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Los Angeles Times publicó extenso reportaje en EE.UU
Mapuches ganan espacio en prensa mundial
Kolectivo
Lientur / 30 de mayo de 2003
Uno
de los principales diarios norteamericanos, Los Angeles Times, cuya
circulación comprende a una masa de más de 15.000.000 de personas, publicó
recientemente un amplio reportaje sobre el conflicto que enfrenta el Pueblo
Mapuche y el Estado chileno, enfocando principalmente un detallado análisis
al conflicto forestal y a la situación política y policial actual en las
regiones VIII, IX y X del sur de Chile.
El reportaje fue elaborado por el corresponsal para Sudamérica de dicho
medio, Héctor Tobar, quien da cuenta de antecedentes históricos de los
conflictos que enfrenta el pueblo mapuche y sus comunidades, entrevistando a
dirigentes territoriales y de organizaciones mapuche autonomistas. Asimismo,
da cuenta de la situación general de los presos políticos recluidos en
distintos penales de la zona sur y comenta los emblemáticos conflictos
territoriales con empresas forestales y la transnacional Endesa-España en la
zona pehuenche del Alto Bio-Bio.
El reportaje consigna además en extenso el asesinato del joven mapuche Alex
Lemún a manos de la policía chilena y se refiere a la actual campaña que se
desarrolla en USA contra el mercado maderero chileno por parte de
organizaciones mapuche y ambientalistas. Como contraparte a la posición
mapuche, el corresponsal también entrevista a Manuel Riesco, Presidente de
la Sociedad de Fomento Fabril (SOFO) y del CAS, uno de los principales
activistas anti-mapuche en representación de los sectores empresariales y
agrícolas afectados por las reivindicaciones territoriales de las
comunidades.
El reportaje se titula "Chilean Indians Battling Outside Foresters" (algo
así como "los indígenas chilenos luchan contra las forestales afuerinas"); Y
para sorpresa de muchos, apareció públicado en la portada del importante
matutino norteamericano, destacando el siguiente titular: "WHERE FORESTS ARE
FOES" (Tree farming in Chile has displaced thousands of indigenous Mapuche
Indians But it's also fueled a rebirth of activism and pride). "DONDE LAS
FORESTALES SON ENEMIGOS" (la plantación de árboles en Chile ha desplazado a
miles de indígenas mapuches, pero también ha fomentado un renacimiento de su
activismo y de su orgullo).
El periodista, que visitó Chile y el territorio mapuche en el transcurso de
febrero pasado, tomó contacto a través de entrevistas personales con
diversos representantes de organizaciones mapuche en Temuco, tales como la
Agrupación de Profesionales Mapuche Konapewman. Asimismo, se contactó con
fuentes académicas en el tema indígena como el Instituto de Estudios
Indígenas dependiente de la Universidad de la Frontera y representantes del
sector empresarial chileno (SOFO).
Del mismo modo, visitó zonas de conflicto entrevistando a dirigentes
territoriales de Traiguén, Collipulli y Ercilla, entre ellos dirigentes de
la Asociación Ñancucheo de Lumaco. También, visitó la Cárcel El Manzano de
Concepción, entrevistando al reconocido dirigente mapuche de Collipulli,
Víctor Ancalaf, procesado por violación a la Ley Antiterrorista por su
presunta responsabilidad en atentados incendiarios ocurridos en la zona del
Alto Bio-Bio y contra maquinarias de la transnacional Endesa-España.
El reportaje, tanto por su extensión, su excelente base documental y
destacada cobertura otorgada en otros medios internacionales que lo han
reproducido por la red en diversos idiomas, es una importante señal de que
el conflicto y discriminación que enfrenta el pueblo mapuche y sus
comunidades al interior del Estado chileno está generando amplios espacios
de análisis a nivel internacional y cada vez son más los medios dispuestos a
ofrecer sus tribunas para denunciar esta realidad frente a la comunidad
internacional.
"Our objective is the recuperation of the territory of the Mapuche people",
Víctor Ancalaf.
Where Forests Are Foes
Tree farming in Chile has displaced thousands of indigenous Mapuche Indians.
But it has also fueled a rebirth of activism and pride.
By Héctor Tobar LA Times Staff Writer 2003
COLLIPULLI, Chile-- Growing like cabbages in neat rows planted by one of the
largest forestry companies in South America, the trees suck the water out of
the ground, killing off streams and making wells run dry in this corner of
Chile. For Ancalaf and other Mapuche Indian leaders, that is one indignity
toomany.
So every now and then, the Mapuche set ablaze the trees and the trucks of
companies that plant them. Ancalaf is charged with burning five vehicles as
part of a smoldering, low-tech war that also is being fought with
slingshots, chain saws and homemade shotguns. Just as often, however, the
Mapuche fight back with peaceful means. Medicine women called machis pray
for the spirits of the water and the earth to stand fast against the "exotic
species" transplanted from North America and Australia.
On the Internet, activists spread word of their struggles, making allies in
Sweden, France and other countries where leftists have ties to Latin
American compatriots.
"We've entered into a period of darkness of water, and this is bringing us
to the brink of extinction," said Rayen Kuyeh, a Mapuche poet and
playwright. "If wanting to defend the spirits of the water, the trees, the
birds, the earth and the air makes me a terrorist, then go ahead and call me
a terrorist."
The environmental impact of commercial tree farming in Chile has helped feed
a renaissance of activism and cultural pride among the nation's 1 million
Mapuche, the original inhabitants of what is now south-central Chile and
parts of Argentina. The Mapuche held off
European incursions onto their land for centuries, signing a 1641 treaty
with the Spanish crown that was later thrown out by an independent Chile,
before the tribe was finally vanquished in the late 19th century.
Relegated to reservations - called "reductions" here - most Mapuche now work
as impoverished farmers or field hands or live as a marginalized minority in
Chilean cities. "Our objective is the recuperation of the territory of the
Mapuche people," Ancalaf, 40, said in a jailhouse interview. "We want to
control our destiny and shape our future according to the cosmology of our
people."
[In a manner presciently reminiscent of what the US is becoming:] Held
without trial since November under anti-terrorism laws passed during the
dictatorship of Gen. Augusto Pinochet, Ancalaf and a dozen other militant
leaders have become heroes to many Mapuche, even those who disagree with
their tactics.
"The Chilean state is criminalizing the struggle of the Mapuche," said
Alfredo Seguel, a former government worker and a member now of Konapewman
Mapuche, a group of university-trained professionals who have forgone
big-city life to return to their ethnic roots. "The movement to recuperate
our territory isn't just political," he added. "It's also a social, cultural
and religious struggle."
In the last few years, the Mapuche have won mayoral and city council
elections for the first time. In the city of Temuco, Mapuche university
students have taken over abandoned properties and established communal
homes. Activists have opened a Mapuche pharmacy in Temuco to dispense
traditional herbal medicines that are disappearing in the wild in part
because of the effects of tree farms, which now cover millions of acres of
the Mapuche's ancestral land.
Impoverished indigenous farmers have formed tribal councils to draft town
constitutions and lobby local governments for the return of communal land.
In all, there are as many as 100 local and regional Mapuche organizations in
this region of Chile.
"We are seeing a revitalization of all aspects of Mapuche culture, even of
the Mapuche language, which was beginning to die out," said Alejandro
Herrera, a professor at the University of the Frontier in Temuco. "Until
recently, Mapuche parents wouldn't let their children speak Mapudungun
because having a Mapuche accent when you spoke Spanish was a sign of
backwardness," Herrera added. "Now, we see groups of young people forming
study circles to learn the language."
Pablo Huaiquilao is from a Mapuche family that left its impoverished rural
village two generations ago. In college, he met other students who were
starting to embrace their tribal identity. "I wanted to know who I was,
where I came from," he said. So he sat down and talked with his grandmother.
She spun a familial epic of land takeovers, massacres and the time Swiss
colonists - sent by the Chilean government as homesteaders - set fire to the
village's wheat harvest. "It was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle," he
said.
In the Chilean media, the modern "Mapuche conflict" is most often portrayed
as a struggle between the order and reason of the country's European
heritage and an indigenous culture dominated by "superstition" and violence.
"Christian Group Attacks Machis," read a recent headline in the Temuco daily
newspaper El Diario Austral, which detailed one religious leader's attempt
to wean his followers away from indigenous remedies and healers. The
Christian distributed fliers that read: "Brother, if you don't want to be in
bad standing with the true God, reject these customs that the Mapuche
culture offers you."
Farmers See Threat
For Manuel Riesco, a sugar beet farmer and president of a growers
organization in Temuco, the indigenous movement is a threat to farmers, some
of whom have had their homes burned down and their lives threatened because
of property disputes with neighboring Mapuche. "This is not going to be the
next Chiapas," he said, referring to the southern Mexican state where
indigenous rebels have battled government troops. "We're talking about 200
hotheads, and those hotheads have 20 leaders who are now in jail."
Many farmers here are descendants of Swiss, German and Italian immigrants
who settled in the region in the early 20th century. In the years since,
descendants of the settlers have acquired more land thanks to a series of
decrees and laws that have eaten away at indigenous communal holdings. Only
in recent years have the Mapuche started to fight back. "This is becoming
like the Wild West," Riesco said.
Smoldering for decades, the conflict over land began to catch fire again in
the late 1990s. Like others here, Riesco says the globalization of the
Chilean economy and the government's free-trade policies were the cause.
The grain and dairy farms that were once the cornerstone of the regional
economy have been hard hit by cheaper American exports. A farmer who once
employed dozens of Mapuche as laborers can find himself forced to leave land
fallow or sell out to the forestry companies.
Thousands of former laborers have been thrown out of work and forced to
migrate to the cities. Two-thirds of the Mapuche in Chile now live in
Santiago, the capital and largest city.
As
the Mapuche are forced to leave the countryside, trees seem to take their
place - clusters of eucalyptus and pine planted in old wheat fields or where
native forests stood. Harvested by machine, the pine and eucalyptus trees
are processed into lumber and paper pulp for North American and Asian
markets. The companies that own those trees are constant targets of protest,
including the Santiago-based Mininco, which owns many of the trees around
Collipulli.
In November, Mapuche activist Edmundo Lemun, 17, was shot and killed by
police during a protest at tree farms in Ercilla. On Jan. 20, more than a
dozen hooded Mapuche with homemade shotguns and Molotov cocktails invaded a
Mininco workers' camp outside the town, setting fire to the living quarters.
In confrontations with police and forestry company guards, youths cover
their faces with hoods and scarves and sometimes hurl rocks with slingshots,
a traditional weapon used in battles past. "We're not in conflict with
anyone," said Francisco Urzelain, a spokesman for Mininco. The controversy
is ancient history, he said, as relevant to modern Chile as American Indian
claims to Massachusetts.
Corporate Stance
"The Mapuche were here before the Spanish came. We bought this land 20 years
ago. No one has presented any evidence in court to say we bought the land
illegally," Urzelain added before declining further comment. Mininco and
other companies also have become the target of a public relations campaign
led by European and American activists, including the San Francisco-based
group ForestEthics.
Most of the trees planted in the region are Monterey pine - a species native
to California - and eucalyptus from Australia, says Aaron Sanger of
ForestEthics. The density of the planting causes ground water to disappear,
he says. Often,the trees grow so close together that wildlife can't walk
between them. "Those trees are like an army marching across Chile, consuming
Mapuche culture," Sanger said.
Native trees such as the canelo and the luma, both integral to Mapuche
religious practices, are being driven toward extinction. According to one
Chilean government study, all native trees outside national parks could
disappear by 2015.
Violent resistance to the tree farms first exploded in 1997, when Mapuche
residents set fire to logging trucks outside the town of Lumaco, whose name
means "waters of the luma tree." Herrera, the University of the Frontier
professor, said the incident came after years during which the Mapuche tried
unsuccessfully to lobby local government.
"They exhausted all the procedures of the democratic system," Herrera said.
"A week before they set fire to the trucks, they traveled to Temuco in a
last effort to meet with the governor. But he wouldn't even let them in the
door."
Six years later, Lumaco's Mapuche residents are still seething. Last year, a
group of men wearing ski masks and hoods used axes and chain saws to level
eucalyptus trees at the nearby Alaska Tree Farm.
Today, several leaders from the Lumaco area are behind bars, charged with
destroying forest company property. As elsewhere, water shortages contribute
to the conflict. "Twenty years ago, I don't think anyone in our community
imagined that one day we would have to bring in water trucks to provide for
the basic needs of our families," said Alfonso Rayman, a leader of the
Nagche Mapuche, a subgroup that includes several communities around Lumaco.
In an attempt to soothe such passions, the local government has provided
town residents with cisterns to store water. But such programs, Rayman says,
don't address the root cause of the problem. The village sits in a narrow
valley surrounded by thick green clusters of trees, each a company farm. For
the Mapuche to feel free, Rayman says, those trees must disappear.
"The Chilean government understands the indigenous problem as a problem of
poverty," he said. "But what drives us is the return of our land and the end
of this invasion." A few days earlier, in a small act of defiance, a group
of boys had set a fire in a hillside meadow near the town, Rayman said with
a slight smile. The blaze ran up the hillside and killed hundreds of
saplings.
In the face of such resistance, the national government is trying a
carrot-and-stick approach. It works to improve schools and other services in
the region while adopting a get-tough attitude toward the most militant
leaders.
"We've worked very hard with the forestry companies and the indigenous
communities" to resolve the conflicts, said Ramiro Pizarro, governor of
Chile's 9th Region, which includes Temuco, Ercilla and Collipulli. "And
there are people who want to destroy that work."
For those militants, Chile is using its anti-terrorism laws, which
deprivedetainees of the right to a speedy trial and allow prosecutors to
withhold evidence from defense attorneys.
Ancalaf, the Mapuche organizer from Collipulli, remains defiant. "We call on
all the Mapuche communities to begin a process of recuperating their
territory," he said. "Whether they decide to do it with violence or without
is a decision of each community."
Still, he makes clear that he believes fire is an especially effective tool
in advancing the cause. "If it hadn't been for that, the government wouldn't
even be listening to the problems of the Mapuche people," he said.
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