El Salvador
riot police crack down on anti-privatization unions
On January 18 the Salvadoran
Riot Police, at the request of the ISSS (national public health administration),
raided the STISSS union headquarters. STISSS is a
prominent health care workers union and a militant voice against the
privatization of health care and other public services in
El Salvador
. The rationale given for the attack was that the STISSS offices were unsafe due
to damage caused by the numerous earthquakes that devastated
El Salvador
in early 2001, and that STISSS members needed to vacate the building for their
own physical safety. However, the Riot Police actions came on the heels of a
week of intense street protests, marches, rallies, and hospital take-overs by
the Salvadoran social movement in opposition to the recent firing of over 10,000
public sector workers. The police actions seemed to be no more than a blatant
attempt to undermine the militant leadership of one of the strongest unions
voicing opposition to the recent firings and to privatization.
In response to the police invasion of the STISSS headquarters, members of
STISSS, FESTRASPES (a federation of militant public unions), and the FMLN
surrounded the building in protest, and called for national and international
support. CISPES immediately mobilized our national and local emergency response
networks, generating calls, faxes, and emails directed at the Salvadoran
government. In response to all these actions, the ISSS administration entered
into negotiations with the STISSS. The agreement reached later that day was that
the ISSS (public health administration) would provide, free of cost, a temporary
office space for the STISSS, until such time that the official STISSS offices
are safe for habitation. Following this agreement, the Riot Police were removed
from the building.
The STISSS leadership has declared a victory on this point, but continue
mobilizing opposition to the massive firings taking place.
-
from a CISPES Action Alert Update Jan. 24, 2002
Need versus greed?
The Bujagali Falls dam project gets go-ahead from World Bank despite criticism
Privatization
in Zambia-
An SJC interview conducted
at Montreal’s CKUT community radio station with an anti-privatization activist
in Zambia
SJC:: We are talking with
Molima Kufekisa-Akapelwa of
Zambia
. Molima, please introduce yourself and tell us who you work with?
I work for the Catholic
Bishop's Conference in the Justice, Peace and Development Centre in
Lusaka
,
Zambia
.
We are going to talk about
privatization. Please, can you tell me why privatization is an issue, and why is
it important for you in your work?
The work that I do in the
Justice and Peace department mainly concerns economic justice issues from the
Church's perspective. In the past five-six years, we've been conducting
community education and research, particularly dealing with the impact of the
Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) on the poor in
Zambia
. Privatization was one of the key instruments of these economic reforms in
Zambia
. And in
Zambia
, the privatization programme was hyped as one of the best in
Africa
. Now, after four or five years down the road, we're really doubting how much it
remains a positive programme, nevertheless one of the best in Africa.
All right, we're talking
about privatization in
Zambia
. What have been the main sectors that have been affected? Is mining one of the
main areas that we're looking at? What other areas are you taking into
consideration?
Zambia
was mainly a state-led economy, so that meant that the
government was controlling the majority-share in several companies. They had
various companies that were buying grain from different farmers, and companies
that were doing retail trading. There was a wide range of different companies
owned by the state. Privatization entailed selling off those companies to
private buyers. This included the mining conglomerate B because mining was one
of the mainstays of the Zambian economy. Copper mining still remains one of the
main income earners for
Zambia
.
So for a country like
Zambia
, what happens, then, when private companies come in and take over what were
previously state-owned enterprises?
Zambia
, being a highly indebted country, signs an agreement every
three years or so to follow the policies of the IMF and the World Bank in the
hopes of getting debt relief. The government then commits itself to privatize so
many a number of companies by such and such a date. So for example, by the end
of 2000, over 280 state-owned companies were privatized. But during the past 4-6
years, it was noted that a number of companies were not even on the
privatization list. By the time they needed to be privatized, their asset base
and their production capacity were so low that the government ended up
liquidating these companies, laying off workers and then selling the viable
companies.
The argument is that
privatization is supposed to bring a greater efficiency, it's supposed to bring
a greater economic productive capacity, and it's supposed to make life better
for people. What is the experience that you have had?
Yes, that is the way that
privatization was advertised and hyped by the government and the donors B they
said that it would bring greater efficiency and would improve competition
because there would be better quality goods on the market and more jobs. In
fact, one of the main arguments was that new investors would be able to
recapitalise much more than the government-owned companies were able to, and
that this would in turn create higher levels of employment. Most of the
companies were bought by foreign companies or by privileged, highly-placed
people in
Zambia
, but still, there were high levels of lay-offs. And because of the
liberalisation policies that were agreed to with the IMF and the World Bank, the
Zambian government now has no restrictions on imports. Also, as a result of the
SAP, there has been a dearth in the manufacturing industry, so that most
manufactured goods come in from outside the country.
So if we have lay-offs as
you tell us and we don't have increased production and productive investment,
why is it that your government has embarked on the privatization programme over
the last few years?
I think the main reason is
that, being a low-income country,
Zambia
is very dependent on outside monetary assistance, and it is difficult for the
government to stand on its own terms regarding what policy options it wants to
pursue. The Zambian government has therefore ended up agreeing to a number of
SAP components, such as privatization. The privatization of the copper mines
actually shows the differences that exist between the government, the private
sector that owns the minority shares, and the donors. Because the government was
at such a low end at the time of the privatization of the mines, the whole
process was determined by the minority shareholders. There was a lot of
corruption- people in high-level offices making the negotiations without
thinking of broader public interest. They looked at the profits they would make
as individuals, and of course, the mining corporations did not take on the
social responsibilities that the Zambian Conglomerate of Copper Mines (ZCCM) had
before. Because the ZCCM was a state-owned company, they were also providing
services such as health, education, youth training and so on. But the new
mine-owners absolutely refused to take up these responsibilities and the Zambian
government did not give adequate attention to these needs. So now you find that
in the Copper Belt, even though things are picking up for business, the general
population is in quite dire straits because of the lack of access to quality
health care and education.
Now can you explain that a
little bit more, if we're talking about a copper mine changing over to private
hands, why exactly does that mean a loss of social services? What does it mean
for a family in a mining community?
OK, let's say we're talking
about a mine in a town called Chitwe. Chitwe Mines, as a mining company, would
have a school, a clinic and probably even a hospital. They would have youth and
skill-training centres, and they would have a mother-and-child clinic for
nutrition lessons and things like that. They'd also offer bursaries for good
students to study at city universities or maybe even to send them out of the
country. And then of course they'd have various social and entertainment
facilities such as football and netball clubs. That would be a full mining
outfit. So in terms of an ordinary family, the children would go to the mines'
schools, and receive a very good education compared to ordinary government
schools. The family would go to the mine-owned clinic that would offer far
better services compared to ordinary government clinics. However, at the onset
of the privatization of the mines, companies would suffer losses and would be
unable to continue maintaining such services. The company would then put out a
list of people to be retrenched, and then maybe a new company, most likely South
African, would come in and look at the whole set-up and say, Awell, for us, we'd
only be interested in the actual mine and a few of the houses owned by the
mines@ B the other social amenities, education facilities and so on, would not
be bought. Those would be left for the government to run, but of course, the
government already has a very stretched budget and is unable to maintain good
services. So the new company buying the mine in Chitwe would probably follow the
list of retrenchment because they would argue that they are bringing in
high-capacity equipment and that they don't need as many employees anymore. Then
the people who had been retrenched wouldn't have access to the school because it
would be sold to another private buyer and would become a full-fledged private
school with very high fees. Overall, there would be a high loss of income and
the inability to access necessary institutions. Then on the other hand, if
people remained employed, they still wouldn't have better conditions of service
because the clinics and schools would no longer be owned by the mines-- they'd
have to access those services at the market price offered by the new owners.
Another problem is that the new
mine owners do not take kindly to squatters, people who have settled in the past
10-20 years on land which belongs to the mine but over which there is no longer
any mining activity. Whereas the old company would have tolerated those
squatters, the new mining companies would forcefully evict them.
You've covered a lot of
territory. You've talked about loss of jobs, you've talked about communities
being evicted B they're called squatters being evicted from mining lands, you've
talked about the removal of access to health care and education from people in
their communities B to wrap up, how are you fighting this privatization?
As a church-based organisation,
we encourage research by local groups in communities. We give some basic
training for people to understand these current economic issues, so that
ordinary men and women can understand what liberalisation and privatization
mean, what has actually happened in Zambia, how the things we see in our
communities relate to the policies the country has implemented, and how they
relate to issues of global policies pushed by the WB and IMF. We believe in
increased social consciousness as a means of empowering the people, and making
our concerns known to the government and the WB and IMF. With other
international partners, we share the information in our research and the
knowledge that we have gained so far.
OK, Molima I think we'll
wrap up here, unless you have something to add that you think we've somehow
missed?
I think that one of the main
concerns Zambians feel was unfairly handled in privatizing the mines was that
the government gave huge concessions to the new companies on their electricity
bills. They knocked off a huge percentage for them, while the Zambian people are
continually paying, which means that the public is subsidising the profit-making
organisation. And this makes it easier for the companies to get away with
environmental issues. For example, some of them discharge too much sulphur
dioxide in the air, without much regard for the health effects on ordinary
people. So because of all the international pressures, donor pressures and IMF
pressures, the government is turning a blind eye to some of these public health
concerns and the social and economic rights that people should have.
Thank you for talking with
us today Molima, and good luck in all of your efforts.
Molima Kufekisa-Akapelwa is
with the Justice and Peace Centre in
Zambia
.
The
School of the
Americas-
Higher Learning for Terrorists?
By Sarah LeBaron von Baeyer
“Peace is Our
Profession”
The School of the Americas (SOA),
also referred to as the School of the Assassins, officially closed down on 15
December of the year 2000. Instead, it opened its doors to the 21st century
dawning a new name and a freshly painted mask-- that of the Western Hemisphere
Institute for Security Cooperation, or WHISC.
In the speech prepared for the
closing of the SOA, the U.S. Army school based in
Fort Bening
,
Georgia
, the Hon. Luis Caldera spoke of a “quest for peace and prosperity” in the
Western Hemisphere, as well as the
U.S.
’s “responsibility for helping to guarantee freedom throughout the world.”
The School of the
Americas
, Caldera said, was founded on the hopes of building “a world based on common
values and respect among nations.” Those present at the closing ceremonies of
the SOA, were asked to take a moment and reflect on “the long and vibrant
history of this School.”
But let us recap. The history
of the SOA is as controversial as it is long, and as violent as it is vibrant.
Established in 1946 in
Panama
, the SOA was kicked out in 1984 under terms of the Panama Canal Treaty, only to
be moved to its present location, 100 miles southwest of
Atlanta
. Each year, the SOA trains between 700 to 2000 soldiers from Latin America and
the
Caribbean
, in war tactics such as counterinsurgency operations, psychological operations,
sniper fire and military intelligence. The SOA does not screen its applicants,
allowing known human rights abusers to attend. In an article for The Guardian,
journalist George Monbiot wrote that “for the past 55 years (the SOA) has been
running a terrorist training camp.” The following statement is cited from his
article, dated October 30, 2001:
“If any government
sponsors the outlaws and killers of innocents,” George Bush announced on the
day he began bombing
Afghanistan
, “they have become outlaws and murderers themselves. And they will take that
lonely path at their own peril.” I’m glad he said “any government,” as
there’s one which, though it has yet to be identified as a sponsor of
terrorism, requires his urgent attention.”
Indeed, the School of the
Americas
, which receives its funding from the American government, has an extremely ugly
past, candy-coated in a new and prettier name. And, just as a rose by any other
name would smell as sweet, the SOA by any other name would still reek of the
bloody crimes it has fostered. Though the Canadian media hears little of this
notorious army camp, the long list of SOA graduates responsible for murder and
genocide in
Latin America
has not passed unnoticed.
The list never ceases to
unfold. In June of last year, Colonel Byron Lima Estrada, once a student at the
School of the
Americas
, was convicted in
Guatemala City
of murdering Bishop Juan Gerardi in 1998. “Gerardi was killed because he had
helped to write a report on the atrocities committed by
Guatemala
’s D-2, the military intelligence agency run by Lima Estrada with the help of
two other SOA graduates,” says Monbiot. “D-2 coordinated the
“anti-insurgency” campaign which obliterated 448 Mayan villages, and
murdered tens of thousands of their people.”
SOA graduates also include the
officers who ran Augusto Pinochet’s secret police and his three principle
concentration camps in
Chile
, Argentinian dictators Roberto Viola and Leopoldo Galtieri, and many other
militant tyrants in countries such as
Panama
,
Peru
and
Ecuador
.
But this is hardly just a
matter of the past. SOA graduates are presently involved in the dirty war being
waged, with
U.S.
support, in
Colombia
. The SOA, or WHISC as it is now called, is drawing more of its students from
Columbia
than from any other country. Since 1946, in fact, almost 9,000 Columbians have
graduated from the SOA, a higher number than from any other Latin American
country. Escalating human rights abuses in
Columbia
as well as
Mexico
have occurred hand-in-hand with increased attendance from those countries.
The FBI defines terrorism as
“violent acts... intended to intimidate or coerce a civilian population,
influence the policy of a government, or affect the conduct of a government”
which is an exact description of the activities performed by SOA graduates. Says
Monbiot, “But how can we be sure that their alma mater has had any part in
this? Well, in 1996, the
U.S.
government was forced to release seven of the school’s training manuals.
Among other top tips for terrorists, they recommended blackmail, torture,
execution and the arrest of witnesses’ relatives.” And still, human rights
and democracy remain a token part of the SOA curriculum. Most SOA students
receive only the mandatory four hours of human rights training in courses that
range from 8 days to 47 weeks.
Fortunately, the School of the
Americas
has met with organized opposition. SOA Watch ( website www.soaw.org) describes
itself as an independent organization that seeks to close the US Army School of
the
Americas
, under whatever name it is called, through vigils and fasts, demonstrations and
nonviolent protest, as well as media and legislative work. In the year 2000,
partly as a result of the campaign run by SOA Watch, several
U.S.
congressmen tried to shut the school down. They were defeated by 10 votes,
however, and the House of Representatives voted to close it and then immediately
reopen it under a different name. Paul Coverdell, the
Georgia
senator who had fought to save the school, told the papers that the changes
were “basically cosmetic.”
In November 2000, in what was a
nonviolent demonstration calling for the closure of the SOA, almost all of the
26 protestors present received a maximum sentence of six months in prison. The
demonstrators included a NASA research scientist, a former corporate executive,
and an 88-year old nun and her sister. Dorothy Hennessey and her younger sister,
Gwen, both Dubuque Franciscan peace workers from
Iowa
, were incarcerated on 17 July, 2001. On 14 January of this year, they were
released.
So, in the end, if elderly nuns
are being put in prison for voicing their disapproval of the SOA, what can be
done in the face of institutionalized terrorism? Journalist George Monbiot has
this to say:
“Well, we could urge our
governments to apply full diplomatic pressure, and to seek the extradition of
the school’s commanders for trial on charges of complicity in crimes against
humanity. Alternatively, we could demand that our governments attack the
United States
, bombing its military installations, cities and airports in the hope of
overthrowing its unelected government and replacing it with a new administration
overseen by the UN. In case this proposal proves unpopular with the American
people, we could win their hearts and minds by dropping naan bread and dried
curry in plastic bags stamped with the Afghan flag.”
PERSONAL
REFLECTIONS ON THE “WAR ON TERRORISM”
Pete
Henriot, S.J., Zambia
What do I say to add anything
meaningful to the millions of words spoken and written about the 11 September
tragedy in the
United States
and the subsequent tragedy in
Afghanistan
?
What do I say to express
condolences to the thousands who have died from the terrorism and the
retaliation?
What do I say to expose the
hurt in my heart, knowing that there are so many different strong feelings about
the attacks and the subsequent war?
What do I say, as a
USA
citizen living in
Africa
, to try to explain to friends here and back in the States my deepest opinions,
clearest thoughts, strongest emotions?
These are the questions that
have stymied me and made me so slow, so reluctant to express myself in the past
several weeks. But there are some points I’d like to make now, trying to clear
my head and calm my heart.
INSTANCES OF GRACE
The first thing to say is how
deeply touched I’ve been by the expressions of condolence and concern offered
to me by so many African friends after 11 September. I received numerous phone
calls, e-mails, cards, personal contacts. The general sentiment: “We are so
sorry that such a terrible thing could have happened in the country you come
from. We are so sad that so many innocent people died because of a terrible act
of violence.”
Human bonds of sympathy show
themselves beautifully at moments of tragedy. I believe we all experienced that grace
following 11 September.
The second thing to say is that
I was moved by the accounts of heroism and selfless service offered by fire
fighters, police, medical personnel and ordinary citizens. The stories of how
people acted in
New York
and
Washington
DC
to try to help, with courage and generosity, showed the wonderful resources of
human nature at its best. Again, real grace in action.
DISTURBING QUESTIONS
But I began to be deeply
disturbed and worried when I realised that of the three key questions to
ask about this terrible event, only the first two were being seriously addressed
in most political statements, editorial comments, even religious sentiments.
Who
has done this terrible thing? How could it have occurred? Why did
they do it? The last was almost ruled out as a proper, decent question to ask.
To wonder why some
people would be so angry, so hateful, so deranged, was even viewed by many as
tantamount to accepting the anger, the hatred, the derangement as excuses for
the terroristic act. It was as if one were not sufficiently sorrowful for the
deaths inflicted.
From a distance – since I
don’t live now in the
United States
nor do I follow closely the news from there (too many pressing and interesting
things are happening now in
Zambia
and
Africa
!) – it appeared that it was more important to hang an American flag on
one’s house than to discuss the issues surrounding this tragedy.
But certainly the greatness of
a country, like the greatness of a person, is measured not only in the ready
recognition of its great deeds but also in its honest acknowledgement of its
serious faults. To be able to point to those faults is not a sign of weakness
but of strength.
Yet in the days after 11
September, to put the obvious question of why such a terrible thing would
be done seemed to be interpreted almost as a justification for the terrible
action.
To suggest that some policies
of the United States government might have stirred anger among frustrated
people, to ask what the root causes of hatred against the United States are, to
ponder on mistakes that might have been made by United States political leaders:
this was somehow seen as “unpatriotic, “ as given support to the
“enemy,” as not feeling bad about the terrible loss of innocent lives in New
York and Washington.
FEELINGS ABOUT
USA
Just one week before 11
September, I had jotted down some ideas for an article on how the current Bush
administration in
Washington
is isolating the American people from the moral sentiments of the international
community.
My notes focused on actions
taken recently by the Bush Administration such as the withdrawal from the Kyoto
agreement on protecting the environment, walkout from the Durban conference on
racism, refusal to ratify the treaty for an international court of justice,
pull-back from the anti-ballistic missile treaty, refusal to sign the anti-land
mines treaty, rejection of calls for banning capital punishment, objections to
the cancellation of debts of the poorest countries.
Such treaties, agreements,
conferences, are not the work of fanatics, of American-haters, of persons bent
on destruction of Western civilisation. They are efforts supported by most
US
allies, by church leaders, by concerned citizens around the world and by large
portions of the American public.
Yet the current
US
government wants to distance itself from this growing consensus on the values
that should govern international relationships. But these are the very values so
necessary to the global harmony that blocks terrorism at its roots.
Poverty is not the cause of
terrorism, but it is a fertile ground for the frustrations that can lead to
terrorism, to a blind striking out at the perceived oppressors who seem
reluctant to deal with poverty and human suffering.
For reasons true or false, the
current
United States
regime is not felt by many in the poorest countries to be the leader in
reshaping a globe where poverty is less a dehumanising fact and exploitation
less a daily occurrence. Such feelings simply cannot be ignored.
AND NOW A WAR
In the midst of the aftermath
of 11 September, my fears grew about the type of response that the
US
government would mount. I heard of calls for “revenge” against any nation
giving refuge to terrorists. And one nation in particular was singled out,
Afghanistan
, since the chief suspect of the 11 November crimes was allegedly hiding there.
Afghanistan
– a tragically poor country with a tragic recent
history. A vicious war fought against its people by allies of
Russia
(the so-called “
Northern Alliance
”) destroyed most of the country’s infrastructure. The winners of the war,
supported by US policies and training (the Taliban), then systematically
destroyed the very soul of the people by religious fundamentalism of the
cruelest sort. Women in particular were victims.
And then came the announcement
of a “war against terrorism,” a “total war” of undefined length to be
fought by the
United States
and its allies against persons, networks, institutions, ideologies, countries,
that threatened to disrupt peaceful lives. Even the unfortunate phrase (later
recanted) of “crusade” was used by Mr. Bush.
“Something has to be done!”
became the cry. And that something then eventuated in the massive bombing
of targets within the already devastated country of
Afghanistan
.
This was high-technology
bombing, with laser-guided missiles supposedly pinpointing specific targets. And
it was old-fashioned carpet-bombing from B-52s, disrupting infrastructure and
military placements and scattering civilian populations throughout the country.
The effect of the bombing
campaign on the civilian population has raised serious questions of
“proportionality”: What can morally be done to capture one terrorist
leader suspected to be responsible for more than 6000 deaths?
How many innocent civilian
deaths can be accepted as “collateral damage”? How much suffering and death
can be inflicted on thousands and thousands of refugees – mostly woman and
children? What can justify denial of humanitarian aid to the innocent caught up
in this war?
To raise these questions is of
course in no way to justify the events of 11 September or to deny that some
legitimate response should be taken. But it is to search for that response
within the context of the moral imperatives of our church’s social teaching to
respect life and care for the poor.
MORAL CONSEQUENCES
What worries me very much is
the effect of this war on the future of peace in the world. Violence breeds
violence – this is an undeniable fact that we know that all too well from
history. What deep-rooted violent tendencies have been nurtured by a war that in
some circles has even taken on religious strains and been supported by analyses
of “superiority of civilisations”?
Moreover, what is the economic
impact of this war and the political actions and alliances it fosters? Already
the head of the World Bank has indicated that African countries would be the
hardest hit by the economic slump experienced after 11 September.
This means
Zambia
will experience even greater economic problems. Loss of trade income (e.g.,
from copper), increase in prices of imports (e.g., petrol), curtailment of donor
assistance, etc. Again, it is the poorest of the poor in our world who will
suffer.
PEACE-BUILDING
My own voice here has not given
new insights or offered new solutions. But simply trying to articulate what is
deepest within me and sharing it with others is for me an important task. It
offers a challenge about committing myself to peace-building, within me,
around me, and around the wider world.
I remember that Jesus said,
“Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called daughters and sons of
God.” (Matthew 5:9) He did not say, “Blessed are the peace prayers,
or the peace sayers.” I must be active, working, producing within me
and around me a peaceful situation founded on justice.
As I write this at the end of
November, it is still too early to know the ultimate outcome of the “war on
terrorism.” My fear is that without the reasoned analysis, rooted in history
and a global perspective, and without the clear viewpoint of the social teaching
of the church, something much wider and deeper than a “just war” theory, we
will not in fact build something much more important than a “war on
terrorism.”
That something much more
important is to work for a “peace with justice.”
Lusaka
20 November 2001
