Former Guatemalan dictator Efrain Rios Montt leaves the public prosecutor's office in Guatemala City (Jorge Lopez/Courtesy Reuters).
This is a guest post by Natalie Kitroeff, a research associate here at the Council on Foreign Relations who works with me in the Latin America program.
Last Thursday, former de facto President of Guatemala during military rule, General (ret) Efraín Ríos Montt walked into the Attorney General’s office to ask whether they planned on trying him on ten-year-old war crime charges anytime soon. He stands accused of committing genocide and crimes against humanity against indigenous civilians in the early 1980s – the most violent years of the country’s civil war. Flanked by his lawyer and a gaggle of reporters, he calmly told public prosecutors, “I’m here, I’m healthy, and I’m not afraid… if there’s a criminal investigation against me, it should go forth according to due process and I should stand trial.” While this may seem like an ill-advised move, it’s actually quite cunning given the weak hand he now holds.
When the new legislature takes office next month, Ríos Montt will officially lose his congressional seat, and with it his immunity from prosecution (granted to all members of congress unless they’re removed by court order). What’s more, the party he led for over two decades – the Guatemalan Republican Front (FRG) – is weaker than ever – winning just 2 percent of the vote in local elections last September. This is not good news for Ríos Montt, who has had his differences in the past with incoming president Otto Perez Molina. Longstanding tension between the two came to a head in 2000 when Perez Molina left army ranks to form his own Patriot Party (PP) after the ruling FRG government denied him a top spot in the military.
The newly strengthened Attorney General’s office may be an even bigger problem for the aging ex-General. With Claudia Paz y Paz at the helm this year, the Public Ministry has shown that it is willing and able to aggressively pursue his case, convicting four soldiers and charging five more for their roles in two massacres that occurred on Ríos Montt’s watch. But if he leaves the country he risks facing an even fiercer opponent in Spain’s National Court, which issued an international arrest warrant for Ríos Montt on genocide charges in 2006.
An obvious reason why Ríos Montt turned himself in voluntarily is that he wants to avoid the embarrassment of a very public arrest. He also may be angling to get in the good graces of public prosecutors, who have already detained his third in command, former Chief of Staff Hector Mario López Fuentes for acts of genocide. He has made clear that he intends to shed all responsibility onto his subordinates, using the excuse that he was the political, not the military leader during the civil war and was not aware of any human rights abuses. Regardless of his motives, the fact that Ríos Montt has to engage with the charges at all shows that something may finally be right with Guatemala’s fledgling justice sector.
Published in conjunction with Latin America’s Moment at the Council on Foreign Relations.
Andean protesters shout slogans against the government in Lima (Enrique Castro-Mendivil/Courtesy Reuters).
Last month Peruvian President Ollanta Humala signed the popular consultation law, approved unanimously by Congress in August. This new law will require all public and private investors to consult local indigenous groups if and when their activities may affect their communities or ancestral lands. This is an important democratic step forward, reaching out to citizens who have for years been left out of the political process. In Latin America more broadly, incorporating indigenous communities into politics is a key challenge for consolidating democracy. But these types of laws also have their dangers, specifically potentially negative effects on investment and economic growth. Peru is only the latest of the Andean countries to take on the so-called “indigenous question” — trying to balance economic development with greater social inclusion.
Of its neighbors, Colombia has the longest history and the best track record. It incorporated indigenous consultation into the 1991 Constitution, and then created a Division of Indigenous Affairs in the Ministry of the Interior, as well as offices of indigenous affairs within each of its military commands. To be sure, things haven’t gone perfectly – for instance some indigenous groups accuse President Santos of ignoring their interests in the latest national development plan. But overall Colombia has been successful, enabling a greater voice for all of its citizens while also attracting billions in investment in oil production, coal mining, and other industries.
More cautionary tales come from Bolivia and Ecuador. Both nations have large indigenous populations which historically have been socially and politically marginalized, and excluded from the economic benefits of resource extraction — often by foreign companies — taking place on their land. As these groups have increasingly organized and mobilized, their distrust and animosity has led to conflicts, violence, and the fall of more than one democratically elected government.
Current Presidents Evo Morales of Bolivia, and Rafael Correa of Ecuador have both struggled to balance inclusion with economic development. Morales has perhaps gone the farthest in providing a voice for indigenous groups within the new Constitution, but in return has seen foreign investment plummet. Since Morales’s election in 2006 Bolivia’s natural gas output has stagnated, and proven reserves have shrunk by about a third. In Ecuador, Correa began with the backing of the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE), but is now at odds with the country’s largest indigenous organization, backing away from many of their demands regarding new mining projects.
While Peru’s indigenous communities have yet to organize politically, there is a growing discontent among these masses, which took a toll on the previous government’s popularity and led to several uprisings around natural resources extraction. The most violent of these – known as the “Baguazo” – occurred during the summer of 2009 in the Amazonian province of Bagua, where 22 indigenous protesters and 12 police officers died in clashes over mining projects in the area.
For Peru, it remains to be seen whether Humala can channel these pent up frustrations positively into the political process without scaring off investment. As the Ecuadorean and Bolivian examples show, more than just rhetoric — or leftist credentials — are needed. But if the new government can pull off this delicate balance, it will help support continued fast paced economic growth.
Published in conjunction with Latin America’s Moment at the Council on Foreign Relations.
