THE OBREGÓN ADMINISTRATION, 1920–1924

Led by the most talented general to emerge from the civil wars, Álvaro Obregón, the Sonorans set out to modernize the country along classical capitalist lines, while at the same time realizing personal ambitions that had been frustrated in the stifling atmosphere of the late Porfiriato. Dudley Ankerson, 1984

Following Carranza’s death, Congress selected Adolfo de la Huerta, a former governor of Sonora, as provisional president to serve the remainder of Carranza’s term. Since De la Huerta had not been a military rival of Villa as Carranza had been, he was able to persuade Villa to surrender. In exchange for his surrender, Villa was given Canutillo Hacienda, a 163,000-acre spread situated at the headwaters of the Río Conchos in Durango. Villa was to be defended by a fifty-man guard of his choosing, whose salary was paid by the government. Villa felt such an arrangement would protect

him from his many enemies. In fact, he selected Canutillo because it was easily defendable.

While at Canutillo, Villa created a semi-autonomous military colony, the model he had hoped to implement throughout northern Mexico. He showed his concern for education by establishing a school on the premises. He later commented, “When the day comes that a school teacher earns more than an army general, Mexico will be saved”

Other rebels laid down their arms during De la Huerta’s presidency. Félix Díaz, who had revolted once again in southern Mexico, was allowed to sail to exile in the United States. Many Zapatistas were incorporated into the regular army. De la Huerta not only left Mexico a more peaceful country after his six-month presidency but also substantially reduced the size of the bloated military.

On September 5, 1920, Obregón, facing only nominal opposition, received 95 percent of the votes for president. Since Bonillas had withdrawn his candidacy and Obregón’s backers controlled nearly all the polling places, once again the election served not to select a president but to legitimize a military victor.

On December 1, 1920, Obregón took the oath of office as president. He formed an administration independent of any one sector. Porfirian hacendados were played off against peasants, workers, and emerging industrialists, all of whom were overshadowed by foreign interests and the government.

Local military leaders who had supported Obregón in his showdown with Carranza were rewarded with considerable freedom of action as well as government support. Many of these generals controlled their states and regions like oriental despots.

While accepting the reality of local warlords, Obregón did begin the long process of political centralization. Many local figures were bought off with government jobs or forced into exile. Cabinet members and military commanders were amply rewarded for their support with promotions and the possibility of using their position for personal enrichment. To further extend his power base, Obregón formally allied with the major labor federation, the Regional Federation of Mexican Workers (CROM).

During the Obregón administration, the number and diversity of new organizations was unprecedented. Labor unions, peasant leagues, union federations, and political parties all sought to shape post-revolutionary society to their preferences. Their being organized around regional power centers rather than at the national level limited the effectiveness of these groups. Their sheer numbers and their diverse demands also diminished their impact on policy.

Obregón did not attempt to contain the masses through repression as Huerta had. Rather, reform—or the promise of reform—was used as a means of political control. Obregón’s indulging in radical rhetoric served to whet appetites and make the impoverished look to his administration for change. The terms “class struggle,” “socialism,” and “anti-imperialism” flowed easily from officials’ tongues.

Land reform became a political tool. By the time Obregón left office in 1924, 2.7 million acres, or 3.5 percent of agrarian land, had been distributed. In contrast, as late as 1925, some 79 million acres were foreign owned. His lack of enthusiasm for land reform is understandable, since his personal estate covered 8,645 acres and employed 1,500 workers. Obregón was aware that a sweeping land reform would alienate his most important base of support, the army, many of whose officers had recently acquired haciendas. Obregón stated that subdividing estates would reduce production. He felt that if haciendas were subdivided, “We would put to flight foreign capital, which at this moment we need more than ever.”

Land reform did permit Obregón to consolidate power. In Morelos, where surviving Zapatistas had helped him oust Carranza, Obregón promoted extensive land reform. By 1923, 115 of the 150 towns in the state had received land. Similarly, given the degree of peasant mobilization in Chihuahua, Obregón felt he had no choice but to expropriate the estates of the Terrazas and the Creels and redistribute a large part of them to Chihuahua’s landless.

During the 1920s, given the weakness of the central government, state governors had the leeway to experiment with radical social change. Such change often involved the position of women, land holding, and the role of the Church. These state governments dealt with the major issues incorporated in the 1917 constitution, and their projects were known as laboratories of the

Revolution.

Conservatives furthered their interests, with or without the blessing of the central government. Landowners in Yucatán assassinated progressive governor Felipe Carrillo Puerto in 1924, thus ending his “socialist” experiment. In Chiapas, the governor used all of his power to obstruct the work of the local Agrarian Commissions and to destroy the agrarian movement. In many areas, agrarian leaders who formed peasant leagues to push for their rights under land reform laws were declared “bandits” and murdered. Generals cooperated with local hacendados and state governors to drive off land reform beneficiaries. They used the army as a rural police force, and it sometimes turned its weapons on peasants to maintain the status quo.

Obregón increased social mobility for the middle class. Its members enriched themselves quickly, taking advantage of the power the government gave them. During the 1920s, they became virtually indistinguishable from those whom they had fought during the Revolution. Often their wealth was based on public works contracts or simply on pillaging the public treasury.

By 1922, speculation had begun on who Mexico’s next president would be and how he would be selected. Pancho Villa told an interviewer at Canutillo that he was considering getting back into politics. Villa was not at all discreet, stating, “I have told all my friends the same thing, just wait, when they least expect it, the opportunity will come . . .”42 He bragged that he could “mobilize 40,000 men in 40 minutes.”

Villa also volunteered this statement concerning Adolfo de la Huerta, who had fallen out with Obregón, “Adolfo is a very fine person and very intelligent, he wouldn’t make a bad president.”44 It is not known if this 1922 interview contributed to Villa’s death or not.

In any case, on July 20, 1923, as De la Huerta’s presidential ambitions began to pose a serious threat to the government, gunfire riddled Villa’s car as he drove into town from Canutillo, killing him instantly. In his magisterial biography of Villa, historian Friedrich Katz concluded, “There can, on the whole, be little doubt that the Mexican government was not only implicated in but probably also organized the assassination of Villa.”

Likely Obregón took seriously Villa’s boast that he could mobilize 40,000 men in forty minutes and feared that they would be mobilized in favor of De la Huerta. He also felt that Villa would rally nationalist sentiment by criticizing a pact, known as the Bucareli Accords, which he had made with the United States.

During his term, Obregón personally chose those who would serve as congressmen, senators, and governors. His departure from the presidency began another Mexican political tradition—the out-going president selecting his successor without popular control or even popular involvement.

Obregón chose Plutarco Elías Calles, another general from Sonora, to succeed him. When Calles’s nomination was announced in 1923, General Adolfo de la Huerta, who had served as Obregón’s secretary of finance, attempted a coup. He followed the example set in 1920 by Obregón, who had revolted when he was not selected to succeed Carranza.

De la Huerta’s revolt drew some 50,000 followers, mainly in the north, and had the backing of conservatives, hacendados, and Catholic leaders. Cuts in military spending had once again alienated the army, so half the generals and 40 percent of the troops joined him. The revolt drew support from independent labor, those fearing Calles’s radicalism, and nationalists who resented Obregón’s compromising of Mexican sovereignty by signing the Bucareli Accords.47 Obregón’s alliance with peasants, a product of his populist style, served him well. Feeling that

Calles offered the best hope of land distribution, 120,000 peasants attacked De la Huerta’s lines

of communication, sabotaged supplies, and formed small military units. In addition, U.S.-supplied arms, ammunition, and airplanes, as well as support from organized labor, contributed to De la Huerta’s defeat.

The revolt lasted three months and cost about 7,000 lives. After personally leading the campaign against the rebels, Obregón had fifty-four of its leaders, his former comrades-in-arms, shot. The De la Huerta revolt permanently weakened the military as an institution, since so many generals died or fled into exile. De la Huerta took refuge in Los Angeles, where he gave voice lessons. When elections were finally held, Calles received almost 90 percent of the vote. Most Mexicans

showed little interest and abstained. It was hard to excite potential voters, since opposition was

token at best.

Assassinating Villa and creating schools were exceptions to what was generally a non-activist presidency. Most of the large estates that existed during the Porfiriato were intact at the end of Obregón’s term, although ownership of many of them had passed to generals. It was only in 1922 that industrial production surpassed the level of the late Porfiriato. In 1924, Mexicans probably ate less, had fewer jobs, and enjoyed no greater political rights than they had before the Revolution.

Although the Obregonistas took power under the mantle of Revolution, there was little change. Rather, they destroyed Porfirian privilege, such as monopolies and special tax concessions, and opened opportunity for themselves. These reforms were not addressed to the masses. Obregón, like Madero and Carranza before him, was basically a nineteenth-century liberal whose main goal was to update and streamline Mexican capitalism. Obregón did have the distinction of being the first Mexican president in generations to complete his term and leave office.

THE CARRANZA ADMINISTRATION 1917–1920

In October 1916, Mexicans elected delegates to the Constitutional Convention that Carranza had convoked the previous month. Even though there was only one candidate in some districts, in others there was real competition between would-be delegates. Carranza stipulated that those who had aided any other faction in the Revolution or who had served Huerta in a civil or a military capacity would be ineligible to become a delegate.

 This provision prevented any delegates from representing Villa or Zapata. Also largely excluded from the Convention were agrarian and working class interests as well as representatives of the two main conservative institutions—the old federal army and the Church. The turnout for the election, which did not exceed 30 percent, reflected the lack of interest in the technical issues involved in what was widely billed as a rewriting of the 1857 Constitution. It also indicated a willingness to give the Carrancista leadership a free hand in a process that seemingly had little direct local relevance.

The delegates to the Convention reflected the youth and middle-class origins of the Constitutionalist leadership. Of the 138 whose age is known, twenty-nine were in their twenties, sixty-two were in their thirties, and thirty-one were in their forties. An estimated 85 percent of the delegates were white-collar professionals, including sixty-two lawyers, eighteen teachers, sixteen engineers, sixteen physicians, and fourteen journalists. Carranza presented the Convention delegates, who assembled in Querétaro, with a draft of a new constitution. Delegates could then approve or modify the draft on an article-by-article basis. The draft Carranza presented was very close to the 1857 constitution and did not greatly increase government power. It left largely unaddressed the needs of the landless and workers. It reflected not only the low priority Carranza placed on social reform, as opposed to political reform, but also his belief that social reform could be best addressed by legislation, not a constitution.

Despite having dictated the process for selecting Convention delegates, Carranza proved unable to dominate the Convention once it convened. A radical majority emerged that sought a strong federal government that could challenge the Church and implement social reform. Two figures dominated this reformist wing of the Convention. One, Francisco Múgica, a thirty-two-year old general from Michoacán, represented the reformist elements of the Constitutionalist army and considered redistribution of wealth as a worthy goal in its own right. The other was Obregón, who saw social reforms as necessary for building a solid base of political support.

Although he was not a delegate, Obregón promoted more radical positions and established friendships at the Querétaro Convention that would later prove invaluable to him.

Article 3 of the completed constitution decreed education would be compulsory and without charge. As with other articles, it was out of touch with Mexican reality. With just over 1 percent of the budget earmarked for education, for most Mexican children school attendance was only wishful thinking. The article left education in the hands of states and municipalities, the entities least able or willing to implement it.

Article 27 granted the government the power to control land use for “public utility,” thus providing the legal basis for Mexico’s far-reaching land reform. This article also declared the government owned “all minerals . . . such as . . . petroleum. . ..” It reflected the thinking of Andrés Molina Enríquez, the author of Los grandes problemas nacionales. He rebutted charges that the article was “communistic,” noting that it merely represented a return to the colonial model. In that model, the Crown, or its successor, the state, could never relinquish ultimate ownership of land. According to Molina Enríquez’s thinking, even if individuals were allowed to use land, the Crown and later the state at all times had the power to transfer that land to a new owner for what it considered a better use.

Article 123 contained a rich lode of labor rights, including the right to unionize and strike, the eight-hour day, and equal pay for equal work regardless of one’s gender or nationality. This article also ignored Mexican reality. It prohibited child labor in an economy where such labor was essential for the survival of many families. It was clear to all that the provisions of Article 123 would not be implemented immediately.

Rather, they formed a statement of intent—a promise of better things to come. Miner Nicolás Cano, one of the few workers at the Convention, was prescient in noting that by protecting only “legal” strikes, Article 123 left the door open for business and government to jointly declare strikes illegal and oppress labor. The immediate impact of Article 123 was to convince the labor and peasant movements that they did not need a Villa or a Zapata to be included in the new order.

To correct what was perceived as an excessively weak presidency created by the 1857 constitution, the 1917 document created a strong presidency. Article 76 granted the Senate— which became subservient to the president—the right to remove state governors. Article 71 allowed the president to introduce legislation. As a result of this provision, most of the legislation passed for the rest of the century was in the form of presidential initiative. Article 72 allowed the president to veto legislation, but permitted Congress to override the veto with a two-thirds majority.

The constitution placed one crucial limit on this strong presidency. Article 83 prohibited both immediate presidential reelection and a later return to the presidency à la Porfirio Díaz in 1884. This reflected the belief that the ills of the Porfiriato resulted from Díaz’s repeated reelection.

With the single exception of 1928, this prohibition remained for the rest of the century. In addition, the immediate reelection of mayors and governors was prohibited. These prohibitions remain a cardinal principle of Mexican politics and have had a major impact on shaping the political system.

The 1917 constitution laid the foundation for an activist federal government that could defend the interests of poor Mexicans vis-à-vis hacendados and foreign capitalists. However, this activism took an unexpected form. Carranza and his successors not only wielded the power granted them in the constitution but also viewed it as a document that they could review, amend, or ignore to suit their generally conservative purposes. Despite its spotty application, the 1917 constitution did shape government action, and it remains in force to this day. It significantly influenced social thinking throughout Latin America, and its progressive provisions were widely adopted in legislation and constitutions elsewhere in the region.

In March 1917, elections were held to legitimize Carranza’s presidency. There was no organized opposition, and Carranza received more than 97 percent of the vote. Apparently the only ones to take the election seriously were foreigners. The British minister reported, “My chauffeur could not conceal his amusement when I told him that I wished to go and see the elections.”

Carranza faced a number of challenges once he assumed the presidency. He had to establish control vis-à-vis his rivals, especially Villa and Zapata, who still led irregular forces. Peasants and workers, having been mobilized by the Revolution, demanded that the government take measures to meet their aspirations. At the local level, entrenched warlords and active-duty generals, many of whom obtained power through the Revolution, defended their prerogatives. Implementing any sort of change required undercutting local interests and rebuilding loyalties to the national government. Given Mexico’s economic disarray, merely feeding the population presented a major challenge.

A fusion of Sonoran and Coahuilan groups formed Carranza’s ruling coalition. This leadership, with its northern middle-class roots, prioritized nationalism, not social reform. Just as with Madero before him, Carranza felt the Revolution was over. In June 1917, one of oilman Weetman Pearson’s representatives wrote:

A tendency to conservatism is observable now that the government is well established and is not so dependent on the radical military element. Undoubtedly Carranza is doing his utmost to free himself from the extremists, and the most hopeful sign is, that he is commencing to take into the government offices, some of the old regime.

Carranza shared the conviction of the Porfirian elite that land reform would be a disaster for the Mexican economy and that it would sharply reduce agricultural production. In keeping with this notion, he returned many seized estates to their pre-Revolutionary owners. He felt this would increase tax collection and food production and win the political support of those who recouped their land.

Carranza not only restored large estates to their pre-Revolutionary owners but also declared that he did not think “the agrarian problem important.” During the five years he exercised power, Carranza distributed only 988,000 acres—roughly the size of a large northern hacienda—to 67,193 beneficiaries.

Resistance to the Constitutionalists continued in Morelos, even though Carranza’s army returned to occupy the state in 1917. By 1919, Zapata’s dream had vanished as all the cities and haciendas were reoccupied and lands were returned to their former owners. The remaining Zapatistas were forced into the mountains. They no longer had a clear position. Some made overtures to the government while others spoke highly of the Russian Revolution.

Early in 1919, Zapata contacted Jesús Guajardo, a Carrancista colonel whom Zapata had heard was at odds with his commander. Zapata, desperate for men and supplies, suggested that Guajardo defect. Guajardo pretended he was deserting, along with his troops and their weapons. To convince Zapata of his sincerity, Guajardo even had his troops shoot men who had deserted Zapata and joined his force.

Guajardo met Zapata at Chinameca hacienda in Morelos. Upon entering the hacienda courtyard on April 10, 1919, Zapata was cut down by gunfire from an ambush that Guajardo had laid for him. For his part in the ambush, Guajardo was given 50,000 pesos and promoted to general. After Zapata’s death, the Zapatistas ceased to be a major political force. However, some Zapatistas did remain in the hills until 1920, when the political climate became more favorable.

Many of Carranza’s civil servants, especially at the municipal level, had served under Díaz. He purged progressives from the government and the army and replaced them with politicians and unprincipled militarists.              

Carranza’s civilian appointees began a trend toward personal enrichment through public office on a scale previously unmatched. Such enrichment not only satisfied the desires of those holding power but also bought off challengers. Although Carranza was personally honest, corruption became widespread during his administration. The tone of government changed so radically that by 1920 it was difficult to see any relation between government action and the 1917 constitution. After serving as a senator and governor under Díaz, Carranza, like Madero before him, had no desire to implement sweeping changes.

While Carranza failed to use the promise of social reform to consolidate power, there was someone who was a master at it—his old comrade-in-arms, Álvaro Obregón. After the 1917 Constitutional Convention, amid reports of growing rivalry between the two revolutionary leaders, Obregón resigned his position as secretary of war and “retired” to his estate in Sonora. While there, he profited greatly from brokering Sonora’s chickpea trade. Obregón kept abreast of political events and traveled to the United States, where he met with Secretary of State Robert Lansing.

By 1920, Obregón had allied himself with middle-class military men who were dissatisfied with the tenor of Carranza’s government. His new allies resented the unfulfilled promises of the

Revolution and the increasing power of hacendados. The enrichment of Carrancista officials,

widespread repression, and Carranza’s authorization of the assassination of Zapata only served to increase their dissatisfaction.

In 1919, Carranza attempted to impose his ambassador in Washington, Ignacio Bonillas, as his successor. Bonillas, a virtually unknown engineer who had trained at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, had such close ties to the United States that he was disparagingly referred to as “Meester Bonillas.” Carranza thought he could control Bonillas even after his term was over and thus maintain de facto power. He knew he could not control the outstanding general of the Revolution, Obregón.

In June 1919, Obregón announced his own presidential candidacy. His whistle-stop tours around the country drew enthusiastic crowds. Obregón was already experienced in mass politics, having promised the Yaqui land in exchange for their fighting in the Revolution and having promised workers labor rights in exchange for their formation of battalions during the Revolution. To bolster his presidential candidacy, he turned to organized labor for support. The response Obregón received in Tampico was typical of the labor support he received nationwide. There, at worker’s convention, responding to his charisma, his military record, and his promises of reform, endorsed Obregón over Bonillas by a vote of 1,082 to three in a straw poll.

While Obregón was campaigning, Carranza subpoenaed him to testify in a case involving an officer charged with rebellion. After arriving in Mexico City, Obregón, fearing arrest or assassination, fled to Guerrero disguised as a rail worker. There he formed an alliance with remnants of the Zapatista movement and called for revolt against Carranza. Obregón had the backing of reform-minded military men, peasants, and workers, who saw in him the hope for change. He also had strong backing in his home state of Sonora, where on April 23, 1920, two generals, Plutarco Calles and Adolfo de la Huerta, issued the Plan of Agua Prieta, which repudiated Carranza’s government. As was the case with Carranza’s Plan of Guadalupe, it lacked specific provisions for social reform.

Carranza failed to end rural violence, to fulfill the promises of the 1917 constitution, or to resolve the considerable economic problems the Revolution had created. He had little to offer the middle class, which had emerged as a major political force in the revolutionary army and at the Querétaro convention. The army was alienated by his having reduced military spending. The world recession following the end of the First World War exacerbated poverty in Mexico, making a mockery of the revolutionary slogans that had stoked the hopes of ordinary Mexicans.

On May 7, 1920, realizing that he had little political or military support, Carranza filled sixty rail cars with his backers and their weapons, files, and possessions, as well as gold bars from the national treasury. He set out along the traditional path of Mexico’s fallen leaders, down from the highlands toward Veracruz. He planned to reestablish his government there and launch a counteroffensive from the coast, just as he had successfully done in 1915.

However, Carranza found the rail line had been blocked by rebels well before he reached Veracruz. He abandoned the train and reached the village of Tlaxcalantongo, Puebla, on horseback. There, troops under the command of Rodolfo Herrero assassinated the president in the hut where he was sleeping. Herrero, who had ties to Generals Manuel Paláez and Félix Díaz, held a grudge since Carranza and Carranza’s appointee as governor of Puebla had ordered his father killed.

Obregon’s rapid victory in Mexico’s last successful armed revolt reflected the erosion of Carranza’s support. At the same time, given his military record, Obregón attracted broad military support as well as the backing of many workers and peasants who felt he would carry out the reforms promised in the constitution.

Given his background, it is not surprising that Carranza largely ignored the powerful social demands that emerged during the Revolution. Little progress was made at instilling democracy, as the elections that were held during Carranza’s term were generally considered a farce. Members of opposing factions were not allowed to nominate candidates and there were widespread accusations of fraud. Finally, as became obvious with the Plan of Agua Prieta, no means of presidential succession had been instituted.

Carranza’s strongest legacy is providing an institutional framework—the 1917 constitution— which his successors could build on. Carranza’s nationalism forms another part of his legacy. He increased the taxes on oil companies seven-fold between 1917 and 1920. He was not afraid to challenge foreigners’ property rights and existing contracts to further his nationalistic goals. He was not anti-capitalist or even anti-foreign and did not seek to eliminate foreign investment, but to control it. Carranza unsuccessfully attempted to force foreign oil companies to accept that the Mexican government, by virtue of Article 27, could radically redefine their oil rights.

LECTURA 9 "EL DESTIERRO DE LA VIRUELA"

"EL DESTIERRO DE A VIRUELA"
Miguel Ángel Cevallos
Revista ¿Cómo ves? UNAM

PARA LOS AZTECAS la dualidad, el día y la noche, la luz y las tinieblas, estaban representadas en una sola deidad: Ometecuhtli. La historia de la viruela me hace pensar que el destino de la humanidad bien pudiera estar regido por ese dios. El 22 de mayo de 1980, en la XXXIII asamblea de la Organización Mundial de la Salud (OMS), después de oír el reporte final de la Comisión Global para la Certificación de la Erradicación de la Viruela, se declaró que este terrible padecimiento había sido borrado de la faz de la tierra. Durante milenios, la viruela fue la enfermedad que cobró más vidas en todo el globo terráqueo, y por tanto ese día de mayo fue uno de los más felices de la humanidad.

Una vez declarado el mundo libre de viruela, la OMS dispuso que el 31 de diciembre de 1993 se

destruyeran los reservorios del virus guardados en cualquier laboratorio. Aunque esa fecha se pospuso una y otra vez, por desacuerdo entre los mismos miembros de la OMS, en enero de 1999 ese organismo determinó unánimemente que los dos últimos reservorios de virus depositados en los dos

últimos laboratorios de alta seguridad, el del Centro de Control y Prevención de Enfermedades (CDC) en Atlanta, Estados Unidos, y el del Instituto de Preparaciones Virales, en Moscú, Rusia, fueran destruidos el 30 de junio de 1999. El 22 de abril de ese mismo año el presidente Clinton  retrasó, una vez más, la destrucción de los reservorios de la CDC, y la OMS autorizó que fueran retenidos hasta una fecha no posterior al 2002; no obstante, el presidente Bush, indudablemente

influenciado por los eventos terroristas del 11 de septiembre del 2001, decidió posponer en forma indefinida la destrucción de los reservorios estadounidenses del virus, poniendo nuestro destino

en el filo de la navaja. Así son los designios de Ometecuhtli.

1520

Recordamos a Cuauhtémoc porque fue el último emperador azteca y porque murió a manos de los conquistadores españoles; hasta hace algunos años, las monedas de 50 centavos lucían su efigie como símbolo de un mundo desvanecido. De Cuitláhuac sólo recordamos que fue el penúltimo emperador y

que duró unos cuantos días en el poder, tras la muerte de Moctezuma. Cuitláhuac fue quien,  defendiendo a Tenochtitlan, derrotó en batalla a Cortés. Los conquistadores recordaron esa derrota, que ocurrió el 30 de junio de 1520, como “La noche triste”. Es posible que la historia hubiese sido otra, pero una epidemia de viruela, enfermedad hasta entonces desconocida por los aztecas, mató a Cuitláhuac, a su hijo Axayacatzin y a varios miles de sus compatriotas en unas cuantas semanas, cambiando para siempre la suerte de su país. Por varias razones, es muy complicado cuantificar con precisión la magnitud de la catástrofe. Una de ellas es que no podemos evaluar cuánta población indígena existía antes de la llegada de los conquistadores, pero hay quienes se atreven a decir que pudo haber sido de alrededor de 25 millones. Las crónicas españolas e indígenas del siglo XVI no siempre coinciden en sus apreciaciones sobre la tragedia; incluso algunos de los textos de esa época, como la Historia de los indios de la Nueva España de Fray Toribio de Benavente, (conocido como Motolinía, el pobrecito), se maquillaron, cambiaron y reinterpretaron tanto a través de los años, que ahora nos resulta difícil discernir entre la realidad y la fantasía. Se dice que la viruela la trajo a México no Cortés, sino un esclavo negro, Francisco Eguía, quien vino con la expedición encabezada por Pánfilo Narváez, organizada con el fin de interceptar a Cortés. En la América continental, el primer asentamiento indígena que sufrió las consecuencias de la viruela fue Cempoala, en el actual estado de Veracruz, entre abril y mayo de 1520; la enfermedad se fue extendiendo, primero a Tepeaca, luego a Tlaxcala, hasta llegar a Tenochtitlan en los meses de septiembre y octubre de ese mismo año. En Tenochtitlan, una de las ciudades más densamente pobladas de su época, la viruela se propagó con tal fuerza y velocidad que en pocas semanas no había guerreros sanos para hacer frente a

los embates de los españoles. Quizá la verdadera fuerza de los conquistadores no radicó en la cruz, la espada, los caballos o las armas de fuego, sino en las enfermedades que vinieron con ellos: la viruela,

el sarampión y la poliomielitis. La mayor parte de la población indígena de México desapareció en el siglo XVI. Especialistas de hoy coinciden conservadoramente en que la mortalidad de las epidemias de viruela de 1520, 1545 y 1576 fue de un mínimo del 40%, pero fácilmente pudo llegar a ser del 80%. Para dar algunos números sobre la magnitud de la tragedia, McNeill, en su libro Plagues and People, calcula que en México, de los 25 millones de personas que pudieron haber existido poco antes de la llegada de los españoles, para el año 1620 sólo quedaban alrededor de 1.6 millones.

En ese mismo siglo y por la misma causa, la población nativa de las Antillas casi desapareció. Entonces los españoles trajeron a las islas esclavos negros, a fin de sustituir la mano de obra de la cada vez más escasa población indígena. Ésta es la razón de que ahora en esa región del mundo abunde la población negra. 

Los incas, en el siglo XVI, y las tribus norteamericanas, en los siglos XVII y XIX, tuvieron el mismo destino que los aztecas, tlaxcaltecas y la población original de las Antillas. La viruela llegó y se estableció, y México se convirtió en un reservorio natural de esa enfermedad, a la cual los aztecas,bautizaron como  tomonaliztli, cocoliztli, o huey zahuatl: esos nombres aún pueden leerse en los  libros parroquiales de defunción de los primeros años del siglo XX. Todavía en el año de 1947, un mexicano que viajó a Nueva York inició ahí un pequeño brote de viruela, sin muchas consecuencias.

Dioses, el color rojo y la variolización

Muchos de los pueblos afectados recurrentemente con epidemias de viruela tenían dioses que la personificaban y con los que se había que cumplir una serie de requisitos rituales para no sufrir las consecuencias de sus azotes. Shitala Mata (literalmente “la madre fría”) era la diosa de la viruela en el norte de la India y la diosa Mariamman en el sur. En el folklore chino el dios Ch’uan Sing Hua Chie cumplía ese papel, y para el pueblo africano Yoruba, el dios Sopona. En la antigüedad

también se desarrollaron una serie de tratamientos y pociones que tenían como propósito aminorar las secuelas de la viruela, pero la mayor parte de ellos eran inocuos e incluso contraproducentes.

Quizá lo que realmente tuvo un efecto positivo es que, en ocasiones, los ritos, los tratamientos y las pociones se acompañaban de cuidados hacia los enfermos que evitaban que éstos se deshidrataran

o se desnutrieran. Ahora sabemos que estos cuidados claramente mejoran la probabilidad de sobrevivir de los afectados. Ciertos tratamientos, a pesar de su ineficacia, se siguieron aplicando durante centurias; un ejemplo es el llamado “tratamiento rojo”. Por razones que no están claras, en algún lugar de oriente, posiblemente en Persia, se postuló que el color rojo promovía la curación de los enfermos de viruela. Hacia el año 980, en Japón se contaba con edificios especiales para aislar a los enfermos de viruela, y parte importante del tratamiento consistía en colgar cortinajes rojos alrededor de los enfermos. En el siglo XI, el famoso médico Abu Ali Al-Hussain Ibn Abadallah Ibn Sina, conocido como Avicena en el mundo occidental, recomendaba envolver a los viruelosos con ropajes rojos, con el fin de que el enfermo, al mirar ese color, moviera su sangre al exterior para retener el calor y mejorar.

Todavía en el siglo XIV, en Inglaterra, se usaban estas recomendaciones. En el año 1314 el hijo del rey Eduardo II enfermó de viruela y para su tratamiento se usaron, entre otras cosas, sábanas rojas y

gruesos cortinajes rojos puestos alrededor de su cama. El príncipe se recuperó, sin duda gracias a su constitución y fortaleza, no al “tratamiento rojo”. Evidentemente no todo los tratamientos médicos antiguos son obsoletos, de hecho, desde hace siglos, se sabía que sólo  era posible enfermarse de viruela una vez en la vida, ya sea porque el paciente terminaba en la tumba o, si sobrevivía, porque

su cuerpo desarrollaba las suficientes defensas para no enfermar otra vez. También se sabía que no todas las epidemias de viruela eran iguales, ya que había unas mucho más benignas que otras. Con esto en la mente, no pocas personas trataban de proteger a sus hijos exponiéndolos a enfermos afectados con casos leves de viruela, con la esperanza de que adquirieran una viruela igualmente leve y que de este modo fueran inmunes cuando se presentara una epidemia mortal. Aun cuando algunos de los niños morían durante este tratamiento, siempre era mejor exponerlos a una muerte poco probable que a una casi cierta.

Las vacas, la vacuna y Edward Jenner

La viruela de las vacas es una enfermedad usualmente leve y poco contagiosa, que tiene bajo impacto en la vida de estos animales y que, si no es por una ligera baja en la producción de leche, puede pasar

desapercibida. El virus que la produce se parece en muchos aspectos al de la viruela humana y de hecho se le clasifica dentro del mismo grupo.

Edward Jenner no fue quien descubrió que las lecheras que se contagiaban de la viruela de las vacas adquirían inmunidad contra esa enfermedad. Esta conseja popular se conocía bien en las áreas rurales

europeas y posiblemente también en México. La primera vez que Jenner oyó algo acerca de esto fue a la edad de 13 años, cuando trabajaba en el consultorio del doctor Daniel Ludlow, en un pueblo

cercano a la ciudad de Bristol. Jenner estudió medicina en Londres y posteriormente retornó a su hogar, donde estableció un consultorio. Su interés por la viruela de las vacas y su relación con la inmunidad contra la viruela nunca decayó. En 1796, Sarah Nelmes, una lechera de su condado, acudió a su consultorio porque en sus manos tenía las típicas lesiones de la viruela de las vacas y sufría de las fiebres ligeras y dolores de cabeza que se suelen asociar con esta enfermedad.

Jenner decidió usar las secreciones de las pústulas de Sarah para inocular a James Phipps, un niño de ocho años que no había sufrido ninguna forma de viruela, ni la de los humanos ni la de las vacas. James pronto desarrollo un ligerísimo malestar y una pequeña lesión en el lugar de la inmunización,

que en pocos días sanó. Semanas después, Jenner inoculó a James con secreciones de un enfermo de viruela, sin que presentara ninguna reacción: ¡había desarrollado inmunidad contra la viruela!

Los experimentos se pospusieron un tiempo, pues la viruela de las vacas había desaparecido de la comarca y no había material para inmunizar, pero un par de años después reapareció y Jenner pudo llevar a cabo sus experimentos con 23 individuos, con los mismos resultados. Por cuenta propia y pagándolo de su bolsillo, publicó un librito en el que explicaba sus procedimientos y resultados, que fue el primer recuento experimental serio y bien documentado de aquella anecdótica conseja

popular. El procedimiento de Jenner se conoce como vacunación, nombre que popularizó Pasteur, y que se deriva de la palabra vaca. El libro pronto se tradujo a varios idiomas y al poco tiempo la vacunación sustituyó a la variolización, que era un procedimiento riesgoso.

La OMS y la erradicación de la viruela

Pronto quedó claro, teóricamente, que la erradicación de la viruela era posible. El virus de la viruela

sólo podía sobrevivir en los humanos y no había ningún animal que pudiera ser portador del mismo. Además, la vacuna confería inmunidad de por vida. Si se vacunaba a todo el mundo, y si se evitaba que se propagara cualquier foco de infección, era posible desterrar el virus de la viruela para siempre. Lo que se requería era un esfuerzo mundial y concertado de vacunación. El primer país que propuso tal acción fue la Unión Soviética, en 1958. La OMS hizo suya la propuesta y empezó a fomentar programas de vacunación masiva a lo largo y ancho del planeta. Sin embargo, muchos países pobres no pudieron realizar su tarea, por falta de recursos económicos. Para resolver estas carencias y asegurarse de que la viruela se erradicara de la Tierra, en enero de 1967 la OMS emprendió un programa intensivo de vacunación que incluía asesoría y apoyo económico a 50 países faltos de recursos. 

En esos primeros años del programa se pusieron a punto las técnicas de producción masiva de la vacuna, así como las técnicas de aplicación. Los esfuerzos iniciales se enfocaron a apoyar programas de vacunación masiva en cuatro áreas donde la viruela era un problema endémico: Sudamérica,

Indonesia, África y el subcontinente indio. En las áreas problemáticas y más densamente pobladas, se decidió usar una estrategia de cerco, consistente en localizar y aislar a cualquier individuo enfermo de viruela y vacunar a todas aquellas personas que pudieran haber tenido contacto con él. En algunas regiones incluso se llegó a pagar recompensa a quienes descubrieran y reportaran casos de viruela. En pocos años los resultados fueron evidentes: los últimos casos de viruela ocurrieron en Brasil en 1971  y en Indonesia en 1972, y para 1973 sólo en Etiopía se observaban casos de la enfermedad. 

A pesar de la guerra, los malos caminos y las hambrunas, para 1977 también Etiopía estaba libre del azote. El último enfermo de viruela del mundo fue un cocinero somalí de 23 años, llamado Ali Maow Maalin, quien se repuso de su enfermedad sin problemas. Esto sucedió el 26 de octubre de 1977. Después de más de dos años de vigilancia, no se volvió a detectar ningún caso de viruela, y fue entonces cuando, en 1980, se declaró que el mundo estaba libre del temible mal. Con este ejemplo exitoso de cooperación, la OMS ha emprendido otros programas de erradicación, incluyendo el de

la poliomielitis, que próximamente va a concluir.

LECTURA 8 “POWERFUL RELICS AND SACRED TALISMANS”

“POWERFUL RELICS AND SACRED TALISMANS”

Kathleen McGowan
Extract from the book: "Ancient Aliens: The official companion book"

The power of bones

The idea of saint’s bodies and relics having power is one that goes back to the very early days of Christianity. In the book of Kings in the Old Testament, we have a story about the bones of the prophet Elijah, and the power of these bones. In this story, a group of Israelites are burying one of their brethren, and in the process of digging the grave for this man, a group of raiders comes by and the Israelites have to hide quickly. In order to hide, they have to throw the body into another grave. But they throw the body on top of the bones of Elijah. As soon as the body hits these bones, the body actually reanimates. The man comes to life and he jumps up. So it’s possible that this story from the book of Kings is where the idea of relics being powerful comer from.

By the medieval era, churches known for housing saints’ relics became centers of pilgrimage and attracted large donations. As a result, relics became a kind of marketing tool for medieval churches, which led to a lot of fake relics being out there. Because of this, relics are somewhat ridiculed by modern scholars. But when we look at European legends around saint’s bones, we find that among the nobility there was a strong belief that relics really did contain some kind of power.

The belief was that if you had in your possession a relic of one of the saints, you carried some of its magic with you. For example, parts of the body of Lazarus are scattered all over Europe because it was believed that if you had some relic from the body of Lazarus, you yourself would have the ability to overcome death, to overcome mortality. The same thing is true with the bones of Mary Magdalene. Wars were fought over the bones of Mary Magdalene because she is present in the most important resurrection stories. Mary Magdalene is there at the resurrection of her brother, Lazarus. Mary Magdalene is the first witness of Jesus’s resurrection, so it was believed that Mary Magdalene’s bones might possess the power of resurrection. As a result of an extraordinary devotion to Mary Magdalene, actual battles were fought for her bones. The dukes of Burgundy and Provence fought each other to possess the bones of Mary Magdalene.

The bones of the saints who were known to be prophets were the most coveted. Being in the presence of relics of a saint who was known to be a prophet, like John the Baptist, for example, could bring you powers of prophecy. John the Baptist was an itinerant preacher who became famous for baptizing people in the Jordan River. He is found in all of the canonical gospels. Legends of his ministry exist in the Koran and in the historical writings of Josephus. But in Christianity, John the Baptist is specifically important because he is known as “the forerunner” or “the precursor” -the person who is supposed to come before the Messiah. The Old Testament says that prior to the Messiah, a prophet will come and announce the arrival of the Messiah. Those are the shoes that John the Baptist fills.

It was believed that the bones of John the Baptist were brought to Europe during the Crusades. In 2010, a sarcophagus was discovered in the ruins of a church in Bulgaria, in a place known as the Island of John. This is a location that has held an annual celebration for John the Baptist for at least 1500 years. Within the ornate marble sarcophagus were 6 bones. An inscription on the sarcophagus refers to John the Baptist and his birthday of his feast day. Geneticists tested the bones and determined that they are indeed from the first century and come form a man of Middle Eastern origin. So it’s possible that these bones are those of John the Baptist.

THE PINEAL GLAND AND THE PINECONE 

The pineal gland, a tiny gland found in the center of our brain, resembles a pinecone. In fact, the word "pineal" actually comes from the word "pinecone" and as a result, the pinecone became a symbol of the pineal gland. The pineal gland secretes de hormone melatonin, but it has also been thought to be the phylogenic relic of a third eye. Based on this theory the pinecone became a symbol of enlightenment, of opening up to new understandings and perhaps even communicating with other realms or other dimensions.

What's interesting is that we see across many cultures and many traditions that the pinecone is a symbol used in art, in architecture, and in sacred texts. We see the pinecone sculpetd and drawn and painted on any number of pieces of art that are about spiritual enlightenment.

There are many depictions of gods holding pinecones. We see these depictions in Egypt, where the staff of Osiris has pinecones on top of it. We see them in the mayan culture, where we have statues of gods holding pinecones. But perhaps the most compelling and the most frequent of these depictions come from Assyrian artwork, where we see winged gods holding forth pinecones. In these Assyrian depictions, the gods appear to be shaking them. Now, this could be because the female pinecones generated seeds. And hundreds, even thousands, of seed could go forth from a pinecone. So thete could represent the Assyrian gods seeding our planet with wisdom or information. 

Certainly it's understandable how ancient astronaut theorists would come by this idea that these Assyrian gods were holding forth pinecones to remind us that we have a pineal gland, a gland that might help us contact other dimensions.

CYBELE 

The Romans spent 13 years building a temple to the goddess Cybele, the guardian of the gateways. The temple housed an ancient black stone, a meteorite, brought from Turkey to Rome, which was said to contain the actual essence of the goddess. When this meterorite was in the temple, Cybele was actually present. Cybele became incredibly important to the Romans. She is a mother goddess, but she's not simply an Earth goddess. She is the mother of the stars. Cybele is often shown standing in a gateway or with a gateway around her, and that is because she was known to be the guardian of time and space. In order to cross the veil and access other realms, you would have to petition Cybele. The fact that Cybele was known as the guardian of the gateway tells us that perhaps, the ancients were doing something really interesting and really important with time travel, portals, and stargates. And Cybele is essentially the great goddess of the stargate.

DROPA STONES

In 1938, a Chinese expedition in the region of Bayan-Kara-Ula discovered a very long cave that had murals painted on its walls. These cave paintings depicted the sun, moon, Earth, and stars, all connected by little dotted lines. As the archaeologists explored the cave further, they discovered tombs aligned in rows. These tombs were filled with very unusual skeletons. The skeletons were quite small and had strangely large and elongated skulls. But the most extraordinary discovery that the expedition made within the cave were 716 stone disks we now refer to as the Dropa stones.

The Dropa stones are about 15 inches in diameter, with a hole in the center, rather like an old long-playing record. They were elaborately carved with a type of hieroglyph that, when first discovered, no one was able to decipher. It was 24 years before a team of archaeologists was able to put together a translation of the Dropa stones. The information that was released from the translations was sensational. One of the stones said that a spacecraft had crashed 12000 years ago in that region, and another one of the stones referred to the Dropa people arriving in airplanes 12000 years earlier. Yet another stone explained that the Dropa people were peaceful and not warlike.

Two of the Dropa stones were sent to the Soviet Union for analysis, and the Soviet scientists discovered an entirely new aspect of these stones. The stones seemed to have been radiated in some way and charged with electrical energy. The scientists found that when they tried to play one as if it were a record, it emitted some kind of sound or vibration.

Although there have been efforts to discredit the Dropa stones and the entire story around the Dropa, there is certainly evidence indicating that there is truth to the stories, especially as relates to the Dropa people themselves. In 1933, there was a report of a culture of dwarflike beings coming into confrontation with the Chinese government, and there was a report of a little woman under 4 feet tall being escorted away by a Chinese soldier.

There were even reports that this dwarflike culture was being enslaved at the time. In 1995, the Associated Press reported on something that they called a village of dwarfs within a few hundred miles of the original Dropa site. What we know is that cultures of dwarflike beings have been accounted for in China for at least as early as 1933, and this culture seems to come from nowhere. These dwarflike beings aren’t related to any other culture in the region, but they must be descended from something, and it is entirely possible that these beings are the modern descendants of the Dropa. This region where the potential descendants of the Dropa exist is entirely off-limits to visitors. It is a forbidden zone.

LECTURA 7 "EL LADO OSCURO DE LOS SIMIOS"

"EL LADO OSCURO DE LOS SIMIOS"

Laura V. Cuaya

Revista ¿Cómo ves? UNAM 

A los chimpancés se les consideraba animales muy pacíficos hasta que Jane Goodall publicó un detallado registro de lo que llamó la guerra de Gombe.

En la década de 1970 la primatóloga inglesa Jane Goodall llegó al Parque Nacional de Gombe en Tanzania para estudiar la conducta de los chimpancés en su ambiente natural. Al igual que muchas personas, Goodall los consideraba seres gentiles. Sin embargo el 7 de enero de 1974 presenció un acontecimiento que transformó esa opinión. Todo comenzó cuando seis chimpancés machos y una hembra de la comunidad Kasakela patrullaban su territorio y se encontraron al chimpancé Godi, de la comunidad Kahama, comiendo fruta plácidamente (Goodall les ponía nombre a los chimpancés y a las comunidades para identificarlos más fácilmente). Al ver que el intruso estaba solo y distraído, los patrulleros de Kasakela se acercaron sigilosamente para atacarlo. Cuando Godi se dio cuenta ya era demasiado tarde y no pudo escapar. Vociferando frenéticamente, el grupo de Kasakela inmovilizó a Godi. Luego lo molieron a golpes y mordidas durante 10 minutos. Con graves heridas en la cara, una pata y el pecho, Godi se levantó con dificultad. Goodall no lo volvió a ver.

Lo más sorprendente de este suceso no fue lo alevoso del ataque, sino que Kasakela y Kahama eran ramas distintas de un grupo original: a Godi lo atacaron sus antiguos compañeros. Desde 1974 Goodall pudo identificar que Kasakela era la comunidad original y que Kahama la creó un grupo de “separatistas” que se estableció en el sur. Este grupo estaba formado por tres hembras con sus crías y seis machos: los hermanos Hugh y Charlie, Goliath, Dé, Willy Wally y el adolescente Sniff. El grupo original permaneció en el norte y siguió siendo más numeroso: 12 hembras con sus crías y ocho machos adultos. Lo que Goodall no pudo averiguar en ese entonces fue por qué se separó el grupo que se fue al sur.

Redes sociales

Cuatro décadas después, Joseph Feldblum, de la Universidad Duke en Carolina del Norte, y sus colaboradores volvieron a analizar las notas de campo de Goodall para estudiar la organización social de Kasakela entre 1968 y 1972 con miras a esclarecer el asunto. En la reunión anual de la Sociedad Estadounidense de Antropólogos Físicos de 2014 dieron a conocer que la separación de la comunidad no fue abrupta, sino que resultó de alianzas que los chimpancés tejieron durante años.

En investigaciones anteriores a las de Feldblum (entre ellas la de Goodall) se intentó establecer los lazos sociales entre chimpancés sólo en función del tiempo que pasaban juntos. Aunque el tiempo, en efecto, es una variable importante, Feldblum supuso que, como pasa con los humanos, los mejores amigos no siempre son los que conviven más. Además del tiempo de convivencia, Feldblum y sus colaboradores se fijaron en otras variables: ¿los individuos iban en la misma dirección?, ¿llegaban al mismo tiempo a un lugar? A través de esta nueva lente Feldblum y sus colegas detectaron tendencias de separación desde 1968, especialmente en los hermanos Hugh y Charlie, que pasaban cada vez más tiempo alejados del grupo.

En los siguientes dos años ocurrieron dos sucesos decisivos para el futuro de Kasakela: la llegada del nuevo macho alfa Humphrey en 1969 y la muerte del macho Leakey en diciembre de 1970. La dinámica social de la comunidad cambió y el proceso de separación se completó por la ausencia de Leakey, que hacía las veces de puente entre los dos grupos, y porque Humphrey no fue el líder fuerte que la comunidad necesitaba. Para 1971 las redes sociales estaban divididas y en 1972 ya podían distinguirse claramente los dos grupos.

Exterminio

Luego la tensa calma se rompió y la rivalidad entre estos dos grupos se convirtió en una verdadera guerra. Quizá por su juventud o por su recién ganado poder, los chimpancés de Kahama adoptaron la bravuconería como estrategia. Se paseaban por el territorio de Kasakela descaradamente, cosa que en el mundo de los chimpancés es una ofensa grave.

Tal vez por su experiencia o por ser más numerosos, los chimpancés de Kasakela optaron por el patrullaje. Patrullar es muy importante en las comunidades de chimpancés. Una vez cada siete días al menos tres individuos, casi siempre machos, exploran con gran sigilo su territorio en busca de pistas de posibles intrusos, por ejemplo herramientas abandonadas. Si se encuentran con individuos de otro grupo, comienza un “debate diplomático”. Aunque éste ocurre a gritos y con actitudes violentas, la realidad es que muchas veces sólo es fanfarronería. La diplomacia casi siempre gana y por eso el patrullaje mantiene estables los territorios de cada comunidad. Los chimpancés de Kasakela patrullaban su territorio para defenderlo, pero también para emboscar y aniquilar a los de Kahama.

La siguiente víctima fue Dé, quien desapareció un mes después de ser atacado. Luego fue el turno de uno de los individuos preferidos de Goodall: Goliath. A pesar de ser el macho más viejo del grupo, lo atacaron con la misma brutalidad que a los anteriores. Goliath también desapareció para siempre tras el ataque. Los siguientes en desaparecer fueron Hugh y Charlie, los rebeldes iniciales. Willy Wally y Sniff corrieron la misma suerte. Para 1978 toda la comunidad de Kahama había desaparecido. Espantada de la violencia del conflicto, Goodall lo llamó la guerra de Gombe.

LA GUERRA DE GOMBE

Hechos

El 7 de enero de 1974, seis chimpancés machos y una hembra de Kasakela atacan al joven macho Godi de Kahama, mientras comía fruta. A lo largo de los siguientes cuatro años los machos de Kasakela mataron a los seis chimpancés machos de Kahama; de las hembras, mataron a una, dos desaparecieron y tres, fueron golpeadas y secuestradas. Para 1978, toda la comunidad de Kahama había sido aniquilada.

Naturaleza bélica

Cuando Goodall comunicó sus hallazgos una parte de la comunidad científica se mostró escéptica. Se le criticó por antropomorfizar a los chimpancés (prestarles características humanas): ponerles nombre y luego llamar “guerra” al conflicto le daba a éste una carga emocional que estaba fuera de lugar en la ciencia. Habría sido preferible decir “conflicto intergrupal” o “violencia letal”, términos más neutrales. El problema del antropomorfismo es que puede sesgar a quien investiga la conducta animal. Sin embargo el primatólogo holandés Frans de Waal advierte que por tratar de evitar el antropoformismo se puede caer en el sesgo contrario: la “antroponegación”, que es el rechazo a que existan características comunes entre los humanos y el resto de los animales.

Otra gran controversia giró en torno a saber si la guerra de Gombe fue un acontecimiento natural o si lo propició en alguna medida la estación de distribución de plátanos que Goodall había instalado para ganarse la confianza de los chimpancés y poder observar mejor su conducta. El asunto se zanjó en 2004, cuando se reportaron cuatro nuevos ataques en la comunidad Kasakela que ocurrieron entre 1993 y 2002.

Además, en 2014 la revista Nature publicó una investigación realizada por 30 científicos de 25 instituciones de varios países en la que se analizó si los ataques letales entre chimpancés resultaban de la interferencia humana (por ejemplo darles alimento) o eran parte de la naturaleza de estos animales, una estrategia adaptativa. Los investigadores analizaron 18 comunidades y encontraron 152 muertes, dos tercios de las cuales las perpetraron machos de un grupo rival. Los investigadores no hallaron relación entre la violencia en las comunidades y la actividad humana, lo que parece indicar que los ataques letales entre chimpancés son un comportamiento natural que reduce la competencia por recursos y expande el territorio del grupo.

El amor y la guerra, oxitocina 

La hormona oxitocina tradicionalmente se ha asociado con el amor y también se sabe que una de sus funciones es fortalecer los lazos sociales entre individuos no relacionados genéticamente (véase ¿Cómo ves?, No. 133). Esta hormona se produce en abundancia cuando una madre amamanta a su bebé y cuando dos personas están perdidamente enamoradas. En la vida de los chimpancés la oxitocina se produce durante el ritual del acicalamiento y contribuye a estrechar relaciones sociales y a reforzar alianzas políticas. Es una ironía que la guerra sólo sea posible si hay lazos sociales fuertes, consolidados por la hormona del amor, para que sus integrantes cooperen en la agresión contra otro grupo.

Con el objetivo de entender mejor la relación entre la oxitocina y la agresión en chimpancés, Liran Samunia reunió a un grupo de científicos del Instituto Max Planck de Antropología Evolutiva y del Centro Suizo de Investigación Científica. Entre octubre de 2013 y mayo de 2015 los investigadores siguieron a dos grupos de chimpancés en el Parque Nacional Taï, en Costa de Marfil, y recolectaron la orina de cada individuo en diferentes actividades. Después de analizarla, encontraron que el nivel de oxitocina era casi del doble antes de salir a patrullar y durante conflictos con otro grupo en comparación con cuando estaban solos, durante el acicalamiento, la cacería en grupo y al compartir comida. Lo que los investigadores sugirieron cuando publicaron los resultados en 2016 es que antes del patrullaje la oxitocina refuerza los lazos sociales y durante un conflicto reduce la ansiedad y facilita la coordinación del grupo.

Diplomacia

Aun así, las guerras entre comunidades de chimpancés no son comunes. Frans de Waal ha observado que después de un conflicto los chimpancés se reconcilian con un beso y otros tipos de contacto corporal, y que la probabilidad de reconciliación aumenta cuando los monos tienen una relación social. La diplomacia es muy importante para los primates porque vivir en sociedad tiene grandes beneficios mientras que los conflictos dañan las relaciones sociales y al grupo entero.

En el caso de la guerra de Gombe la diplomacia fracasó. La muerte de Leakey fue el detonante y la debilidad de Humphrey empeoró la situación. Un líder con más experiencia quizá podría haber evitado que los hermanos Hugh y Charlie se apartaran cada vez más de la comunidad. Las alianzas entre los chimpancés se fueron desgastando poco a poco. Por ejemplo, aun cuando ya había una clara división de las comunidades, a veces Mike y Rodolf, de Kasakela, se paseaban con Goliath, de Kahama. En ese momento eran los tres chimpancés más viejos de ambas comunidades y su amistad posiblemente mantuvo las hostilidades a raya al menos por un tiempo. Una vez iniciada la guerra cesaron esos paseos.

No hay registros históricos de las comunidades de chimpancés para averiguar si las guerras son comunes, pero podemos recurrir a registros genéticos. Si las guerras fueran frecuentes sería poco probable que las familias vivieran por generaciones en la misma comunidad. Con el objetivo de calcular la antigüedad de ocho comunidades de chimpancés en África Oriental, Kevin Langergraber y un grupo internacional de colaboradores analizaron variaciones genéticas heredadas en 273 chimpancés. Los investigadores estudiaron sólo chimpancés machos porque los machos tienden a permanecer toda su vida en el grupo en el que nacieron, mientras que las hembras emigran a otras comunidades cuando alcanzan la madurez sexual. Los resultados, publicados en 2014 en la revista Journal of Human Evolution, mostraron que las comunidades surgieron en promedio hace 553 años. O sea que las familias han sido parte del mismo grupo por más de 10 generaciones. Este estudio muestra que las comunidades de chimpancés tienden a ser estables por largos periodos. Los autores creen que la separación de un grupo ocurre cuando los costos de vivir en comunidad superan los beneficios. La diplomacia entre los chimpancés actúa principalmente a través de alianzas a largo plazo y reconciliaciones inmediatas.

Posguerra

Con la aniquilación de la tribu Kahama, los chimpancés añadieron 15 kilómetros cuadrados a su territorio... por un tiempo. Tras cuatro años de guerra, la comunidad de Kasakela terminó debilitada, lo que no pasó inadvertido para sus vecinos. La comunidad de Kalanda inició un conflicto contra los de Kasakela por el nuevo territorio. Desaparecieron los chimpancés Sherry y Humphrey. La debilitada Kasakela se retiró del conflicto cediendo casi todo el territorio ganado. La comunidad de Mitumba también aprovechó para expandir sus territorios. Como la comunidad de Kasakela no podía enfrentar este conflicto, de nuevo cedió parte de su territorio. Para no perderlo totalmente los chimpancés de Kasakela tuvieron que hacer gala de ingenio. “Cuando estés debilitado, aparenta fuerza”, aconsejaba el estratega militar chino Sun Tzu en El arte de la guerra. Como si lo hubieran leído, los chimpancés de Kasakela integraron a sus patrullas a machos demasiado jóvenes para defender el territorio, pero listos para fingir fuerza. Así lograron engañar a sus vecinos, que creyeron que esas patrullas eran de una comunidad fuerte y desistieron de nuevos ataques. Tras la guerra de Gombe los chimpancés de Kasakela apenas tenían territorio suficiente para vivir, pero al menos habían sobrevivido. Lado oscuro Las investigaciones continúan décadas después de la guerra de Gombe. Éste es un excelente ejemplo de cómo se construye el conocimiento científico: una observación única se toma con cautela. Se plantean hipótesis y distintos equipos de investigación realizan nuevas observaciones. Finalmente se integran los resultados y se generan nuevas preguntas.

La guerra de Gombe, como quizá todas las guerras, es una acumulación de contradicciones. Los conflictos entre grupos de chimpancés son posibles gracias a la capacidad de cooperación. Si los individuos no tuvieran la capacidad de coordinarse y formar alianzas con otros individuos, no habría guerra. Los chimpancés pueden aniquilar a otro grupo al tiempo que protegen al propio. Una comunidad que es fuerte antes de hacer la guerra termina vulnerable en la posguerra.

La guerra de Gombe le mostró a Jane Goodall el lado oscuro de los chimpancés. Antes de la guerra la investigadora creía que los chimpancés eran pacíficos pese a parecerse a los humanos. Presenciar semejante violencia transformó su visión inicial. Durante años Goodall tuvo pesadillas en las que veía escenas de los ataques. Finalmente aceptó que los conflictos forman parte de las comunidades de chimpancés. Como ella misma dijo, no tenía caso negar los hechos. Lo que hoy sabemos de los chimpancés nos muestra que nuestras capacidades cognitivas tienen una historia evolutiva y nos recuerda la unión que hay entre diferentes especies.

Puedes leer el artículo original aquí:

http://www.comoves.unam.mx/numeros/articulo/234/el-lado-oscuro-de-los-simios