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February 19, 2007
Union-Community Solidarity in Colombia: Sintracarbón
Takes a Stand
by Suzanne MacNeil
Violence in Colombia has historically affected certain groups disproportionately.
Labor unions suffer the highest rates of assassination and repression
of any country in the world, while rural communities suffer poverty,
massacres, and forced displacement at the hands of armed groups.
Meanwhile, multinationals go about their operations in Colombia
with complicity or direct involvement in human rights violations
when it serves their interests. But when the most powerless and
vulnerable people join forces, even the most influential business
players in the global economy find themselves on the defensive.
A
number of Afro-Colombian and indigenous communities clinging to
survival in the northeastern department of the Guajira have found
an ally in Sintracarbón, the national union of coal industry
workers, which represents employees of the multinational-owned Cerrejón
Mine. At a time when unions are most vulnerable to attacks by armed
groups, and when their own rights as workers are at stake, Sintracarbón
made a courageous stand in their most recent collective bargaining
proposals and insisted on including demands centered on the mine’s
unjust treatment of local communities.
In a statement issued in November 2006, the union declared, “These
communities are being systematically besieged by the Cerrejón
Company. The company begins by buying up the productive lands in
the region surrounding the communities, encircling each community
and destroying inhabitants’ sources of work. Sintracarbón
has committed itself to the struggle of the communities affected
by the mine’s expansion.”
This surprising tale of solidarity has its origins in the forced
displacement of Tabaco, a small Afro-Colombian community. A long
process of coercion and intimidation of residents culminated in
the destruction of Tabaco by state and mine security forces in August
2001. The forced displacement was carried out to make way for the
expansion of Cerrejón, the world’s largest open-pit
coal mine.
Tabaco’s former residents were left with little or no compensation,
no recognition of being an Afro-Colombian community, and a Colombian
Supreme Court ruling in their favor which, having been thus far
unenforced, is a source of cold comfort in a region where the powerful
consortium of multinational mining companies—BHP Billiton,
Anglo American and Xstrata/Glencore—holds considerable political
sway.
Other Afro-Colombian and indigenous communities living on the periphery
of the encroaching Cerrejón Mine are not only in danger of
meeting the same fate as Tabaco, but are also suffering the day-to-day
difficulties of living in uncomfortably close proximity to the mining
operations. None of the Cerrejón’s employees live in
the affected communities, and the following statement reflects the
extent to which the company’s treatment of the communities
was a shocking revelation to the union. As Sintracarbón observed,
“The United Nations has established categories of ‘poverty’
and ‘extreme poverty,’ but these communities have been
reduced to the conditions that we could call the ‘living dead.’
They do not have even the most minimal conditions necessary for
survival. They are suffering from constant attacks and violations
of their human rights by the Cerrejón Company.”
It is common for corporations doing business in Colombia to contract
the army, irregular armed groups or their own private security forces
to defend their operations, and the Cerrejón is no exception.
While Cerrejón management point to the need to protect operations
from guerrillas and subversives, the people of the communities recount
ongoing instances of harassment, theft of livestock and restrictions
on their freedom of movement.
Intimidation
via security forces is only one problematic aspect of the mine abusing
its power. As some of the communities start to enter the “negotiating”
process with the mine concerning their land, they recall with apprehension
the same dynamic of deliberately misleading tactics, followed by
threats and coercion, suffered by Tabaco’s residents before
they were finally driven off their land. “Another of the company’s
macabre tactics has been to cut off the communities’ electricity
periodically,” Sintracarbón points out. “This
is just another element in the systematic process of annihilation
of the communities, to create despair so that they will negotiate
from a position of weakness, desperation and hopelessness, and agree
individually to the company’s terms.”
Sintracarbón’s contract negotiations with the mine
ended with only a few of their own demands being addressed and with
the company remaining intransigent with regards to reparations and
collective relocation for Tabaco. However, the union succeeded in
its insistence to be included in the future negotiations that the
mine holds with communities for their land. “Initially the
Cerrejón Company’s position was that it would not discuss
the communities issue at all at the negotiating table,” said
Sintracarbón member Jairo Quiroz Delgado, noting that international
solidarity from groups in North America and Europe helped change
the company’s mind. “The results may not be everything
we hoped for, but knowing these multinationals, we feel it is a
political advance. From now on the union will participate in everything
related to the company’s social programs, and it will have
a presence at the negotiations with the communities.”
Having the support of a union such as Sintracarbón goes
a long way towards lending a bit more leverage to people who otherwise
have few resources and technical assistance at their disposal, and
helps to mitigate the enormous advantage enjoyed by a company that
can largely set the terms of bargaining in its own favor. As Aviva
Chomsky, a history professor who has worked to create awareness
of the plight faced by the mine-affected communities, notes, “Here
we have some of the most powerless people in the world—indigenous
people with no resources, no electricity, no water—and some
of the most vulnerable—a union in a country with the highest
rates of assassination and repression against union activists in
the world—taking on some of the most powerful multinationals
in the world today. We have a lot to learn from their example.”
Suzanne MacNeil is the interim editor of Colombia Journal.
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