Luis Hernandez Navarro describes the seamless evoluton of from the times of the plantations and white guards of Chiapas, only 30 years ago, to the paramilitaries and organized crime of today. Memory is a powerful thing.
The meeting was a year ago. One early morning in November. It was cold. Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés arrived at the Captain’s chambers (yes, you are not wrong, by that time SupGaleano had already died, only his death had not been made public). The meeting with the bosses had ended late, and SubMoy took time to stop by and ask me about how I had progressed in the analysis that had to be presented the next day at the assembly. The moon was moving lazily towards its first quarter and the world population reached 8 billion. Three notes appeared in my notebook: