May 18, 2006 ANTH 250 Prof. Tavárez Indigenous Revitalization Movements of Latin America: The Rediscovery of Language and Identity Humans, in the process of defining themselves, look to immediately recognizable factors in order to differentiate themselves from others. This process leads to the development of what can be broadly termed culture: a group of people joined by characteristics, traits, and beliefs comes to view themselves as sharing a distinct identity, discernible from that of those “outside” them, those who do not belong. Naturally this can be signaled by any number of things - clothing, food, lifestyle choices. One of the most dominant and easily noted factors is language. The command of a language, while not affording guaranteed access to the community which speaks it, is often the key to gaining entry. In turn communal identity can be formed around a language; it is used as the focal point around which the group gathers. Therefore when considering the indigenous revitalization movements which began in 20th century Latin America, the impact of those indigenous languages on those movements and the nature of the identity of the peoples themselves is key. Language plays a complex and integral role in the development and redefinition of an identity, particularly when that identity has been oppressed and subsumed by a dominant other for as long as that of the indigenous peoples in Latin America has. In particular I will examine two divergent yet remarkably parallel cases, that of the Maya in Guatemala and the Nasa and Guambiano peoples of Colombia. Their struggle to attain status in societies still bearing the marks of Spanish colonialism is deeply tied to their struggle to reaffirm the nature of their “indigenous identity”, and is in turn linked to the interaction of Spanish and their native languages. The effects of Spanish colonialism are both far-reaching and deeply embedded in both countries. One of the most prominent, lasting influences is that of the land grant system. Initially the Spanish government attempted to instate the encomienda system, in which a conquistador maintained direct control over the indigenous peoples and their land. This was in turn replaced by the repartimento; the natives were allowed to maintain control over their land and their laws but remained in every way the inferior of the Spanish, providing labor and taxes as demanded. In reality land ownership rights were the exclusive right of the Spanish, resulting in modern-day malappropriation of land ownership in the hands of the descendants of the Spanish colonialists (Warren 1978, 7-8). Indigenous peoples are commonly sharecroppers or migrant workers. The impoverished plight of the native populations was first recognized by the Marxist movements of the early 20th century. Those were the first to articulate the necessity of affirming the independent identity of the indigenous populations; previously, both the left and right maintained a belief in indigenous assimilation into the dominant Spanish culture. The Marxists, on the contrary, argued that the indigenous peoples possessed a unique identity. However, they also claimed that they were part of a larger group, the working class, whose poverty was a direct result of American imperialism; therefore they should join these new popular leftist movements in order to reorganize society into a worker-friendly one (Jackson 1995: 6-7). In Colombia this resulted in a civil war between the Liberal and Communist parties and Conservative party. A truce established between the Liberals and Conservatives failed to meet the demands of the Communists, who in turn sustained guerrilla attacks in response. Guerrilla warfare has since become a part of Colombian life; multiple groups maintain an ongoing presence, often stationing themselves in the remote mountainous villages often populated by various indigenous peoples. This is similar to the situation of Guatemala: the government felt it needed to battle communism, an “armed and dangerous menace within”, plunging the country into civil warfare in the 1960s and continuing through the 1980s (Warren 1993: 25). This resulted in persecution against the Mayans, who make up about 60% of the overall population. In both counties, guerrillas were often associated with the native peoples; in many cases there were coalitions, but in others the guerrillas merely used the remote, inaccessible villages as hideouts. In Guatemala over 450 villages were destroyed, 200,000 Mayans were killed, and over 1 million more were displaced. The main guerrilla force was demilitarized in 1996 with the establishment of a peace accord (Warren 2002: 157-158). The growth in popularity and militarism of these popular leftist movements is intertwined with the development of the indigenous revitalization movements. By the 1970s the need to assert a cause separate from the general left was seen, and indigenous rights movements formed (Warren 2003: 174, Jackson 2002: 82). Central to these was the question of indigenous identity: largely lost amidst the overwhelming Spanish influence, local leaders sought to rediscover their native roots and redefine what it meant to be a part of indigenous culture. Pan-Mayanism in particular has sought to organize itself around the Mayan language; despite local dialectical differences, it is seen as the unifying force behind the diverse Mayan people. Most still speak it in various forms, and efforts by Mayan linguists to standardize the language are producing a coherent, modern version of Maya (England 2003: 733, 739). Pan-Mayanism has succeeded in part due to its focus on issues of ethnicity; it largely avoids specifically political overtones, instead concentrating on the development of the reemerging Mayan culture (England 2003: 734). The popular left, however, continues to see the rhetoric of ethnic rights as a politically viable tool. It therefore often invokes the banner of indigenous rights in its own discourse . The Pan-Mayan movement thus benefits from the lasting influence of the popular left on Guatemalan governmental policies without risking drawing the (often negative) attention of the government (England 2003: 735, Warren 2003: 181). A main concern among pan-Mayanists is the reversal of the long-seated inferiority complex of the Mayan people; despite their position as majority within the Guatemalan population, they remain impoverished and marginalized on the fridge of society. This results in part from the ingrained influences of Spanish colonialism: Spanish continues to be associated with modernity and social mobility, whereas Maya is seen as backward and inferior. Pan-Mayan leaders therefore seek to develop a return to Maya as it was in its classical renaissance, a language of power and prestige (England 2003: 736). By doing so they hope to inculcate among the Mayan peoples a renewed sense of pride which will in turn reverse the dogma of Spanish superiority. Colombia, in contrast, has no unified "pan-Indian" sentiments; the indigenous population is a small fraction of the overall population, a fractured entity divided by region and language. Several competing and oftentimes conflicting indigenous rights advocacy groups have developed: the ONIC poses itself as the sole pan-Indian group, yet lacks legitimacy in the eyes of many indigenous peoples (Jackson 2002: 83, 85). The CRIC, which focuses on language development and renewal, is primarily representative of the Nasa peoples (Jackson 2003: 82). It often stands in conflict with the AICO, its Guambiano counterpart (Jackson 2003: 83-84). Whereas the Mayanists benefit from a single main identity, those of Colombia must operate under historical differences between the various ethnic groups (Jackson 2002: 109). The Nasa and Guambiano have stood in opposition since pre-colonial times; therefore any coalition between the two advocacy groups is tenuous at best (Rappaport 2005: 2). This reflects a desire among the peoples themselves to maintain distinct ethnic identities, both from the Spanish Colombian population and each other. In the 1990s the rhetoric of "cultural diversity" was picked up the Colombian media, and subsequently entered the consciousness of the greater metropolitan public, thereby cementing its place in Colombian society as necessity and further complicating the role of indigenous movements in gaining rights for indigenous peoples as a whole. A major success in the Colombian saga is the revamped constitution of 1991, which includes a section on indigenous rights, as the Congress which drafted it included representatives from native groups (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 57). Central is a return to the old land grant system stemming from the repartimentos of the colonial era along with judicial sovereignty. While the repartimento was originally used to repress the indigenous groups, it is now used to support them: resguardos, or communally owned plots of land, are granted to communities. They are ruled by the cabildo, local governing boards formed of community leaders (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 51-52). The return to customary law reflects a substantial shift in indigenous identity: no longer ruled by Western laws and discourse, communities are forced to assess the efficacy of their old judicial systems in light of the modern era. The oral nature of jurisprudence directly conflicts with the desire of the Colombian government to codify law, and questions of human rights violations are common as punishments are often corporal in nature (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 57-58). The Colombian constitution stands in stark contrast to the failure of the Guatemalan indigenous rights referendum of 1999. Mayans gained formal recognition in 1995 as the majority population in a precursor to the 1996 peace accord; by 1999 its government floated a referendum on an indigenous bill of rights resembling that codified in the Colombian constitution (Warren 2002: 157-158). It failed, despite the Mayan majority; possible reasons include the overwhelming illiteracy rates among the indigenous population and inaccessibility of voting stations (Warren 2002: 149, 151). However, it reflects on a greater level both the desire of many Mayans to assimilate, as they still feel that is necessary for social mobility, and a belief among the general population that Mayans do not require a separate bill of rights as they are covered under the general rights already in the constitution (Warren 2002: 159, 172). Illiteracy rates are in fact correlated with the Mayan language itself: those who speak Spanish are more likely to be literate than those who speak Mayan alone (England 2003: 733). Nonetheless, in 2003 the legislature passed the law of national languages, which while reaffirming Spanish as the official language, recognizes the importance of indigenous languages as part of national identity and encourages their active promotion. While largely symbolic, it is still significant in that Guatemalan identity is seen as encompassing languages other than Spanish. This question of identity as defined by language manifests differently in Guatemala and Colombia. Within the pan-Mayan movement, there remains a desire to maintain linguistic diversity: some view the reduction of their language to the status of "dialect" devalues their unique identity and place in the Mayan world; however, despite differences over standardization, the pan-Mayan movement itself is largely cohesive. In contrast, Colombian indigenous groups are divided to the extent that linguistic diversity is not only valued, but serves to split the population, both between groups and within groups themselves. An example is the Tukanoans: while considered a single “ethnic group”, they maintain 16 distinct language groups and practice linguistic exogamy, in which members of one language group must marry into another (Jackson 1995: 4). Language further works to establish identity by encapsulating a worldview markedly removed from that of the dominant Western culture. Indigenous cosmology, or “cosmovision”, is difficult to translate into Romanticized languages; it maintains a concept of culture, defined as “the form of behavior resulting from a permanent harmonic relationship with Nature” (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 58) and view of history as cyclic that is often at odds with Western modes of thought. Conflict between cultures arise as cosmovision is rediscovered and developed, often by native shamans in tandem with indigenous leaders aided by outside researchers and non-governmental organizations. The differences between Western and native perceptions then lead to conflict within the revitalization movements themselves: the question of embracing Western law and discourse is continually grappled with. It is necessary to work within the national legal system in order to gain policy reform beyond the local level; however, with widely differing concepts of justice a a balance is difficult to achieve. Customary law in Colombia contrasts with Western law as it maintains a different perception of casual relationships: tying back to the indigenous concept of harmony, crimes are viewed as imbalances in the community's harmony and can often be traced back to those who did not perpetuate the crime, but may have influenced the accused to do so. When a punishment - often public and corporal in nature - is carried out, the group feels the effects as a whole. Shamans often sit with the criminal as he fills his sentence, sharing in their ordeal. (Rappaport 2005) Once punishments are completed, the criminal is seen as rehabilitated, having fulfilled his duty to restore harmonic order, and is welcomed back into the community (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 61, Rappaport 2005: 97). Translation of law into native languages has proved to be a difficult task, as Western ideas often have no parallel in indigenous cosmovision. The translation of the Colombian constitution sparked the development of neologisms, as the goal of the translators was not to provide a direct translation of the constitution, but to recapture its spirit in a native, rather than Western discourse (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 58-59). This provides a second interpretation of law distinct from that of the Spanish Colombian culture, and in turn an interpretation aligned with native ideology for the cabildos to follow when governing (Rappaport 2005: 93, 236). Translation fulfills another vital role, as it is employed in the rediscovery of the indigenous identity itself. Workshops and advocacy groups regularly work to translate native histories back into native forms of knowledge, distancing them from the Western influences that have invaded over the past six centuries. The Guambiano history project charts native history as the outward spiraling events which are both cyclic and parallel in nature; Mayan historians translate and document oral histories whose legacy is in danger of being forgotten (Rappaport 2005: 165). This attempt to regain identity via translation is indicative of the intimate relationship between indigenous revitalization within a modern context and native language use. Difficulties arise, however, as conflicts between the traditional and modern and native languages and Spanish develop. Many native peoples in Colombia are monolingual Spanish speakers, raising the question of the practicality of indigenous language use. The differences between cosmovision in Spanish and indigenous languages are great, leading to the difficulty of governing in Spanish yet embracing indigenous mode of thought. In addition, there exists a complex relationship between what are perceived as different levels of indigenous identity; the Nasa, for example, divide themselves into the traditional, modern, and new. The authenticity of the modern Nasa, who are often metropolitan Spanish speakers attempting to reconnect with their roots, is brought into question by the traditional, who speak Nasa Yuwe and lead a rural existence(Rappaport 2005). In Guatemala the fact remains that Spanish is the gateway to social mobility; years of conflict and refugee status have established the desire to leave a rural way of life for an updated urban one, and those literate in Spanish have the tools to do so. Illiteracy and poverty is associated with Maya; thus there is the conflict between the desire to recapture the unique Mayan identity via the language and the need to improve living conditions, which most often occurs under Spanish influence. A further complication is the necessity of establishing authentic “Indianness”, both in the eyes of fellow indigenous peoples and the outside Spanish culture. The ONIC of Colombia lacks legitimacy precisely because it is perceived as not “Indian enough”; it embraces the use of Spanish and Western discourse, leading to distrust among indigenous peoples (Jackson 2002: 85). Politicians make a point of appearing in their native dress and speaking in their native language in assembly, even if they are more at home in a business suit and speaking Spanish; indigenous identity has become a calling card to the extent that at times it appears to be a caricature of itself. The Colombian constitution is problematic in that it provides little guide as to what exactly forms an indigenous group; the concept of culture is so complex and divergent that establishing self-determination in the eyes of the Colombian government requires emphasizing differences. Efforts towards development, then, cannot endanger traditional culture and values, for fear of losing cultural legitimacy (Jackson 1995: 5). There develops a duality in native culture; for example, many Nasa children receive instruction in Nasa Yuwe yet converse in Spanish outside the classroom. An emphasis on preserving, rather than practicing, native culture arises: indigenous authenticity is maintained by sustaining knowledge of traditional practices and beliefs without fully embracing them on a day-to-day basis (Gow and Rappaport 2002: 66-67). This intersection of language and indigenous identity poses challenges which have yet to be fully addressed. In Guatemala, they are largely comprised of the conflict between poverty and progress; the pan-Mayan movement must meet the dual trials of establishing a positive identity within the Mayan population itself and legitimacy in the legal and political arenas in order to gain policy reforms and codified rights in law. In Colombia, legal successes have often come about due to the Colombian government's recognition of the political viability of the rhetoric of indigenous rights; by granting indigenous peoples judicial sovereignty they hope to win the trust of a people who view the government as incapable of protecting them from the ongoing civil strife, and by giving them blocks of land they hope that the indigenous community will be able to keep out drug traffickers and guerrillas where the government itself has not (Jackson 1995: 8). Regardless of the ulterior motives behind their legal status, indigenous peoples in Colombia now possess the rights to teach and govern in their own languages according to their own laws (Jackson 1995: 5). Conflicts arise due to internal differences and the ever-persist problem of defining indigenous identity and authenticity in a pluralistic linguistic environment. Works Cited Gow, David D. and Joanne Rappaport. 2002. “The Indigenous Public Voice: The Multiple Idioms of Modernity.” in Indigenous Movements, Self-Representation, and the State in Latin America. Kay B. Warren and Jean E. Jackson, ed. Pp.47-80. Austin: University of Texas Press. England, Nora C. 2003. “Mayan Language Revival and Revitalization Politics: Linguists and Linguistic Ideologies.” American Ethnologist 105(4):733-743. Jackson, Jean E. 1995. “Culture, Genuine and Spurious: The Politics of Indianness in the Vaupes, Colombia.” American Ethnologist 22(1):3-27. ibid. 2002. “Contested Discourses of Authority in Colombian National Indigenous Politics: The 1996 Summer Takeovers.” in Indigenous Movements, Self-Representation, and the State in Latin America. Kay B. Warren and Jean E. Jackson, ed. Pp.81-122. Austin: University of Texas Press. Rappaport, Joanne. 2005. Intercultural Utopias. Durham: Duke University Press. Warren, Kay B. 1978. The Symbolism of Subordination. Austin: University of Texas Press. ibid. 1993. “La Violencia in Guatemala.” in The Violence Within. Kay B. Warren, ed. Pp. 25-56. Boulder: Westview Press. ibid. 2002. “Voting Against Indigenous Rights in Guatemala: Lessons from the 1996 Referendum.” in Indigenous Movements, Self-Representation, and the State in Latin America. Kay B. Warren and Jean E. Jackson, ed. Pp.149-180. Austin: University of Texas Press. ibid. 2003. “Pan-Mayan Activism in Guatemala.” in Contemporary Indigenous Movements in Latin America. Erick D. Langer and Elena Munoz, ed. Pp. 169-184. Wilmington: Scholarly Resources.