I wrote this following a trip
paid for by BP. It was commissioned but not published by The Independent
early in 1998
Colombian dilemmas
One Friday last June, Pepe and Javier Daza were shot dead by men
from the ELN (National Liberation) guerrilla army which plagues
the wildly lovely Casanare province of north east Colombia. It's
a region where savannah meets the foothills of the Andes. Once famous
only for cattlemen and backwardness, it is now the site of the biggest
recent discovery of oil in Latin America.
The find has attracted the British oil giant BP to one of the most
violent societies on earth. Any firm which wanted to keep its hands
scrupulously clean would have stayed away from here. Luckily, BP
is run by pragmatists who can see that such virtue would do little
for the locals, or any decent Colombians. Getting on for $4,000
per head a year is flowing into the region's government from oil
revenues, a local supplement to the shareout of the 85% of the petrol
dollar that goes into the public purse of this poor country. The
tithe will soon deliver twice as much.
According to Olavio Lopez, the Roman Catholic bishop of Casanare,
Pepe had been talking to people from BP, which operates the field
for a consortium, the biggest member of which is the Colombian state
oil company, Ecopetrol. He had sought BP's help in building a bridge
across a river whose waters had claimed a family member by drowning.
Pepe was a small example of a vast new activity in Casanare. Armies
of people are trying to get a piece of the oil action, whether it's
a new school, or a new bridge. Indeed, some erstwhile anti-oil protestors
are beginning cautiously to praise BP as the firm develops a canny
but touchy-feely policy toward the locals. Quite a few former critics
are also enjoying the fruits of contracts with oil firms.
The increasing amiability between the company and locals may have
caused the guerrillas to raise the stakes in demonising oil. Having
shot the two men, the terrorists, who use a revolutionary rhetoric
when it suits them, rounded up the people of Nunchia, the local
town, and told them that talking with the oil companies would henceforth
be regarded as collaboration with the enemy, whose installations
and workers had already been declared a military target.
As it defends itself against terrorism, BP is also a target for
British journalists. Three weeks after the killings, ITV's World
In Action screened a programme which retailed a long-standing campaign
against BP's Colombian operations by its author, Michael Gillard.
The programme alleged that BP's security arrangements involved overly
close co-operation with Colombia's security forces, and especially
criticised its use of Defence Systems Colombia (DSC), an offshoot
of Defence Systems Ltd, an outfit started by ex-SAS officers.
A Labour MEP, Richard Howitt, had also been campaigning against
BP and reported in 1996 that he had "received compelling evidence
that the Colombian military is involved in serious illegal activities
in Casanare, with what can be argued to be acquiescence by BP...".
Many of the allegations made against BP, even those like Mr Howitt's
which combine righteous indignation with circumspection, flow from
a 1995 report into the region by a Human Rights Commission established
by the Colombian government. It included two non-governmental rights
organisations which are variously described as well-respected or
as guerrilla fronts. In Colombia, it is not impossible to be a bit
of both.
Belying the weight attached to it by BP's British critics, the
report makes only one serious direct claim against the oil companies.
It says they passed film of community protestors to the army, which
used it for its intelligence purposes. The inference drawn is that
BP helped the army target victims for its illegal activities. BP
insists that the filming was done with the knowledge of participants
at local negotiations, and videos had to be made as part of its
case to the environmental authorities that consultations were in
hand. It bitterly rejects suggestions that it passed the material
to the army.
The report makes various environmental claims. It says BP started
operations in a mountain reserve, La Tablona. "We believed
that the reserve had been redefined and did some limited seismic
work in it," admitted Phil Mead, BP's boss in Casanare until
a recent move. "We do believe there is oil on farmland there
and are negotiating about tripling the park's area elsewhere if
we succeed in making a case about extraction". Anywhere they
are working in the region, BP are planting more trees than they
damage and are bringing high standards to water treatment and road
engineering. "The local regulators are keen and strict: they
are often American educated, and rearing to go", said one seasoned
BP health, safety and environment specialist. No other industry
could bring a fraction of this wealth with as little local disruption.
The human rights report's most serious value, accepted by BP, is
in airing difficult issues. Amongst them, it lists claimed atrocities
and lesser violations by the army against people opposed to the
oil development. Doubtless, people do get brought in for questioning,
and some army people probably believe that protestors are as likely
to sympathise with anti-oil terrorists as the next Casanarenas.
They may feel they must start somewhere. There have been, according
to Will Daniell, the head of DSC, "over twenty oil company
contractors killed in recent years. Six police, the guys who protect
the perimeter of oil installations, have been killed in the past
year or 18 months". Kidnapping is routine, and two helicopters
have been hit by bullets. A pilot has been killed. The guerrillas
claim many of these hits and are certainly involved in constant
extortion claims.
Not far short of the same number of local people who could be called
protestors have also died. But the difficulty is that it is less
clear who killed them. According to Enrique Santos-Calderon, the
deputy editor of the El Tiempo broadsheet, there are various violent
forces at work, between them targeting almost anyone who speaks
out.
In Casanare, as anywhere in the country, there are two sorts of
guerrilla. They loathe each other and they have long since descended
into thuggery. There is a rag tag of "paramilitary" forces
which ostensibly look after local communities in response to the
guerrilla threat, but are also maintained by landowners, who are
often drug-rich.
The Policia Nacional is mostly regarded as even-handed, but in
the rural parts of Casanare it is simply absent where it is not
over-stretched. The police commandant, Colonel Humberto Plata, displays
a copy of the "Criminalidad" statistics and says: "Casanare
has one of the lowest rates of crime in the country, and murder
rates are low. Of course the oil boom has attracted people and that
creates conflict but it is not severe." In the local capital,
Yopal, there is at least one small shanty (not by any means the
worse in the continent, it has electricity) and the centre of town
is devoted to partying though street-fighting is frowned upon as
unmanly. Yopal is hardly the scene of viciousness painted by the
critics.
There is nearly unanimous acceptance that the army is inefficient
and worse. At least some of its officers let the paramilitaries
do its dirty work for it. But there is also a widespread belief
that Casanare's local brigade, devoted to defending infrastructure
from guerrillas and paramilitaries, is amongst the least corrupt.
Its new staff officer, Colonel Gersain Sanchez, commanded the Colombian
division of the UN Multinational Force and Observers in Sinai, and
has a glowing testimony of his tact, maturity and sensitivity from
an Australian major general.
Will Daniell, of DSC, insists that his firm's future depends on
the reverse of a "death squad" reputation, though he admits
that the ex-SAS tag, whilst not substantiated by the proportion
of the Regiment's men on his payroll, is useful: "Image really
does count for a lot in this business", he says. Phil Mead
seemed the sort of person who might make a reputation as an enthusiastic
head of science at a good comprehensive: firm but fair, but not
obviously either flamboyant or Machiavellian. "We need DSC
to tell us how to react to, and how to avoid, guerrilla attack",
he said. "It's as simple as that". Daniell goes a little
further: "We employ ex-army people, both local and British.
When they point out to young police how to make a better defensive
position it's natural they may be listened to. After all, we don't
want them killed either." Mr Daniell says that his team liaises
between the army and BP: clearly someone has to, but the firm vehemently
denies closer involvement.
It is true that BP pays the government for some of its security,
as is confirmed by Rafael Padre, a young ex-minister of defence,
who now masterminds the presidential campaign of Alfonso Valdivieso,
the former Prosecutor General who with great courage challenged
President Ernesto Samper's reliance on drug money during the election
in which he was victorious. Mr Valdivieso's erstwhile office, the
Fiscalia, which had a nominee on the Human Rights Commission, is
a part of the Colombian state which is mostly free of corruption.
BP have successfully campaigned to have the office investigate the
allegations against it. The report is due in March. DSC, keen to
stress its interest in openness, has called for a permanent Fiscalia
office in Yopal.
Mr Pardo, describing events which mostly took place whilst he was
the responsible minister, says: "Early in 1991 there were 300
attacks on bridges and pipelines and other infrastructure. We had
to impose a "War tax" on the big companies, to provide
15,000 men to protect 800 sites we had identified". All major
firms now also pay an additional fee for defence which is needed
because The War Tax hasn't flowed into additional security.
BP's biggest achievement is to be very serious about not paying
off the guerrillas, and in trying to encourage its contractors not
to either. "The guerrillas first became powerful from extortion
of rich foreign companies" says Rafael Pardo. Oil is one of
the few opportunities Colombia has to develop an affluent, legal
economy. Potentially, but by no means necessarily, the oil money
can also help the state's institutions grow in strength and accountability.
In BP, Colombia seems to have found a partner which conducts itself
with what is locally an almost comical probity. Weirdly, the allegations
levelled against it don't really claim otherwise: they certainly
don't suggest a better way for Colombia to give up the drug habit.
|