colombia2007lepkowsky

Help a People of Peace in a Country at War By: Martin Lepkowski CHOCO, Colombia
"ALEJANDRO, mucho grande!" These words, spoken by a 5-year-old compesino, a child of the land, echoes to the heavens to proclaim, "I am here. I am planted in this place." The place, a humanitarian zone (one of many in Colombia), a nonviolent community of resistance, is in the state of Choco, in the region of Uraba. Here in Choco we are 12 people on a Witness for Peace delegation deep in the heart of the northwest jungle of Colombia. Our goal is to visit three communities of resistance, to see a people of peace in a country at war. To arrive at our destination, we flew from the national capital, Bogota, to Choco, and then rode, or "bucked," our way over deeply rutted roads to waiting dugout canoes. One such humanitarian zone is the nonviolent community of resistance called Cano Claro, home of Alejandro. There are seven such humanitarian zones in Colombia, aided by the Inter-Religious Justice and Peace Commission of Colombia. Alejandro, like so many others in his community, lives with the daily fear of being driven off the land or massacred by paramilitary groups that roam this jungle region. The founder of Cano Claro, Don Petro, is a robust 74-year-old compesino who recently returned to his land after a six-year absence. In the evening shadows, the community gathers as Don Petro tells a harrowing tale: In 1997, numerous massacres took place in this region under the auspices of the Colombian Army as well as paramilitary groups. Under the program dubbed "Operation Genesis," over 15,000 people fled the region. Some of these people were murdered, and some forced to sell their land. We were told by the compesinos, "They came to us and said, ?Sell your land or " In all, over 200 farmers, accused of being we will buy it from your widow.' guerrillas, were "disappeared." This operation was a land-grab by palm-oil companies and the Colombian business community. In 2000, Don Petro and others returned under great risk, accompanied by members of the Justice and Peace Commission, only to find their land filled with a non-indigenous plant with a strange fruit: the African oil palm. Even Don Petro's ancestral burial ground was covered by this paramilitary, corporate planting. So, Don Petro and others went to work and by machete hacked down acres of the palm, and invited other disenfranchised compesino families to join then in a community of nonviolent resistance. Today, however, most of Don Petro's land is still in the hands of the business community, guarded by the paramilitary as the Colombian Army and police look the other way. As the evening continues, others speak painfully, "They occupy our lands, you can see the results. Most of our children are malnourished." (I spy the swollen stomachs.) "How long will we have to suffer before they will give us our land back?" "The paramilitaries in the region have not demobilized. They will kill us for speaking the truth. The guilty one is the Colombian state. They do nothing to protect us." Today these people continue to live under threat of chain-saw-wielding paramilitary groups while the Colombian Army, by its own admission to us, protects no one but the palm companies' interests. Note that the planting of the African oil palm is the brainchild of the Colombian business community, the Ministry of Agriculture, and USAID (U.S. Agency for International Development). This palm grows 20 feet high and needs tremendous amounts of water and pesticides. It is grown for export and used in cosmetics and as a bio-fuel. Bio-fuels: our future, but, sadly, not a bright future of the starving poor in Colombia. The agri-industrial complex, consisting of such members as Exxon-Mobil, Monsanto and DuPont, are deeply involved in the creation of bio-fuels. Food will now compete with fuel for land, water and other resources. As of 2003, there were over 677,000 acres of African oil palm planted in Colombia. The Colombian government projects that by 2020 another 15 million acres of African palm and food crops will be planted entirely for export. So the forests are turning into palm plantations as the indigenous and compesino peoples are dispersed from their land. Colombia is fast becoming a mono-crop country unable to feed itself. To make matters worse, the US government is negotiating a free trade agreement (FTA) with the Colombian government. This agreement would no conditions on foreign investment. Colombia will be told to grow African palm and other tropical foods for export at the expense of life-sustaining food staples for the Colombian people. Under the FTA, there is no respect for the environment. Benefits of export crops will go to those who invest and not to those who harvest. There will be an elimination of tariffs. Hence, Colombia's weak economy will have to compete unfairly in the marketplace. (U.S. corporate farms are subsidized by U.S. taxpayers.) The FTA also frowns on the idea that those who harvest should have the right to organize. Unions are considered a barrier to free trade. It is important to note that, in 2006, 72 union activists were assassinated in Colombia. Between 1991 and 2006, over 2,100 were murdered -- more than in any other country. To date, only 37 people have been convicted for these crimes. Further up the river, our dugout canoes took us to the Afro-Colombian community of Pueblo Nuevo. Afro-Colombians make up 25 percent of the 3 million internally displaced people in Colombia, and live in extreme poverty in the jungle, or in squalor on Bogotá's coldest mountaintop. The community of Pueblo Nuevo asked us to relay this message to the American people and, by extension, Congress: Do all in our power to force a renegotiation of FTA so as to protect small farmers and other rural workers, ensure access to affordable medicines and include comprehensive labor and environmental protections. It asked us to cut military assistance to the government and increase support for those harmed by the conflict. It asks that we end aerial herbicide spraying of the coca plant and the food supply, and support viable alternative development projects. Most importantly, the community asks for justice. It wants the Colombian government, the Colombian military, the paramilitary and the guerrillas to be held accountable for human-rights violations by expanding programs to strengthen the Colombian justice system. Please call members of Congress. Let them know that you oppose the FTA in its present form; that you oppose the herbicide-spraying operation against the coca crop, and that you oppose military aid that supports a government that ignores those who have no voice. (U.S. taxpayers have paid a whopping $5 billion in predominantly military and fumigation aid to Colombia.) * * * Back home, standing in my garden ripe with food, I ponder these words of Don Petro: "They fill our land with African palm. They have cut down all the trees. We feel a lack of oxygen. The birds are gone. They no longer sing." Martin Lepkowski, of Wakefield, is a member of Witness for Peace.

Help a People of Peace in a Country at War
By: Martin Lepkowski

CHOCO, Colombia

"ALEJANDRO, mucho grande!" These words, spoken by a 5-year-old compesino, a child of the land, echoes to the heavens to proclaim, "I am here. I am planted in this place."

The place, a humanitarian zone (one of many in Colombia), a nonviolent community of resistance, is in the state of Choco, in the region of Uraba. Here in Choco we are 12 people on a Witness for Peace delegation deep in the heart of the northwest jungle of Colombia. Our goal is to visit three communities of resistance, to see a people of peace in a country at war.

To arrive at our destination, we flew from the national capital, Bogota, to Choco, and then rode, or "bucked," our way over deeply rutted roads to waiting dugout canoes.

One such humanitarian zone is the nonviolent community of resistance called Cano Claro, home of Alejandro. There are seven such humanitarian zones in Colombia, aided by the Inter-Religious Justice and Peace Commission of Colombia. Alejandro, like so many others in his community, lives with the daily fear of being driven off the land or massacred by paramilitary groups that roam this jungle region.

The founder of Cano Claro, Don Petro, is a robust 74-year-old compesino who recently returned to his land after a six-year absence. In the evening shadows, the community gathers as Don Petro tells a harrowing tale: In 1997, numerous massacres took place in this region under the auspices of the Colombian Army as well as paramilitary groups. Under the program dubbed "Operation Genesis," over 15,000 people fled the region. Some of these people were murdered, and some forced to sell their land.

We were told by the compesinos, "They came to us and said, ?Sell your land or " In all, over 200 farmers, accused of being we will buy it from your widow.' guerrillas, were "disappeared." This operation was a land-grab by palm-oil companies and the Colombian business community.

In 2000, Don Petro and others returned under great risk, accompanied by members of the Justice and Peace Commission, only to find their land filled with a non-indigenous plant with a strange fruit: the African oil palm. Even Don Petro's ancestral burial ground was covered by this paramilitary, corporate planting.

So, Don Petro and others went to work and by machete hacked down acres of the palm, and invited other disenfranchised compesino families to join then in a community of nonviolent resistance. Today, however, most of Don Petro's land is still in the hands of the business community, guarded by the paramilitary as the Colombian Army and police look the other way.

As the evening continues, others speak painfully, "They occupy our lands, you can see the results. Most of our children are malnourished." (I spy the swollen stomachs.) "How long will we have to suffer before they will give us our land back?" "The paramilitaries in the region have not demobilized. They will kill us for speaking the truth. The guilty one is the Colombian state. They do nothing to protect us."

Today these people continue to live under threat of chain-saw-wielding paramilitary groups while the Colombian Army, by its own admission to us, protects no one but the palm companies' interests.

Note that the planting of the African oil palm is the brainchild of the Colombian business community, the Ministry of Agriculture, and USAID (U.S. Agency for International Development). This palm grows 20 feet high and needs tremendous amounts of water and pesticides. It is grown for export and used in cosmetics and as a bio-fuel.

Bio-fuels: our future, but, sadly, not a bright future of the starving poor in Colombia. The agri-industrial complex, consisting of such members as Exxon-Mobil, Monsanto and DuPont, are deeply involved in the creation of bio-fuels. Food will now compete with fuel for land, water and other resources.

As of 2003, there were over 677,000 acres of African oil palm planted in Colombia. The Colombian government projects that by 2020 another 15 million acres of African palm and food crops will be planted entirely for export. So the forests are turning into palm plantations as the indigenous and compesino peoples are dispersed from their land. Colombia is fast becoming a mono-crop country unable to feed itself.

To make matters worse, the US government is negotiating a free trade agreement (FTA) with the Colombian government. This agreement would no conditions on foreign investment. Colombia will be told to grow African palm and other tropical foods for export at the expense of life-sustaining food staples for the Colombian people. Under the FTA, there is no respect for the environment. Benefits of export crops will go to those who invest and not to those who harvest. There will be an elimination of tariffs. Hence, Colombia's weak economy will have to compete unfairly in the marketplace. (U.S. corporate farms are subsidized by U.S. taxpayers.)

The FTA also frowns on the idea that those who harvest should have the right to organize. Unions are considered a barrier to free trade. It is important to note that, in 2006, 72 union activists were assassinated in Colombia. Between 1991 and 2006, over 2,100 were murdered -- more than in any other country. To date, only 37 people have been convicted for these crimes.

Further up the river, our dugout canoes took us to the Afro-Colombian community of Pueblo Nuevo. Afro-Colombians make up 25 percent of the 3 million internally displaced people in Colombia, and live in extreme poverty in the jungle, or in squalor on Bogotá's coldest mountaintop.

The community of Pueblo Nuevo asked us to relay this message to the American people and, by extension, Congress: Do all in our power to force a renegotiation of FTA so as to protect small farmers and other rural workers, ensure access to affordable medicines and include comprehensive labor and environmental protections.

It asked us to cut military assistance to the government and increase support for those harmed by the conflict. It asks that we end aerial herbicide spraying of the coca plant and the food supply, and support viable alternative development projects.

Most importantly, the community asks for justice. It wants the Colombian government, the Colombian military, the paramilitary and the guerrillas to be held accountable for human-rights violations by expanding programs to strengthen the Colombian justice system.

Please call members of Congress. Let them know that you oppose the FTA in its present form; that you oppose the herbicide-spraying operation against the coca crop, and that you oppose military aid that supports a government that ignores those who have no voice. (U.S. taxpayers have paid a whopping $5 billion in predominantly military and fumigation aid to Colombia.)

* * *

Back home, standing in my garden ripe with food, I ponder these words of Don Petro: "They fill our land with African palm. They have cut down all the trees. We feel a lack of oxygen. The birds are gone. They no longer sing."

Martin Lepkowski, of Wakefield, is a member of Witness for Peace.