Organise & Resist: the Minga

El Meson, Cauca, Colombia

So I experienced my first taste of the Minga. It's pronounced Ming-ga. It's funny, in colloquial British a minga is what you call someone unattractive, and in Spanish from Spain means cock. In Colombia, the Minga de Resistencia Social y Comunitaria is the Minga of Social and Communal Resistance, currently Colombia's most bristling social movement. Originating in the Cauca region of the South-West of Colombia, it started as the collective name for the indigenous groups and their physical collective presence. So a Minga is the gathering itself, rather than just an abstract collective noun. A good intro is here, the cover story of the last Frontline Latin America. Which, if you're interested in Latin American politics of resistance, is a superb publication and well worth the £6 subscription.

Last weekend was the Minga de Pensamiento in Bógota, Colombia's capital city, perched up at 2640m, making it the 3rd highest capital in the world after La Paz and Quito. That also makes it pretty chilly, having to wear my hoodie in the daytime for the first time since the Mexican hills in November. The Minga de Pensamiento is the ideological forum of the Minga. Since the Minga marched to Bogota last October, they have expanded their remit to include Indigenous, Afro-descendants and campesinos (farmers), and are nationalising their presence.

The Minga have 5 key points of agreement as springboards for action and mobilisation.
1. The right to life and human rights
2. Sovereignty, earth and territory
3. Plunder, displacement and economic models
4. Incompleted agreements
5. The agenda of the peoples

cuidad de bolivar, bógota

So on Saturday, we split the plenary forum from the morning into these 5 groups, to travel to different parts of Bógota for 'fireside' discussions. I went on the human rights tulpa to the Cuidad de Bolivar, in the South-West outskirts into the foothills that surround Bogota. The meeting room soon filled with over 100 participants, with an impressive amount of young people present, as well as gender-balanced. Discussion ensued around what we are struggling against (in terms of violations against human rights) and who is responsible for these violations.

"In spite of all the riches in the country, the open mine right here in our community is benefitting only the rich".

We spoke about visibilising and denouncing human rights violations - e.g. assassinations, disappearances, death threats, arbitrary detention - which are still happening at an increasing rate. We spoke about collective suicide by removing the blood from Mother Earth. We spoke about the struggle against impunity - the legal system totally failing to cope with the violence and this effect on memory. Part of the role of justice is recognition of crimes, and this has a role in constructing collective memory. This is what the campaign "forbidden to forget" (Prohibido Olvidar) work to do.

We then spoke about proposals, with a few clear ones emerging. The first was for the Minga to develop their own set of human rights norms, recognising the Universal Declaration of Human Rights as a largely white-Western-liberal created set of norms. We spoke about the creation of a national Minga Guardia. Currently in Cauca, the Minga organise a Guardia - local people volunteering to take responsibility for protecting their territory - armed only with sticks but with moral supremacy. The proposal would widen this nationally, and also encompass the new expanded remit not exclusive to indigenous groups. We also spoke about modes of communication, opening new spaces to operate, communicate and organise.

Sunday we regrouped, shared summaries together, then were treated to a punk band that almost felt New Labour with the bright lights school hall feel. And then some beautiful folk guitarist afterwards. Later we took the nightbus to Cali for the next stage, around the Cuaca and Valle region.

Arriving Monday morning into Cali, we headed straight for the Resguardo de Honduras, an Indigenous Reserve where leaders have been killed and threatened by paramilitaries and the military over the last few years. 17 days ago, 3 locals were killed, claimed by the military as 'in combat'. This is a case in point in the midst of a national "false positives" scandal, where victims of assassinations are dressed up in combats and claimed as FARC deaths in combat in order to fulfil kill targets. Meanwhile, AngloGold Ashanti, a South-Africa-based mining multinational, and Repsol, a Spanish oil company, are both active in the area.

community assembly

Arriving from the bus from Cali to the nearest town to the Resguardo (Reserve), we changed buses onto a Chiva. This is a monster bus with open sides and no aisle, crammed to busting point, including the roof. Meeting us was a local Guardia Indigena escort about 50 strong. At the endpoint of the bus, we were met by another 50, who joined us for the 45 minute walk to Chorrera Blanca. We arrived at 4pm, in time for a round of introductions, in front of a community assembly of over 200 locals, again well represented in terms of age and gender.


On Tuesday the assembly began proper. Repression started in the Indigenous areas here in the 1980s, with the presence of the armed forces in indigenous territories. Then the massacres began in 3 reserves. Then they began building military bases. Disappearances followed, along with the forced displacement of a few families. More recently, the paramilitary group AUC (United Self-Defence Forces of Colombia) entered the area in late 2000. In 2007/8 threats to local leaders began - presidents of action groups, teachers, governors - threats sent by text message, spoken by phone, and written. Local human rights organisations such as Nomadesc, accompanying us, document these threats.

this man cooks for 500 people at a go! and the rice is amazing! i struggle making rice for 6.

Meanwhile, AngloGold Ashanti have 1600 hectares of mining rights in the area. Clearly, to get under the ground, they need to clear what on the ground out of the way. We have seen internal documents of AngloGold that outline figures on the amount of people that will have to be displaced in the area. AngloGold Ashanti (AGA) is actually based in South Africa, with AngloAmerican (based in London) selling their majority stake last year. South African mining capital comes straight off the back of Apartheid, with AGA set up in 1895. With the end of apartheid, AGA's interests shifted abroad to see where it could exploit, and its interests would be most easily facilitated through pliant governments and legislation. Enter Colombia into the picture.

queueing for grub

By 4pm we were ready to leave, but the governor was refusing to allow the Guardia to accompany us to the next area, 2 hours walk away. Despite this, 200 people accompanied the 5 guardia that ignored orders, walking with us to El Mesón. The late afternoon breeze cooling the fading scarlet sun against a stunning backdrop of collosal thousand metre valleys juxtaposed the relentless torture these communities have experienced for the last 30 years.

We went straight into someone's house for the classic Colombian meal - served at breakfast, lunch and dinner - of soup (variations - this time was bean soup) with rice, beans & grilled beef and a glass of panela - unrefined sugar water. At least in Colombia, unlike a lot of Central America, they don't use sachets of Maggi monosodium glutemate flavourings. Then after, as we were checking out or lodgings, the sky opened up and we were surrounded by thunder, lightening, and a trillion gallons of rain came down with what seemed like a double dose of gravity. Sitting on the veranda, watching this unfold next to a roofed hamlet square - the size of a football pitch - under which a local band were setting up, while others toiled with the fact that the place's electricity had just gone out, made for a spectacle firmly etched into my brain with fond memory.

After the rain subsided, we were treated to some live folk music, before a circle meeting with the locals, going around introducing ourselves and hearing about local issues. Key issues here were about water and power - community fundamentals - with ESPA, the Spanish water company recently privatising the water supply. Funny, in a tiny village surrounded by natural water sources, the locals struggle to get access to it. And despite privatisation, the local energy supplier gives an average of 6 days supply a month - but bill for the full month.

And afterwards, the band resumed for a jolly good knees-up. After plenty of aguardiente - local moonshine - and dancing and talking all night, I crawled into bed at 4.30am with renewed vitality after a pretty emotionally grueling few days.

local cheeky chappie