Nimbyism and Colombia’s “Socially Responsible” Mine, Cerrejón

By Jeanine Legato
WfP Colombia

Southeastern Massachusetts, where I am from, was deeply embroiled in a nimby (Not-In- My- Backyard)  debate in 2008 about the proposed construction of Cape Wind, an offshore wind farm in Nantucket sound.  The debate lasted years and only recently passed its final regulatory obstacle of approval by the Federal Aviation Association.  In the meantime, it has dominated local airwaves, newspapers, and public discussion, and called the attention of just about every important national news outlet. The innocuous “How ‘bout them Red Sox” conversation in Massachusetts shifted for a long time to, “How ‘bout that wind farm?” Critics of the farm, bent on saving the view sheds of their waterfront homes have lost out over time to the proposal’s proponents, who fought for the environmental, economic and energy security benefits of renewable energy.

Yesterday, in the Wayuu Indigenous Reservation of Provincial located in the northern Colombia province of La Guajira, I witnessed another nimby scenario play out, albeit colored by much different circumstances, none so privileged as a debate over the Kennedy’s vacation home, and certainly not as well covered by the media.

Culminating a five day expedition along the banks of the Rancheria River to document its degradation since the arrival of coal-giant Cerrejón (BHP Biliton, Xstrata, Anglo American), and to call for the defense of the same ecosystem before the mine’s proposed 26 kilometer detouring of the river to mine the high quality coal beneath, communities called a press conference in Provincial and asked, “why is our resistance ignored in the media?”

The answer: Cerrejón, whose slogan is “Mining Responsibly”, dominates the press-beat in La Guajira with its multi-million investment in communications.  Furthermore, while the Cape Wind project was stalled by years’ long debate and strict environmental regulations, Cerrejón has been subjected to neither by the Colombian press or government.  President Juan Manuel Santos promotes deregulated mining and foreign investment to make extractive resources the “economic engine” for the country.

To the 150 participants on a five day excursion for the defense of the Rancheria River, comprised of Guajiran community members, and national and international NGO representatives, the economic myth was manifest.  La Guajira is Colombia’s poorest province, 34 years after Cerrejón’s arrival.  In visiting three of the dozens of communities displaced by Cerrejón, the mine’s claim to social responsibility was questionable at best.

In Patilla, multiple families remain in the dust-polluted town in the shadow of a massive mountain made of mining waste.  Cerrejón claims that Patilla is its most successful relocation case, boasting a video on its website of an inaugural party at “New” Patilla, the urban resettlement where Patilla residents were relocated.  Not featured in the video are the dozens of families that Cerrejón did not relocate on grounds that they were Patilla natives, but not residents.   As a result of the job precariousness that the mine imposed on the once agricultural economy, many Patilla natives moved part-time into town to find work or facilitate easier commutes to their kids’ schools.  Cerrejón refuses to compensate them for their homes or include them in rights to relocation.  To pressure the “resisters” to sell, Cerrejón has cut off their electricity for weeks at a time and been late in sending potable water supply to the community (the Rancheria River, once suitable for human consumption, cannot be used even for cattle due to mining pollutant content).

Further down the road, eight families remain in Roche, once the area’s densely populated social capital.  In its rush to relocate residents to New Roche, Cerrejón fueled disputes in the community, offering financial rewards for the families who were willing to leave Roche the quickest and delegitimizing the community leaders who advocated for resistance or slower-paced negotiations.  In April 2012, Cerrejón filed for the Colombian State to expropriate the remaining Roche families, a process that may occur in early October without Cerrejón having made a good-faith effort to work through tenuous points in the negotiation.

Three Inhabitants of Roche are unable to span the circumference of a Caracoli tree found along the Rancheria’s river banks.  Cerrejon’s expansion threatens the over two-hundred- year presence of local Afro Colombian communities as well as ancient flora and fauna.

As a Wayuu Indigenous community, Provincial strongly opposes the rerouting of the Rancheria River. They have begun an internal reflection process to preclude the prior consultation process that Cerrejón, required by ILO 169 and Colombian law, would have to carry out before exploring the project.  Cerrejón president Roberto Junguito told local press that an expansion project indicating the detouring of the Rancheria hasn’t been officially presented, making the communities’ call for debate and consultation on the topic an unnecessary controversy.    

Children in the Provincial Reservation perform a traditional Wayuu dance representing an edible cactus flower found in their territory.

However, according to independent news outlet La Silla Vacia, the Ministry of the Interior- the entity responsible for oversight of prior consultation- confirmed that Cerrejón solicited the formal initiation of the prior consultation process on November 29, 2010 and December 7, 2010. Prior consultation is not to be confused with prior consent; Cerrejón has been widely criticized by communities and NGOs alike for misrepresenting information regarding damages in the consultation process and, as with the case of the Rancheria River, not consulting with communities before advancing legal exploration processes with the Colombian government.  

The collective experience of just these few communities is enough to give legitimate claim to their campaign’s simple slogan, “Cerrejón lies.”

 Bathing in the Rancheria, running my hands along the riverbed and turning up baseball-size pieces of coal, I had to agree.  Walking through the woods and finding half- hidden pipes that spew black coal processing water into the river, I had to agree.  Cerrejon’s ridiculous claim that rerouting the river would not cause further harm to communities is a shameless lie, or, at best, a deranged dismissal of the dizzying damage this mine has already caused to suffering communities over the course of three decades.

150 delegates representing local, national, and international communities traversed the Rancheria River over five days to document the environmental characteristics of Guajira’s most important water source.

This is a case of nimbyism where there is no possible benefit to the locals.  100% of Cerrejón coal is exported, including to the U.S market.  What Guajirans stand to lose from the rerouting of the Rancheria River is not just a view, but the last vital life source sustaining them in the face of forced displacement.      

Join the Witness for Peace Colombia team in their current investigative project to find out where Cerrejón coal is being imported to in the U.S.  Write colombia@witnessforpeace.org to get involved.

Gold Rush in Colombia: Part 2

by Amanda Tello

The lure of profits has attracted the attention of more than just the state and multinational corporations (MNCs) to the mining industry. The FARC guerrillas and paramilitary successor groups have assumed greater roles in Colombia’s unlicensed mining sector in recent years. The police estimate that these groups “extort from or have direct control over mines in 489 out of Colombia’s 1,119 municipalities.” Armed groups engage in unlicensed mining in many different ways, making it difficult for the government to formulate a cohesive response. According to an Insight report, guerrillas in Antioquia charge a tax on mining equipment that enters their territory (3 million pesos, or $1,600) in addition to a monthly maintenance tax (1 million pesos, or $530). If miners do not comply with the guerrillas’ mandates, their equipment is destroyed. In other cases, guerrillas and paramilitaries control mine production and tax the amount of gold produced by each miner. Many analysts believe that armed actors turned to gold mining as an additional source of revenue as pressure on coca cultivation and trafficking increased.

New York Times

In addition to security concerns, artisanal mining is also viewed as a source of environmental degradation. Colombia has the highest rate of mercury pollution in the world and other harmful chemicals like cyanide are often used in small-scale mining operations, polluting nearby bodies of water and seeping into the ground. Although the detrimental effects of artisanal mining are real and worrisome, the pollution caused by large-scale, industrial mining is far greater and more harmful. The Cerrejón mine in La Guajira, for example, has “polluted rivers, caused lung diseases, made land fallow and displaced communities.” Moreover, local campaigns have been launched to teach artisanal miners how to mine sustainably.

The Government’s Problematic Response
       
In response to the environmental and security threats posed by unlicensed mining operations, the government has begun shutting down mines it defines as “illegal.” In the first four months of 2011, “military and police closed 121 mines and arrested over 600 people.”  Concerned with potential investors, the Santos administration has also created a prosecutor’s office for environmental crime composed of 22 attorneys specializing in environmental law. The exact legal ramifications of this office are yet to be determined but it will “reportedly prioritize investigations related to environmental contamination, invasive use of protected land, and unlicensed exploitation of resources.”
   

Colombia Reports

The government claims to be cracking down on “illegal” mining in part because it is a security threat. However, Peace Brigades International points out that the “government does not differentiate between illegal mining and informal mining (mining without a license) and in fact equates informal artisanal mining with illegal mining allied with the guerrilla in order to justify the militarization of mining areas.” A report from the Consultancy on Human Rights and Displacement (CODHES) argues that the large U.S.-backed military and paramilitary presence in mining zones is intended to “protect private investment” and “suppress social protest” through violence and displacement. These actions further propagate the notion that unlicensed, artisanal mining is both dangerous and illegal. Recently, Colombia’s Mining and Energy Minister, Mauricio Cardenas, even went so far as to declare that, “police should destroy the machinery confiscated from unlicensed mines, in the same way that police destroy cocaine laboratories.” Although the government insists that its goal is to work in collaboration with local communities and small-scale miners, both its mining laws and representatives continue to discredit the people it claims to represent.

Resistance

Artisanal miners who lack legal paperwork assert that the government is trying to undermine their traditional sources of livelihood and displace them from their land so multinational corporations can operate. Additionally, unlicensed miners insist that they are being unfairly targeted by the government given the fact that, “extortion is a widespread phenomenon that also affects licensed companies and their contractors.”

Protest against mining in Cajamarca – Colombia Reports

In response, local communities of small-scale miners are uniting in order to challenge the government’s biased support of MNCs at the expense of their land and livelihoods. Coalitions of miners, campesinos, environmentalists, social organizations and lawyers have been organizing throughout Colombia. For example, community members and miners established a Family Farmer Reserve Zone in Guamocó, a legal entity that enables “small-scale farming and mining communities to establish territorial boundaries,” support local enterprises, obtain legal land titles and protect the environment. Participants hope to replace old models of development that promote the “indiscriminate pillaging of resources” and create alternative models for sustainable, local development. In other regions, grassroots organizations are mounting educational campaigns to teach artisanal mining communities sustainable mining practices and to raise awareness nation-wide about the destructive environmental and social impacts of large-scale mining operations.

To learn more about mining and Colombia’s “gold rush,” consider watching a video from PBS and/or Al Jazeera.

Watch a music video from Afro-Colombian group, ChocQuibTown, entitled “Oro,” or “Gold."

Special thanks to Peace Brigades International for their research on this topic.

The Human Face of Coal

Jairo Fuentes Epaiyu poses in front of the Salem Harbor Station,
which burns coal from Colombia.

Check out this recent column from Lynn Nadeau in Marblehead, MA. She's been hosting Jairo Fuentes Epaiyu, a Colombian man from a coal mining community called Tomaquito, during his speaking tour "to tell us — the people who use the coal buried beneath his village — about how his ancestral home has been destroyed by the owners of the largest open-pit coal mine in the world."

The column states that:

"The removal of topsoil and enormous excavations deep into the earth have destroyed the land and rivers on which [Jairo's community] farmed and fished for generations. The mining operation polluted their water and made the villagers’ life unsustainable. There is coal dust everywhere, especially in their lungs. Before the mine was built, Jairo and his neighbors in Tamaquito depended on the nearby village of Tabaco for services such as health care, schooling and mail delivery. Then, tragically, the multinational corporation took over the mine and bulldozed Tabaco, scattering its inhabitants in diaspora. Now Jairo’s villagers must travel great distances for these vital services and connection to the outside world. Their simple dwellings form a small island in a wasteland. Their social fabric has been ripped apart; their livelihood has disappeared."

This July, Witness for Peace is organizing a delegation to two regions devastated by coal mining: one in Appalachia and one in northern Colombia near Jairo's hometown.

For information about joining the "Behind the Coal" delegation please click here.