Here is a clickable summary of the six parts of my report in order - as brief as I could make it.
1. In At The Deep End - 16th-17th July, Bogota
2. Organise & Resist: The Minga - 18th-21st July, Bogota, Cali & Cauca
3. 117 Families Facing Eviction - 22nd July, La Toma, Suarez, Cauca
4. Caminando La Palabra (Walking The Word) - 23rd-26th July, Cauca
5. 4 Days & 4 Places - 27th-30th July, Cauca
6. 19 Days And Still Standing - 31st July-4th August, Cauca, Caldes, Tolima
Friday, August 7, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
19 Days And Still Standing
mining community at La Marmota
weighing up 2 days workSo last Thursday after leaving Cais Maloka, we came back to Cali, where we had a couple of meetings with some local trade unionists. Then that evening, we took the 5 hour bus to Manizales, in Caldas, ready for our meetings with communities around Riosucio, where AngloGold Ashanti are active.
Friday was a packed day, with 2 days worth of stuff squashed into one, as the next day we were invited to Cajamarca for a symbolic action of resistance against AngloGold. We were whisked to the first Indigenous Reserve of Escopetera Pircie, for breakfast with the local human rights groups. The general format for meetings is that we have a go-around, everyone introduces themselves and gives a summary of what their interests in the meeting are. I've got my patter pretty down by now, and it's funny how the 4 of us change our intro depending on what order we are sat in.
This area, the department of Caldas, is a particular hot-spot thanks to its geostrategic location in the middle of the gold triangle of Bogota-Medellin-Cali. Nonetheless, the usual topics came up, AngloGold Ashanti active in the area, Smurfitt-Carbon also active with their massive mono-culture pine forests, and water issues. 3,500 people have been displaced from the Reserve in the last 20 years and there have been 450 assassinations recorded. Since the 2003 Inter-American Court of Human Rights case about the area, there have been 167 assassinations. 80% of these have been declared "crimes of passion" by the state. All this, and the area is now declared a "post-conflict zone". So AngloGold can come and sweep away the remaining people and tear up the stunningly beautiful countryside to create open-cast gold mines for their shareholders to line their pockets. Post-conflict...
After breakfast, we were taken to the town centre, and into a building with stunning views of the surrounding hills through the large windows. The visit was very ceremonious, with generous helpings of a panela-clove drink that reminded Andy of cough syrup. A lady in long white robes stood at the back of the room blowing cigar smoke over the heads of the audience with a cleansing wave. The meeting was opened by the governor, contextualising present day defense of territory and biodiversity within 500 years of resistance to imperialism. Now, the community's position on mining is a clear no to multinationals. However, a more complex explanation of how they are resisting was lacking.
After lunch of rice, plantain, potato, yucca and chicken wrapped in banana leaf, we got back in the 4x4 (paid for by a recent EU project) and were taken to the San Lorenzo Reserve. Here we met 25 local community representatives, 90% men, in a school classroom. The conversation here was a little more pointed, looking at strategies of resistance. First, the local tradition of mobilization means that they seem to be ready if things kick off. The trouble is that the plunder is usually given a veneer of legality, so that by the time evictions come they are backed by the long arm of the law. Really, mobilization needs to be pro-active and national, rather than local and reactive. Second, the role of the guardia has the potential, at this stage seems more like symbolic resistance rather than arming the barricades. And thirdly, the role of indigenous medicine, which I would like to know more about, but didn't get the opportunity to explore further.
reason number 8 against large-scale gold mining: water pollution
Saturday morning, up at 5am, and the day exactly one year ago I left the UK. We said goodbye to Rogelio and Lucia, leaving 2 of us, as they headed onwards and we caught the bus to Cajamarca. Cajamarca is in the region of Tolima, also within the Bogota-Cali-Medellin triangle, and where AngloGold Ashanti have been most active in trying to win over the community. Specifically, we were going to a local school, where AGA delivered a load of paint to brighten up the school. The community decided to return the paint, did a whip-round in the village, bought their own paint and today were painting the school. A huge symbol of grass-roots defiance and resistance to corporate attempts to buy off the community.
Later in the afternoon, after interviewing a few of the locals involved, we headed back into the town to meet with local activists in the community. The angle into mobilization against AGA here is socio-environmental. What AGA have up their sleeves is plans for one of the world's largest open-cast gold mines - right in the middle of some of Latin America's most stunning countryside and fragile war-battered communties. They have had numerous schmooze-the-community events, and recently a helicopter dangling a strange probe was seen flying at low level around the valleys.
The key demand of the community is a full independent socio-environmental investigation into the impact of the mine. Part of this would include the potential effects on the El MachÃn volcano - open cast mining involves use of vast quantities of dynamite - whilst within 15km lies Number 2 on the world list of volcanoes in most danger of erupting, which would cover the town of Cajamarca in at least 20cm of lava. The other demand is what the law demands - a public consultation - amounting to a regional referendum of all areas involved. Another legal element is the mining concessions that include protected forest areas - how would these forests be protected if turned into an open-cast mine?
Sunday we spent the morning in the town square interviewing locals on their views on the mine. Their opinions ranged from the environmental to the social - all opposed - a key concern noted was the impact on town society. Workers would be brought in from all around the country, undermining local trust networks, and bringing social ills such as prostitution, robbery and burglary. One wisely noted that not a single open cast gold mine in the world had brought any benefits whatsoever to the local community. Later we met with the local mayor. Basically he didn't want his neck on the line, and played a very middle of the road line. Unsuprising, but disappointing.
Monday we hit the road for Marmota, backtracking through Manizales to Caldas, as this was mentioned when we were there as being a very interesting and sad case study of multinational exploitation in gold in the area. Rather than restate the facts - this article gives an excellent history, published in Canada, where Colombia Goldfields, the company involved, is based. No UK involvement here, but an excellent example of why mining multinationals are bad news.
And now, I'm alone in Cali, ready to head to La Toma for the planned eviction on the 6th. It's been a marathon, but absolutely enchanting to get to know rural Colombia with an insider's perspective, not on the tourist trail and have an emotional connection. It's a magical place, replete with a turbulent history of 500 years of oppression and imperialism, still strongly redolent of Spanish colonialism despite celebrating 200 years of "independence" next year. But resistance is strongly rooted in the blood of Colombians, Afro-Colombians, campesinos and Indigenous alike. The seeds of hope of a brighter future are spreading, slowly, and cannot be extinguished, no matter how many U.S. military bases they build.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
4 Days & 4 Places
Cali, Colombia
[photos to come... patience]
4 days, 4 very different places. From observing a human rights community meeting with the UN, to going back to La Toma for their community assembly to discuss their mass eviction on the 6th August, to the other side of the valley where last week death threats were last week painted onto the walls of the village, to a rural project linked to New Generation in London where last night army troops had decided to occupy a farmhouse. Just another week in the Cauca.
After a heavy night, it was with relief that we weren't the centre of attention at this meeting, with the UN, in La Maria. We watched as local groups submitted reports about local situations to the delegation present on their high table, and spoke about their local issues.
On Monday we headed back to La Toma, the place with the forthcoming mass eviction, for a community meeting to which we were invited when we were there before. We arrived to find a packed covered area, with around 300 people. However our inviter was nowhere to be seen, making it slightly awkward to make our presence. The meeting itself was heavily front-centric, with very little opportunity for community input. There was a call-out for a march to Bogota, which was met with rapturous applause. An interesting idea, but takes the mobilization out of the local area. There was little room for suggestion of anything resembling local action in the community. And nothing suggesting mobilization on the eviction date of the 6th August. Nonetheless, the importance of unity of this black afro-colombian community with indigenous and campesino communties was noted in the struggle against mining multinationals.
Later in the afternoon we walked 45 minutes down a steep narrow mountain path to the community of Gelim, site of proposed evictions. Here there were workshops going on, when we arrived the local residents had split into groups to work on building a picture of local work and resources, and histories thereof. We caught up with them later after a delicious dinner, meeting in the school yard in a large circle. Here we heard how the community are ready to defend their territory by force if needed, if the eviction happens.
Since 2004, mining has been a main form of earning a living in the area. In 2005, Kedadha began their interests in the area, coming to a local meeting painting the wonders of the company. Since then, they have had a strategy to penetrate the community, including the mining rights through intermediaries Jesus Ario and Fernando Ruis. Law 70 of 1993, article 44, grants the legal right to public consultation before mining takes place... of which none has taken place. The community feel backed into a corner - both metaphorically and literally, into harder to reach pockets of territory that has been theirs for 409 years.
On Tuesday morning we received warnings from 2 sources not to visit Cerro Tijeras, our next stop on the other side of the river. In the end we decided it safe to visit the lower part of the village. The area is the site of recent fighting between the FARC and the military. We wanted to see the graffiti that had recently been painted in the town, signed by the Black Eagles paramilitary group. It read "We are coming for you sons-of-bitches leaders. Thieves 8 days to give yourselves up sons-of-bitches thieves. Black Eagles. Death Melba, Enrique, Leandro, Leonardo, Meraldino". Another read "Manipulative snitch leaders. Dead. Black Eagles". It is highly unusual that the Black Eagles do this without also leaving written threats, usually a letter posted under a door. This, additional to the fact that the army are right here in the village leads to the suspicion that it was the army that painted the threats rather than the Black Eagles. We then visited the village of Olivares, where the ex-governor Enrique has now received so many threats (including being mentioned in the above threat) he has left the village for fear of his life.
Wednesday we headed to Dagua, an hour from Cali, back in Valle del Cauca, to visit Cais Maloka, a project up in the hills towards the coast. They are linked to Nueva Generacion in London, a Latin American collective working cross-culturally to raise awareness of local issues, stimulate change and promote their culture. In Colombia, they are working on building a collective farm, working with children and young people to become change-makers, and through principles of Participatory Action Research. We paid this beautiful finca a visit, and having heard that the army had stationed themselves illegally in the upper farmhouse, to see what was going on, with a local human rights defender. We found that they'd left, but left behind a "Colombian Army" towel as evidence, along with various bits of litter.
Sitting around an open fire, I watched the cloud-line sink below us. It's so hard to marry the totally tranquil serenity up here with the knowledge of what's going on in this an countless other areas in Colombia. People are afraid to talk to each other about politics, to come to meetings. Meanwhile, the water supply has been privatised and bills push higher and higher. You might understand that when you live in a city of a million, having to pay for water, but when you live surrounded by natural sources of water it really boggles belief. Not only that, but the natural water that there is, is being drained to feed the pine mono-cultures that belong to the shareholders of Smurfitt-Kappa Carton, that Irish company I mentioned. It's here that I see the real effects of capital, punishing a population for daring to try and continue existing.
[photos to come... patience]
4 days, 4 very different places. From observing a human rights community meeting with the UN, to going back to La Toma for their community assembly to discuss their mass eviction on the 6th August, to the other side of the valley where last week death threats were last week painted onto the walls of the village, to a rural project linked to New Generation in London where last night army troops had decided to occupy a farmhouse. Just another week in the Cauca.
After a heavy night, it was with relief that we weren't the centre of attention at this meeting, with the UN, in La Maria. We watched as local groups submitted reports about local situations to the delegation present on their high table, and spoke about their local issues.
On Monday we headed back to La Toma, the place with the forthcoming mass eviction, for a community meeting to which we were invited when we were there before. We arrived to find a packed covered area, with around 300 people. However our inviter was nowhere to be seen, making it slightly awkward to make our presence. The meeting itself was heavily front-centric, with very little opportunity for community input. There was a call-out for a march to Bogota, which was met with rapturous applause. An interesting idea, but takes the mobilization out of the local area. There was little room for suggestion of anything resembling local action in the community. And nothing suggesting mobilization on the eviction date of the 6th August. Nonetheless, the importance of unity of this black afro-colombian community with indigenous and campesino communties was noted in the struggle against mining multinationals.
Later in the afternoon we walked 45 minutes down a steep narrow mountain path to the community of Gelim, site of proposed evictions. Here there were workshops going on, when we arrived the local residents had split into groups to work on building a picture of local work and resources, and histories thereof. We caught up with them later after a delicious dinner, meeting in the school yard in a large circle. Here we heard how the community are ready to defend their territory by force if needed, if the eviction happens.
Since 2004, mining has been a main form of earning a living in the area. In 2005, Kedadha began their interests in the area, coming to a local meeting painting the wonders of the company. Since then, they have had a strategy to penetrate the community, including the mining rights through intermediaries Jesus Ario and Fernando Ruis. Law 70 of 1993, article 44, grants the legal right to public consultation before mining takes place... of which none has taken place. The community feel backed into a corner - both metaphorically and literally, into harder to reach pockets of territory that has been theirs for 409 years.
On Tuesday morning we received warnings from 2 sources not to visit Cerro Tijeras, our next stop on the other side of the river. In the end we decided it safe to visit the lower part of the village. The area is the site of recent fighting between the FARC and the military. We wanted to see the graffiti that had recently been painted in the town, signed by the Black Eagles paramilitary group. It read "We are coming for you sons-of-bitches leaders. Thieves 8 days to give yourselves up sons-of-bitches thieves. Black Eagles. Death Melba, Enrique, Leandro, Leonardo, Meraldino". Another read "Manipulative snitch leaders. Dead. Black Eagles". It is highly unusual that the Black Eagles do this without also leaving written threats, usually a letter posted under a door. This, additional to the fact that the army are right here in the village leads to the suspicion that it was the army that painted the threats rather than the Black Eagles. We then visited the village of Olivares, where the ex-governor Enrique has now received so many threats (including being mentioned in the above threat) he has left the village for fear of his life.
Wednesday we headed to Dagua, an hour from Cali, back in Valle del Cauca, to visit Cais Maloka, a project up in the hills towards the coast. They are linked to Nueva Generacion in London, a Latin American collective working cross-culturally to raise awareness of local issues, stimulate change and promote their culture. In Colombia, they are working on building a collective farm, working with children and young people to become change-makers, and through principles of Participatory Action Research. We paid this beautiful finca a visit, and having heard that the army had stationed themselves illegally in the upper farmhouse, to see what was going on, with a local human rights defender. We found that they'd left, but left behind a "Colombian Army" towel as evidence, along with various bits of litter.
Sitting around an open fire, I watched the cloud-line sink below us. It's so hard to marry the totally tranquil serenity up here with the knowledge of what's going on in this an countless other areas in Colombia. People are afraid to talk to each other about politics, to come to meetings. Meanwhile, the water supply has been privatised and bills push higher and higher. You might understand that when you live in a city of a million, having to pay for water, but when you live surrounded by natural sources of water it really boggles belief. Not only that, but the natural water that there is, is being drained to feed the pine mono-cultures that belong to the shareholders of Smurfitt-Kappa Carton, that Irish company I mentioned. It's here that I see the real effects of capital, punishing a population for daring to try and continue existing.
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