Brazil


The Odebrecht Tsunami: can we restore the public trust, or just the money?

(Column originally published in El País) Corruption in Latin American and the Caribbean is no longer news. Some even consider it normal. But this too has a limit. So when we learned of the extent of corruption involved with Brazilian multinational Odebrecht, the news hit like a tsunami: the corporation not only swept away huge piles of money, it also destroyed the public trust. Now we must question whether the more than 100 infrastructure projects involved in the Odebrecht case were really in the public interest, or if they were merely an excuse to pay millions in bribes. The details of this complex and corrupt machinery came to light on December 21. That day the Department of Justice and the US Attorney’s Office published a document in which corporate executives confessed to having paid roughly $788 million in bribes to officials in 11 Latin American countries and Mozambique. According to the document, “between 2001 and 2016, Odebrecht, together with its co-conspirators, knowingly and willfully conspired and agreed with others to corruptly provide hundreds of millions of dollars… for the benefit of foreign officials, foreign political parties, foreign political party officials, and foreign political candidates… in order to obtain and retain business…” It is a confession of actions that completely betray the public trust. The executives implicated dozens of governments, including heads of state (such as Colombian President and Nobel Prize-winner Juan Manuel Santos), ministers, senators, and others who are now being investigated or have been jailed. Indignation is rampant, as are demands for justice. Although it wasn’t possible to access the complete list of projects, public information in each country accounts for the following: Argentina: gas pipelines, water purification projects, potassium extraction, and the burial of the Sarmiento railway, among others. Brazil: hundreds of projects, including extractive industries and the Belo Monte Dam, which since its planning stages has been violating human rights. Colombia: the Ruta del Sol and the navigation of the Magdalena River, the two most important engineering projects in the country. Ecuador: the Manduriacu dam and the Pacific refinery. Although the administration of Rafael Correa has stated that possible bribes occurred before 2007, the US government claims to have evidence of later bribes. Mexico: the Ethylene XXI petrochemical project (the largest in Latin America) and the Los Ramones II Norte gas pipeline. Peru: the North-South Interoceanic Highway, the Alto Piura hydroelectric project, and the Lima electric train. Dominican Republic: the Punta Catalina thermoelectric plant and the Pinalito hydroelectric plant. In all countries, the bribes involve energy or infrastructure projects that were declared essential for development by governments, international agencies, and corporations.  Yet communities and organizations have for decades denounced these same projects for abridging human rights, harming the environment, and aggravating climate change. The majority of their complaints about these projects were ignored. The Belo Monte Dam, for example, began operations despite the fact that the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights requested a halt to its construction and government protection of the rights of affected indigenous communities. Requests for justice were also repressed, sometimes by the very governments that, according to the evidence, were reportedly given bribes to implement the projects. The situation is all the more serious if we consider that Latin America is the most dangerous region in the world for human rights defenders, particularly those who protect the environment and their territory. Faced with unprecedented corruption, it is vital to analyze each of the projects from the Odebrecht case to determine its true public utility. It’s likely that, in many cases, the socio-environmental costs far outweigh the benefits. In such cases, damages must be penalized. The Odebrecht case may be just the tip of the iceberg in a broader regional problem. Each State and corporation on the continent must adopt effective anti-corruption measures and re-evaluate their project planning and implementation processes. One clear lesson from this scandal is that the region needs to strengthen the independent, objective fulfillment of national and international standards for the protection of the environment and human rights. In the case of mega-projects, transparency and the participation of those affected (and those interested in protecting the public interest) must be ensured. Given that, in some cases, the investigation of corruption rests with the administrations implicated in the scandal, independent regional citizen’s oversight should be established to investigate the impacts of the mega-projects, and the best ways to compensate for damages. We must ensure, once and for all, that decision-makers are truly serving the public interest, and not their own pocketbooks. All of us citizens must contribute to making this a reality.  One thing you can do to help is support AIDA – the only regional organization of Latin American experts providing free legal support to secure the wellbeing of people, places, and the planet.

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Meeting the Munduruku, sharing the lessons of Belo Monte

Beneath a thatched-roof hut along the Tapajós River, Munduruku people from communities across this region of pristine Amazon rainforest gathered for a general assembly. There were tribal elders and children, mothers and fathers, representatives from NGOs and government bodies. They came together to discuss problems, and to find solutions. They came to chart a course forward that would enable them to continue to live and grow in harmony with the natural world. October’s assembly was their first meeting since the announcement of the cancellation of the Tapajós Dam; its license was denied due to the severe environmental impacts it would cause. The rejection was a triumphant victory for the movement to protect Brazil’s Amazon, after years of disappointment and defeat caused by the nearby Belo Monte Dam. Yet, touting energy and economic gains, the Brazilian government plans to build dozens more large dams in the region.  I was there because of Belo Monte: to share stories, strategies, and lessons learned from our advocacy for the people of the Xingú River who have been impacted by the dam. With me I brought a team from Climate Reality who produced a short documentary to share these stories with the world.  While the fight for the people of the Xingú has been long, we remain committed to achieving justice for them. By taking their case before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, we intend to influence decision-making in Brazil and discourage the implementation of more large dams in the Amazon, including those planned for the Tapajós River basin. The devastation caused by Belo Monte has become a cautionary tale for neighboring tribes like the Munduruku. Because of the harm done to the people and life of the Xingú, the Munduruku understand exactly what they have to lose if the dam on the Tapajós were to happen. They would lose their homes, their sacred sites, and their connection to their ancestors. They would lose their river. Like the Xingú is to the Kayapo and Juruna people, the Tapajós is to the Munduruku. It is their highway and their supermarket; a sacred waterway, and a divine gift. They thank their gods for the bounty provided by their healthy jungle home, for the tinguejada (fish), and for all that the river gives them. It was an honor to be present to witness the strength and unity of the Munduruku people. It was humbling to join my voice with theirs. I hope that the voices of the Munduruku are heard. I hope their territory is respected, and the dam and other development projects stopped for good. And I hope the Brazilian government learns the lesson that countless indigenous people already have—large dams must stay out of the Amazon!

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Large Dams, Indigenous Rights

In the Hamlet of Mïratu, the Juruna mourn the death of Jarliel

By Marcelo Salazar, Instituto Socioambiental (ISA) AIDA translation of a blog originally published by ISA Jarliel died while diving for fish in water 25 meters deep. One of his brothers blames the Belo Monte Dam, which pushed all the fish into deeper waters, forcing fishermen to follow. Before the dam, fish were plentiful in the waterfalls and shallows of the river. Jarliel Juruna, known as Jarla, died on October 26, 2016 while diving for brown acari, a common Amazonian catfish. He was 20 years old. Jarliel was roughly 25 meters deep when he stopped breathing; his lifeless body floated to the surface. It was a tragedy for Mïratu, in the Paquiçamba indigenous territory; it was a tragedy for the Juruna people* of the Volta Grande; and it was a tragedy for the Xingu River, in the Brazilian Amazon. He left his parents, siblings, wife, and newborn son, all in shock. They had no idea where to go or what to do next. In near total silence, Giliarde Juruna, chief of Mïratu and one of Jarliel’s brothers, kept his gaze fixed on the forest behind the straw house that holds the community kitchen. Another brother, Jair Juruna, known as Negão, was outraged:  "We’ve never had to fish acari in such deep waters. But because of the dam, the fish that have always been right here, in the waterfalls and in the shallows, have disappeared. And we have families to support. Norte Energía [the dam-building consortium] is playing with our lives. Where are the productive projects? If things were working, we would have other jobs and we wouldn’t need to risk our lives to support our families. Now look what’s happened." On the other side of the continent, Bel Juruna was in Peru representing her people in a meeting of Latin American indigenous leaders. She was speaking about the violence that the Belo Monte operators brought to her community and the people of the Xingu. When she heard the news, she was devastated. She wasn’t able get home in time to attend Jarliel’s burial; to say goodbye to her youngest brother, whom she had helped to raise. Jarla was a happy and playful young man, dedicated, completing his high school degree and dreaming of college. He was one of his village’s fighters, present in many of the peaceful occupations of the Belo Monte Dam complex, fighting for the rights of the indigenous people of the Xingu. One day, the full story behind Belo Monte will be told. The very real impacts the dam has had on the life of the people of the Xingu will be recognized. May Jarla now join the great Mïratu fighters on another plane—and unite his efforts with those who remain on Earth to fight against Belo Monte and against other forms of destruction of the indigenous and traditional communities of the Xingu. *Proprietors of the River The Yudja, or Juruna (as they’re know in the region), live on the islands and banks of the Xingu. They are known as “proprietors of the river” for their great ancestral knowledge of its flow, and for having migrated for centuries from the mouth of the Xingu to its headwaters. Mïratu, one of the villages in Paquiçamba indigenous territory, sits roughly 10 km below one of Belo Monte’s reservoirs. The hamlet suffers various impacts from the dam, including changes in their traditional fisheries. In collaboration with (the?) Universidad Federal do Pará and ISA, and with the support of the Mott Foundation, the Juruna people are engaged in independent monitoring of their fisheries, which reveals the damages suffered in recent years. Jariel was one of the monitors in Mïratu. 

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Belo Monte: Fueling Our Fight for Justice

By María José Veramendi Villa Even as the turbines of the Belo Monte Dam have begun turning, the fight for justice continues. The ongoing operation of the world’s third largest dam—corrupt and careless as it is—cannot stop us. In fact, each new allegation of corruption and abuse only fuels our desire for justice for those who have been affected by the dam. And our most important battle is now strongly underway: our case before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, which opened for processing at the close of last year.  In it, we’re working to hold Brazil accountable for the countless human rights violations that have been committed in the name of the Belo Monte dam: the absence of consultation with and free, prior and informed consent of indigenous communities; the lack of adequate assessment of environmental and social impacts; forced displacement; and severe violations to the rights of indigenous peoples, riverine communities and residents of Altamira. We’re in the process of getting the case admitted before the Commission, so they can establish—as an independent, international body—if these violations occurred and whether the State must respond for them. As part of the process, Brazil had to respond to our allegations before the Commission. We received their response on August 9 and have just submitted our legal submission to counter their claims.  We need to ensure Commission understands the importance of their role in investigating the human rights abuses that have been suffered due to Belo Monte. Even as I write this, the State and dam operators continue to blatantly disregard the human rights of the people of the Xingu River basin, living in the dam’s shadow. On September 1, for instance, the dam’s operating license was suspended yet again because sanitation systems in the city of Altamira—a legal obligation operators were required to meet long ago—were never installed. Wastewater still floods the streets of Altamira, and threatens to turn Belo Monte’s reservoir into a stagnant pool of sewage. Unfortunately, as with many legal decisions attempting to protect the rights of those affected, the suspension was overturned a few weeks later. It’s clear the forces behind Belo Monte have no respect for the environment in which they’re working, and even less for the local people who depend upon the river and forests for their survival. Many of the people we represent live in the neighborhoods of Altamira, and are exposed to raw sewage. Those who live outside the city have been displaced from their land, cut off from their primary water source, or have had their way of life destroyed.  We must ensure the Brazilian State is held accountable for the immense environmental and social damage the dam has caused. Rest assured, we won’t stop until we achieve justice for the people of the Xingú.

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The Olympics and the Record We Mustn't Break

By Florencia Ortúzar Greene, AIDA attorney The 2016 Río Olympics have come to an end. Over the last few weeks, the world has once again borne witness to the greatest achievements of the human body, to the forging of new world records. But, amid high levels of air and water pollution, the thousands of competitors that met in Brazil affirmed that one record must not be broken: 1.5 degrees Celsius. The Earth has been warming steadily in recent years, causing the melting of permafrost, rising oceans, increasingly dangerous storms and floods, and more intense and frequent droughts. Exceeding a global temperature increase of 1.5 °C would trigger a global catastrophe with unknown consequences. The opening message The Olympics put the issue of climate change on the table once again. Athletes from around the world called on us all to do something about it. During the opening ceremony on August 5, images of clouds of pollution filled Maracaná Stadium in Río de Janeiro. Alarming projections showed cities and regions of the world being flooded. The peace symbol, altered to resemble a tree, was projected on the ground while a voice warned that our planet’s ice caps are melting quickly. Athletes from around the world joined in a campaign to ask the world not to break the record of 1.5 degrees, implying that the union of all nations is necessary to control global warming. Each Olympian received a tree seed, which will grow into the Athlete’s Forest, cementing their legacy in Río’s Deodoro Olympic Park. Bad air and water quality In a report on water quality in Río, the World Health Organization (WHO) made recommendations to athletes competing in aquatic events. The organization told them to cover cuts and scrapes with waterproof bandages; to avoid ingesting the water; to wash as soon as possible after exposure; to stay in it as briefly as possible; and to avoid contact with all water after it rains. Clearly, water in Río carries significant health risks. Air pollution in Río has also reached dangerous levels, authorities have warned. Promises to improve air quality before the big event were not fulfilled. According to government data, since 2008 the city’s air has contained airborne particles that cause respiratory illnesses at a concentration three times higher than annual WHO-recommended limits. Another key to the planet’s health is the Amazon rainforest, of which Brazil is the principle guardian. The Amazon stores huge amounts of carbon, taking up some of what we release into the atmosphere. But this natural treasure is at risk. According to the World Wildlife Fund, over the last several years the Amazon has lost at least 17 percent of its vegetation, and deforestation has released large amounts of carbon into the atmosphere. The protection of this treasure is a responsibility humanity is failing to live up to. The fight we must win This month, nearly 11 thousand competitors from all around the world united in the world’s most important athletic competition. It was a unique occasion to reflect on the urgent challenges facing humanity. AIDA helps the nations of Latin America tackle these challenges.  We work to improve air quality, and mitigate short-lived climate pollutants, which remain in the air for a relatively short time, yet generate extreme changes in climate, degrade air quality, and damage crop yields. We believe the fight against climate change is the most critical of all fights. To truly achieve victory, we must ensure we don’t break the 1.5 °C record. Our ability to win it requires us all to work as one global team.

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Large Dams, Indigenous Rights

Brazil & The Olympics: Signs of Danger, Signs of Hope

By Rodrigo da Costa Sales, AIDA attorney As the Brazilian flag was raised at the Rio Olympics to the soft sounds of acoustic guitar, the familiar words of my country’s national anthem struck me: Giant by thine own nature, Thou art beautiful, thou art strong, an intrepid colossus, And thy future mirrors that greatness. For centuries, it’s been easy, a point of pride, to celebrate the natural bounty of our landscape, from the mighty Amazon basin to the thousands of miles of pristine coastline.  What’s proved most difficult is defending it. Last year Brazil was the world’s most dangerous country for environmental defenders. At least 50 of us were killed; so far this year, 23 have been assassinated. The Amazon, where I was born and spent my childhood, is the epicenter of these crimes. Plantations and ranches have been built on land where homes once stood. Indigenous and Afro-Brazilian communities, guardians of the natural world, have been evicted from lands passed down through the generations. It’s clear that economics and development have been prioritized above public health and wellbeing. Increasingly, large dams are also becoming agents of dispossession in the Amazon. On the mighty Rio Xingu, the massive Belo Monte hydro dam displaced indigenous communities that depended on and cared for the river basin. Vast amounts of rainforest were destroyed, with disastrous impacts on wildlife. Several plant and animal species are now extinct; literally tons of fish died, likely from contamination. Altamira, the city closest to the dam, is now ranked third in Brazil for violence and inequality. Belo Monte is hardly bringing equitable and just development to Brazil.  There are reasons for hope, though. A couple of things that happened last week made me believe we might see some positive changes in the near future. First, the government denied the environmental license for a Tapajós River mega-dam that would have repeated the destruction of Belo Monte, devastating the lands and culture of the Muduruku people. The second is more symbolic – the opening ceremony of the Olympic games. I was particularly moved by the focus on two issues that Brazil must make a priority in coming years: deforestation and climate change.  The attention to environmental crisis was powerful. It would have been even stronger, though, if indigenous people hadn’t been portrayed only as relics of Brazil’s ancient origins. In reality, our indigenous groups are crucial players in present and future efforts to achieve sustainability. To a certain extent, hope is what the Olympics are all about.  They bring the world together for a common good, and, at their best, aid in the development of a peaceful society concerned with preserving human dignity across all continents. Although I have deep personal disagreements with the execution of the Olympics in Rio, I hope Brazil takes seriously the symbolic commitment demonstrated in the opening ceremony. I hope Belo Monte is the last case of its kind. I hope human rights and environmental defenders can work safely and without fear. I hope future generations grow up in a country that really is “giant by thine own nature.” Only then will our future truly be as great as the magnificent lands we call home.   Please consider making a donation to AIDA today to help us make the future great for people in Brazil and throughout Latin America.

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Brazil inaugurated Belo Monte: There’s nothing to celebrate!

The Brazilian government grandly inaugurated the Belo Monte Dam, which sits on the Xingu River in the midst of the Amazon. As an organization that legally represents affected indigenous and riverine communities, as well as residents of the city of Altamira, we consider there to be no reason to celebrate. The dam has been built by overlooking national and international standards that safeguard the environment and human rights.  GET TO KNOW MORE about this injustice through the words of our senior attorney María José Veramendi Villa!    

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Photo Essay: Life in the shadow of Belo Monte

By Anna Miller, AIDA writer Deep in the Amazon in north Brazil, the world’s third largest dam towers over a once lush jungle landscape. In its far-reaching shadow live the indigenous and riverine communities who have long called the region home. They are people who have lived and grown by the bounty of the forest and the Xingu River. For most, the natural world that surrounds them is inseparable from their definition of home. But that home is changing rapidly. As the Belo Monte Dam begins operations, and its floodgates open, their world is looking and feeling very different. Large stretches of jungle have been flooded, islands completely submerged. The fish are dying, the wildlife scared away. Families have been separated, and entire communities forced from their land. The shadow cast by Belo Monte is long, and it is dark. The lifestyle of the people of the Xingu river basin has been drastically changed without their consent. Their basic human rights have been violated time and time again. The operating company’s attempts at compensation would be laughable, if they weren’t so heartbreaking. The photos that follow depict people and communities who are living amid the volatile realities of this once peaceful patch of rainforest. They are victims of the corruption, violence and abuse that have come to envelop the largest engineering project in Brazil’s history.  The Xingu River is dying. Arapujá Island, visible from Altamira, has been completely stripped of life, causing radical change in river currents. Smaller islands where fishermen lived surrounded by fruit trees have been submerged by rising water levels, as the dam’s reservoirs are filled. On one day in January, the Belo Monte dam opened its floodgates without warning; the river is said to have risen more than 20 feet in an hour. Massive amounts of fish have been dying off; locals say Norte Energía even has cleanup crews that bury them, to hide the scale of the daily devastation. Downstream from the dam, the flow of the river at the Big Bend is reducing drastically; the water is becoming muddy and deoxygenated. Communities near and far—from indigenous people to riverine fishermen—are suffering the impacts, as their lives are torn from the river they know so well. As the Xingu dies, they too lose their lives—for the river itself has long been their home, their source of food and livelihood.  The construction of Belo Monte has had severe impacts on the natural world, which has long been the primary food source for jungle communities. Tribes who have lived a subsistence lifestyle are finding the river and the jungle they rely on aren’t producing enough, or are too contaminated, to feed their families. Indigenous people have been driven into the nearest city, Altamira, to meet their basic needs. Some go to buy food or go to the doctor; others have succumbed to the struggle and left their village entirely. Many who come to Altamira stay at Casa Do Indio, a house built as a shelter for the recent influx of indigenous peoples. There, they stay in overcrowded rooms, lacking proper sanitation and endangering their health. Far from their homes, stripped of their dignity, they are confronted with the harsh realities of a violent and overcrowded city.   As the city closest to Belo Monte, Altamira has undergone drastic changes due to the dam’s construction. Since the project began, the city’s population has grown by nearly 75 percent; 170,000 people are currently living in a city designed for far fewer. Violence has skyrocketed and entire neighborhoods have been destroyed, displacing residents and demolishing longtime family homes. Even neighborhoods Norte Energía claimed would be unaffected by the dam are experiencing its impacts. The rapid growth has wreaked havoc on the city’s sewage system. Belo Monte’s operators have implemented no water or sewage treatment solutions whatsoever, and the entire city is suffering from a lack of basic sanitation. As a result, muddied and flooded streets are widespread. People are demanding answers from Brazil’s Environmental Authority, and from Norte Energía. But they’re left with only questions.  The impacts of Belo Monte are not just forcing people from their land; they are tearing people away from each other. As homes are destroyed, and entire villages relocated, the individuals ripped from their lives are struggling to adapt. Communities are losing touch with their traditions; daughters are losing touch with their mothers. Karoline grew up in a rural community surrounded by her family and the rich natural world she remembers so fondly. When her family had to leave their land behind, they didn’t have many options, and were forced to split up. Her parents went to stay with relatives, and Karoline and her sister left for Altamira. Seeking opportunities, education, employment, they too have since parted ways. As a teenager, Karoline is on her own now, far from home.  As a requirement of the project’s implementation, Norte Energía must comply with certain conditions, designed to benefit affected communities. They have been implemented in different forms for different situations, none of which could be described as full, adequate or culturally respectful. The Arara da Volta Grande is one of the communities that will be most impacted by Belo Monte. They live on the Big Bend of the Xingu, where the flow of the river has been substantially reduced. To compensate the community for changes to their way of life, Norte Energía is building them “better” houses. Though still within their territory, the structures are located away from the river. They are made of cement and have thick roofs that trap the jungle heat inside each little box. They are a far cry from the wooden, open, thatch-roofed homes traditional to the Arara’s culture and community. Instead of providing the Arara people with a functioning well to provide clean water, Norte Energía has given the community houses they don’t know how to live in; houses that, each and every day, would pull them further away from where they’ve always been.  When we talk to members of the indigenous and riverine communities surrounding Belo Monte, we listen to the same answers to many of our questions. The dam is disrupting their way of life. It’s cutting them off from the natural world around them. It’s threatening their culture, their traditional knowledge and the very structure of their communities. Leoncio Arara, a traditional healer from the Arara da Volta Grande, says he now lives in fear. Fear of the dam breaking, of the water rushing down and flooding his home and his community; fear of the fish dying, of the clean water drying up; fear of the dissipation of his culture and the disappearance of his people, who have lived on and with this land for generations.  In the once-lush jungle surrounding the massive Belo Monte dam, we see injustice everywhere we look. We see displacement and environmental devastation. What we don’t see is accountability. That’s why we've taken the case to the Inter-American System of Human Rights to have Brazil respond on an international level to the allegations of human rights violations stemming from the construction of the Belo Monte Dam. We’re dedicated to this struggle and we won’t rest until the people we represent, and all those whose lives have been affected by Belo Monte, see justice.  

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Brazil mega-dam ‘disaster’ for tribes as it nears completion

Belo Monte hydroelectric plant is flouting agreements to protect indigenous communities as its builder seeks approval to start generating power, environmental lawyers have warned. The US$11 billion dam on an Amazonian tributary – set to be the third-largest producer of hydropower globally – has met just 30% of the social and environmental conditions set by government, said AIDA Americas. “It is clear that the conditions necessary for Norte Energia, the consortium in charge of the project, to receive the licence are not in place,” said a statement on Monday. The dam is 70% built. Brazil’s largest infrastructure work will divert the Xingu River, forcing the relocation of 2,000 families as pristine rainforest is flooded. Federal prosecutors have recommended the relocation be suspended. Environmental groups have petitioned the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights to oppose the government’s granting of a license, on the basis it could destroy tribes’ means of survival. “Giving free rein of operation to the dam at this time would mean completely shutting down the options available to avoid major social and humanitarian disasters in the region,” said Sandy Faidherb of SDDH, a local activist group which filed on behalf of the affected communities. The government has said Belo Monte will supply Brazilians with clean energy and develop the country’s economy. The dam has been designed to minimise damage, and will flood less than half – 478 sq km in 28-mini reservoirs – of the area affected by the Brazil’s largest Itaipu hydroplant, the Guardian reported. That comes at a cost to power output, as not shutting off entirely the river means the plant will work on average at barely 40% of its 11,200 MW capacity. The Xingu River basin in Para state is a “living symbol of Brazil’s cultural and biological diversity,” home to 25,000 indigenous people from 40 ethnic groups,according to Amazon Watch. Wildlife populations have drastically declined at another dam, Balbina, built in the 1980s, after a 3,500-island archipelago slashed habitat to roam and exposed the likes of tortoises and gamebirds to wind and wildfires.

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Belo Monte: the river may be dying but the search for justice never will

“The river is dead!” exclaimed Raimundo as we navigated in his motorboat from Altamira toward the big bend of the Xingu River. From my perch in Raimundo’s boat, it was easy to see how bleak the landscape surrounding Altamira—the northern Brazilian city closest to the construction of the Belo Monte Dam—has become. The big island of Arapujá, located across from Altamira, has been completely deforested, causing a radical change in the currents of the river. Many of the smaller islands, previously inhabited by fishermen, are now completely submerged, only the tops of trees visible above the rising water. I visited Altamira, and the indigenous and riverine communities nearby, with colleagues from Justiça Global. We came to update our case, and to inform those affected by Belo Monte of a new hope for justice: in December, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights opened the case against Brazil for human rights violations caused by the dam. In January, Norte Energía, the company charged with the construction and operation of Belo Monte, opened the dam’s floodgates without warning communities living downstream. They say the Xingu grew seven meters in just an hour. In some communities, the rising water flooded their riverside land, taking with it canoes, boats and items of clothing. Destroying lives The boat took us to a spot in the river where a large island once stood with a house in the middle. Raimundo Nonato had lived there. He raised animals and dedicated his life to fishing. It had been the perfect place to bathe in the river. It was there, in 2013, that Antonia Melo, leader of Movimento Xingu Vivo Para Siempre, baptized me as a defender of these waters. Now the island is under water, and all that remains to be seen are the tops of some fruit trees. Leoncio Arara, an indigenous man from the community Arara da Volta Grande, says his community lives in fear of the river’s expected growth, the loss of their culture and way of life, and from the recent death of 16 tons of fish. They have seen cracks in the dike of the dam’s bypass channel and fear it will break, as the Fundão mining waste dam did in Minas Gerais. On our tour of the area, we also noticed discolored patches on the dike, which should certainly be a sign of alarm. Leoncio said the fear keeps him up at night. On the indigenous lands of the Arara da Volta Grande and Paquiçamba, the life of inhabitants has changed radically. They must now travel to the city (Altamira) to sell their harvest and to buy food. The changing environment has drastrically reduced opportunities for fishing and hunting, rendering their traditional subsistence lifestyle inadequate. Leoncio says that his peoples’ traditional knowledge and community life are being lost. Their homes are different, as is the formation of their village. Norte Energía has carelessly constructed houses that conflict with their culture, because of the location and materials used. Their community lacks even a well from which to retrieve drinking water, a condition that should have been met more than five years ago. Pain, injustice and struggle On our trip, we spent nine days in the area around the Belo Monte dam. We listened to so many stories of pain and injustice: of indigenous children that died from bad medical care in villages without access to the city; of indigenous people who left their villages to seek shelter in the city and now live in the overcrowded Casa del Indio, surrounded by filth and, often, conflicting ethnic groups. We relived the stories of tireless struggle, like that of Socorro Arara, an indigenous woman whose home was destroyed, along with those of her relatives. Socorro and her family all had to haggle with the company, as if their basic human rights were negotiable. Some received very little money in compensation, others the option of a prefabricated house in a neighborhood far from the river. Socorro’s parents live in one of those neighborhoods. Behind their new cement house, they built a small home with the wood they were able to save from their destroyed home. It is there that they really live, by the light of small kerosene lamps, sleeping in hammocks. Electricity is not part of their lives. Residents of Altamira live surrounded by the ironies of the third largest dam in the world. On February 28, Altamira and various cities in the state of Para were left without electricity. The cutoff, described by the receptionist at our hotel as routine, was due to testing on one of the dam’s turbines. There’s not much time now until the Belo Monte begins operation. If, for the countries of the region, Belo Monte represents the cherished dream of development, for me it represents a nightmare from which I’m dying to awake. It’s a nightmare of pain and human rights violations, in which a beautiful, living river is quickly fading away. Going with it are the lives and the dreams of those who have long depended upon its clean and healthy waters. Human rights are not negotiable. The victims of Belo Monte need justice now! It is that dream of justice that I hope, one day soon, becomes reality. -- I wrote these lines in honor of all the people who have dedicated their lives to defending our rivers and our life.  

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