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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The Human Face (and Price) of Trade

The Witness blog series is back!

This month, Witness for Peace, in close collaboration with coalition partners in the United States and partners on the ground in Colombia, Nicaragua, Honduras and Mexico, is hosting our second annual blog series – this one focused on the changing system of international trade and its effects on communities both small and large.

When most people hear the word “trade,” their eyes already start to glaze over, visions of tariffs and collective bargaining agreements dancing in their hands. This is understandable – at first, trade doesn’t exactly seem like the most exciting topic, tied up as it is with broader issues of economics, national sovereignty, imports/exports and labor rights. However, trade has implications that reach far beyond the entrances to ports and meeting halls – really, if you’ve ever bought anything or had a job, trade has affected you in some way. Over the course of the next month, we’ll be using this space on the Witness blog to explore the many ways trade changes lives, livelihoods and environments, from small-scale farmers in the U.S. Midwest to port workers in the Colombian city of Buenaventura.

The topics of free trade, unions, workers’ rights and economic policy have become increasingly important throughout the Americas since the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) went into effect in 1994, creating a trade bloc between the U.S., Canada and Mexico, and opening the door for subsequent economic policies and practices that prioritized corporations and multinational companies over unions and workers themselves. Since then, such agreements have spread across the region, with the U.S. signing free trade accords with countries including Chile, Peru, Colombia and the majority of Central America.

Though supporters in governments and the business world insist that such agreements help boost competition and encourage sales, the truth is that the few individuals and corporations at the top are those that truly profit, while laborers, farmers and small businesses see few of the benefits and are often left worse off than they were before the agreement took effect. Such agreements lead to lower prices on imported goods that  leave local businesses unable to compete without incurring significant losses; allow much greater influence for multinational corporations; facilitate widespread third-party contracting; and encourage extensive outsourcing in a "race to the bottom." These effects are well-documented, and some communities are refusing to simply accept them as inevitable. Last August, Colombia’s farmers began a national strike that quickly spread across the country and reached the largest cities, primarily as a response to the negative effects the U.S.-Colombia free trade agreement, signed in 2011, had on their communities and their livelihoods.

Well-researched critiques and comprehensive analyses of such agreements are now more important than ever, with the U.S. on the verge of signing the Trans-Pacific Partnership, which would become the most far-reaching trade agreement in the hemisphere and grant a staggering amount of rights and privileges to corporations and business interests, potentially even overriding national sovereignty and laws in some cases. Through this blog series, we will examine the effects and lessons learned from current trade agreements and labor practices throughout the Americas, and hope to shed some light on the potential regional and global impact of the TPP as well as bring more attention to what’s happening in our own backyards and in thousands of other cities and towns across the continents.

Check back here every weekday for bilingual posts highlighting some of the effects free trade agreements and changes in trade and labor policy have had on individuals and communities throughout the Americas, and how some of our writers have seen those changes reflected in their own lives and the lives of others. Feel free to take a look at our 2013 Drug War blog series as well.

December 1: Mexican Presidential Power Transitions from one Human Rights Violator to the Next

by Carlin Christy, Mexico Team

Felipe Calderón and Enrique Peña Nieto. Photo from lamendigapolitica.com

This December 1^st, it might have been possible for Mexicans to breathe a collective sigh of relief. The day will mark the official end of President Felipe Calderón’s 6 year term. His presidency is commonly referred to as “el sexenio de la muerte” or ‘the six year term of death,’ given the murders of around 80,000 people which began after Calderón launched a militarized war on drugs shortly after taking office in late 2006.  However, a respite from the massacres, kidnappings, disappearances, and human rights abuses does not seem to be on the horizon, as the presidential power will transition to Enrique Peña Nieto, a member of Mexico’s Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) which ruled Mexico for 71 consecutive years until the year 2000. 

Peña Nieto comes into office under questionable election results and with an already tarnished human rights record from his time as governor of the State of Mexico from 2005-2011. Certain actions he has taken since winning the July election also seem to indicate he won’t stray too far from the course of Calderón, or Mexico’s financial and strategic partner in the war, the U.S. government and military contractors. 

Although he has stated he will no longer seek to confront cartels head on by taking out capo leaders, Peña Nieto plans to create, strengthen, and professionalize a unified 40,000 strong police force, continue the use of the army until no longer necessary, and expand prisons. He will continue to cooperate strategically with the U.S. and just this week met with President Obama to discuss the continued economic and security integration of Mexico and the U.S.   

Considering Peña Nieto will not drastically alter the approach to fighting organized criminal groups, it is worth looking at the impact this militarized drug war has had on Mexican society under Calderón, with support from the U.S’s Mérida Initiative.

Statistics from Mexico’s National Human Rights Commission (CNDH) recently shared in a meeting with the Senate’s Human Rights Commission paint a dismal picture. The CNDH cited information compiled from January 1, 2005 to July 31, 2012. Five out of the seven and a half years were under Calderón’s administration. 

CNDH data reveals:

·         Cases of torture have increased 500% (In 2005 only 1 torture complaint was received, compared to over 2,000 complaints of torture and cruel treatment in 2011)

·         9000+ complaints of arbitrary detentions, which demonstrates that this is a recurring practice utilized by security forces. Arbitrary detentions increased 121% during this time period.

·         5,568 complaints were received about officials failing to follow required procedures in issuing or executing search warrants

·         2,126 cases of forced disappearances are under investigation and in general, forced disappearances saw massive increases

·         24,091 people are reported as missing

·         46,015 documented murders

·         15,921 bodies remain unidentified

·         1,421 bodies were found in mass graves

·         34,385 complaints against federal security forces were received by the CNDH. (An increase of 84% in the last three years.) Complaints mainly centered around illegal searches, forced disappearances, arbitrary detentions, extrajudicial executions, and torture.

 For me, you were “The Employment President.” 

(image taken from Mexicambio on Facebook)

In addition to data from the National Human Rights Commission, a recent national survey on the perception of citizen security indicated that 55% of Mexicans believe Calderon’s strategy to fight organized crime “was unsuccessful”. Eighty percent indicated that insecurity was worse this year than in 2011. Just 31% of those surveyed were in agreement of the use of military operatives to combat organized crime- a ten percent drop from the start of Calderón’s presidency. 

Yet behind all of the data, statistics and numbers are stories of mothers searching for their disappeared children, families mourning their murdered loved ones, communities fighting to demand justice for crimes committed by security forces. Mexico’s social fabric has been torn apart over the last six years. The pain and suffering of people like Maria Trujillo Herrera, who has four disappeared sons, is indescribable. Yet she and many other victims continue to speak out, at the risk of their own lives, against the absurdity of fighting a war on drugs. 

Another woman who speaks out against the violence and impunity endemic to the Mexican state is Paty Torres. She is among the 26 women who were arrested, tortured, and sexually abused during the violent police repression of the town San Salvador Atenco in 2006.

Paty Torres, survivor of sexual assault by Mexican Police forces in 2006.

Photo by: Liliana Zaragoza Cano  courtesy of website: http://miradasostenida.net/ 

In 2001, the community located in the State of Mexico was the site of protest by a group of farmers opposed to the expropriation of their land to construct an international airport.  Opposition to the plan was so strong it was cancelled. When a conflict broke out over a highway blockade in May 2006, the state government, some say seeking revenge for the 2001 protests, responded by sending in thousands of federal police, armed with firearms and teargas.

Over two hundreds civilians, including members of the campesino group and their supporters, were arbitrarily detained and brutally beaten. Two young people were killed and women in particular were subjected to verbal and psychological abuse as well as sexual torture.  Several detainees remained imprisoned up to four years after the attack. 

The operation in Atenco, characterized by human rights groups as the ”excessive and indiscriminate use of force” occurred under Enrique Peña Nieto as governor. To date, no state or federal police officer or official involved in the attack has been brought to justice, despite a recommendation from The United Nations Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) to investigate and bring to trial those responsible. 

Twelve of the 26 women, including Paty Torres, have brought their case to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, after failing to receive justice in the Mexican judicial system.

The Atenco case represents the flagrant abuse of human rights, criminalization of social protest, and total impunity authorized and employed by Peña Nieto while governor. Give this history, many civil society groups, activists, and human rights organizations believe the landscape for human rights in the next Presidential administration looks bleak.

The naming of Colombian General Oscar Naranjo as his top security advisor is further cause for concern. Gen. Naranjo is the former head of the Colombian National Police, and is seen as a key figure in the dismantling of Colombia’s major drug cartels.  However, Naranjo is accused of using back room dealings, favoring certain cartels over others, and utilizing corrupt DEA and U.S. Customs officials to achieve his aims.  In addition, the naming of Naranjo signifies Peña Nieto will be favorable to the U.S.’s agenda of military intervention into Latin America as a whole.

This December 1^st, instead of exhaling a sigh of relief that should have come after six years of unimaginable violence and insecurity, Mexican citizens may have to inhale even deeper, in order to face the next six years. Or instead, they can do as so many have done throughout the country’s history—organize, resist, and struggle against the powers that for so long have marginalized and repressed those who dare to demand justice and equality in Mexico.