Surviving within an Indigenous Community's Barricade: Exploring Life in the 4F Huo̧ttö̧ja̧ Collective (Part III)

A Tale from the Amazonas: The Resilient February 4 Huo̧ttö̧ja̧ Commune

The autonomous Huo̧ttö̧ja people, nestled deep within Venezuela's Amazonas state, have long defied colonial rule and fiercely conserved their unique language and heritage. Today, they're constructing bubbling melting pots of Hugo Chávez's socialist ethos and ancient collective organizational structures.

The February 4 Huo̧ttö̧ja Commune, perched on the Parhueña River's edge, is a vivid blend of Huo̧ttö̧ja, Kurripakos, Jivis, Banivas, and a smattering of non-Native residents. The commune's heart consists of 12 communal councils and approximately 2500 souls, the largest being Limón de Parhueña (around 750 dwellers). Tucked deep within the rainforest, some settlements keep their ancestral traditions alive, from churuatas thatch-roof homes to hours-long journeys on foot or motorbike.

This three-part saga follows the path of those who have forged the February 4 Huo̧ttö̧ja Commune—a journey that began by delving into the community's history, scrutinized their production methods, and concludes by exploring the US blockade's hallmarks and the significance of Chávez's legacy to Indigenous peoples.

Struggling Under the US Blockade

The American blockade's reach extends throughout Venezuela, but its grip on Indigenous communities in rural zones is less harmful as they employ tough farming techniques.

Sirelyis Rivas: Imperialism, fueled by the USA, worries about the Bolivarian Movement because it symbolizes a sovereign project that falls outside its control. That's the real issue!

While merciless and devastating, the blockade posed more logistical challenges than direct starvation for rural communities. Local agriculture—mañoco yuca flour and casabe yuca flatbread—and wild manaca fruit became survival staples when basic goods were scarce.

Severe transportation issues alike, with scarcities in fuel, transport for selling casabe to cities was limited.

Nereo López Pérez: Our production never faltered under the blockade, and I firmly believe this is true for all Amazonas State's 21 Indigenous tribes.

Our primary concerns are our children and families’ sustenance, so we don't depend on imported agricultural inputs: instead, we cultivate crops symbiotically with the land for future seeds. Upon occasion, our tools wore out or boots frayed, but we've never ceased producing.

Fuel scarcities hindered us, however, since our casabe needed to be transported to cities on weekends. Still, our grit propelled us to tread the long distance when resources were limited, reaching cities like Puerto Ayacucho to buy essential items.

Adapting to the New Norm

Simón Pérez: Self-sustaining, as our community is, we can easily exchange goods in town. No fuel shortages are sufficient to impede us from fetching needed products.

Ebi Miraval: Regardless of the blockade, our daily routine remains consistent: nurturing our conucos subsistence plots, grinding yuca, cooking it on a budare griddle, and obeying ancestral customs passed down—traditions unbroken from our grandparents’ era.

Should we require basic goods like coffee or sugar, we may visit towns on Saturdays, sell tapara sauce, and restock accordingly.

Nereo López Pérez: Manaca is bountiful in the wild year-round, our conucos are teeming with yuca, and we can hunt and fish. This lifestyle leaves us less vulnerable to the blockade and more insulated from its impacts compared to urban residents.

Though transport bottlenecks prevailed, now refined fuel availability enables us to easily reach towns via bus or truck.

THE BLOCKADE AND TRADITIONAL MEDICINE

Nereo López Pérez: In urban zones, desperate malnourishment susceptibility worsened during the peak of the sanctions, with disastrous consequences. However, rural communities like ours relied on organic remedies passed down through generations to combat illnesses.

Sirelyis Rivas: As Huo̧ttö̧ja people, we've always leaned on herbal treatments, supplementing with modern medicines when necessary. During trying times, our dependence on traditional remedies intensified. In doing so, we rediscovered forgotten medicinal plants that might have vanished had we not sought these remedies.

OTHER PROBLEMS & SOLUTIONS

Estela Pesquera: In 2016, some young men in our community sought work in gold mines as a temporary respite from our community's customs. With the crisis crippling job opportunities, these youths had little choice.

Life in the mines is harsh though. Some returned with earnings but many others returned only in grave condition.

During such trying times, I ventured to the mines myself temporarily to sell Betel nut-in short, catara, but I quickly returned.

María Solórzano: These have been difficult years, with organizing Indigenous communities proving challenging. Yet, in my area, we've witnessed the revival of dormant communes and initiatives like the communal consultations promoted by President Maduro.

What uplifts me the most is the Indigenous dol plainly imbued with our customary gathering practices and collective decision-making. As for the blockade, I sense its end is approaching.

Simón Pérez: Our remote community dreamed of electricity for eons. We made steady progress toward attaining this goal but were set back by the blockade.

Yet, in August [2024], we finally received a suite of ten solar panels for each household. Obtaining these panels—organizing as a community, making countless trips to town—proved challenging but was eventually successful. The Atures Municipality, Puerto Ayacucho government, provided the panels and masterminded installation.

The Legacy of Chávez and the Revolution

Hugo Chávez's Bolivarian Movement ushered in a turning point for Venezuela's Indigenous peoples, bringing recognition and codifying rights that had long been disregarded.

Nereo López Pérez: In 1998, when Chávez seized the reins of power, we the Huo̧ttö̧ja recognized the start of a new era for Indigenous peoples in Venezuela. Yet, actions prove more meaningful than words, which is why the Constitution, approved in December 1999 with a preamble proclaiming Venezuela as a "participatory and protagonistic democracy," and recognizing our country as "multiethnic and pluricultural," piqued our interest.

Furthermore, Article 9 of the Constitution claims recognition of our languages as "official" and as "cultural heritage." Meanwhile, Article 119 not only guarantees the government must respect our customs and traditions but also paved the way for a groundbreaking method of Indigenous land delimitation—one that prioritizes community participation.

Naturally, the Constitution isn't flawless, and we have suggestions for reforming certain articles. Yet, it remains an indispensable resource for us.

In addition to the Constitution, numerous legal instruments benefiting Indigenous peoples in Amazonas and across the country were established: the "Indigenous Peoples Law" (2005) and the "Indigenous Languages Law" (2007).

Plenty remains to be done: defending our culture, preserving our traditions, and promoting our languages. The government must also make greater efforts. However, prior to the Bolivarian Revolution, we lived as a voiceless people with no country. The UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples had no bearing on us since our existence was denied.

Sirelyis Rivas: I want to thank Chávez for the commune, which acknowledges each community's individuality while promoting self-governance. I'm also grateful for his affirmation of our Indigenous languages.

Some might question the significance of these gestures. However, before him, we had no acknowledgment in Venezuela's eyes; neither were our languages shielded. Our mother tongue is the lifeline that binds us, the reason I harbor personal gratitude for Chávez.

Nereo López Pérez: To conclude, I'd like to share a thought: to be revolutionary isn't always about wearing red caps or red shirts. It's rooted in having a clear vision and working relentlessly towards it. We must abide by Che Guevara's sentiment: "The revolution is not made with words but with actions."

Our ancestors were revolutionaries: they battled the colonizers. Despite the passage of over 500 years, they fought hard to preserve our culture, traditions, organizational structures, and language. They deserve our gratitude for their determination to endure, keeping their revolution alive as we strive to improve upon it.

The February 4 Huo̧ttö̧ja Commune, in the face of the US blockade's influence, has managed to remain self-sufficient by relying on local organic remedies for illnesses, such as herbal treatments that have been passed down through generations.
Amidst the difficulties posed by the US blockade, the people of the February 4 Huo̧ttö̧ja Commune continue to thrive, adapting their daily lives to prioritize conucos subsistence plots, traditional cooking methods, and ancestral customs.
The Bolivarian Movement, led by Hugo Chávez, has been instrumental in providing recognition and codifying rights for Venezuela's Indigenous peoples, especially through the Constitution, which recognizes Indigenous languages as official and encourages community participation in decision-making processes.