What does 'clean energy' mean for indigenous communities in Mexico's Isthmus of Tehuantepec?

By Miriam Taylor, Witness for Peace Mexico Team

"No to wind farms"
Image credit: Climate Connections

Driving through southern Mexico’s Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the countryside unfolds like a glimpse into the not-so-distant future. Wind turbines turn busily as far as the eye can see, no fossil fuels required. As one of the windiest places in the world, this seems like an ideal way to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and a promising step toward combating climate change. But in the global clamor for access to the burgeoning renewable energy market, winners and losers have already emerged. The local communities of the Isthmus region, largely indigenous, have at best been bribed, coerced, and misled into conceding their land rights to wind farm companies. At worst they have been ignored outright, and the federal and state government have granted land permits without free, prior and informed consent, and communities are fighting back.

Currently, the construction of the projected twenty-eight wind farms in the Isthmus region is half-finished. The construction companies are mostly Spanish: Iberdrola, Acciona, Endesa, Gamesa, and Gas Natural Fenosa, with international investments by corporations ranging from General Electric to Energy France and Mitsubishi. It is estimated that in terms of wind energy, the region has a production capacity of between 5,000 and 10,000 megawatts, which is enough to provide 18 million people with electricity. This energy, however, will not be available for consumption by the people who live in the Isthmus. It is destined for businesses such as FEMSA (a Coca-Cola subsidiary), Wal-Mart, Heineken, CEMEX, and Bimbo.

After the Mexican Revolution in 1917, the land rights of peasants were enshrined in the Constitution under Article 27 through the ejido system of communal land ownership. Although the federal government later instituted programs that would enable communities to privatize their land, the majority have opted not to do so, thus making land permits granted without previous consultation illegal.

In addition to Article 27, the rights of indigenous peoples are further protected by the Constitution through an amendment to Article 2, which states, “This Constitution recognizes and protects the right to self-determination of indigenous people and communities and, consequently, their right to autonomy, so that they may… (V) maintain and improve their habitat and preserve the integrity of their lands…” These protections, however, have proved ineffectual in practice. Pedro López Orozco, member of the Alvaro Obregon’s Peoples Assembly, commented in a recent interview with The Americas Program, “We as indigenous people have seen a high level of corruption in the three levels of government. For the State, the law is dead.”

In addition to communities being left in the dark about projects, additional environmental impact studies are needed to determine what the effects of the wind farms would be on the local population, ecosystems, and water resources. The Isthmus is a migratory bird corridor, and records show a marked increase in bird deaths caused by wind turbines. The turbines also require lubricants and other substances that have made their way into both the sea and fresh water aquifers. Fishermen have noted that fish have begun to leave areas close to the turbines, presumably due to their vibrations. And although research shows that wind farms have little effect on human health in sparsely populated areas, the Isthmus is home to 3.8 million residents, many of whom live within the area affected by the noise pollution generated by the turbines, which has been found to be 4,500 feet upwind and 7,000 feet downwind.

Then comes the issue of payment. The vast majority of the inhabitants of the Isthmus live off subsistence farming and fishing. Renting their land for the construction of wind turbines has the potential to be positive for these communities and could provide sorely needed income in a country where an estimated 75% of indigenous people  live in poverty. Corporations, however, have paid paltry rent sums that are only a fraction of what they would have had to pay in countries such as the U.S. or Denmark. Landholders report payments of 138 Mexican pesos (or US $12) per hectare per year, which is substantially less than they would make selling cow’s milk produced on that same land, for example.

Members of the Popular Assembly of the People of Juchitán provide security for events organizing resistance to wind farms. 

Communities of the Isthmus have resisted continued marginalization since the beginning of this process. In the municipality of Juchitán in 2006, a group of neighbors decided to start a community radio project, Radio Totopo, using very basic equipment that would inform citizens about developments in the wind farm project in their native Zapotec language. In March of last year, Radio Totopo was attacked by state police and hired hitmen and much of its equipment was destroyed. Many of those who run the radio have received death threats or have been physically assaulted by groups they say were hired by the wind farm companies in order to intimidate them.

As a result of the community collaboration in the radio project, the Popular Assembly of the People of Juchitán was formed. For several months members of the assembly took turns manning a physical barricade fashioned out of scrap metal, wood, and tarp that prevented access to the construction zone for a wind farm project planned by Mareña Renewables, a consortium of Dutch, Australian, and Japanese investment interests. The barricade withstood attacks by local, state, and federal police, the army, hired hitmen and paramilitary groups.

Residents physically blocked the entrance to the construction zone for a Mareña Renovables wind farm. The sign reads, "No to wind farm projects in the communal lands of Juchitán!"

On January 1^st of this year, another local municipality, Álvaro Obregón, took things one step further. In the spirit of the 1994 Zapatista uprising in Chiapas, the community’s general assembly invoked the United Nations ILO Convention 169 and the 1996 San Andrés Accords, declaring itself an autonomous municipality. Inhabitants renounced all relationships with the state and federal government and affiliation with all political parties. However, the current mayor of Álvaro Obregón, Saúl Vicente Vázquez, does not recognize the validity of the move and has taken steps to de-legitimize it.

The situation in the Isthmus has many layers, but is quite straightforward. The Mexican government has promoted the growth of alternative energy sources in the country using mechanisms like the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and pro-corporate development projects such as the Mesoamerica Project. Doors were opened to international investors, banks, and multinational corporations, which benefit from the wind farms in myriad ways. Corporations from developed countries can take advantage of the Clean Development Mechanism of the Kyoto Protocol, which enables them to invest in clean energy projects in the developing world and use the carbon credits from the project toward emissions reductions targets. They also collect the profits generated by the project itself. Businesses that consume the electricity can also receive Renewable Energy Certificates (RECs) that they can count toward emissions reductions targets or sell as carbon offsets to other entities.

But the land belongs to the people who have lived, fished, and farmed there for centuries. If they were included in the process with open access to information, were given a fair share of the profits produced by the wind farms, and if corporations could ensure the protection of the environment, the Isthmus has the potential to be a model of the future of renewable energy. Instead it’s become yet another example of neoliberalism disguised as sustainable development, and the people of the Isthmus are committed to stopping it.

"Wind farms yes, but not like this"
Image credit: Asociación Arcera

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Caño Manso Reclaimed its Collective Territory, but Security Concerns Persist

By Austin Robles
WFP Colombia Team

Colombians often refer to their country as one of laws but without law enforcement. For communities engaged in the legal process of land restitution in the areas most plagued by the armed conflict, waiting for the law to be enforced takes years. One community, tired of waiting, decided to nonviolently reclaim part of their territory without aid from the Colombian government.

In memory of Walberto. Caño Manso Humanitarian Zone, exclusive to the civilian population. Protected by provisional measures of  the IACHR (Inter-American Court on Human Rights)

Residents of the Humanitarian Zone of Caño Manso, located along the Curvaradó river basin in Colombia’s northern Chocó province, have been forcibly displaced several times over the past decade, but are finally making strides in regaining access to their ancestral collective territory. Three court rulings recognized their right to land that is illegally occupied by large-scale cattle ranchers and agricultural workers. A June report issued by the Colombian Institute of Rural Development (INCODER) demarcated the territory to which they are entitled (nearly 3,000 acres) and listed the names of each illegal occupier who must vacate the land.

Despite recognizing Caño Manso residents as the rightful owners of the land, these legal entities asked the illegal occupiers to self-vacate and provided no enforcement mechanism or date for their removal. The illegal occupiers refuse to comply with the law and proclaim they will leave when forced to do so. Instead of waiting years hoping for the government to mete out justice, community members decided to reclaim their territory on their own in a simple manner: by extending the fence surrounding their Humanitarian Zone to encompass the occupied land and asking the illegal occupiers to leave. In discussions leading up to their actions, community members repeatedly stated their commitment to acting peacefully and reiterated that if the illegal occupiers acted toward them with violence, they would respond with nonviolence.

Reclaiming the Land

Between July 13th and 16th, 11 Witness for Peace delegates, along with members of partner organizations Peace Brigades International and the Interchurch Commission of Justice and Peace, accompanied Caño Manso’s residents as they nonviolently reclaimed their collective territory.

The Humanitarian Zone encompassed a five-acre plot, and community members decided to increase it to eight by extending the perimeter. One group of residents expanded the barbed-wire fence marking their territory, closing it off to the illegal occupiers. Another group approached to home of the illegal occupiers and requested they leave. Those in the house first declared that they would leave, but later refused to go. Soon after, Colonel Javier Alberto Vallejos Delgado, commander of the Army’s 17th Brigade (responsible for security in the region), spread false reports on the radio. He claimed that Caño Manso, assisted by internationals, was kidnapping people in Curvaradó.

The situation escalated as the administrator of the lands, a few workers, and several unknown people entered the home. Both the Army and the Police, which had promised not to let anyone enter the Humanitarian Zone, let them in. The Army and the Police then promised that it would frisk anyone entering or leaving the Zone, but broke that promise as well, showing no regard for the security of the civilian community members. Another radio transmission hit the airwaves as a local representative (whose legitimacy is under question) told listeners that internationals were facilitating a land grab in Caño Manso.

As the security situation got more intense, we got word that representatives from the Office of the Attorney General planned to come and mediate the dispute. The next morning they arrived in a helicopter and held meetings with community members and the illegal occupiers. They also recognized the community members’ right to the land, pointing to the previous court ruling and the INCODER report, but stopped short of ordering the occupiers to leave. Their presence raised the profile of the community members’ struggle and de-escalated the security risks, but still did not resolve the issue of the occupiers.

On the morning of the 16th, before Witness for Peace was due to leave, community members decided to remove the illegal occupiers’ cattle from their collective territory. The animals, which include hundreds of cows and water buffalo, have trampled and destroyed the community’s food crops, and their massive weight ruins the quality of the arable land. Around 6:00am, we woke up and accompanied community members as they chased the animals off their land.

Setting Regional Precedent

Though the Witness for Peace delegates left, Peace Brigades International and the Interchurch Commission of Justice and Peace are maintaining a permanent presence in Caño Manso to ensure community members do not face repercussions for their actions in the paramilitary-controlled region.

After our departure, we learned that officials from the Ministry of the Interior and the Ministry of Agriculture met with community members and the illegal occupiers and came to several understandings:
1) the community acted within its rights in reclaiming its territory, but agreed not expand further without permission from the government;
2) the Army would maintain a permanent presence around the Zone’s perimeter to guarantee security;
3) the government agreed to name an inspector to handle similar displacement and restitution cases along the Curvaradó and Jiguamiandó River basins.

Caño Manso’s recovery of its ancestral land sets a regional and legal precedent, and its importance can not be stressed enough. Still, several problems persist. The illegal occupiers have not been evicted and reiterated that they would not leave until forced to do so. Community members’ security remains at risk from illegal armed actors. One member of the military, when approached by a community resident about security concerns, stated that the illegal occupiers “won’t kill anyone here; they’ll kill you somewhere else.” Until their security and right to land are guaranteed by the government, residents of Caño Manso Humanitarian Zone remain at risk.

Embattled Honduran Radio Station Reaches First Birthday

“The security forces have the power and the weapons. What do we have? Our voices?” Noelia Nuñez, Honduran human rights lawyer

Today marks the one-year anniversary of La Voz de Zacate Grande, a community-run radio station reporting on a violent land dispute in southern Honduras. The communities of the Peninsula of Zacate Grande have been struggling to obtain legal title to their land for eleven years and the small radio station rests on contested territory.

Changes to agrarian land reform in the 1990s paved the way for wealthy landowner Miguel Facussé to obtain a legal title to all the land on the peninsula. The World Bank and the International Monetary Fund promoted these reforms.

A decree passed under ousted President Manuel Zelaya intended to resolve the land disputes that arose from laws passed during the 1990s. Zacate Grande’s campesino organization, the Development Association of the Zacate Grande Peninsula, known by its Spanish acronym ADEPZA, would have benefited from the decree but states that “the coup d’état paralyzed the process. Facussé increased security on the land and the presence of security guards, police and military has multiplied.”

The decree was annulled by the Supreme Court this past January, affecting thousands of campesinos, including those of Zacate Grande.

Less than two months after the inauguration of La Voz de Zacate Grande, the community reported that the station was surrounded by hundreds of police and military in an attempt to shut it down. Last month the director of the radio, Franklin Melendez, was shot in the leg. Later the same day another community member involved in the radio was reportedly threatened in front of witnesses. The police did not respond in either instance.

Just last week eight community members involved in the land dispute and active with La Voz de Zacate Grande received capture orders for disobedience against the State. Witness for Peace’s International Team spoke with one of the accused, who stated that they are currently in hiding.
Community members involved with the radio station, including youth, have also received threats over the past year, including death threats. The community leader and one of the station founders said that the government has not taken action to ensure their protection. However, they have received support and accompaniment from national and international NGOs such as COFADEH, the True Commission, the Honduras Accompaniment Project, Witness for Peace and Italian solidarity groups.

The landowner in dispute with the communities of Zacate Grande is also in the midst of a conflict in Bajo Aguan, in northern Honduras, which recently became deadly. This week a German development bank pulled a $20 million loan to Facusse for his African palm oil business due their concerns for human rights. Other international financial institutions, including the World Bank, still have investments in the business.

The situation in Zacate Grande illustrates several issues facing civilians throughout Honduras: increased military and police presence, a lack of trust in security forces, threats to journalists and dissidents and the struggle for basic rights. The United States continues to expand funding to the Honduran security forces and push for legitimization of the Honduran government despite the human rights concerns associated with those bodies.

Witness for Peace Nicaragua brought two delegations to Zacate Grande last August and September, meeting with representatives of the radio station. A full report on the delegation’s findings and the history of the struggle in Zacate Grande is forthcoming.