Gauchos battle small farmers over land for soya

ARGENTINA: Some of Argentina's cattle-ranchers have taken up intensive soya bean production with terrible results for small …

ARGENTINA: Some of Argentina's cattle-ranchers have taken up intensive soya bean production with terrible results for small farmers, reports Seamus Mirodan

The burnt red sierras, sand bowls and endless flatlands of northern Argentina, provide the backdrop for the Wild West of today. Pitched against one another in a struggle worthy of the 19th century frontiers are powerful landowners, known as haciendados on the one hand, and the campesinos, the small local farmers, on the other.

Abandoning their cattle ranching roots, the haciendados have left the lush grazing lands of the south and headed for the barren horizons and intense heat of the north, where they now cultivate millions of acres of lucrative genetically modified (GM) soya.

Egged on by multinationals such as Monsanto, the haciendados will stop at little to satisfy their thirst for more soil and have removed all human and natural obstacles in their path with a bulldozer. The forests, cotton crops and homes of the area's predominantly indigenous inhabitants have all been felled to make way for soya plantations.

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The landowners also refuse to practice crop rotation, a situation which could result in a crop failure and a fatal blow to Argentina's already battered economy.

One particularly striking example is that of 76 year-old goat farmer Dona Ramona Bustamente who set up house and home in the northern province of Cordoba 60 years ago.

Then, it was a sprawling landscape of undisturbed forests and barren flatlands, but heavy deforestation over the last 10 years has dramatically changed the local climate, and the once arid plains now teem with row upon row of neatly aligned soya plants.

Her peace and tranquility came to an abrupt end the night before New Year's Eve last year when 25 men equipped with bulldozers and firearms arrived at her family's makeshift stone and corrugated iron ranch.

When she refused to leave, they bulldozed the foundations of her home whilst she and her son Orlando were still inside. The police officers watched as the family and all their possessions were moved into the street and their house was raised to the ground by representatives of a landlord who had bought the deeds to her property from the local government.

Her case is one of many in Cordoba, where, according to official government figures, 20,000 families now live on land owned by a third party landowner. The problem has become so severe that a UN delegation of inspectors was sent to the region this week to investigate alleged human rights violations.

Their crop might belong to the 21st century, but the modus operandi of the landowners has remained unchanged since the 19th century.

The terrifying vision of a group of wild gauchos, or cowboys, descending upon a sleepy town with pistols blazing, hell-bent on taking possession of the surrounding lands in order to satisfy the unquenchable thirst of their patron for more soil is "as true an image of life in the north of Argentina today as it was then", said Daniel Martineli, president of the Argentine Small Producers Foundation (FAA) in Cordoba.

Gauchos were the hungry descendants of 19th century European immigrants who worked as hired guns for rich landowners in return for small plots of land. Like the Tango, they are a tradition which has survived the changing times and remains alive and well in Argentina today.

Dona Ramona, it turns out, had actually signed the rights of her property over to a Mr Schiaretti in 1992.

However, she cannot read or write and claimed that the landlord's agents had told her that she was simply registering her property.

To this day she is adamant: "I never wanted to leave." She is now living in the same place in a tent, refusing to leave despite having been charged with "usurping land" and "resisting authority".

The most disputed frontiers can be found one province to the north of the Cordoba amid the baking heat of backward Santiago del Estero.

Here, 800,000 acres of neatly aligned soya plantations stretch in every direction, the monotonous landscape is only occasionally punctuated by a solitary horse or a small herd of grazing cattle.

Despite the wealth this industry has brought the provincial government, most of the region's indigenous campesinos have no electricity, heating or running water in their crudely constructed ranches with roofs made out of compacted earth.

For them, the rule of law is virtually non-existent. Throughout the province many have been shot at, menaced and tortured by the modern-day gauchos; armed paramilitaries known as White Guards who patrol the terrain in unmarked jeeps, doing the bidding of the haciendados.

The latest victims of this GM apocalypse are the residents of Lote 5 near the tiny town of Quimili to the east of the province.

Ramon Gonzalez (62) said he built his house there 30 years ago, but last month saw it burnt to the ground along with four other properties.

"Condor Security came in the dead of night, broke the lock on the gate and drove us all out of our houses at gun point."

His friend Domingo Gonzalez lost everything. His one remaining wish is to be allowed back for a short while - "to save my cotton crops" - but members of the provincial police are posted at the gate of the property alongside an obese security guard, stripped to the waist, who tells him: "It's my duty to secure this land for my patron."

Now the small farmers have formed their own support organisation known as MOCASE (Movement of Santiago del Estero Campesinos).

They meet in a concrete barn near Quimili, with pictures of Che Guevara adorning the walls and discuss strategies to fight back against the haciendados.

Alicia, a 35 year-old woman, pointed out her home town Quitana on the provincial map and then told the meeting of MOCASE members: "Their thugs shot at us, beat up our kids and grabbed the women by their hair."

She joined MOCASE two years ago and is now "no longer afraid. We will defend ourselves to the end," she said.

Although the group has not yet resorted to violent confrontation, "we will arm ourselves if necessary," said Alicia. It may be only a matter of time before they are driven to hire their own gauchos and initiate a violent showdown with the haciendados.