Damiano Damiani’s star-studded Spaghetti Western A Bullet for the General (1966) pairs the unconventional duo of Niño, an American mercenary, and Chuncho, a Mexican bandit, amidst the corrosive terrain of the Mexican Revolution (1910-1917). Despite their vastly different backgrounds, their maverick spirits bond over the prospect of gold even if Niño’s insidious quest threatens to unravel their partnership. When they do come face-to-face, a bloody end ensues but not before birthing a conundrum around the motivations of Chuncho. The resolution to this query, unanswered for decades, lies in the works of Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci.  

Niño’s (Lou Castel) vexed reaction to Chuncho’s (Gian Maria Volontè) homicidal pronouncement of "Quién sabe?" at the end of A Bullet for the General (Damiano Damiani, 1966) seems logical when viewed in isolation. Throughout the film, the Mexican bandit Chuncho (Gian Maria Volontè) had wavered between his love for the American mercenary Niño (Lou Castel), an admiration informed by their mutual lust for money and anarchic adventure, and his identity as a revolutionary, that had been dealt a severe blow following the assassination of his beloved General Elias by Niño.

Only moments back, Chuncho had cast away the mission to avenge Elias after becoming aware of Niño’s loyalty. The American had not only saved Chuncho’s life and kept his monetary reward safe, but also assured him a glorious life in the promised land of the United States of America. The two men, with wealth in their hands and an ever-growing comradeship had the world at their feet.

But right at the cusp of this glory, Chuncho’s unsteadiness returns. Well aware of Chuncho’s dithering tendencies, shown particularly well in the San Miguel episode, Niño implores for at least a reason. But the incensed bandit is seemingly under a spell, repeatedly uttering “Quién Sabe?” to all of Niño’s queries, and shoots his friend to death in the carriage of the moving train meant to take them to USA. Translatable to “Who knows?” Chuncho’s final declaration to Niño leaves the viewer perplexed. What forced him to kill someone for whom he held a high regard and a romantic fascination with strong sexual undertones?

Was this a product of Chuncho’s realization that Niño was a “bad” individual, working on the payroll of the imperialist Mexican army? Or one could assume, based on his mad ramblings in the end, that his indecisiveness amidst the surrounding tragedies had driven him towards insanity? Perhaps, guilt had creeped in after witnessing Niño’s treatment of the poor Mexicans, and disgust at his own base desires and weaknesses led Chuncho to take this extreme step? But then at no stage does the movie build towards a fight between good versus evil. And despite his ‘madness’, there seems to be a method to Chuncho’s ways. Then how do we explain his actions? The answer lies in the concrete historical processes within which Chuncho operates. Antonio Gramsci’s formulations on the intellectuals, along with related writings on education help us understand the realities of A Bullet for the General

The scheme of these works primarily concerns with the arrival of an Organic Intellectual within the working classes. In the underlying piece, we’ll discuss how the events of the film help Chuncho, an uneducated Mexican bandit/revolutionary, to become an Organic Intellectual in the Gramscian frame by the movie’s end.

Phraseology and caveats

Before we initiate our discussion, a broad framework of important Gramscian concepts applicable to the essay will be explained.

Gramsci attacks the notion that intellectuals –­ understood in popular imagination as comprising elite professions with a focus on elaboration of mental faculties such as doctors, scientists, academics, lawyers etc.–­ form a separate special grouping but in fact sees them as representatives of their respective economic classes. Dooming the special aura around intellectuals with “All men are intellectuals, but not all men have in society the function of intellectuals, 1 Gramsci goes on to expound the functional intellectuals.

One such grouping is the Traditional Intellectuals, belonging to the literary, scientific community with a supposed inter-class aura to them, but who in fact conceal an attachment to various historical class formations. The other is Organic Intellectuals , i.e. the thinking and organizing element of a particular class. Irrespective of their profession, their role is to direct the ideas and aspirations of the class to which they organically belong. Thus, a member of the bourgeoisie will direct the aspirations of their class and so on. For Gramsci, every class creates its intellectuals, who give it awareness of not only its economic but also political and social functions.

Not precluding the above, Gramsci also introduces class-oriented intellectuals based on the political topography of urban and rural. The Italian theorist discusses the peculiar relationships that the Urban and Rural intellectuals share with the masses, and how the respect accorded to them varies based on modern capitalist growth in a specific region. For instance, in the absence of capitalist growth in a village, the Rural Intellectuals would assume the important function of linkages between state administration and the local masses, thus adding to their prestige.  

According to Gramsci, for a class to become dominant, it needs to assimilate and conquer “ideologically” the traditional intellectuals. This task becomes easier when they are able to elaborate their own organic intellectuals. Gramsci further adds that the intellectuals are the deputies of the dominant classes. To ensure ‘hegemony’ over the entire society, the dominant class uses its historical prestige to impose spontaneous consent and applies legal apparatus as a coercive measure on groups who don’t consent actively or passively. The education setup plays an important role in the elaboration of an intellectual.

The Gramscian framework finds completion in a revolutionary political party, wherein following a Leninist schema (The revolutionary party as a whole, and not just its intellectuals, would help bring forth the revolutionary consciousness among the working classes) he discusses the assimilation of Traditional Intellectuals with Organic Intellectuals to advance the working classes towards hegemony.

In the world of A Bullet for the General, we don’t find the presence of a revolutionary party, within which the Organic Intellectual of the working classes can operate. Neither do we find a school within which Chuncho can learn to become an Organic Intellectual. Nevertheless, as will be argued below, Chuncho manages to become an Organic Intellectual of his class, and this transformation is the key to answer “Quién sabe?”

Questions can be raised around the relative fluidity of Chuncho’s identity and class. While he has a peasant upbringing and affiliates quickly with the people of San Miguel, it can be argued that being a gun-runner and dealing in the urban environs of the movie, understood as per the Gramscian understanding on intellectuals (of the peasants and other classes), means that he’s very closely attached to the working classes of towns and cities. Thus, he has a good understanding of peasants, but it is in the urban setup that this Organic Intellectual is finally elaborated.

The ambush and Don Felipe episodes

Chuncho and his gun-runners are introduced to us during their ambush of the train destined for Durango. The arms and ammunition on the heavily guarded train make it a gold mine for the outlaws, while the incidental presence of Bill Tate (Castel) and his subsequent encounter with Chuncho help kick off the plot. This scene also sets the base for important Gramscian conceptualizations present in the movie.

The train comes to an emergency halt in a deserted locale when it encounters a man tied to a cross on the tracks. Revealed to be an army captain, his presence is intimated by the soldiers to their in-charge, Lieutenant Alvaro Ferreira. Almost immediately, a shootout commences, and it becomes clear that this is an ambush, with Chuncho appearing and openly stating his intentions of getting the arms on the train. Any further attempts to liberate the captain prove futile, leading to more deaths, and it is clear that the advantage lies with the assailants firing from the open ground unless the train moves ahead immediately.

Despite the pleadings from his soldiers and train’s other occupants the lieutenant remains indecisive, instead imploring his rank senior - the near dead captain on the tracks- for orders. This leads to further losses and attempts at desertion, but the lieutenant remains embroiled in the army’s chain of command.

This imbroglio exposes the army’s faux esprit de corps, while also mirroring the Gramscian perspective on the Urban Intellectual. Incidentally, Gramsci 2 compares such intellectuals to subaltern officers in the army (akin to the lieutenant here). Contrasting them with the Rural Intellectuals, he links their fortunes to the industry and attributes a lack of autonomous initiative to them. He further adds, “Their job is to articulate relationship between entrepreneur and the instrumental mass and to carry out the immediate execution of the production plan decided by the industrial general staff…” As opposed to the influence exercised by the Rural Intellectuals (to be dealt with shortly), Urban Intellectuals are mere functionaries of the industry, who barely exercise any political influence on the instrumental masses.

In this scenario, the lieutenant (symbolic of the Urban Intellectual) utilizes his “army seniority” to exercise influence on his troops, who are drawn from the rural peasant population. But with Chuncho’s assault, this faux spirit is shredded to bits, opening up the class differences between the lieutenant, sitting securely in his carriage, and the soldiers, facing the bullets under the open sky.

Lacking the necessary directive from his senior, the lieutenant eventually turns to his sergeant (analogous to the Organic Intellectual of the instrumental masses – the soldiers, whom Gramsci opined could exercise an influence on the Urban Intellectuals) for advice but the deputy has already passed away. Having lost his authority to the chaos, the lieutenant resorts to individual bravado as a final tact but loses his life in the process.

In Lieutenant’s contrast sits Santo (Klaus Kinski), the half-brother of Chuncho, a priest in the group of bandits. A Rural Intellectual of the Gramscian frame 2 , his kindness and austerity inspire respect. Gramsci believed that the Rural Intellectual had a closer connection to the masses and petty bourgeoisie of the rural landscape. This intellectual represented an aspirational social model to the peasant, who believed that if their sons could elevate to such a role (especially that of a priest), it could lead to an improvement in their economic standards. In fact, Gramsci goes as far as to state that every organic development of the peasant masses can to an extent be linked to these intellectuals,

One can understand nothing of the collective life of the peasantry and of the germs and ferments of development which exist within it, if one does not take into consideration and examine concretely and in depth this effective subordination to the intellectuals.

Santo intermixes his faith with his cause (when rebuked by an army priest for his association with the bandits, he responds, “Christ died between two thieves”), and in contrast to his comrades, remains steadfast in the service to the revolution and the people. He inspires respect from the ordinary peasant mass in the film, including the gun-runners, especially Chuncho who says, “He’s blessed, he’s very pure. He doesn’t know that the arms we steal, we sell them for money.”

It is perhaps Santo’s naivete that keeps him from becoming the revolutionary force for the oppressed in the film. Though Santo is a Rural Intellectual with influence over the peasantry, he isn’t a Peasant Intellectual, for this categorization wasn’t permissible as per Gramsci. The Marxist theorist believed that peasants couldn’t elaborate their Organic Intellectuals or assimilate Traditional Intellectuals, though it is from this grouping that other classes drew their intellectuals. 4 Chuncho shows a lack of this awareness in the episode of San Miguel.

Perhaps the most important of all Gramscian notions introduced in this sequence is the character of Tate, later christened as Niño by Chuncho. Well-dressed in suit, gloves and polished shoes, he is a bounty collector/assassin by profession, but also an Organic Intellectual of the bourgeoisie. He’s quite literally the agent of imperialism, on a mission to eliminate the pro-poor General Elias (Jaime Fernandez). Throughout the movie, he remains an espouser of the values and beliefs of his class.

Gramsci looks beyond mere immediate economic gains or individualistic opportunism when explaining such actions. For him, there is a need for such intellectuals with obvious class linkages, “to create the conditions most favourable to the expansion of their own class.”

By the very membership of an admirable class, Niño has a privileged status in the eyes of the less privileged. He is able to generate an extraordinary amount of “spontaneous consent”, because he belongs to the ruling classes, who enjoy historical prestige because of their position and function in the world of production, and exercise it on the common masses. He’s part of a narrative which is taken as the natural order of things by working classes and peasants because it has been imposed as a norm.The imposed consent has been described by Gramsci in the following words:

The “spontaneous” consent given by the great masses of the population to the general direction imposed on social life by the dominant fundamental group; this consent is “historically” caused by the prestige (and consequent confidence) which the dominant group enjoys because of its position and function in the world of production.” 5

From the poor Mexican kid, who wonders what the well-dressed gentleman thinks about Mexico, the army lieutenant who turns to this complete stranger for advice, and Chuncho, who is impressed by this gringo’s bravado, gives him a membership in his band and quite often treats him as his deputy, Niño leaves a deep impression in the minds of all who meet him.

In many ways, he’s the American dream incarnate: a gentleman used to luxuries that the common Mexican can only yearn to possess. Yet, at the same time this dream is present and accessible to the characters in the film, enamouring them in the process.

Niño uses this privilege to direct the action to his advantage. In the guise of a practical advice, he pushes Chuncho’s gunrunners, with whom he had very limited interaction so far, to leave San Miguel and Chuncho behind with little effort. This includes Adelita (Martine Beswick) whose advances he had spurned earlier in the movie (He woos her with the eternal dream of a better life in an advanced country, “If you’d like, I’d take you north [United States] with me”).

Chuncho himself, undoubtedly attracted to the young American’s looks and ways, treats him like a special entity, willingly making concessions to him through the film. Whenever the Gringo asks him of Elias, Chuncho is more than happy to provide strategic information. Enamoured by the way Niño presents himself, Chuncho instantly forgives him for deserting the cause of San Miguel primarily because he’s a foreigner to the land (“Hey, Niño! I don’t include you in this. You’re a Gringo. Why should you care about Mexico?”) But it’s clear from Chuncho’s expressions that he wants his dear friend to stay and assist him in this adventure.

Chuncho’s adulation of Niño is at its finest, when his band reaches  Don Felipe’s (Andrea Checci) house prior to their stay at San Miguel. When an argument breaks out over the fate of the landlord’s wife and the American’s life is imperilled, Chuncho gets a mad rush of blood and kills one of him comrades in defence of Niño. He struggles to formulate an explanation to this action, but his body effectively says, “Quién Sabe?”

This struggle at the landlord’s residence, brought forth by the revolutionary force hell bent on a payback for his crimes, is also an important occasion to show Niño’s affiliation to his class. At the outset when Raimundo (José Manuel Martin), a local revolutionary from San Miguel who instigates the force to avenge the injustices committed by Don Felipe, doubts Niño’s intentions based on his citizenship of a country that openly supported Venustiano Carranza’s government, he dodges the question with, “I’m not associated with the President of the United States. I’m with Chuncho. We keep taking arms from our enemies and passing them onto Elias.”

When justice is being meted out at Don Felipe’s residence, Niño’s interest lies more in the guns lying in the household rather than Raimundo’s judicial sermons to Felipe. However, he puts himself in danger when he opposes the actions of Chuncho’s men, who are about to assault Rosaria (Carla Gravina), Don Felipe’s young wife. The casual indifferencetindifferencrt suddenly turns vocally hostile.

While on the face of it, this is a defence of a woman’s modesty by a chivalrous male, in deeper terms this is a protection of what he views as his class’s eminence. While he is constructed as an asexual throughout the movie, Niño is far from a “gentleman”, carrying no popular moral reprehensions to sexual degeneracies (He openly tolerates Chuncho’s dealings with prostitutes).

The American doesn’t know the fair-skinned Mexican landlady, the only linkage between the two is the fact that they belong to the historically privileged classes, clearly visible from the way they talk, dress, conduct, and behave. It is Adelita, the sole female bandit, who objects to Niño’s attempt at dissuading Chuncho and his men, “Why are you so concerned? I was only 15 when I was raped by a man like Don Felipe. Why should these women be treated different?” Most moral categorizations would find her words insensitive but they are effective when seen as a calling out of Niño’s class biases.

Perhaps, for Niño this is a war of men, and local muscle like Don Felipe are expendable in the mission to get to Elias. But his bourgeois morality is unable to bear the assault on Rosaria (Carla Gravina), a ‘proper lady’, who’s now under attack from the ‘brutes’ present in Chuncho’s gang. The man who bears nothing but scorn and disgust at the sight of poor Mexicans, endangers his mission when ‘his’ woman is in distress.

How the San Miguel Episode develops Chuncho

At this stage, unlike Niño, Chuncho isn’t a proponent of his class interests yet. Though effectively the commander of the unit that enters Don Felipe’s house, Chuncho prefers to give Raimundo the lead in investigation and delivery of justice. He’s the revolution’s arm, meant to execute tasks of the event instead of embroiling himself in the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’ of things.

When asked for explanations, his reasonings are matter-of-fact sayings (“[To Don Felipe before his death] Unfortunate. This work doesn’t please us, but in this life eventually people must die.”) or in congruence with Raimundo’s thought. He has little idea about social justice, and why the Don must pay for his crimes. He takes the centre stage only when there’s possibility of some action, such as the attack on Niño. Chuncho’s vacillations, present throughout the film, and his turn in favour of Niño towards the end, might get some to assume that he switches between unabashed amoral adventurer in the classic Spaghetti Western mould amidst his bandits and an emotional people’s crusader amidst the common Mexicans.

This, however, is untrue. Despite being aware of the money-making dealings of his gun-running operations, Chuncho sees himself as a revolutionary through and through. All that happens to him is a switch between active (action-based daredevilry to loot arms from Mexican army) and passive (such as the effort to educate and train people of San Miguel about their defence) phases. Given his base nature, Chuncho prefers the former.

One must realize, however, that Chuncho’s perceptions about himself don’t make it the way things are. This is visible from the Don Felipe confrontation itself, wherein he’s at best a vague ideologue. It is during his bearings and trials in San Miguel that Chuncho begins his journey from a romantic ideologue to an intellectual who identifies with his class realities.

Despite being a natural leader to his group, and being seen as a liberator by the people of San Miguel, Chuncho refuses the role of San Miguel’s administrator when the post is offered to him. While there’s the partial need to appear as the ‘warrior stereotype’ to impress Niño, Chuncho seems to sincerely believe that a leader must fulfill certain criteria like that of race, membership of the unprivileged group and education, i.e., the ability to read and write.

When an educated peasant teenager is propped up before him as a possible candidate, Chuncho is more than enthusiastic to accept him. He believes the inexperienced Mexican lad is an intellectual of the peasant class, and would serve their interests. As stated earlier, Gramsci formulated that it was the peasant class which provided intellectuals who assimilated in other classes. The boy though poor and Mexican, and having received education from a priest, isn’t organically linked to his class.

However, his bigger mistake was in assuming that the boy’s educational qualifications, and not the quality of education, would make him a naturally good leader.

Gramsci’s works on education 6 were a critique of Mussolini’s reforms, but primarily dealt with creation of intellectuals within the working classes (based on his autobiographical struggle). While the Italian theorist did not list down a perfect formula to create such intellectuals through a setup, he did place emphasise on the role of the old education system, which was meant to inculcate creative thought process in pupils helping them break from the superstitious belief systems of the past.

A Bullet for the General lacks a school within which Chuncho can be educated to become an intellectual, but nevertheless we see important Gramscian concepts related to education present in the film, that give him the practical experience helpful in fulfilling his journey towards becoming an Organic Intellectual of the working classes. Gramsci firmly approves education among leadership 7 , and his formulations end up applying better to Chuncho.

Just as how political parties see elements of a particular economic group “get beyond that [economic] moment of their historical development and become agents of more general activities of a national and international character.” 8 , thus elaborating intellectuals in philosophical and political field; Chuncho’s union with the people of San Miguel, and the comrades in camp of General Elias push him from a position that’s beyond a mere gun-runner into the sphere of a politically-aware Organic Intellectual.

For this evolution, the first step is breaking off the romantic inside Chuncho. When his gun-runners are leaving San Miguel moments after its liberation in order to sell the arms to fill their pockets, he rebukes the lot for abandoning the revolution.

“I stay to help these people. Aren’t they humans same as us? They’re poor and filthy, but a human being. Same as all of us. Look here [drags a villager near him] there’s no barber here, he doesn’t wear perfume. But he’s a man like the rest of us.” The bandit enunciates his egalitarian beliefs in front of Niño.

This pronouncement is supposed to paint Chuncho as a romantic Robin Hood figure, a popular trope figure in ‘bourgeois’ art: present in movies that resolved steep, complex socio-economic challenges by magical socialist tendencies like slaying of the ‘big bad’.

Unfortunately for Chuncho, his troubles come from the villagers of San Miguel. When dealing with the question of education, Gramsci had pointed out that trouble didn’t lie in curriculum of education as much as the social complex within which men operated. The one-fits-all education was too out of touch with social realities of the pupil, many of whom came from working class backgrounds.

“The problem was not one of model curricula but of men, and not just of the men who are actually teachers themselves but of the entire social complex which they express.” 9

The educational reforms had to value the social realities of the people, otherwise they’d be redundant. Similarly, Chuncho’s trainings and reforms don’t work because it isn’t synonymous with the realities of San Miguel.

The adventurer loses a significant amount of enthusiasm after his gang leaves, but Chuncho’s revolutionary intent suffers a major setback when he sets about training a ragtag bunch of peasants, who have very little knowledge of arms or organized self-defence. Disinterested in a prolonged passive revolutionary stratagem, Chuncho looks for ways to escape. That opportunity comes in the form of the incident of the stolen machine gun. His bandits took advantage of a bureaucratic discrepancy, fooled the young village lad, the new leader, and left with the weapon. This is a great affront to Chuncho’s authority, who believes the machine gun belongs to him as it was discovered under his leadership in San Miguel. While his official reason is to locate the gun for the defence of the village, but it is this perceived slight that drives him away from San Miguel in the hunt of his former comrades.

Before leaving he doesn’t forget to malign the inexperienced rural intellectual thrust into the leadership position at Chuncho’s behest. While this is a lesson for Chuncho, it is also a reflection of yet another basic Gramscian belief in the film 10 . While the peasant loves and yearns for the Rural Intellectual position, there’s also a paradoxical contempt, with his admiration “mingled with instinctive elements of envy and impassioned anger” because of the latter’s better position.

Chuncho hunts down his former comrades and re-establishes his leadership but an ambush leads to several tragic losses, which leaves Niño and himself as the sole proprietors and beneficiaries of the arms that are meant to be brought to General Elias’ camp. As expected, once in the active phase, Chuncho forgets all about his promise to return to the passive revolution in San Miguel.

The undefended village ends up falling victim to a merciless massacre by the rurales. The ‘active’ Chuncho who walks into Elias’ egalitarian yet starving paradise considering himself as a famed provider of the revolution, soon stands trial for betraying his own brothers in the face of fire.

One of the key features about education systems favoured by Gramsci was that they were able to inculcate into the minds of pupils that men faced intractable, natural laws and that men produced legal laws (state and civil society) to govern themselves while living within this order. The assent for these laws must be achieved through spontaneous consent and not coercion, and they can be changed for the collective good. This is how humans can dominate the natural setup.

“It provides a basis for the subsequent development of an historical, dialectical conception of the world, which understands movement and change, which appreciates the sum of effort and sacrifice which the present has cost the past and which the future is costing the present, and which conceives the contemporary world as a synthesis of the past, of all past generations, which projects itself into the future.” 11

The populace of San Miguel could be understood within this framework. Certain historical truths ensured that mere peasants couldn’t suddenly become soldiers of war, the same had been observed by Chuncho through his failure to militarize them. But it wasn’t impossible for them to take into account the changed realities that affected their natural way of living, e.g. livelihood being disrupted due to the civil war, life in danger because of rurales and army brutalities etc.

Through re-education and refined training in the passive phase, these men and women could have yielded revolutionaries of tomorrow who would have worked towards changing the status quo. Of course, it would have taken time and sacrifice, and perhaps revolution of a different kind than Chuncho’s machismo dictated. While he was still a revolutionary in terms of intent, it was perhaps the absence of this understanding on Chuncho’s part, that led to the tragedy in San Miguel. His reaction to the indictment by the instant revolutionary tribunal led by General Elias, one of resignation and self-loathing is an acknowledgment of this error. At this moment, Chuncho realizes that he has betrayed his general, the people and the revolution. He forsakes the money and is ready to face his fate. He has understood his mistakes, and learnt his lessons, even if it’s too late. However, Niño intervenes at this crucial stage, sniping both Elias and Santo, who had tasked himself to get rid of his infidel half-brother Chuncho.

Chuncho: The Organic Intellectual of the Working Classes

In the next sequence, an unhinged and lost Chuncho is seen stalking a hotel near Ciudad Juárez on the lookout for Niño. Aware of the American’s treacherous slaying of General Elias, an enraged Chuncho can’t seem to wait to get his hands on the enemy. However, when he does run into his gringo friend, it takes just one act of kindness from Niño for Chuncho to turn his back on the past. An equal share from the prize money for Elias’ assassination turns Chuncho onto Niño’s side. It has to be explained that these are actions of a man experiencing a loss of his inner moral structure.

Formerly a revolutionary, Chuncho has by the end of the film lost all his comrades and sees himself as a Judas to his cause. His only gain has been the friendship and love of Niño. The American protected Chuncho in Elias’ camp and gave the Mexican a share of the mercenary reward to not only return his past favours, for instance when Chuncho saved Niño’s life after he had contracted malaria earlier, but also believing that Chuncho, quite like himself, was interested in the life and ways of a bounty hunter.

And when Chuncho quite gleefully accepts the blood money, Niño lets out a smirk as if welcoming the now rich Mexican as a class equal. What he misses out is the emptiness that forces Chuncho to become this person. Chuncho joins Niño and his ways because unlike the latter, who is a lone wolf, the Mexican likes company of comrades and loved ones. And the only support for Chuncho, for better or worse, is that of the American. Despite their differing natures, both men place their trust in each other and dream of a future together. However, even as he dips himself in expensive perfumes, women, and alcohol, one hasn’t lost out on the truths Chuncho has learnt throughout the film.

He’s learnt about the impact of class affiliations, the extent to which bourgeoisie and its intellectuals go to maintain their hegemony, and how the working and disadvantaged people can possibly rise beyond their historical state of being. Even as he enjoys the luxuries in a hotel of Ciudad Juárez, we realize that his detachment from the revolutionary cause and disbelief in self is a temporary phenomenon, for it is in these urban environments, where the wheels of capitalism have had a significantly greater run, the class differences are more pronounced than anywhere else. Chuncho is like a powder keg, educated on the true state of class affairs, a flicker away from realizing himself as an Organic Intellectual of the working classes.

It is interesting to note that the movie shows the urban poor in a state of penury whereas in the camps of Elias or San Miguel, despite lack of food and resources there is at least a sense of hope and camaraderie.

Just before the “Quién Sabe?” occurrence at the railway station, we see Chuncho witness Niño shoving the poor Mexicans around to get ahead in a ticketing queue. Soon after, Chuncho is followed by a shoe-shiner who he treats like a Señor, perhaps taken in by his suit and tie. The shoe-shiner’s helpless eyes rattle the former bandit, who had been unwittingly reminded of his illiteracy and inadequacy by Niño at the hotel moments back.

From the very start, Bill Tate is a precarious customer. While his risk-taking earns him big rewards, he shows traits of irreverent carelessness. His act of playing the cool ‘bad’ guy works till his mannerisms daunted and enchanted the Mexicans. Unbeknownst to him, the man next to him is no longer a buddy looking forward to continuing adventurous schemes up north in USA, but an Organic Intellectual standing for the interests of his class. Chuncho’s aware that Niño and his likes, define equality and justice on parameters set by and in interests of their class.

In this explosive situation, a misstep turns costly. Just as they are about to board their train, Chuncho almost begs Niño, for whom there is still deep love and affection in his heart, to give him a reason to stop. Surely if the American is a wanted outlaw up in USA, it is in their best interests to stay behind in Mexico. But Niño, assuming he’s talking to a fellow class ally, lets out the fact that this statement made at the beginning of the movie, was a mere ruse to join Chuncho’s gang.

Even as Niño expresses shock at Chuncho’s decision to kill him, the latter is emotionally wrecked yet determined to get through with this. He has killed individuals on an impulse earlier, however, when Chuncho utters “Quién Sabe?” in front of his comrade and perhaps the last person he could have called his own, it is a calculated and deliberate call. The class enemy had to be eliminated.

Soon after, Chuncho shoves away the ‘alienated essence of his labour’, the money paid to him by Niño. And in that moment, despite the absence of an education system to guide him or a political party to imbibe him, Chuncho has truly become the Organic Intellectual of the working classes in the Gramscian frame. His final words to the shoe-shiner, before escaping, are meant to stir the Proletarian into action.

“Don’t buy bread with that money hombre, buy dynamite!”

Bibliography

Gramsci, Antonio. Selections from the Prison Notebooks, Lawrence and Wishart (1971), Aakar Books for South Asia (2015).

Notes

1. Gramsci: Selections from the Prison Notebooks, The Intellectuals, Lawrence and Wishart (1971), Aakar Books for South Asia (2015), pg 9 ↩
2. Gramsci, Intellectuals, 14 ↩
3. Gramsci, Intellectuals, 14 ↩
4. Gramsci, Intellectuals, 6 ↩
5. Gramsci, Intellectuals, 12 ↩
6. Gramsci: Selection from the Prison Notebooks, On Education, 24 ↩
7. Gramsci, Education, 28, In particular he believes that political leaders needed a minimum general technical culture program to understand resolutions put forward by experts. ↩
8. Gramsci, Intellectuals, 16 ↩
9. Gramsci, Education, 36. ↩
10. Gramsci, Intellectual, 14 ↩
11. Gramsci, Education, 34. ↩

Volume 28, Issue 11-12 / December 2024 Essays