Canada Props Up Peru’s Coup Government and Helps Canadian Mining Companies Exploit Crisis

 

Toward Freedom Editor Julie Varughese recently spoke with Ramiro Sebastián Fúnez, a Honduran communist content creator based in Los Angeles. Fúnez produced a film, “Nicaragua Against Empire,” which premiered May 15 on YouTube. The film casts a lens on the landscape, culture and geopolitics that led to the ongoing Sandinista Revolution in Nicaragua. Interviews with Sandinistas, peasants, as well as African and Indigenous peoples of the country’s autonomous zones were captured during a March 2021 13-member delegation Sanctions Kill and the Friends of the ATC (Asociación de Trabajadores Campa, or Rural Peasant Workers Union) organized.

The following interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

 

Julie Varughese: Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me. Let’s start with the purpose of the delegation.

Ramiro Sebastián Fúnez: The delegation I was on was called, “No to Sanctions in Nicaragua.” The ATC is Nicaragua’s oldest and strongest peasant workers union that played a central role in the Sandinista Revolution and was the organization that facilitated the land redistribution of over 4 million acres to peasants from the landlords, owned by the Somoza family dynasty. The delegation was organized by Friends of the ATC, which is the international solidarity organization of that group, and also Sanctions Kill, which a lot of U.S.-based anti-imperialist organizations are part of. The delegation was 13 days long, but I was only able to attend for about 10. It took place from March 12 to about March 25.

JV: All of the delegation participants were asked to complete a project related to this trip. Why did you choose to make a film?

RF: Film is one of the best ways to educate the masses, educate a broad range of people of all educational backgrounds. While I love writing, and my background is in writing and journalism, I feel nowadays people don’t take the time to sit down to read an article as they would to watch a film or documentary. That’s more accessible, especially to people who don’t necessarily know how to read or write. I felt producing a film was the best way to approach the project because it achieved the goal with the maximum end of teaching people and exposing people to the successes of Nicaragua’s Sandinista Revolution. To a broad range of people, not only in the U.S. and the European Union, but all over Latin America, where there is a Nicaraguan diaspora. It also highlights the diversity of revolutionary culture that has been produced by the Sandinista Revolution. Music is a big part of the culture of the Sandinista Revolution. Music that talks about workers’ rights, Sandino and fighting U.S. imperialism. Music, videos and art in one documentary form is the best way to incorporate everything.

JV: What kind of projects did the other participants create?

RSF: Some people made photo essays. That’s a great way to capture the Nicaraguan revolution. Others also wrote articles. I definitely think writing articles about Nicaragua is great. One person did a listicle like, “10 things you need to know.” Also, organizing seeds. The collection of seeds and books. One of the biggest struggles right now for countries that are being pillaged by sanctions is food sovereignty. Being able to grow your own food, independent from Monsanto, independent from the multinational imperialist agricultural companies. For example, in India, we have one of the highest farmer suicide rates in the world, who have been forced into growing GMO food. Part of the delegation work has been to help collect seeds for people in Nicaragua to help them continue to grow Native and Indigenous crops that have been grown in the Americas for thousands of years because the global elites are trying to eliminate that, trying to be the sole creators of these genetically modified seeds. We also collected books in Spanish and in Indigenous Nicaraguan languages like Miskito to deliver them to children on the Caribbean coast, which was hit hard by two hurricanes in November 2020.

JV: Nicaragua is part of what former U.S. National Security Advisor John Bolton called the “Troika of Tyranny.” Nicaragua has been hit by sanctions. How do sanctions affect the country and what can people in the United States do about that?

RSF: John Bolton definitely singled out Nicaragua. At the end of 2018, after the protests, he began imposing more sanctions like the NICA Act, limiting their trade just like with Cuba and Venezuela. I think one thing that sets Nicaragua apart from Cuba and Venezuela is Nicaragua has not been getting love. A lot of the progressive left that supported the Sandinista Revolution in the ‘70s and ‘80s has succumbed to the U.S. propaganda. The solidarity movement for Nicaragua is not as strong, but the problems are still urgent. I think the best way to explain the impact of sanctions is to bring it to a micro level, to bring it to a human level. “Sanction” sounds misleading or not specific. It doesn’t have the same effect as “economic warfare” or “economic blockade.” That’s the reason people in Cuba have referred to the U.S. embargo as a blockade. For example, if we compare the country of Nicaragua to a single mother who has recently lost her job and is struggling to find a job because of a criminal record she got for something she didn’t do. She’s being accused of abusing her children and not giving them food and water. She constantly has these credit card companies on her back, hounding her to sign up for debt and trying to control her life. When she refuses to accept the debt, they make up lies about her. They say she’s not feeding her children, and that when her children try to speak up, she suppresses them. It doesn’t matter if they’re true. The fact is they’re repeated over and over. So sanctions mean where the bank calls you to say, “We can’t do business with you because you’re hitting your kids and not feeding your kids. And if you call a lawyer, we’re going to accuse the lawyer of collaborating with the criminal. We’re going to accuse any workplace that tries to hire you of collaborating with the criminal.” Now that single mother is not able to feed her kids. We were originally supposed to go to Nicaragua in February, but it had to be postponed to March because American Airlines canceled our flights over the sanctions. So now there is less travel—same with commerce. It’s a strangulation.

JV: That’s a very helpful example to use. To use the example of a mother who cannot feed her children. How do these sanctions affect business people who come from outside?

RSF: The economy of Nicaragua had a change in 2007. There’s two stages of the Sandinista Revolution. The first stage was from 1979 to 1989. At this point, the party was more influenced by Marxism-Leninism and by liberation theology, which it still is to a degree. It was more influenced by Marxist economics and it had a very similar command economy model like the Soviet Union and Cuba, where there was very little foreign investment, where there was central planning. There were gains and losses with that model. Obviously, one of the gains was you didn’t have to deal with private enterprise and foreign bourgeois leaders trying to sabotage the economy. The con was it was entirely dependent on the Soviet Union and Cuba. So once the Soviet Union collapsed and once Cuba went into the special period in 1990, that same year Nicaragua’s economy went into a crisis. And that year, they had an election, and the neoliberal candidate, Violeta Chamorro, won the presidency. She implemented free-market reforms. Neoliberalism at its worst, where private companies ruled the country. The second stage of the Sandinista Revolution began in 2007, after the 2006 election of Daniel Ortega. The economic model is very different. The new government is called the Government of Unity and Reconciliation. So even though the Sandinista Party is in the front as a ruling party, it’s a consensus government where they work with the national bourgeoisie, where they’re more open to commerce with the imposition of labor laws. Interestingly enough, this has led to more economic gains, where they have the Sandinista government in power watching private enterprise. So when they mess up, the government is able to kick them out. For example, I visited a cigar factory in Estelí. Nicaragua is one of the biggest producers of cigars now. Even now, cigars that say they are “Cuban cigars” are made in Nicaragua in a factory owned by Cubans from Florida who are not necessarily on the political left. But they’re allowed to trade in the country because they follow the rules of the Sandinista government. I got to tour the cigar factor with the ATC and talk to the workers. While there is a private sector in Nicaragua—including foreigners—it’s still under the control of the Sandinista government. This is very similar to the model we see in Cuba, Vietnam, China or Venezuela. A small private sector does operate in the country as long as the benefits are for the Nicaraguan people.

JV: If sanctions are going to stifle your ability to do business, I almost wonder why anyone would want to stay doing business there.

RSF: That’s a great point. That’s the impact of sanctions. The sanctions are intended to scare these companies out. The sanctions are intended to criminalize any companies doing business with Nicaragua, in order to strangle their economy. That’s why I think the new mode of socialism includes private enterprise. But some use that for a justification, for saying [socialism] doesn’t work.

JV: How does the call of Nuestra America (Our America) resonate with the anti-imperialist movement in Nicaragua?

RSF: Nuestra America or Latin America unity is central to Nicaragua. Nicaragua had a central role in those movements in the 20th century, and even before that in movements in Latin America. Nicaragua is at the center of not only Central America, but Latin America, geographically. It’s at the crux of north and south, it’s at the crux of the Caribbean, it’s at the crux of Mesoamerica, which includes Mexico and Central America. And very close by is South America. Nicaragua has historically been in a position to see potential unity between all Latin American and Caribbean countries, especially because it has one of the narrowest points in Central America between both oceans, where an inter-oceanic canal can be constructed to ease trade between all of the countries. Many people in Nicaragua have been working to create this canal to counter the Panama Canal, which is under the control of the U.S. imperialists. And to make this canal for use for the Latin American and Caribbean people. The concept of Nuestra America, which Jose Martí wrote about in his essays in the 1890s, is very central to Nicaragua, to many leaders. For example, the liberator of Central America, Francisco Morazán in the 1800s, who was from Honduras also fought some of his toughest battles in Nicaragua against the Costa Rican nationalists, who wanted to divide and split up the Central American Federation. Morazán, similar to Simón Bolívar in South America, wanted to unite Latin America as a federation of Latin American republics because they understood the United States was the rising imperial power, and the only way to defend their lands from tyranny would be to unite all of the countries as one United States of Latin America. In the early 1900s, you have Augusto César Sendino, who was one of the earliest members of the Central American Communist Party, which was the first, if not, the second communist party in Latin America, that sought to unite Latin America under one communist movement as the Soviet Union was growing. Sendino worked with Martí in El Salvador to build something like a Soviet Union in Latin America. This upheld the idea of Nuestra America, this upheld Martí, Morazán and other people, who envisioned a united Latin America. Later on, when the Sandinistas were able to win in 1979, they also sought to expand the revolution across the region. There’s a Time magazine article in 1980, where they show President Daniel Ortega. It says, “Reagan sees red.” They didn’t want just to claim victory in Nicaragua on the Sandinista front. They wanted to expand socialism across Central America. In late ‘70s and early ‘80s, El Salvador was in the middle of guerrilla warfare, and the Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front (FLMN) was very close to winning the entire country. The Sandinistas were arming, training and supporting them, to eventually revive this idea of a united Central America under socialism. So for many years, Nuestra America has been central to Nicaragua and I would argue Nicaragua has been one of the strongest proponents.

JV: In the United States, African and Indigenous peoples are colonized internally. From what you saw in Nicaragua with the autonomous zones over there, how do you think that would work in a settler-colonial state like the United States?

RSF: That’s a great question. One of the most inspiring things I was able to see in Nicaragua was they are able to not only talk about, but provide autonomy to Black and Indigenous people on the coastal areas. You hear liberals and hipsters in the United States talk about autonomy or free liberated spaces. These same liberals and hipsters will talk about Nicaragua, that it’s a dictatorship and say they betrayed socialism. That they’re revisionists, capitalists and tyrannical. But right now in Nicaragua, the two biggest departments are autonomous. The two autonomous regions make up more than 50 percent of the country. There’s actually more land for Black and Indigenous than for the Mestizo population. They’re building autonomy right now. It serves as a model for many countries, not only in Latin America, but around the world, that have nations within nations. One of the interesting things about comparing Nicaragua to the United States is both are a “prison house of nations,” as Vladimir Lenin described the Russian empire and later the Soviet Union. The United States is an imperialist country that, from its root, has been based on pillaging, colonialism, racism, banking, white supremacy. So the identity of the United States would have to be done away with. Nicaraguan nationalism is at its core anti-imperialist, and it’s a vastly smaller and poorer country. It’s vastly different from U.S. nationalism. But I think modelling the U.S., based on what’s happening in Nicaragua, there would have to be a restructuring of U.S. society, where nationalism and the flag are replaced. And autonomous regions could be created for Africans and Indigenous people, and Hawaii and Puerto Rico. When we flew into the autonomous areas, we needed special visas for traveling to that area. It was very easy with Sandinista representatives. But everything has to be done through local tribes and local communities. They have five levels of government. Aspects that can be learned from is like how private companies and the government have to pay a tax to the Miskito people, or the Garifuna people, or other Afro-Indigenous communities. Not even the government has full control of the land. The local people lease them that space. Same thing with tourism: Foreign companies along the Caribbean coast, which is where a lot of the tourism is with the beaches, they have to pay a tax to the Indigenous groups, who at any point can decide those companies need to leave.

JV: What would you say to people who are interested in making films to share information about alternatives to the system inside the United States and to the U.S. empire?

RSF: It’s all about the story you tell and the people you’re speaking with. I went with a Canon camera that I’ve had for five or six years that cost $200, and a simple audio recorder. With that, I was able to speak to a lot of people. Looking back at the film, there are certain shots I look at, I can say, “I could do this better. I could do that better.” But I was the scriptwriter, the camera person. Everything was me. Everybody could do that. We live in a time where anyone could do that. Some of those shots, I recorded with my iPhone. It’s not so much the technology or equipment. The most important thing was making the right connections. If I didn’t have connections with the ATC, I wouldn’t have been able to have former Sandinista guerrillas show me the country after the armed struggle. That’s why it’s important to get involved with organizations, even if you’re an amateur [filmmaker]. That’s why mainstream media gets these stories wrong, because it’s like these random dudes from Europe dropping into a protest, who just take a flight to Managua. And it’s an illusion, because you go there and see a protest and think, “Okay, this must be good.” But without an OG, without an elder, without somebody who has seen what the country was like before socialism, during the neoliberal period, you’re not going to understand that context. There has to be some level of humility and open-mindedness. The right people are going to show you the right story. If you’re able to meet the right connections, that’s the best way to produce something like this that is able to show a different side of a country that is constantly bombarded by the mainstream media.

The Water Defenders: How Ordinary People Saved a Country from Corporate Greed by Robin Broad and John Cavanagh. Boston: Beacon Press; 2nd edition. March 23, 2021.

At a time when all caring people are seeking a new way forward out of a year of unimaginable death, destruction and rampant inequality, along comes a book that gives us hope that a better world may be possible. The book, recently published, is based on a struggle in a small section of a small country—El Salvador—beginning in 2002, when a group of “white men in suits” entered the province of Cabañas and tried to convince poor farmers that gold mining would be good for them. Their resistance, done at great peril and resulting in the assassinations of some of their leaders, ended up years later in a landmark case against corporate greed, garnering support from around the world. The basis of their success lies in the most fundamental of human needs: Water, for which left-right antagonisms fall apart once the deadly consequences of mining’s misuse of it—including causing cyanide poisoning—become patently clear.

Authors Robin Broad and John Cavanagh have brought us this amazing David versus Goliath story in their new book, The Water Defenders: How Ordinary People Saved A Country from Corporate Greed. Their first-hand accounts of working with front-line communities, both in El Salvador and in the United States. provide lessons along the way about how to fight an immensely powerful entity and win, whether the enemy be Big Gold, Big Oil or Big Pharma (to name a few). As they write in their introduction, “You may find yourselves surprised to find the relevance of the strategies of the water defenders in El Salvador, whether your focus is on a Walmart in Washington DC; a fracking company trying to expand in Texas or Pennsylvania, or petrochemical companies outside New Orleans.” By the end of the book, they added relevant struggles in countries like Bolivia, Venezuela, and Ecuador, as well as in South Africa, South Korea, and India.

In an interview with John Cavanagh, I asked if he and Broad had an inkling of the huge ramifications of their story right from the beginning, and his answer was decidedly no. In fact, when they first got involved, back in 2009, they never expected to win. They knew what they were up against and had no illusions. As they wrote about the ensuing years of twist-and-turn battles lost and won, the authors described a combination of events that made the water defenders’ decades-long struggle unusual… Yet now, with lessons learned, replicable.

Their involvement with the water defenders began in October 2009. That month, the Washington, D.C.-based Institute for Policy Studies (IPS), a progressive organization “dedicated to building a more equitable, ecologically sustainable, and peaceful society,” invited a group of Salvadorian water defenders to accept IPS’s annual Letelier Human Rights Award for their struggle against Pacific Rim (PacRim), a huge Canadian gold-mining company that sought permits in El Salvador. That year’s award was particularly poignant because one of the awardees, Marcelo Rivera, had been assassinated the month before. Five people still came to Washington, with Marcelo’s brother, Miguel, traveling in his place. Leading the delegation was a small-statured, seemingly nervous Vidalina Morales. But when she stepped up to the podium at the National Press Club and began her acceptance speech, her voice filled the room with a sense of urgency. She described the dangers of gold mining—for drinking water, for fishing and for agriculture. By the time she got to explaining the use of toxic cyanide in separating the gold from the rock, she had the audience—including the authors—mesmerized.

Another factor made this occasion different. Cavanagh, who is the director of IPS, explained that usually the awardees arrive in Washington to accept their awards and return home. But on this occasion, “They asked for our help. El Salvador had just been sued by PacRim in an international tribunal that argued that El Salvador had to allow it to mine gold or pay over $300 million in costs and ‘foregone profits.’ They also asked if we could help them with research on companies involved in gold mining.”

John had previously engaged with IPS in fighting against the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), and had become familiar with the tribunal and the rules set by the World Bank involved in regulating a global economy. Broad, for her part, had written her doctoral dissertation and first book on the World Bank, and she had worked on the bank at her job with the U.S. Treasury Department in the mid-1980s. But she was less familiar with the workings of the tribunal the World Bank had set up in 1964, “The International Center for Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID).” Its mission was to hear cases brought by foreign investors demanding compensation for lost profits from countries that tried to limit or regulate their activities. The couple figured they could be helpful.

“That’s how we were drawn in,” John explained, while emphasizing the extraordinary role local Salvadorans played in educating local communities about the dangers of landfills and then the dangers of gold mining. It was their groundbreaking work, often under dangerous conditions, that had earned them the Letelier award.

What happened next is a remarkable story of a growing North-South alliance that eventually went global, succeeding in two monumental victories: 1) a decision by ICSID in October 2016 that rejected PacRim’s claims for damages, while ordering the corporation to pay El Salvador $8 million in costs, and 2) the world’s first-ever comprehensive metals mining ban, brought by the El Salvador legislature in March 2019.

 

The Challenge

Up until 2016, Cavanagh explained, “we never thought we would win.” But that did not stop the momentum of coalition building, which had begun as early as 2005 by local village defenders, human rights advocates, farmers, lawyers, Catholic organizations and Oxfam America. They united to call themselves the National Roundtable on Metallic Mining, or La Mesa Frente a la Mineria Metálica—La Mesa for short. Their ultimate goal, beyond building resistance at the local level, “seemed like a pipe dream,” the authors wrote. That goal? “Getting the Salvadoran Congress to pass a new national law banning metal mining.”

Over the years, spurred on by their quest to find out who was responsible for Marcelo’s murder, the water defenders and their international allies yielded a treasure trove of insights on how to fight the Men in Suits, regardless of the outcome. Here are just a few lessons learned from their struggles described in the book:

• • Listen to the horror stories coming from refugees, in this case, those fleeing Honduras. Marcelo; his brother, Miguel; and Vidalina made several trips to Honduras to learn more about the gold mines there. (Honduras had become a haven for Big Gold after the 2009 coup). They returned with “shocking stories of rivers poisoned by cyanide, of dying fish and skin disease, of displaced communities, denuded forests, and corruption and conflict catalyzed by mining company payoffs.” Those trips, the authors write, made a huge impression on the water defenders and “crystallized their thinking… They were vigilant researchers, thirsty to know more.”
  • Seek out unexpected allies. One was Luis Parada, a Salvadoran government lawyer with a military background. As it turned out, he was a disciple of Sun Tsu, a Chinese military strategist from 2,500 years ago, who had written The Art of War. Among the lessons Parada (and Sun Tsu) imparted: “Know thy adversaries”—be one step ahead of them, and also know your possible allies. “Befriend a distant state while attacking a neighbor.” Luis also offered valuable practical advice, including the fact that the Sheraton Hotel in the capital, with its bar and pool, “offered some of the best intelligence in El Salvador.” Another unexpected ally was the ultra-conservative Archbishop Saenz Lacalle, a member of the right wing Opus Dei. “All it had taken was the word cyanide,” the authors explain, to cause him to oppose mining. His replacement in 2008, Archbishop Escobar, followed suit. He was “hardly an activist cleric,” but he “had long-held unexpected and firm views on mining,” and in his inaugural messages called on the government to reject mining operations in El Salvador. Getting the Catholic Church behind the water defenders was crucial. The martyrdom of Archbishop Oscar Romero, “whose photo is omnipresent throughout the country,” was no doubt a factor for widespread community support behind the water defenders, as was the encyclical put out by Pope Francis urging priests to take to the streets to defend the environment. Yet another surprise endorsement came from a member of one of El Salvador’s richest families and a leader of the right-wing ARENA party, which dominated the legislature. It turned out that John Wright Sol had a passion for the environment. Also noteworthy: His family’s vast sugar plantations consumed a lot of water. As he studied the impact of mining on water, he reached out to fellow members of ARENA. “I didn’t want to turn this into mining companies are the devil,” he advised. Instead, he chose to emphasize that “every citizen in the country must have access to clear water.”
  • Be wary of corporate PR campaigns. PacRim put out a report emphasizing that a whopping 36,000 jobs would be created from its mining operations, a vastly inflated claim. In radio interviews, PacRim aimed separate messages to the ARENA party and to the left-wing FMLN party, in which it claimed revenues would fund social agendas. Trips abroad arranged by PacRim often resulted in swaying politicians, whether on the left or right, to support their corporate agenda.
  • No matter how big, corporations can make mistakes. OceanaGold, a Canadian-Australian mining company which took over PacRim in 2014, had put on a brave face after the ICSID ruled against PacRim, acting as though it had won, and refusing to cough up the $8 million the company owed El Salvador. Yet it made a fatal error by choosing its mining operations in The Philippines as an example of its environmentally pristine practices. Broad knew otherwise, and along with other international allies had cultivated a professional relationship with the governor of the Philippine province where OceanaGold had its mine. Governor Carlos Padilla arrived in El Salvador on the eve of the crucial legislative vote on the mining bill and presented a “before and after” slideshow to the Environmental Committee. He pictured a lush landscape before the mining, contrasted with images of waste-filled “tailings ponds,” dead trees, dried-up springs and rivers, dead fish on river banks, and, as he explained, “No access to water for drinking or for irrigation.” He ended with an appeal to future generations. “Grandpa,” he imagined them asking. “Why did you allow mining?” 

His presentation was “sort of a clincher,” Cavanagh told me. “It raised the level of indignation.” The legislative vote followed soon afterwards, on March 29, 2019. The results were stunning, with 69 votes tallied against OceanaGold, zero nays and zero abstentions. Shouts of Sí, Se Puede!—“Yes we can!”—erupted from the floor, as members of La Mesa waved banners that read, “No a la Minería, Sí a la Vida”—No to Mining. Yes to Life!

Today, the water defenders remain cautiously optimistic, though constantly on guard. In the past, mining corporations have been able to convince even leftist governments that mining is good for the economy. Cavanagh speculates mayors of small towns, pressured to provide jobs, may have been behind the assassination of Marcelo Rivera and other water defenders.

But to date, Marcelo’s killers have never been identified. On an equally sobering note, he and Broad remind us in the book that “over 1,700 environmental defenders had been killed across 50 countries between 2002 and 2018.”

I asked John for an update since finishing his book in mid-2020. Nayib Bukele, El Salvador’s “new Trump-like president,” he wrote, “hasn’t raised mining, and it doesn’t look like he is personally interested. He knows the public opinion polls that showed that the overwhelming majority of Salvadorans are opposed to mining.”

However, he added, “We remain worried. El Salvador, like all developing countries, is suffering economically after the pandemic, and other countries have increased mining to get more revenues. So, La Mesa remains vigilant against any actions that could indicate that the government wants to mine.”

We can only hope that water defenders around the world will strengthen their alliances. Fortunately, they now have a handbook that will help them in their journey of resistance.

Charlotte Dennett is the co-author with Gerard Colby of Thy Will be Done. The Conquest of the Amazon: Nelson Rockefeller and Evangelism in the Age of Oil. Her new book is The Crash of Flight 3804: A Lost Spy, A Daughter’s Quest, and the Deadly Politics of the Great Game for Oil.

As the International #FreeAlexSaab Solidarity Committee reported June 6, a delegation is in Cabo Verde to meet Venezuelan envoy Alex Saab, who is imprisoned on U.S. orders. They aim to document the conditions of his confinement and demand his release.

Heading the humanitarian delegation is Cape Verdean religious leader Bishop Felipe Teixeira, Cape Verdean politician Pericles Tavares, and human rights activists Sara Flounders of International Action Center and Roger Harris of Task Force on the Americas.



In their first full day in Cabo Verde on June 4, the emergency human-rights delegation met with Saab’s lawyer and the Venezuelan ambassador, tried to meet with the local police commander, and saw first hand the prison-house where Saab is jailed. Heavily armed guards prevented a visit.

The solidarity committee is circulating a petition demanding Saab’s release and it is providing updates on Twitter.

 

Video of yesterday’s attempt to visit Alex Saab. Intimidating police presence. #FreeAlexSaabDelegation #FreeAlexSaab @FreedomAlexSaab @iacenter @TaskAmericas @RojoCamacaro @ecowas_cedeao @ghananews @CaboVerdeNews @All4GlobalJust @ninopagliccia @OrinocoTribune pic.twitter.com/bmXcm611GC

— FreedomForAlexSaab (@FreedomAlexSaab) June 6, 2021

Below is an edited version of Roger Harris’ May 26 article, which appeared in venezuelanalysis.com, after first being published in Dissident Voice.

The case of Alex Saab raises dangerous precedents in terms of extraterritorial judicial abuse, violation of diplomatic status and even the use of torture to extract false confessions. This is according to Montréal-based international human-rights lawyer John Philpot. He spoke on May 19 at a webinar sponsored by the Alliance for Global Justice and other groups about this example of the long reach of the U.S. empire enforcing its deadly sanctions on some one-third of humanity.

 

United States Sanctions Venezuela for Being Sovereign

Activist Stansfield Smith of Chicago ALBA Solidarity commented that the Saab case is part of a larger U.S. effort to use “lawfare” to impose its illegal sanctions, which the United Nations condemns as “unilateral coercive measures.” The United States employs sanctions to discipline countries that attempt to develop independently of U.S. domination.

The United States is able to extend its imperial reach through its domination of the international financial system, which is U.S. dollar-denominated and mediated through the monetary exchange known as SWIFT. By controlling the international financial system, Smith explained, Washington can demand banks in foreign countries accept U.S. restrictions or face sanctions themselves.

Venezuela’s resistance to U.S. interference, starting with Hugo Chávez’s Bolivarian Revolution two decades ago, has been punished by the United States with mounting sanctions so extreme that they now amount to an asphyxiating blockade, causing severe shortages of food and medicine. Activist William Camacaro of the Alberto Lovera Bolivarian Circle attested to the impact on the people of Venezuela. This U.S. effort to achieve regime change is, in effect, collective punishment to coerce the Venezuelans to reject their elected government.

Even a report from the U.S. government readily admits “sanctions, particularly on the state oil company in 2019, likely contributed to the steeper decline of the Venezuelan economy.” This crippling blow to its oil industry has impacted Venezuela’s capability to generate electricity, conduct agriculture, and generate income from oil sales to fund social programs and import vital necessities, all of which have negatively impacted the lives of ordinary Venezuelans.

Once a leading oil exporter, Venezuela’s ability to import equipment components for its oil refineries and light oil to mix with its heavy crude has been cut off by the United States, devastating its productive capacity. The United States has even blocked international oil-for-food swaps by Venezuela.

 

United States Targets Mission to Import Fuel and Food

Alex Saab, Venezuelan special envoy and ambassador to the African Union, was on a mission flying from Caracas to Iran to procure food and gasoline for the Venezuelan CLAP food assistance program. Saab was detained on a refueling stop in the African nation of Cabo Verde and has been held in custody since June 12, 2020.

Saab’s “crime,” according to the U.S. government, which ordered the imprisonment, was money laundering. That is, Washington considers Saab’s international trade circumventing deadly U.S. sanctions to be money laundering.

After a 2-year investigation into Saab’s transactions with Swiss banks, the Swiss government concluded on March 25 no money laundering was involved. The real reason Saab is being persecuted is because he is serving his country’s interest rather than that of the United States. Saab was born in Colombia, but now holds Venezuelan citizenship.

The U.S. mandate for the arrest and extradition of Saab would be like Saudi Arabia demanding the arrest and extradition of a British citizen visiting Italy for wearing short-shorts. In essence, the United States does not have legal jurisdiction over a Venezuelan in Cabo Verde on his way to Iran.

The legal fig leaf for what amounts to a kidnapping was an INTERPOL “red notice,” which was not issued until a day after Saab’s arrest and was subsequently dropped. Saab has specified, “they tortured me and pressured me to sign voluntary extradition declarations and bear false witness against my government.”

 

Saab’s Distinguished African Defense Team

Saab’s attorney in Cabo Verde, Geraldo da Cruz Almeida, explained to the webinar the absurdity of the politically motivated legal case against his client. Saab has violated neither Cabo Verdean nor Venezuelan law. Moreover, Saab’s diplomatic status should have given him immunity from arrest.

The United States does not recognize Saab’s diplomatic status. But then again, U.S. President Joe Biden maintains the fiction that the self-appointed and Trump-anointed Juan Guaidó is president of Venezuela.

Femi Falana, former president of the West African Bar Association, spoke to the webinar from Nigeria. Attorney Falana represented Saab before the regional Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) Court. On March 15, the court ordered Saab’s release and cancellation of the extradition.

Under U.S. pressure, Cabo Verde continues to hold Saab. Attorney Falana has called on Biden to respect the rule of law and human rights in Africa. Activist Sara Flounders of the International Action Center pointed out 15 of the 39 countries under illegal U.S. sanctions are African.

Ranking 175^th and 185^th among the countries of the world in terms of geographic area and economic size, respectively, the Republic of Cabo Verde is vulnerable to U.S. strong-arm tactics. It is resource-poor and depends on tourism and remittances from abroad. Shortly after Saab’s arrest, the United States gifted $1.5 million to private-sector entities in Cabo Verde on top of some $284 million total in U.S. aid over the last 20 years.

The U.S. State Department describes Cabo Verde as “an important partner” where the “current administration has prioritized relations with the United States and Europe.” The U.S. Bureau for International Narcotics Law Enforcement funds and supports activities in Cabo Verde, while the Boston Police Department works with Cabo Verde police.

Cabo Verde, it should be noted, is important in the history of African liberation. Marxist Amílcar Cabral led the liberation movement of Guinea-Bissau and Cabo Verde Islands and was assassinated in 1973, only months before declaring its independence from Portugal.

 

Setting a Precedent

Meng Wanzhou, a Chinese national doing business in Canada, is under arrest for “bank fraud” and is fighting extradition to the United States. North Korean Mun Chol Myong has already been extradited to the United States from Malaysia on similar charges to those used against Saab, for doing business according to international law rather than abiding by illegal U.S. measures.

In short, Saab’s is not an isolated case of U.S. misconduct around enforcing its illegal sanctions, but an emerging pattern.

That the United States can engineer the arrest of a diplomat—who has immunity per international law even in a time of war—is a dangerous precedent. That the arrest was extraterritorial is worse. This harkens back to the flagrantly illegal and inhumane U.S. practice of extraordinary rendition, which was used to populate the Guantánamo torture chambers.

The award-winning movie The Mauritanian is about the true story of crusading lawyer Nancy Hollander, who successfully freed a tortured innocent man from the made-in-the-USA hell of Guantánamo. The Hollander character, played in the movie by Jodie Foster, says: “I am not just defending him, I am defending the rule of law.”

The real-life Nancy Hollander attended the webinar. A lawyer’s delegation to Cabo Verde in solidarity with Saab is being planned and a petition campaign on his behalf is underway. These efforts recognize that the defense of Alex Saab is a defense of the rule of international law against illegal U.S. sanctions.