Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Reflections on Rigores: Evictions in Honduras

By WFP Nicaragua Team

Last June, Honduran police forcibly evicted over 100 families from their homes in the community of Rigores. Not only were they evicted, but their homes, schools and churches were burned and bulldozed. Families did not have time to recover many of their belongings. Documentarian Jesse Freeston captured footage of the violent eviction and the aftermath.

This past February we met with families who had lost their homes several months ago in that incident. In front of the half-constructed school, I spoke with Maritza, pictured right. While progress is slow, Maritza showed me the reconstruction efforts of a school that was destroyed in the eviction. The home she had lived in with her family for 11 years had also been burned down last June.

Rigores remains in a precarious position. Residents still do not have a resolution regarding the titles of their land and have continued to face repression. Another resident of Rigores, Rosa Santa Maria, stated, “[The government] shouldn’t treat campesino groups like this. We need them to listen to us, not for them to see us like worthless objects.”

She went on to say, “The Honduran police are corrupt…They have treated us campesino groups very badly. We have been their victims. We have been psychologically and physically abused by them. We have been destroyed.”

In another reported event, a 16 year old boy was detained last September by Honduran military and tortured. Community members recounted that security forces covered the boy in gasoline as if they were going to burn him alive, but spared his life.

Reporting on these events has proved deadly to Honduran journalists. Nahum Palacios, originally from the community of Rigores, was assassinated in March 2010. When we heard testimony from his father, Eriberto Palacios, he reported that there has been almost no progress on the investigation into his son’s murder. Palacios stated, “In Honduras there is no justice for the poor.”

The U.S. funding of Honduran military and police is not the answer to quell the violence, rather human rights defenders in Honduras see it as fueling it. In a recent op-ed in the San Francisco Chronicle, Adrienne Pine, an anthropology professor at American University writes, “Hondurans do not need more militarization; they need justice.”

And as Rosa Santa Maria stated, “We don’t want more conflicts. We have suffered enough.”

Monday, March 5, 2012

Faces of Struggle and Resilience

By the WFP Nicaragua International Team

A couple weeks ago, we visited several communities in the Bajo Aguan. We heard stories of their struggles for dignified homes and food sovereignty. The slide show below includes pictures from these visits. Please click each photo to see text that provides background on the situation in the Bajo Aguan. For further reading, click here for a detailed report from an international fact finding mission published last year. Photo captions can be found below.



Captions:

Photo 1: Memorial for Martyrs
A young boy sits in front of the memorial for martyrs at International Human Rights Conference in Solidarity with the Bajo Aguan. At least 45 campesinos have been killed in the Bajo Aguan since the coup détat in 2009. (Photo credit: Lucy Edwards)

Photo 2: International Human Rights Conference in Solidarity with the Bajo Aguan
From February 17-19, 2012 over 1,000 participants from around the world gathered to stand in solidarity with the people of the Aguan Valley and hear testimonies. The massive event was coordinated in part by OFRANEH (Organización Fraternal Negra Hondureña) and COPINH (The Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras).
(Left: Miriam Miranda, OFRANEH, Right: Berta Caceres, COPINH).

Photo 3: Garifuna Ceremony
Afro-indigenous Hondurans pay homage to the assassinated campesinos of the Bajo Aguan through a ceremony including song. Members of Garifuna communities gather to enter the auditorium. (Photo credit: Lucy Edwards)

Photo 4: Camille Chambers
Haitian grassroots leader, Camille Chambers, spoke about the ties between the struggles in Haiti and Honduras. He warned of the danger of the international community and media calling Honduras a "failed state." Chambers argued that like in Haiti, it gives international actors justification to swoop in to "stabilize" the country with military forces.

Photo 5: Aguan River
The Aguan river divides two parts of the valley. Campesinos on both sides are seeking legal titles of land that was illegally sold or sold under intimidation. Honduran agrarian laws changed in the early 1990s to comply with structural adjustment programs promoted by international financial institutions such as the IMF. The new laws fostered privatization and paved the way for large business owners to divide cooperatively owned lands.

Photo 6: African Palm
African palms take up large swaths of land in the Aguan Valley. There are 120,000 hectares of African Palm growing in Honduras. Much of this land is owned by a handful of large businesses. 70% of the palm oil produced is for export.
An estimated 200,000 campesino families in Honduras or 44% of the rural population. do not have access (or inadequate access) to land.

Photo 7: Military Checkpoint
After the 2009 the Bajo Aguan has become increasingly militarized. This soldier stands at one checkpoint between Tocoa and the community of Rigores. Community members reported that military presence diminished temporarily during the International Human Rights Conference.

Photo 8: Military Outpost in Guadalupe Carney
The community Guadalupe Carney sits on lands that used to serve as the Regional Center for Military Training (CREM). At the CREM, the United States military and the CIA trained Contras and other Latin American armed forces responsible for human rights abuses.
Today while the base no longer exists, U.S. trained troops are stationed there to monitor the campesinos.

Photo 9: Mother in Rigores
Maritza is a mother from the community of Rigores. Her home was destroyed in June 2011 when Honduran police forcibly evicted community members who had been living on the lands for 12 years. Police burned and bulldozed homes, churches and schools.

Photo 10: Home Destroyed in Rigores by Police
Remains of a home that was destroyed in June 2011 by Honduran police during the eviction. The family was unable to collect many of their belongings before their home was destroyed.

Photo 11: Newly Constructed Home in Rigores
The newly constructed home built on the same small plot of land where the family has lived for 11 years. Rigores still lives in fear of a new eviction.

Photo 12: School in Rigores
Children play in front of the school, which is being reconstructed after being damaged last June during the violent eviction.

Photo 13: Marañones
According to a community leader from Marañones, "Here it is a crime to be a campesino."

Photo 14: Justicia, Libertad, Tierra
A sign waving at the entrance of the community Marañones reads: "Justice, Liberty, Land."

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Learning from Social Movements in Honduras

by Riahl O’Malley

“Estos brazos que no me dan, que no me dan…” (“Oh my achin’ arms, my achin’ arms.”) The song was stuck in my head all weekend, accompanied by the indelible image of Salvador, a prominent member of The Civic Council of Popular Indigenous Organizations of Honduras, leading an auditorium full of people in some Honduran hokey-pokey. “Me muevo de ‘lla pa’ ‘ca, de ‘ca pa’ ‘lla…” (“I m move from there ta’ here ‘n’ from here ta’ there…”)

Speeches from national and international speakers filled the weekend-long International Human Rights Conference in Solidarity with the Aguan. Between speeches, people like Salvador would energize the audience through chants, inspiring orations, or even… a song and dance activity.

The event was organized to draw attention to the human rights crisis in Honduras, particularly in the Aguan region. The situation has been dire for campesinos living in the Aguan, especially since the coup détat in 2009. In November of last year the Lobo administration sent in the military to respond to violence in the region. And while the United States funnels money into the Honduran police and military, militarization has only exacerbated the problem.

What kind of a social movement does it take to confront such forces? This militarization promises to enforce the law of the rich at the cost of the safety and security of poor and working people, particularly in rural areas.

I had numerous conversations during my time at the conference, reflecting on the qualities of valuable leadership and the integrated nature of organizing in Honduras. I reflected on the power of the diverse coalition that has formed in resistance to ongoing oppression. Speeches would begin by speaking about militarization and imperialism and end speaking about violence against women and insisting that the role of care-taking and domestic work is the responsibility of men as well.

I recall making my way to the restroom one morning and noticing a “SLIPPERY WHEN WET” sign at the entrance. Walking through the doorway I was greeted by a smiling face. Salvador, the same inspiring voice I heard sing behind the microphone in front of the entire auditorium, greeted me with a big smile. Sporting rubber gloves and rainboots, a garden hose in-hand, he warmly pointed me in the direction of the other bathroom.

Shared by roughly half of 1,000 conference participants, cleaning that bathroom must not have been a pleasant task. Someone like Salvador likely could have passed it to someone else. But, as many hands helped prepare 3 free meals a day for each attendee, helped sweep floors and stack chairs, hands of people who likely did not get a turn at the microphone, Salvador showed his solidarity 3 hours that morning with a mop and toilet brush.

The situation in Honduras is unspeakably messy, and U.S. policy is responsible for its own filthy share. There is a wave of peaceful resistance that wears a smile of humility, carries a song of resistance, and isn’t afraid to get dirty cleaning up a mess it didn’t create. As I reflect on ways to confront U.S. support for militarization in Central America, I draw inspiration from the examples of strong leadership who are mobilizing in Honduras. “…Me muevo de ‘lla pa’ ‘ca, de ‘ca pa’ ‘lla…”

Photo credit: Giorgio Trucchi – Rel-UITA