President of Uganda threatens death to Protesters of Palm Oil land grab

Pres­i­dent Musev­eni of Ugan­da has joined his sup­port to Bid­co and Wilmar. call­ing for Bul­lets to be used against those who protest the Palm Oil devel­op­ment on the islands of Kalan­gala.

Pres­i­dent Musev­eni of Ugan­da has joined his sup­port to Bid­co and Wilmar. call­ing for Bul­lets to be used against those who protest the Palm Oil devel­op­ment on the islands of Kalan­gala. The devel­op­ment has meant that 10,000 heca­tres of vir­gin for­est has been destroyed leav­ing envi­ron­men­tal dam­age and eco­nom­ic hardhsip for the peo­ple. The words from Musev­eni come after a renewed protest against Bid­co began ear­li­er this year through twit­ter and Youtube. Fur­ther direct action against Vimal Shah the own­er of Bid­co is expect­ed soon.

Two Moments of Oil Railway Sabotage in Montreal

The infra­struc­tures of State and cap­i­tal con­tin­ue to spread their ten­ta­cles, seek­ing to accel­er­ate the extrac­tion and trans­porta­tion of resources to the mar­ket.

Sep­tem­ber 10th, 2015

from Anar­chist News

The infra­struc­tures of State and cap­i­tal con­tin­ue to spread their ten­ta­cles, seek­ing to accel­er­ate the extrac­tion and trans­porta­tion of resources to the mar­ket. The vast ter­ri­to­ry that is the Cana­di­an North, often sparse­ly pop­u­lat­ed due in large part to the dis­place­ment, iso­la­tion, and geno­cide of indige­nous peo­ples, is an immense source of prof­it; oil, gas, forestry, hydro-dams, ura­ni­um mines, etc. Var­i­ous mon­strous infra­struc­tur­al expan­sion projects are cur­rent­ly try­ing to con­nect the Alber­ta Tar Sands through pipelines along the St. Lawrence riv­er to the Atlantic. These projects entail expand­ing and con­struct­ing new infra­struc­ture such as ports, rail lines, and high­ways all along this route on col­o­nized ter­ri­to­ries.

We placed a cop­per wire con­nect­ing both sides of the tracks, thus send­ing a sig­nal indi­cat­ing a block­age on the tracks and dis­rupt­ing cir­cu­la­tion until the tracks were checked and cleared. This train line in par­tic­u­lar is being worked on in order to facil­i­tate the trans­port of oil east­ward to the port of Belle­dune in New Brunswick.

To block train lines, one can :
1. Obtain at least 8 feet of unin­su­lat­ed 3AWG cop­per ground wire (the kind that is used for wiring main ser­vice pan­els in a house).
2. Wrap the wire around each rail of the track, con­nect­ing both sides, and ensure good con­tact.
3. Cov­er the wire between the tracks so that it is more dif­fi­cult to detect.
4. Smile at the pos­si­bil­i­ty of caus­ing thou­sands of tonnes of train traf­fic to be dis­rupt­ed.

This sim­ple act is eas­i­ly repro­ducible, and demon­strates the vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty of their infra­struc­ture despite their sur­veil­lance tech­nolo­gies and legal appa­ra­tus intent on dulling our teeth. The recent strength­en­ing of the Cana­di­an State’s capac­i­ty for repres­sion through Bill C‑51, now law, includes leg­is­la­tion requir­ing a manda­to­ry min­i­mum sen­tenc­ing of five years for those con­vict­ed of tam­per­ing with cap­i­tal­ist infra­struc­ture. For us, this leg­is­la­tion fur­ther empha­sizes how inte­gral the func­tion­ing of ‘crit­i­cal’ infra­struc­ture is to projects of eco­log­i­cal dev­as­ta­tion (and the soci­ety that needs them), and how pow­er­ful­ly the sim­ple act of sab­o­tage can con­tribute to strug­gles against them.

We con­ceive of our strug­gle as against civ­i­liza­tion and the total­iz­ing domes­ti­ca­tion it entails; we seek noth­ing less than the destruc­tion of all forms of dom­i­na­tion. As a step in this direc­tion, we hope to con­tribute to the for­ma­tion of a spe­cif­ic strug­gle against these projects of indus­tri­al expan­sion. We want to orga­nize to com­bat these projects in ways that are decen­tral­ized and autonomous, includ­ing with con­sis­tent and wide­spread rail­road block­ades. Autonomous self-orga­niz­ing escapes a mass move­ment log­ic (to impose an agen­da through ‘mobi­liz­ing’ oth­ers while wait­ing for the ‘right’ con­di­tions to act) and the polit­i­cal recu­per­a­tion imposed by reformist envi­ron­men­tal activism. Con­ver­gences can play a cru­cial role in ini­tia­tives flour­ish­ing, but it is equal­ly cru­cial that the strug­gle against these projects does not start and end there. Let’s up the ten­sion against this world, let’s pro­lif­er­ate the attacks.

Hawaii: Eight Arrested in Protest Against Mauna Kea Telescope

Sev­en women and one man were arrest­ed ear­ly on Wednes­day in the lat­est round of arrests in the ongo­ing bat­tle against build­ing a giant tele­scope atop a moun­tain many native Hawai­ians con­sid­er sacred.

The state depart­ment of land and nat­ur­al resources said 20 of its offi­cers arrest­ed the pro­test­ers on Mau­na Kea at about 1am. They were enforc­ing an emer­gency rule cre­at­ed to stop peo­ple from camp­ing on Mau­na Kea. The land board approved the rule in July, which restricts access to the moun­tain dur­ing cer­tain night­time hours and pro­hibits cer­tain camp­ing gear. It was prompt­ed by pro­test­ers’ around-the-clock pres­ence to pre­vent con­struc­tion of the Thir­ty Meter Tele­scope.

Pro­test­ers say offi­cers hauled them away while they were pray­ing. In video footage pro­vid­ed by the state, offi­cers are seen walk­ing toward a group of peo­ple hud­dled in a cir­cle and chant­i­ng. A man’s voice is heard say­ing: “Eh, they’re pray­ing you guys, they’re pray­ing.”

The footage shows offi­cers putting plas­tic hand­cuffs on women and putting them into the back of a vehi­cle. “Why do I have to have my hands behind my back,” a woman asked. “Because you’ll be placed in restraints, ma’am,” an offi­cer respond­ed.

The emer­gency rule, in place for 120 days, is intend­ed to make the moun­tain safe for pro­test­ers, vis­i­tors and work­ers of the 13 tele­scopes already on the moun­tain, the state said. Attor­ney gen­er­al Doug Chin told the land board that even though camp­ing is already pro­hib­it­ed on the moun­tain, a tar­get­ed rule is nec­es­sary because of bad behav­ior by some pro­test­ers – rang­ing from putting boul­ders in the road to threats and harass­ment – cre­at­ed unsafe con­di­tions.

The non­prof­it com­pa­ny build­ing the Thir­ty Meter Tele­scope hasn’t indi­cat­ed when there will be anoth­er attempt to resume con­struc­tion. Work­ers weren’t able reach the site dur­ing two pre­vi­ous attempts when they were blocked by hun­dreds of pro­test­ers, includ­ing dozens who were arrest­ed.

This was the fourth time tele­scope oppo­nents have been arrest­ed on the moun­tain.

Uni­ver­si­ty of Hawaii law school pro­fes­sor Williamson Chang has filed a law­suit seek­ing to repeal the rule, argu­ing it pre­vents tele­scope oppo­nents from legal­ly exer­cis­ing their rights to peace­ful­ly protest.

The Ka’apor of Brazil Use Bows, Arrows, Sabotage and GPS to Defend the Amazon from Logging

With bows, arrows, GPS track­ers and cam­era traps, an indige­nous com­mu­ni­ty in north­ern Brazil is fight­ing to achieve what the gov­ern­ment has long failed to do: halt ille­gal log­ging in their cor­ner of the Ama­zon.

Sep­tem­ber 10th, 2015

With bows, arrows, GPS track­ers and cam­era traps, an indige­nous com­mu­ni­ty in north­ern Brazil is fight­ing to achieve what the gov­ern­ment has long failed to do: halt ille­gal log­ging in their cor­ner of the Ama­zon.

The Ka’apor – a tribe of about 2,200 peo­ple in Maran­hão state – have organ­ised a mili­tia of “for­est guardians” who fol­low a strat­e­gy of nature con­ser­va­tion through aggres­sive con­fronta­tion.

Log­ging trucks and trac­tors that encroach upon their ter­ri­to­ry – the 530,000-hectare Alto Turi­açu Indige­nous Land – are inter­cept­ed and burned. Dri­vers and chain­saw oper­a­tors are warned nev­er to return. Those that fail to heed the advice are stripped and beat­en.

It is dan­ger­ous work. Since the tribe decid­ed to man­age their own pro­tec­tion in 2011, they say the theft of tim­ber has been reduced, but four Ka’apor have been mur­dered and more than a dozen oth­ers have received death threats.

Now the Ka’apor are seek­ing sup­port through NGOs and the media. Ear­li­er this month, the Guardian was among a first group of for­eign jour­nal­ists and Green­peace activists who were invit­ed to see how they live and oper­ate.

kapoor map

Reach­ing their land was a long haul. After fly­ing to São Luis, the cap­i­tal of Maran­hão state, it took more than eight hours to dri­ve along a pot­holed high­way flanked by cat­tle farms and palm plan­ta­tions before turn­ing off on to a bumpy dirt track through tracts of defor­est­ed land, until a dense thick­et of jun­gle marked the lim­it of Ka’apor ter­ri­to­ry.

The path was so close to the foliage here that branch­es con­stant­ly scratched and scraped the sides of our 4×4 until final­ly, just a few min­utes before mid­night, we emerged into a clear­ing bathed in moon­light.

This was Jax­ipuxiren­da, one of eight for­mer log­ging camps that have been tak­en over by the Ka’apor and set­tled by a hand­ful of fam­i­lies so the tim­ber thieves can­not return. It was very sim­ple; six thatched roofs under which fam­i­lies slept in ham­mocks.

Liv­ing in such out­posts is a sac­ri­fice. Longer-estab­lished vil­lages have elec­tric­i­ty, health cen­tres, foot­ball pitch­es and satel­lite dish­es. Jax­ipuxiren­da is bereft of such crea­ture com­forts.

But it is a key part of a dri­ve to regain ter­ri­to­ry, inde­pen­dence and respect – all of which have been steadi­ly erod­ed by log­gers for more than two decades. Alto Turi­açu, which cov­ers an area equal to Delaware or three times that of Greater Lon­don, is a vul­ner­a­ble and lucra­tive tar­get. Although 8% has already been cleared, the indige­nous land con­tains about half of the Ama­zon for­est left in Maran­hão state. This includes much sought-after trees, like ipê (Brazil­ian wal­nut), which can fetch almost £1,000 ($1,500) per cubic metre after pro­cess­ing and export.

Kaapor indians
Ka’apor Indi­ans set­ting up trap cam­eras in areas used by ille­gal log­gers to invade the indige­nous ter­ri­to­ry. Pho­to­graph: Lunae Parracho/Greenpeace

 

The Ka’apor asked the gov­ern­ment to pro­tect their bor­ders, which were recog­nised in 1982. Last year, a fed­er­al court ordered the author­i­ties to set up secu­ri­ty posts. But noth­ing has been done, prompt­ing the com­mu­ni­ty to organ­ise self-defence mis­sions.

In the morn­ing, one of the for­est guardians, Tid­i­un Ka’apor (who, like all of the lead­ers of the group, asked to have his name changed to avoid being tar­get­ed by log­gers) explains what hap­pens when they encounter log­gers.

“Some­times, it’s like a film. They fight us with machetes, but we always dri­ve them off,” he says. “We tell them, ‘We’re not like you. We don’t steal your cows so don’t steal our trees.”

The main weapons used by the Ka’apor are bows and arrows and bor­duna – a heavy sword-shaped baton. One of the group also owns a rusty old rifle. Most­ly though, they depend on greater num­bers.

Tid­i­un Ka’apor takes us to a charred truck and trac­tor that the group burned in a con­fronta­tion a lit­tle over a week ear­li­er and uses the ash­es to paint his face. “This gives us strength,” one of his asso­ciates says. The Ka’apor are thought to have set fire to about a dozen log­gers’ vehi­cles. Fur­ther along the road, they build a pyre of planks seized inside their land, douse it with gaso­line and then watch it burn.

Anoth­er of the group’s lead­ers Miraté Ka’apor says the use of vio­lence – which has result­ed in some bro­ken bones but no deaths among the log­gers – is jus­ti­fied. “The log­gers come here to steal from us. So, they deserve what they get. We have to make them feel our loss – the loss of our tim­ber, the destruc­tion of our for­est.”

Com­pared with the past, he said the mis­sions were effec­tive. “Our strug­gle is hav­ing results because the log­gers respect us now.”

But the log­gers also appear to be respond­ing with lethal force. On 26 April, a for­mer chief­tain, Eusébio Ka’apor was mur­dered by gun­men on his way back from a vis­it to his broth­er. Like most killings of indige­nous peo­ple and envi­ron­men­tal activists in Brazil, the crime has not been solved, but the dead man’s son has lit­tle doubt who is respon­si­ble and what they were try­ing to achieve.

Ka'apor 3
Ka’apor Indi­ans stand next to a log­ging trac­tor that they dis­cov­ered and set on fire inside the indige­nous ter­ri­to­ry one month before. Pho­to­graph: Lunae Parracho/Greenpeace

“He was a tar­get because [the log­gers] thought he was the main leader of the group,” said Iraun Ka’apor. “They thought the Ka’apor would stop if they killed him. But we will con­tin­ue with our work of pro­tec­tion. I’m not afraid. This is my home, my land, my for­est.”

Ten days before we arrived, Iraun received a death threat and was told that the bul­let that killed his father had been meant for him.

The author­i­ties in Maran­hão – the poor­est state in Brazil – warn the Ka’apor that although they are with­in their rights to pro­tect their land, it is ulti­mate­ly up to the state to resolve dis­putes over ter­ri­to­ry.

“The involve­ment of the Ka’apor in the defence of their ter­ri­to­ry against the log­gers should be under­stood as legit­i­mate defence, since the action of the log­gers puts their sur­vival at risk,” said Alexan­dre Sil­va Sarai­va, region­al super­in­ten­dent of the fed­er­al police. “But the pres­ence of the state is the only way to dimin­ish the agrar­i­an con­flicts and reduce homi­cides.”

Inside Alto Turi­açu, peo­ple are scep­ti­cal that the police and gov­ern­ment are will­ing to look after indige­nous inter­ests. Last year 70 Indi­ans were mur­dered in Brazil, a 32% increase on 2013, accord­ing to the Mis­sion­ary Indige­nous Coun­cil. In many cas­es the killings were relat­ed to land dis­putes with log­gers or ranch­ers. In their com­mu­ni­ty gath­er­ing, many Ka’apor expressed the belief that the author­i­ties were col­lud­ing in the sell-off of the for­est.

“We are very con­cerned,” Miraté says. “Even the local author­i­ties are involved. They grant licences to the sawmills and that encour­ages the log­gers. The way the bran­cos [white or non-indige­nous peo­ple] are organ­ised also pro­motes death. They make a prof­it from this.”

Gov­ern­ment offi­cials pre­fer to focus on the pos­i­tives: the slow­down in Ama­zon­ian defor­esta­tion rates over the past 10 years (though in Maranhão’s case this is large­ly because there is so lit­tle for­est left) and the progress made in bring­ing cul­prits to jus­tice. This year, pros­e­cu­tors in neigh­bour­ing Pará state have bro­ken up an ille­gal land-clear­ance ring and arrest­ed cor­rupt offi­cials in tim­ber-laun­der­ing syn­di­cates that sup­ply fake cer­ti­fi­ca­tion to log­gers. Else­where, satel­lite mon­i­tor­ing has helped to iden­ti­fy which landown­ers are tear­ing down or burn­ing the most trees, though this approach is of less use when it comes to the steady degrad­ing of the forests by inva­sive log­gers.

Pedro Leão, super­in­ten­dent for Iba­ma (Brazil­ian Insti­tute of the Envi­ron­ment and Renew­able Nat­ur­al Resources) insists his agency is already com­bat­ing the crim­i­nal organ­i­sa­tions behind ille­gal log­ging and cau­tions that it is “extreme­ly risky” for the Ka’apor to do the same. He said he hoped Iba­ma could make greater strides in the future by focus­ing on sawmills and pos­si­bly using GPS track­ers.

These are already areas where the Ka’apor are active. Dur­ing this month’s vis­it, Green­peace – which also helped the Guardian to reach the area – pro­vid­ed the com­mu­ni­ty with 11 cam­era traps, 11 GPS track­ers and two com­put­ers, worth a total of 20,000 reais (£3,480/$5,260).

Ka'apor image 5
A Ka’apor Indi­an sets up a trap cam­era in an area used by ille­gal log­gers. Pho­to­graph: Lunae Parracho/Greenpeace

Mari­na Lacorte, a for­est cam­paign­er with Green­peace Brazil, said the devices – which are usu­al­ly used to cap­ture wild ani­mals on film – were intend­ed to enhance the Ka’apor’s suc­cess in dimin­ish­ing ille­gal log­ging. “With the cam­eras, we hope to prove that at a cer­tain time and date in a cer­tain place, the trucks arrived emp­ty and left with tim­ber. We hope the devices can pro­duce more evi­dence to per­suade the author­i­ties to do some­thing to stop the log­ging and the con­flict and the mur­der.”

For many con­ser­va­tion­ists, the sig­nif­i­cance of the Ka’apor’s actions goes beyond their par­tic­u­lar case and puts them on the front­line of the bat­tle against cli­mate change. Brazil, like oth­er Ama­zon­ian coun­tries, has strug­gled to tack­le defor­esta­tion part­ly because envi­ron­men­tal author­i­ties are con­stant­ly out­num­bered and out­gunned by log­gers, ranch­ers and farm­ers.

Iba­ma – the main agency ded­i­cat­ed to pro­tect­ing the for­est – has about 1,500 rangers to mon­i­tor the Brazil­ian Ama­zon, an area that is more than half the size of the US. Many of them have mixed feel­ings about land clear­ance. Some are even in the pay of log­gers, as recent scan­dals have revealed.

By con­trast, indige­nous groups like the Ka’apor have the incen­tive and the man­pow­er on the ground to resist the dec­i­ma­tion of their forests. For them, this is not just a job, but a mat­ter of iden­ti­ty and sur­vival. The ben­e­fits can be glob­al. In a recent report, the World Resources Insti­tute not­ed that when indige­nous peo­ple have weak legal rights, their forests tend to become the source of car­bon diox­ide emis­sions, while those in a strong posi­tion are more like­ly to main­tain or even improve their forests’ car­bon stor­age. Under­lin­ing this, a research paper pub­lished last month in Sci­ence, notes that for­est dwellers are the best defence against log­ging and land clear­ance.

The dan­ger is that such groups might become involved in a proxy war against emis­sions with­out the tech­nol­o­gy, the fire­pow­er or the legal author­i­ty to over­come more pow­er­ful oppo­nents. But Miraté said the com­mu­ni­ty would pick and choose how and when to get involved.

“It’s not that we don’t under­stand tech­nol­o­gy. We can dri­ve cars and motor­bikes and we can use com­put­ers. But we want to do things our way, the Ka’apor way,” he said.

Ka'apor image 6
Ka’apor Indi­ans have occu­pied a site for­mer­ly used by ille­gal log­gers. Pho­to­graph: Jonathan Watts for the Guardian

The log­gers are not the only threat to the tribe’s sur­vival. Pre­vi­ous bat­tles with the author­i­ties and the spread of dis­eases brought in by out­siders reduced the pop­u­la­tion – which once stood at sev­er­al thou­sand – to lit­tle more than 500 at the low point in 1982. The com­mu­ni­ty has since rebound­ed – large­ly thanks to the recog­ni­tion of its ter­ri­to­ry – and it con­tin­ues to assert its cul­tur­al iden­ti­ty on a vari­ety of fronts.

While many oth­er indige­nous groups are plagued by alco­holism, the Ka’apor recent­ly intro­duced a ban on con­sump­tion of beer and spir­its (as well as vis­its by Chris­t­ian evan­ge­lists and polit­i­cal cam­paign­ers). If a mem­ber vio­lates the rule once, he gets a warn­ing; twice, he must face a full meet­ing of the tribe; three times and he is sen­tenced to work in the near­by town. In their rela­tions with the gov­ern­ment, the tribe insist­ed last year on being rep­re­sent­ed by a mem­ber of their own com­mu­ni­ty rather than a bureau­crat from Funai (the Nation­al Indi­an Foun­da­tion). They have also moved away from what they say is a Funai-led sys­tem of hav­ing a sin­gle vil­lage chief and instead revert­ed towards col­lec­tive lead­er­ship.

In edu­ca­tion, they have ensured that their chil­dren are taught entire­ly in Ka’apor rather than Por­tuguese until the age of 10. Most cre­ative­ly, they also recent­ly cod­i­fied their own cal­en­dar, which pri­ori­tis­es plant­i­ng, har­vest­ing and mat­ing sea­sons, as an alter­na­tive to the solar-based Gre­go­ri­an sys­tem. While they occa­sion­al­ly shop for rice, the Ka’apor says they are large­ly self-suf­fi­cient with crops of man­ioc, bananas, pump­kin and water­mel­on. They also raise chick­ens, and hunt wild boar, deer, capy­bara and par­rots – though only in cer­tain sea­sons to ensure wild pop­u­la­tions remain strong.

But Miraté fears the author­i­ties in Brasília are more con­cerned about the country’s non-indige­nous pop­u­la­tion and the pres­sure of a glob­al econ­o­my.

“We believe that what the Brazil­ian gov­ern­ment is doing now is wrong. They are fol­low­ing a pol­i­cy to fin­ish off the indige­nous peo­ple,” he warns. But “we want to do things our own way, to respect our own cul­ture. That’s the only way to sur­vive.”

by Jonathan Watts / The Guardian

Peru: Achuar Indigenous People Seize 11 Oil Wells Demanding Spill Clean Up

The Achuar com­mu­ni­ties say for­eign oil com­pa­nies pol­lute their lands and clean water and are demand­ing com­pen­sa­tion.

The Achuar Indige­nous peo­ple are fed up with the pol­lu­tion left behind by
for­eign oil com­pa­nies.

Sep­tem­ber 9th, 2015

The Achuar com­mu­ni­ties say for­eign oil com­pa­nies pol­lute their lands and clean water and are demand­ing com­pen­sa­tion.

Peru­vian Indige­nous pro­test­ers seized oil wells in an Ama­zon­ian oil block Tues­day to press the gov­ern­ment to respond to demands for com­pen­sa­tion due to the pol­lu­tion caused by the petro­le­um oper­a­tions. The pro­test­ers from the Achuar Indige­nous com­mu­ni­ties said they also plan to halt out­put in a near­by con­ces­sion.

The Indige­nous demon­stra­tors shut down 11 wells and took con­trol of an air­drome in oil block 8 to demand clean water, repa­ra­tions for oil pol­lu­tion and more pay for the use of native land, said Car­los San­di, chief of the Indige­nous fed­er­a­tion Fecona­co. Achuar leader Car­los San­di observes the dam­age left behind by extrac­tion­ist oil com­pa­nies.

Pho­to: Rena­to Pita/ PUINAMUDT Argen­tine ener­gy com­pa­ny Plus­petrol oper­ates block 8 and said dai­ly out­put of about 8,500 bar­rels per day had stopped.

The firm called on pro­test­ers in block 8 to seek dia­logue. “So far, how­ev­er, they insist on hold­ing con­trol of instal­la­tions,” Plus­petrol said in a state­ment.

San­di said the Achuar in oil block 192 would also soon seize wells there fol­low­ing a dis­pute with the gov­ern­ment over pro­ceeds for com­mu­ni­ties in a new con­tract award­ed to the Cana­di­an com­pa­ny Pacif­ic Explo­ration and Pro­duc­tion Cor­po­ra­tion. Both oil blocks are in Peru’s north­ern region of Lore­to.

“The deci­sion (to seize wells) has been made, we just need to wrap up some coor­di­na­tion,” San­di said.

Peru signed a last-minute deal with Pacif­ic for the rights to tap oil block 192 for the next two years after an open auc­tion for a 30-year con­tract failed to draw any bids last month.

The gov­ern­ment includ­ed ben­e­fits for some Indige­nous com­mu­ni­ties in the new con­tract but a stale­mate with oth­ers over their share of oil prof­its left many out. Rep­re­sen­ta­tives of Pacif­ic could not be reached out­side of reg­u­lar busi­ness hours.

Block 192’s oper­a­tions have been halt­ed on var­i­ous occa­sions in recent years. The pro­test­ers have demand­ed the gov­ern­ment clean up oil spills and give them more com­pen­sa­tion.

Peru has declared sev­er­al envi­ron­men­tal emer­gen­cies there because of oil pol­lu­tion. The Latin Amer­i­can coun­try is rife with con­flicts over min­ing and ener­gy projects.

Ear­li­er on Tues­day, an assem­bly of social orga­ni­za­tions in the Ama­zon­ian region of Lore­to vot­ed to car­ry out anoth­er 48-hour strike start­ing Fri­day to protest the government’s pri­va­ti­za­tion move to allo­cate an oil lot to the Cana­di­an com­pa­ny for two years instead of the country’s state-owned com­pa­ny.

Lot 192 is the source of 17 per­cent of the nation­al crude pro­duc­tion. The region’s pres­i­dent of Patri­ot­ic Front Ameri­co Menen­dez said the Cana­di­an oil firm is a “mafia com­pa­ny,” say­ing that for exam­ple in Colom­bia they hire gun­men to deal with social lead­ers who oppose exploita­tion.

Nev­er­the­less, he added, the assem­bly also vot­ed in favor of main­tain­ing the talks with the gov­ern­ment, in order to nego­ti­ate var­i­ous demands, includ­ing the cre­ation of a com­pen­sa­tion fund of about US$112 mil­lion, in addi­tion to an inver­sion of around US$625 mil­lion in the area.

In Colom­bia, Pacif­ic Stra­tus Ener­gy alleged­ly hires killers against social lead­ers who oppose the exploita­tion, claimed Pres­i­dent of Fed­er­a­tion of Native Com­mu­ni­ties from the Riv­er Tigre Fer­nan­do Chu­je.

Min­is­ter of Min­ing and Ener­gy Rosa Maria Ortiz has indi­cat­ed that the state com­pa­ny PetroPe­ru will start a process of restruc­tur­ing and mod­ern­iza­tion in the next 270 days to pre­pare it to com­pete against the Cana­di­an com­pa­ny in two years, when the con­ces­sion ends.

Lot 192 is com­prised of areas inhab­it­ed by the com­mu­ni­ties of the riv­er basins of Pas­taza, Tigre, and Cor­ri­entes.

The lead­ers of the Apus Indige­nous peo­ple in the area have been protest­ing for years, demand­ing respect for their peo­ple and repa­ra­tions for envi­ron­men­tal destruc­tion caused by oil com­pa­nies.

Activist’s 75th Birthday Party Disrupts Spectra Pipeline Construction in CT

August 20th, 2015

NORTH WINDHAM, CT: In cel­e­bra­tion of his 75th birth­day today, Mid­dle­town res­i­dent Vic Lan­cia locked him­self to two giant “birth­day cakes”—actually con­crete-filled bar­rels dec­o­rat­ed with can­dles and frost­ing— on the sole road lead­ing up to a site where Spec­tra Ener­gy stores con­struc­tion equip­ment and mate­ri­als for use across Con­necti­cut. Fed­er­al Ener­gy Reg­u­la­to­ry Com­mis­sion reports post­ed at capitalismvsclimate.org con­firm what local res­i­dents have seen: Spec­tra trucks reg­u­lar­ly using the facil­i­ty to expand frack­ing infra­struc­ture.

By block­ing Spec­tra work­ers from access­ing the site, Vic aimed to dis­rupt Spectra’s ongo­ing con­struc­tion of it’s “AIM Project”, a bil­lion dol­lar fracked-gas pipeline expan­sion affect­ing com­mu­ni­ties across the State.

“It’s sim­ple,” Vic explained. “Cap­i­tal­ism and the burn­ing of fos­sil fuels are destroy­ing our beloved and beau­ti­ful plan­et, the habi­tat for all human­i­ty and life, all for prof­it and con­ve­nience. Isn’t it time to resist? Do we not care for our chil­dren, the gen­er­a­tions beyond our lives, and for life itself?”

After block­ing the entrance to the site for over two hours – Vic nego­ti­at­ed with the police and unlocked. Vic wasn’t arrest­ed and we got to keep the con­crete “birth­day cakes”.

Vic is a mem­ber of Cap­i­tal­ism vs. the Cli­mate, a hor­i­zon­tal­ly-orga­nized, Con­necti­cut-based group that takes direct action against the root caus­es of the cli­mate cri­sis. About ten oth­er mem­bers and sup­port­ers joined Vic, shar­ing choco­late cake and wav­ing bal­loons. Beneath the fes­tiv­i­ties, how­ev­er, they expressed out­rage at Spectra’s pipeline expan­sion.

“Spectra’s pipeline expan­sion is cat­a­stroph­ic in many ways. It cre­ates incen­tives for frack­ing in the shale fields. It trans­ports high­ly flam­ma­ble gas just one-hun­dred feet from a nuclear pow­er plant in New York, poten­tial­ly endan­ger­ing tens of mil­lions of peo­ple. It accel­er­ates glob­al warm­ing, since fracked gas has an even high­er impact on the cli­mate than coal does,” said Willi­man­tic res­i­dent Roger Ben­ham.

Click here to make dona­tions to sup­port the action.

Please share the Face­book “meme” at: http://on.fb.me/1WGLJFV

 

Turkish Army Burns Down Forests in Kurdistan – Call for an International Delegation!

With the restart of the war in North-Kur­dis­tan by Turk­ish state in end of July 2015 the Turk­ish Army has start­ed to burn down forests.

With the restart of the war in North-Kur­dis­tan by Turk­ish state in end of July 2015 the Turk­ish Army has start­ed to burn down forests. After 2,5 years of nego­ti­a­tions about the start of a peace process between the Turk­ish gov­ern­ment and the Kur­dish Free­dom Move­ment, the Turk­ish side decid­ed to attack the PKK Guer­ril­la HPG (Peo­ples Defense Forces) and legal polit­i­cal activists.

In a planned and sys­tem­at­ic man­ner the Turk­ish Army shoots with muni­tion and bombs which result in for­est fires. Par­tic­u­lar­ly in the provinces of Der­sim (Tunceli), Sirnex (Şır­nak) and Amed (Diyarbakır) the Army has burned down sev­er­al eco­log­i­cal­ly high­ly sen­si­tive forests in its oper­a­tions against the HPG. There­by the Turk­ish Army hopes to lim­it the mobil­i­ty of HPG. This method in fight­ing the long-last­ing Kur­dish rebel­lion has been used wide­ly already in the 90’s in North-Kur­dis­tan. Almost every greater for­est in the con­test­ed regions has been burned down in that years.

The most for­est fires have been ini­ti­at­ed in areas which have been declared by the Turk­ish gov­ern­ment as “secu­ri­ty areas” just after the restart of the war. That is why local peo­ple and activists – like from our move­ment – have been hin­dered by the Turk­ish Army to go to the affect­ed areas and try to extin­guish the fires. These ini­tia­tives have been cre­at­ed while the respon­si­ble gov­ern­men­tal bod­ies did not act. We assume that they have been instruct­ed by the gov­ern­ment not to inter­vene. To date sev­er­al hun­dred hectares of forests have been burnt down in North-Kur­dis­tan where the main tree type is the oak.

We call on the inter­na­tion­al polit­i­cal activists, social move­ments and NGO’s work­ing on eco­log­i­cal issues to join an inter­na­tion­al del­e­ga­tion. This del­e­ga­tion could inves­ti­gate the dimen­sion and impacts of the for­est fires of the last weeks, the sub­se­quent behav­ior of Turk­ish offi­cials, the efforts of locals to extin­guish the fires and if exist­ing the ongo­ing fires and inform the inter­na­tion­al pub­lic based on their obser­va­tions. We think that the extreme­ly destruc­tive behav­ior of the Turk­ish State in this dirty war must be treat­ed also on inter­na­tion­al lev­el. The peri­od for the inter­na­tion­al del­e­ga­tion is planned from the 8th to the 12th Sep­tem­ber 2015. Write us in case of inter­est.

Ercan Aybo­ga
for the Mesopotami­an Ecol­o­gy Move­ment

Con­tact:
email: e.ayboga@gmx.net
fb: www.facebook.com/mezopotamyaekolojihareketi

Sources about the fires:
Al-Mon­i­tor, 21.07.2015: http://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2015/07/turkey-kurds-pkk-forest-fires-cause-political-mayhem.html
Firat News Agency, 05.08.2015: http://en.firatajans.com/kurdistan/forest-fires-caused-by-turkish-army-expand
Kur­dish Dai­ly News, 09.08.2015: http://kurdishdailynews.org/2015/08/09/forest-fires-caused-by-turkish-airstrikes-in-zap-and-xakurke/

Flood the System Organising Booklet is Now Available to Print or Download

Click here to down­load the Flood the Sys­tem organ­is­ing book­let! This 35 page book­let has every­thing you need to know about organ­is­ing an event to #Flood­TheSys­tem.

Click here for the same book­let as above, but set up so when you print it front/back, you can fold it into a book­let.

We envi­sion Flood the Sys­tem as a step towards build­ing the DNA of a robust move­ment that has the col­lec­tive pow­er to chal­lenge glob­al cap­i­tal­ism, racism, patri­archy, and oppres­sion.

This book­let is designed to give you a sense of why we need to esca­late, what Flood the Sys­tem might look like, and what struc­tures we will all use to orga­nize.

The authors drew inspi­ra­tion for this book­let from the 1986 Pledge of Resis­tance Hand­book, the 1999 WTO Direct Action Pack­et and the 2014 Fer­gu­son Action Coun­cil Book­let.

Innu Blockade Hydro-Quebec Construction in Northern Quebec

pho­to thanks to War­rior Pub­li­ca­tions

July 17th, 2015

Quebec’s Min­is­ter of Abo­rig­i­nal Affairs is urg­ing mem­bers of Natashquan’s Innu Com­mu­ni­ty to stop their block­ade near the La Romaine con­struc­tion site.

The group of pro­test­ers set up a bar­ri­cade Thurs­day near Havre-Saint-Pierre in east­ern Que­bec, about 200 kilo­me­tres east of Sept-Îles.

It says Hydro-Québec is not respect­ing an agree­ment it signed with the com­mu­ni­ty before work on the hydro­elec­tric project began.

The pro­test­ers have been let­ting work­ers out of the site, but they say they will not let any­one in until Pre­mier Philippe Couil­lard speaks with them in per­son on the North Shore.

Rodrigue Wapis­tan, the chief of Natashquan’s Innu band coun­cil, said Hydro-Québec has flood­ed basins near the work­site with­out the community’s con­sent.

He said that will drown more than half the trees in the area.

“They have com­plete­ly tram­pled on our rights. It is some­thing that is unac­cept­able in my book — all while cre­at­ing a sit­u­a­tion that is cat­a­stroph­ic for our next gen­er­a­tion,” Wapis­tan said.

Abo­rig­i­nal Affairs Min­is­ter Geoff Kel­ley said he recog­nis­es there are dif­fer­ences between the Innu com­mu­ni­ty and Hydro-Québec, but said pro­test­ers should try to resolve its issues through nego­ti­a­tions.

from CBC News

Panama: Indigenous Activists Block Entry to the Barro Blanco Hydro Dam

Ngäbe activists stand­ing in front of the Bar­ro Blan­co dam site

Ngäbe activists stand­ing in front of the Bar­ro Blan­co dam site (Pho­to Jen­nifer Kennedy)

July 14th, 2015

A 30-strong splin­ter group of Ngäbe from the M10 resis­tance move­ment has blocked the entrance to the Bar­ro Blan­co hydro­elec­tric dam in west­ern Pana­ma, pre­vent­ing work­ers from enter­ing the site. The 15 year strug­gle of the Tabasará riv­er com­mu­ni­ties to pro­tect their liveli­hoods, their cul­ture, and their ances­tral her­itage now appears to be enter­ing a tense new phase. With nego­ti­a­tions exhaust­ed and the dam 95% com­plete, M10 has an issued an ulti­ma­tum for the gov­ern­ment to can­cel the project by Mon­day, June 15, 2015. It is unclear how the gov­ern­ment will respond.

“Being Ngäbe-Buglé cul­tur­al pat­ri­mo­ny,” said Clementi­na Pérez, part of the group camped at Bar­ro Blanco’s gates. “Our riv­er, our moth­er earth, our ecol­o­gy, our exis­tence, we are here to make known to the nation­al and inter­na­tion­al com­mu­ni­ty that this pat­ri­mo­ny belongs to us and to the church of Mama Tata. With the con­ser­va­tion of peace, lib­er­ty, jus­tice and uni­ty, lib­er­a­tion and social jus­tice… [we ask] the Pres­i­dent of the Repub­lic the can­cel­la­tion and removal of the dam from our com­mu­ni­ties, our riv­er and our moth­er earth, which belong to us as orig­i­nal peo­ple of the Americas…”Funded by Euro­pean banks – the Ger­man Invest­ment Cor­po­ra­tion (DEG) and the Dutch Devel­op­ment Bank (FMO) – the dam is set to inun­date a string of Ngäbe and campesino com­mu­ni­ties, all of whom have voiced their objec­tions from the out­set. The flood will destroy ances­tral pet­ro­glyphs, fer­tile agri­cul­tur­al grounds, and Mama Tata cul­tur­al cen­tres, includ­ing a unique school where the emerg­ing writ­ten script of the Ngäbere lan­guage is being devel­oped and dis­sem­i­nat­ed. The dam will sig­nif­i­cant­ly impact the river’s marine life, wip­ing out migra­to­ry fish species which many com­mu­ni­ties – both up and down stream – rely upon for essen­tial pro­tein. None of the Tabasará com­mu­ni­ties have pro­vid­ed their free, informed and pri­or con­sent to the dam, a fact recent­ly con­firmed by the FMO’s own inde­pen­dent com­plaints mech­a­nism (ICM).

“Lenders should have sought greater clar­i­ty on whether there was con­sent to the project from the appro­pri­ate indige­nous author­i­ties pri­or to project approval,” said an ICM report, pub­lished on May 29, 2015. “[The plan] con­tains no pro­vi­sion on land acqui­si­tion and reset­tle­ment and noth­ing on bio­di­ver­si­ty and nat­ur­al resources man­age­ment. Nei­ther does it con­tain any ref­er­ence to issues relat­ed to cul­tur­al her­itage…”

The report is the lat­est in a series of pro­fes­sion­al analy­ses that pour a thick lay­er of scorn over the dam project’s own­er, Gen­er­ado­ra del Ist­mo (GENISA). Demon­stra­bly unlaw­ful, GENISA has been con­demned by numer­ous inde­pen­dent inves­ti­ga­tors, the Unit­ed Nations, sev­er­al inter­na­tion­al NGOs, and Panama’s own envi­ron­men­tal agency, ANAM, who found a raft of flaws and short-com­ings in their envi­ron­men­tal impact assess­ment.

But despite fail­ing their own due dili­gence, the banks appear to have shrugged off the ICM report with an insipid call for ‘con­struc­tive dia­logue’ and ‘a solu­tion for a way for­ward’. In Feb­ru­ary this year, the FMO chose to threat­en the gov­ern­ment of Pana­ma after build­ing work was tem­porar­i­ly sus­pend­ed on the rec­om­men­da­tion of ANAM. Writ­ing to the Vice Pres­i­dent, the FMO warned that the sus­pen­sion “May weigh upon future invest­ment deci­sions, and harm the flow of long-term invest­ments into Pana­ma.”

The gov­ern­ment seems to have tak­en this threat to heart. Panama’s pres­i­dent, Juan Car­los Varela, who was elect­ed to office in 2014, flip-flopped on Bar­ro Blan­co before final­ly falling in line. Last week, while prof­fer­ing flim­sy reas­sur­ances about hav­ing found a human rights solu­tion, his gov­ern­ment left the nego­ti­at­ing table and sig­naled an end to the sus­pen­sion of works. M10 claims the work nev­er stopped and has been con­tin­u­ing clan­des­tine­ly. They are now mobil­is­ing for action.

Clementi­na Perez (Pho­to: Oscar Sogan­dares)

“If this sit­u­a­tion is not resolved,” said Clementi­na Pérez, “We will go to the Panamer­i­can high­way to ask togeth­er, at a nation­al lev­el, the can­cel­la­tion of Bar­ro Blan­co…”

Ris­ing with stark grey walls above the denud­ed banks of the Tabasará, Bar­ro Blan­co has become a sym­bol of the pre­vi­ous admin­is­tra­tion, its fun­da­men­tal vio­lence and con­tempt for the rule of law. The for­mer Pres­i­dent Ricar­do Mar­tinel­li – now on the run in the Unit­ed States and fac­ing a cor­rup­tion probe back home – pro­voked no less than four major upris­ings as he grasped for land and resources in Panama’s indige­nous ter­ri­to­ries. Heavy-hand­ed repres­sion result­ed in the deaths of sev­er­al pro­test­ers and bystanders, includ­ing an unarmed teenage boy who was shot in the face by police. Bar­ro Blan­co is the vis­i­ble lega­cy of a proud­ly thug­gish Pres­i­dent who seri­al­ly abused Panama’s Indige­nous Peo­ples and plun­dered the coun­try at will. Thus far, Varela has been keen to strike a more decent and humane tone. How he now han­dles the cri­sis evolv­ing on the banks of the Tabasará Riv­er will be a demon­stra­tion of his sin­cer­i­ty, or lack of.

by  IC Mag­a­zine