Coal article that mentions Salem
The Chronicle-Herald
Opinion, Saturday, March 26, 2005, p. A11
Ralph Surette

The dirty story of where we get our coal

NOVA SCOTIA POWER gets the best quality coal it can at the cheapest price
on the international market. Always sensitive to the price of electricity
and, increasingly, to pollution, Nova Scotians would blame it if it did
any less.

But there's an underside to the story. NSP gets that coal from the El
Cerrejon Norte coal mine in northern Colombia, a notoriously dirty piece
of business in that unfortunate country where it's hard to tell which is
worse: the army and its paramilitary killers, the armed narco-traffickers,
the rebel insurgents or the foreign corporations backed by the World Bank.

El Cerrejon Norte, one of the world's largest open-pit mines - occupying
an original area 50 kilometres long and eight wide, and expanding
constantly - is a continuing horror story of forced relocations of
indigenous people, human rights violations, environmental destruction and
other assorted injustices that one human rights group calls "a perfect
example of globalization gone horribly wrong."

The subject comes up because Francisco Ramirez, president of the National
Coal Miners Union of Colombia, was in Halifax this week trying to make a
point. The most remarkable thing about Ramirez, apart from his immense
courage, is that he's still alive. A total of 74 unionists were killed in
Colombia last year alone and Ramirez says he has dodged seven
assassination attempts.

He wants NSP and anyone else with clout to pressure the multinationals and
the Colombian government to respect human rights. Despite the
reasonableness of this request, he doesn't appear to have received much of
a hearing at NSP. What should we think, then, since our demand for coal is
part of the problem?

First, here's more of the story. The mine began as a joint venture between
the Colombian government and Exxon Corporation 25 years ago intended to
supply cheap, high-quality coal to North America and Europe.

It bordered on and partly covered reservation land of the indigenous Wayuu
people, whose way of life has been largely shattered.

In 2000, as a result of pressure to privatize from the World Bank and the
International Monetary Fund, the Colombian government sold its half to an
international consortium. In 2002, Exxon (now Exxon-Mobil) sold its half
to the consortium as well - but not before the community of Tabaco (pop.
700) was bulldozed flat to expand the mine.

It was done so quickly and without notice that residents, pushed out by
500 soldiers and 200 police who accompanied the mine operator, didn't even
have time to retrieve their personal effects. When the job was complete,
the village's school and clinic were also razed and the cemetery
desecrated. There was no compensation. Critics accused Exxon of doing this
as part of the deal, before it bowed out.

If such corporate degeneracy, done in our name as First World consumers,
shock us, what can we in fact do?

Here's one thing. In 2002, representatives of the Wayuu visited Salem,
Mass., where the power plant imports coal from the mine. Salem city
council promptly passed a resolution supporting their struggle, and the
power plant manager called the El Cerrejon Norte operators telling them
the town expected them to negotiate with the Wayuu and find a just
settlement.

Since our electrical system in Nova Scotia (80 per cent coal) functions on
these people's misery, don't we owe them as much? If we are indeed a moral
people, why wouldn't our legislature pass a similar resolution and NSP
similarly convey its expectation that justice be done?

The Wayuu representatives, in their U.S. tour, went on to the Exxon-Mobil
shareholders' meeting where their story caused some embarrassment.
International support has been growing. Meanwhile, the Colombian supreme
court has ruled that the residents of Tabaco be compensated - although
collecting has proved elusive.

Nevertheless, a half dozen communities beyond Tabaco that were expected to
suffer the same fate by now - their names are Tamaquitos, Guamachito,
Provincial, Roche, Patilla and Chancleta - haven't yet. Meanwhile, the
company's publication, which I found on the Internet, is bragging about
supporting a couple of medical clinics in the area. Maybe even they are
having twinges of conscience. Can we do any less?

Ralph Surette is a veteran Nova Scotia journalist living in Yarmouth
County.

C 2005 The Chronicle-Herald - Halifax. All rights reserved.