Barbasco and the Mexican Peasantry

In Jungle Laboratories, Gabriela Soto Laveaga attempts to convince her readers that barbasco, a Mexican yam used to produce synthetic hormones necessary for a wide variety of medications (most notably, oral contraceptives and oral steroids) and the indigenous Mexican peasantry who gathered it, have not been given proper credit in the historical record. Soto Laveaga seeks to place the rural Mexican peasantry in their proper roles, as important contributors of scientific knowledge and discovery, instead of as sole consumers of foreign science. She argues against world systems theory and seeks to remove Mexico from its essential designation as a peripheral state. She does this by tracing barbasco’s rise using a commodity chain approach. In Soto Laveaga’s narrative, all actors have agency – from transnational pharmaceutical corporations and the Mexican government to middlemen and rural yam pickers in Southern Mexico.

            One particular point the author makes is the role of the campesinos/barbasqueros in contributing specialized knowledge to scientific research of barbasco. Barbasco was very abundant in the Papaloapan Basin and the surrounding region (which included the states of Veracruz, Oaxaca, Tabasco, and Chiapas), yet it took a certain body of knowledge to pick the tubers. One needed to possess knowledge of rain patterns, the ability to identify the leaves and color variations of the root, (which closely resembled other plants and could confuse the novice root picker), experience and knowledge to determine the root size and age based on vine girth, the tools and knowledge of how to dig the root up, and an understanding of how and where to transport it. In many ways, indigenous knowledge outstripped that of the scientific community. Scientists from home and abroad would seek out this indigenous knowledge in order to further their own research. In addition, evidence suggests that rural Mexicans knew of some of the properties of barbasco, based on their own empirical observations (such as pregnant cows miscarrying if they drank water in which barbasco had been dumped). This knowledge, combined with a willingness to gather barbasco, empowered the campesinos. I was reminded a bit of Black Rice and how West Africans were keepers of knowledge necessary for successful rice cultivation. Like the West Africans in Carney’s narrative, the Mexican campesinos in Laveaga’s account used their knowledge to negotiate better conditions for themselves. In class, we have mentioned the idea of knowledge as a commodity, this book, along with Black Rice, is making me reconsider that aspect. I am not sure if I am ready to state knowledge has potential to be a commodity, but it is an interesting point of consideration.

            One thing that struck me as unique compared to the other commodities we have studied is the fact that barbasco collection was inherently egalitarian. There was no formal process for barbasco cultivation, or plantation systems. Anyone, from experienced foragers to women and children, could pick barbasco as long as they knew how to find it. Soto Laveaga claims that peasants who grew another crop, such as corn, would stop on their way to the market to pick some barbasco just to supplement their income. Others made their fortunes in the barbasco trade. I just found this to be interesting compared to some of the other commodities we have studied.

            Barbasco, like coca and cocaine, became a symbol for Mexican nationalism and a potential source for domestic scientific and medical advancement. Barbasco also underwent politicization under the Echeverría presidency. The Mexican countryside became a rally point for Echeverría’s populist reforms when a student led movement brought the supposed plight of rural peasants onto the national stage. Echeverría’s promises to “protect” the peasantry from exploitation by transnational corporations led to attempts to restructure the countryside. Efforts to protect the campesinos resulted in upending decades old social relations between middlemen and barbasco pickers.

            I believe that Soto Laveaga has succeeded in undoing the false perceptions and assumptions that Mexico was somehow too “backward” for any real scientific contributions to occur. I also believe she does an excellent job demonstrating that the campesinos were not just passive players in the barbasco trade. Her work fits well into what I have come to expect from my commodity histories – a narrative that describes the nature and qualities of the product under analysis, while placing it within its relevant social, political, and economic contexts. If I were to teach this course, it would remain on my syllabus.