On October 31, thousands of people from around the world gathered in Quito, Ecuador, to protest the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) ministerial summit.
Trade representatives from 34 countries hammered out the second draft of the agreement, which would “unite the economies of the Western Hemisphere into a single free trade area,” resulting in tremendous human rights violations and ecological devastation. The Journal received the following eyewitness account from a US activist in Quito.
I don’t know if I feel like crying because I am so moved by what I saw today, because my mucous membranes are shot to hell from too much tear gas or out of sheer exhaustion.
Tonight, I watched some of the most oppressed people in the world confront some of the most influential. I watched a group of poor farmers, indigenous people and workers speak, shout, sing truth to power. I think I watched the terrain of hemispheric politics shift before my eyes. I feel so inspired, and I feel so humbled.
When the day started, I was 13 miles south of Quito, with maybe 300 indígenas. We were one of two protest caravans that had crossed the country to spread the word about the protest against the FTAA summit. The other caravan reported that it had 80 people. “And this is how it ends,” I thought. “Four months of work, promising reporters, funders and countless activists in North America that thousands of people would come to disrupt the FTAA ministerial meeting. And we were going to end up with 500 people rallying in a park.” However, soon after we got down off the buses and began the seven-mile trek to Quito, the number of people seemed to mysteriously increase.
The procession was a riot of color, and people lined the streets to watch as it passed by. One shopkeeper explained to me that the indigenous people were like burros, dragging along the rest of the country—who also are opposed to the FTAA but who let the indigenous movement carry the torch for their opposition.
When we finally reached our destination, we rounded the corner and found up to 6,000 people waiting. As the two groups approached each other, people on each side were visibly stirred. Some began to run. At this point, I realized that after months of frantic organizing, the mobilization was a reality, that we had already won, that thousands of campesinos and indígenas had come to Quito to reject US-style “free” trade. And I simply began to bawl.
Our group continued toward the Marriott hotel, where trade ministers from North and South America were arriving to negotiate a treaty that would wipe out small farmers, hand corporations a sweeping set of tools to evade environmental, consumer and labor laws, as well as force the privatization of water, health care, education, culture and biodiversity.
As we headed north, we were joined by large groups of campesinos, students, trade unionists and international activists that had already been fighting battles with the police.
The march was led by a line of campesino and indigenous leaders (dirigentes) walking arm-in-arm, preceded by a shaman conducting rites to improve the success of our efforts. We were soon stopped by several hundred riot police. The dirigentes asked to send a delegation of civil society groups into the summit to deliver a giant letter containing thousands of proposals and comments from campesinos who couldn’t come to the protest. The request was soundly refused.
They deliberated and decided to head west toward the Volcan Pichincha. As we rounded the corner, we saw at least a thousand people ahead of us. More groups drifted in from the sides, and soon the street was packed for perhaps eight or 10 blocks, with more people out of sight. There must have been between eight and 15,000 people. There were giant puppets, a smattering of black-clad anarchists, labor leaders, a surprising number of international activists and lots of campesinos. From 75-year-old women to small children, everyone was visibly thrilled to be there.
The police began to volley tear gas both at and over the crowd—so that as people ran away, they ran into more gas. I walked until I couldn’t see or breathe, then began to run, then someone grabbed my hand and led me away. The president of the National Judicial Workers Union was hit with three tear gas canisters and taken to the hospital. Several young kids passed out and almost asphyxiated. One woman fell on her baby, and the baby was injured.
The attack was a reminder that “free” trade can only proceed with brutal repression, which is now so commonplace at trade summits that it hardly elicits comment.
At six p.m., the dirigentes decided to try once more to deliver their giant letter—this time at the Swiss Hotel, where the trade ministers were meeting with assorted corporate CEOs and trade lobbyists. In a strategic attempt to boost legitimacy and deter disruptive protests, the government had made offers to allow a couple of civil society representatives to address the ministers. On these terms, the indigenous and campesino groups had refused. Tonight, 2,000 people marched up to the police barricades and demanded that a much larger delegation be allowed to deliver the letter. Clearly hoping to avoid the kind of confrontations that have occurred in past uprisings here, the government allowed 45 people from across the hemisphere to meet with the ministers.
Hearing this was going on, I ran to the hotel, easily passing through several police lines because I had press credentials for the summit. I followed the shouting until I reached an auditorium where perhaps 20 trade ministers sat uncomfortably on stage while 45 campesinos chanted that they had no desire to be a US colony. It was a scene that was, I think, unprecedented in the history of trade negotiations.
Soon the civil society presentations began. A line of people fanned out in front of the ministers holding signs that said, “Sí a la vida, No al ALCA” (Yes to life, No to the FTAA). Behind the podium stood an indigenous representative holding a beautifully painted Inca sun that had North America and South America in the center with the words: “Sí Una Integración Solidaria Con Respeto a la Soberanía de los Naciones.” (Yes to an integration based on solidarity, with respect for the sovereignty of nations.)
The first speakers were representatives of an international meeting of parliament and Congress members from across the hemisphere. They condemned the FTAA process and called for an alternative agreement, one that respects the needs and particular situations of the people from each country.
Several representatives of a “civil society” forum that was organized by a number of relatively pro-neoliberal organizations with close ties to the government came next. Their proposals were generally tepid, but they were for the most part drowned out by the crowd.
Finally, the social movement representatives spoke. Leonidas Iza, the president of CONAIE (the Ecuadorian indigenous federation), stated the social movement’s clear rejection of the FTAA and neoliberalism. “We don’t have food to feed our children. Our markets are flooded with cheap imports. Imported milk is dumped in Ecuador for half of what it costs to produce, and multinationals sell it back to us for more than we can afford. We have no way to live, and the FTAA will only make it worse. When we complain, the US government calls us terrorists. We are not threatening anything, but we are hungry and tired. Things have to change.” In the wake of widening protests throughout Latin America, the message was not lost on anyone.
Then a woman from Nicaragua read a statement that synthesized the results of dozens of workshops and forums held during the week. She spoke of the privatization, poverty and social exclusion the FTAA would bring, particularly for women. “We have not come here to dialogue,” she told the ministers, “because your governments have been closed to any type of real dialogue, to listening and taking into account the feelings of civil society. We have come here to demand the suspension of the FTAA negotiations and the final surrender of decisions affecting the destinies of our countries to the people of each sovereign nation.”
The meeting ended, and the moderator hurriedly announced that the ministers were leaving and could we please sit down so that they could leave. “No!” screamed the civil society folks in unison, and they pushed out the door, leaving the ministers sitting on the stage.
At that moment, I felt something shift. I realized that the FTAA had, in a few short weeks, gone from something whose praises its proponents sang, to something they needed to defend. Like the World Trade Organization before it, the FTAA has become a treaty that has to be sold to a people that do not want it. This is how it feels here.
If I am right, the hemispheric resistance to free trade and the FTAA has taken a huge step forward—even if this is but one day in a long struggle where many more battles will be fought.