 |
Would you like this to happen to your
land? The
'revegetated area' of the Yanacocha mine in Maqui
Maqui, Peru,
after 10 years of gold mining.
Photo: Abramovich / Wikimedia Commons. |
If the state does not defend citizens against the
violence and destruction of mining, people and communities must defend
themselves, writes Raul Zibechi. And in Peru and Colombia that's exactly
what they are doing, re-asserting indigenous control of the land and
its resources.
When states act to facilitate the business
of multinationals and leave communities unprotected, as with mining,
those communities have no choice but to defend themselves by their own
means-through self-defense organizations, mobilization of affected
communities, or the creation of new ways to prevent dispossession.
Peru and Colombia are experiencing this situation today. Resistance
to mining in the Andean region shows great vitality as in the opposition
to the Conga gold mining project in northern Peru and in some regions
of the Colombian Cauca.
In both cases, local populations have managed to slow or reverse mining, always thanks to direct community action.
Peru's environment regulator is hobbled
In Peru, Ollanta Humala's government approved a package of measures
to facilitate foreign investment. Even the United Nations thinks it
could affect the environment. A letter from the UN's Peruvian office to
the chancellor stated
"legitimate concern, on the part of the United Nations system, over the impact that the new economic measures might entail."[1]
The package of measures approved on July 12 is questioned for
"cuts
to the functions of the Environmental Evaluation and Supervision Agency
(Organismo de Evaluación y Fiscalización Ambiental, OEFA), the
specialized technical agency ascribed to the Ministry of Environment
(Ministerio del Ambiente, MINAM)." [2]
The relaxation of the environmental control norms foreshadows the
fact that the OEFA will only be able to issue sanctions in exceptional
cases for three years. And whenever it does, it will have to appeal for
corrective measures without imposing fines.
If corrective measures are not met, the OEFA may impose fines, but
only for 50% of current amounts. It is thought that this repression of
environmental control
"opens doors to the impunity of irresponsible industry." [3]
The latest report from the Observatory of Mining Conflicts in Peru (Observatorio de Conflictos Mineros en el Perú) concludes:
"This package of legislative reforms reminds us of the legislative decrees that led to the tragic events of Bagua" [4] - referring to the June 5th 2009 massacre in the Amazon in which over 100 people were killed. [5]
Environment Ministry powers removed
The report adds that the
"package, in order to improve and build
investor confidence, openly removes Ministry of Environment powers over
the creation of protected areas, the issue of land use systems,
ecologically economic zones, ceilings and limits, and environmental
quality standards." [6]
And it concludes:
"A government like this, that destroys what
little there was in terms of environmental institutions, has no moral
authority for becoming the host of the COP 20 event."
Indeed, the reduction of environmental legislation in order to
attract investment is happening the same year Peru will host the UN
Convention on Climate Change's Conference of the Parties (COP 20), in
Lima, Dec. 1-23.
Over 100 international civil society organizations involved in the
COP 20 process sent a letter to the [Peruvian] government, stating that
the measures to promote investment
"constitute a serious setback for Peru in the environmental realm." [7]
In the face of the stable and ongoing advance of mining megaprojects,
communities know they have no way to defend themselves other than
activating old forms of self defense, something that has been happening
in much of Latin America. In Peru, resistance to mining has a name:
campesino patrols.
From campesino patrols to lagoon guardians
Campesino patrols emerged in the late 1970s in northern
Peru, in response to the inability or unwillingness of the Peruvian
state to curb the increase in cattle theft. They were groups of
campesinos that roamed the community territory, doing collective surveillance by night. The
campesino patrols reinvented collective ancestral practices:
"At the beginning, the patrols captured thieves and turned them
over to the police, but on seeing that this did not result in effective
punishment, they began to organize their own justice system, managed
collectively by the assembly." [8]
For the patrols, justice consists in the educational character of
punishment (which could be whipping) and reconciliation with the
community.
Within a few years, the patrols spread throughout the north, gaining
enormous status, because they brought cattle rustling under control and
later stopped the entry of the Shining Path.
The
campesino patrols became a form of popular power with
relative autonomy from the state. In addition to surveillance and
justice, community members took over local development projects,
inspiring a variety of political practices.
The patrols' new role: territorial defense
With the advance of neoliberalism and the mining industry's powerful entrance into
campesino territories, the
campesino
patrols assumed responsibility for territorial defense and care of the
commons - especially in Piura and Cajamarca against projects like Conga.
They are not only slowing the projects down, but also driving new forms of struggle forward.
Rapahel Hoetmer notes that in
"neighborhood consultations on
mining in Ayabaca and Huancabamba in Piura, the patrols not only took
care of security and order during the referendum. They also participated
in the organization and prior consultation and background information." [9]
They not only held protests, but installed gates in order to regulate
access to communal land up and set up camps to guard lagoons. [These]
began to be called
"guardians of the lagoons", installed permanently, rotating over the Andean highlands since October 2012.
"The campesino patrols", Hoetmer continues,
"are a
regulatory and disciplinary institution of everyday life, with
extraordinary influence in the northern part of the country, [a region]
that has been criticized for its patriarchal and conservative
character." [10]
Uniting communities against outside threats
Women's participation is growing - with the creation of women's
patrols - even becoming one of the principal protagonists in territorial
defense. Magdiel Carrión, a member of Ayabaca's
campesino& patrols, explains the different roles:
"In the community, both men and women are part of the patrols.
It's not obligatory for women; they will choose if they want to be part
or not. However, that committees of women's patrols exist is obligatory.
The only thing they don't do is the night service." [11]
A patrol is formed in each village, whose members rotate. Local
territorial organization is coordinated at the district and provincial
level, as well as at the national scale.
The XI Congress of Cajamarca
Campesino Patrols took place in
January, with 2,045 delegates from 13 provinces. Among the approved
agreements figure: a regional strike against the Conga megaproject, the
rejection of the use of NGOs in community struggles, and an
understanding
"that the fight against Conga is of the community and not of any party." [12]
Carrión explains that the fight against mining requires coordination with other political actors, but warns that
"we
cannot allow the struggles to be capitalized on by partisan interests.
That's a big problem, for me, even bigger than most internal community
problems." [13]
Over the years, the
campesino patrols have gained in
maturity, and are no longer divided into political bands as it was in
the early years. Community is their principal referent. Defending
territory is their objective.
Now the 'Lagoon Guardians', they work to become a national reference
point for the defense of life, health and economic security based on
community justice.
Indigenous Guard - closing down wildcat mining
In some parts of northern Cauca in Colombia, communities have
succeeded in driving the mining industry out, seizing the machinery, and
filling in the tunnels, thanks to the communal decision executed under
the protection of the Indigenous Guard.
This is what happened in the Munchique Los Tigres reserve, near the town of Santander de Quilichao. On March 14, 2013, a
"territorial control" minga (communal work) was set up to combat artisanal mining in the area.
Hundreds of community members from Munchique and Canoas reserves - in
the Andean foothills - ensured compliance with a collective decision,
summarized in the slogan
"No to mining". [14]
The problem is that multinationals and large machinery arrive behind
artisanal mining. Contamination by cyanide and mercury appears in the
rivers and streams, and communities become divided and sick, as the
authorities say.
The March action was decided on Jan. 7 in a large community meeting.
It came after long debates, because some people in the community had
been digging tunnels and using machinery to extract gold. The community
found the damage and gave the miners a two-month deadline for filling in
the mining tunnels and selling the mills.
The story on the
Tejido de Comunicación page of the Associations of Indigenous Councils of Northern Cauca speaks for itself:
"More
than 1,200 people, working in two commissions, climbed the hills,
looking for holes in the orange earth from east to west." They found 20 tunnels of up to 300 feet in depth.
"The community took charge of filling in the tunnels that had not
yet been filled. For the council, the balance of the minga is positive.
This is not only in matters of monitoring the compliance of assembly
decisions, but also because [the minga] seeks to raise awareness of the
environmental and social problems that mining brings to the territory in
the community." [15]
Mining is the thin end of a wide and dangerous wedge
A year later, in April 2014, a similar action against the mining
industry was taken by indigenous councils in Huellas, Toez, and López
Adrento, also in northern Cauca. A collective statement notes that
"before being Colombians, we are originally indigenous peoples
and we have always maintained diverse forms of social control over uses
and customs in territories in defense of autonomy, harmony, and
equilibrium of our Uma Kiwe (Mother Earth)." [16]
On that basis, they decided to
"harmonize the territory by evicting the mining machinery affecting the territory and the community."
Mining is just the advance party of the war: the ACIN believes that,
since late 2013, the presence of mining machinery has increased in
regional territories, leading to the presence of armed actors, both
paramilitaries and drug traffickers and guerrillas.
The three council statement ends with a call to leaders of
Afro-descended communities to join resistance to mining, with the
objective of evicting the machinery and staff that conduct mining
operations and produce contamination.
"In particular, we call the Indigenous Guard to join the order
that distinguishes us, and help guide the community it could accompany."[17]
Enforcing collective decisions and community law
Territorial defense has a long tradition in northern Cauca, and it
corresponds to the Guard's enforcement of collective decisions. The
Guard is under the authority of the council and the community, which
establish rules and requirements for those who provide service to the
guard.
Authorities select people based on the proposals of each
vereda (territorial division). Guard service lasts one or two years. It rotates, as all the community members must enlist.
The Indigenous Guard's structure is simple: each
vereda chooses
ten guards and one coordinator by assembly; then a back-up coordinator
is chosen, and another for the entire region, always in agreement with
council governors.
There are about 3,500 guards for 18 councils in northern Cauca,
basically made up of young people and women from 12 to 50 years old.
Luis Alberto Mensa, guard coordinator in the region, explains:
"Training is the most important aspect, through workshops in
which human rights and our law, native law, is discussed. We prioritize
political formation over physical exercise." [18]
Everyone that becomes part of the Indigenous Guard must go through
workshops in the habits and customs of the Nasa people. One of the key
aspects is denominated 'our own law' or community justice that directs
Indigenous Guard activity.
Rooted in indigenous society and world view
Participation in the guard is voluntary and unpaid. Most participants
are young people supported by their neighbors, who collaborate to
maintain family gardens for the duration of Guard service.
The Indigenous Guard are in charge of concentrating the population
into predetermined sites when military confrontations or armed
aggressions take place. Thanks to this mode of conflict-resistance -
sticking to the land - Nasa communities have managed to avoid massive
population displacement so common in war zones.
Its resistance strategies consist of encouraging food sovereignty,
community gardens, and training processes such as permanent assemblies
for reflection and decision-making and strengthening their own law and
authorities.
Peaceful resistance is another one of the Guard's distinguishing
characteristics. Every six months the guards, in line with the worldview
to which they ascribe, participate in community harmonization and
cleansing rituals guided by traditional doctors (
Thë Wala), as a kind of cleaning-out. Collective and individual problems are addressed.
In 2004, the Indigenous Guard received the National Peace Prize,
awarded annually to a group of institutions, including the United
Nations and the Friedrich Ebert Foundation.
It has become an important reference for other indigenous peoples of
Colombia, as well as for grassroots sectors who see community
self-defense as a response to vulnerability and state and paramilitary
harassment.
Raúl Zibechi is international relations editor at the magazine Brecha
in Montevideo, adviser to grassroots organizations and writer of the monthly Zibechi Report of the CIP Americas Program.
Translation: Paige M. Patchin.
This article was originally published by
CounterPunch.
NOTES.
[1]
RPP Noticias, 30 de junio de 2014 en
http://www.rpp.com.pe/2014-06-30-onu-preocupada-por-paquete-de-medidas-economicas-en-el-peru-noticia_704367.html
[2] Servindi, 16 de julio de 2014 en
http://servindi.org/actualidad/108824
[3] Idem.
[4] 14° Informe del Observatorio de Conflictos Mineros en el Perú, Cooperacción/Grufides/Fedepaz, Lima, julio de 2014, p. 52. En
http://www.cooperaccion.org.pe/
[5] "Masacre en la Amazonia",
http://www.cipamericas.org/es/archives/1629
[6] Idem. p. 53.
[7] Carta al gobierno peruano, 8 de junio en
http://servindi.org/actualidad/108572
[8] Raphael Hoetmer, "Las rondas campesinas no son grupos terroristas", en
Contrapunto N° 4, Montevideo, mayo de 2014, p. 83.
[9] Idem.
[10] Idem, p. 86.
[11]
Contrapunto N° 4, mayo de 2014, p. 91.
[12] En Central Única Nacional de Rondas Campesinas del Perú,
http://cunarcperu.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=677:se-realizo-con-exito-el-xi-congreso-ordinario-de-rondas-campesinas&catid=1:latest-news&Itemid=1
[13]
Contrapunto, p. 93.
[14] En
http://www.nasaacin.org/informativo-nasaacin/nuestra-palabra-kueta-susuza-2013/5496-munchique-los-tigres-contra-la-mineria-todos-somos-responsables
[15] Idem.
[16] En
http://nasaacin.org/comunicados-2013/6822-caloto-%E2%80%93-cauca-acciones-de-control-territorial-en-los-cabildos-ind%C3%ADgenas-de-huellas,-toez-y-l%C3%B3pez-adentro
[17] Idem.
[18] "Autoprotección indígena contra la guerra" en
http://www.cipamericas.org/es/archives/774
