Zapata’s Children

For some Mexicans the Revolutions still isn’t over.

The hats were peasant hats, huge round monstrosities shading the laborer from the sun; the mustaches—full and black—drooped past the lower lip; the pants were baggy, often with leather leggings; the clothes always dusty. And then there were the weapons: the crossed bandoliers, the rifles, the revolvers slung low. So they, appeared, so they abide: the classic images of the first great revo­lution of the twentieth century—Villa and Zapata. Villa and Zapata at the San Angel Inn, Villa and Zapata lounging in the chair of Maximilian, Villa riding at the head of a column snaking down from the mountains. Villa in the north, Zapata in the south—together they gave the Revolution its energy and muscle, and a good deal of its vision.

In Mexican history they are honored as revolutionaries. The problem, of course, is

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