Category Archives: Diversification

Awaking to normality, an antidote for market control

Awaking to normality, an antidote for market control

René Mendoza Vidaurre[1]

“I am fine”, he says, while in the jaws of an alligator. Popular saying.

Every cloud has its silver lining. Old saying.

The parable of the “boiling frog” says that if we put a frog in a pot of boiling water, the frog will immediately jump out of the pot; on the other hand, if we put the frog in temperature that is low, and do not scare it, the frog will remain there; if we then increase the temperature, the frog will not do anything; the more the temperature increases, the more dazed the frog remains, and even though there is nothing keeping him from getting out of the pot, it will not leave; and ends up being boiled. Organizations (members and organizations) tend to be like the frog, in the face of sudden events (coups, electoral results, unpopular decrees) they react and take to the streets; while in the face of a gradual dispossession of their resources and even their own organizations, they tend to adapt, some even enjoy appearing to be victims, and when they realize it, they are already “boiled” like the frog.

In this article we present one of those organizations, the La Voz Cooperative, located in the municipality of San Juan La Laguna (in the Lake Atitlán basin), Sololá Province, Guatemala. We studied their process of awakening, and then, so that they might continuously keep themselves awake, and at the same time contribute to a formation with justice, we suggest an important collaboration between the cooperatives and the universities.

In 12 years they had completely “flipped the tortilla”

I visited them in 2004 and again now in 2016. In 2004 the historical tensions that existed in the municipality of San Juan and San Pedro over land and other resources were still felt, in fact some people from San Pedro continued buying land in San Juan and had the best coffee fields in the municipality; the chalet owners (mostly foreigners and people from the city of Guatemala) took over the shores of the lake, one of the 7 marvels of the world. The La Voz cooperative had their wet mill, they stood out for their frequent rotation of leadership, while the organic coffee yields of their members were equivalent to 60% of conventional coffee yields.

In 2016 the picture I found was very different. Some people from San Juan had purchased land and coffee fields from people from San Pedro and almost none of that previous tension between San Juan and San Pedro was felt. Hurricane Stan in 2005 and Tropical Storm Agatha in 2010 made the water level increase in Lake Atitlán, and with that a lot of land in dispute disappeared. The cooperative is changing; in addition to a wet mill, now they have a cafeteria where they roast 5% of their total coffee and they sell it packaged and in cups of coffee; 95% of the rest of the coffee they export; they have a clinic for women; they produce organic fertilizer to sell to their members; the coffee quality has improved (cup scores of 94 and 95) and their yield is the reverse of 2004, now their conventional coffee is equal to 60% of the per manzana yield of their organic coffee. Some of their members are buying land again.

“If you do not flip the tortilaa, it burns.” The cooperative had flipped the tortilla, taken a big leap, and along with the cooperative San Juan had also improved. What were the keys that openned the door of improvement for the cooperative in a matter of 12 years?

‘Hit rock bottom’ with the crisis, trust in themselves and move forward again in alliances

Paradoxically, the principal key was undergoing a harsh crisis and waking up right before “getting boiled.” Between 1993 and 1995 the cooperative received a loan for nearly a half million dollars from a social bank and two userers; and in that same period doubled the amount of their organic coffee exports, buying another 50% from third parties and passing it off as fair trade and organic coffee from the cooperative. The cooperative did not receive most of that loan, and did not receive anything for the shady deal for the other 50% of the coffee (earnings for the purchase and sale of coffee to a friendly market that was paying a good price + US$20/qq fair trade premium + US$30/qq organic premium). This obviously was possible thanks to the complicity of part of the board and the administrative staff, who acted behind the backs of the cooperative, even though they did do it in their name, with the complacency of the certifiers, banks and coffee buyers, who obviously saw the numbers double on paper and kept quiet.

“In just one period we disgraced ourselves”, said a member of the cooperative, while refering to the fact that the elections of the board members are every two years, and that one period was enough to “disgrace” the cooperative. In this period during which the temperature of the “pot” was increasing, “the frog” (the members) were calm, they did not perceive the change in temperature. The following period (next two years) the collectors arrived because they had fallen into arrears, the board members and the members were concerned, but the situation appeared to be under control. They needed one more period to realize that “they had exported double the amount”, it is then that they met in the assembly to ask the ex-board members what had happened, and analyzed the causes along with the members; and met with the banks, the certifiers, the buyers and the aid agencies. They worked to reach agreements, changed the organic certifier, and the members of the cooperative bodies began to look at the administrative management. Thus they freed themselves from being “boiled” like the “frog.”

Now outside the “pot”, the leaders look at their awakening in retrospect:

“If a member spoke well, we would say that that member was good, we would say let him be president, and we would nominate him for president. We would trust what the manager or president would tell us: “such and such a project is coming…sign here.” That is fine, we would say, and we would sign. We would not verify the minutes to see how it had been left. They only would come to tell us. We signed and we signed. There was no control over the travel allowance of the manager, nor over the salaries that they got. We let them sign the checks for the employees. The manager in one period was even the legal representative of the cooperative. We would change everyone in each period, there were meetings, but we did not know how to exercise those roles. The credit committee would allow the board to authorize the loans, and we would say that that was good. As the legal represenative the manager would negotiate and talk with the buyers and the banks; we were afraid to talk with a business person and we were happy that the manager did so. Going to the capital was something we really did not want to do…” (board member of the cooperative).

The members saw themselves as adapting to something that was making things worse for them. First, the “normal” (signing minutes and checks without verifying, naming board members and meeting without playing their roles, putting people who spoke up more into positions of responsibility, allowing the manager to be the legal representative, the administration to sign their own checks, the board or manager to authorize loans instead of the credit committee, avoiding conversations with buyers and the banks) emerged as “abnormal” for being from a cooperative. This is waking up. Secondly, realizing that the instigators for taking over the resources of the cooperative were from inside and outside the cooperative, this made centuries of beliefs evaporate about “the foreign auditor has the last word,” “the person with the college degree is trained to lead organizations”, that “we always need a patron” (someone who directs us “from above”), and that “we indigenous are not capable of speaking or traveling”. Third, the formality of the cooperative had absorbed them: that leadership rotation was the solution to corruption, and that the audit of international aid organizations ensured that everything was normal. “That is fine, it is fine”- they would tell them while reviewing the paperwork that the small mafia had organized. Fourth, they laughed when they realized that culturally as families they had closed themselves off to learning new ideas, they had said that “a ladino could not teach an indigenous about coffee”; and that idea had blocked them, they could hear them but not listen to them. Fifth, the force of the market (individual interest to maximize profits) was like the fire that increased the temperature of the pot, it was a logic that had penetrated the minds of the members and the fair trade organizations, and had connected them to the normal practices of the first point, the unfavorable beliefs of the second point, the demanding formality of the third point, and with that cultural prison of the fourth point. This is the environment that made them repeat to any visitor: “we are fine.”

With all these points and the decisions that they made, they had taken a giant step: waking up in time and getting out of the “pot.” Nevertheless, this did not guarantee them that they would not fall into another “pot”; in addition they were “half boiled” by the time they got out; the members did not trust their cooperative, while many aid agencies withdrew, and other suggested closing down the cooperative and founding another one. How did they rebuild trust and move forward again as a cooperative? They put their house in order, they defended themselves against legal suits, they negotiated their debts, and at the same time they invested and found good markets for their principal crop, coffee.

First, the cooperative learned the lesson that the associative side of the cooperative (board, oversight board and committees) had to understand AND manage the administrative side of the cooperative (cafeteria, exports, fertilizer production, administration, credit, clinic), and had to be zealously careful with the decisions that each side (associative and business) had to make. This lesson they began to put into practice.

Secondly, the cooperative, with its bodies and management, built beneficial relationships with different actors. With aid organizations and the State, administering resources efficiently. With social banks, honoring their debt, in spite of the fact that only part of those resources had gotten to the cooperative, and the fact that the social banks had failed in their scrutiny mechanisms to ensure that the loans went to the cooperative and not a small mafia. Building relationships with a new organic certifier, looking for one that “visited the countryside.” And with the coffee buyers so that the demand for more quality might be combined with price differentials.

Third, the “associative-business” awakening also implied a “awakening in production technology”. This implied recognizing that there was a lot to improve in their production areas, and that the training sessions from the state institutions on the coffee market were useful and necessary; then they began to listen to the trainings and observe their fields. It also implied deciding to have a full time technical promoter (who would accompany the members in their fields, as well as produce organic inputs, earthworm and compost fertilizer) that the members can buy. In this way, slowly, they perceived that a responsible management of organic coffee would yield sustainable fruit in the long run, something beneficial even for including different associated crops with the coffee, and for understanding that an open mind with a long term perspective is important.

Fourth, adding value to their coffee, getting into the roasting and grounding of coffee, and opening a cafeteria for the public, has multiple benefits. On the one hand, it has allowed you to know more about the yield of coffee, for example, that 1.20 pounds of export coffee is equal to 1 lb of roasted-ground coffee, or that 1 pound of roasted, ground coffee comes from 7.4 pounds of cherry coffee, and that you can get 25 cups of coffee from that one pound. This information is important to them when negotiating differential prices with coffee buyers, because both organizations, the cooperative and the buyers, understand how unjust the New York price is, when it says that 1 pound of coffee is worth US$1.50, and that same pound in the United States or Europe, now roasted, ground and packaged, is worth 10 to 20 times more, and let´s not even talk about once it is turned into 25 cups of coffee. On the other hand, the cafeteria is also a door to agro-ecological tourism for people connected to the coffee trade and for the public in general; this creates an environmental awareness and allows people to understand how coffee economics works and how it is part of the culture of the communities of San Juan; and also deepens the relationship between the cooperative and the organizations with which they are connected.

The ongoing awakening

“Every cloud has it silver lining.” The crisis was serious, but at the same time, awakening to it allowed them to make a difference in 12 years. They learned that the relationship between the associative and business parts is the engine of cooperativism; that the formality of leadership rotation is basic, but insufficient; and that a relationship of alliance is a double edged sword, it can be a relationship of complicity for dispossessing the members of their own organization, or it can be an alliance so that they “jump” out of the “boiling pot”, improve the lives of their members, and contribute to non members. If the relationship of the organizations is only with the president or the manager, based only on “papers”, they are on the brink of being dispossessed. If the relationship with the organizations is with that associative/business interaction mediated by immersion processes and transparency on both sides, they are on the brink of repossession. This is the biggest contribution of the La Voz cooperative to the associative world.

After these two large steps forward, are they out of danger of being “boiled” like the “frog”? The response is no. In fact, it is said that human beings are the only animal that trips over the same stone. What can be done to keep danger away? In the history of social movements we learn that, after being mobilized “from below”, even the best leaders tend to believe that the people can only be mobilized “from above” – from a political vanguard, manager or market. The cooperative needs mechanisms that would allow it to mobilize itself “from below” (members) to detect in time any increase in “temperature”; that the associative side supervise the administrative side – like the rotation of leaders – it is good, but not enough. How can it be done? Based on research, we should work on an alliance between the cooperative and the University around the formation of students and new associative leaders. Concretely, the cooperative and the Rafael Landivar University (RLU), I mention the RLU because of their historic interest in contributing to a society moved by social justice and not by market justice, should invest in a cafeteria on the central university campus and then in each branch; that cafeteria would be the gateway toward an ecology of knowledge (the science that is taught is ONE knowledge, there are other knowledges produced for example by the indigenous and peasant families of San Juan, and other knowledges); and that relationship would allow the RLU to have a privileged source for formation, and the cooperative would have an opportunity to study itself in a contextualized way.

“What good can come from San Juan de La Laguna?” ask those who are mobilized “from above”, like the prejudiced elite asked some 2 thousand years ago: “What good can come from Nazareth?”. In this article the La Voz Cooperative teaches us that working within a plural framework of alliances, keeping the focus on organized families, may be the best antidote for any organization that fights for justice and peace to avoid being “boiled” by market fundamentalism that says that you have to study a major or organize yourself exclusively to make money.

[1] René (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/) and an asociate researcher for IOB-University of Antwerp (Belgium).

A cooperative that regulates markets

A cooperative that regulates markets

René Mendoza V.,

With Sulma Y. Leiva, Rigoberto Martínez and Ruperto Mejía[1]

It is easy to stop one person, but difficult to stop 100.

 When people discover the power of community and the transformative force of Christianity, nothing can stop them. Héctor Gallego

 

Many cooperatives in Latin America tend to end in three ways. Some are stillborn, the result of external decision making, organized by the State or international aid. They last as long as there is an injection of external economic support. Others turn into businesses, implementing the social aspect like something similar to “Corporate Social Responsibility”, that is, charity to provide good publicity for the company. And others are privatized by small elites and managed at their whim. In these three cases, the member families end up affected, their dream of accessing better markets (for products and capital), of being trained and cooperating to resolve problems, falls apart. In the face of this reality, the Hope of the Peasants Cooperative in Panama seems to express a real hope. This article summarizes what this cooperative is and explains the secrets behind its success.

What is the novelty behind this cooperative? It is an organization that is 47 years old and has 1,235 members, the only one in Central America that manages commerce through a distributor, 2 supermarkets and 5 branch supermarkets within a network of more than 20 groups, among them other cooperatives. It is also the only cooperative in Central America with a coffee roaster that is processing 100% of the coffee it collects under two brands (Café Tute and Café Santa Fe). It is a cooperative that redistributes 40% of its earnings through social policies, and 60% directly to the members. And it is a cooperative that has influenced the market in a district of 16,000 people, made the weighing of the products bought and sold more fair, and instituted the idea that being a business person is selling products at low prices. In other words, we are in the face of a cooperative that is regulating the market in the interests of its members and the communities of Santa Fe of Panama.

What are the secrets to the success of this cooperative? Said figuratively, there are three codes that interact to “open” the “lock box” to the success of this cooperative; codes that “open” in a context of adverse power relations and in a place with a history of resistance – the indigenous in the face of the Spanish invasion, and the Tute Mountain uprising with the rebellion of the students against the Panamanian Guardia. This trilogy of codes are the internalization of values expressed in the mission, the counterweight and social cohesion mechanisms that accompany the smooth running of the cooperative, and the sustainability of the cooperative and its members.

The sense of mission happened during the gestation and birth of the cooperative, under the influence of the priest Hector Gallego, who was disappeared after three years in 1971. Jacinto Peña recalls that precise moment when the cooperative began in 1969:

We woke up to the injustice of the wages, the fraud that the stores pulled off with the weighing of the products and their prices. So we decided to form a cooperative. But how could we start a cooperative if we did not think we had any resources? So Fr. Hector threw out a 5 cent coin in the middle of where we were seated, and asked, “How many pieces of candy can we buy with that coin?” “Five!” we responded. Others present looked in their pockets for a 5 cent coin. And others as well. The priest held up 10 coins and said that we had enough for 50 pieces of candy and sent a young boy off to buy them. It was 12 noon, we were all hungry. That same boy passed out the candy to the 50 who were present. The priest asked us again, “what does it taste like?” Someone shouted, “it tastes like heaven!” The priest concluded, “that is how cooperativism is done.” The next week a group from Pantanal bought 1 quintal of salt to sell, and in El Carmen each person began to save 10 cents a week. That is how the hope of the peasants got started, our cooperative.

This gestation was the connection between the institution of cooperativism (something external) and the transformational religious institution (something internal) in a group of small producers (something local). Facing an adverse context of large producers paying them low salaries, and stores cheating them with weighing and prices, they woke up and saw opportunities in national lands that they could work and having stores on the basis of their own resources. Learning, discovering the hidden side of things, made them change: the poor can save and can work on their own land; they can come together and share the force of their faith to build justice. This is then their mission.

Throughout the history of the cooperative, in the good times and the bad times, the counterweights and group cohesion have been important to them. The Board of Directors, the Oversight Board and the Assembly function, addressing strategic decisions and taking care of one another; while 92 workers on the business side are responsible for the operational part. They are not judge and jury; the management cannot decide for the board nor viceversa. In addition there is a group of the founders of the cooperative who, whether they hold posts or not, remain vigilant over the course of the cooperative. There is high rotation among the board members, while the founding leaders remain. There is a lot of cohesion among the 92 workers, which is incentivized by a pretty equitable difference in salary, the distance between the highest salary and the lowest is 2 x 1, when the rest of the institutions and organizations tend to have a gap of approximately 10 x 1 and even higher. The interaction between the associative side (bodies) and the business side of the cooperative generates mutual oversight for the smooth running of the cooperative, something that has allowed it to overcome various administrative crises over the years.

The sustainability of the cooperative and its members completes the trilogy. The sustainability of the cooperative has been achieved following the two principles of Fr. Hector: “overflowing measure”, which is giving more in weight instead of giving less; and maintaining low prices for the sale of products “because no popular organization should steal from the poor.” In terms of the sustainability of the members, the cooperative uses 40% of its surplus for scholarships, aid and incentives for the producers, and the remaining 60% is directly redistributed to the members, according to the amount that they have bought from the cooperative. In other words, the general population buys from the cooperative because of the low prices, and the members benefit not only from the prices, the loans and the incentives, but also from the surplus. This nourishes the sense of ownership that the members have over their cooperative. Recalling the biblical phrase that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be”, the heart of the members is in their cooperative.

With this foundation, the cooperative faces the market dangers that stalk it daily. What are they? The fact that the business side, in a country like Panama based on a service economy – money for money – might take over the associative side of the cooperative; that the centralization of decision making and the concentration of resources, that has so many times eroded other cooperatives in Latin America, might seduce the new generations; and that the logic of external subsidies and subsidies from the cooperative itself, instead of the Law of the Talents (Matthew 25), might be raised up as the social part of the cooperative. These are dangers that the cooperative has known how to deal with, regulating markets to the benefit of human beings, something it has done throughout its 47 years.

This reminds us of the distinction that Brafman and Beckstrom (2008) make in their book, “The Starfish and the Spider: The Unstoppable Power of Leaderless Organizations, precisely about the difference between the spider and the starfish. They both are similar in the sense that their arms are attached to a central body; but they are different. If you crush the head of a spider, you kill it. While you cannot find the head of the starfish. If you cut it in half, it becomes two starfish; if you cut off its arms, they produce even more. Dark forces believed that by disappearing Fr. Hector they would do away with the peasant movement of Santa Fe. The Hope of the Peasants Cooperative is like the starfish, it reproduces itself and multiplies itself by 10 times 100. The more decentralized it is, the closer it is to its mission, and the more it recovers its formation and character as a peasant movement, the more it will be like a starfish, the hope of the peasants of Latin America.

[1] René (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/) and an associate researcher of IOB-Antwerp University (Belguim). Sulma is the president of the “La nuez de oro” Cooperative, and Rigoberto and Ruperto are from the Mangle Association of El Salvador.

The Paris agreements on climate change: A path for saving the planet?

The Paris agreements on climate change: A path for saving the planet?

René Mendoza Vidaurre[1]

Pick up a rock in your hand and close you fist around it until it begins to beat, live, speak and move. Sámi Poem

When the waves of the ocean hit our chest, at the same time we feel a current of water pulling our feet in the opposite direction. In the midst of pressures from all sides, on December 12, 2015 representatives of 195 countries meeting in Paris achieved the first universal and binding agreement for saving the planet. In this article we argue that the Paris Accords are like the “waves” that allow us to surf, but we need to discern “the current under the waves”, the undercurrent that could drown us. To do so we start with a brief theoretical framework, then we identify the problem of climate change, we put it in a historical perspective, we list the agreements achieved in Paris and their long term effects, we discern “the current under the waves” of the agreement, we measure the challenges, and putting ourselves on the side of peasant, indigenous and Afrodescendent organizations, we suggest concrete mechanisms for the mitigation of climate change.

  1. The dilemma of the common good of the climate

There is a close relationship between common goods (collective or public goods) and climate change; the atmosphere is a good that belongs to everyone, and at the same time it is limited, it can be exploited and really has been excessively exploited (pollution). The question is, if we know that the climate benefits all of us, why is the atmosphere polluted? Hardin (1968)[2], in a Cold war context marked by the state-market economy dichotomy, argued that rational individuals, maximizing their private advantages and socializing their costs, use up common resources, which is why they are condemned to be used up (privatized) – this is where the phrase tragedy of the commons comes from. The dilemma is that we all want a non-polluted atmoshpere, but our individual rational actions cause irrational collective results, climate change.

Olson (1965)[3] recognizes the cause of this dilemma in the free rider, the opportunist who thinks that he will receive benefits regardless of his contribution, which results in a generalized assumption. Olson suggests working in small groups and providing sanction/incentive mechanisms in order to save the commons. Ostrom[4] criticizes Hardin because of the deterministic nature of his theory (“tragedy”) blocking human progress, and on the basis of cases of communal management, finds that the commons do not disappear, that they can be well managed if there is clarity about the rules (laws), the collective methods, and if decisions are made collectively, there are local and public conflict resolution mechanisms, including sanctions on those who violate the rules, and when the self determination of communities is recognized by the authorities at the highest level. In this case there is no “tragedy”; cultures understand that the commons are environments that make sustainable and rational behavior possible (De Biase, 2014)[5].

Resolving this dilemma of collective action requires knowledge, particularly in the case that concerns us. Nevertheless here another dilemma emerges, science generates information that causes uncertainty, yet at the same time we depend on that information. Following Beck (1986)[6], we live in a society of risk (“modern society”), not just of classes (“traditional society”); our medium is an environment where knowledge, like being, determines awareness, whose formation is different to awareness previously, because the dangers are not coming from the rich and poor, but both face the same problem in this society of risk, even though with differential results – like an earthquake of the same scale has different effects in Haiti than in the United States. Science reports on the increase in temperature and suggests its control, even some express their faith that progress in technology will solve climate change; but science cannot predict the consequences of that increase because of the its degree of complexity. The paradox is that there is uncertainty about the knowledge, while at the same time we depend on it (Beck, 1986).

Both dilemmas, the collective action and the knowledge dilemma, move under structural conditions, which are ideas, interests and organizational patterns and institutions founded over centuries, that are very exclusive and generally dominated by small elites. Within this framework we formulate a number of theses: there are structures that underlie the contamination of the atmosphere and the primacy of individual rationality, which has had perverse effects; the commons (the atmosphere), following Ostrom, are not “tragedy”, but conflicts that should be analyzed as starting points from a political economy perspective; the dilemma of collective action and the uncertainty can be resolved through a knowledge produced by “epistemic communities” that would include the “civil scientists” (vulnerable families and their organizations) and “natural and social scientists”.

2. Global warming

Graph 1. Increase in temperature by 2100

increase in global temp 2100-2

Source: Conference of Parties (COP) based on the United Nations Framework on Climate Change (UNFCCC). http://myalbum.com/album/boFLr8B9S4j0

What does it imply? Solar energy passes through the atmosphere, part of that energy is absorbed by the earth´s surface, and another part is reflected (bounces back); part of this reflected radiation is retained by greenhouse gases (GHG), and another part returns to space. In other words, GHG are in the atmosphere, they retain part of the heat of the sun, and within a certain range, maintain a temperature appropriate for life.

The problem is when these GHG increase in the atmosphere, retain more heat and make the temperature of the earth increase. If we take the average world temperature of the preindustrial period as a reference point (see Graph 1), the temperature for 2012 rose by 0.85 degrees Celsius (known as centigrade, symbol C ) compared to the preindustrial period; if this increase continues without any change, the temperature for 2100 will increase by 4.0 0C, a situation in which it is believed that the planet will survive, but not the human race. The G-7 countries have promised zero emissions of carbon by that same year, 2100; the question could be asked whether they are sure about that, because there would be no human beings capable of emiting it. In the Paris Accords achieved in December 2015, the parties (countries) proposed new commitments to stay under a 20C increase over the preindustrial level. Nevertheless, even if the accords are fulfilled, the spending of the carbon budget will not only reach 107.3% in 2080 (see Graph 3), but a 2.7 0C increase will be reached, something recognized in the Accords themsevles: “Observes with concern that the estimated levels of the added greenhouse gas emissions in 2025 and 2030 resulting from the foreseen contributions determined at the national level are not compatible with the scenarios of the lower cost 2 ºC, but rather lead to a projected level of 55 gigatons in 2030, and also observes that, in order to maintain the increase of average world temperature under 2 ºC over preindustrial levels, through a reduction of emissions to 40 gigatons …” (chap 2, art. 17).

Graph 2

Source: based on World Resources Institute

 

Graph 3

Source: British meteorological office (Met Office). http://www.metoffice.gov.uk/research/news/2015/global-average-temperature-2015
Graph 3. Average Global Temperature (1850 – 2015)

We talk about a carbon budget, because the quantity of carbon to be emitted to not go beyond the 2 0C of (average) global warming has been established. Graph 2 shows how we have been spending that carbon budget, displaying the danger of the “undertow.” Between 1860 and 1965 a fourth of that budget (24.4%) was spent (emitted), spending that by the year 2000 was already half of that budget (53%), and by 2012 nearly three fourths of the budget was spent (67.1%). This is what Graph 1 shows as 0.85 0C of global warming. Then, Graph 3 provides us another important figure, that in November 2015 global warming went beyond the “ceiling” of 1 0C over preindustrial levels.

From this we see the spending of the carbon budget is happening more and more quickly, consequently the increase in global warming is also happening more quickly. The problem, according to the IPCC (International Panel on Climate Change, Stockholm 26-8-2013)[7] is that when the temperature gets beyond 1.6+ y 2.0+, that temperature will remain there for hundreds of years, no matter what we do. This threshold, at the pace we are going, will be passed in a few years. By 2033 we will have spent 100% of the carbon budget, and global warming will rise 2 0C, and by the year 2100 it will have risen 4 0C. Let us remember that these data are a world average, which means that the increase of 2 0C over preindustrial levels, in tropical regions could be 3 0C or more, which will be catastrophic for life – the earth and humanity.

With a 2 0C warming it is thought that, among other consequences, parts of the world will be uninhabitable, there will be worse droughts[8] and floods, strong storms, risks that coastal areas will flood, decrease in rivers, expansion of deserts, acidification of oceans and cities affected[9], food insecurity because of the decrease in yields of harvests and because of the loss of habitat from flooding, collapse of the marine food chain, loss of biodiversity, and according to Burke et al (2015)[10], the increase in temperature will widen even more inequality gap. These are some of the foreseeable consequences, but in general, uncertainty prevails about the effects of climate change, and the accompanying risk that we under or over estimate them. In other words, averages are deceptive; understanding climate change is understanding the enormous diversity in the production of the problem, and in the fact that its effects are suffered in a differentiated manner; the diversity and inequality that it expresses clearly are not solved with charity.

3. Contamination in a historical perspective

In becoming aware of the gravity of the climate change situation (or global warming) that threatens human existence itself, we ask ourselves about how we have gotten to this point. The key is in the increase in GHG caused by human actions. This began in the XIX century with the industrial revolution, first with the European countries, and later including other countries – here we find the largest free riders in the world.

Table 1 shows the 14 countries that have emitted the most carbon dioxide (CO2) into the atmosphere in different historical periods. Between 1865 and 1890 the countries of Europe (in blue), were the countries that most polluted the atmosphere. Since 1890 the United States appears as the biggest polluting country. Then, between 1960 and 1980 four Asian countries joined the group of the biggest emitters of CO2. And between 1990 and 2012 there is a more diverse and globalized table of 14 countries that have polluted the most; China starting in 2005 takes the lead as the most polluting country.

 Table 1. Carbon dioxide emitting countries in different historical periods

Table 1

Source: based on World Resources Institute. See: http://bit.ly/11SMpjA

Table 1 helps to see the 14 countries that most emitted CO2 in each period. Cumulatively, Graph 4 shows the countries that have most polluted between 1850 and 2011. We see there that the United States holds first place with 27% of emissions. They are followed by 28 countries of the European Union with 25%. Then come China, Russia, Japan, India, Canada, Mexico, Brazil and Indonesia,

that together emitted 31%. Finally there is the rest of the world (158 countries) with 17% of total CO2.

Graph 4 (1)

This data, nevertheless, hides the complex global interaction that exists among countries, the flows and outsourcing of pollution. For example, the countries of Europe and the United States, to reduce their gas emissions, use components of solar energy panels and wind turbines made in China[11]. Countries like England, to avoid fines from the European Union that set goals for recycling, and due to the fact that the prices of plastic and paper dropped, transfer recyclable waste to Indonesia[12]. Or countries like China, that import wood from Latin America for the construction of a large amount of homes in times of strong economic growth. Nor does the flow from large corporation appear in the data, that move to other countries to export from there the products that their countries need. In this way, countries like China and Indonesia appear to have higher CO2 emissions, while countries like England appear to have less[13].

In addition to the recognition of the production and consumption chains between different countries, a view of the use of per capita energy also influences the interpretation of the pollution list. For that purpose we focus on year 2013, and we analyze the six highest polluter countries in the world. See Table 2.

Table 2. Highest polluting countries currently (2013)

Range Countries Population (%) Total energy consumption (kilotons en %) Emissions of CO2 (kilotons in %)
1 China 19.1 21.5 24.7
2 United States 4.4 17.2 16.2
3 India 17.6 5.9 6.0
4 Russia 2.0 5.7 5.2
5 Japan 1.8 3.6 3.5
6 Germany 1.1 2.5 2.2
  Latin America 8.5 6.5 5.1
  46 62.9 62.9

Source: based on World Resource Institute

Total energy consumption is expressed in kilotons (1000 metric tons) of fuel used (related to oil, natural gas and solids like coal); and the emission of CO2 includes the burning of fossil fuels, manufacturing of cement, and the carbon dioxide produced by the consumption of natural gas and coal. From Table 2 we see that between China, United States, India and Russia they consume half of the energy generated on the planet, (50.3%), and are responsible for half of world emissions of CO2 (52.1%), but at the same time they are countries that have 43.1% of world population. The United States shows the greatest imbalance by consuming 17.2% of energy and emitting 16.2% of total CO2, when it has only 4.4% of world population, which shows conclusively that the USA as a country, and in per capita terms, is the most polluting country of all – the leader of the free riders.

We present two graphs in what follows that deal with energy consumption and per capita emission of CO2, that should be interpreted with a certain degree of care. For primary energy consumption before its transformation into final fuels (equal to national production plus imports and variation in stocks, minus exports and fuel supplied to ships and planes affected by international transportation, see Graph 5), six Arab countries are among the biggest pollutors (Qatar, Kuwait, Brunei, Bahrein, Omán and United Arab Emirates).

Graph 5

Graph 6

Source: based on the Statistical Division of the United Nations. See Graph at: http://www.tsp-data-portal.org/TOP-20-CO2-emitters-per-capita#tspQvChart

 

For  emissions of CO2 (see Graph 6) there are seven Arab countries (Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, United Arab Emirates Brunei, and Saudia Arabia) among the biggest polluting countries. What do both graphs tell us? First, because of the size of the countries, these Graphs do not contradict the list of the 6 most polluting countries on the planet. Secondly, the case of the Arab countries is something unique, they consume more because they are producing more fuel, and their dependency on oil reveals their real “Achilles heel”, because the solution to climate change will mean they will experience the harshness of the so called “Dutch disease.”

Pickety (2015)[14], with data on the historical tendencies of per capita CO2 emissions on the national level based on consumption, confirms that global emissions are concentrated: 10% of global emitters (from all continents) supply 45% of global emissions, and the 50% of those that emit less, supply 13% of global emissions.

Graph 7

Source: Schwabish, N. Tawil and C.ourtney Grith, 2012, Congressional Budget Office based on information from the World Bank, World Resources Institute; Resources for the Future and Climate Advisers, and LTS International. Ver: https://www.cbo.gov/sites/default/files/112th-congress-2011-2012/graphic/1-6-12-forestinfographic0.pdf

To complement this description of pollution, we show its sources also by sector (see Graph 7). The greatest source of contamination is the production of energy (44%) that includes the use of electricity, industrial use of energy and other sources related to energy; followed by agriculture and deforestation (26%); then industrial processes and waste, and burning of fuel in homes and businesses (16%); and transportation (14%).

Graph 8

And given that agriculture interests us because of its historical importance in the world, particularly in Latin America, I include Graph 8. Of total contamination generated by agriculture, 36% comes from nitrogen oxide (N2O), 14% from CO2 and 50% from methane (CH4). Of this 100%, now looking at the Graph, the biggest contamination comes from ranching: 40% from intestinal fermentation (digestion of organic material by livestock) and 15% from manure deposited in pastures[15].

Summarizing what we have seen so far, global warming has happened because of the increase of GHG, an increase that has been mostly due to the generation of CO2 (in addition to methane and nitrogen oxide) in which the United States and Europe cumulatively have emitted 52% of CO2. Six countries have done the most contamination in absolute and relative terms. Highlighted as well are the strategies of some countries to appear as less polluting. The case of the Arab countries, with a high per capita consumption because of their production of cheap fuel, is a unique case due to being confronted with the dilemma of helping to save the planet (leaving fossil fuels underground) and their survival due to their dependency on oil. Finally, the contamination by sector shows agriculture and the forestry sector with not very high percentages -14 and 12% respectively – but they are very important sectors because: most of the impoverished part of the population is concentrated there; they are the only sectors with the potential to absorb GHG from the atmosphere; and because agriculture is a sector that can make the greatest contribution to the mitigation of climate change (Reynolds, 2013), like the forestry sector. This is ratified by the experience of Brazil, a country that reduced deforestation by 70% in the Amazon between 2005 and 2013, and with that has had a direct effect on global level emissions[16]. Without this contribution Graph 7 would be different and the spending of the carbon budget would be greater for 2012 in Graph 2. In conclusion, agriculture is another case that shows the importance of diversity, and that tells us that poverty and inequality can be solved if agriculture and forestry effectively contribute, with innovative practices and institutionality, to absorbing GHG.

4. The Paris Accords and their scope

196 members (195 countries and the European Union) arrived at a “legally binding” accord, that will be ratified in April 2016 and will take effect in 2020. The key words of the agreement are: mitigation, adaptation, financing, technology and building capacities. The principal objective of the accords is; keeping the increase of global temperature below 2 0C over preindustrial levels, “and continue striving to limit the temperature increase to 1.5 0C”. To do so, 162 countries have turned in their sheet of the route called “Intended Nationally Determined Contributions” (INDC) to limit the effects of the increase in temperature, while 9 countries, among them Nicaragua, did not turn in their INDC[17], and other countries, like Bolivia, turned in their INDC on the condition of foreign financing[18]; they agreed to mobilize 100 billion dollars annually from the developed countries for the developing countries as a financing mechanism for climate change mitigation and adaptation measures[19]; and they agreed on support for research, development and demonstration of technology, and the development and improvement of endogenous capacities and technologies. The areas prioritized for the reduction of greenhouse gases are renewable energy, energy efficiency, transportation, methane and agriculture, and the foresty sector.

The noise generated around the Paris Accord is one of triumphalism, but the reality appears to be bleaker. Let us remember that the issue of climate change was already discussed in the Rio Earth Summit in 1992, an event in which the treaties on the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), on Biological Diversity, and the Convention to Combat Desertification became known. Let us note that by 1990 we had already spent 43.4% of the carbon budget, and by 2012 we had spent 67.1%; if governments had decided to fight climate change in 1992, the situation today would be very different. Even 1.5 0C would have been achieved if there had been an agreement at the first United Nations Conference in Berlin in 1995, while now it is only “an aspiration and improbable goal” (Monbiot, 2015)[20]. 23 years after the Rio Summit and 20 years after the Berlin Conference, and after global warming doubled from what it was in 1990, implementing the Paris Accords will only make the increase in global warming happen more slowly, and that it not continue beyond 2080. Worse yet, these accords are only going to be applied starting in 2020!

Some additional thoughts. First, in fulfilling these accords, pollution will continue and the spending of that budget will reach 107.3% by 2080 (Graph 2), the year in which the situation will improve, and in the year 2200 the spending of the carbon budget will be 95.8%, a level much higher than the present level! Secondly, the Paris Accords warn that the INDCs sent in by the countries imply aggregate greenhouse gas emissions that go beyond the 2 0C and “lead to a projected level of 55 gigatons in 2030”, while the goal is 40 gigatons, “to keep the increase of average world temperature under the 2 0C” over preindustrial levels; the 55 gigatons imply a temperature increase of 2.7 0C expressed in Graph 1. Third, the euphoria of having arrived at a global agreement obscures the fact that even that 2 0C is an “average global temperature”, which would be greater in tropical countries, and that means that the Paris Accords are in their core a partial acceptance of that calamity.

These results make J. Hansen, considered the father of global awareness of climate change for being the first scientist to sound the alarm about this problem in 1988, describe the Paris Accords as a “fraud”, and a “falsehood” (Milman, 2015)[21]. Why? Hansen argues that the accords are only “promises without actions”, that until taxes (or charges) are placed on gas emissions, climate change will get worse. In a more moderate way, Monbiot (2015) says that the Paris Accord, compared to what happened in Copenhagen 2009 where no agreements were reached, and seen from the “narrow framework” of the United Nations, are “a miracle”[22]; while seen from outside that United Nations framework, from what they should be, “are a disaster”.

5. The undercurrent beneath the waves

Why is it so difficult to reach an agreement to save the planet? It is the dilemma of collective action. From the data seen, the accords depend in large measure on the fact that the 10 most polluting countries, or the companies that are behind them, would cede in their positions and overcome what Hardin called the “tragedy of the commons”; that the feeling of the countries who are not on that list, in seeing that their development path by way of industrialization will tend to be limited, where the companies and their national counterparts also have a lot of influence, likewise would cede to a perspective of diversity; and from what is observed in different parts of the world, it depends also on the growing awareness and reactive,[23] and above all proactive, social mobilization with long term thinking.

The “undercurrent beneath the waves” has to do ideas and interests. Monbiot (2015) identifies a “narrow framework” within which the discussions on climate change have taken place. Verbruggen (2015)[24] says that there is a large coalition on the climate (officials, academics, captains of industry and people in the green campaign) rooted in the belief that “there is no alternative”, and in a faith that “the only viable form is continuing the current course”, which does not seem to be appropriate in an issue like climate change, where frequent disruptions are experienced and where diverse theories, practices and technologies are needed. This “narrow framework” and “the only viable form” is the economic perspective, and that “large coalition” in reality are the technopols that Robinson (2003: 214-217)[25] has identified in each country, who are certain intellectuals who are “charismatic, organic, politicized and local organizers of groups with a transnational orientation, that play an important role distinguising local strategies, political programs, technical plans and ideologies, for integration into the new global order”. They are actors connected to one another, nationally and internationally, that penetrate the State and promote the transnational project of capitalist globalization. Verbruggen questions why economists embrace a sole global approach (the market) in climate policy, when there have been so many failures trying to impose a “uniform straight jacket”; and accuses that perspective of having paralized climate policy since 1997 in COP03, Kyoto when the United States imposed trade in emissions[26].

This perspective, motivated by countries´ economic interests, has led to the fact that the Paris Accords focus more on the consumption of fossil fuels and not on their production (Monbiot, 2015), and that they are promises easily avoided by countries. An example of this is England, a country that has a policy for reducing greenhouse gas emissions (reducing the demand for fossil fuels) under the 2008 Climate Change Law (coherent with the Kyoto Accords, see footnote no. 26), and another policy under the 2015 Infrastructure Law by which it urges oil and gas companies to increase their production (greater greenhouse gas emissions) to “maximize the economic recovery” of England (Monbiot, 2014)[27]; in other words, on the one hand it reduces gas emissions, and on the other it promotes the increase of their emission, and both policies are implemented under the direction of the Secretary of State for Energy and Climate Change. What is happening in England, Monbiot himself confirms, is a common practice of governments trapped by the interests of large corporations.

From the side of some developing country governments, there are criticisms of the capitalist system, but without moving outside of the “narrow framework”. Correa (2015)[28], president of Ecuador, points out that the old division of labor, countries who are producers of raw materials and countries responsible for the industrialization of those raw materials, has been replaced by another: “the rich countries generating knowledge – science, technology – that they privatize, while countries like Bolivia, Venezuela, Ecuador, countries of the Amazon basin, we generate environmental goods that they consume for free…”Correa points out that that knowledge is privatized through “patents” and “royalties”, and whose violation is penalized with jail time; while “there is no jail time if a multinational company destroys our nature”. This new division of labor, according to Correa, is based on “power”: “Who are the polluters, but produce knowledge that they privatize, and in exchange they consume environmental goods freely? They are the most powerful ones”; “there are courts for financial debt, there are courts to protect not the rights, but many time the abuse of the multinationals. Why are there not courts for something as fundamental as establishing the ecological debt—?” For his part, Evo Morales, the President of Bolivia, in the 70th General Assembly of the United Nations, said that the countries of the south are not going to be the “forest rangers of the countries of the capitalist system.” And in the very same COP21 of Paris, the representative of Nicaragua, P. Oquist said: 1) that the agreements recognize the debt of the countries historically responsible for climate change; 2) that under the principle of responsibility, they compensate the developing countries, because the consequences of climate change are suffered more by developing countries; 3) that the goal promoted by the developing countries, particularly the island states, has been 1.5 0C and not 2 0C, and that the highest polluting countries reduce their gas emissions; and 4) that the procedure for the decision of the Accords was authoritarian and not democratic[29].

At the same time, in apparent contradiction, Correo supported oil exploitation in the Yasuni Amazon park and in other indigenous communities (Sarayaku, Kichwa, etc). The same situation is happening in the case of Bolivia, Venezuela and other countries. The discourse to the outside world does not appear to be endorsed inside the countries. This is due to three reasons. First, their environmental policies are not backed by their own resources, they are dependent on foreign resources, be they called “compensation” or “Payments for Environmental Services” (PSA), which is why they end up accepting the environmental policies governed by markets[30]. Second, the old Taylorist model of organization persists, that shaped states, political parties, unions and guerrillas, vanguard structures, which keeps them from going out and listening to the communities, and taking their perspectives seriously, that go beyond the economy and its routes, that move outside the lines defined by the modernization theory of “development”. Third, in criticizing the absence of responsibility on the part of the developed countries, and at the same time demanding compensation, they are denying the diversity in the world that they justly tend to speak about in a discursive way. As we said before, the diversity and the inequalities are not resolved with charity.

This economic logic, called by Polanyi decades earlier as the “market society”, postpones agreements and their compliance, diverts attention toward demand while it rejects leaving fuel underground, criticizes gas emissions in a country and at the same time opens the door to extractive companies. That opposition, successful since at least the Parties Conference in Berlin in 1995, allowed the Paris Accords to happen as a “consensus”. Under this logic, (economic) progress of countries has happened embedded in gas emissions; it is the idea that there is no development without industrialization; that climate change would be resolved with more economic progress (and “aid”), that it is not with less market that climate change is going to be resolved, but rather with more market. Coherent with this way of thinking, any country – better said, the corporations behind the governments – are afraid that accepting environmental regulations means losing their competitive advantages over their competitors, or, in the case of the governments of developing countries, the fear of not receiving external resources described by many of them as “compensation”, “foreign investment” (natural resource extracting corporations with greenhouse gas emissions) as a right in the face of “imperialism”. The “waves” of the Paris Accords move us “surfing” the big polluters that appear as the saviors of the planet and as the financiers of developing countries to adapt to climate change. The “undertow” is that the developing countries will be those most affected yet by the Paris Accords themselves, they will have to sacrifice the type of future (road to industrialization) that they have been seeking, emulating the developed countries; while the developed countries will follow their path of progress with GHG emissions.

More than that, the “water current” has to be captured from a historical perspective. Moore (2015)[31] refers to two myths. First myth, that the cause of climate change began with the industrialization in England in the 1800s, a myth also shared by the thinking of the environmentalist movements or the so called approach of the “green economy.” Moore argues that capitalism emerged in the XV, XVI and XVII period (1450-1750) from the biggest environmental revolution that affected natural landscapes and human beings. The most dramatic expression of that process was the conquest of America in military terms, human and environmental genocide. In other words, it was imposed with the sugar plantations, and then with the silver mines in Potosí, appropriating for free (or at low cost) the work of nature and of those considered “non-human”, indigenous and slaves. This process destroyed mountains of forests and eroded lands of the Andes area. This system continued with the extractivism and mono-cropping of sugar cane, tobacco, cotton…fuel…The pattern has been the same: getting new forms of nature that work for free and at low labor cost. From that perspective, the idea of the developed countries in Paris 2015 was expressed as a “consensus”, because “the rest” of the countries with their proposals did not count, like previously when the indigenous populations, slaves and nature were seen as parts of nature, as “the natives.”

The second myth, that the problems created by capitalism are the responsibility of all of humanity, or that climate change is the responsibility of all. Moore (2015) describes this myth as coming “from a racist, Eurocentric and patriarchal vision.” There are historical responsibilities in the face of climate change, injustice that is hidden by the Paris Accords. It is not so much about “compensation”, as about getting the capitalist system to quit feeding itself from what nature produces, cheap labor, cheap energy, food and raw materials, quit persisting based on human and environmental genocide. At this point the biggest danger is that the Paris Accords become a door to dispossession, commercializing nature, in a context where the opportunities for appropriating the free work of forests, oceans, the climate and soils are less and less available.

So in line with Moore (2015), looking at the reality without separating the economic from the ecological, as the history of the emergence of capitalism shows, and as we see in the dry zones in Central and South America, opens up new windows for understanding the reality, combining climate change and race and gender inequality. This step, in turn, will allow us to form new alliances among producer organizations, feminist organizations, worker and student organizations.

6. Challenges

Before continuing, let us recapitulate what has been worked on so far in the light of the proposed theoretical framework. The climate is a collective good, whose “over-exploitation” is due to the opportunism (free riding) of mostly large corporations and developed countries who have polluted the atmosphere. This fact has been sustained not only for 200 years (industrial revolution), but for more than 500 years under the emergence and establishment of the capitalist system on the basis of cheap labor from nature and most of the world´s population, which has also led to the institutionalization of a exclusive organizational pattern. These structures have been expressed in ideas based on market fundamentalism, in the belief that there is no alternative, and with “undertow” effects.

This perspective has generated a pessimistic and conservative thesis, that the causes of the problem will be difficult to change, and that there is no greater human effort capable of making them change; it is pessimistic in the sense that, if it ends up true, the planet will become less inhabitable in the second half of the current century. And it is conservative in so far as it generates impotence, that there is not much to do, that the problem is so complex that we do not know what to do.

Nevertheless, distinguishing the structural factors, supported by a historical perspective, allows envisioning a more optimistic thesis for institutional change, a new and more transformational correlation of forces. This is a “society in movement” with global awareness – for pressuring, and also with decisions about, for example, reducing their consumption of meat, milk and energy – to understand the social, economic and ecological reality as parts of the same process, connected to the families of small producers (peasants and indigenous) with intelligent sustainable practices in the efficient use of soil and forestry, with the relaunching of a business sector around new technologies for change in the energy matrix, with scientists committed to making renewable energies be cheaper than energy coming from coal, gas and oil[32], and with governments that promote appropriate fiscal regulations to incentivize renewable energy and – following Pickety (2015)– applying taxes on the richest in the developed countries as well as the developing countries, overcoming the traditional north-south dualism. This correlation of forces could make the old and dominant correlation of forces led by corporations to step back, and would be a window of possibilities for social, political, economic and ecological transformation of our societies and its institutions on this planet earth.

Under this framework, we list three challenges in what follows. The first challenge is providing solutions that make the Paris Accords possible with a perspective that in the long term would allow fuel to stay underground. It is clear that it has taken a lot of time to reach these accords, the current goals are insufficient to save the planet, and the way that they propose to reduce CO2 is with a productivist and “green economy” vision. To introduce policies and decisions that would make the Paris Accords possible, it is important to understand the economic crisis, the social crisis and the ecological crisis as the crisis of capitalism; in doing so, replacing the economic fundamentalism in which we are trapped by a more holistic perspective of life. Without getting out of this trap, even solutions like clean energy (solar, geothermal, wind and others) will not prosper; likewise the critical perspectives of the member governments of ALBA countries, that with or without their own resources, continue without moving beyond economic fundamentalism.

The second challenge is preventing capitalism from using the Paris Accords as an open door to accumulate more based on its historical practice of appropriating nature and cheap labor. Part of that reality we have seen in the policies on protected areas in Latin America, as well as in many cases of titling indigenous territories, that have worked to dispossess the indigenous and Afro-descendent populations and peasant families of their lands[33]. And part of that modality is giving crumbs to the developing countries as a license to continue generating GHG, crumbs that are tied to mechanisms of “management by results”[34] out of an individualistic logic (e.g. given to the individual producer for planting trees on his farm), and eroding organizational expressions (cooperatives, associations and communal organizations) that especially rural societies have for resisting the dispossession mechanisms of large enterprises that are always ready to buy their land. This is a form of dispossession that is unfavorable not only to the developing countries, but to 80% of the world population that only has access to 17.2% of world income[35].

The third challenge is overcoming the nature/society dualism of the very actors historically considered “natural”, the peasant, indigenous and Afro-descendent families. The issue of climate change tends to appear as something very complex that leaves people with a sense of impotency, making them feel that human actions for change are so small in the face of something as large as climate change; and that ideological and slanted “campaign” on climate change has made indigenous and peasant families tend to “blame themselves” for climate change, something contrary to what is indicated in Graph 7[36]. That degree of complexity and insecurity that climate change generates, combined with self blame on the part of the peasant famiilies, can be counterproductive. Confronting this situation requires that we get beyond the idea that development can only be achieved by way of industrialization, showing that the peasant, indigenous and Afro-descendent way, a path of centuries of resistance to capitalism, in alliance with different actors, can mitigate climate change, and within it, the role for agriculture and forestry for absorbing GHG, mentioned previously, make the world see the importance of this peasant and indigenous social sector.

7. The Perspective of the peasant, indigenous and Afro-descendent families

How can we take up the challenges and mitigate climate change? The diversification strategies of these families, with their different variations (see Mendoza, 2004[37]), opposed to the mono-cropping system and extractivism, and including family and territorial organization with an emphasis on life connected to the land, are differentiating angles and practices for mitigating climate change.

From this perspective of diversity, territories, diversification, organization and connection to the land, and opposed to the technopols identified by Robinson (2003), we propose the construction of a “epistemic community” that, in the words of Marchetti (2015: 20), is an “continuous and more profound encounter of different ways of knowing, crossing over educational and geographical aspects, abandoning external prescriptions, the external canon of science and even the external canon of politics on climate-energy, and taking responsibility to formulate and adjust policies every year in different geographies and epistemic communities”. How can these epistemic communities be constructed? We respond to this question out of our involvement in work with rural organizations. First, leaders of peasant, indigenous and Afro-descendent organizations would organize their knowledge in a systematic and ongoing way, and do it in alliance with intellectuals of the south and the north; building a long term capacity that would expand, correct, generate and catalyze knowledge, leaving behind oral tradition and only being reactive movements in response to the extractivism and monocropping. The solutions for making the Paris Accords possible would come from this type of processes that develop long term capacities.

Second, their own capacity can be combined with experimentation and innovation processes of paths with different perspectives, and to the extent that their organizations consolidate based fundamentally on their own resources, and on resources generated by carbon capture. The PSA initiatives should be read in the light of this endogenous capacity, the practices of diversification, the logic of the territories where the population is taking care of the land, and the grassroots organizations that are expanding their management capacities of common goods. It is a matter of the families and populations being able to see climate change from their own lives, organizations and communities, mitigating climate change, instead of seeing themselves as minuscule beings in the face of “complex” and “uncertain” climate change, as isolated individuals enmeshed in abstract markets.

Third, with this capacity of producing knowledge and innovating forms of climate change mitigation as a different way of life, implying personal changes and organizational renovation, the peasant, indigenous and Afro-descendent families need to reconquer land areas, deepening their relationship with the land, expanding their territories as “the place of those who take care of the land”[38] under the premise that ecological, social and economic equity are inseparable, and that therefore gender, ethnic and generational inequality are parts of environmental degradation. Within this process, the state and organizational policies to mitigate climate change should respond to this perspective with crop rotation, diversification, the rollback of the mono-cropping system and extractivism, and social and economic equity. In this way that coordination of practices and policies will be the basis so that the Paris Accords are carried out and deepened to achieve a global warming goal of less than 1.5 0C, innovative ecological, social and economic practices are promoted, poverty and inequality are reduced, which is coherent with the Sustainable Development Objectives, not leaving even one poor person behind by 2030.

In conclusion, the poem quoted at the beginning of the text is from the Sàmi indigenous people, located in Norway, Switzerland, Finland and Russia, a people who are fighting to have their lands recognized. They remind us that even though we speak the language of the earth, that the key is connecting to the earth again and learning to relate to her. J. Laiti of the Sámi people states that recognizing that we belong to one another leads us to love life, use nature as the source of life, and convince ourselves that we live in – and we are made of – the earth[39]. This change of relationship with nature is possible if there are personal changes and organization renovation, as Pope Francis reminds us in his Encyclical Laudato Sí: “there will not be a new relationship with nature without a new human being.” And with these two steps, to take the third, following the African Proverb, “if you want to go quickly, go alone; if you want to go far, go accompanied.” In the face of the systematic harassment of corporations (market), the construction of epistemic communities with peasant families and indigenous and Afro-descendent peoples, groups that haver persisted this harassment for centuries, now developing their capacities for organizing and producing their knowledge and innovations, a process accompanied by a framework of global alliances, and by ongoing personal change, can really make a difference in mitigating climate change. This can get the best of the “undertow”. This is moving far ahead.

* René Mendoza (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (WPF) (http://peacewinds.org/research/), associate researcher of IOB-University of Antwerp (Belgium).

[1] This work has benefitted from the comments and suggestions of P. Marchetti, F. Huybrechs, G. Delmelle, K. Kuhnekath, D. Kaimowitz, J. Bastiaensen and T. De Herdt, as well as the reflections expressed in a workshop with leaders of rural organizations (cooperatives and associations), and representatives of organizations both inside and outside the country.

[2] Hardin, G., 1968, “the tragedy of the commons”, en: Science Vol. 162, No. 3859, pp. 1243-1248

[3] Olson, M., 1965, The Logic of the Collective Action. USA: Harvard University Press.

[4] Ostrom, E., 1990, Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective Action. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

[5] De Biase, L, 2014, 2014, “what scientific idea is ready for retirement?” en: Edge, https://edge.org/response-detail/25425

[6] Beck, U., 1986, La Sociedad del riesgo. Hacia una modernidad. Barcelona: Editorial Paidos

[7] This data we are taking from Marchetti, P.E., 2015, No Recipes for Planetary Crisis: Epistemic Communities and Climate/Energy Policy Architectures. Mimeo: Guatemala: URL

[8] For example, the second largest lake in Bolivia, Lake Poopó 2,337 km2 i in size, dried up in 2015 due to various causes, among them the El Niño phenomenon, pollution from mining and the diversion of rivers by producers on the Peruvian side using irrigation systems. See: http://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias/2015/12/151223_ciencia_bolivia_lago_poopo_desaparicion_sequia_wbm Another example is the drought in California (United States) between 2012 and 2014, considered the worst drought in 1200 years, see: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/12/141205124357.htm

[9] The following scientific study talks about the fact that sea levels could rise more than 5 meters and affect cities like London, Miami, Shanghai and New York. Hansen, J., Sato, M., Hearty, P., Ruedy, R., Kelley, M., Masson-Delmotte, V., Russell, G., Tselioudis, G., Cao, J., Rignot, E., Velicogna, I., Kandiano, E., von Schuckmann, K., Kharecha, P., Legrande, A.N., Bauer, M., y Lo, K. W., 2015, “Ice melt, sea level rise and superstorms: evidence from paleoclimate data, climate modeling, and modern observations that 2 _C global warming is highly dangerous” en: Atmos. Chem. Phys. Discuss., 15.

[10] Burke, M., Hsiang, M.S. and Miguel, E., 2015, “Global non-linear effect of temperature on economic production” in: Nature 527, Macmillan Publishers Limited

[11] See: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1241872/EXCLUSIVE-Inside-Chinas-secret-toxic-unobtainium-mine.html

[12] See: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-21432226

[13] Within this context, the notion of “unequal ecological exchange” shows that the developed countries outsource their consumption costs to developing countries, intensifying their environmental degradation. See: Jorgenson, A.K., 2006, “Unequal Exchange and Environmental Degradation A Theoretical Proposition and Cross-National Study of Deforestation” in: Rural Sociology 71.4

[14] Pickety, Th., 2015, Carbon and inequality: from Kyoto to Paris. Parish school of economics. http://piketty.pse.ens.fr/files/ChancelPiketty2015.pdf

[15] Also see: Reynolds, L., 2013, Agriculture and Livestock Remain Major Sources of Greenhouse Gas Emission en: Worldwatch Institute. http://www.worldwatch.org/agriculture-and-livestock-remain-major-sources-greenhouse-gas-emissions-0

[16] In 2004 President Lula Da Silva promised a deforestation reduction policy of 80%. Nepstad et al (2014) gives an accounting of it, that between 2005 and 2013 the deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon decreased by 70%, which prevented the emission into the atmosphere of 3.2 billion tons of carbon dioxide, and that in 2013 represented a reduction of 1.5% in global emissions. See: Nepstad, D., et al, 2014, “Slowing Amazon deforestation through public policy and interventions in beef and soy supply chains” in: Science Vol. 344, No. 6188 See also: the economist: http://www.economist.com/news/science-and-technology/21603409-how-brazil-became-world-leader-reducing-environmental-degradation-cutting

[17] P. Oquist (see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uL53JDkek2g) justified the fact that Nicaragua had not turned it in: that the United Nations, in terms of climate change, does not have objective verification mechanisms for the expression of the individual will of the different countries; and because Nicaragua has low emissions and in addition is reducing it – in 2014 it only emitted 0.03% of gases, and that because of the increase in renewable energy (from 25 to 52%) the country saved 2.1 million tons of CO2, with which total gas emissions dropped to 4.8 million tons.

[18] See: http://www.c2es.org/international/2015-agreement/indcs

[19] This financing had already beeen approved in 2011 as the Green Climate Fund (GCF), as a financing mechanism of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). See: http://finanzascarbono.org/financiamiento-climatico/canales-bilaterales-de-financiamiento/fondo-verde-para-el-clima/ The Paris Accord ratified this agreement.

[20] Monbiot, G., 2015, “Grand promises of Paris climate deal undermined by squalid retrenchments” in: The Guardian, December 12, 2015. http://www.theguardian.com/environment/georgemonbiot/2015/dec/12/paris-climate-deal-governments-fossil-fuels

[21] Milman, O., 2012, “James Hansen, father of climate change awareness, calls Paris talks ‘a fraud’” in: The Guardian December 12 2015. http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/dec/12/james-hansen-climate-change-paris-talks-fraud

[22] To read the chronology on climate change, see: http://www.un.org/climatechange/es/hacia-un-acuerdo-sobre-el-clima/ For a historical review of the “wave” (Paris Accords) and particularly the day to day of the Paris negotiations, see: Campos, V., 2016, “The Paris climate agreement is patently insufficient” in: Envio 415.

[23] Many protests and struggles in every country in the world. For a sample, see summary from the Avaaz movement https://secure.avaaz.org/es/climate_story_loc/?beAxNab&v=70850&cl=9162323010 and run for your life with Jenni Laiti: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZR6kGNM_L0

[24] Verbruggen, A., 2015, Self-governance in global climate policy: An essay. University of Antwerp.

[25] Robinson, w., 2003, Transnational conflicts. Central America, Social change, and Globalization. London: Verso

[26] The 1997 Kyoto protocol legally linked the developed countries to the emission reduction objectives. It set goals for greenhouse gas reductions of 5%. The commitment period was 2008-2012, and 2013-2020. Only 37 countries (28 in Europe) signed this accord. The US Congress did not ratify it, and countries like China, one of the countries with the most emissions, were left out. By 2015 the 37 signature countries were able to reduce emissions by 22%.

[27] Monbiot, G., 2014, “The UK is making it a legal duty to maximise greenhouse gas emissions” in: The Guardian June 26, 2014. http://www.theguardian.com/environment/georgemonbiot/2014/jun/26/uk-legal-duty-maximise-greenhouse-gas-emissions

[28] Correa, R., 2015, “Por el hermano viento, por el aire, la nube, el cielo sereno y todo tiempo” in: Correos 7.42 Nicaragua: Instituto de comunicación Social.

[29] See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uL53JDkek2g. For more reading on the proposal of the Government of Nicaragua published before the Paris Summit, see: Oquist, P., 2015, “La posición de Nicaragua” in: Correos 7.42. Nicaragua: Instituto de comunicación Social.

[30] Van Hecken, G., Bastiaensen, J. y Huybrechs, F., 2015 (“What’s in a name? Epistemic perspectives and Payments for Ecosystem Services policies in Nicaragua” in: Geoforum 63) discuss “epistemic circulation” to explain how the member countries of ALBA (Bolivarian Alternative) deal with conservationist environmental policies and then end up joining it. The authors observe in the case of Nicaragua how, in spite of the critical perspective of the government on the payment for environmental services (PSA), most of the PSA projects in the country have been carried out responding to the dominant perspective of being governed by the market.

[31] Moore, J. W., 2015, capitalism in the Web of life, United States: VersoBook.

[32] 7 scientísts and economists from England have proposed an Apollo type research program for the purpose of doing research that in 10 years would produce renewable and clean energy cheaper and free from CO2 emissions. This energy would be based on 3 pillars: renewable (especially solar and wind), nuclear power and “carbon capture”. They do it under the idea that by 2025 we would ensure that global warming be under 2 0C, otherwise they think that climate change will be catastrophic. See: D. King, J. Browne, R. Layard, G. O’Donnell,

  1. Rees, N. Stern and A. Turner, 2015, A GLOBAL APOLLO PROGRAMME TO COMBAT CLIMATE CHANGE.http://cep.lse.ac.uk/pubs/download/special/Global_Apollo_Programme_Report.pdf

[33] The dispossession is done not just by the extractive companies and monocropping enterprises, but also the institutions that started as alternatives. For example, many microfinance institutions present their portfolios as “green loans”, which by financing extensive livestock raising, instead contribute to this dispossession of land and territories; these same microfinance organizations do not give loans to indigenous populations nor to peasant families that are diversifying their production, and that are located in protected areas and indigenous territories, or cooperatives that have forest areas and that are prevented from touching even one tree.

[34] For a critical perspective, see: Chambers, R., 2014, “Perverse Payment by Results: frogs in a pot and straitjackets for obstacle courses” in: IDS, Sussex University.

https://participationpower.wordpress.com/2014/09/03/perverse-payment-by-results-frogs-in-a-pot-and-straitjackets-for-obstacle-courses/

[35] Data for 2007 taken from: Ortíz, I. and Cummins, M., 2011, Global Inequality:Beyond the Bottom Billion… New York: UNICEF. See: http://www.unicef.org/socialpolicy/files/Global_Inequality.pdf

[36] In a workshop with female and male leaders of rural organizations (January 2016), and representatives of academic and business institutions, the perspective of both groups was expressed differently.The first group, of the leaders, blamed themselves for climate change, attributing the causes to the “bad production practices”, “burning and cutting down trees”, “use of chemicals in agriculture”, and “the lack of education in families”, while the second group attributed the causes to “short term thinking”, “Companies” and “dependency on oil.”

[37] Mendoza, R., 2004, “Through the Looking Glass: Images of the Agricultural Frontier” in: Envio 273. Managua: IHCA-UCA. http://www.envio.org.ni/articulo/2182

[38] This phrase from women of the Afro-descendent community of La Toma del Cauca (Colombia), was picked up by Escobar (2016), “Desde abajo, por la izquierda y con la Tierra” in: Contrapuntos, Serie Desafíos Latinoamericano 7.

[39] See interview of Jenni Laiti in: http://uralistica.com/profiles/blogs/jenni-laiti-is-looking-out-for-s-mi-interests

Reducing inequality in land access, a way of contributing to gender equity?

Reducing inequality in land access, a way of contributing to gender equity?

René Mendoza V., René Rodríguez F., Ruth Aguilar P., Selmira Flores and María A. Sieza

Summary

Currently there are more women that have access to land, but their access continues to be unequal: women control 13.3% of total land. Most of their properties are classified in the strata of ownership of less than 20 manzanas (mz). There are four ways of accessing land: family, community, State and markets. Women access more land through the family; men do it more through community, State and markets. The family way means that they receive it as an inheritance. This institution of inheritances, however, is practiced to women´s disadvantage, due to the mentality of our societies and its institutions; in other words, the land is left to the male sons, not to the women. To reduce the inequality in access to land through the family, that institution of leaving inheritances exclusively to men needs to be deconstructed, in such as way that society, to the extent that it organizes, would demand a law through which sons and daughters receive inheritance equally. This would help to improve the lives of the families, increase production, reduce gender violence, decrease inequity and promote organizational participation.

Why does this inequal access to land through inheritance persist and intensify? Why is this transformation in women´s favor happening so slowly – and at times so adversely? Ousting the exclusive institution of inheritance is a very slow process, in spite of the fact that the population has more formal education, migrates more and has more access to internet. This has to do with the mentality of society, conceptions about family, work, land and the role of women and men in terms of the land, conceptions where religious ideas also have an influence. And it has to do with the fact that national and international organizations and institutions overlook the topic of inheritance in their policies and strategies, because they consider it something “natural” and “private.”

We propose reforming the inheritance law so that sons and daughters have equal rights to be legatees. There are three challenges to doing this: deconstructing the institution of inheritances with families and with organizations and institutions, organizing to achieve this reform, and organizing to implement it in its material dimension (land) and its immaterial dimension (values that accompany the management of the land). This implies working with women and their families, and listening to them, instead of spinning out theories entangled in the idea of land as a marketable asset separate from social actors. It also means asking ourselves: Is reducing inequality in land access a way of contributing to gender equity?

1.     Re-concentration and unequal access to land

In this section we present data from Agricultural Censuses 2001 and 2011, where the question was asked “who runs the farm”. We point out that “running the farm” (or being the principal farmer of the home) and “being an owner” are not equivalent terms.

On a national level between 2001 and 2011 women as the principal farmers increased from 18.1% to 23.3%. Their access to land also increased: from 11.7% to 13.3%. Nevertheless, this apparent improvement was diluted with the observation that the reconcentration of land, begun in the 1990s, got worse between 2001 and 2011, and with that gender inequality grew. Between 2001 and 2011 principal farmers with less than 20 mz went from controlling 9.8% to 11.2% of the land; those who had between 20 and 300 mz under their control went from 56.3% to 52.7%, and those who has more than 200 mz increased their control from 33.8% to 36%. This growing inequality has the face of a woman: the gap between women farmers and men farmers increased to the degree that the ownership strata was larger; the concentration of farmers in the lower strata (0-5 mz) grew, going from 33.3% to 46.7%, particularly women farmers: from 45.9% to 62% of the total principle farmers, a strata that had only 2.7% of the total land area, and where women controlled barely 0.6% in 2011; and as a general rule, the bigger the strata, the smaller the land for women, who go from controlling 23.7% of the land mass in the strata 0-5 mzs, to barely controling 7.9% of the strata that has more than 500 mz.

1.1  Findings

In the last ten years (2001-2011) the reconcentration of land has gotten worse. In this period, of all farmers, women farmers increased by 5.23 points, and their access to land by 1.6 points, a Pyrrhic improvement that probably was the result of the efforts of international aid and the State in favor of joint propiety ownership, where it was promoted that some members of the cooperatives would formally share their land with their spouses, and where funds were created to help the women buy land.

This improvement in number of principal women farmers could be coherent with the hypothesis of the “feminization of agriculture”, mentioned by some authors like Lastarría-Cornhiel (2008) and Katz (2003)[1]. In other words, that the number of women in farm work and in agroindustry increased, be it because of migration, structural adjustment policies, or other reasons, and that – by way of hypothesis – in dry agrarian areas and due to the increasing flow of remittances, women moved to different agricultural activities (e.g. vegetables), while in wet agrarian zones and the agricultural frontier, women were in crops like coffee and the cattle agroindustry (e.g. as workers in cheesemakers, milk processers).

This improvement hides the intensification of gender inequality. While principal women farmers increased by 5.23 points among total farmers in 2011, 62% of all of them are located in the 0.1-5 mz strata of land ownership, 16.4 points more than in 2001 (from 45.91 to 62.05%), controling only 0.6% of the total land in the country. In other words, principal women farmers increased as a whole, but with more inequality than in 2001, which means more subdivision of the properties.

Why does this unequal access to land persist and get worse? Why is this transformation in favor of women so slow – and at times so adverse?

2.     Patterns that support the inequality

Land is obtained four ways: family, community, State and markets. Women acquire land mostly from the family (inheritance); men, through community, State and markets[2]. If inheritances went equally to sons and daughters, the inequality would be reduced substantially, even though not entirely, because the other three mechanisms for access remain – community, State and markets – that also sustain gender inequality[3].

2.1  Evolution of policies that have worsened the inequality

In the decade of the 1980s the State implemented the largest agrarian reform in the country. The result indicated that only 8% of the individual beneficiaries, and 11% in the collective modality were women. Likewise in the decade of the 1990s an agrarian reform was done to benefit the people demobilized from the war (members of the National Resistance and the Army), that included the titling of the land in a joint fashion: only 7.8% of the lands titled were joint titles. More recently in 2010 a law was approved for the creation of a land fund for women through the market (credit for the purchase of land); five years after its approval, the law had still not been applied. These three facts reveal a breakthrough: the intention of the agrarian reforms of 1980 and 1990 was to promote equal access, but the state and social institutionality ended up supporting the inequality. The law for the land fund is an enormous breakthrough, but the delay in its application is an expression of the rigidity of that institutionality, and surely when that law finally gets applied, the respective institutionalities of the State, the markets and society (community and family) also will play their roles.

What does this rigid institutionality consist in, that makes good institutions provide unequal results? In the next section we will respond to this question, more than anything from the purview of family inheritances, something that probably permeates the other institutions.

2.2  Institutions that support the inequality.

Inheritance, landed property, is a centuries old institution. To understand the conditions on which this institution is based, case studies were done of 12 families in the muncipalities of Rio Blanco and Somotillo. These conditions have to do with the way family, work, land and the role of women and men are conceptualized; they are conditions that are incrusted in the mentality of men and women, conceptions influenced by age old religious beliefs, and practices legitimized by national and international organizations and institutions, that consider inheritances as something “natural” and “private.”

The family is conceptualized as sacred. The father of the G-Z family of Rio Blanco said:

My family is very close and docile. This daughter of mine is another story; since they gave land to her husband, I am giving her cattle…I gave my other son a farm and I gave him cattle to sharecrop.

The younger daughter (24 years old, single and a professional) from the same family disagrees: “It is almost always seen this way, until the children have a home. I would like him to tell me, ´this is your part, work it´, but as a family you don´t see that”. The condition is having a home, and then the inheritance is differentiated; in the case of the married daughter, they wait to see if her husband will receive an inheritance, surely following the rule that “the man supports the woman”; in the case that he does receive an inheritance, then they will give cattle to the daughter. In the case of the son, they leave him the farm, and in addition they support him in the beginning by giving him cattle to share crop. The single daughter meets the condition of having a home, and even though she has studied, the inequality is not seen, and she does not fight for her inheritance, but allows her father to decide. The voice of the mother does not appear in the decision of the father, not even in the tacit complaint of the daughter, maybe because of the prevalence of another soceital rule: “a woman does not speak in front of her man.” This reveals a profound gender inequality within the heart of the family: the father decides, and his decision is awaited and obeyed as the sacred word; the daughter with a home is “another story”; the son with a home receives a farm and begins his path as a rancher supported by his father (“sharecroping the cattle”), because he is from the family; the single daughter, even though she has studied and is of age, “waits”. The sacralization of the family structure is rooted in religious beliefs: “the husband is the head of the woman”, an institutionality that also is considered to be sacred.

This sacred decision of the father of the family is based in the idea of work. The father of the S-P family in Somotillo said:

It would have to be shared among them, because everything that you do, you do for your children, but this son is the one who has helped me, he has not abandoned me, he is with me all the time. The others have left me and so I have thought about helping the one who has helped me more[4].

The mother disagreed, but demurred: “It is good to give them their part in life, so that they can be getting their things, separately, true, but the owner does not want to.” The word “help” refers to the work on the farm (land). The phrase “he has not abandoned me” denotes tacit loyalty (submission), like the phrase “The owner does not want to”, where the wife does not appear as a co-owner. One of the sons, talking about the work of the women of the family, said: “Well, let´s say they participate when we already have the crop here, because we remove the corn from the cob by hand…and they are there with the staff…noting down all the grains they are removing, and involved in the commerce as well.” Previously the mother had said, “I would milk the cows, I would help my father herd the cows. I would milk, from a very young age, now I help in various things as well.” This work (milking) did not serve her either to receive an inheritance from her parents. The inheritance, consequently, is for the one who has worked on the farm and has been submissive, and implies that milking, removing the grains from the cob and selling what is produced does not count as work, except when the son is obligated to do it. Those who have left express their voice (“voice” in the sense that Hirschman gives it, see note 5), seeking other options apart from the land, which disqualifies them from receiving an inheritance. In this family most of the inheritance will be for one of the three sons, and probably for none of the daughters, because the key criteria is “work of men+ submission”.

In different circumstances, the A-A family of Rio Blanco decided to leave an equal inheritance to sons and daughters. The way decisions were made in the respective families of origin of the father and mother had an impact on this: he as the oldest brother was left in charge of the farm with the death of his parents, and in eight meetings with his brothers and sisters they decided to divide it up into equal parts. In her family (wife) her parents also died without having decided the inheritance, and the oldest brother was left in charge, but: “My brother said that he was not going to turn over the farm because it was costing him, that he was working it. He did not give my younger brother any space, and afterwards he said that my brother did not like working on the farm.” What stands out is that she worked on the farm: “I worked the machete with my Mom…we made gardens, bean patches…” This work did not allow her to be a legatee of the land, even though that argument that “I work” her older brother used to exclude the younger one, and it stands out that not even she herself considered she had the right to that inheritance. How is it then that this A-A couple shared their inheritance equally? Probably what weighed on her (the wife) was the experience of being deprived of her right to the inheritance in spite of having worked on the farm, and what weighed on him was having achieved a joint decision among brothers and sisters. And maybe the determining factor was that she – counting on the loyalty of her sons and daughters – forgave him for having left for two years with another woman, while she gained the respect of the entire family raising her younger inlaws as if they were her own children, a situation which changed the correlation of forces in the family, and this favored them making the decision to leave their land equally to their sons and daughters.

The origin of the inheritance weighs on the decision in terms of the sons and daughters. In another case, the S-P family, the mother did not receive an inheritance in spite of the fact that she worked in the field; the father received land from the State through the agrarian reform, but on the death of his parents, his brothers excluded him from the inheritance. That experience of having been excluded, both he and she, naturalized the institution of inheritance as unequal in nature. In the case of the G-Z family, he received an inheritance from his mother, who left it to him and his sister in equal parts, and the same thing occurred on the death of the father: he left cattle that also was shared equally; in contrast the mother was excluded from the inheritance of her family, because her father left it only to his sons. In that family, with the joint title issued by the Church, and in spite of the fact that his mother and father left him and his sister an inheritance shared equally, the institution that “the man supports the woman”, reinforced by the same Church that encouraged them to have a joint title, leads them to make decisions of inequality for their sons and daughters. In another case, the C-G family decided to leave their inheritance equally to sons and daughters, because he received an inheritance from his maternal grandmother, who raised him because his mother formed another family, an experience that made him become aware: “Just as it was given to one, so one should give to their own.” He is grateful to his grandmother, that left him an inheritance even though he was a grandchild; it was not so important whether the daughters had worked or not on the farm, given that, except for one, the others were kept from working in the field to “protect them”, and to encourage them to study, which is the reason why today they are professors. That “protection” probably consisted in keeping them safe from sexual harassment that women tend to suffer in the countryside.

The origin of the property also has an influence on reproducing equitable relationships, when the inheritance comes from a woman and the person that receives it has awareness about what that means. In the case of the M-A family of Somotillo, the mother said: “Here we used to do everything, we would plant corn, sesame, we would clean, among all the family, we would rent oxen.” In other words, she worked. Later on she told us:

My great Aunt told me: ‘Here you are going to make your house, here you are going to live, and I told her that after she died they were going to show me the road. She reacted: ‘whoever does not want to have anything to do with you, let him kill you. So since we are nine brothers and sisters, we divided it up into nine parts, and since I had the right of possession, I stayed here.

This step of equality only happened when she got the consent of his mother, who in spite of the decision of the grandmother, tried to benefit her children:

For my Mom to give me rights I had to pressure her. I told her: ‘I cannot work because you support your male sons, not me’. Humililated I told her: ‘Either give to me or I am leaving. So she told me that she was going to give to all of us.

Here the sacredness of the family (decision of the owner, the grandmother) is combined with the right of possession as a life or death mandate, having worked in the field and in the home, and above all, having awareness of her rights to the point of demanding her inheritance.

Finally the idea of inheritance as a right of sons and daughters appears among families that leave their inheritance in an egalitarian manner. In the M-A family, the mother is conclusive: “who gave birth to that female, who gave birth to that male? It was me. So I say, if the female has rights, so does the male”. The same awareness we find in the A-A family; the mother said: “…if they give two manzanas to one, you have to give two manzanas to the girl as well, because all are children, all have the right”. How important it is to wake up, to have awareness! Both cases illustrate the approach of making their own way, which includes reconstructing their life as a couple and uniting their families. Both families awoke due to rule number 11: daughters and sons have equal rights (Box 1), by which they gave new meaning to the other rules. There, as Hirschman would say (1970[5]), courage (voice) and departure coexisted in order to make loyalty possible: the rules were reinterpreted (right of possession, sacred decision of the family, work is on the land and outside of it).

Box 1 summarizes the rules the govern inheritances. These rules do not act by themselves, they are interpreted by actors in accordance with their circumstances: there are cases where working the land does not empower neither women nor men to be legatees; there are cases where waiting without demanding an inheritance is counterproductive. They are rules that lead to unequal access to land, that postpone the decision about when to inherit as something sacred. In cases of egalitarian inheritances what stands out is the fact of having an awareness of the rule that each person has rights.

3.     Policies and strategies

The topic of inheritance must be worked on as soon as possible to reduce inequality in land access. The concentration of land is made worse when the land is not well used by the families, and they are not well used when families take a long time in deciding on the inheritance, and when it is divided up in an unequal manner. It is well known that small production is more intensive than large properties, and given that 62% of women farmers are in the strata of between 0 to 5 manzanas of land, we conclude that this strata has the largest production per manzana, mostly because of the influence of women.

We propose improving the censuses, and two policies and three strategies around land access. Concerning the censuses, we make our own Deere´s proposal (2011)[6], that the censuses should include the question of who are the owners of the land, and what was the mechanism by which they accessed that property. Deere observed that no country of Central America has included that question in their censuses. Its importance is obvious for focusing policies in favor of a more egalitarian society.

In terms of policies, there is a brief study[7] on leasing that suggests two policies within the framework of “leasing plus”, which we take up and expand on in what follows. One, introducing a law of egalitarian inheritance, so that there is no disparity between daughters and sons[8]. Two, introducing a leasing law with fifteen and even twenty year lengths, along with a legal guarantee that those contracts might be honored for the number of years that the parties agreed on. These laws would allow the daughters and sons to receive inheritance equally, and work it directly or rent it out if they want to work in other jobs, because in both ways the productivity and ecological sustainability would be more feasible if the small producers are the leasers. And in the case of the large business leasers, it would be possible to stipulate guarantees to prevent their activity from eroding soils[9].

Nevertheless, we can have better laws and not apply them correctly, or evade them, deciding inheritances in favor of some, and not in favor of others, under the figure of “land sale.” Only social processes that make progress toward equality can produce and apply egalitarian laws. Therefore, we propose the following steps: First, that organizations (NGOs, cooperatives and associations) and institutions (State, microfinance and banking) committed to sustainable development jointly contribute with families to deconstruct the habit of leaving inheritances only to the sons. They can do this in reflection spaces based on studies that come from immersion processes; they can be reflections on the specific history of each family and territory, about how that institution of inheritance has been maintained, emphasizing the variability that there has been from generation to generation in specific contexts. This deconstruction process will allow each participant to become aware that inheritance is an institution made by human beings, and therefore it is changeable. This step will lead us to understand the justice of rule 11: daughters and sons have equal rights.

Secondly, working with the churches so that they become aware that decontextualized interpretations of the Bible can generate social inequities, something contrary to the ideals of any Church. The rule that “the man is the head of the woman, says the Lord”, taken from the New Testament (Ephesians 5:23) is obeyed in a decontextualized manner, in terms of both the patriarchal reality of more than two thousand years ago, as well as the scriptures themselves, because some verses later (Ephesians 5:25) it reads: “Husbands, love your women, just as Christ loved the Church and gave himself for her.” It does not say “hit your women”, nor does it say that only the man can decide to whom to leave the family inheritance, nor does it say that the married daughter is “another story”. The Church should be aware of the distortion of its principles and the impact that those distortions can have on the lives of the people; consequently, the Church should understand the society in which it is unfolding. If the people one day awaken, getting rid of centuries of clouds based on social habits of inequality, inheritances could have an egalitarian character, and with it society can achieve greater equity, something that the Church also seeks.

Thirdly, that these organizations and institutions contribute with policies and strategies so that rural families might organize themselves, be that in cooperatives, associations or other community modalities, understanding that structural factors like the institutional change of inheritances, and then work on the land require a series of tangible resources (e.g. credit) and intangible ones (e.g. knowledge), that they can access when they organize. A woman can access an inheritance in her family if she has allies, which is more possible if she is organized (if she belongs to a cooperative, association or other community modality), and/or if she has the support of institutions that grant credit to their families under the condition that they leave it to their daughters and sons equally. Those same cooperatives and associations can include in their statutes the fact that their members commit to leave their inheritances equally to their daughters and sons, and stipulating that gender violence will be a reason for member explusions.

Laws that comes from decision making processes of the population (personal sphere), and from the struggles of organized movements, that in turn influence intrafamily decisions, will be just laws, and will be laws that get applied[10]. For that reason, families will take their steps, in large measure, if they have strategic allies, aware that these realities have to be studied as processes mediated by power relations (“social orders”), and if they have the courage to accompany these families in their struggles for decades. Each organization or institution that works with rural families must have this long term perspective and this commitment to be a strategic ally.

Building processes that generate egalitarian patterns without a doubt will be beneficial for all of humanity.

Authors:

*René Mendoza (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/), associate researcher of the IOB-Antwerp University (Belgium) and the Nitlapan-UCA Research and Development Institute (Nicaragua). René Rodríguez is a researcher on a grant at Nitlapan-UCA. Ruth Aguilar is a consultant and expert on gender. Selmira Flores is the Director of the Nitlapan-UCA research program. María A. Sieza is the director of the Rural Legal Services program of Nitlapan-UCA.

[1] See: Lastarria-Cornhiel, S. (2008). Feminización de la agricultura en América Latina y África. Chile: RIMISP; y Katz, E. (2003). “The Changing Role of Women in the Rural Economies of Latin America”, in: Curemis II: Volume 1 – Latin America and the Caribbean. Rome: FAO.

[2] To learn more about this, see: Deere, C. D. & León, M. (2003). “The Gender Asset Gap: Land in Latin America” in: World Development 31.6. Great Britain: Elsevier Science Ltd.

[3] In Latin America, through the State, agrarian reform has benefitted more men; through the markets, women have less capital for buying land; and through community, men ended up benefitting more.

[4] Another way of expressing that loyalty we find in the son of the C-G family in Somotillo: “… I was given a plot of land for having been a responsible son. My father and his brother were raised by their grandparents, and maybe as a reward, since they were good grandkids, they left them that land as an inheritance”.

[5] Hirschman, A.O. (1970). Exit, Voice, and Loyalty: Responses to Decline in Firms, Organizations, and States. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

[6] Deere, C.D. (2011). “Tierra y autonomía económica de la mujer rural: avances y desafíos para la investigación” en: Tierra de Mujeres. Reflexiones sobre el acceso de las mujeres rurales a la tierra en América Latina. Bolivia: Coalición Internacional para el Acceso a la Tierra.

[7] Mendoza, R. (2015). “La sequía y el arrendamiento de tierra”, en: Confidencial: http://confidencial.com.ni/la-sequia-y-el-arrendamiento-de-la-tierra/

[8] In Latin America only Bolivia has a law that comes close to this proposal: their new constitution of 2009 says in article 402: “eliminating all forms of discrimination against women in land access, ownership and inheritance.” Given that it is recent, we do not have data to know if this law is really being applied.

[9] There are leases for less than a year, where the person who leases plants annual crops, which have few economic benefits for the tenant, better for the owner (value of the rent and stubble for their cattle), but the land is eroding more and more. There are also cases of large business owners who lease the land of small producers to plant peanuts and/or sugar cane for 4-5 years, after which the land is left practically useless.

[10] The experience of France, among other countries, is inspiriting. They have there is just law on inheritance and also laws for leasing for up to 18 years. The peasant movements in struggle for decades obtained these laws, which is why they are laws that are applied. See: http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-333.html; http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-55.html). We are grateful to P. Merlet for this information. In the case of Bolivia, the approval of their agrarian laws and what note 8 refers to is also due to the historical struggle of the rural women´s organizations grouped together in the “Bartolina Sisa” National Federation of Original Indigenous Women Peasants of Bolivia, and the Peasant Women Coordinator from the Tropics of Cochabamba.

We have to expand our thinking to understand the conflicts on the Coast

We have to expand our thinking to understand the conflicts on the Coast

 René Mendoza Vidaurre

 This researcher into the rural—and particularly indigenous—world
shares his unique perspective on the cultural aspects of the
North Caribbean Coast’s indigenous and mestizo populations
that underlie the land and other conflicts heating up there.

 I have visited the Caribbean Coast region many times during the 1980s and 90s and more recently through my work with a research team from the Central American University’s Nitlapan Institute, which has been in Bilwi, capital of the North Caribbean Coast Autonomous Region, since 2007. A few months ago we spent a number of days in the Mayangna community of Awas Tingni, talking to the people there, then crossed the Río Coco, which forms Nicaragua’s eastern border with Honduras, to talk to the mestizo peasant communities on the other side of that river. We also visited the Miskitu community of Saupuka on Nicaragua’s side of the same river, again crossing into Honduras to talk to the mestizos in Olancho.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on the Caribbean coast, but I’ve learned things in all these trips. My goal here is to contribute my grain of sand to the understanding of the situation there, particularly in the north, and to the search for long-term solutions to the current conflict over land.

Some pertinent background

First let’s look at some relevant dates in recent coast history starting with 1987, when the autonomy law was approved for the region. It was the best law that had ever been passed for indigenous peoples in Latin America and was an inspiration for many of them.

Then between 1991 and 1995, during the Violeta Chamorro government, lumber companies began coming in to exploit forests in various parts of the coast. Among them was Solcarsa, a Korean company that had been given a 60,000-hectare concession to extract lumber in territory that the Mayangna indigenous community of Awas Tingni considered its own, causing the community to file suit against the State of Nicaragua with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR). On August 31, 2001, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights ruled in favor of Awas Tingni and ordered the State to delimit, demarcate and title that community’s lands and adopt legislative, administrative and any other measures necessary to create an effective mechanism for delimiting, demarcating and titling the property of the other indigenous communities, in accordance with their customary law, values, customs and mores. That decision set an important juridical precedent favoring the territorial demands of indigenous peoples throughout Latin America.

The next important date, then, was December of the following year, when Nicaragua’s National Assembly bowed to that decision by approving Law 445 on the Communal Property Regime of the Indigenous Peoples and Ethnic Communities of the Atlantic Coast Autonomous Communities of Nicaragua and the Rivers Bocay, Coco, Indio and Maíz, setting another juridical precedent for the continent’s indigenous peoples. But while the law went into effect in January 2003, it was effectively ignored. February of the following year saw the firstviolent conflict between Miskitu community of Layasiksa and mestizos who had settled in their territory in the 1990s. Forty mestizo families were forcibly expelled, their houses burned down, their crops razed and people even wounded and killed.

The titling of indigenous lands finally got underway in 2005, with the first title covering five Mayangna territories within the Bosawás Biosphere Reserve. Finally, between 2008 and 2015, 37,252 square kilometers of indigenous lands were demarcated and titled in what is now legally and more accurately called the Caribbean coast. That vast expanse of land, larger than El Salvador’s total area of 20,742 square kilometers, covers 31% of Nicaragua’s national territory. In those same years many of those same territories were being declared “protected areas.”

Then came the hard part

After the demarcation and titling came the final phase, which the law terms saneamiento, or title clearance. This is the most complex part because it involves assuring that the titled territory ends up fully in the hands of its indigenous owners. The law establishes that some agreement must be reached with “third parties,” defined in four categories: those who have titles, never “possessed” their property but have “intended” to live on it since 1987; those holding an agrarian title—largely army and contra veterans demobilized after the war ended in 1990; those with titles of any kind that have some defect and are thus illegal; and those who simply settled on land with no title whatever. The law briefly laid out the parameters of the agreement for each category.

Parallel to the prolonged legal demarcation process, new mestizo peasant families continued to move into the indigenous territories, pushing the agricultural frontier further and further into the coast region. Some came over the northern mountain passes of Mulukukú and El Naranjo in the north of the country, then through what is known as the Mining Triangle (the three old mining towns of Bonanza, Rosita and Siuna), while others came through El Ayote and Nueva Guinea in the south. Each individual case must be resolved in line with the law’s guidelines in order for the indigenous people to effectively be the owners of their territories. And if those multitudinous individual cases weren’t enough, over the years more lumber companies have also come in with their machinery as have international cooperation agencies with their projects. In this tense situation, there has been no shortage of violent conflicts between indigenous people and mestizos.

Mestizos now outnumber indigenous people

Two devastating results of this complex dynamic are enormous deforestation of indigenous lands and the fact that the majority of indigenous territories are today occupied by mestizo families. Just one example of this is the emblematic community of Awas Tingni, whose successful case with the IACHR kicked off this whole titling process and whose 733 square kilometers makes it the largest community of what is now known as the Amasau Territory. In 2001, when it won its case and the right to demarcation, 95% of that territory was in Mayangna hands. But by last year, according to declarations to La Prensa by Awas Tingni leader Larry Salomón Pedro on July 25, the situation was reversed, with 92% now settled by mestizo families. When we visited there we could see the figure was only slightly exaggerated. We calculated a more realistic 80%-85%, still a very alarming and complex situation.

There are various explanations for the recent acts of violence on the coast, particularly in the north, as well as others that have been occurring for a very long time. I would like to discuss three, not to throw more fuel on the fire, but rather in the hope of contributing to the thinking on this issue, to open our minds to the search for long-term solutions since it’s very difficult to see any in the near future. We need to look to the future, but naturally understanding that it necessarily begins now…

The local explanation

The first explanation for the conflictiveness between indigenous people and mestizo settlers in the coast region is the one we hear constantly from the media, state officials, religious authorities and members of civil city. It reduces the causes to the local setting and attributes responsibility for the conflict exclusively to the two sides involved. It’s an interpretation very similar to the ones heard in Bolivia, Brazil, Guatemala, Mexico… in fact in all countries with indigenous populations. It’s also found in academia and in Robert Kaplan’s book The Ends of the Earth.

It’s commonly said that the settlers are looking for land to work and are fighting over it with indigenous families defined as lazy and unable and unwilling to work. The conflicts are equally commonly blamed on the determinism of historically warring groups trapped in their past, unable to shake it off without outside intervention that can ”save them” from themselves. This explanation flirts with racism, assuming that both the indigenous people and the peasant settlers are born violent, genetically predisposed to violence. Reducing the conflict to the local territory and the culture that defines them condemns them to be conflictive.

The land trade

Everything in this interpretation suggests that the immediate detonator of the conflict has been and is the land trade. Those who hold to this simplistic view insist that the solution is to punish the “sellers”—those who gave out the agrarian land titles for indigenous land or the lawyers who drew up illegal deeds for coast lands clearly defined in the laws as communal and inalienable—then proceed withthe title clearance process, understood as ordering the mestizo families to pack their bags and agree to be relocated elsewhere, with due compensation if they were swindled by unscrupulous lawyers. All those who interpret the situation from this legalistic perspective believe it’s the State’s responsibility to resolve it, and if it doesn’t then it’s simply part of the problem, not the solution.

Is this a correct perspective? It certainly seems neat enough. The indigenous peoples are the owners and the rest have to leave. But it’s not remotely that simple. It’s not even clear that the settlers’ departure will benefit the indigenous peoples.

A lot of third parties to expel…

A study called “Estudio Especial Sector Agropecuario en la Costa del Caribe Nicaragua” (Special Study of the Agricultural Sector in the Nicaraguan Caribbean Coast), done in 2013 by the very respected Caribbean Coast brothers Dennis and Marcos Williamson together with Edwin Taylor, notes that the total estimated coast population as of June 31, 2010, was 759,383 people, 77% of them mestizo. Of the remaining 23%, they list 17.8% as Miskito and 1.1% as Mayangna, mainly residing in the North Caribbean, and 3% Creole in the South Caribbean. The other 1.1% is made up of two other small groups, exclusively in the south: the Afro-Caribbean Garífunas, whose population is mainly concentrated in Honduras and Belize, and the Ramas, the coast’s third indigenous people. Can you imagine ridding such extensive territories of even a good part of the mestizo population, which is close to 585,000 people?

I say a “good part” because Article 36 of Law 445 says: “Third parties holding an Agrarian Title on Indigenous Lands who have occupied and possessed the land protected under this title have the right to continue possessing it as a matter of law. In case they intend to alienate the property, they shall sell the improvements to the community.” Okay then, a new mental exercise: is it possible to evict even the 50% of the mestizo population that doesn’t fall within that category defined in the law? To throw some 300,000 people off their lands? It might have been possible to move this number of people to new “national lands” 70, 50, perhaps even 40 years ago, but not anymore, because Nicaragua doesn’t have the land to keep extending the agricultural frontier. Those who have been continuing to push it in recent years have now reached the sea. There’s no more land for them to go to that isn’t already owned.

…and a lot of compensation to pay

And what about all those who received defective or illegal titles? The law says ”they will be compensated in order for them to return the lands to the affected indigenous communities.” Is it possible to compensate so many people? Let’s suppose that half of the 37,000 square kilometers—some 16,000—that have been demarcated and titled have to be indemnified. That amounts to 1.6 million hectares. If those who paid lawyers for bum titles are compensated at a conservative $200 per hectare, the operation would cost the State $320 million. Is that manageable? And if it were, would all the evicted families accept that amount and leave their farms with a smile on their face, giving up the houses they built, the improvements they made in pasture land and crops, leaving their churches, their friends, their lives?

And even if all that were viable, can we reasonably assume that so many other landless families “in line” for some place to settle wouldn’t move in to fill those “empty” territories?

The transnational explanation

A second interpretation of the conflicts taking place on the coast is that the problem is as global as it is local and that its causes are transnational, transcending borders. We are in fact currently seeing similar problems of conflict and violence all over Latin America because transnational corporations want to extract the resources in indigenous territories and the governments are granting them permits to do so.

The coast’s early taste of transnationalism

Nicaragua’s “Mosquitia,” as the region was known during colonial times, was historically autonomous. It wasn’t conquered by Spain and was a protectorate of Great Britain under its indirect rule until the British government and the recently independent Nicaraguan government signed a treaty in 1860 in which the former recognized Nicaragua’s sovereignty over the coast. It renounced its protectorate in exchange for the autonomy of the Mosquitia territory (drawn much smaller and redefined as a Reserve) and respect for the Mosquito monarchy Britain had created nearly two centuries earlier. In 1894 that Reserve was invaded by troops from Managua and officially annexed. Its days of autonomy were over. Great Britain relinquished its last claims there in the 1905 Harrison Altamirano Treaty, which guaranteed the native populations exemption from taxes and military service and the right to live in their ancestral territories and villages according to their own customs.

The British and then US interest in maintaining economic enclaves in the coast had a geopolitical aspect. Of course, all world powers still have geopolitical, geostrategic and geo-economic interests in all territories where natural resources abound. The megaprojects and huge mining or lumbering investments we’re seeing all over Latin America today are a continuation of what Nicaragua’s Caribbean coast experienced from the late 1700s until the revolution, first with British mahogany operations and later with North American mining, pine lumbering and shellfish exporting…

Colonizing is an informal means of conquest…

So if the coast conflict isn’t only local or even national, but also transnational, the solution isn’t limited to the use of formal diplomatic means or even of wars between States, because there are also informal paths of conquest. When the United States conquered a good part of Mexican territory in what is today southwest USA, it first sent many settlers to slowly take over lands and make life difficult for the Mexicans for years. Not until 1846 did the US government initiate war with Mexico as the formal means of conquest. In the case of Nicaragua’s Caribbean region, mestizos began migrating after 1894 to take the job posts opened up by the ”incorporation” of the coast into the national structures.

…and so are market mechanisms

Today we know that another informal route of conquest is via market mechanisms.   And this raises the question of why so many mestizos from the Pacific and central parts of Nicaragua have been migrating toward the Coast in such massive numbers in recent decades…

Starting in 1990, Nicaragua experienced harsh structural adjustment policies, like the rest of our continent’s countries: the State’s role was reduced, public services were privatized and the role of social movements was annulled. There was no credit for small-scale production, technical assistance to the rural population was privatized, and even today the bulk of the agricultural credit portfolio, be it of the private commercial banks or micro-financing institutions, goes mainly to develop extensive cattle ranching, a model still based on multiplying the herd not with more efficient practices but rather through “second farms”: buying land from small farmers or pushing them off their lands and cutting down one forest after another. The logic has been the same all over Latin America, whether for growing crops or for raising cattle: increase production by increasing the areas exploited.

With credit canceled for small farmers, the structural adjustment programs caused our poorest rural population to experience what Pope Francis denounced in his UN speech as the “abuse or usury” applied to the poor countries. The pope explained that the international financing institutions (IFIs) have credit systems that punish countries with “oppressive lending systems which, far from promoting progress, subject people to mechanisms which generate greater poverty, exclusion and dependence.” But it’s not only the IFIs; the policies of the private commercial banks asphyxiate the poor as well. We’ve seen it in Nicaragua and we’re still seeing it.

Beef for export, not grains to eat

The structural adjustment programs didn’t stimulate the production of basic foods. To the contrary, they made export products the motor of the economy, with a special focus on cattle. In all Central American countries, cattle became the privileged category for credits by both the IFIs and the private national banks to increase beef exports to the north.

This was analyzed as early as 1981 by environmental researcher Norman Myers in his study “The Hamburger Connection: How Central America’s Forests Became North America’s Hamburgers.” With fast food the answer to the quick lunch imposed in the United States to increase workers’ productivity and performance, the hamburger was the ideal meal. Myers documented a 50% increase in the annual average consumption of beef in the United States between 1960 and 1976, at a time when Central America began to export cheaper beef to the north. Caribbean forests were converted into pasture land to raise cattle for hamburgers… From this transnational vision it’s only a small leap to thinking we all have something to do with the conflict in the coast.

IFIs such as the World Bank financed the development of extensive cattle ranching in Central America, which benefited from an estimated 60% of the credit granted to the region’s governments between 1960 and 1983. The market set the demand and Central America provided the supply. It’s curious that only a few years later these same IFIs have appeared defending the titling of indigenous territories and the conservation of the forests… Are we to believe they changed?

Cattle pushed peasants off their land

These structural adjustment policies led half a million impoverished Nicaraguans to leave their lands and emigrate to Costa Rica while an important number of families preferred to push Nicaragua’s agricultural frontier ever further eastward, occupying or “buying” lands from other peasant families or settling in indigenous territories.

The global market’s trends expel not only families, but also entire communities. Seeing how profitable cattle can be, ranchers decide to multiply the lands dedicated to them. They push into new areas, buying second and third farms that will later be first farms for their sons (hardly ever their daughters), who will in turn seek their own second farms. This global market dynamic provokes situations like the one I describe below.

The bankrupting dynamic of big business

With the market demand for beef, the market for dairy products also develops, and when it opens new roads so the big dairy companies’ trucks can reach the communities of small farmers to collect their milk, those communities paradoxically end up going broke. Here’s a typical dynamic: the community’s cheesemaker, who gets her milk from locals who raise a few cows as well as pigs and also plant maize and beans and other crops, goes broke because the large companies coming in on the new road pay more for the milk than she can, so of course the small farmers no longer sell to her. But with the cheesemaker out of business they no longer get whey from her to feed their pigs and when they have an emergency they can’t turn to her for a loan because she no longer has any money. It’s a dynamic that has repeated itself in rural district after rural district.

Little by little the community economy erodes and finally they all start selling their land, going further and further into the mountains to start again on different land. They fell all the trees to create pastureland so they can raise cattle because they know that will make them money, unlike the forest, and they also know they can get immediate credit for cattle, again unlike for the forest or for cacao… It’s a domino effect that starts with cattle and ends with the hamburger connection and beyond…

So goes this world. In the 1970s Muy Muy was a major mountain pass and therefore a center of commerce. In the 90s that commerce moved to Matiguás, and Muy Muy began to decline. The next decade Río Blanco was the up-and-coming trade center, and since 2010 Mulukukú and Siuna have been emerging as the important mountain passes for trade with those living deep in the hills. That dynamic has also been seen on the eastern side of the northern mountain range: in the 1970s El Tuma was a power, in the 90s it was La Dahlia, in the first decade of the new century it was Waslala and now we’re seeing growth in El Naranjo, on the route to the Mining Triangle.

The same thing happens to families

What happens to places also happens to families. The peasant families from the center of the country called settlers, many of them also of indigenous heritage, explain that they are “like rocks tumbling downhill.” And it’s true: they bounce from farm to farm, each one on less fertile land. One told me: “My grandfather had a little farm in Matiguás, my parents had one in Mulukukú, I have one in Rosita and now my children are in Awas Tingni.”

What can stop those rocks tumbling one after another in an avalanche on a downward slope—not only in Nicaragua but in all countries—because of the market mechanisms accompanied by technology, publicity, research… And these market mechanisms aren’t just pushing cattle-raising; they’re also pushing the cultivation of coca in the TIPNIS territory in Bolivia and soybeans in Brazil’s Amazonia, the extraction of petroleum in Ecuador’s Amazonia… And behind the coca, the soy, the petroleum, the gold and the lumber are actors who are as local as they are global and policies that are as national as they are transnational.

Each locality is a globality

What can stop this? Does anybody really think that getting a good part of the settlers out of the coast will halt that avalanche on its way to the bottom? We’ve already begun to see that the way this world is going now, no actors are acting alone; we’re all interlinked and each locality is a globality.

Cattle ranching interweaves actors from Waspám in the Caribbean Coast to Guatemala, Mexico and the United States. Much of the cacao cultivated in Rama for the German chocolate company Ritter Sport is interwoven with local and global actors. And the same can be said of the gold being extracted in Bonanza or the lumber again coming out of Awas Tingni.

Forests up for grabs?

I can still hear the words of one of those who in the early 1990s were promoting the declaring of ”protected areas” in Nicaragua: “After declaring Bosawás a reserve, we realized there were indigenous populations living inside it that we’d forgotten all about.” But since those were the years of greater consciousness of the value of Latin American’s indigenous people due to the quincentennial celebration/commemoration of the Conquest, had the indigenous people really been forgotten? I don’t think so. The dominant conservationist ideology assumes the forest is the natural result of self-regulation, the same concept conventional economists have about the market. And consonant with that rationale, there’s no reason whatever to consult the indigenous people, since it assumes that indigenous people didn’t produce the forest and don’t belong to it. If that mentality were to recognize that the forests have owners, the market would have problems patenting medicines based on the plants found in them, for example.

Very similar forestry and environmental laws started popping up from Latin America to Africa. Sheer coincidence? Hardly. These laws obey policies that are both national and transnational, allowing the global and national markets to appropriate vast extensions of land and natural resources. With these laws, rivers and forests, even protected areas with already-titled lands are being privatized. These same laws, however, make it very difficult for either indigenous people or peasant families to request permits to exploit lumber. Those who get the permits are the big lumber companies from developed countries that extract quantities of timber with one hand while supporting “development,” “governance,” “gender equity” and “sustainability” projects with the other… So goes the world, provoking an undetainable avalanche of ”rocks.”

The heterogeneous interpretation

Now let’s look at the third interpretation of the causes of the conflicts in the Caribbean Coast. This one takes into account the heterogeneity of the indigenous populations inhabiting that area of the country and their world visions, which are incompatible with market logic. It is very simplistic to see indigenous peoples as a mass, quoting Marx’s reference to the great mass of the French nation, one “formed by the simple addition of homologous magnitudes, much as potatoes in a sack form a sack of potatoes,” all equal, all alike.

It’s very important to take into account that there have historically been tensions among the different indigenous peoples living in the Caribbean coast. The relations between certain Mayangna and Miskitu groups, for example, have traditionally been tense and charged with suffering, with the Mayangnas generally getting the worst of it, expelled by British-armed Miskitus from their original territories over the centuries and pushed to distant places. While that inter-indigenous tension has been ongoing, it doesn’t involve all Miskitus or all Mayangnas.

Miskitu-Mayangna-Solcarsa conflict

When the community of Awas Tingni sued the State of Nicaragua for having let Solcarsa into its territory, it did so after a Miskitu group from a neighboring community made a deal with that lumber company, allowing it to enter a territory that wasn’t Miskitu. Seeing their territory in danger, the Mayangnas filed suit with support from international cooperation. Then in 2009, a year after the titling of the Mayangna territory named Amasau, a group of Miskitus tried to take over part of it. Awas Tingni responded by seeking support from the mestizo families settled there to act as “human boundary markers” and impede the Miskitu advance. Thus the Mayangnas defended their territory with mestizo help. When the following year the MPINICSA lumber company began to extract lumber from Awas Tingni through an agreement with Miskitu groups, the Mayangnas again resisted.

According to one Mayangna leader, all those tensions have created a feeling in the community that “the land isn’t worth it”; that “sooner or later they’re going to take it away from us.” That has accelerated the sale of Mayangna lands to mestizos. As we can see, the recent tensions have their antecedents in tensions experienced both recently and centuries ago that still carry weight today.

The churches undervalued cultural practices

The relations between the Creole and Miskitu populations have also been difficult and explain many of the existing tensions, including in the universities and the churches. Because they speak a brand of English, the Creoles have had an advantage over the Miskitus by relating more easily to the companies and churches that came to the coast in the last century and have now linked up better with the international cooperation projects.

The Moravian Church in Bilwi was originally for both Creoles and Miskitus, but their different cultural identities grew stronger and further apart until they went their separate ways and now there are separate Moravian churches for the two groups. Reynaldo Figueroa, vice rector of the Bluefields Indian and Caribbean University admits that the churches and their authorities didn’t know how to accompany and take into account these two different cultures. It was as if being Christian meant ceasing to be Miskitu or Creole. Given the recent conflicts it’s important that the religious sectors call for dialogue and do it well. No one knows better than they how difficult dialogue is, as they have at times ended up divided themselves.

The churches have had to learn to take the indigenous peoples’ cultures into consideration. One example is the sukias, the wise traditional healers who are very deeply rooted in the culture and organization of the indigenous peoples. Considering them diabolic “sorcerers,” the churches, particularly the Moravian Church, opposed them to such a degree that they drove them underground and today it is debated whether sukias even exist in the communities anymore. The churches censured many of the most cherished celebrations in the Miskitu culture, and took a long time to come around to valuing those traditions. Can you imagine a foreign religion coming in, obliging you to renounce your religion, maligning your symbols and spiritual practices? Again, though, we need to remember that nothing is ever black and white. As recently as 30-40 years ago, when the coast was still mainly occupied by its traditional indigenous peoples and Afro-descendant groups, they considered the Moravian Church the coast’s “national church” due to its steadfast defense of the inhabitants against assimilation efforts by the succession of central governments.

Interplay between groups and individuals

But just as the situation on the coast shouldn’t be seen as a single and simple problem with an easy situation, neither should we see each human group living there as a separate sack of potatoes. Not all Miskitus are homogenous, nor are all Mayangnas, Creoles, mestizos, Ramas or Garífunas. There are Miskitu cattle ranchers as well as mestizo cattle ranchers; some Mayangnas are involved in the trade in wild animals as are some mestizo families; there are Mayangna and Miskitu families that live separately on their little farms just as mestizo families do, and there are Miskitus and Mayangnas who live in communities. Independent of their cultural origin, cattle ranchers respond to the logic of the market, where what matters is money. The cattle rancher doesn’t see trees, he sees cows, and he wants as many “as there are stars in the sky,” as the famous hacendado Señorito Malta was fond of saying in the Brazilian TV serial play “Roque Santeiro.”

Cultural self-identities

That, however, is not to say that cultural self-identities and perspectives don’t distinguish the groups that cohabit the Caribbean coast. While the different cosmovisions and cultural patterns on the coast are ever more permeated, they are still strong.

The mestizo culture is agri-culture

The logic of a mestizo family that has come from communities in the center of the country, albeit not necessarily in a single bound, and has claimed less than 50 hectares of land, is to make improvements on that land, which it sees as its own possession. This newly arrived family starts by planting maize and beans then within three or four years turns that land, once covered in forests and not very apt for crops, into natural grassland and begins to graze cattle on it, clearing still more land for basic grains or plantains. Its mentality is to diversify its crops for self-subsistence and have a few large and small livestock, so it’s never without its pigs and hens. Its dream is to turn that plot into a farm and its strategy is to live there and improve it with the sweat of the family labor. For mestizos, the value of the land resides in how many improvements and investments they can make in it. Their culture is agri-culture.

The Mayangna culture is forest-culture

In general Mayangna families live in communities and value the forest, water and land as the space that gives them everything in life: food, medicines and material for their houses and canoes. Many of their communities are located in the mountainous mining triangle, near rivers, which are for fishing, recreation, bathing and washing their clothes. Inside the forest they have areas where they plant beans, cassava and other root crops, plantains, etc. They also diversify crops and move from one place to another to cultivate, but without affecting either the forest or the water. Their sense of land ownership isn’t the same as that of the mestizos. Their culture is forest-culture.

The Miskitu culture is freshwater-, saltwater- and plains-culture

The culture of the Miskitus, who occupy a much larger area in the northern Caribbean coast, is more nuanced than that of the Mayangnas, influenced by the lifestyle evolved over time where they live. Although like the Ramas and Mayangnas they understand land as communal territory, not an individual plot, they themselves define three distinct sub-cultures: those who live in fishing communities along the seacoast (“saltwater”) or the rivers (“freshwater”) or in agricultural communities in the largely treeless plains north of Bilwi and south of Waspam.

The Afro-Caribbean culture is water-culture

The Creole and Garífuna populations came to the Caribbean coast in ships as slaves. They came by sea and still today find economic and cultural solutions in the sea. The rural Garífuna and Creole communities in the south Caribbean region have always been tied to fishing in the sea or lagoons, which is ever harder now given the voracious globalization of fishing and its wasteful techniques. Urban Creoles have always forged relations with transnational fishing companies or cruise ships, facilitated by their English skills, be it Creole or “standard” English, depending on their schooling. Many young Creoles, both men and women, dream of “shipping out” for months at a time, doing whatever job they can get. Those from Bluefields and the Corn Islands have always felt very close to the population of the Caribbean islands, and communication between them has always been very fluid. Their culture is water-culture.

Different values for different peoples

Figuratively, we can see the Creoles moving in ships by sea, the coast’s three indigenous peoples in canoes by river through the forests, and the mestizos on horseback over their farms. Creoles without water, indigenous peoples without forests and peasants without land are beings without a soul. What has value for the coast’s indigenous peoples is the forest and what it contains; while for the cattle ranchers it’s their herd roaming the cleared land; for the peasants, the improvements they’ve made on their plot; and for Afro-Caribbeans the seas and lagoons teeming with fish. In short, very different visions of the same region and its uses.

You are what you eat

The mestizo peasants are children of corn. The Miskitus and Mayangnas are children of wabul, a sort of porridge made of mashed plantain or peach palm with fish or coconut oil. And the Afro-descendants are children of rondon or rundown, a fish soup with root vegetables cooked in coconut milk.

The superstructure is getting top-heavy while community organization gets weaker

Something that needs to be kept very much in mind when interpreting what’s happening in the Caribbean Coast and visualizing the difficulties of a short-term solution is the erosion suffered by the organization of all the peoples on the coast, be they indigenous, Afro-descendant or mestizo peasant. In formal terms, there are more laws, more regulations and more authorities for the indigenous peoples, layers upon layers of power: at the community level there are the wihtas (judges) and the síndicos (in charge of dealing with local resource and environmental issues); then moving upward are the municipal governments, the new territorial governments, the two regional governments, and of course the powerful national government. With respect to political or socio-cultural representation, there are also the Council of Elders, the regional indigenous party Yatama and the churches.

Many of these structures came in with the autonomy, while the traditional local organizations and authorities in the communities have eroded and their functions have changed. The Councils of Elders, síndicos and wihtas must now respond more outside of their communities and territories, while the control mechanisms of their own communities have been weakened.

Among other things this weakening presupposes that the communities can’t pressure as strongly for transparent accountability over the income entering from agreements on their resources. Sadly, the families seem to have made their peace with that by rotating síndicos in many communities: “We change them each year so others can grab something too.” Over time the reason for organizing has shifted from the need to resolve shared difficulties to having posts to benefit from, giving people the vision that even community organization has more to do with money than anything else.

Their own traditional forms of organization, including the sukias and other local authorities, and the standards ruling the communities over the past two centuries have all suffered the same erosion. Many cultures in the world have taken advantage of ideas and resources from national and international organizations to strengthen their own culture and organization, but in the coast, money; the imposition of the cross, particularly with the new churches that have come in; the caciquismo of the past 70 years; and the decade-long war of the eighties, displacing whole communities, dividing families and causing tens of thousands of refugees in neighboring countries have all weakened and unbalanced these populations, shattering their traditional sense of cultural, physical and communal harmony. We shouldn’t find it strange that indigenous leaders are currently being charged with selling legally unsaleable indigenous lands, or with participating in lumber businesses that are devastating the forests. They aren’t just individual crimes; we need to understand that their roots extend backwards beyond the present and are linked to both national and transnational social irresponsibility.

Obstacles to civilization… or is “civilization” an obstacle?

If we don’t take all this into account, we’ll continue reading the conflict in erroneous ways. Centuries ago it was thought that indigenous and Afro-descendant peoples were not very civilized, to say the least, and were enemies of progress. Many of those on Nicaragua’s Pacific side, for example, still see the Caribbean coast populations as “backward,” still in pre-development phases far from modernity, a view frequently found throughout Latin America. Peru’s Nobel Prize winner Vargas Llosa, a modern liberal intellectual, takes that thinking to another level when he says indigenous peoples aren’t only “backward” but actually an “obstacle” to civilization, harking back to the 19th-century thinking of Argentina’s Sarmiento, who believed the indigenous population of his country would have to be eliminated if Argentina was to develop.

There’s a theory in the academic literature called “path dependence.” It holds that once a path is decided upon there’s no turning back and that any claims, demands or protests strengthen rather than change the initial decision… until at some moment another crossroads is reached that opens new options, and a new decision has to be made.

We could apply this theory to our old and deeply rooted ideas to understand the coast’s indigenous, Afro-descendant and peasant populations.   But people criticizing and questioning that outmoded viewpoint only reinforced it. Laws were passed all over Central America to promote coffee and cattle that involved expropriating indigenous lands and obliging its historical owners to work for free, otherwise they were considered shirkers and jailed. As this viewpoint persists even today, we continue hearing what the market currently tells us: “The indigenous peoples will disappear, as will the peasantry; history cannot be stopped” …unless, that is, we are now coming up to another crossroads and are capable of breaking that thinking, expanding our view and changing mentalities.

Let’s try putting ourselves in their shoes

Those of us who like to call ourselves friends of indigenous peoples must revise our thinking. Academics and consultants acting in solidarity with indigenous peoples are doing studies with them full of ideas about “gender,” “payment for environmental services,” “governance,” “resilience,” “sustainable livelihoods,” “land tenure” or “empowerment,” all of which are theories invented outside their reality, although backed with resources. We’re studying their reality on the go, without ever stopping to listen to them.

To decide what has to be done to start resolving the tensions on the Caribbean coast, let’s put ourselves for a moment in the place of its indigenous families. They’ve seen their forest areas shrunk, the animals in the forest disappear, the water levels in the rivers fluctuate, the fish and shellfish catches dwindle, and more and more international cooperation projects depart. They know the lumber business has dropped somewhat and the soil fertility isn’t what it used to be or doesn’t yield what it used to, yet they’re seeing ever more people living in their territory. In short, they have less food, less money and less land with which to make ends meet. Obviously their desperation is mounting. But on the other hand, if all the mestizo communities leave the territory, where will they get the cash to buy salt, sugar, clothes…?

Now let’s try to think like them. We, for example, are comfortable with the concept of “land tenure,” but it doesn’t even exist in the indigenous vocabulary; they don’t conceive of someone “owning” a piece of land… The concept means nothing to them because it assumes that land equals individual ownership, with marking posts and deeds, even if written on wrinkled paper with a few signatures. They can understand owning a piece of paper, but not the land.

Do the majority of the indigenous communities have individual plots of land? Of what I’ve understood from being among them, land is at the same time communal and individual, tangible and intangible. The concept of land isn’t just the ground, but includes forest and water. It’s not just a place; it’s life itself. In Managua we talk about “my property” whereas indigenous families say “our territory,” and in so doing their sense of possession is different than ours, which is very influenced by market logic. Our way of seeing separates land from forest, land from life, communities from their surroundings. Certainly for the indigenous communities, also for the rural-based Afro-descendants, and I’d even go so far as to say for peasant families, market logic doesn’t explain everything, nor is it what most moves them.

Understanding the indigenous peoples requires expanding our view. It means submerging ourselves. It means putting ourselves in the shoes of a Mayangna or Miskitu community. With few exceptions they’ve never experienced individual property enclosed with barbed wire or cord fences. As families they’ve always worked on a little area for three or four years then moved to another so the first one can regenerate, always back and forth within the same territory, to plant, to exist. They’ve heard the words “manzana” or “hectare” of land and know they refer to land measurements, but they’ve never used them because they’ve never needed them. Nor do they use the words “buy” and “sell” in relation to land, because they’ve never bought land nor has it entered their heads to sell what they have. When the mestizo families came and told them they wanted to buy land and the indigenous people agreed to sell them some, they didn’t believe it meant “take over ownership” of that land. They thought it meant the peasants were paying to be able to plant there for two or three years, like they do. And they didn’t know that 20 or 50 hectares was something quite so big or that the mestizos were going to pound in border markers and not allow them into that big area anymore to hunt or look for medicinal herbs… So now what are they supposed to do? As you can see, a lot of misunderstandings underlie these conflicts.

Build bridges of dialogue

What’s the way out of the coast conflict? In my view, the first thing we have to do is recognize the complexity of that reality. It isn’t any one of the three interpretations I described above; it’s some of all of them and more. A dialogue needs to be proposed, one that starts at home, in the hope we’ll know how to listen to each other and that the universities and churches will be self-critical. The universities need to review their curricula and the churches need to recognize the existence of multiple spiritualties and surmount their own divisions. Only by accepting the complexity and being self-critical can they help build bridges of dialogue.

Speaking to the US Congress, Pope Francis pointed out to the legislators that “your duty is to build bridges.” We have to build some to understand what’s happening in the Caribbean coast. I think one bridge has to be built that reduces both the economic and cultural inequalities among all in Nicaragua. Despite the deforestation and the advance of the cane or peanut haciendas, immense spaces where there are no trees, there are trees on peasant farms. I believe we have to build a bridge between peasant families and indigenous communities based on environmental care in order to address climate change.

Land rental?

Building bridges to complete the title clearance stage established in Law 445 could involve a land rental project. If it were established that non-indigenous people cannot have more than 50 hectares of land in indigenous territories, we might just find the beginning of a solution, because the big cattle ranchers who want 500, 1,000 or even 3,000 hectares won’t want to be there. If a maximum of 50 hectares could be agreed on and the peasant families had to pay an annual rent per hectare, this could be a bridge; it would give land to the mestizos and money to the indigenous communities. But for this to provide a solution, the indigenous organizations would have to strengthen themselves so the rent money they receive from the mestizos would be transparently administered and there would be at least minimum social auditing by the community. Unless the indigenous organizations improve, any resource coming in would only endanger the communities.

A land rental project, which is contemplated in Law 445, would be compatible with the peasant families diversifying their crops and combining annuals with perennials large and small livestock with patches of forest. By the same token, if some indigenous families want to diversify their own productive activities, they shouldn’t need more than 50 hectares per family in addition to the communal patches of forest and receiving incentives for maintaining them, being paid for their “environmental services” in line with the Sustainable Development Objectives the United Nations just approved as the 2030 Agenda. That would produce a bridge, an alliance of indigenous peoples, peasants and Afro-descendants.

Adversity can bring opportunity

There are conflicts in the coast, but the word conflict has two sides: confrontation and cooperation. Bridges are built looking at the cooperation side. There are always opportunities behind adversities and I believe the current conflict on the coast is an opportunity to learn and to change.

The solutions to the coast’s problems can’t be black and white. We have to find creative ways to get out from under this tension. There have to be social arrangements that allow some bridges. Only societies that organize themselves manage to advance and get laws that really improve their lives. But in the 1980s the revolution taught us that without communities that claim and demand their rights, without women and men who help build their own destiny, the approval of the best laws and application of the fairest measures mean nothing. Bringing in resources will serve for naught. The history of struggle of so many peoples has taught us that there’s no point fighting for good laws if afterwards we don’t participate in their application. The current dynamic on the coast is an opportunity to learn. And the more we learn, the more we’ll be able to change.

It helps to recall the old idea of stewardship: of being aware that we have a short life in this world and therefore have to work for our society and our planet in those few years; we have to give the best of ourselves to sow more and better life. And to do that well, the most urgent thing is to learn. Metanoia is the translation of the Greek word for both learn and change. It’s also a word that appears in the Gospel as a synonym for conversion, for change of heart.

Time to learn; time to change

To learn is to change. And to learn something you have to get to the bottom of it, to investigate, scrutinize, analyze, discern it. The market and its power today is a human project and that means we can change it. Uruguay has succeeded in increasing its production of dairy products by more than 50% without deforesting. How did they do it? By changing with the knowledge that makes us change.

We will only change with human communities and organizations that learn. It isn’t right to defend “indigenous culture” blindly against the market, nor is it honest to defend “the market” at the cost of indigenous cultures. Something combined and creative has to emerge. We must produce something new as a fruit of this conflict and so many others happening all over the world. It’s time to learn; time to change.

René Mendoza Vidaurre (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) is a research associate of IOB-Antwerp University (Belgium) and of the Nitlapan-UCA Research and Development Institute, (Nicaragua) and works with the Wind of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/). He specializes in facilitating organizational innovation and development processes.

From: www.envio.org.ni vol. 34. No. 411

Innovating with land leasing

Innovating with land leasing

René Mendoza Vidaurre *

Where water passes, there is life (E. Valdés S.J.)

In a previous article we invited people to search for alternatives for the so-called “Central American dry corridor”, a zone that is an expression of the effects of climate change and social injustice in the region, part of it being low quality soils and populated by peasant families expelled from another area dominated by monocropping haciendas (cotton, sugar cane, peanuts…) on historically high quality land and used for extensive ranching (See: http://peacewinds.org/the-drought-social-injustice-and-the-opportunity-for-change/ ). This search for alternatives is even more urgent on learning that, according to the 2015 Climate Risk Index, between 1994 and 2013 Honduras, Nicaragua and Guatemala are among the 10 countries most affected in the world by climate events (See: https://germanwatch.org/en/download/10343.pdf). In this article we discuss one of those options that is applicable to all the areas of the country and valid for Latin America. Based on the innovative work of the Rural Development Commission (CODER), supported by the Irish Catholic Agency for Development, TROCAIRE, in the dry municipalities of San Francisco, Cinco Pinos, Santo Tomás and San Pedro in the Chinandega Province (Nicaragua), we contend that a change in the rules of the leasing system as a result of the organized advancement of rural families would help to improve the efficiency, equity and agricultural and non-agricultural sustainability, and in the long term revert the drought.

Leasing system

Para-phrasing R. Fallas S.J., peasant families without land are like beings without souls, land is accessed via the family (e.g. inheritance), community, state and the market. According to Deere and León (2003, “The Gender Asset Gap: Land in Latin America” in: World Development 31.6), women acquire land more through inheritance, while men do so via the community, state and market. The leasing market is a way of accessing the land, of increasing efficiency in agriculture, and equity in terms of small producer access; so 41% of all the land in Europe is leased, 41% in the United States, 32% in Africa, 16% in Asia and 12% in Latin America (de Janvry, Marcours y Sadoulet, 2002, “El acceso a tierras a través del arrendamiento” in: IADB, El acceso a la tierra en la agenda de desarrollo rural). The experience of France stands out, with more than 60% of their land areas leased, with a stable leasing law since 1946 that allows whole farms to be leased for periods of up to 18 years, transferable rights (in the case of the death of the spouse and/or children), and with leasing prices set each year by a provincial commission; and it is a legislation that protects family agriculture, for example, with an egalitarian law on inheritances. These accomplishments in France are primarily due to decades of effort on the part of the peasant movement to access land without having to buy it, nor wait for an agrarian reform. (See: http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-333.html; http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-55.html).

Following de Janvry, Marcours and Sadoulet (2002), leased land tends to be used by families who have little land and by family workers who voluntarily are more productive, that is the reason for their greater efficiency; mostly the transfer is from large land owners to small scale leasers, that is the reason for the poverty reduction; while the very imperfect and biased land markets favor the large producers who buy land off of the small ones, who have less possibilities of buying land (de Janvry, Platteau, Gordillo y. Sadoulet, 2001, “Access to Land and Land Policy Reforms”, in: de Janvry, Gordillo, Platteau and Sadoulet, Access to Land, Rural Poverty and Public Action). Why then is leasing in Latin America at only 12%? From the perspective of the owners, property rights are weak, the laws frequently change and their application (and conflict resolution) is costly; information is inadequate to do a good selection of renters, the local social capital is weak for honoring the leasing contract, and frequently agrarian reforms happen that later do not have registered titles, and when they have titles, their leasing is prohibited. From the perspective of the renters, their few resources limit their access to the market, they lack animals and credit, the opening of roads makes food production for their own use less necessary, even though the higher quality land is in demand for intensive crops (e.g. tobacco) from producers with more capital; and we would add, the producer families have weak organizations and their influence over policy is controlled.

These factors generate lack of confidence among the owners to lease their land for a number of years, and even less to the same people, and makes them resist transacting with people outside their circle of trust; and the same with the renter who is afraid of the abuses of the owner. The low level of leasing means a lot of land gets left unused or is used for extensive livestock raising. Even this low percentage of leasing is done for a year or less, which is why it is only for basic grain crops; both situations, extensive livestock raising and only annual crops, in the long term, contribute to soil erosion and the factors that contribute to the drought, in addition to increasing poverty.

Nevertheless, in the last 10 years there is a new context that could invigorate the leasing systems: drought is reducing the amount of feed and the water for the cattle herd, the large ranchers are not getting into farming because of the high costs of supervising the labor force; people who are migrating from dry zones, are leaving their lands in the hands of some relative; and more and more the end of the agricultural frontier is being felt, many times even with increasing violence on the Caribbean Coast. The reduction in the profitability of extensive agriculture is also felt due to the fact that the land is already “worn out”, which requires intensive and ecologically sustainable agriculture and ranching. What is the response to this new context?

The experience of CODER, an innovative seed

The four municipalities (San Francisco, Santo Tomás, San Pedro and Cinco Pinos), founded over more than 100 years ago, illustrate the description of Latin America and this emerging context. The large rancher is seeing their grazing land dry up, and calculates that the costs of supervision are high if he decides to hire labor to raise basic grains, while the peasant families with little or no land see themselves forced to migrate to ensure food for their families. In the face of this situation the leasing system offers some relief, which, improved through the mediation of CODER, indicates a path with good transformative potential. See the Table.

 

  Land Owner Leasing family
Traditional leasing -provides land for one agricultural cycle (4 months) for C$1000, and whether the harvest is good or bad, he gets the post harvest stubble for his cattle, valued at C$1000, in addition to the fodder that grows on the rented manzana.

-can hire labor of the leasing family to weed or do domestic work

-grows corn (10qq, C$3000) and beans (10 qq, C$4000); 60% of production costs

-assumes 100% risk if the harvest is bad.

-the land is left ‘worn out” and the following cycle he seeks out another “hill” to plant

-leadership is assumed by the male

Improved leasing (with the mediation of CODER) -provides land for first planting for 3 years at C$1300/yr (a roll of barbed wire each year that costs C$900, in addition to 4 days of work that adds up to C$400).

-good rows for fodder and living and dead barriers (prevents soil erosion due to rain), estimated value of C$1000/mz/yr

-whether the harvest is good or bad he gets the use of the stubble valued at C$1100; it is better stubble

-grows corn (12qq, C$3600) and beans (12 qq, C$4800); 65% of the production costs. In year 3 production increases and 60% of production costs.

-stays on the same area for 3 years

-assumes 100% of the risk if the harvest is bad, but risk of bad harvest is lessened.

-leadership is assumed by the female.

“Traditional leasing” produces economic advantages for both, but only for one year, then the land is left in poorer shape and continues to be exposed to erosion; neither the leaser nor the owner want to continue with this relationship in the same area; in fact, in other municipalities like Palacagüina the ranchers see themselves forced to lease out their land without charge, under the condition that they leave them the stubble from the crop, even though the power asymmetry persists and many times the property owner forces the renter to harvest their corn early. The “improved leasing” creates greater advantages: year after year both earn more economically, the land also improves its quality and erosion is prevented; there is a smaller risk of a bad harvest because of the soil conservation works, which also means better post harvest stubble for the rancher; the corn or beans are better used because the leasing families led by women, in addition to ensuring food for their families, transform the corn into tortillas to sell, and the beans they sell by the pound and also cooked; relationships of trust are built between renting women and land owners, which could augur negotiation processes that would further improve the leasing system.

The key to this “improved leasing” is in the fact that the arrangement is for 3 years instead of only 1, which allows investing in soil quality, that benefits the leaser (more production), and the owner (soil quality and better post harvest stubble). This is possible thanks to the fact that CODER, a local association, has leadership that comes from a peasant-farmer background, and have had interchanges of experience with French agronomists around leasing (See: http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-355.html), which has given them legitimacy to be able to be guarantors of the notarized, signed leasing agreement,  mediators in conflict resolution, and providers of technical assistance to BOTH actors.

Introduction of changes to the leasing system

“Improved leasing” shows us a path that, changing the rules and including coordination among various actors, can have a better economic, social and environmental impact. This path speaks to us of the urgency of expanding it, because 3 years are not enough for adding permanent crops like citrus, coffee, cacao, fruit or wood or energy trees, which also would contribute to the cattle feed and protecting areas of water replenishment. When the 3 years come to an end, the actors go back to the pre-leasing situation, including its consequences for soil erosion, scarcity of cattle feed, and human migration. The same happens with the gender relations that tend to regress. How can sustainable changes be generated in the leasing rules? We propose what we are calling “leasing plus”: reform the agrarian law to permit 15 year and even 20 year leases, ensuring legal stability so that those contracts are respected, and include reform of the law so that inheritances be given equally to sons and daughters, which would allow for those children who might not want to work the land to lease it out; these reforms, especially their sustainability, will be possible to the extent that producer families organize and promote them.

These results require inclusive processes. Local organizations like CODER, in coordination with DIRAC (Alternative Conflict Resolution Office of the judicial branch), could facilitate negotiations between renters and owners, and conflict resolution that gets beyond the abuses toward more lasting social arrangements and more adequate laws. Research institutions could study the various forms of leasing, including sharecropping, and think about leasing to groups, leases with the option to buy, community or cooperative supervision of the leases. Financial and technical and organizational assistance institutions could contribute to awakening in the landless families and the owners a long term vision and an effort and transformation awareness.

This leasing plus could contribute to efficiency, social and gender equity, and environmental sustainability, strengthening the peasant and farmer forms of production. And with this, the drought would give way to diversified zones with protected water sources, understanding that truly where water passes, there is life. Under this umbrella, the biggest challenge will no longer be accessing land, but being a farmer and being an organized farmer.

* René (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/), an associate researcher with the IOB-Antwerp University (Belgium) and of the Nitlapan-UCA Research and Development Institute (Nicaragua).

** I am grateful to P. Merlet and J. Bastiaensen for their comments and suggestions for improving the article.

 

The drought: social injustice and the opportunity for change

The drought: social injustice and the opportunity for change

René Mendoza Vidaurre*

“Behind adversities are opportunities” goes the saying. After the rust that affected thousands of families working in the coffee chain, repeatedly we heard about the adversities of the drought: “the first planting season was lost”, “the families´food reserves have been used up”, “the water table has been reduced”, “there is a risk that the second planting will not happen..nor the third,” “insects are appearing like the flying locust, the cotton weevil, mites and the pink hibiscus woodlouse”, “cattle raising is at risk due to the scarcity of water for drinking and for grazing,” “exodus from the communities”, “increase of cattle rustling because of the economic crisis,” “ microcredit is protecting itself in the face of the drought.” Without a doubt, it is important to be concerned about the effects of the drought in the short term. In this article we call attention to the fact that the drought is being understood as if it were only a natural phenomenon, and the human activities that contribute to it are being ignored. Understanding these actions and their impact would allow it to be seen as an opportunity for thinking about ways of overcoming the challenges that the drought imposes, and developing a possible long term perspective.

The Central American dry corridor

The FAO (2012, Estudio de caracterización del corredor seco centroamericano http://reliefweb.int/sites/reliefweb.int/files/resources/tomo_i_corredor_seco.pdf) identifies the dry corridor of the region. Out of a total of 75 million hectares in the region (Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua), the corridor covers 15.9 million hectares, in other words 21%; out of this total 42% is low effect drought, 50.5% large effect drought, and 7.5% has severe effects. See map.

corredor seco CA

 

What is alarming is that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency of the US (NOAA), in addition to confirming the presence of El Niño, points out the possibility that it might be extended into the first months of 2016 (prolonged dry season and early withdrawal of rainy season), and on top of that, concludes that the below normal rainfall for the months of August to October will affect the dry corridor and beyond in each country. (See map below; Central America Agricultural Council, Climate Change and Holistic Risk Management Technical Group, 2015, Current status of El Niño, climate perspective, implications for farming and recommendations for regional measures; http://infoagro.net/archivos_Infoagro/Regatta/biblioteca/ES_S%C3%ADntesisWebinarEstad.pdf).

 

perspective climatica CA

Causes that generate the drought

It is said that the behavior of the current rainfall is similar to that of 1976 and 1982, that the drought is similar to that of 1997, and that the seriousness of the situation is that the drought goes back to last year, 2014. In other words, the drought is becoming something structural. What has caused this? The absence of humidity in the atmosphere, which is made worse by the increasing variability of the rainfall, including the increase in temperature, particularly on the ocean´s surface. This variability has been caused by human actions that generally are interconnected. First, deforestation causes soil erosion, which is why the soil then retains less water, the water is less able to infiltrate and the soil loses its fertility, so then flooding increases, and the creeks and springs disappear, rivers dry up, crop yields decrease, and become more vulnerable to rainy season droughts and infestations, and with this the families lose their capacity to maintain themselves. Secondly, this deforestation is accompanied by another chain of pressures that include the “hamburger effect” (fast food in the United States at the cost of the forests of Central America), increase in extensive cattle raising, the advance of the monocropping haciendas (producing sugar cane, peanuts, sorghum, tobacco…) on large areas emptied of trees, land concentration that expels families from their communities, and the consequent reduction of diversified farms and manual agro-industry (cheesemakers, grinders, cacao drying…). Third, this dynamic of deforestation and land concentration is accompanied by financing, research and technology – by and for – large monocropping production, but it is dressed up as modern economics and even the first “victim” of the drought. There the drought appears as a “natural” phenomenon, as a matter of “those poor” subsistence peasants, and organizations discussing the size of its impact.

One hypothesis for any territory in the dry corridor for the last 70 years would be that the combined effect of these three factors (degradation of natural resources, concentration of the land and accompanying chain of pressures) has increased the variability of the rainfall, and has resulted in less capacity to resist the impact of the drought, which is a human result that underlies the current of injustice “an underwater riptide”.

Opportunity for change

If the drought expresses the social injustice and the merchantilization of the land (and the climate), and it is a human outcome, then it is a changeable phenomenon. Recalling the words of Chesterton, “playing the violin when Rome is burning is amoral, thinking about a hydraulic system is the task of the researcher”, thinking about strategies for overcoming the drought is more than suggesting technical solutions (communal gardens, raising iguanas, drought resistant crops like pineapple, reforestation, agro-forestry and silvo-pastoral practices, protection of water sources, irrigation systems in harmony with the profitability of the crop and without affecting the water basin, combination of agriculture and ranching, and diversified farms), it is thinking about how to implement over the long term. What follows indicates some points along those lines.

First, organizing research and experimentation in specific territories with mostly producer families, doing it in a participatory way so that the families and the researchers can build awareness about the fact that the drought is not “a punishment from God”, nor something “natural”, to just “monitor”, but a changeable phenomenon, and that under certain conditions crops can be rotated and farms diversified, capable of feeding the soil, so that it retains more water, has a greater capacity to allow the water to infiltrate, produces more, and thus families become more capable of maintaining themselves and bettering their situation. In this process one learns to observe, analyze and act preventively, as a family from the municipality of Cinco Pinos (Nicaragua) recounted: “if we plant with irrigation in the dry season, we notice that the insects pile up in green places, in the barrier of corn or sugar cane, and we can fight them there before they get to the crop; while in the rainy season they are all over.”

 Second, what is crucial is awakening among the families a vision of change on their farms and their communities, that they cultivate a long term perspective, and that they hold to that vision. One family: “dreams of the day my friends visit me and say, ´how beautiful your farm is´; here the entire family is working to see that day.” This awakening and perseverance is possible when various families, aware of the fact that alone they cannot overcome the drought, organize into cooperatives, associations or some form of community, and do so in alliance with organizations or institutions of the region that are capable of putting on the shoes of those families, commit to their formation, and provide follow up to one another for various years.

Finally, creating the conditions so that the two previous points can become possible. Financial institutions, instead of “shielding themselves” (reducing credit to non-ranching families or vetoing credit to dry zones), increasing their loans to intelligent investments that would allow them to move past the drought. Universities can create interdisciplinary certificates on development in high risk dry territories with the participation of rural leaders and professionals, with follow up intervals on experimentation processes. Commercial enterprise chains that buy products from the dry corridor within a framework of subcontracting relationships for various periods. Fiscal policies that provide incentives for sustainable productive diversification, and penalize land concentration and monocropping.

The drought is an opportunity for change. One family in San Francisco del Norte (Nicaragua) is clear about it, “I am planting land…that is what is going to feed us, and that is what is going to be my inheritance, that is our common home.” Our greatest challenge is to quit planting drought and to contribute to this “common home.”

* René (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator with the Winds of Peace Foundation (WPF) (http://peacewinds.org/research/), an associate researcher with  IOB-University of Antwerp (Belgium) and the Research and Development Institute , Nitlapan-UCA (Nicaragua).

Towards intelligent farming

Towards intelligent farming

René Mendoza Vidaurre and Edgar Fernández

Talking about innovation is in style. It tends to be presented as an accumulation of useful things for the market, defining it as resulting from the economy and as a matter of engineering, without responding to the question of the why and for what end these innovations have. According to the OECD (2005[i]), innovation is the “implementation of a new or significantly improved product, a new process, a new method of marketing, or a new organizational method in business practices, workplace or external relations.” Something “new” emerges from questioning the old, the unjust, where the social, economic, political and cultural are embedded. In this article we talk about the why and for what end behind innovation in farming, we describe four innovations in Nicaragua, Mexico and Uruguay, and we conclude with the importance of creating favorable conditions for innovating.

The why and for what end of innovation

Europe saw the passage from farming to industry, and then from industry to technology, from peasant to worker, as something inexorable, determined by economics, and as an expression of large innovations. Central America appears to corroborate this perspective: the crops of coffee, bananas, sugar, cotton and meat generated 70% of the foreign exchange in 1978, while in 2006 it was only 11%, in that same period family remittances went from 3 to 38%, other exports outside of Central America went from 12 to 16%, free trade zone from 0 to 11%, and other services dropped from 10 to 9% (Rosa, 2008: 9)[ii]. Following these figures, inexorably farming will disappear, and if it persists, it will be through “innovations” responding to the market through agribusiness and the plantations of large companies or haciendas.

Agro-exports are not all of agriculture, nor is agriculture just farming. Even though in percentage terms agro-exports dropped, it is due more to the fact that the total amount of foreign exchange increased some four times, certainly the weight of agro-exports in the decisions was replaced by remittances and free trade zones. Nevertheless, the amount of foreign exchange generated by the agro-export crops in absolute terms increased, like non traditional agriculture that is found in “other exports outside of Central America.”; missing in that calculation is forestry products (e.g. wood), rural tourism, and the fact that the products are not just generic, like before, they have additional added value. For example, coffee is generic, specialty, organic, has different brands, and exported by various chains of actors, it is roasted, ground and packaged for the national market, and grows with the coffee shops. In this way, the inexorable disappearance of agriculture is left in doubt; agriculture is more than farming. And it is growing.

It is growing because it is mostly in the hands of small producers; they gained space even in coffee, meat and bananas, while cotton disappeared and sugar continues in the hands of large enterprises. ECLAC, FAO and IICA (2013: 173[iii]) estimate that in Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) there are 17 million exploitations under family agriculture (60 million people), which represents more than 75% of all production units in nearly all the countries of the LAC.

From this reality, innovations would not be useful things that would turn 60 million people into workers and migrants. This would be dispossesion. Innovations are “something new” (OECD, 2005) to the extent that this “normal” inexorability is questioned, and to the extent that the changes are understood of an agriculture that goes beyond just merchandise (commodities).

Inspiring innovations

The following innovations are expressive of an agriculture on farms that is sustainable and belongs to a peasantry that is progressing. The first is the organization of agriculture into 5 floors, from the years of the 1970s in La Concepción, south of Masaya, Nicaragua. On the first floor are crops that are vine plants, like summer squash and pumpkin, that are close to the soil, followed by coffee, then bananas and plantains, then citrus, and on the fifth floor avocados, mangos and wood trees; currently the coffee floor is being replaced by grafted fruit trees (H. Hernández, personal communication, 6-30-2015). This innovation was due to: the peasant resistance back in 1960 to the harassment of the cattle haciendas in the plateau north of Masaya, that later became cooperatives on confiscated areas (1980s), and in the last 10 years are once again in the hands of large peanut and sugar cane enterprises; to the fact that they have soils rich in organic material, and the microclimate and biodiversity unique to that plateau, zones with elevations and seasonal rivers that flow into the Masaya laguna; and to the family organization that intensifies the small areas, reordering them into “floors” to the extent that the women go into commerce.

The second innovation is in coffee in San Juan del Río Coco (SJRC) (Nicaragua) between 1960 and 1979. First, in the 1960s the principal farmers understood that the coffee in the country was the worst in the region, that Costa Rica and El Salvador have double and triple the production of Nicaragua (Delgado, 1961)[iv]; in SJRC the Arabica coffee had low yields, which is why a group of farmers experimented with varieties, disseminating the use of Bourbon and Caturra, along with pruning and shade regulation. Secondly, they introduced beekeeping to pollinate the coffee fields, and in noticing the deficit in the supply of flowers for the bees, established gardens, did selective weeding (leaving plants with flowers), and arranged for the purchase of beehive frames from farmers in El Jícaro. Thirdly, they introduced drying kilns for drying coffee and transporting it in ”dry parchment” form to Palacagüina, and they made arrangements for bringing in coffee harvesters from Palacagüina and the Pacific side of the country. That group were students of their reality that envisioned improvements, they organized to bring in experts, they had the “real workers” learn from the experts, they reorganized their farms and expanded their social networks to Palacagüina and to El Jícaro. As a result, the coffee, honey and banana production in SJRC tripled, their biodiversity improved, their social capital expanded and their thinking was more autonomous of the Somoza government.

The third innovation is the reordering of coffee farms with beekeeping in Mexico, that emerged in reaction to the shadeless coffee haciendas that are renewed every 8-15 years and that are affecting the pollinators (Flores et al, 2006[v]). Pollination is important for coffee, also important is a coffee field with shade that is renewed every 15-30 years. These farms with coffee have a mosaic of flowering species, whose management takes into account their blooming (e.g. pruning guava plant without affecting its blossoms), and they have herbaceas with legumes. That variety of trees and herbacea bloom in a staggered fashion throughout the year, feeding the bees, who in turn pollinate the zone, improving the production of the crops and the biodiversity.

The fourth innovation is the agro-intelligence of Uruguay between 2005 and 2014 (Zamora, 2014[vi]). In this period it went from producing food for 9 million people to producing it for 28 million. Their milk production increased by 54% without deforesting. This agro is due to: 1) policies adapted to family agriculture where the key is crop rotation adapted to climate change; 2) livestock information systems through which ranchers of all sizes had access to the same commercialization channels, and where 12 million head of cattle carry a chip with which a customer in a supermarket “when he wants a cut of beef that he likes, takes out his cell phone, scans the bar code on the label, and the application tells him when the animal was slaughtered, where it was raised, what type of feed it had received, and would even provide a link to see the farm the animal was raised on”; 3) satelite information system to ensure that the producers implement their crop rotation plan to protect the soil and fight erosion; 4) state leadership in working with all the economic groups.

In conclusion, reordering the farm as a building (La Concepción), horizontally (farm and territory) (SJRC and case in México) and on a country level (Uruguay) uncovers an intelligent agriculture for the future. Organizing a learning community with small producers studying their reality, the role of the State and of research institutions would contribute to generating innovation. Because the revolution of agriculture is the basis for the development of any country.

* René (rmvidaurre@gmail.com) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (WPF) (http://peacewinds.org/research/), associate researcher of IOB-Antwerp University (Belgium) and the Nitlapan-UCA Research and Development Institute (Nicaragua). Edgar is a collaborator of WPF.

[i] OECD-2005, Oslo Manual

[ii] Rosa, H., 2008, Perfiles y trayectorias del cambio económico en Centroamérica.

[iii] CEPAL, FAO, IICA, 2013, Perspectivas de la agricultura y desarrollo rural en las Américas.

[iv] Delgado, S., 1961, “El café en la economía nacional” en: Revista Conservadora del Pensamiento Centroamericano 3

[v] Flores, J., Guzman, M., Ricketts, T. y Vandame, R., 2006, “Café y abejas: Conservación y producción” en: Pohaln, J., Soto, L. y Barrera, J. (eds) El Cafetal del Futuro: Realidades y Visiones.

[vi] Zamora, A., 2014, “Uruguay, la revolución agro-inteligente” en: Rebelión.