The Devil´s Curve by Jed Koball
On June 1, 2009, then United States Ambassador to Peru, Michael McKinley, dictated the following cable from his locale in Lima:
“Prolonged and effective protests by Amazon indigenous community groups have caused Congress to reassess the legality of a number of legislative decrees regarding the use of national resources in Peru’s jungle lowlands. Should Congress and President Garcia give in to the pressure, there would be implications for the recently implemented Peru-US Free Trade Agreement… The government’s reluctance to use force to clear roads and blockades is contributing to the impression that the communities have broader support than they actually do…”
The communities referred to by McKinley were those of the Awajun and Wambis indigenous peoples in the northern Amazon of Peru who were demanding the revocation of legislative decrees passed the previous year by the Peruvian Congress. The decrees in question would conform Peruvian law to requirements established in the negotiations of the Peru-US Free Trade Agreement by facilitating access to the Amazon for oil, gas and lumber extraction. In protest the Awajun and Wambis peoples blocked the main highway into the jungle near the town of Bagua at a place called The Devil´s Curve.
Four days later, on June 5, 2009, the Peruvian National Police opened fire on several thousand Awajun and Wambis protesters, including women and children. The resulting confrontation left dead thirty-three Peruvians (police and protestors) and hundreds more wounded. This violent episode is known today in international circles as the Tiananmen of the Amazon. Here in Peru, the people remember it as El Baguazo.
El Perro del Hortelano
While the exploitation of oil and gas in the Amazon has long been of interest to the United States, Peruvian President Alan Garcia hardly needed its encouragement to shed blood in the interest of development. In a speech to the nation intended to explain his government´s position in the face of then-growing protests in Bagua, Garcia referenced an old European fable, El Perro del Hortelano – in English, The Garden Dog.
A common version of the story tells of the owner of a garden who trains a dog to guard its entrance in order to protect it from unscrupulous passers-by. One day the owner dies. So loyal is the dog that despite its master´s death it continues to stand guard at the entrance preventing anyone from ever enjoying the fruits of the garden, while also not consuming the fruits itself.
For Garcia, the metaphorical fruits to be consumed were of course oil and gas. And the perro del hortelano? The Awajun and Wambis peoples of the Amazon.
But my question is, who was the owner? And, why did she die?
In about two weeks, indigenous peoples of the Amazon will mark the tenth anniversary of El Baguazo. Garcia has been out of office for many years now; in fact, in the face of a massive corruption scandal, he committed suicide earlier this year. McKinley is also long gone from Peru, presently serving as US Ambassador to Brazil. So, some will ask, “what has changed in relation to the indigenous peoples of Peru over these past ten years?¨ For those who bear any seeds of indigenous wisdom, they will know that before looking back at changes over the past ten years, first we must look back at what has not changed over the past 500 years.
The Cost of Gold
¨Get gold, humanely if possible, but at all costs get gold.¨ This infamous charge, purported to have been given by King Ferdinand of Spain in 1514, shaped the Spanish conquest of the Americas. Legend says that when Francisco Pizarro, the renowned Conquistador, and his small band of mercenaries arrived on horseback to the Incan city of Cajamarca in 1532, he asked to meet with Atahualpa — the Emperor. Upon greeting one another, Atahualpa was presented with a Bible. Having never seen a book before in his life, Atahualpa looked curiously at the Bible. He felt it. He smelled it. And some say he took a bite out of it! Perhaps tasting the bitterness of how its contents would soon be manipulated to oppress his people, he then spit it out on the ground. Suffice it to say, any formalities between the Spanish and the Incas quickly ended as Atahualpa was then detained and held captive by the Conquistadores.
As you may know, this story does not have a happy ending. The Incas called for the release of their emperor, offering as ransom a room full of gold. Pizarro took the gold but had no intentions of releasing the emperor, and he eventually had him executed. Thus commenced hundreds of years of Spanish occupation of what is today Peru.
Spain had one overarching goal in colonizing the Inca Empire: strengthen its own empire. To do this, it would employ a two-pronged approach. One, it would extract all the natural resources it could in order to generate wealth for the kingdom. And, two, in order to expedite the first strategy it would establish a clear racial hierarchy, subjecting the original peoples of the land to the grueling-and-anything-but humane tasks of getting gold at all costs. To further serve their interests, the colonizers would also import slaves from Africa. In the name of their kingdom, with a Bible in one hand and a sword in the other, the Conquistadores ravaged the Earth and fomented White Supremacy.
While Peru liberated itself from Spain nearly two hundred years ago, it remains captive to a model of development that is premised on getting gold at all costs. The illustrated charts depicting a grotesque racial hierarchy have been moved from the halls of government to the walls of museums, but make no mistake–white privilege and ethnic oppression continue to rule the day in the interest of empire. In the very same region of Cajamarca where Atahualpa had his fateful encounter with Pizarro, there is an ongoing conflict between the Quechua speaking people who live there and a US-based mining company wanting to operate there. The people want to defend their inalienable right to water, which is threatened by mining activity. The mining company wants to defend its state-granted right to extract gold, which comes with a promise of economic growth and modernity.
This is the context of Peru today. From the Andes to the Amazon, from Cajamarca to Bagua and countless places in between and all around, one of the most ecologically and biologically diverse regions of the world is under assault. From the mountaintop glaciers that generate water for the nation, to the lush rainforests that produce oxygen for the world, extractive activity like mining and oil threaten harm, if not outright destruction. Frankly, we are all at risk. And, on the frontlines in the defense of the planet are the indigenous peoples, because for them it is more than just protection of their land and water and the exercise of their human rights. For them it is a spiritual matter. For them the divine is found in the very nature that surrounds them; the nature they know themselves to be intimately connected to, dependent on and part of; the nature they call Mother Earth — the one true owner of the garden, who grants us the fruits of water and air, and who is crucified day in and day out by our globalizing ¨modern way of life¨.
So, what has changed over the past ten years? Regulations have changed that make it easier for companies to access land, contaminate the air, and poison the waters. Criminal and penal codes have changed that make it more dangerous to protest. Trade policies have changed that secure greater rights for foreign investors. And, in some cases the actors have changed – new presidents, new legislators, new CEO´s, new promises.
But in the end, really very little has changed. Today as it was yesterday and as it was thousands of yesterdays ago, the cost of gold remains the same. Be it gold or silver, oil or gas, the price to pay is the destruction of our planet and the oppression of those who live to defend it – in particular, the indigenous peoples, whose wisdom and courage are dismissed in a single breath as the perros del hortelano.
The Faith of Dogs
Alan Garcia was certainly not the first person of privilege to refer to those of a different ethnicity as dogs. In fact, according to Scripture, Jesus did it, too. Matthew 15:21-28 tells the story of the Canaanite woman who stood up to Jesus´ rebuke of her by contending that ¨even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master´s table.¨ This was a turning point for Jesus and his disciples as the Canaanite woman´s faith in the healing power of the God of Israel broadened their understanding of God´s all inclusive love and deepened their practice of communion.
I arrived in Peru not long before El Baguazo, and after ten years here I continue to be struck by indigenous peoples who maintain traditional practices while also professing faith in the Christian God. And, I am sometimes bewildered that they or any indigenous peoples may dare to be in relationship with those of us from the western Church. It is a trust we have not earned. And it makes me consider how my understanding of God might be broadened; how my practice of breaking bread might be deepened. It makes me wonder if I…we…the Church…the world have not reached a turning point.
The Devil´s Curve
On June 5, 2009, as the violence was unfolding in Bagua, US Ambassador McKinley wrote a follow-up cable, offering his analysis of the conflict:
At the root of this crisis are social movement leaders seeking to make political hay by manipulating underlying grievances — mostly entrenched poverty and encroachment on traditional lifestyles by the modern world—to attack laws actually meant to promote economic development while maintaining indigenous peoples’ constitutional rights.
I do not doubt that Mr. McKinley believed what he wrote–that the decrees in question would stimulate growth and protect the very peoples who were standing opposed to them. But, as a fellow white man and US citizen, I also know that he spoke from a place of unchallenged privilege. To dismiss movement leaders as manipulative reeks of arrogance. To justify violence in the name of economic development rings of self-interest. To pretend that the interests of indigenous peoples can be preserved within the framework of western-conceived constitutional rights is simply blind. Until we can see the rights of Mother Earth as equal to the rights of individuals, we will find ourselves at a blockade in the road. May it serve as a warning sign for us all: up ahead lies a hairpin turn in the road. As tempting as what lies beyond may be, at the rate we are going we may very well go over the edge. At the Devil´s Curve we are being called to consider a new way forward.
To learn more about El Baguazo, check out this award-winning documentary on Netflix: When Two Worlds Collide
To learn more about the Mining Conflict in Cajamarca, check out this award-winning documentary on Netflix: Daughter of the Lake
To learn more about the threats to Water from Mining Activity in the Andes, check out this documentary on YouTube, produced with the help of our church partners in Peru: Water Stories
Jed Koball is a Mission Co-Worker of the Presbyterian Church (USA), serving in Peru since 2009 as partnership facilitator for the Presbyterian Hunger Program. Prior to moving to Peru, Jed was a development worker in Nicaragua with Bridges to Community (2003-2006) in between two stays as Associate Pastor of Larchmont Avenue Church (2000-2002; 2006-2008). A graduate of McCormick Theological Seminary and a former Young Adult Volunteer in the Philippines, Jed has long sensed his call to ministry as one of understanding the interconnectedness of the world we share and the pursuit of dismantling the structures that divide us from one another. Jed lives in Lima with his wife Jenny (the coordinator of the Young Adult Volunteer program in Peru), and their son Thiago. Jed is a minister member of Hudson River Presbytery.