. This corresponded to a long-held demand of the IMF that the government cut subsidies to public universities.
UNAM, with 250,000 students and an ambitious research program, is the jewel in the crown of public education in Mexico. It costs about US$100 million a year to run, but the students are charged a token one peso, to ensure that those from the poorest backgrounds can attend. The new fees would almost certainly exclude students from poor families.
Moreover, both the students and EZLN leader Subcomandante Marcos argued from the beginning that fees were the preparation for an eventual privatisation of Latin America's largest educational institution.
When the first anti-fees demonstration of about 15,000 was organised on February 26, few could have realised the scale of the struggle to come. But the depth of feeling was evident in the students' chant of "Zapata fought so we could study" — a reference to the fact that free education is seen as a fundamental gain of the 1910-20 Mexican revolution.
In March and early April, weekly demonstrations of up to 80,000 students were held, as well as almost permanent meetings of the student coordinating committee, symbolically in the Che Guevara auditorium of the philosophy faculty. The students set April 19 as the starting date for a strike if the fees were not withdrawn.
On the very first day of the strike most faculties carried out amazing feats, organising commissions on everything from catering to propaganda — as well as the interminable assemblies. And there was something very new for the Mexican students — the central role of women, who were the majority of the leaders in most faculties.
Unity of struggles
The student leadership, now renamed the General Strike Council (CGH), had the wind in its sails. Public support was huge, especially from popular organisations and militant unionists. The university non-academic workers' union, STUNAM, was vocal in its support. And Subcomandante Marcos, leader of the Zapatistas, was issuing almost daily polemics against Barnés and in support of the students.
Four days after the start of the strike, more than 100,00 students rallied in Mexico's most famous meeting point, the huge Zocalo plaza, in the heart of the city's historic centre.
In late April, dozens of masked Zapatistas came to Mexico City, as part of the EZLN's national campaign to promote its nationwide referendum on indigenous rights. They were given a rousing welcome on the UNAM campus. The unity of struggles against neo-liberalism was vividly displayed in the huge May Day march, which brought together contingents of students, electricity workers and symbolic delegations from Chiapas.
The PRI (Institutional Revolutionary Party) government now realised that it was in a defensive position and in May ordered Barnés to make concessions. First he persuaded the university council to lower the fee level by about 30%. This did not persuade the students to end their struggle, when the fees could be readjusted upwards with the next academic year, and anyway they wanted to defend the principle of free education.
Second, Barnés made one of the most decisive moves of the strike. In late May the university council declared that the fees would be voluntary, and if the strike were ended, there would be no disciplinary measures and no victimisations.
This posed a serious tactical problem for the CGH. One possible option would have been to accept the deal and then run a massive "don't pay the fees" campaign, which in a poor country would have found a very sympathetic audience.
Alternatively, the CGH could have legitimately concluded that since it was clearly on the offensive, one final shove on the basis of "withdraw all fees" could have quickly won.
But the CGH did neither. Instead it rejected the offer, and added six new demands as the basis for ending the strike, including the creation of a permanent "space" for discussing the problems of the university, between students, workers and academic staff. This demand amounted to a restructuring of the university administration.
The CGH then declared that the strike would inevitably be a very long one.
This moving of the goal posts shook many of the less radical students. By taking this option, the CGH risked opening a divide between itself and the mass of students it was supposed to be leading.
After the rejection of Barnés' offer, the media offensive against the students, especially by pro-government TV stations Televisa and TV Azteca, reached lynch-mob proportions. For the first time, they were able to portray the student leaders as the intransigent and unreasonable side.
Tactics
The tactics of a prolonged strike started to have unfortunate consequences. In June strikers disrupted the university entrance examinations, leading to clashes with high school students and their parents. This was doubly unfortunate. Since the pre-university high schools are controlled by UNAM, many of them had joined in the strike. The logic of strikers preventing their admission to university was lost on many high school students.
The attempts in July and August to disrupt university registration for the next academic year failed, but not before ugly clashes between students had taken place. It became known that many of those registering had paid the fees.
On July 28 the students celebrated 100 days of the strike, and once again tens of thousands turned out to march through the Reforma rush hour crowds to the Zocalo. But differences were starting to emerge about the conduct of the strike in the faculty assemblies and in the CGH. This was reflected in a growing division inside the militant left organisations.
On the same day as the July 28 demonstration, eight retired professors emeritus came forward with their own peace plan. This included a withdrawal of the fees, and the holding of an assembly of the whole university — teachers, students and workers — to discuss future management.
This plan immediately received the support of a big section of the 200-member university council, and Barnés was thrown onto the defensive. The eight were invited to a meeting of the CGH, but only got a verbal ear bashing about their failure to support every single student demand.
The CGH's rejection of the emeritus professors' proposal let Barnés off the hook; another opportunity for the students to seize victory was thrown away.
Ultra-leftism
From early on in the strike, the media had claimed that the main strike leaders were "ultras", and unfortunately the left liberal daily La Jornada and the similarly inclined weekly Proceso had chimed in with this reactionary offensive. Every section of the strikers denounced these claims, aimed at discrediting the students as a body. But unfortunately, there is ultra-leftism at work in the leadership of the strike.
The political lead in the CGH is given by an informal coalition of "Marxist-Leninists", based on the science faculties and the politics faculty. They include sympathisers and supporters of ultra-left currents like the Unión Revolucionario Emiliano Zapata, the Frente Popular Francisco Villa and the Movimiento Proletario Independiente.
In early August another coalition of far left groups began to distribute leaflets calling for a negotiated end to the strike, and for the continuation of the struggle by other means. This coalition involved both Trotskyist and "Marxist-Leninist" groups, including the Revolutionary Workers Union (URT), the Socialist Unity League (LUS) and the PRT (Revolutionary Workers Party).
This latter coalition, although representative of the division in the far left as a whole, had few members on campus. However, they were soon joined by the Trotskyist Juventud Socialista (Socialist Youth), who have about 40 campus members, including one of the best known strike leaders.
Also in August-September the supporters of the Corriente en Lucha por el Socialismo, a pro-Cuban Marxist-Leninist group, finally broke with the ultra-lefts. Together with radicals from the PRD (Party of the Democratic Revolution), these groups formed the "democratic sector" of the CGH.
This set the scene for some huge battles inside the CGH in August and September, some of which — unfortunately — were shown on TV. The dominant groups favouring an indefinite continuation of the strike resorted to punches, rhythmic shouting down of opponents and prolonging the meetings indefinitely.
The most systematic critique of the behaviour of the CGH leadership has been made by Juventud Socialista, perhaps because they stayed loyal to the ultra-lefts longer than most dissidents. Juventud Socialista says the methods of the ultra-left are Stalinist and have broken with the elementary norms of democratic functioning in the workers' and socialist movement.
Further, they claim, the ultra-lefts are deepening the rift between the activist "vanguard" of the strike and the mass of the students, who are passive and desperate for a resumption of their university studies.
But an uncomfortable truth has to be recognised by the dissidents like Juventud Socialista. With or without undemocratic methods, the ultra-left leadership of the CGH has the support of some thousands of students.
This is explicable only by the harshness of the class struggle in Mexico, the vast gap between the more than 90% of the population who are poor and the tiny percentage of super-rich, and the depth of the class hatred among the poor and oppressed which this produces. In Mexico, "class against class" ultra-leftism has a significant social base.
Repression
Despite the official positions of the university council, Barnés wants nothing less than total victory. For that, he and the PRI government need to prevent negotiations which could lead to a solution acceptable to the council.
A series of repressive acts against the students have heightened tensions and prevented negotiations. In the last month, two strike leaders, Ricardo Martínez and Alejandro Echevarria, have been kidnapped for two days, beaten and eventually released — after massive student protests demanding their return. Everybody believes the kidnappers were state agents, and many that this could be the start of a "dirty war" against the students.
But the ultra-left leaders themselves have carried out needless provocations. On October 13 they occupied Mexico City's main ring road, leading to an unnecessary clash with riot police, in which some students were badly beaten.
Five days later, the research institutes — which have no students — were occupied, despite the fact that most academic researchers sympathise with the students and that the institutes house, for example, the national centre for tracking earthquakes and volcano eruptions.
This led to a meeting of the CGH "democratic sector" on October 18, which made a public denunciation of the antics of the ultra-left. There is a real danger now that the CGH will split into two groups.
Meanwhile, participation in strike activities continues to decline. This could make it much easier for the government, or reactionary students aided by university authorities, to retake some of the occupied faculties.
On October 4, an outlying UNAM school, 20 kilometres from the main campus, was retaken for several hours by reactionary students and university security staff — who were driven out several hours later by CGH supporters summoned from the main campus. This attempt was a warning and a straw in the wind.
The government has repeatedly said it will not use force, and its hand has been stayed by the memory of the 1968 massacre. Any government would pay a high price for repeating it.
But if the climate of violence continues to grow, and with the mass of students, parents, university workers and teachers in a state of exasperation, an intervention by the army is not excluded. On October 25 President Ernesto Zedillo, touring flood-stricken areas, said that if necessary the army would be used to restore the schools and "clean" them. Of course, he was talking about flood-damaged schools, but every newspaper took his words as a hint that the army was ready to intervene at UNAM.
The CGH could still lead a victory, but only if it abandons its ultra-left intransigence and stops giving Barnés and the government excuses not to negotiate. A defeat for the students would be a bad blow to all those fighting neo-liberal attacks, not least the electricity workers fighting privatisation and the Zapatistas in Chiapas; both groups have supported the students throughout.
For the militant socialist forces in Mexico, these events must sound an alarm bell. The forces of revolutionary socialism are substantial, but divided into numerous contending groups — and many of these are in the grip of ultra-left, semi-Stalinist, ideologies. Only a major ideological and organisational renovation of the forces of Marxism can create a political leadership capable of leading effectively the mass struggle for an alternative road to neo-liberalism.