BRUTALITY AND BRAZIL
The Human Cost of Cheap Steel
By Dave Treece
IN THE MID-1500s the rich silver mines of Potosi, in what is now Bolivia,
were discovered. By the middle of the 17th Century, with the refinement
of the mercury amalgam process, the silver shipped to Spain from Latin
America exceeded three times the total European reserves. It was a lucrative
venture for the Europeans, but deadly for Bolivia's Indians. Within three
centuries Potosi's "mouth of hell" had consumed eight million Indian lives.
Many had been poisoned by mercury or toxic gases in the mines, others
had simply been killed by the barbaric working conditions.
Today, in Brazilian Amazonia, Indians are still being poisoned by mercury
as their lands are plundered for gold. But gold and silver are no longer
the only, nor the biggest threats to the survival of the country's tribal
people. Different minerals, other industries and new technologies have
opened up new possibilities for economic exploitation. Disease, land expropriation
and socio-cultural disintegration are the modern scourges of Brazil's
220,000 Indians, a brave but vulnerable shadow of the five million who
once inhabited the country.
Today's equivalent of Potosi is the Greater Carajas Development Program.
Occupying an area of eastern Amazonia the size of Britain and France combined,
the Carajas Program is turning the region into a massive agro-industrial
park of mines, smelters, dams, railroads, charcoal-burners, ranches and
plantations, and is transforming its people into a destitute, landless
labor pool. The $62 billion scheme is not the monopoly of a single colonial
power, as Potosi was. Many governments, financial institutions and companies
are sharing in the spoils, from the European Economic Community (EEC)
and the World Bank to Japanese and North American banks and state and
private companies within Brazil itself. But like the masters of Potosi
they regard the region's 13,000 Indians as expendable.
As the director of Brazil's national Department of Mineral Production
said: "There is clearly no intention of attacking the Indians; nor of
obliging them to adopt a lifestyle contrary to their nature or which will
expose them to problems which do not affect them today, in the isolation
of their natural habitat. But beside this consideration it must be remembered
that the majority of Indians in this country now wear jeans and listen
to transistor radios, understanding perfectly well what the stations are
broadcasting. It is not asking too much, then, that they should move a
little way off or keep their distance when it is discovered that there
is iron or gold, for example, ready to be extracted from the sub-soil,
in order to make Brazil a more prosperous and just place."
The people who inhabit the Greater Carajas region have always been last
on the list of priorities, rarely informed and never consulted about the
likely impact of the scheme on their lives. The first, abortive plan to
exploit the resources of the region followed the chance discovery of the
world's biggest known deposit of iron--over 18 billion tons--by geologists
working for the Meridional company, a subsidiary of U.S. Steel. The project
was shelved in 1977 after attempts to establish a partnership between
Meridional and the Brazilian state mining company, CVRD, collapsed.
The initiative then passed to the Japanese, and on the basis of a study
by the Japanese Center for International Development (IDCJ) in 1980, the
scheme was resuscitated, but now as the core of a much bigger development
program for the entire region. The 900 km railway and deep-sea port facilities
at Sao Luis on the north coast, which are included in the Iron Ore Project,
would now not only serve the mine itself, but also form an export corridor
for a whole range of industrial raw materials and agricultural commodities.
Combined with the system of tax incentives instituted by the government
in 1980, this has made it more than viable for companies to set up in
the region, producing cattle, timber, palm-oil, metallurgical and other
goods.
The Japanese have maintained interests both in the Iron Ore Project and
in the Greater Carajas Program. In 1981 the Japanese agreed to a total
investment of $500 million in the Iron Ore Project. The first shipments
of ore to Japan were made in 1986, beginning a 15-year contract with seven
steel companies for annual supplies of 10 million tons. In 1985, the Japan
International Cooperation Agency (ICA) published a thousand-page regional
development plan, a minutely detailed set of proposals for the exploitation
of the region's natural resources. As a first step toward implementing
the plan, the Nissho Iwai company applied to JICA in the spring of 1987
for nine billion yen to finance a eucalyptus afforestation project in
conjunction with Florestas Rio Doce, a subsidiary of the CVRD. Meanwhile,
the Nippon Amazon aluminum Company recently converted $44.4 million worth
of the debt owed by Albras, which has a plant near Belem, into shares,
giving it a 49 percent stake in the venture. While Brazil's enormous foreign
debt is certainly a driving force behind the shift of capital into the
region, it is clearly also highly profitable for the companies directly
involved.
The losers, Indians and non-Indians alike, are those whose lands have
been appropriated, legally or illegally, for the various projects. Approximately
20,000 people were evicted from the island of Sao Luis to make way for
the rail terminal and for the aluminum plant set up by the Alumar consortium,
which includes Anglo-Dutch Billiton. Roads, the railway and electrical
transmission lines pass through or close to the lands of 12 of the tribal
communities in the region. Many, such as the Apinaye and Krikati, are
under constant attack from local farmers and are forced to compete for
land and game with the ever-increasing population of peasant squatters
that the transportation network has attracted into the area.
The railway is also the central axis of an initial series of 11 pig-iron
and cement furnaces, which are to be powered by charcoal produced directly
from local timber. Called disastrous even by the CVRD's own environmental
officer, these are among the most disturbing of the recently approved
projects. If the final go ahead is given, it will mean the devastation
of 1.5 million hectares of forest. As well as being environmentally catastrophic,
the furnaces will almost certainly bring about the final destruction of
the Guaja, Brazil's last purely nomadic, hunter-gatherer people, who depend
wholly on the forest for their livelihood. Already, within eight years
of contact with the encroaching white society, the Guaja have suffered
devastating epidemics of infectious diseases, in one case reducing a community
of 120 people to just 30.
Although the major international funders of the Iron Ore Project would
prefer to disassociate themselves from the wider regional development
scheme which their investment has made possible, the Carajas Iron Ore
Project, the export corridor and the Greater Carajas Program are integrally
linked. By separating the schemes, the funders hope to downplay the environmental
and human costs of their investments and lessen international criticism.
Of the total $3.6 billion budget for the Iron Ore Project, over $300
million was supplied by the World Bank, and $600 million came from the
European Coal and Steel Community. In return for the loan, the CVRD signed
a series of contracts guaranteeing the provision of an annual 13.6 million
tons of iron ore to European steel firms, reportedly at "banana" prices.
This increase means Brazil now meets 50 percent of the EEC's iron ore
needs, as compared to 25 percent before the deal. The Vice-President of
the European Commission at the time, Christopher Tudendhat, admitted that
"these contracts contain favorable pricing conditions which will contribute
to preserving the competitiveness of the European steel industry."
Yet, despite the enormous gains to the European steel industry, the EEC
has made no practical commitment to the protection of the tribal people
and the forests jeopardized by the Iron Ore Project. Despite motions and
questions tabled by Euro-MPs who have visited the area, repeated appeals
by the General Assembly of Non-Governmental Organizations for a suspension
of the loan and an independent inquiry, and even the conclusions of a
draft report by the European Parliaments's own Environment Committee,
which regrets the decision to finance the Project, the EEC has refused
to back down. Instead, it has insisted that the assurances of the CVRD
and the World Bank, which oversaw the institution of environmental and
Amerindian protection measures, to the tune of $53 million and $13.6 million
respectively, will adequately take care of the situation.
Although the Brazilian government's record in implementing effective
protective measures elsewhere is poor, the Bank left the allocation of
these funds up to the Brazilian government. The result has been on the
one hand, a degree of ecological window-dressing but no serious attempt
to set aside substantial biological reserves; and, on the other, an Amerindian
Sub- Project designed, not to protect the tribal communities from the
impact of Carajas, but to integrate them into its economic structure,
shattering their social institutions and cultural identities.
Resources have been ploughed into ambitious profit-making agricultural
schemes and into the bureaucracy of the government's corrupt and inept
Indian agency, FUNAI. A derisory 1.8 percent of the budget was assigned
to the crucial issue of land demarcation when the project was designed
in 1982. This was raised to a still paltry 10.5 percent as a result of
external pressure in July 1986, just a year before the project was due
to terminate. Although it has now been extended indefinitely, there is
no evidence to suggest that any progress is being made in guaranteeing
territorial rights to the tribal communities of Carajas . To date, 16
out of the 27 territories in the region still lack the legal protection
necessary to prevent invasions and the destruction of their livelihood.
What is worse, both FUNAI and CVRD, the state mining company responsible
for overseeing the Amerindian Sub-Project and the Iron Ore Project itself,
have repeatedly violated the Indians' land rights. Virtually the whole
of the Catete Reserve, which lies adjacent to the iron ore mine and which
is home to 300 Xikrin Indians, is subject to mining claims by subsidiaries
of CVRD. In the case of the still undemarcated Guaja reserve, the CVRD
actually obstructed the demarcation process in an attempt to guarantee
its access to valuable bauxite deposits. The latest demarcation proposals
excluded those deposits from the territory which would be recognized as
tribal.
(balance of this article omitted here; unscannable)
.
Dave Treece, a consultant to Survival International,
is the author of Bound in Misery and Iron: The Impact of the Greater Carajas
Programme on the Indians of Brazil. The report is available for $5.00
(£250 in the United Kingdom) from Survival International, 310 Edgeware
Road, London W2 1DY, United Kingdom.
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