(Above: A poster produced by COPAE, the Pastoral Commission on Peace and Ecology, displayed around the region: “I am Sipacapan and I care for my territory because: Where there is mining, there are contaminated rivers. Scientific studies demonstrate that the water of the Quivichil and Tzala rivers are contaminated with high levels of heavy metals and should not be used. ALL MINES CONTAMINATE.”)
SIPACAPA, Guatemala – For many Guatemalans, the very name of this town has become a symbol of the indigenous resistance to transnational mining operations that has swept this land in recent years.
Last week, on the fifth anniversary of an event that launched that resistance, hundreds have gathered to celebrate, but the mood was anything but celebratory.
Five years ago on this day, on June 18, 2005, the villages of this rural municipality held a series of community consultas, or plebiscites, expressing their unanimous rejection of the presence of international mining companies. The mostly Mayan residents of this region had just learned that their government had literally sold the land out from underneath them, granting hundreds of mining concessions to international corporations in the decade since the peace accords without consulting with them.
These consultas, the basis for the form of participatory democracy practiced by indigenous peoples all over the world, are required under international law, but the Guatemalan government had chosen not to observe that law. So the people decided to hold their own consulta, and their action inspired a movement. Sipakapa was the subject of a documentary celebrating the victory – “Sipakapa no se vende,” or “Sipakapa is not for sale.”
Growing like a quiet grassfire, the movement spread across the Guatemalan highlands, and now, an estimated 600,000 people have voted “NO” to the mining operations and to other transnational activities on their lands. The government has responded by declaring the consultas nonbinding, but the movement continues to grow, and it has been recognized internationally.
There was every reason to celebrate on this anniversary. After five years of struggle, indigenous Guatemalan voices were being heard around the world. The Interamerican Commission on Human Rights had just recommended that operations at the mine be suspended pending further study, following a University of Michigan investigation revealing elevated levels of contaminants in rivers and in the blood of nearby residents. Now, United Nations Special Rapporteur James Anaya, probably the world’s highest-ranking authority on indigenous rights, was touring the region, listening to the peoples’ concerns and expressing his support.
But on the day of the anniversary, a sea of grim faces gathered at City Hall and looked as their elected officials explained why they had accepted 8 million quetzales, the equivalent of $980,000 U.S., from Montana Exploradora, the Guatemalan subsidiary of the transnational mining company Goldcorp.
Sipacapa’s location at the edge of the highly productive Marlin Mine, along with its very visible role as a symbol of indigenous resistance made it a logical target for Goldcorp’s future investment, so it came as no surprise when the company began offering money to local officials for development projects, “no strings attached.” Until now, they had resisted.
Under the traditional form of government practiced here and in most indigenous communities, leaders are not authorized to make major decisions without involving the citizenry in public meetings – direct democracy at its most pure. In Sipacapa, some were saying, this had not happened.
Mayor Delfino Tema, dressed in white, was there to set the record straight. He explained to several hundred townspeople that municipal officials had accepted the offer only after consulting with local residents and hearing from several communities that they wanted to have access to the funds. Furthermore, the money will be administered by the company, not by the municipality, he said, to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest.
“There are those who say we’ve already been dining on the money given to us by the company. Nothing could be further from the truth – we haven’t even seen the money,” he insisted. “The community rules, and we are going to do what you say. We’re going to decide together how to spend this money in community meetings that are open for all to attend. We are going to continue in the struggle against the mining company.”
Applause was polite but muted, and the crowd filed out of the municipal hall and made its way across town to the parish hall for the celebratory Mass and lunch. The muttering and the placards indicated there was widespread discontent.
Meanwhile, I took advantage of the moment to call aside Arcilia Cruz Carillo of the nearby town of Canoj – one of few women mayors in the region – to ask her thoughts about Tema’s comments. Tema, as municipal mayor, serves as the chief administrator for the entire municipality of Sipacapa, which includes Canoj and all the other towns and settlements throughout the region.
Carillo was not happy. “The truth is, it’s pretty confusing because our leaders first said no, then yes. We’re seeing our water contaminated, our community divided – so it’s pretty sad, but we’ve always been courageous in this struggle. We pray to God that this company take its money back and leave as soon as possible.”
It was standing room only in the Catholic Church, decked out in green satin for the occasion. I didn’t know what to expect; Father Mario had declined from speaking with me before the meeting, saying he was a recent arrival in the community, and my friends from COPAE said he’d been reluctant to get involved.
Nonetheless, it didn’t take long to realize that this would be no ordinary Mass.
Father Mario, robed in white, stepped quietly to the pulpit and took a cue from Jesus’ sermon to his disciples from the book of Luke.
“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat; neither for the body, what ye shall put on. The life is more than meat, and the body is more than raiment. Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?
“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Then he switched to Matthew, and things began to get interesting.
“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and the mineria.”
Padre Mario was indeed taking a side.
“What is the kingdom of God?” he asked them. “Some say it’s the afterlife. I say it’s justice; that’s what we’re all looking for. But we all know the other god can be money, which can become an idol.”
He then delivered an eloquently rendered sermon that recalled Jesus warning his disciples of pending betrayal.
“We look for miracles at the last minute,” he warned. “A poor people is easy to buy; but the salaries will be carried to the cantinas, to dark places that divide my people.
“God created a garden, not a desert…what are you doing, my people?”
Communion was celebrated in silence; the closing prayer was prayed. But before we took our leave, Padre Mario opened the meeting for public comments.
“Remember our enemies are not of flesh and blood,” said Juan Montorroso of the Council of Pueblos of San Marcos, of which Sipacapa is a part. “They are the transnationals who are on top of us, manipulating us. The dignity of Sipacapa is worth much more than 8 million quetzales.
“Remember, the Spaniards deceived our grandfathers with a few pieces of gold. What will we tell our children and our grandchildren of the decision we are making right now?”
After the service, Montorroso reflected on the current situation in Sipacapa.
“This confusion is created by the company itself; it’s a part of their strategy,” he said. “They’re looking for multiple mechanisms to divide the community. But Sipacapa is a community with a great deal of dignity, and I think at the end of the day, they will reaffirm to Latin America and to the world that dignity is not for sale. “
A few scenes from Sipacapa’s celebration.
Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.
