BOLIVIA: THE OPPOSITION STRIKES BACK

from Weekly News Update on the Americas:

The Bolivian government of President Evo Morales Ayma met on Nov. 25 with right-wing opposition forces to try to resolve a political crisis that came to a head when the rightwing Democratic and Social Power (Podemos) party withdrew its 13 members from the 27-seat Senate on Nov. 22, leaving the body without a quorum to act. The lone senator from the right-wing National Unity party also withdrew. Podemos also pulled its members out of the Chamber of Deputies, but the party’s representation there was too small to affect the quorum.

The opposition is upset over three main issues: the voting rules of the Constituent Assembly, which is writing a new constitution for Bolivia; changes to the agrarian law that will allow the redistribution of idle farmland to landless campesinos; and the Morales administration’s efforts to exert control over departmental government finances and to retain the power to remove governors who are deemed incompetent or corrupt. The ruling Movement to Socialism (MAS), which has a simple majority in the Constituent Assembly, voted on Nov. 17 to allow approval of new constitutional clauses with a simple majority, instead of a two-thirds vote.

The governors of six of Bolivia’s nine departments—Cochabamba, Santa Cruz, Tarija, Beni, Pando and La Paz—broke off relations with the Morales administration on Nov. 18 over the Constituent Assembly voting rules and the departmental control issue. The departmental governors were elected by popular vote for the first time last December; in the past they were appointed by the president.

Morales, before setting off on a working trip to the Netherlands, urged the right-wing sectors to dialogue “without conditions and impositions.” “We are from a culture of dialogue, and we’ll always be open to it, but there can’t be dialogue to constitutionalize the country’s latifundio,” said Morales, referring to wealthy people who own large tracts of land.

Some 100 members of National Unity, the party headed by cement magnate Samuel Doria Medina, have been holding hunger strike pickets against the government since Nov. 16. The pickets began in Sucre, where the Constituent Assembly is meeting, and spread to La Paz, Santa Cruz, Cochabamba and Potosi. They were joined on Nov. 24 by 15 women from the Santa Cruz Civic Committee and 30 members of the Departmental Workers Central labor federation. On Nov. 24, students in Santa Cruz threw rocks at Morales’ vehicle. (La Jornada, Mexico, Nov. 20, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26; Adital, Nov. 23; El Nuevo Herald, Miami, Nov. 20, 21, 22 from AP, Nov. 25 from EFE)

The Agricultural Chamber of the East (CAO), which represents powerful farmers in Santa Cruz, mobilized its forces in a 28-kilometer march from Warnes to the city of Santa Cruz on Nov. 21 to oppose the Morales government’s land reform. La Jornada reported that about 5,000 people marched. According to AP, private television networks covering the march from helicopters calculated the turnout at 15,000, while the CAO estimated it was 100,000. (LJ, Nov. 22; ENH, Nov. 22 from AP)

Meanwhile, thousands of indigenous, campesino and settler groups are marching to La Paz in defense of the government’s agrarian reform plan. Some 1,500 people started the march in Santa Cruz on Oct. 31; by Nov. 17 there were three columns of marchers from around the country, including campesinos from the north of La Paz department and indigenous people from Chuquisaca and Potosi. A fourth column joined the march on Nov. 21; the marchers now number some 3,000, according to La Jornada. The marchers are demanding that the Senate approve the new agrarian law, which was approved by the Chamber of Deputies on Nov. 15 and is now pending in the Senate. (La Epoca, Bolivia, Nov. 17; LJ, Nov. 17, 22; Adital, Nov. 23)

The first three columns of the march, due to reach the capital on Nov. 27, plan to push the issue there despite the Senate blockade: “If the senators don’t want to work, we’re going to demand their immediate resignation,” they insist. (LJ, Nov. 26) “We have no choice; we’re going to shut the Parliament,” warned Anselmo Martinez, who is leading one of the columns of indigenous marchers from the Andean region. (ENH, Nov. 23 from AP) On Nov. 21, the Six Federations of the Chapare, a union alliance representing campesino growers in Cochabamba department, met with Morales and declared a “state of emergency” in their sector to defend his agrarian reform program against the opposition. (LJ, Nov. 22)

Senator Walter Guiteras of the Podemos party said negotiations with Vice President Alvaro Garcia Linera over the agrarian reform law can only work if the issue is resolved quickly. Once the marchers reach La Paz, “the decisions will no longer be in the hands of the representatives of the political parties or in the groups that are marching, but rather in the regions, in the civic committees and the departments,” Guiteras warned. (LJ, Nov. 26) Morales blasted opposition politicians for defending their own large landholdings, pointing out that Guiteras’ family owns 49,051 hectares of land in Beni department, of which 2,911 hectares belong to Guiteras personally. (LJ, Nov. 24)

Oil contracts renegotiated

On Nov. 23, the Chamber of Deputies approved 44 contracts which the government signed last October with 10 transnational oil companies. The contracts were renegotiated following the May 1 nationalization of Bolivia’s oil resources. The Chamber of Deputies sent the contracts to the Senate, where their review is now being held up by the Podemos boycott. (ENH, Nov. 23 from AP; LJ, Nov. 23, 24)

One of the 44 renegotiated contracts is with the Spanish-Argentine oil company YPF, which has finally settled a dispute with the Guarani indigenous tribe in Tarija department. In an agreement due to be signed on Dec. 12, the company pledged $13.5 million over the next 20 years for public works favoring the 4,000 Guarani people on whose land the company has been exploiting major gas reserves. The company will fund agricultural and livestock projects designed and implemented by the indigenous people, as well as programs to combat high dropout rates among indigenous students.

Guarani council member Teofilo Murillo told AP that the $13.5 million “doesn’t compensate for the enormous damage to the environment” in the region surrounding the Margarita gasfield. “We were never consulted,” said Murillo. “The company snuck in quietly, carried out the work and left enormous environmental and social damages.” The Guarani people say the region’s water sources have been polluted; they were seeking $25 million in compensation. The company claims that in the 10 years it has been operating in Tarija’s Itika Guasu region, it has carried out a number of public works—but it declined to give specifics.

On Nov. 11, nearly a thousand Guarani people camped out in protest at the edge of the Margarita gasfield, and threatened to seize the company’s facilities if Repsol didn’t meet their demands. (ENH, Nov. 23 from AP)

From Weekly News Update on the Americas, Nov. 26

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Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also:

“Bolivia: Whither Nationalization?”
by Gretchen Gordon, Upside Down World
WW4 RPEORT #127, November 2006
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WW4 REPORT #125, September 2006
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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Dec. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingBOLIVIA: THE OPPOSITION STRIKES BACK 

PERU: ACHUAR WIN OIL FIGHT

from Weekly News Update on the Americas

On Oct. 23, after a weekend of intense negotiations, the Achuar indigenous nation reached an agreement with the Peruvian government and the Argentine oil company Pluspetrol, bringing an end to a nearly two-week blockade of oil facilities in the Peruvian Amazon. More than 800 Achuar elders, women and children took part in the blockade, shutting down power to most of the area’s oil facilities and blocking access to the region by road, river and air. The Achuar took the radical actions to protest the devastating impact of oil contamination in their territory after two years of failed talks with Peruvian government officials. They ended their blockade and returned to their homes on Oct. 24.

“We have achieved 98% of our demands, and won recognition of our rights,” said Andres Sandi, President of the Federation of Native Communities of the Corrientes River (FECONACO). “This victory is the result of the strength of our people, who came together and pressured hard and would not abandon our demands.”

The agreement signed Oct. 23 requires the company to speed up the safe processing of waste waters; build a new hospital and fund healthcare services for the Achuar; and provide a year of emergency food supplies to affected communities. The pact also mandates that 5% of the oil royalties currently granted to Loreto region must go for Achuar community development. In addition, the agreement formally acknowledges the Achuar’s declaration that they oppose new oil concessions in their territories and request cancellation of contracts for blocks 104 and 106.

For 30 years, the oil company has been discharging more than one million barrels a day of untreated toxic waste directly into the rainforest. As a result the Achuar have unsafe levels of a range of toxins, including lead and cadmium, in their bodies. The toxic dumping has also poisoned the fish and game in the area which the Achuar traditionally eat to survive. (Amazon Watch, Oct. 24)

From Weekly News Update on the Americas, Oct. 29

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Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also:

WW4 REPORT #126, October 2006
/node/2579

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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Dec. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingPERU: ACHUAR WIN OIL FIGHT 

VENEZUELA: SECESSION IN THE OIL ZONE

Interventionist Legacy Behind Zulia Separatist Movement

by Nikolas Kozloff, WW4 REPORT

With the Venezuelan presidential election fast approaching on December 3, political tensions have reached a new high. Recently, the Venezuelan Attorney General initiated an investigation to determine whether a right-wing organization called Rumbo Propio (“Our Own Path”), which has placed banners in Zulia state advocating for regional separatism, is guilty of treason. Zulia, located in the westernmost area of the country, is home to much of the country’s oil industry. Maracaibo, the Zulia state capital, is the second largest city in Venezuela.

President Hugo Chavez has accused his opponent in the presidential election, Manuel Rosales, the Zulia governor, of fostering a separatist movement, “together with Mr. Danger”—a reference to US President George W. Bush. Ever since Chavez returned to power after a brief coup in 2002, the United States has channeled millions of dollars to Venezuelan organizations, many of which are highly critical of the regime.

The United States, according to Chavez, is encouraging such unrest so as to benefit from the state’s significant oil resources; Rosales denies the allegations. The Attorney General has stated that he has no evidence linking the US to a secessionist plot. However, he claims that the US Ambassador, William Brownfield, had a close relationship to Rosales and has frequently traveled to Zulia.

In light of the fiery accusations, it is instructive to revisit some of the murky history of US involvement in the region—and the long legacy of shadowy machinations by US oil companies in Zulia.

The United States and Zulia Secessionism in World War I

In 1908, the US helped to support a military coup d’etat in Venezuela launched by Juan Vicente Gomez. Gomez’s primary goal was to establish a strong, centralized state. To achieve this, he would have to head off secessionist sentiment in Zulia. Shortly after Gomez’s seizure of power, in fact, a former senator and diplomat from Zulia declared that his native state should have the right to select its own people for state government.

Initially, Gomez was cautious, preferring to appoint “sons of the soil” to Zulia’s government. Gomez could ill afford political problems in the west. Measuring 63,100 square kilometers, with 178,388 inhabitants in 1908, Zulia was not only large in terms of sheer land mass, but also economically important. When Gomez took power, Zulia had the most substantial budget of any Venezuelan state. The largest city, Maracaibo, had a population of about 39,000 at the turn of the century.

During the First World War, the petroleum industry was just getting underway in Lake Maracaibo. Zulianos, who had long clamored for greater autonomy, now used Gomez’s sympathy for Germany in World War I to justify greater independence from state control. The regime acted promptly to repress prominent citizens in Maracaibo who sought to rid themselves of military rule.

As the war in Europe degenerated into endless stalemate on the western front, Gomez chose to sympathize with Germany. “As a military man,” writes Stephen Rabe in The Road To OPEC, United States Relations With Venezuela, 1919-1976, “Gomez respected Germany’s military efficiency and prowess and approved of the position that its army achieved in German political life.” Gomez openly displayed his allegiance by wearing a Prussian-style uniform, suppressing pro-Allied newspapers, and incarcerating journalists who were sympathetic to the allied cause. In a slap in the face to the US, Gomez kept Venezuela neutral in the war even after the US entered the conflict in 1917 on the side of the Allies and German defeat looked more likely.

Gomez’s position incensed the Woodrow Wilson administration, which reminded the Venezuelan leader of his manipulation of the constitution, and even went so far as to claim that Gomez ruled through “a policy of terrorism.” In late 1917, the State Department considered its options regarding the Gomez problem. Quietly, US diplomats consulted with Venezuelan exiles, who recommended covertly arming anti-Gomez exiles. Apparently, like his predecessor Theodore Roosevelt, Wilson favored intervention in Venezuela. In early 1918, he queried his secretary of state, Robert Lansing, whether “this scoundrel” could be overthrown without upsetting peace in Latin America.

Unfortunately for Gomez, the deterioration in US-Venezuelan relations threatened to destabilize the political situation in Zulia. Though Gomez’s sympathetic position towards Germany was likely to please the powerful German commercial colony in Maracaibo, the restive city population would shortly appeal to Wilson for help in breaking free from Gomez’s control. In normal times, Gomez could ill afford to allow secessionist movements to flourish, but now with the oil companies in Zulia and revenue increasing from the industry the notion became unthinkable. In 1920 Venezuela settled the last of its external debts, and Gomez could not jeopardize a fall off in further income.

Dr. Pedro Rojas: A Dangerous Enemy

Santos Matute Gomez, the Zulia state governor, prohibited a pro-Allies demonstration in Maracaibo in late 1917. Santos Gomez has been variously described as Gomez’s half-brother or the bastard son of Juan Vicente Gomez’ uncle. The danger for Gomez and his associates was that pro-ally sentiment in the city might lead to U.S. intervention in Zulia. In order to head off further unrest, Gomez and his men would have to keep a watchful eye on prominent dissident voices. Of particular concern to the regime was one Dr. Pedro Rojas.

According to the US consul Emil Sauer, Rojas “is a man of thirty-five, of pure white race, of distinguished parentage, and is highly respected here.” A prominent architect and manufacturer and contractor, Rojas was said to be “very popular among the residents of the city.” Furthermore, Rojas was one of the few Venezuelans in Maracaibo who spoke English well. A potentially dangerous force to be reckoned with, he wrote an article for Panorama, a Maracaibo newspaper, praising the free institutions of the United States and the liberal policies of the US president. Fearing reprisals from the Zulia state secretary, Landaeta Llovera, who had warned the paper to avoid any praise for the US or President Wilson, the editor refused to publish the article. Undeterred, Rojas paid a visit to the US consul in early 1918 and proposed that the US offer nothing less than support for revolution in Maracaibo.

On behalf of the “Pro Patria Bolivare Society,” Rojas wrote in a letter to the consul (in impeccable English) that the Maracaibo revolutionaries sought “to put, in the place of our present system of government which is unconstitutional and rests on military dictatorship, a wholly civilian organization headed by honorable, civilized and unmilitary men. With respect to our foreign policy, we want consistently to abide by the democratic inclinations of our national spirit, which unreservedly brings us to the side of the Allied cause. We are led to them not only by our political and social principles, but also by our economic interests and our commercial ties with the allied nations of Europe, and especially at this time and from now on in an ever higher degree, with the North American nation.”

Rojas went on to complain about Juan Vicente Gomez’s “apparent neutrality which hides a connivance with Germany.” Rojas also complained that the government provided special protection of German interests in Venezuela. In any case, Rojas argued, the Zulia state government had been imposed on the people, and had to be overthrown through a coup d’etat. Once the state authorities were out of the picture, Zulia would rejoin other states which in turn would free themselves of tyranny, and relations with Germany would be broken.

Rojas requested airplanes, ammunition, guns and steamers. Rojas stated: “The national force of militia and police in these parts is so small that it does not reach 200, an in addition the men are suffering vexations and ill-treatment in the barracks and jail, which keeps them in a state of humiliation and disaffection.” The Maracaibo businessman concluded: “P.S. In trusting you with my name, I stake my life, so this confidential statement is for you and your Government under the reservation of honor.”

Rojas Appeals for US Intervention

What is striking is that not only did Rojas run the risk of contacting the US authorities, but also appeared to enjoy significant support. According to the US consul, the “revolutionaries here include a considerable number of the best people of Maracaibo, including over one-half of the State Legislature members, and people of means, some of whom are intimate friends of mine. They claim that over-whelming majority of the best people here sympathize with the revolution, though uninformed of any organized plan.”

These influential citizens of Maracaibo not only supported the overthrow of Gomez, but there appeared to be little stomach in the city for ongoing caudillo rule. For prominent members of the city, revolution was bound to lead to yet more repressive rule, “unless the United States would establish a sort of protectorate, as in Cuba, to keep representative government on its feet.” Faced with the specter of revolt, the US consul noted, “It appears quite certain that the local government here is looking for trouble and is nervous.” The authorities, continued the consul, increased security for Santos Gomez, who was heavily guarded particularly at night.

The US consul himself was surprised by the “extraordinary secrecy” of the conspiracy. “I knew there was a good deal of opposition here to the Government,” he remarked, “but this is the first intimation I have received that a definite plan of revolution was being worked out.” Leaders of the proposed revolution attempted to convince the consul that their efforts would meet with success.

In the first phase of the revolt, the state legislature would denounce the election of Santos M. Gomez as having been made under pressure from the central government “and as therefore void.” Later, the legislature would elect another Zulia state president and organize a government independent of the Gomez regime. “They,” remarked the consul, “say that the capture of Maracaibo, perhaps without bloodshed, is practically assured, the army being almost entirely on the side of the revolutionists.” However, the revolutionaries requested that the United States should prevent Venezuelan Federal warships from entering Lake Maracaibo.

The revolutionaries planned to enlist two thousand men from Maracaibo and five hundred from Coro. Despite this groundswell of support, the US consul was decidedly non-committal in his dealings with the rebels: “I could not see how the United States government could make any promises in advance, because that would be encouraging revolution.” The consul refused to attend a meeting of the revolutionaries. However, he agreed to refer the matter to the State Department.

How might one explain this lack of commitment on the US side? Wilson, after launching the US into the war to supposedly make the world “safe for democracy” now failed to support political forces that wanted to rid Venezuela of dictatorship. Significantly, the State Department’s Division of Latin American Affairs even covered up news of Gomez’s crimes so that Americans would not call for his removal.

In seeking to explain the US response, one scholar, Judith Ewell in her book Venezuela and The United States, takes a cynical view of US foreign policymakers: “Gomez…benefited from Washington’s judgment that the effort to remove him and keep peace over an outraged population would require too great a diversion of military resources.” What is more, in the event that Gomez vanished from the scene, the US would have to contend with a new and unpredictable political milieu dominated by Gomez’s capricious political opponents.

Without any tangible US support, massive anti-Gomez demonstrations in Caracas failed to materialize. “The influenza epidemic,” writes Ewell, “Gomez’s ruthless use of force, the lack of a coherent organized opposition, and the quiescence of the United States allowed Gomez to survive.” In Zulia, the revolutionaries decided to postpone the revolt indefinitely when U.S. assistance was not forthcoming. In Maracaibo, Rojas was arrested and charged with plotting against the government. He was incarcerated in the military prison of San Carlos for six years.

Nevertheless, further unrest suggested that Gomez was not yet out of the woods. In early 1919, Cesar Leon, a retired merchant and writer in Maracaibo, wrote a personal appeal to President Wilson condemning the lack of democratic freedoms in Venezuela.

Oil and the “Filibustering” Conspiracy

In a rejection of Wilsonian internationalism, US voters elected Warren Harding in 1920. On the surface, a less interventionist foreign policy stood to relieve pressure on the Gomez administration. However, Harding attached singular importance to promoting the expansion of US oil interests abroad, and the State Department was riddled with officials compromised by conflicts of interest. For example, William TS Doyle, the resident manager of Shell Oil in 1919-1920, was a former head of the State Department’s Division of Latin American Affairs. Jordan Stabler, another State Department official, went on to work for Gulf Oil. Francis Loomis, a powerful State Department official, later worked for Standard Oil.

In December 1921, Gomez received a shock when he was apprised of a plot for a military invasion of Venezuela. The plan was foiled when the Dutch authorities stopped a ship setting forth from Holland. The ship had been chartered to travel to Venezuela, apparently to engage in a “filibustering expedition.” Another ship was prevented from setting sail from England. Both ships, the British Public Records Office stated, had been funded to the tune of $400,000 by “oil interests of the United States,” which “had been pulling every possible string in order to block the development of the British Concessions which they ultimately hoped to get hold of.” It’s unclear whether the U.S. government had any knowledge of the plot. British reports, based on information supplied by Gomez authorities, stated that “a person named Bollorpholl of New York representing himself to be connected with State Department has handled the money.” Diplomats hinted that Standard Oil, which had been disappointed with legal decisions which favored British companies, “would like to see Gomez’s downfall and may have contributed to this expedition.”

Apparently, oil interests had been conspiring with Venezuelan military officers, such as Gen. Carabana and Gen. Alcantara. (British officials were most likely referring to Francisco Linares Alcantara, son of the Venezuelan president of the same name, who ruled the country in 1877-78.) What is more, the Venezuelan Minister for Foreign Affairs, Esteban Gil Borges, had been “practically in the pockets” of American oil companies. “So far as I understand,” remarked a British diplomat, “the filibustering expedition was arranged by the American Oil Interests with the express object of removing President Gomez and bringing Senor Esteban Gil Borges back into power.” When Gomez was informed of the plot, Borges was removed from his post.

Though the plot hatched by “American oil interests” never came to fruition, the growing oil presence was a concern for Santos Gomez, the Zulia state governor. In 1923, he personally wrote Gomez, warning his chief that oil workers could be subverted by enemies of the regime. Of particular concern to Santos Gomez was the isolated oil field of Mene de Buchivacoa, located across the Zulia border in the state of Falcon. Santos Gomez worried that the area could be an easy target for enemies to the regime, who could land forces there and garner the support of oil workers before the government could respond. “Santos Matute Gomez,” writes historian Sandra Flores, “deplored the absence of authority in an area of such importance and recommended the dispatch of a corps of police.”

Gomez Buys Off Pedro Rojas

Having weathered many secessionist plots, the Venezuelan authorities sought to head off Zulia secession by monitoring the opposition. The new Zulia state governor, Febres Cordero, remarked to Gomez that he had received reports that the popular Pedro Rojas, now free from his jail cell at San Carlos, was using his position as president of a local athletic center for political ends. Febres Cordero stated that it was possible Rojas was trying to found an association of workers. While the governor personally doubted the veracity of the reports, he paid 1,200 bolivares to help the center acquire a new boxing ring, “with the idea”, he wrote, “of putting myself in communication with the members of the club and observe them more closely.”

In a long 1926 telegram, the dictator wrote Febres Cordero “to watch Dr Rojas carefully and to investigate rumors that he was actively engaged in preparing a nucleus of young men and laborers who might be used in the formation of a body of troops in the event civil trouble occurred.” In a more forceful approach, Febres Cordero summoned Rojas personally, so as to speak candidly. Febres Cordero told Rojas point-blank that Gomez had received an anonymous letter, suggesting that Rojas had been instrumental in helping to form an athletic center for young men. Rojas, according to the anonymous letter, sought to become president of the organization in order to train members for military purposes.

Furthermore, Rojas was accused of having trained men employed in his factories, and “was trying by every means to increase his popularity among the Venezuelans and so far succeeded as to be elected the president of the strongest club in Maracaibo (El Club del Comercio) against most active foreign opposition.” Seeking to maintain a public facade of neutrality, Febres Cordero told Rojas bluntly that he had not investigated the charges. While he personally doubted the veracity of the claims, Febres Cordero advised Rojas to meet with Gomez personally.

Rojas, no doubt concerned for his personal security, accepted Febres Cordero’s advice. Traveling to the Venezuelan city of Maracay, he was granted an immediate interview with Gomez himself. One can easily imagine Rojas’ growing discomfort as the dictator personally outlined the charges in more detail. Far from his native Maracaibo and now on Gomez’ home ground, Rojas realized that he would have to soothe Gomez’s suspicions. He reminded Gomez that he had completed a six-year jail sentence at San Carlos. He added that “he had received his lesson?he had not and did not intend to mingle in politics but wanted peace.”

At this point, Gomez slyly answered that he had never believed the charges. However, in an offer of good faith, Gomez offered to award Rojas an engineering position in charge of improving the Maracaibo dock and aqueduct. No doubt feeling relieved, Rojas immediately accepted the position and returned to Maracaibo. Later, the Maracaibo native son was careful to stay in touch with Gomez, writing the dictator in April 1926 concerning preliminary work on the aqueduct. Having Rojas work personally on the project made political sense. In this way, the authorities could keep a careful watch on the respected one-time revolutionary.

Oil, Cocaine and the Lindblad Conspiracy

On the other hand Washington did not seem to pose much of a threat to the regime. The Republican administration of Calvin Coolidge officially espoused a policy of non-intervention in Latin American affairs. In late 1926, Secretary of State Frank B. Kellogg personally wrote American oil companies in Venezuela, lobbying managers to restrain abuses of the native workforce.

Nevertheless, Gomez would shortly receive worrying reports suggesting that the US Navy was spying in Zulia. While it’s unclear whether the US military sought to intrigue against state authorities on behalf of the oil companies, Gomez already had sufficient cause for concern. Though the dictator enjoyed a burgeoning alliance with the companies, and the spreading of prosperity from the industry allowed him to secure his position in power, Gomez had strong indications that US companies were plotting against him.

In the summer of 1926, British authorities made reference to a peculiar plot. “Information,” remarked one diplomat, “has been received from a very reliable source, and should therefore be treated with the greatest secrecy, that steps are being taken to foment a revolution in Venezuela during the course of the next few months. It is stated that the funds for a revolution are being supplied by American oil companies with a view to obtaining further concessions and their agent on this side to be Captain Herold LINDBLAD of 20 Craven Hill Gardens, Lancaster Gate.”

The plot, documented in cloak-and-dagger fashion by British authorities, involved a bizarre assortment of shady characters. Central to the effort was David Herold Lindblad, a former commander of the Swedish Navy and acting Norwegian Consul in Trinidad. Lindblad sought to recruit support for the conspiracy in England and Germany. The British authorities noted that Lindblad was married to an English lady in Trinidad, whose mother was related to Gen. Alcantara, of whom Lindblad himself was a close associate. Alcantara, who was resident in Trinidad, had received indications of growing dissension in the Gomez armed forces and hoped to militarily intervene in Venezuela with the idea of becoming president himself.

British authorities noted that Alcantara was born into a prominent Venezuelan family and his father was president of Venezuela. Reportedly, he had support not only in Ciudad Bolivar but also in the Orinoco districts, Margarita Island and western Venezuela “where he is in command.” Alcantara was in turn linked to other sources, such as a certain individual described in cryptic manner as “D.” This individual had traveled from New York to the Caribbean and was in communication with Lindblad. Apparently, “D” met with a certain “L” in New Orleans, who had agreed to supply six thousand pounds for purchasing equipment. The 6,000 pounds, noted British authorities, “was to be placed at the disposal of Lindblad for the purchase of a trawler and arms.” Meanwhile, “D would seem to be an intermediary between General Alcantara and certain parties in New York (?Standard Oil?) [sic], who might be interested in financing the plot.”

According to British authorities, there were indications that the plotters had approached Standard Oil, Shell, British Controlled Oilfields, “and some group in Germany,” with the idea of raising financial support for Gen. Alcantara. Of these the only party which agreed to negotiate was Standard Oil, which “did not wish to appear openly in the transaction but agreed to act through an intermediary.” In conversations with British Controlled Oilfields, Lindblad suggested that the company advance 10,000 pounds to charter a ship and purchase arms at Hamburg. If Gen. Alcantara came into power, British Controlled Oilfields would receive a “quid pro quo” in the form of oil concessions.

Alcantara required money to buy one thousand rifles, 30 machine guns and other arms and equipment, and to hire a 200-ton trawler in Germany to transport the weapons to Venezuela. The port of embarkation was Hamburg. According to British intelligence Lindblad was associated with a businessman in the German port city, who had a flourishing trade with South and Central America and who had smuggled cocaine and morphine. Little to his knowledge perhaps, British authorities sent an agent from Scotland Yard to be present at Lindblad’s interview with British Controlled Oilfields in London. The authorities, who remarked that Venezuela had enjoyed stable government under Gomez and that British interests were well treated in the country, promptly passed word of the plot to Gomez directly through British diplomats in Caracas.

Apparently, the plotters grew concerned when it looked like British interests might work against their plans, and Lindblad’s wife warned him: “Be very careful about choosing the crew. Shell might succeed in getting traitors on board by means of much bribery.” When Gomez found out about the plot, Standard Oil grew alarmed and withdrew its support; the conspiracy promptly fell apart when the necessary funds did not materialize. For his part, Lindblad notified his conspirators that he would shortly return to Trinidad from Hamburg. However, word of the conspiracy alerted the authorities to the possibility that disgruntled caudillos could unite with the oil companies to create unrest. According to British authorities, “hopes are?still entertained that when matters have quietened down and President Gomez’s suspicions have been allayed, through the intermediary of ‘L’ the Americans may again be induced to co-operate.”

Gomez Consolidates Power

In the midst of this political intrigue, Gomez acted decisively to appoint a stronger and more competent state governor in Zulia, Vincencio Perez Soto. According to Gomez biographer Brian McBeth, rumors of oil companies sponsoring Zulia secession concerned Gomez and convinced the dictator of the need to appoint a stronger man as state president. What is more, as British authorities put it, “the peace enjoyed for so long by this country has been one imposed by General Gomez, now getting on in years and in uncertain health, and it is doubtful whether it will long survive him.”

Additionally, if Gomez died, then “candidates to the succession will not be wanting,” a British diplomat found. Most worrisome of all, “the prizes of government have increased tenfold in the last few years. The most obvious first step to successful revolution would be to gain control of the oil region with a view to extracting financial support from the oil companies.” Clearly, the oil-rich Zulia region was increasingly critical. By 1928, in fact, Venezuela would become the leading world oil exporter.

In the 1920s, US economic interests in Zulia grew, with American oil companies such as Standard Oil and Gulf joining their British counterparts in the Lake Maracaibo area. Though US diplomats reported that authorities in Caracas were not overly concerned about rumors that Maracaibo would break free of central control, the US consul in Maracaibo, Alexander Sloan, alerted his superiors to widespread disaffection in the city.

Sloan said that Zulia natives as well as Maracaibo residents “do not now and have not for years felt any great affection for the central government.” However, he added that Zulianos believed the economic and natural boundaries of the Maracaibo Lake united the area with the Cucuta district in Colombia and not with Caracas. Likewise, local residents argued that Cucuta was united to Maracaibo by much closer economic bonds than to other districts within Colombia.

Furthermore, reported Sloan, Maracaibo natives suspected that the central government purposefully isolated their city from the rest of the country and from the outside world for fear that an independence movement might arise there. Local residents were also incensed “that although there are many quite capable Maracaiberos [Maracaibo residents], not one has ever been placed in a position of power in the state of Zulia.”

Upon assuming office, Perez Soto set about meeting with oil company officials, including Roy Merritt, a manager at Caribbean Oil Company. Writing later to Gomez, Perez Soto commented that Merritt “had opened up to me too much, showing me that he was alarmed at what he called claims and inconveniences which had been presented against his company, and saying that he sees that these matters could be leading to the same path as the Mexicans in 1911. And these?phrases leave a lot to think about.”

The Mysterious Mission of the USS Niagara

Meanwhile, Perez Soto was confronted with unsettling news. On July 2, 1926 the USS Niagara arrived off the coast of Zulia. The US consul requested that the sailors be allowed to celebrate the 4th of July in Venezuela. When an air officer attached to the Niagara requested permission to fly over Maracaibo in honor of the July 4th, Perez Soto grew suspicious. Reports reached the governor that the real reason for the over flight was to take aerial photographs of the region. Perez Soto barred the disembarking of the Niagara crew and refused to authorize the over-flight.

Kellogg and the State Department’s policy of non-intervention notwithstanding, Perez Soto was concerned. Writing Gomez, the governor related that the US sought to station the Niagara in Venezuelan waters “as a kind of sentinel of North American interests in Venezuela.” Perez Soto was concerned that the Niagara might be a bad omen of things to come, and remarked that “in this same manner the Americans placed battleships in Magdalena Bay in Baja California in 1914.”

Perez Soto then employed his intelligence to obtain detailed reports concerning the activities of US marines from the Niagara on Zapara island, located in the mouth of the Maracaibo Bar. Perez Soto uncovered that the Niagara crew had mounted a wireless radio with a reach of 2,000 miles. Perez Soto was particularly concerned that powerful sectors of Maracaibo society might conspire with the United States to further Zulia secession with the aim of separating the state from the rest of Venezuela.

In an effort to lessen tensions with foreign interests, Pérez Soto assured oil company managers that he was “anxious to discuss their problems with them and to lend them any aid in his power.” Perez Soto sought to assert his authority over the oil companies through diplomatic and legal means. As the US consul put it, Perez Soto and local officials were determined “that conditions such as existed in Tampico [Mexico] are not to be tolerated here, and [they] have become much stricter in enforcing discipline and obedience to the laws.” In a note to Gomez, Perez Soto mused that perhaps the oil companies would put up with legality and honesty—”or maybe not, and they will try to undermine me,” through their representatives in Caracas.

Redrawing the Region’s Borders

Clearly, in many ways Perez Soto had been more a more forceful governor than his predecessors. For Gomez, however, the risk was that the more powerful Perez Soto became, the greater the possibility that the charismatic politician would become a rival in his own right. As Gomez consolidated power, he faced yet further military unrest, and there were ample opportunities for Perez Soto to create intrigue.

As Gomez approached old age, Perez Soto might have wondered about his own future and felt a certain degree of concern. In the first years of Perez Soto’s term in office, the political situation in Venezuela looked increasingly murky, with Gomez’s presidential tenure set to expire in 1929. (Under the Venezuelan constitution, Gomez was allowed to run for another seven year presidential term in 1929. But, in light of student unrest in 1928, he proclaimed he would not run as a candidate. In 1929, the constitution was revised and the position of “Commander in Chief” and President were separated. Congress elected Doctor Juan Baptista Perez as president, who had little influence. Gomez became commander in chief and continued to control real power behind the scenes.)

In July 1928 Col. Jose Maria Fossi, a trusted Gomez subordinate, turned against the dictator, taking the city of La Vela de Coro for a few hours. The military uprising, which called for revolutionaries to be reinforced by 300 Venezuelan and 90 Dominican rebels working in Curacao, was crushed by Gomez’s troops.

McBeth has written that following the assault Perez Soto reorganized his small armory in order to prepare for future attack. However, Fossi later remarked that Perez Soto had approached him and offered him money in exchange for his support in fomenting a separatist movement. The ultimate aim was to form a new republic comprising the Venezuelan states of Zulia, Falcon, and the Catatumbo region of Colombia. The venture, added Fossi, would have the support of the oil companies in Lake Maracaibo.

While such reports must be treated cautiously, Colombian authorities were apparently concerned about a plot and Bogota’s House of Deputies met in secret session to discuss “moves of Yankee agents in the Departments of Santander and Goagira which sought to provoke a separatist movement which, united to Zulia, would form the Republic of Zulia.”

Perez Soto dismissed rumors of his involvement in Zulia secession as “treason against the Fatherland, and an immense dishonor.” However, Perez Soto’s credibility was further damaged when correspondence reached Gomez himself hinting at efforts to involve Perez Soto in Zulia secessionist plots. McBeth writes that “important oilmen with close connections with the State Department had enquired about the suitability of Perez Soto as President of Zulia.”

What might have motivated Perez Soto to become involved? One possibility is that he was worried about the future political climate. In the event that Gomez were to fall or die in office, Perez Soto could face political vendettas or worse. Perhaps Perez Soto, having conducted successful negotiations with the oil companies in 1926, now hoped to cash in on his political capital.

The History in Light of the Current Controversy

At this point it’s unclear how similar Rumbo Propio might be to earlier conspiracies. The evidence is suggestive that in the past prominent political figures allied to the oil companies and the United States sought to foment unrest in Zulia. Today, Chavez hasn’t demonstrated any proof that Rumbo Propio is affiliated with Rosales or the United States.

On the other hand, the group shares Rosales’ and the United States’ contempt for Chavez. Rumbo Propio, led by an economist named Nestor Suarez, is an avowedly right-wing organization opposed to the government’s economic policies. The group seeks to encourage “liberal capitalism” in Zulia.

The question, however, is whether Rumbo Propio is destined to become another historical footnote or to make real political problems for Chavez. When I recently traveled to Maracaibo, I put this question to Umberto Silvio Beltran, Zulia regional coordinator of the Bolivarian Circles, pro-Chavez grassroots groups organized locally throughout the country.

Beltran didn’t deny the existence of real regionalist sentiment in Zulia, but downplayed the notion that the area would break away from Venezuela. “People here consider themselves Venezuelan,” he said.

Nevertheless, with tensions rising in the run-up to the election, one cannot discard the possibility that the United States, or local separatists, might take advantage of the political climate to create unrest. If Chavez is right and the Bush administration is encouraging secession, this cynical American strategy will most likely anger Chavez’s hardened followers in Zulia.

The president’s support in Zulia state is not insignificant, and any U.S. meddling could ratchet up political conflict. According to Beltran, there are approximately 180,000 people involved in the Bolivarian Circles in Zulia. Hopefully, Zulia will not become a political battleground on Election Day and cooler heads will prevail.

———

Nikolas Kozloff is the author of Hugo Chavez: Oil, Politics, and the Challenge to the U.S. (St. Martin’s Press, 2006)

RESOURCES:

Rumbo Propio
http://www.rumbopropio.org.ve

See also:

“Colombia v. Venezuela: Big Oil’s Secret War?”
by Bill Weinberg
WW4 REPORT #108, April 2005
/colombiavenezuelabigoil

From our weblog:

“Venezuela: US Naval maneuvers encourage Zulia separatists?”
WW4 REPORT, April 9, 2006
/node/1839

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Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingVENEZUELA: SECESSION IN THE OIL ZONE 

URUGUAY: ECO-PROTESTS ROCK IBERO-AMERICAN SUMMIT

from Weekly News Update on the Americas:

On Nov. 3, environmentalists in the cities of Gualeguaychu and Colon in the eastern Argentine province of Entre Rios blocked the border bridges leading to Uruguay to protest continuing efforts to build a paper pulp mill in Fray Bentos, on the Uruguayan shore of the river that divides the two countries. The protesters in Gualeguaychu built a wall of brick and cement on national highway 136, 15 kilometers from the border bridge, to symbolize the hard position taken by the Finnish company Botnia and by the governments and international institutions in refusing to halt construction of the pulp mill. Environmentalists say the project will contaminate the river and the surrounding ecosystem and destroy the livelihoods of local residents. (La Jornada, Mexico, Nov. 4, 5; El Nuevo Herald, Miami, Nov. 4 from AP) The Spanish company Ence has already backtracked in its plans to build a similar pulp mill along the river.

The action was timed to coincide with the Nov. 3 inauguration of the 16th Iberoamerican Summit in Montevideo, where the Spanish government tried to initiate a dialogue between Uruguayan president Tabare Vazquez and Argentine president Nestor Kirchner; the two leaders’ relations have been significantly chilled by the paper mill conflict. In Gualeguaychu, two protesters dressed up as Vazquez and Kirchner cut the tape to inaugurate the symbolic wall. Later in the evening, several assembly members from Gualeguaychu spoke on the radio, inviting the heads of state from the summit to attend “a meeting that’s more fun, and with faces that are less sad, on the banks of the Uruguay river, where there are still birds and life.”

Hundreds of local residents came on Nov. 4 to see the symbolic wall and support the anti-pulp mill protests. The protesters expected to end their blockade and take down the wall after the summit ended on Nov. 4, but they said they would keep carrying out actions until they get results. (LJ, Nov. 4, 5)

In Montevideo, some 400 activists from leftist and grassroots groups took part in a Nov. 3 mobilization against the summit. They marched to the “security zone” and faced off against a heavy contingent of riot police. There were only a few minor incidents. (Uruguay Indymedia, Nov. 4; LJ, Nov. 4)

The 22 participating countries closed the Iberoamerican Summit on Nov. 4 with the approval of a 45-point consensus statement protesting both the US embargo against Cuba and a new US law—signed by President George W. Bush on Oct. 26—which authorizes construction of a wall along the US-Mexico border. “We consider the building of walls to be a practice incompatible with relations of friendship and cooperation among states,” read the statement. “We believe that the construction of walls doesn’t stop undocumented migration, the flow of migrants or the trafficking of people; it incites discrimination and xenophobia and favors the emergence of groups of traffickers who put people in greater danger.” (LJ, Nov. 5)

Argentine foreign minister Jorge Taiana spoke at the summit about his country’s “Great Homeland” program, which allows any citizens of the expanded Mercosur trade area to regularize their immigration status in Argentina simply by showing proof of their nationality. They are then eligible for the same benefits and rights as Argentines. The expanded Mercosur area includes Argentina, Brasil, Paraguay, Uruguay, Venezuela, Bolivia, Chile, Peru, Ecuador and Colombia. (LJ, Nov. 4)

From Weekly News Update on the Americas, Nov. 5

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Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also:

WW4 REPORT #126, October 2006
/node/2580

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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Dec. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingURUGUAY: ECO-PROTESTS ROCK IBERO-AMERICAN SUMMIT 

BOLIVIA: WHITHER NATIONALIZATION?

Still Waiting for Public Control of Hydrocarbons

by Gretchen Gordon, Upside Down World

On May 1, the day the Bolivian government announced the “nationalization” of the country’s vast oil and gas reserves, I went out to witness the symbolic takeover of a former Bolivian refinery that was privatized in the late 1990s.

A cheering crowd looked on as a young employee of Bolivia’s state oil and gas company, Yacimientos Petroliferos Fiscales Bolivianos (YPFB), strung a YPFB banner over the metal letters spelling out the name of the Brazilian company Petrobras. Another banner hung on the front gate proclaimed “Nationalized: Property of Bolivia.”

The Gualberto Villaroel refinery on the outskirts of the city of Cochabamba is emblematic of Bolivia’s radical oil and gas privatization a decade past, and the recent faltering attempts of the current government to recover state control of this its most valuable resource.

Last week, five months after President Evo Morales’ nationalization decree, I went back to the refinery to see how things have progressed.

Standing on the entrance road of the refinery complex, David Zambrana, a worker in YPFB’s industrialization division, gives me the lay of the land. Surrounding us are the massive round tanks where unprocessed gas and liquid materials are stored, a building where gas for household cooking is bottled in small yellow tanks, various administrative offices and the heart of the complex—a giant fuels and lubricants plant.

“This is YPFB’s, this swath here,” says Zambrana, pointing to a cluster of offices and the gas bottling facility. “All the storage tanks back there and this part here belong to another company, CLHB.” Turning to face what looks like a small city of metal ducts and steam, he points to the massive fuels and lubricants plant. “That over the fence, that’s Petrobras.”

We’re standing in the middle of three different entities that before Bolivia’s oil and gas privatization were all part of YPFB, the country’s most profitable public enterprise. The boundaries are visibly awkward, having no logic in the industrial landscape of a refinery where the functions of storage, refining and bottling are all inter-dependent.

As we walk up to take a picture through the metal fence around Petrobras’ fuels plant, a worker from across the drive whistles and waves us away. Zambrana calls to him. “They‚re just taking a picture of the sign. The ‘access restricted’ caught their attention,” he says, a hint of defiance in his voice.

The privatization of Bolivia’s oil and gas industry during the 1990s was part of an ambitious economic overhaul, a condition of World Bank and International Monetary Fund (IMF) restructuring plans implemented by the government of then-President Gonzalo Sánchez de Lozada. Along with five other key state industries, YPFB’s exploration, drilling and transportation operations were turned over to private foreign control. A few years later, the subsequent government of Hugo Banzer completed the dissolution of YPFB by selling off the country’s refineries and pipelines at bargain prices. Brazilian Petrobras paid $114 million for the Cochabamba refinery and an additional refinery in Santa Cruz. Zambrana argues that if you subtract the millions of dollars in materials, gas and derivatives thrown in for free, Petrobras actually only paid $50 million to control 90% of Bolivia’s refining capacity—the rights, the land, the machinery, even YPFB staff.

“The land alone is worth more than that,” says Zambrana. “Basically, we gave it away.”

When Sánchez de Lozada sold his privatization plan to the people of Bolivia, they were promised a road to prosperity and were assured that the Bolivian government would remain in the driver’s seat. Instead, through a series of backroom deals with foreign corporations, Bolivians watched as someone else drove off with their gas.

It was this clash between promises and reality that ignited the explosive popular demand for nationalization that brought down two Bolivian governments in the last three years and made possible Evo Morales’ historic election victory last December.

Morales’ nationalization decree promised to rewrite history, to use the second-largest natural gas reserves in South America to flip the fortunes of this, its poorest country.

Functionally, the decree includes several components: an industry-wide audit of oil and gas companies operating in Bolivia; the re-negotiation of export prices with Argentina and Brazil; increased production taxes on the country’s two most productive gas fields; and the re-negotiation of all foreign oil and gas contracts. The crux of the decree, however, is the rebuilding of YPFB into a functioning company active in all aspects of the chain of production, from exploration to commercialization. YPFB’s rebirth is to be made possible by purchasing a majority shareholding in the five different consortiums that once made up the state company, but which are now under private control.

In Bolivia’s nationalization media show back on May 1, soldiers marched in to secure oil and gas fields, and “Nationalized” banners were unraveled. The government was quick to claim victory: “This is the third and definitive nationalization of oil and gas,” announced President Morales. “We’ve completed what we promised.”

“From today onward the oil and gas will belong to all Bolivians. Never again will it be in the hands of the transnational corporations,” assured Vice President Alvaro García Linera.

The international media was more than willing to corroborate the government’s story with reports of the “seizure” of oil and gas fields and corporate assets—and warnings of mass capital flight.

As I watched outside the refinery that May Day, a Bolivian brass band played while Saul Escalera, an YPFB engineer, calmly closed out the evening and dispatched the crowd. “We have now recovered this refinery—You may now all return home.”

Five months later, the soldiers have left the gas fields. The YPFB directors overseeing the “nationalized” companies have gone back to their offices. The government has not been able to reach an agreement with private investors to buy back majority control of any of the former YPFB entities. Government regulators have had difficulty inspecting private oil and gas facilities and gaining access to financial records necessary for the audits. YPFB suffered a political scandal, and the oil and gas minister resigned, citing frustration with the lack of progress in implementing the decree.

With the October 27 deadline for the re-negotiation of contracts fast approaching, the Achilles heal of the government’s policy has been laid bare. Rather than expropriate the privatized industry, the government tried to negotiate its “nationalization.” And those negotiations have not gone very well.

Critics on the Bolivian left attribute the lack of progress to the moderate nature of the government’s approach, which technically isn’t a nationalization at all. They argue that without an expropriation, YPFB is left without capital or infrastructure and is therefore unable to be a producer, or even an effective regulator. It has no real control, and must haggle for every inch of change. From the most critical viewpoint, the country’s most valuable resource is just as firmly in the hands of foreign corporations as before, and the desperate hope of many Bolivians—that they might finally benefit from the wealth beneath their feet—remains unfulfilled.

Driving around the perimeter of the refinery along a dusty unpaved road, we approach the back of Petrobras‚ territory to take a photo of several holding tanks on the other side of the fence, Zambrana exchanges glances with the driver. He reaches up and removes the YPFB sign from the front window, placing it on the floor of the van. “You can take a picture, but take it through the window,” he says. “They’ve got a guard out.”

Though it’s been rough going, the struggle to implement Bolivia’s nationalization decree has not been entirely without successes. Despite the initial warnings of imminent capital flight or international arbitration, the government has been able to keep foreign investors engaged and even win some significant gains: a higher gas export price negotiated with Argentina will bring in an extra $110 million this year; the increased tax rate on two gas fields has generated an additional $32 million a month; and YPFB has attracted a range of new investors for several large-scale industrialization projects. But in terms of the reconstruction of YPFB, the key to the dramatic change Bolivians were promised, the government is stuck at the negotiating table.

The Cochabamba sun beats down brightly as we finish up the tour of the refinery grounds. Zambrana remains optimistic and eager about the promised changes. “When do you think the government will be able to purchase the shares from Petrobras?” I ask.

“The end of this month,” he replies, referring to the October 27 deadline in the nationalization decree. “We’re ready when the takeover comes,” he adds firmly. “We’ve got the information and the technical capacity. Almost all the workers are Bolivian, and most are ex-YPFB employees; they’re proud about the refinery returning to Bolivia.”

But negotiations with Brazil have been put on hold. Brazilian President Inacio Lula da Silva faces a runoff election October 29, and politically can’t be seen caving in to Bolivia. Waiting until after the election has stalled negotiations for four weeks, by which time the nationalization decree will have reached its six-month expiration date.

“Yeah, I read about that. But I haven’t heard anything more,” says Zambrana. “Now we’re just waiting.”

As we drive out past the refinery entrance, the bright metal letters of Petrobras glint in the afternoon sun; the YPFB sign has been removed. On the front gate, the other now somewhat disheveled banner still proclaims, “Nationalized: Property of Bolivia.”

Several feet in front of it, a Petrobras security guard stands watch.

———

Gretchen Gordon is an oil and gas researcher at the Cochabamba-based Democracy Center and a contributor to a forthcoming Democracy Center book on Bolivia and globalization.

This story first appeared Oct. 19 on Upside Down World
http://upsidedownworld.org/main/content/view/466/1/

See also:

“Evo Seizes the Gas: Bolivia’s Nationalization by Decree”
by Gretchen Gordon
WW4 REPORT #122, June 2006
/node/2027

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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Nov. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingBOLIVIA: WHITHER NATIONALIZATION? 

THE FARC ON TRIAL

Simón Trinidad Prosecution as Terror War Test Case

by Paul Wolf, WW4 REPORT

Ricardo Palmera, a Colombian guerrilla better known as Simón Trinidad, is on trial in Washington D.C. for hostage-taking and related charges of conspiracy, aiding and abetting, and providing material support to a terrorist organization. Trinidad is well-known in Colombia for his role as a negotiator for the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), a Marxist guerrilla army that has battled the Colombian government for more than 40 years.

The charges stem from an incident on Feb. 13, 2003, in which a Cessna 208 surveillance aircraft crashed in a FARC-controlled region of the Colombian jungle. After the crash, and the execution of two occupants of the plane, the FARC took three other occupants captive, and have held them ever since, along with about 60 Colombian police, military, and political figures they are holding somewhere in the dense Colombian jungle. The three Americans were employed by California Microwave Systems, a US military contractor. The FARC consider them to be prisoners of war.

In January 2004, Simón Trinidad was apparently sent by the FARC leadership to Quito, Ecuador, to meet with James LeMoyne, UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan’s special representative for Colombia-FARC negotiations. The meeting was not to be. Trinidad was tracked by Colombian and US authorities and arrested by Ecuadoran authorities shortly after arrival. There he stated that he was a member of the FARC on a humanitarian mission to discuss the exchange of prisoners, and asked for the protection of the Ecuadoran government. He was shortly sent to Colombia, interrogated by the FBI, and then extradited to the US to face criminal hostage-taking charges stemming from the Cessna incident.

It’s conceded that Simón Trinidad has been a member of the FARC since 1987, working in the Caribbean Bloc in the northwest of the country. It is not alleged, however, that Trinidad had any involvement in the Cessna incident itself. He did not give the order to shoot down this plane, and was not involved in the decision to take the Americans as prisoners. It appears that Trinidad’s only involvement was to travel to Ecuador to attempt to lay the groundwork for talks on their release.

Although the Colombian government has successfully entered into negotiations with another guerrilla organization, the National Liberation Army (ELN), and with the right-wing Colombian Self-Defense Forces (AUC), no progress has been made during the administration of President Alvaro Uribe with respect to the FARC. The Colombian government has in principle agreed to negotiations under the auspices of three friendly countries, Switzerland, France and Sweden, but its position has been that a prisoner exchange would only be part of broader talks on demobilizing the FARC. Public pressure, however, forced the Colombian government to raise the issue of a separate humanitarian exchange with the FARC. The FARC responded by stating its terms for the exchange, which include the creation of a small demilitarized zone, which would be limited in duration to what would be required to exchange the prisoners.

The issue of a prisoner exchange has loomed in the background of peace negotiations since at least 1998, when Andres Pastrana was elected president of Colombia with promises of ending the war with the guerrillas. Although Pastrana’s experiment, granting the FARC a large demilitarized zone to rule as their own, ultimately ended in failure, the prisoner exchange issue has survived. In 2003, the FARC released hundreds of captives in exchange for a dozen FARC members held in Colombian prisons. Although US and Colombian officials are quick to term the prisoners as “criminals” and “hostages,” respectively, the reality is that both sides consider them canjeable—a Spanish word meaning exchangeable.

With the capture of the three Americans, and their inclusion on the list of canjeables, all this would come to an end. Trinidad’s mission to Ecuador would be met with his arrest, and extradition to the US for hostage-taking. Colombian President Alvaro Uribe gave the FARC an ultimatum: release all the prisoners, including the three Americans, or face extradition to the dreaded North America, where the harsh treatment of terrorist suspects has become legendary. The ultimatum went unanswered, and Trinidad was flown to Washington DC aboard John Ashcroft’s private jet, with an entourage of FBI agents and heavily-armed guards.

The possibility of a canje, with Trinidad himself part of the exchange, came to an abrupt end last week, one week after Trinidad’s trial began, when a car bomb injured 20 people inside the military academy in Bogotá. President Uribe not only called off negotiations with the FARC, but also announced that the Colombian military would undertake a mission to rescue the 60 prisoners held by the FARC. The announcement drew little support in Colombia, particularly among the prisoners’ family members. Nicholas Burns of the US State Department quickly arrived, announcing US support for a rescue attempt. Whatever the fate of the prisoners may be, negotiations with the FARC have hit an impasse.

Breaking New Legal Ground

The prosecutors of Simón Trinidad are breaking new legal ground, in the form of a broad expansion of US criminal conspiracy laws to hold members of a designated “terrorist” organization responsible for crimes committed by other members of the group. The FARC is being described not as an insurgent army, or even as an army of unlawful combatants, as is the case with the Guantanamo detainees. In Trinidad’s case, the prosecutor characterizes the FARC as a criminal “hostage taking conspiracy” of some 20,000 co-conspirators. Members of the designated “foreign terrorist organization” become co-conspirators through their status as members of the organization. The case represents an experiment by the Department of Justice to try a foreign insurgent using ordinary criminal conspiracy laws.

Simón Trinidad originally had a “co-defendant” in the case—the entire FARC organization. Thomas Hogan, the Chief Judge of the D.C. District Court, went so far as to summon the organization to appear in his courtroom, publishing notices in Colombian newspapers and shortcutting the extradition process. For whatever reason, this unique approach to terrorism was abandoned. The co-defendant army was dropped from the case, and the top 50 leaders of the FARC indicted separately in a drug case hailed as the largest prosecution in US history. Simón Trinidad is not a defendant in that case, nor does he show up in Colombian intelligence documents used to prepare “The FARC Indictment,” or in seized FARC documents which describe the organization’s leadership. These intelligence reports and captured documents, if admitted into evidence in Trinidad’s trial, put the government in the position of convicting a rank-and-file member of an insurgent army as a co-conspirator for crimes he could not have ordered, or even influenced.

The trial began Oct. 17 in Washington DC, and is expected to last several weeks. What is odd about this trial is that very few facts are in dispute. There is no argument that Simón Trinidad is a member of the FARC. There is no doubt that the three Americans were taken captive by the FARC, who are still holding them. There is no doubt that Trinidad knew that the FARC takes and holds prisoners. These are the elements of the charge of conspiracy to commit hostage-taking. This evidence is undisputed, but presented in the form of a slick multimedia presentation, using video clips, computer images of documents, and recordings of radio transmissions. It is supported by some 20 witnesses flown in from Colombia. The jury will not only be convinced, but impressed and perhaps even entertained. It is only the rarest of trials that is interesting to watch.

What the jury will not get to decide is whether US laws against hostage-taking should apply to this situation at all. Or whether it is appropriate to use judicial proceedings as a bargaining chip in peace negotiations. The jury will have no idea that their verdict in the trial could have far-reaching implications that go well beyond the fate of the individual defendant. They will not know the context, or the reason this prosecution is occurring. They will not know that there are some 80 cases pending against Trinidad in Colombia, in which he is being tried in absentia for other FARC activities, or that he is not permitted a private attorney of his choice. After hearing the evidence, they will be given a simple set of rules to follow, called “jury instructions.” The mechanical application of these instructions can only result in finding the defendant, and the entire 15,000-member FARC organization, guilty of hostage-taking.

Yet the prosecution’s efforts have resulted in some leakage of information, perhaps enough to confuse some jurors. The prosecution’s proof of the FARC’s “demands” for the release of the Americans—in actuality the FARC’s response to the government’s initiative—has opened the door to some mention of the prisoner exchange issue lurking behind this trial. There is no room in the jury instructions to consider these factors, and the defense’s efforts to ask witnesses questions about the subject have been cut off by the judge at every instance. Yet, it only takes one person to hang the jury, and these jurors are being asked to vote on a very abstract idea: whether the negotiator for a “foreign terrorist organization” can be held criminally responsible for the actions of his organization. It would only take one juror to say no, and the outcome is far from certain.

———

Paul Wolf is an attorney in Washington, and may be contacted via his websites:

http://www.paulwolf.org

http://www.international-lawyers.org

See also:

“The Politics of the FARC Indictment:
A ‘Secret Formula’ Against Colombia’s Guerillas?”
by Paul Wolf
WW4 REPORT #122, June 2006
/node/2029

“FARC leader captured in Ecuador”
WW4 REPORT #95, February 2004
/static/95.html#andean11

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Special to WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Nov. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

World War 4 Report Deconstructing the War on Terrorism http://ww4report.com

Continue ReadingTHE FARC ON TRIAL 

BOLIVIA: COCA WARS CONTINUE

Campesino Movement Meets the New Boss?

by April Howard, Upside Down World

A conflict between the Bolivian military and coca growers led to the death of two coca growers on the morning of September 29. The confrontation marks an unanticipated turn of events under the administration of President Evo Morales.

Morales is a long-time leader of a coca grower union in the Chapare region and stated enemy of violent eradication of the crop. He campaigned on negotiated eradication and legalization of coca.

Historically, the US-led War on Drugs has involved the militarization of Bolivia’s coca-growing areas, purportedly to prevent the production of cocaine. Such operations have involved forced eradication of crops, often resulting in egregious violations of human rights. The coca leaf is part of traditional indigenous culture in Bolivia, and while some of the leaf does become cocaine, much of it is consumed nationally in traditional and religious practices. In many ways, Morales’ rise to power is based on his experience as the president of the Six Federations coca growers’ union, a position which he still holds. In a recent event in the city of Santa Cruz, Morales himself admitted that “the coca leaf made me president.”

The unions and the Movement Toward Socialism (MAS), Morales’ political party, were founded during pro-US presidencies as instruments of resistance against the War on Drugs. They focused on protecting the coca growers’ rights to produce the leaf in peace. Now, however, not only is the history of violent eradication repeating itself with Morales on other side of negotiating table, but the government’s details of the September deaths are vague and cloaked in rhetoric. There is a frightening irony in the way that this operation was carried out: without negotiated eradication, but with the use of military force and the familiar rhetoric of the War on Drugs.

The coca growers, Ramber Guzmán Zambrana, 24, and Celestino Ricaldis, 23, were killed by Bolivian police and military eradication forces, the Joint Task Force (Fuerzas de Tarea Conjunta, or FTC), in Carrasco National Park in the Yungas de Vandiola region. Both the farmers and the land where they planted coca fall outside of the territory of the Six Federations of unionized coca growers with which the government usually negotiates. So far, details of the event from coca growers and the military are contradictory, and human rights leaders in Bolivia are calling for a full investigation.

Kathryn Ledebur of the Andean Information Network (AIN) was in the area when the event was reported. According to Ledebur, the tragedy highlights the need for dialogue and negotiated solutions between eradication officials and coca growers, instead of the use of the military. She cites the case as a continuation of violent conflicts between coca growers and eradication forces in remote areas, which have historically been under-investigated, leading to impunity for soldiers who have killed farmers. Ledebur is concerned about the lack of clear detail regarding the circumstances of the situation, and emphasizes the need for more concrete information than that provided by the military.

The AIN is especially concerned that the government is characterizing the coca growers as externally influenced and involved in trafficking. “This is not a problem of narcotrafficking,” Ledebur stated, “this is a problem of subsistence farmers trying to survive.”

Contradictory Accounts

According to government reports, a military contingent was sent by the government to eradicate illegal coca crops in the national park. However, according to coca grower representative Nicanor Churata, the area is a traditional growing area, not a part of the zone where coca growing is prohibited. According to the government, the area is included in an agreement signed with former president Carlos Mesa, in which coca is not allowed to be grown in national parks.

Part of the difficulty in clarifying events is due to the extreme remoteness of the area, which has no roads and is only accessible by foot or helicopter. Many landless subsistence farmers live in remote areas and grow coca as their only plausible cash crop due to the fact that it will not spoil while being transported to markets in the nearest towns. Traditional uses of coca are widespread and transcend class. While miners and farmers chew coca as a source of energy (similar to coffee) and to suppress hunger, coca is also an excellent source of vitamins and is a popular tea. Even the US Embassy’s website suggests using it to cure altitude sickness. However, according to the ministers of defense, Walker San Miguel and Alicia Muñoz, the remoteness of the area means that the coca grown there has no access to markets, and is therefore only being used in the production of cocaine. The defense ministers also claimed that the coca growers were armed by foreign narcotraffickers—a claim denied by coca leader Nicanor Churata.

According to the military reports, between 8 and 9 AM, the eradication contingent was ambushed by 200 coca growers armed with guns and dynamite, and the soldiers shot back in self defense. However, according to Churata, the growers had requested dialogue with the government for the last month, and when they were ignored, they decided to patrol the area to defend their crops. Churata states that the growers were armed only with sticks and stones. His statement is corroborated by local coca grower leader Emilio Caero.

The two coca growers were killed in the initial confrontation, which also left two soldiers, Germán Carlos Chipana Quispe and Eleuterio Ramos, and once citizen, Calixto Policarpio Licona, injured by gunfire. All three were later treated at a clinic in the city of Santa Cruz. In response to the confrontation, the military took coca grower Romy Monzón Saire hostage, as well as two other men and a woman. Coca growers took two soldiers and nine police hostage. The coca growers sent a message to the military leaders requesting that troops be withdrawn until a dialogue could be arranged.

Hostage Exchange

At 7 PM that evening, Arsenio Ocampo, a human rights representative in Chimoré negotiated the release of the military and police hostages in exchange for the bodies of the two coca growers who were killed, as well as the four hostage coca growers. A forensic doctor who accompanied Ocampo examined the bodies and stated that the dead men were shot with large caliber bullets, not pellets—which brings the intent of the military operation into question, as pellets would have been a more appropriate tool for crowd control. The coca growers kept their hostages’ guns, which they say they will return when one of the hostages taken by the military, currently in a hospital in Santa Cruz, is released.

Since the incident, the coca growers have been asking the government for help transporting the bodies of the two men who were killed to the town of Totora, where their families were. Due to the decomposition of the bodies, and lack of response, the men were buried in one of the communities. A helicopter did come to transport two injured coca growers to a clinic.

Marginalization and Lack of Recognition

Since the event, Morales has not indicated any likelihood of real negotiation with the coca growers in the park, maintaining that they and their crops are illegal. As of October 2, the government proposed to dialogue with five groups of coca growers to discuss the confrontation, but also plans to continue with the eradication of 1,110 acres of coca and 1,750 illegal settlements in the national park.

In a meeting on September 30, with the chief of state, the vice-minister of social defense, Felipe Cáceres, said: “Their hands won’t tremble or flutter in making sure that the law rules in Carrasco National Park, a protected area, where coca cannot be grown or cocaine made.” Cáceres also stated that the law would not be negotiated with the coca growers, who he called “narcotraffickers” and their “peons.” He emphasized the government perspective that the squatters and coca growers are illegal, and that the armed forces would continue to be used in eradication following the government’s strategy in natural parks, where the policy is “zero cocaine.”

This is an abrupt change in vocabulary from the administration of a president who campaigned with the coca-positive slogan “Coca Yes, Cocaine No.” As a candidate, Morales promised non-violent, negotiated eradication that, when possible, would be carried out by growers themselves.

Morales met with the representatives of the Six Federations on October 3. At the meeting, Morales proposed the creation of a tax on legal coca plots. The revenue raised by the tax would ostensibly be a move against the US government, by showing the international community that the coca leaf is a legitimate medium of support for the national treasury. Morales also warned growers against planting more than the legal limit, a cato (40 square meters).

The deaths in the national park were addressed at Morales’ meeting with the Six Federations, but the discussion centered on protecting the legitimacy of “legal” coca production in comparison to non-unionized growers in places such as the park. The Six Federation union leaders, who are not affected by the continued eradication in national parks, resolved to “support the politics of the fight against narcotrafficking and the control of the government our friend Evo Morales over coca plantations,” according coca leader Asterio Romero. “We will not permit more plantations in national parks and we will add ourselves to the eradication efforts made by the army and the police.”

The president of Bolivia’s Permanent Assembly of Human Rights, Guillermo Vilela, said that his institution would send a letter to defense minister Alicia Muñoz requesting clarification of the situation. Waldo Albarracín, Defender of the People, an office created to investigate human rights abuses, has said that he will request an investigation, but reportedly has taken no steps to investigate the situation himself. The Andean Information Network is forthcoming with a more detailed report on the incident.

Politics have provided citizens all over the world with too many examples of populist candidates who come to office only to turn on their most faithful followers. The government of Evo Morales does indeed need to convince the world that coca is a legitimate crop, with much more to offer than an illegal drug. However, military violence against citizens excused by anti-drug rhetoric is only the continuation of a failed US policy. It is not the creative and nonviolent approach that will bring peace to the region and convince the international community to decriminalize the leaf that put Morales in office in the first place.

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April Howard is an editor at UpsideDownWorld.org and is currently based in Cochabamba, Bolivia.

This story first appeared Oct. 3 on Upside Down World
http://upsidedownworld.org/main/content/view/450/1/

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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Nov. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingBOLIVIA: COCA WARS CONTINUE 

ARGENTINA: RULING IN DIRTY WAR “GENOCIDE”

from Weekly News Update on the Americas

On the evening of Sept. 19, in front of an overflow crowd of public spectators, the No. 1 Federal Oral Court in the Argentine city of La Plata, Buenos Aires province, sentenced former police investigations director Miguel Osvaldo Etchecolatz to life in prison for the crimes of wilful homicide, illegal privation of liberty and application of torture. Etchecolatz must serve his sentence in a common prison; he will continue to be held at the Marcos Paz prison, where he has been detained since shortly after the trial began in June.

The court treated the charges as crimes against humanity in the context of genocide, ruling that the kidnappings, torture and murders carried out by Etchecolatz were part of a systematic extermination plan by the state. It was the first official court recognition that the actions of Argentina’s military regime (1976-1983) constituted genocide. An estimated 30,000 people were detained and disappeared by the regime, and presumably murdered, though most of the bodies were never found.

Etchecolatz was the director of investigations for the Buenos Aires provincial police, which operated under the armed forces during the dictatorship. As his defense, he claimed he was merely following orders–specifically that he was carrying out a decree issued on Feb. 5, 1975, by the constitutional government of Isabel Peron, which ordered the military to use any necessary means to neutralize rebels operating in Tucuman province. (Adital, Sept. 21; Justicia Ya – La Plata, Sept. 19)

On the morning of Sept. 18, Jorge Julio Lopez, a member of Argentina’s Association of the Ex-Detained-Disappeared, was scheduled to appear at the municipal building in La Plata to observe the Etchocolatz trial as a witness and plaintiff in the case. But the 77-year-old Lopez failed to appear at the hearing, and when he was still missing at the end of the day, his colleagues quickly became alarmed; they filed habeas corpus petitions with the appropriate authorities and began a massive search effort.

Lopez had testified in the trial that he saw Etchecolatz shoot to death two detainees, Patricia Dell’Orto and her husband, Ambrosio De Marco, in the clandestine prison known as Pozo de Arana. Lopez had also identified Etchecolatz as a member of the gang that illegally detained him at his home in October 1976. Lopez, who had worked as a bricklayer, was tortured while detained at Pozo de Arana and the Fifth Police Station of La Plata.

The Association of the Ex-Detained-Disappeared reports that a number of its members have suffered intimidations and threats during the course of the Etchecolatz trial, and they are concerned that Lopez’s disappearance could be related to his testimony against the former police chief. Association member Nilda Eloy, another survivor who testified against Etchecolatz, received phone calls on the night of Sept. 16 in which recordings of torture sounds were played. Activists were further spooked by the Sept. 20 discovery of a burned corpse at a site known as Camino Negro, where authorities frequently dumped their victims during the dictatorship. The body turned out to not be that of Lopez–though it remains unidentified–but Lopez’s lawyer, Guadalupe Godoy, called the incident “symbolic and threatening; when we found out, we understood the message.”

The Association of the Ex-Detained-Disappeared has formed a coalition with other human rights groups, Justice Now – La Plata, which is leading the campaign to demand Lopez’s safe return. Human rights supporters, union members, students and others held a vigil on the night of Sept. 20 in the San Martin plaza in La Plata to demand that Lopez be found alive and well. Another demonstration was held the next evening, Sept. 21. Supporters held another, larger march for Lopez on Sept. 22 in La Plata.

On Sept. 21, the Buenos Aires provincial government announced a 200,000-peso ($64,541) reward for anyone providing information about the whereabouts of Lopez. (Communiques from Asociacion de ex Detenidos Desaparecidos, Sept. 19, 20, 22 via Red Solidaria por los Derechos Humanos-REDH; Pagina 12, Buenos Aires, Sept. 20, 22; Diario Hoy, La Plata, Sept. 20; Clarin, Buenos Aires, Sept. 22; Argentina Indymedia, Sept. 23)

From Weekly News Update on the Americas, Sept. 24

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Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also:

WW4 REPORT #119, March 2006
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“Argentina: ex-agent gets 25 years”
WW4 REPORT, Aug. 8, 2006
/node/2286

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Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, Oct. 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingARGENTINA: RULING IN DIRTY WAR “GENOCIDE”