The National Coordination of Widows of Guatemala (la Coordinadora Nacional de Viudas de Guatemala: CONAVIGUA) has a website, which you can find here: http://conavigua.tripod.com/, as well as a Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Conavigua-Guatemala-457506251121355/. Both pages are in Spanish. The major participants of this group are Guatemalan women whose husbands were killed in the Guatemalan Civil War. The objectives of this group include food, peace, equal education, protection for widows and mothers, protection for indigenous women, socioeconomic equality, and equal rights for indigenous communities. The group also seeks integration to la Unidad de Accion Sindical y Popular (UASP), a major union organization in Guatemala. CONAVIGUA, as well as the community the organization represents, faces some serious threats, in addition to the factors that led to the creation of the group in the first place. According to the website, members of CONAVIGUA have been threatened with violence by government soldiers for speaking out.
Author: goitys
Summary of Now Peru Is Mine
In Now Peru Is Mine: The Life and Times of a Campesino Activist, Manuel Llamojha Mitma and Jaymie Patricia Heilman present a testimonio of Llamojha’s lifelong activism and struggles against socioeconomic and racial oppression in Peru—and across the globe, to some extent—throughout the 20th century. Now Peru Is Mine illustrates the idea that nonviolent resistance, especially activism involving the written word, can be far more effective than violent means with respect to achieving social progress.
The book begins by outlining the events of Llamojha’s early life that led him on his activist path. Although Llamojha was born to an indigenous peasant family in a community with a severely low literacy rate, his father taught him to read and write at a young age. Llamojha witnessed the abuses of the hacendados firsthand, and these injustices, in conjunction with his literacy, inspired in him a desire to lead and make a difference. He initially intended to become a priest, but was unjustly rejected as a result of his race and class. He then joined the military, planning to use his service as the jumping-off point for a revolution, but was dismissed for these very same revolutionary inclinations. Over time, Llamojha learned more about the systems of oppression operating in Peru, through books, word of mouth, and his personal observations. He became secretary general of a migrant club in his community, challenging the local authorities.
Next, Llamojha and Heilman focus on Llamojha’s activism with the Jhajhamarka hacienda. Llamojha would use his ever-present typewriter, as well as makeshift seals and other “official” devices, to compose complex legal documents. The authorities constantly harassed him, occasionally forging documents to brand him a communist. Llamojha observes that he was in jail so often that it became like home to him. He was even forced to fake his own death at one point in order to evade arrest. This constant turmoil was difficult for his family to handle at times. While Llamojha was in jail, he also continued his activism. Eventually, he was elected personero legal of Concepción, a position to which he continued to be reelected over the years.
Llamojha was later elected secretary general of the Confederación Campesina del Perú, and in the sixties he traveled to various socialist countries, including Cuba, the Soviet Union, and China. Llamojha criticized the brand of communism practiced by the USSR, favoring instead the peasant-oriented communism of Mao’s China. Upon his return, Llamojha was jailed for an entire year. Unfortunately, in the seventies, schisms developed within the CCP in response to the state-enforced agrarian reforms of the Velasco military government. Llamojha and others opposed the regime because they felt the reforms were insufficient, and disempowered the peasant class. During this period, various other disputes also arose within the left.
Next, Llamojha and Heilman recount likely the darkest period in Llamojha’s life: the loss of his son Herbert. Herbert was wrongfully arrested on suspicion of involvement in a terrorist attack perpetrated by the Shining Path. Disturbingly, he was turned in by Llamojha’s own brother, who was apparently sympathetic to the hacendado cause. The Shining Path later attacked the prison in which Herbert was being held, and he escaped, but he was never officially seen again. This tragedy profoundly devastated Llamojha and his family. In this regard, Llamojha and Heilman present a pointed critique of violent revolutionary tactics like those employed by the Shining Path and other militant organizations.
Now Peru Is Mine addresses issues that are echoed within a plethora of scholarly works, including Waskar Ari-Chachaki’s essay “Between Indian Law and Qullasuyu Nationalism: Gregorio Titiriku and the Making of AMP Indigenous Activists, 1921-1964.” Both works demonstrate the power of literacy in terms of organizing movements and effecting social progress. Like Llamojha, intellectual activist Gregorio Titiriku had a father who taught him to read and write early in his life. Like Llamojha, these abilities inspired and allowed for Titiriku’s career as an activist. Finally, for both Llamojha and Titiriku, the knowledge of and familiarity with the intricacies of their respective governing institutions provided by literacy was instrumental in their success. This connection is important because it demonstrates that the effectiveness of Llamojha’s writing-oriented, nonviolent resistance is not an isolated aberration. These forms of activism work across the globe and across historical time periods, not just in Peru and not just during the period of Llamojha’s work.
Llamojha and Heilman’s message regarding the importance of this kind of resistance can be seen in one passage in the book in particular, which depicts some highly meaningful images. In Chapter Two, “‘I Made the Hacendados Tremble’: Defending Jhajhamarka Campesinos, 1948-1952,” specifically on pages 47 through 52, Llamojha and Heilman describe how Llamojha used his typewriter and makeshift stamps to draw up documents. Llamojha recounts that he used to carry his typewriter wherever he went so that he would always be prepared to draft petitions, formal requests, memos, and the like, if the situation should present itself. He goes on to explain that he would then take these documents directly to the national government himself, bypassing the local authorities. In doing so, Llamojha was time and time again able to win important rights and protections for his people, going so far as to “make the hacendados tremble.” The image of Llamojha carrying his typewriter around wherever he would go is especially striking because it contrasts so strongly with more traditional images of revolutionaries carrying guns and other weapons. Llamojha’s example affirms the adage that the pen (or typewriter, as the case may be), is truly mightier than the sword.
Works Cited
Ari-Chachaki, Waskar. “Between Indian Law and Qullasuyu Nationalism. Gregorio Titiriku and the Making of AMP Indigenous Activists, 1921-1964.” Bolivian Studies Journal/Revista De Estudios Bolivianos, vol. 15, 2011, pp. 91–113., doi:10.5195/bsj.2010.11.
Mitma, Manuel Llamojha, and Jaymie Patricia Heilman. Now Peru Is Mine: the Life and Times of a Campesino Activist. Duke University Press, 2016.