Paul
7th November 2001, 19:37
Apologies for posting something that is as well known as this, but i feel that now, more than ever, we must remember that battles can be won. The people can overcome.
It will be difficult, the powers that be will try to paint protesters as being no different from the terrorists, but as the US starts to push free trade as a weapon against terror, now more than ever, its important not to give up, and to remember what is possible,
This is taken from NewInt, Sept 2001
In 1999, the World Bank had pressurized the Bolivian Government into privatizing water companies. It refused credit to the public company which ran the water services, recommended ‘no public subsidies’ to cushion against price hikes, and insisted on giving a monopoly to Aguas del Tunari, part of the British company International Water Ltd, in turn owned by the US engineering giant Bechtel.
The new owners, who had been granted a 40-year concession, announced price hikes before they even began operations; in a region where the minimum wage is under $100 per month, people faced increases of $20 per month and more.
Peasants now had to buy permits to collect rainwater from their own wells and roof tanks. Many people could only get water for two hours a day. All autonomous water systems had to be handed over without compensation.
In response thousands joined the moblizations; old and young, seasoned activists and those usually too busy surviving to get politically involved.
Hundreds of young people became known as the ‘water warriors’. At the front of every subsequent march they built barricades to ensure protest was not extinguished. Many of them come from comfortable backgrounds, attend university, have jobs, however precarious. At the barricades, they met people from all walks of life.
Their confrontation with the system has taught them to be wary of power and of blandishments. They resisted offers from political parties which arrived bearing gifts of money; they won the respect of their elders; they faced a military ready to wound and kill; they listened to the political activists who tried to incorporate them in their struggles, the church, the revolutionary parties; they dealt with the undercover intelligence officers who tried to deflect their aim. They listened to all and learnt from them, going along with none.
Oscar Olivera, a factory labourer and the main spokesperson for the protests in Cochabamba, gave thanks publicly to these young women and men, ‘without whom the people of Cochabamba could not have stood up for their rights’
Olivera was a prominent member of the Coordinadora – Coordination for the Defense of Water and Life – a unique coalition of labour activists, rural organizations, the coca growers of nearby Chaparé, politicians, non-governmental organizations, local professionals and young people. Olivera explains:
‘We contacted campesinos, people from the barrios, everyone...
‘The people look at water as something sacred, a right, not something to be sold,’ he says.
The Coodinadora organized the first protest in December 1999, when 20,000 people occupied the central plaza. The Government used teargas against them for the first time in 18 years.
For two months no-one paid their water bills.
Then in February, when negotiations broke down, the Coordinadara called for a symbolic seizure of the central square, the plaza. This time, 30,000 turned up. Police fired on the crowd: 175 people were injured and two youths were blinded.
Olivera says: ‘On 26 March we conducted a consultation in the Cochabamba area served by the water company. Did they want a contract, the law privatizing water, increases in the water bills? Ninety-six per cent said no to all these. Fifty thousand people voted. On 4 April an indefinite roadblock began.’
The protests had come together so quickly that some in Cochabamba thought that ‘the Coordinadora’ was one woman; an old man came every morning to the barricades in the main square, wanting to congratulate her.
On Saturday 8 April 30,000 were in the plaza when martial law was declared.
President Banzer imposed a state of siege and sent in crack military units.
The TV cameras focused on a man on bent knee, rifle pointed, eye in the sights, in civilian clothes. He was army captain Iriarte La Fuente, shooting into the Cochabamba demonstrators. Banderas said: ‘I became aware of sharpshooters pointing at my face, and then I felt the shots near me; there are three bullet holes in the flag I was carrying. More than one person fell. I saw that, I was there.’ Jorge Crespo, a 17-year-old boy, was killed; many more were injured.
‘After the kid died and the others got shot,’ says Olivera, ‘people were incensed. There were more than 80,000 in the streets.’ The official line was that the protesters were drug traffickers. Indignant old ladies blockading the streets said: ‘What, us, drug dealers?’
The company cleared out its desks, its computers, its files, and made a rapid exit from the country. La Coordinadora talked with a government delegation and they agreed that the water contract should be broken. Now that the water is controlled by the people, Olivera says: ‘The water is sweet.’
It will be difficult, the powers that be will try to paint protesters as being no different from the terrorists, but as the US starts to push free trade as a weapon against terror, now more than ever, its important not to give up, and to remember what is possible,
This is taken from NewInt, Sept 2001
In 1999, the World Bank had pressurized the Bolivian Government into privatizing water companies. It refused credit to the public company which ran the water services, recommended ‘no public subsidies’ to cushion against price hikes, and insisted on giving a monopoly to Aguas del Tunari, part of the British company International Water Ltd, in turn owned by the US engineering giant Bechtel.
The new owners, who had been granted a 40-year concession, announced price hikes before they even began operations; in a region where the minimum wage is under $100 per month, people faced increases of $20 per month and more.
Peasants now had to buy permits to collect rainwater from their own wells and roof tanks. Many people could only get water for two hours a day. All autonomous water systems had to be handed over without compensation.
In response thousands joined the moblizations; old and young, seasoned activists and those usually too busy surviving to get politically involved.
Hundreds of young people became known as the ‘water warriors’. At the front of every subsequent march they built barricades to ensure protest was not extinguished. Many of them come from comfortable backgrounds, attend university, have jobs, however precarious. At the barricades, they met people from all walks of life.
Their confrontation with the system has taught them to be wary of power and of blandishments. They resisted offers from political parties which arrived bearing gifts of money; they won the respect of their elders; they faced a military ready to wound and kill; they listened to the political activists who tried to incorporate them in their struggles, the church, the revolutionary parties; they dealt with the undercover intelligence officers who tried to deflect their aim. They listened to all and learnt from them, going along with none.
Oscar Olivera, a factory labourer and the main spokesperson for the protests in Cochabamba, gave thanks publicly to these young women and men, ‘without whom the people of Cochabamba could not have stood up for their rights’
Olivera was a prominent member of the Coordinadora – Coordination for the Defense of Water and Life – a unique coalition of labour activists, rural organizations, the coca growers of nearby Chaparé, politicians, non-governmental organizations, local professionals and young people. Olivera explains:
‘We contacted campesinos, people from the barrios, everyone...
‘The people look at water as something sacred, a right, not something to be sold,’ he says.
The Coodinadora organized the first protest in December 1999, when 20,000 people occupied the central plaza. The Government used teargas against them for the first time in 18 years.
For two months no-one paid their water bills.
Then in February, when negotiations broke down, the Coordinadara called for a symbolic seizure of the central square, the plaza. This time, 30,000 turned up. Police fired on the crowd: 175 people were injured and two youths were blinded.
Olivera says: ‘On 26 March we conducted a consultation in the Cochabamba area served by the water company. Did they want a contract, the law privatizing water, increases in the water bills? Ninety-six per cent said no to all these. Fifty thousand people voted. On 4 April an indefinite roadblock began.’
The protests had come together so quickly that some in Cochabamba thought that ‘the Coordinadora’ was one woman; an old man came every morning to the barricades in the main square, wanting to congratulate her.
On Saturday 8 April 30,000 were in the plaza when martial law was declared.
President Banzer imposed a state of siege and sent in crack military units.
The TV cameras focused on a man on bent knee, rifle pointed, eye in the sights, in civilian clothes. He was army captain Iriarte La Fuente, shooting into the Cochabamba demonstrators. Banderas said: ‘I became aware of sharpshooters pointing at my face, and then I felt the shots near me; there are three bullet holes in the flag I was carrying. More than one person fell. I saw that, I was there.’ Jorge Crespo, a 17-year-old boy, was killed; many more were injured.
‘After the kid died and the others got shot,’ says Olivera, ‘people were incensed. There were more than 80,000 in the streets.’ The official line was that the protesters were drug traffickers. Indignant old ladies blockading the streets said: ‘What, us, drug dealers?’
The company cleared out its desks, its computers, its files, and made a rapid exit from the country. La Coordinadora talked with a government delegation and they agreed that the water contract should be broken. Now that the water is controlled by the people, Olivera says: ‘The water is sweet.’