Feature: Fighting Monsters In Guatemala

By Nicola Pauling

The corporate web around this story is tangled. I could unweave it for you, but trust me, the outcome is predictable; faceless U.S trans-nationals running rampant in a developing country, exploiting human rights and now hiding from responsibility.

What needs telling here is the story of 150 men from a village outside Guatemala City. What bonds them and their families, apart from unemployment and poverty is a giant struggle for justice.

It’s a struggle that has claimed 2 victims so far. A seven-month-old baby boy and a young man in his early twenties.

It begins in May of 1998. The men, steel workers, were employed to construct what was already a controversial coal-burning power plant. It was to be the biggest in Central America. Already several countries had rejected the plant, concerned about environmental impact. Guatemala said yes to the project, which was funded to the tune of $32 million by the U.S government loan agency OPIC.

Spokesman for the group, Ricardo Merida, tells me there was never an intention to form a union, the move was borne out of necessity. The work place had no toilets, no place to wash before eating, no place to eat. More pressing was the lack of safety equipment for those who worked up high, with electrical equipment in the pouring rain of the hurricane season.

A one-day strike appeared to deliver results. The men believed they had a promise of improvement. But instead the company began a programme of mass firing. 150 men were to lose their jobs. “Not only did we lose our jobs, we lost our right to work “ says Ricardo. “A black list was created and it appeared on the computer screens of every major employer in our area. We’d been tagged as trouble makers, no one wanted to know us.”

The outraged group, all indigenous Mayan Indians, banded together and decided to fight their ex employer in court. Ricardo believes the first judge to hear the case was paid to have it moved to another province. Despite a sudden jump in travel and accommodation costs the group was undeterred. Over the next two years the workers won a series of verdicts and appeals, all the way to the country’s constitutional court, that ruled the men must be reinstated, with back pay.

But the ruling has been ignored by the company and poorly enforced by the Guatemalan Government.

When I meet six of the men, home was the steps of Guatemala’s Presidential Palace. A small sign read day 187. It has been the longest union vigil in Guatemalan history. There is a rota, 15 to 20 men a week at a time. Ricardo says the others work underground selling mangos, chewing gum, anything to support their families.

There are mattresses where the men sleep at night and a small cooker. Banners and posters are draped across the building’s façade, six months ago they were new, now stained black from the diesel of passing city buses. There are press clippings detailing their story and it’s clear they’ve had to perform “stunts” to get that attention. A hunger strike lasted 20 days but was suddenly called off after one man became seriously ill. “No amount of money is worth the life of one of our own” says Ricardo.

But through no fault of their own this struggle has cost lives. In April the family of one worker lost a 7 month old baby boy to a preventable illness. “They say healthcare is free in this country but it’s not” says Ricardo, “the child received treatment at a local hospital but his parents couldn’t afford the necessary medicine.”

Another family lost a son who was pulled from university when his father lost his job. The young man took a job as a bus conductor. It’s a dangerous profession in Guatemala, where conductors hang outside a moving bus calling for punters. He died in an accident.

Photos of the 2 victims hold a prominent place on the steps of the palace, where life, say the men is “tough and stressful”. So far the Guatemalan President has refused to meet with group leaders who believe he is the only person who can enforce the courts ruling.

Recently palace staff offered to install a hose to supply clean drinking water, a proper pin board to place posters and even a screen to separate their sleeping quarters from the street. “They are trying to tidy up this protest, they are embarrassed about us” says Walter Beltran. The offer was refused.

“How much longer will you stay here? What if in another six months there’s been no progress?” I ask. “There is no back peddling for us” says Oscar Hernandez, “we are not prepared to go home empty handed, our future depends on this, the law is on our side.”

The power plant is now up and running. Union members were quickly replaced by short term contract workers, a position that makes union organising illegal. It’s estimated the plant generates $1 million worth of energy a day. It would take less than half a days earnings to settle this case.

In the meantime 400 children go without schooling, the cost of uniforms and books impossible to cover. “This is the price we pay” says Ricardo “as we’re fighting American Monsters.”

You are encouraged to email comments regarding this story to:
Alfonso Portillo, Guatemalan President; mensajes@presidentportillo.gob.gt
OPIC representatives; msant@opic.gov or gmagg@opic.gov
Charlotte Roe, US State Department; roece@state.gov

The Web: the men were employed and then sacked by DYMEL, a company based in El Salvador and sub-contracted to U.S construction giant J.A Jones. J.A Jones was itself contracted to construct the plant by Teco Energy, based in Florida. Teco, who own the plant, received funding for the project from the U.S Government Credit Agency OPIC.

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