Short Wave - A Rising Tide of Violence Against Environmental Activists

Episode Date: April 14, 2021

(Encore episode.) Global Witness documented that 212 environmental and land activists were murdered in 2019. Over half of those documented murders took place in Colombia and the Philippines, countries where intensive mining and agribusiness has transformed the environment. NPR Short Wave reporter Emily Kwong speaks with three activists about the intersection between natural resource extraction and violence, and what keeps them going in their work.See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

You're listening to Shortwave from NPR. Maddie, I want to start today's episode with a speech. From Francia Marquez, an Afro-Columbian environmental activist. In 2018, she won the Goldman Environmental Prize for Central and South America. And that's the biggest prize kind of out there for grassroots environmental activists. Yeah, it's sometimes called the Green Nobels. Talking about her community in Colombia, Latoma, Francia, pauses to collect herself. This is a place where illegal gold mining was booming a few years ago,

where miners were coming in and polluting local water sources with harmful chemicals. And in response, Francia organized 80 women to march in protest to Bogota, the capital, a journey of 350 miles. I mean, that's a far, 350 miles that's far. Francia is someone who has tirelessly fought illegal mining on her ancestral land, but at great personal cost. She says, we are taught to love and value our land

and to fight for it. Even if it means putting our own lives at risk. even if it means putting our own lives at risk. That's the sentence I want to pay attention to because the lives of environmental and land activists are increasingly at risk. An international NGO, Global Witness, has documented a rise in the murder and disappearance

of environmental and land activists in recent years. They documented 212 murders in 2019. And one third of those murders were in Colombia, where Francia lives. And has Francia herself faced death threats for her activism? Death threats, harassment, and that's what we're going to talk about today. This intersection between natural resource extraction and human rights abuse in some countries and what it's like to protect the environment when the government does little or nothing to protect you.

Today on the show, we speak to ego activists in two countries, Colombia and the Philippines, facing the most extreme. pressure imaginable while working to protect their land. This is Shortwave, the Daily Science podcast from NPR. So, Emily, why did you want to focus this story on Colombia and the Philippines? So remember that report I mentioned earlier? Yeah, the one from Global Witness. Yeah, so they're an NGO tracking threats against grassroots environmental activists. Subsistence farmers, opposing mining, tribal leaders, condemning logging, journalists, lawyers, organizers. The UN calls these folks environmental defenders. And most of the murders that Global Witness documented took place in just two countries,

Colombia and the Philippines. And in Colombia, indigenous communities are especially targeted, including the YU. This is Angelica Ortiz, a member of the YU in northern Colombia in La Guajira. we spoke over a secure video chat. She told me, we raise our voice in defense of the territory, and that the land is so much more than territory. It's wall mineca, or Mother Earth,

where the Yiu pass on their culture to the next generation. Angelica remembers being a little girl when mining operations appeared, desiccating the only stream the community had, turning it into a bed of rocks. Her community not only lost a source of water, but a community meeting place, where women would gather and do laundry and talk. And she became an activist because she doesn't want other communities to go through what she did.

Okay, so tell me a little bit about the activist work that Angelica does in Colombia. So she is the Secretary General of Fuerza de Mouyev, Mouheres Yiu, mounting protests against mega mining projects in La Guajira, particularly this project called El Serejon. And what's El Serajohn? That is the largest coal mine in Latin America, and it's right in her backyard. This is a legal operation owned by multinationals, digging up coal that's exported to other countries. But the practice of open pit mining, Maddie, has proven really disruptive to the people who live there and harmful for the environment. Right. I know open pit mining can mess up local water resources.

Absolutely. And can create pollution that is physically harmful to communities that live nearby. El Serra Hon overall is really polarizing. Its construction has provided jobs and wealth to some in Colombia for decades. But it's also displaced indigenous and Afro-Columbian communities, forcing them from their lands without real resettlement. Consequently, they are exposed to violence. largely at the hands of paramilitary groups and criminal organizations, groups that harass and target defenders like Angelica, who speak out against human rights abuses and environmental issues, like those caused by the mine.

And this is on top of the violence Colombians have already faced. Right. I mean, I know that Colombia is kind of coming out of decades of conflict. A conflict, some say, isn't over because of armed groups still active in the region. And how does the government there respond to these attacks? Yeah, that's a good question. I mean, they often dismiss them as localized crimes, and perpetrators are rarely convicted. So what kind of impact has this had on Helika's life? It's been monumentally stressful.

The threats against her began in 2011 with pamphlets appearing at her house and phone calls from people she didn't know. These threats were first directed against her. But when she didn't stop her anti-mining activism, Angelica says they went after her family. She scaled back her social life, not wanting to put anyone else in harm's way, and now chooses to live apart from her kids. Wow, that's awful. And her children know that when mom goes out, she may not return. She says they call, they write, they ask, where are you?

Are you back yet? Are you delayed? Yeah, she's saying it's really, really stressful for her family. Yeah, I also get the sense that the stress is something she and her family have learned to accept. The government doesn't have the political will to protect environmental activists like her. And the pollution remains. So Angelica, for her part, has no plans to stop. Good day. I'm J.B. Garganera.

Nor does another environmental activist I spoke to, J.B. Garganera, on the other side of the world. I'm the national coordinator of Alianza T. Gilmina. J.B. coordinates a national campaign to challenge mining in his country, the Philippines, mining that poses a threat to land, water, and the health and safety of local. communities. And compared to Columbia, mining has a small physical footprint in the Philippines, covering just 3% of the land. Unfortunately, these 3% are the remaining forests. And when J.B. and his team mapped out where resource extraction was happening and where

violence against environmental defenders was happening, they saw overlap. And he concluded that when people who depend on land are displaced by industry, it can be a job. of conflict. Similar to the situation in Colombia. Right. Though in the Philippines, this violence can be tied more directly to the government itself, specifically President Rodrigo Duterte. Elected in 2016, Duterte and his regime have been brutal. His law and order mandate in the Philippines has given way to human rights abuses, a culture where those who go against the government are vilified. And that includes environmental activists. But why is the Duterte government targeting environmental activists in particular? Because the government is pro-mining. So activists I spoke to

essentially said that if you oppose mining, you're seen as opposing the government itself. And that idea has been codified in a really alarming way recently through the Philippines' new anti-terrorism act, which broadens the definition of what terrorism is. When you go up against powerful interests like big business and government projects, you start facing various risks to your lives. This is Leon Dulce, the national coordinator for Kali Kasaan People's Network for the Environment. And he's really worried about the potential for this new law, which was signed during the pandemic, to designate environmental activism as terrorism, where giving a speech or organizing a rally is criminalized. It begins with death threats, it begins with harassment.

And then it worsens over time as you get vilified in the media by government authorities as you get red tag. You get terror tag. And then the killing start. So red tagging or terror tagging means you're labeled a communist sympathizer or anti-government in some way. And rural communities get caught in the crosshairs of this political situation. The violence is largely perpetrated by the military and the police in the Philippines. Yeah, I mean, to put it lightly, this whole situation sounds extremely tense. And it couldn't be happening in a more vulnerable place, right?

A place being heavily impacted by climate change. The Philippines is at risk for multiple climate hazards. Extreme rain and typhoons means more flooding and mudslides. Warmer oceans can mean less fish. Yeah, Leon would absolutely agree with you there. So what we do is actually pivotal to the global environmental movement and yet we are the deadliest country in Asia for environmental defenders because of that. At times it becomes desensitizing. You know, every day you get reports of illegal arrests,

killings, the bombings of indigenous peoples, villages. And then every now and then you see incidents of involving people you personally know. So you really don't get used to the grief. And Emily, how is the people? pandemic affected this situation in both countries? Because I know Colombia and the Philippines both saw lockdowns. So is it more dangerous to be an environmental defender there now or less so with people stuck at home? What's the situation? Global witness doesn't have enough data to answer that question right now, but a representative did tell me the pandemic certainly hasn't slowed down these incidents. If anything, limited movement has made environmental activists work even more

dangerous. But the pandemic has also galvanized people around human rights issues. There were even protests in the Philippines throughout the summer against the anti-terrorism law. And that has given Leon a bit of hope. It started with a few hundreds and then thousands that slowly pushed back to reclaim the streets in protests against the anti-terror law. And you see that your cause is correct. You see that your cause is just, and that's where we find strength. As for J.B., he finds strength in a promise he made years ago. Every night when his eldest son was little, J.B. would read him this Filipino children's book called The Last Tree. And we read that story every night for several years, of course, with other books as well.

But that was the favorite book of my first son. About a group of kids who saved the last tree. from being chopped down on earth. At the end, the tree is lit up by fireflies, and one night his son asked him. By the way, Dad, what is a firefly? And it dawned on me. My God, we've been reading this book for more than two years.

My son hasn't seen a firefly. And I made it my personal promise that night. I will not let you grow without seeing and experiencing a firefly in a tree. And that has been my milestone, my reference point. I want the next generation to know what a firefly is. And in committing to this work, J.B. and his colleagues have found ways to keep safe. In the last decade, they've implemented safety protocols, gained credibility for their work with the media and church leaders, galvanizing a network of support, and working with international human rights groups, too, to defend the defenders.

Special thanks to Francisco Eduardo at Global Witness for translations. Today's episode was produced by Britt Hansen, edited by Viet Le and fact-checked by Ariel Elizabeth. I'm Maddie Safia. I'm Emily Kwong, and thanks for listening to Shortwave from NPR.