 |
| |
While
we are on the subject of evil... HISTORICAL
EVIL:
"The Triangle Fire," by Leon Stein with a new introduction
by William Greider. (Cornell University Press, 2001.)
EVIL
IN THE RAG TRADE:
"NO SWEAT: Fashion, Free Trade, and the Rights of Garment
Workers," edited by Andrew Ross. (Verso Press 1997.)
BORDERLINE
EVIL:
"Border Witness," by Maureen Casey and Brian Casey. (The New
York State Labor-Religion Coalition, 2002).
COSMIC
EVIL:
"Evil in Modern Thought: An Alternative History of Philosophy,"
by Susan Neiman. (Princeton U. Press, 2002.)
|
|
|
|
 |
|
> NO SWEAT NEWS >
NEWS ARCHIVE
Jose
Mercedes Sotis;
Man Of Principal
The remarkable journey of a Guatemalan union organizer and Amnesty
cause celebre.
Interview by Natalia Muina.
I interviewed Jose Sotis at Mirror Image, (the shop that screens
our T-shirts) where he now works as a union screen printer. Jose
is a small man with sad eyes and an incredibly soft voice which
made his story all the more compelling. Spanish is Joseıs second
language and he is thoughtful and deliberate in his narrative. He
speaks in the gentle sibilant cadence that is Guatemalan Spanish.
Within minutes I was completely engrossed in the story that was
coming so simply from a man who clearly has seen the worst of what
has often passed for Latin American governance. Guatemala, like
so many other countries in Latin America, has been plagued by extreme
poverty of its majority Native population in contrast with the extravagant
wealth enjoyed by its small oligarchy. In the 1980ıs, the repression
in Guatemala hit an acute peak with the disappearance and murder
of union activists, student activists, peasant activists and anyone
who was branded by the government as Communist. Jose was one of
these and this is his story. ----
Jose Mercedes Sotis was born in a small
Mayan village in Guatemala to a family of subsistence farmers. As
for most Indian children, there was no school to attend. From a
very early age, he helped his father tend the crops. He bought his
first pair of shoes in early manhood, with the wages he earned loading
and unloading trucks in a nearby small town. Still very young, he,
like many young Indians with very narrow prospects in their own
home turf, decided to try his luck in the capital city, Guatemala.
With his fatherıs reluctant blessing and a small amount of the money
heıd earned, he set off for the capital.
After arriving in Guatemala City, he was
employed at a series of grueling and dangerous construction jobs
where he earned little and put up with the daily humiliations that
Indian peasants who migrated to the city, unskilled and uneducated,
were subjected to. He had a lucky break when he met a man from his
village who knew the mayor of Guatemala and convinced Jose that
he could get him a job.
As it turned out, the mayor hailed from
their region and was happy to give Jose a municipal job. Jose worked
hard and also enrolled in school where he learned Spanish, reading,
writing and arithmetic. He made quick progress in school , earning
a fifth grade education. At about this time, he met some people
from the union representing municipal workers. They talked to him
about workersı rights and employersı responsibilities to their workers.
Jose was very reluctant at first but when he finally attended his
first union meeting and listened to the speeches and felt the camaraderie
he felt he had come home. He saw that the union was willing to stick
its collective neck out for all the workers and that experience
started his transformation from timid peasant to assertive , vocal
unionist, learning to fight for workersı rights. He bought {at considerable
expense} a municipal code book where he could look up employer violations
and did not hesitate to point them out.
Then it was that I understood the word Ocommunityı and realized
that the unions which the government had labeled communist, were
only looking out for us, the workers. We knew there were laws and
statutes governing workersırights and that we had a right to see
them enforced. And we [the union] became very disciplined. It was
then that I lost my fear of speaking out. Once Iıd learned the laws
governing labor I was ready to go out and defend my companeros.
I became very brave with fear for neither the president nor the
mayor nor any municipal functionary. I became aware of many injustices
such as workers losing their jobs because they had not voted for
the politicians in office.
I became the Secretary of Technical Issues
dealing mostly with workers who dug ditches for pipes and electricity.
I was to make sure they had hard hats, boots and other protective
clothing for job safety. My first assignment was to deal with a
private company which had been contracted by the city to open up
tunnels for sewer lines. This company had just ³borrowed² municipal
workers, who were trained for other work, to go down eighty meters
below ground , without hard hats or boots , and start digging tunnels.
When I arrived on the site and saw this I said to the workers, OConpaneros,
you must stop this work right now and come with me. We will speak
to the engineer and we will bring you back to your regular jobs.ı
The engineer then told us that the mayor had ordered this to happen.
I told him the workers were not cattle to be transferred at the
mayorıs whim. They should be transferred back to their regular jobs
and compensated at their regular salaries. Otherwise, we would expose
this company as exploiters of workers and we wouldl expose the mayor
for illegally transferring workers and for claiming there was no
money to pay them while at the same time increasing the salaries
of his cronies, many of whom never even showed up for work.²
This is how I was able to extricate some
companeros from that company which did pay them a salary, and the
mayor said nothing. When I achieved this, I felt the happiest man
alive. As a young boy, living in that small village with my parents
I could never have imagined all I would learn, all I would be able
to accomplish in the struggle for workersı rights. There is nothing
that cannot be done with patience and persistence.
There were many other successful campaigns,
including one which freed some workers who had been accused of stealing
on the job as night guardians at a warehouse, simply because the
mayor wanted their jobs as rewards for his supporters. ³The mayor
was by this point very furious. He didnıt know what to do with our
union. He complained to the president and demanded action. By that
point [early 80ıs] there were many irregularities coming from the
government. They started using tactics to discredit and humiliate
us. Some union activists were assassinated. One of my companeros
was killed as he left his home for work, early one morning, with
a bullet to the forehead. We accused the mayor of being behind the
murder, of utilizing thugs from the National Police Academy and
the death squads recruited directly from the army. We knew we were
in danger-we were using the press,tv and radio to accuse the mayor
and the government of responsibility in disappearances, murders,
massacres of anyone who dared stand up against them. The widespread
violence began around 1984 and still occurs , with less frequency.
At one point, I was abducted after leaving
a union meeting, by a car full of thugs, whom I recognized as disguised
military. They lay me down in the back, on the floor, blindfolded.
They kicked and punched me and threatened me with torture and death,
while driving for a long time. Then they took m e to this dark place
with big double doors. They beat me long and hard and left me for
dead. After a while, I found my way through the doors and into the
street. I was bleeding from my head and face. There was no one about.
After cleaning myself up as best as I could, I finally saw a pedestrian
and asked directions. I had to take a bus. People on the bus stared
but no one said a word. I made my way home. I had been missing for
almost twenty-four hours.
For Jose, the violence culminated in 1986,
when his young son was shot while walking down the street with Jose
- the person for whom the shots were meant.
I was walking down the street with my son.
It was a holiday and there were people on the street and much noise.
Firecrackers would go off frequently, so when I heard them close,
I did not react. My son fell down on the street and I still did
not know. I said, OSon, get upı, and he said , OI cannotı. I said,
OGet up, get up!ı and then I saw he was pale. I picked him up and
only then saw the blood. I started shouting and running. We arrived
at the hospital, where they took him from me. I had to call his
mother and tell her what had happened and that was the most difficult
thing I have ever had to do. A friend drove her to the hospital
and we waited until they came out and told us our son would live
but a bullet had severed his spinal cord and he would never walk
again. I was desperate to do something to help my son. The Guatemalan
doctors said there was nothing they coulld do but advised us to
come to the U.S. for treatment. We brought him to Boston. While
we were here, I gave speeches, press conferences to anyone who would
listen, detailing the atrocities being committed by the government
and the military in the name of stamping out communism.
In the meantime, the American doctors tried
to do what they could for my son until they could do no more. We
went back home. After going back, my family and I started receiving
serious death threats. I could not put my family at risk again so
once more we packed ujp and this time we left for good. We have
been in the U.S. since. I work for Rick Roth who was instrumental
iin setting up the press conferences during my first visit. I am
treated with respect and feel very blessed but I never stop thinking
about my country and the suffering of people who are silenced simply
for wanting to be fairly compensated for their labor, for wanting
a better life for their children. That is my story.²
|
| |
 |
| |
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
