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
Showing posts with label colombia solidarity campaign. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colombia solidarity campaign. Show all posts
Friday, August 7, 2009
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.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Caminando La Palabra (Walking The Word)
On The Bus From Santander de Quilichao, Cauca, Colombia
For the purposes of continuity, I'm writing this on the bus, after Hermanos Lebron, on the way to a UN caucus. Actually I'm in Cali much later on, being far too tired after 4 hours sleep and dancing all night to have written this then. Plus my battery wouldn't last, the damn thing only gives about 40 minutes of charge these days. So since the last post at La Toma we've done a 2-day 40km march with 10,000 people for a Minga, and travelled to Popayan to meet groups there. And danced all night at a Hermanos Lebron gig. A heady mix of party and politics in appropriate proportions.
Walking boots donned, I finally felt glad that I've lugged them 25,000 miles around the hemisphere without having used them for more than a 2-hour hike half-way up the volcano on Ometepe. Packing the essentials - tent, sleeping mat, sleeping bag, mozzie net, spare clothes - I thought I had a light pack... it started to bite after an hour. Probably a bit unfit too...
So being a little late for the start of the march from Santander de Quilichao, we jumped on the roof of a Chiva (eye-spy's book of modes of transport was filling up with ticks). We waited for the bus to fill up - I have never yet in 10 months in Latin America seen a bus leave before its full. After what couldn't have been more than 5 minutes on the road through town, the driver pulled into a layby in front of a restaurant. And got out, and sat down, and ordered his dinner. No-one complained, or said anything to the driver, just patiently waited. This seems to be a distinctly Latin trait - tolerance. It's interesting how this translates into a history of dictatorships. You can also see the effect on kids, who seem far more well behaved despite a more lax disciplinary attitude.
colombia solidarity campaign secretary andy higginbottom interviewed by caracol tv
Along the way I met Aida Quilcue who until recently was leader of the Cauca Regional Indigenous Council (CRIC). Last December, her husband was murdered in an attack seemingly meant for her. On 11th May this year, her 12 year old daughter was leaving her house when she saw men pointing handguns at her from a car parked outside. She fled back into the house, while they drove around the house until they realised she was there protected by Indigenous guards. Aida was due to come to the UK to speak in June, but had to cancel. She is due to come in September - watch this space.
We also met with Feliciano, a spokesperson for the Minga, indigenous to the Cauca. He spoke something that touched me very deeply, through a concept I admire and respect. He spoke of the liberation of mother earth, with it concepts of the importance of living in harmony with nature rather than tearing it up. He spoke of the evolution of the politics of the indigneous, as seeing a marked turning point with the 1991 Colombian Constitution, from a politics of protest to proposals through protest, from reaction to proaction. And in 2005 the campaign for the liberation of mother earth began - taking, protecting and liberating "tierra" - the earth, the ground, the soil. Francisco, from a human rights NGO Asociacion Minga, spoke about how in this area there is a permanent war between public forces and the people that has been totally invisibilised.
After staying the night, we were up and ready to smack pavement with our boots by 6am. Another 20-odd km, and we made it to Corintho, making 40km in total. Phew. Here, everyone gathered in the town square, and listened to brief speeches of all the indigenous governors from the local area. Together at the end they made a joint statement, supporting the Minga and its continuance, denouncing local acts of violence against the communities, and refusing to enter into new agreements with the government until previous agreements to protect the population are fulfilled.
On Saturday we made for Popayan, a historical colonial centre about 3 hours south of Cali. Here we met with two groups, one with the Minga, and another that exists parallel but outside of the Minga. The first was CIMA, a local group in the National Agrarian Association (CNA). Here we heard a round of presentations of local represenatives about their local issues. He heard about 4 people killed in a massacre in Peregosa in 2000, and 10 campesinos killed in January 2001, both as revenge attacks for mobilisations in 1999. Paramilitaries give out pamphlets with threats in the area. In August 2007, Smurfit-Kappa Carton de Colombia (who on their own website claim to be advancing their most "aggresive and important expansion in their history"), an Irish-based multinational, bought up huge areas of land, in some cases forcing the sale, for monoculture exotic pine forest plantations.
The local soft drinks group Postobon, in negotiations with the government, recently acquired the rights "to protect" two local lakes, the Lagunas de Magdalena and Cauca. Funny that, a soft-drinks company with a line in environmental protection of water sources. Doesn't quite seem to add up to me.
We also talked about the changes of land use over the last 15-20 years. Back then, the area produced 7,000 tonnes of food, and was almost self-sufficient. Now, that has reduced to 1,500 tonnes, and today the area imports 7,000 tonnes of food from abroad. Seems totally crazy, doesn't it, that an area so rich and fertile has to truck, ship or fly food from other parts of the world to feed it. But that's the story of Colombia, a country that imports thousands tonnes of rice from the United States!
Later we met with the Process of Popular Unity of South West Cauca (PUPSOC). They describe their work as parallel to the Minga, and in concert to it. However, they are critical of the Minga's involvement with the Peace Laboratories of Europe, formed in the Cartagena-London agreement of 2002. Effectively, state funding to construct peace, which involves a certain doublethink given the amount of European capital being pumped into Colombia, which must be seen as intrinsically linked. Especially when the third component to the Peace Laboratories is to strengthen productive industry. This article by Gearoid O'Loingsigh looks into this in detail.
We talked about local issues. In the 3 communities of Mariel, San Sebastian and La Vega, described as the crown of the Colombian Massif, Kedahda (a subsidiary of AngloGold Ashanti) have mining concessions for 3,600 hectares. This follows exploration in the 1980s by Japan International. This is described as Phase 2 of Plan Colombia: the social phase. In Valencia, a community of 800 inhabitants, there are 1600 soldiers stationed. Other local issues revolve around water - "the eyes of the future" - and the importance of defending local supplies against privatisation.
Phew. After all that, catching my eye on a poster advertising Cuban salsa band Hermanos Lebron made me very excited, having listened to them heavily on the road trip through Mexico. They were playing that night in Santander. Phil, a English guy working with groups here, and I bought ourselves a bottle of rum and hotfooted it on the 2-hour bus trip. £2 to enter, we met up with our dance partners and salsad the night away - no way to learn like in the field! The only dark spot came later on, danced out, moving to get some food, when suddenly I realised that the lush Digital SLR camera that I'd borrowed was suddenly not in the case anymore. Ouch.
Friday, July 17, 2009
In At The Deep End
Bogota, Colombia
At last. It's finally time to get stuck into what actually motivated the whole trip in the first place for me, and began planning in 2006: spending some time on the ground in Colombia. After 4 years of solidarity work UK-side with only a 2-week whistlestop delegation to Colombian universities in 2005, I wanted to spend some time here and really feel what I was working for and with. And to question what I was doing the solidarity work for, when there's a million useful things in the world to get involved with, and particularly when local activism seems far more important and necessary. After that time in Panama, I had actually almost given up on Colombia. It seemed like things just weren't moving that way for me, as I'd intended to spend a few months here.
Well, my timing in the end was synchronous with a 3-week human rights commission from the Colombia Solidarity Campaign in the UK, that started today. Plus, something to keep me busy and my mind off other complicated and painful personal matters. It all added up to be a go-er: having been in Venezuela reminded me of the urgent need for real information from the bottom up in a world saturated by reactionary corporate news that protects vested interests and the status quo, and got me fired up again.
I heard an analogy a while ago of the role of international solidarity work that I'm particularly fond of. It's easy to dismiss any kind of political work as a drop in the ocean and thus futile - but to me this sounds like the voice of aging armchair cynics. There's 3 angles - the first 2 involve the same metaphor of building a window. First, solidarity work builds a window for the outside world, the international community as individuals, organisations and movements, to see the reality of what is happening mediated through an independent perspective without corporate funded media interests that frame the perspective their own way.
Second, the window thus constructed allows those inside to see the outside watching - the reflex to the above point. This point is fundamental - to provide solidarity is to say we are here with you in your struggle against violence and dispossession of your ancestral lands, both literally for a short period of time in person, but also in contact permanently and able to denounce acts of violence and intimidation internationally. It is this brotherly/sisterly demonstration of solidarity and human unity with people on the ground living in and organising & defending against the various instruments of the state, parastate and global oligarchy that is immensely powerful at countering the various mechanisms of divide and rule.
Third is putting pressure on the state to live up to its obligations under international human rights conventions and treaties it has signed up to. Under international law, it is the state that is responsible for "granting" these rights to its citizens - or at least defending them. Irony notwithstanding, human rights are nonetheless an instrument and point of reference to try to hold the state to account for its actions, or inactions. So, whilst the window metaphor is a little de-personalised and sealed-off, I think it's a good starting point to try and understand the role of international solidarity in supporting struggles against the common and diverse enemy - capital and its hoarders. I suppose my own fourth point is to build lasting friendships through interaction and cultural exchange.
Today was the first day of action, with meetings from 9-7. Nothing like being in at the deep end after a year of no meetings... The main order of the day was the first of a 3-day workshop entitled "The political conception of the struggle for the earth and territory, and scenarios, and tools for action". The day brought together a range of social movements from across the country, including the Process of Black Communities (PCN), the National Agrarian Association (CNA), and the Cauca Indigenous Commitee (CRIC), given as examples of how this workshop included Afro, campesino and indigenous movements, as well as academic involvement.
The ideological landscape was laid in a talk entitled "Dispossesion, Violence and Economy", coming from the idea of accumulation by dispossession, using a theory of "plunder" / ejection where resources are liberated at zero cost through the economic model / system. 2428 people in Colombia own 44 million hectares - that's 53.5% of the land in a country of 40 million people - which is an average of 18,000 Hectares per person. The next talk explained how the Spanish colonial mentality of administrate, control and dominate has never really ended, through a detailed analysis of the concept of territory.
And I've started coming down with manflu. Excellent, when listening to hours of Spanish - and taking notes - isn't hard enough to concentrate on, my body throws this into the mix as well. Nothing like a challenge though, eh? In at the deep end, adelante.
At last. It's finally time to get stuck into what actually motivated the whole trip in the first place for me, and began planning in 2006: spending some time on the ground in Colombia. After 4 years of solidarity work UK-side with only a 2-week whistlestop delegation to Colombian universities in 2005, I wanted to spend some time here and really feel what I was working for and with. And to question what I was doing the solidarity work for, when there's a million useful things in the world to get involved with, and particularly when local activism seems far more important and necessary. After that time in Panama, I had actually almost given up on Colombia. It seemed like things just weren't moving that way for me, as I'd intended to spend a few months here.
Well, my timing in the end was synchronous with a 3-week human rights commission from the Colombia Solidarity Campaign in the UK, that started today. Plus, something to keep me busy and my mind off other complicated and painful personal matters. It all added up to be a go-er: having been in Venezuela reminded me of the urgent need for real information from the bottom up in a world saturated by reactionary corporate news that protects vested interests and the status quo, and got me fired up again.
I heard an analogy a while ago of the role of international solidarity work that I'm particularly fond of. It's easy to dismiss any kind of political work as a drop in the ocean and thus futile - but to me this sounds like the voice of aging armchair cynics. There's 3 angles - the first 2 involve the same metaphor of building a window. First, solidarity work builds a window for the outside world, the international community as individuals, organisations and movements, to see the reality of what is happening mediated through an independent perspective without corporate funded media interests that frame the perspective their own way.
Second, the window thus constructed allows those inside to see the outside watching - the reflex to the above point. This point is fundamental - to provide solidarity is to say we are here with you in your struggle against violence and dispossession of your ancestral lands, both literally for a short period of time in person, but also in contact permanently and able to denounce acts of violence and intimidation internationally. It is this brotherly/sisterly demonstration of solidarity and human unity with people on the ground living in and organising & defending against the various instruments of the state, parastate and global oligarchy that is immensely powerful at countering the various mechanisms of divide and rule.
Third is putting pressure on the state to live up to its obligations under international human rights conventions and treaties it has signed up to. Under international law, it is the state that is responsible for "granting" these rights to its citizens - or at least defending them. Irony notwithstanding, human rights are nonetheless an instrument and point of reference to try to hold the state to account for its actions, or inactions. So, whilst the window metaphor is a little de-personalised and sealed-off, I think it's a good starting point to try and understand the role of international solidarity in supporting struggles against the common and diverse enemy - capital and its hoarders. I suppose my own fourth point is to build lasting friendships through interaction and cultural exchange.
Today was the first day of action, with meetings from 9-7. Nothing like being in at the deep end after a year of no meetings... The main order of the day was the first of a 3-day workshop entitled "The political conception of the struggle for the earth and territory, and scenarios, and tools for action". The day brought together a range of social movements from across the country, including the Process of Black Communities (PCN), the National Agrarian Association (CNA), and the Cauca Indigenous Commitee (CRIC), given as examples of how this workshop included Afro, campesino and indigenous movements, as well as academic involvement.
The ideological landscape was laid in a talk entitled "Dispossesion, Violence and Economy", coming from the idea of accumulation by dispossession, using a theory of "plunder" / ejection where resources are liberated at zero cost through the economic model / system. 2428 people in Colombia own 44 million hectares - that's 53.5% of the land in a country of 40 million people - which is an average of 18,000 Hectares per person. The next talk explained how the Spanish colonial mentality of administrate, control and dominate has never really ended, through a detailed analysis of the concept of territory.
And I've started coming down with manflu. Excellent, when listening to hours of Spanish - and taking notes - isn't hard enough to concentrate on, my body throws this into the mix as well. Nothing like a challenge though, eh? In at the deep end, adelante.
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