“Come hear the secret.” She beckons us.
“The secret of Mother Earth.”
It is a clear afternoon at la catedral in San Cristóbal de las Casas when, suddenly, dozens of masked figures in robes of red, green, and blue pour into the square. Those robed in red look menacing—their handmade masks are decorated with bones—and they hiss and snarl at the crowd. Two such creatures carry signs that look like fangs. One reads “Mon,” the other, “Santo.” Behind them, a pair of legs protrudes from beneath a large yellow sheath of corn that says OGT, or, organismos genéticamente transformados, (genetically modified organisms).
Those robed in green wear masks that resemble the Olmecas—“the Mayans’ grandparents” as the spectacle’s spokeswoman tells us. “She” is Jesusa Rodriguez and she is joined by the students of the Centro Hemisférico’s “Art and Resistance” course, who have spent three weeks learning about art as a tool for social action and are now called upon to practice it.
“Come hear the secret.” Jesusa calls, waving onlookers in. Behind her, the Olmecas stand proudly in front of la cruz facing la catedral. In their hands are sheaths of corn and they raise them toward the sky. The demons of Monsanto cackle and dance before them. Jesusa strikes a small gong—they freeze.
“We are facing one of the greatest threats of all time,” she tells us. “In addition to violence, this government has opened the doors to one of the worst threats we have ever seen…maíz transgénico (genetically modified corn).” Jesusa asks us how it is possible for the insatiable mouth of Monsanto to devour everything in its path—and then vomit it up again.
“Corn is our culture.” Approval ripples through the crowd. “Blue! Red! Black!” She cries, asking if we are willing to stop eating tortillas. The crowd murmurs no. It is a ridiculous question.
The gong rings again. The red demons hoot. They lunge toward the crowd. They circle the Olmecas.
“Monsanto wants to be the only one selling corn.” According to Jesusa and thousands like her in the movement to stop Monsanto and its genetically modified corn from advancing throughout Mexico, GMO monocultures kill biodiversity and pose endless health risks due to inadequate safety testing.
“How can we stop them? What is a non-violent way to stop Monsanto?”
The crowd is silent. No one knows what to say. We look at each other. A child interrupts.
“Throw them in the river!” He shouts.
“Throw them in the river?” Jesusa echoes. “Is that what we should do?”
No. We know the answer. Non-violence, remember?
“Burn the fields!”
“¡Echarle machete!”
More voices call out. We smile at the fearless children behind the jubilant gritos but know that we still haven’t discovered the secret that lured us in to begin with—the secret of Mother Earth.
Ready for it?
Amaranta, otherwise known as alegría or “happiness,” is a plant that chokes out GMO crops. Every time Jesusa says the word “amaranta,” the red demons sneeze and wince, backing away from the Olmecas. Anonymous voices join her from the growing semi-circle of onlookers.
“In the face of Monsanto, nature responded with an abundance of…happiness!” Jesusa shouts. “We must fight violence with joy.”
We are called upon to plant amaranta in our fields and to sow joy in our lives. The secret is not in fighting violence with violence but reaping hearts full of happiness–and a bit of amaranta.
The red demons have been defeated and we watch as the sheath of GMO corn is destroyed. The violence of monoculture has not survived Mother Earth’s joy. Now the robed figures invite us to dance with them—the drum beat has changed. It’s time to celebrate.
Don’t we hope the story ends this way? With a drum and a dance and a cause for celebration? How much joy would it take to save the planet? Where can you plant happiness in your life? Will you sow non-violence in your garden? And invite the ones you love to learn the secret?
“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”
Martin Luther King Jr.