“A future with traditions,” was the slogan the indigenous movement popularized during the 1992 Quincentennial, the 500th anniversary of Europe’s discovery of the Americas. The slogan was a sign that even as indigenous peoples were turning to tradition, to the past, as a means of “re/membering” themselves as viable cultures and peoples, they were also looking to information technology—computers, e-mail and then-embryonic forms of the Internet—as a tool to help eliminate rampant racism, persistent injustice and the economic marginalization of indigenous peoples. The decentralized links and networks that could be forged via these technologies were seen as furthering democratization and the formation of new, less homogenized or essentialized indigenous identities.
In 1994, Subcommandante Marcos issued the first messages about the Zapatista uprising via e-mail, and Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes dubbed it “the first postmodern revolution.”[1] In the following years, indigenous peoples lobbied for technological aid in Europe, the United States and Canada. Nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) responded with donations of computers and other equipment and with help in getting computer systems up and running, while other indigenous peoples found other ways to get online. Now, a decade after the Quincentennial, it’s time for an assessment: Have these new technologies fulfilled the promise they seemed to hold for indigenous peoples? Has cybercommunication strengthened solidarity, or just increased the amount of specialized knowledge that supporters have about a few indigenous struggles? Has the Internet helped bring to justice culprits that continue to violate indigenous territories and peoples? The answers are yes, and no.
Today, virtually all major indigenous confederations, nations, and tribes have been able to set up a webpage, but not all of them can afford to update or effectively manage the posted information. Many indigenous organizations have used their computers to create databases on biodiversity, traditional ecological knowledge and other interests, write dictionaries in their own languages, circulate urgent actions, research papers, keep debates going on the web, and close the gap between indigenous peoples and their advocates. But there was also the case of an indigenous organization that collected meager contributions from its members to pay for a phone line, printer ink and paper and other needed supplies. Eventually they opted to return the PC. It had meant extra expenditures that they were unable to afford. And there had been too many hands circulating too many discs. At the end, the system got a virus and the hard drive crashed.
A few daring indigenous entrepreneurs have gained economically, marketing their goods in an effective manner via the Internet. Otavalo weavers from Ecuador established business contacts in Europe. Kuna Indians in Panama have collaborated with foreign environmentalists on ecosystem preservation. But surfing the web remains a luxury in many Indian areas, and in some indigenous territories phone service and even electricity are unavailable, making Internet use nearly impossible.
What’s more, keeping a computer system running requires specialized knowledge of intricate computer languages, software, and constantly changing computer technologies. This has led to the creation of a new stratum of indigenous activists who have abandoned political activism to gain individually from their new skills. This has contributed to the marginalization of smaller indigenous organizations, as their few trained computer specialists have found profitable positions in the new economy.
On the plus side, technical assistance is increasingly shared as more cultural exchanges have occurred between indigenous peoples of the North and the South. Every summer thousands of North American and European students who have computer skills make their way South to work with Indigenous organizations. Even though very few U.S. and European NGOs sponsor computer training for indigenous peoples, in these ways computer knowledge is being redistributed, and technophobia is declining little by little.
But the first generations of donated computers have already been turned into junk by the fast pace of cybernetic progress in the developed world. (Remember the Kaypro?) Upgrading and updating software and computers has become a priority for many indigenous organizations, a matter of survival. In many cases, indigenous peoples’ ability to acquire new computer technologies has largely depended on personal ties and ability to network with core NGOs, universities and researchers. This has led to a “politics of exclusion”: while a few “visible” organizations receive the bulk of foreign support, many others receive nothing. The importance of personal contacts with international funders has also meant that processes of decision-making within many indigenous organizations have remained in clusters of mostly male movers and shakers, an unexpected development where the decentralizing effects of computer communication were supposed to have made native male authoritarianism less viable.
In a sense, then, indigenous worlds are today still divided between the cybernetically informed and the non-informed. There are those that would like to plug in PCs but can’t; there are those who have computers but are getting a headache from them. The more general picture, however, is that the Internet has allowed for more, and more open, participation of indigenous peoples in world affairs. The web has made the world more aware of the various problems faced by indigenous peoples and of their cultural complexity. The voices of more indigenous peoples are being heard; indigenous organizations are able to mobilize global support for local causes. The best examples so far of indigenous organizations that have gained from the use of information technology are the Zapatistas, the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE) and an extensive network of indigenous peoples and human rights advocates known as the Coordinating Body of Indigenous Peoples of the Amazon Basin. In Ecuador, CONAIE used computer networking to help organize mass mobilizations that led to the ouster of two presidents: Abdala Bucaram in 1997 and Jamil Mahuad in 2000. The mobilizations contributed to the creation of a new, pluricultural Ecuadorian nation-state.
Contemporary indigenous nationalities displaced from their place of origin —the so-called “invisible Indians”—also continue to maintain vital connections with their communities and sympathizers via the Internet . These include Zapotecs, Mixtecs and Mayas who have migrated in the thousands from Mexico and Central America to the agricultural areas of the United States.
The slogan “cyberdemocracy in a ‘glocal’ context” has also gained meaning as global networking has pressed centralized organizations that were mostly run by non-indigenous administrators to redesign their missions and shed previous forms of hierarchical control. These include the soon-to-be-dismantled Mexican Indigenist National Institute and Brazil’s Indigenist Missionary Council (CIMI). The European information center “doCip” has provided research assistance to world indigenous leaders in the Working Group on Indigenous Peoples and now doCip is offering substantial follow-ups to UN discussions relevant to the future of indigenous peoples.[2] Recently, the High Commissioner for Human Rights has taken charge of the Implementation of the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Peoples.
But the fact is that growth of cybercommunication has also made it easier for governments to keep watch on and control indigenous movements, for example via such multinational cybersurveillance projects as Echelon. And though the Internet and e-mail have made responding to human rights alerts easy and fast, it is not clear if these technologies have increased activists’ ability to get action on or resolution of serious human rights abuses. Indeed, human rights violators have recently acted with what seems to be increasing impunity. This has been the case in the recent murders of Mexican human rights lawyer Digna Ochoa, ten Guaraní activists in Bolivia’s Landless Movement, and two Workers Party leaders in Brazil. Cyberactivism was ineffective in preventing the recent imprisonment in Chile of two leaders of the Mapuche organization Aukin Wallmapu Ngulam.
In any case, information transmitted over the Internet can reach only those indigenous peoples and individuals who have access to a computer. Not only is computer access difficult in many indigenous territories, but the countries and regions that have the largest indigenous populations tend to have the lowest rates of computer access. As an example, in Canada the rate of PC use is 53%. In Bolivia, the rate is less than one per cent. According to IDC, a division of International Data Group, by the year 2003 Internet users will skyrocket to 29.6 million in Latin America. But price will remain an obstacle for many Latin Americans.
The average monthly cost of Internet service from major providers in Latin America is about $17. In several parts of Latin America, a monthly minimum wage is equivalent to $50 dollars. In Mexico City, a marginal inhabitant could survive on two dollars a day.
The 2001 dotcom meltdown and the 2002 recession are likely to further reduce the availability of information technology to indigenous peoples. And a major challenge remains: Making information technology accessible to indigenous women in Latin America. This group is less likely than indigenous men to be exposed to and to use computers due to higher rates of illiteracy, both linguistic and computer.
In any case, computer users do not need to be owners of PCs. The proliferation of Internet cafes even in remote areas of the Americas is encouraging easier and less costly—though sporadic—computer use by indigenous individuals. Cybercafes charge for time spent on the Internet, so users are discouraged from thoroughly exploring the web; sites that charge a fee for access, or require the use of credit cards, limit websurfing. But at a minimum, the cafes make it possible for individuals to send and receive messages, a positive development.
Meanwhile, indigenous peoples do not see cybercommunication as a substitute for traditional organizing, but rather as a catalyst to it. It will still be important to bring people into the streets in the Americas, and the Internet can help bring them there.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Guillermo Delgado-P. is a human rights activist and teaches in the Latin American studies department at the University of California/Santa Cruz.
NOTES:
1. See Deedee Halleck, “Zapatistas Online,”NACLA Report, XXVIII No. 2, Sept/Oct 1994. Available at http://www.nacla.org/volume.php?vol=28
2. DoCip has compiled CD-ROMS containing the UN reports. Available from docip@docip.org
