The power of Indigenous communities in building a collective future

 

For International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, climate activist and CRIN Climate Adviser Santiago Flores Medina speaks with Futuros Indígenas: one of Latin America's leading networks in the restoration and preservation of Indigenous Peoples’ rights for autonomous identities. The interview highlights how Indigenous resistance is key to driving systemic change: from challenging various forms of oppression to demanding intersectional climate justice.

 
three indigeneous climate activists with fists in the air with a large yellow title against a grey background with tree branches
 

“Living in a society increasingly polarized by the pursuit of power and the invisibility of the struggles of the most affected communities, I think a lot about what an equitable sense of climate justice means in our current times. One I believe must be founded on the creation of networks between communities, in the reclamation of knowledge as a form of empowerment, and in uplifting intersectional efforts of resistance. A belief that I eventually was able to shape in the acknowledgment of the work of Miryam “Mimi” Vargas, Wendy Juárez and Armando García —three members of one of Futuros Indígenas's Mexican communities of activists.”

~ Santiago Flores Medina 

 
 

A plunder of Indigenous people’s rights 

Mexico is one of the most diverse nations worldwide in terms of the number of Indigenous communities that coexist. However, it is also a place where Indigenous communities face violence and oppression. 

The historical oppression of Indigenous communities is palpable, for example, in the suffering of the Otomí boy who was set on fire by his school classmates, allegedly for simply speaking his native language; a right to identity and culture so inherent to all human beings, but one that Indigenous communities are still forced to fight for. One that drives them to resist systems whose foundations lie in the abuse of power, and in supremacist, racist, patriarcal, capitalist and colonial ideologies.

It is a plunder rooted in the belief of Western superiority. A plunder strategically camouflaged by empty promises, coming from states and international corporations. A plunder that unfairly uses the prosperity of human development as a hiding place to embrace nationalist interests alien to the needs and demands of Indigenous communities. A plunder that uses time as a weapon to unleash its effects in a gradual but catastrophic way.

It is a narrative that began in 1519 when colonizers set foot on the lands of the American continent, seeking to impose their ways of life on native communities. And it is this same narrative that today upholds the current inequalities. 

Transmitting knowledge as a form of resistance

This supremacy is apparent, for example, in the exercise of the right to education. In Mimi’s words:

"It is a requirement in our communities that children are forced to learn English, while it is illegal to teach them to speak and write their native language (mayan); one we have fought so hard to preserve since ancient times, and which in contemporary times is already in danger of disappearing".

But there is more defiance than despair in her voice, as she walks through the sunlit aisles of Ú-Tópicas, a feminist bookstore located in the south of Mexico City, which welcomes you in its embrace of the dissidenses, and whose walls represent a safe space for the expression of art, literature and social movements.

Despite the adversities, not everything is lost. As Wendy declares, knowledge is still alive. It is yet another form of resistance often expressed orally.

"I could even say that in the community, the most effective way of transmitting our knowledge lies in the words that come out of our mouths, from the oral transmission of wisdom. In the stories that our grandparents told us about nature, animals, plants, our deities and the hills,"

she exclaims as she revisits the happiness of her childhood memories. "Hills that sadly, nowadays, have begun to dry up because of the accelerated rise of the earth's temperatures", declares Armando, as his face retains the omnipresent nostalgia of today’s changing times.

The future is in collectives that lead with diversity and intersectionality

The key to Indigenous resistance and climate justice, according to Mimi, lies in the networks forged between collectives. In the ability to generate a force led by unity, that resists violence, intervention and imposition.

"Power began to be seen as the capacity to do something. We are capable of self-management, of organizing among ourselves. To forge sustainable webs between our communities that feed each other without being invasive or seeking homogenisation. We are capable of recognising ourselves as parts of a territory —seeking to lead with intersectionality and diversity of perspectives— to achieve a common good that sees its fruits materialized in the flourishing of individuals and in their ecosystems,"

Armando mentions with optimism in his eyes, born all the way down from his heart. "One that does not lie in any extractivist practice, but rather lies in the being," says Mimi.

Achieving systemic change to stop violence against Indigenous communities is not only the task of collectives and social movements. It is the duty of societies that, for a long time, have failed to recognise restorative efforts and continued with the discrimination and marginalisation of those native to the land. "It is important that, as one nation, we unite against vertical structures. Against the capitalist, oppressive and dehumanizing vision, which is widely promoted and upheld in our current political systems," Armando points out firmly. 

Promoting a vision that stands up for children as the future generation 

The work of Futuros Indígenas also puts the future of children and their ability for empathy and solidarity at its heart. No matter what community, territory, nation or region they come from, today’s children are the future inheritors of our planet. As Wendy mentions, "children have their own logic for visualizing the world around them. As adults, we sometimes do not understand it, but in their acceptance and empowerment lies the key to redefining new ways of being and knowing. Systems that lead us to building diverse communities."

"We must look through a vision that advocates for cyclical and autonomous structures that give back a future to our children. Let them see the green hills again, immerse themselves in the plethora of our customs, and feel, for the first time, that happiness we once longed for when we were children,"

exclaims Mimi, while tears well up in the glow of her brown eyes. Deep inside me, I know those are tears coming from resistance, from euphoria, from an unstoppable sense of freedom.

It is essential that the international human rights community exerts pressure on mainstream media outlets to amplify the voices and demands of Indigenous communities, in addition to making visible the direct and indirect violence that is continuously being exercised against them. Solidarity with a movement like Futuros Indígenas means carrying out a process of social accountability for the knowledge, territories and lifestyles they have profusely defended and, yet, continue to be deprived of.   

To build a narrative in which an Otomí boy’s life is not at risk in the hands of indifferent flames ever again, it is necessary to work cohesively so that he melts in the warmth of a fraternal embrace of collective acceptance and love.


I am infinitely grateful to María Reyes, whose activism in Futuros Indígenas represented the main inspiration for this article. I also thank the U-Tópicas bookstore for providing a safe and welcoming space for taking pictures and conducting the interview. Above all, I thank Mimi, Wendy, and Armando — members of the Futuros Indígenas movement— for sharing their stories and experiences within the conservation and restoration work carried out in their communities. Their narratives inspire me to forge an inclusive, intersectional vision in my activism and advocacy.


 
 

Written by activist Santiago Flores Medina, with the testimonies of Wendy, Mimi and Armando (members of Futuros Indígenas). The testimonies were originally given in Spanish, and were translated into English by Santiago.

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