Our delegation’s final report, which I will be translating into Spanish shortly….
7th International Witness Delegation to Honduras
19 – 26 September, 2009
On Monday, September 21, 2009, this delegation was en route to points North and West of Tegucigalpa on the first day of a planned three-day period outside the capital. Halfway to San Pedro Sula, a Honduran among us received a call from a friend who said that President Manuel Zelaya had returned to Honduras and was inside the UN building. We turned around and headed back to Tegucigalpa, where we spent the next handful of days trying to respond to the unfolding political drama and its impacts on Hondurans. What follows is a summary of the information and impressions we collected.
Political Update
Indeed, forcibly removed President Manuel Zelaya had returned to Honduras clandestinely, but had made his surprise appearance in the Brazilian Embassy, not the UN building. As word of his return spread like wildfire through the country, thousands upon thousands of people gathered in front of the embassy to greet him. Cheering, singing, chanting, and
waving flags, the crowd was confident, relieved, jubilant. Trucks crawled through the dense gathering to hand out water; people standing in the strong sun cheerfully sprayed each other. Young men sat in the branches of every sturdy tree in sight, hoping for views over the embassy wall. When Zelaya appeared, the crowd exploded in cheers, then began to sing the national anthem. Inside the embassy walls, Zelaya stood with his hand on his heart.
Early that afternoon, the coup regime that had taken control by force on June 28th denied Zelaya’s presence in the country, claiming that it was really an actor from a television satire. When denial was no longer possible, the de facto government called for calm, claiming that Zelaya’s return would have no impact on the administration. Meanwhile, members of Zelaya’s cabinet and some leaders of the anti-coup resistance were allowed into the Brazilian
embassy to be with the elected president. Over the following days the coup regime held tighter to its illegitimate power, remaining unwilling to negotiate and increasingly relying on police and military forces to repress and terrorize the Honduran people on the streets and in their homes. The de facto government also violated international law in its treatment of those inside the Brazilian embassy, withholding food and water, using noise terrorism, and releasing a toxic nerve gas into the building.
After an attempt to dialogue, Manuel Zelaya declared the coup regime insincere in its negotiations, and seems to be holding out for his unconditional return as the elected president of Honduras. The international community is nearly unanimous in its support for such an unconditional return; Latin American heads of state in particular are extremely
concerned for the precedent set by this Honduran coup. The U.N., as well as individual nations, have withdrawn their support and recognition for the Honduran elections coming up in November under the coup regime, as popular groups in Honduras have declared that they would boycott any elections held by the current administration. Even the IMF has
declared the Zelaya administration the only legitimate receptor of its funds.
United States President Barack Obama did not mention Honduras in his address to the United Nations General Assembly this week, and only the United States has left its ambassador in Honduras. The U.S. State Department has not declared the Honduran coup a military coup under its Foreign Service Law 7008, and the rhetoric of Secretary of State
Hillary Clinton has been weak at best.
The United States’ position is to support the Arias negotiations, facilitated by the president of Costa Rica, which would allow for a highly conditioned return of Manuel Zelaya to office. Though the Arias Agreement would let the coup regime off the hook for the crimes it has committed, de facto president Roberto Micheletti has rejected the proposal. Though the US
Ambassador to Honduras, Hugo Llorens, says that he is working hard to pressure the coup regime to accept the Arias Agreement, many Honduras we spoke to firmly believe that the Micheletti government would not be so brazen were it not for the continued support of certain elements within the United States government. Former ambassador John Negroponte is said to have visited Honduras and met with members of the political/business/military elite weeks before the coup.
Throughout the remainder of our time in Honduras, Zelaya and some members of his administration/supporters remained inside the Brazilian Embassy with the clear support of the Brazilian government: Any democratic government would do the same, said president Lula. The coup regime military cordoned off a six-block radius around the embassy with a
solid line of soldiers. These presences – Zelaya in the embassy, soldiers out of their barracks – are the immediate context for what we saw and heard in the streets of Tegucigalpa throughout the week.
Repression and Terror
The coup government illegally implemented a nationwide curfew at 4pm the afternoon of Zelaya’s appearance, the 21st, and left it in place until 10am on the 23rd – only to reinstate it again at 4pm the same day. Police and military patrolled the streets to enforce it. During that long 42-hour stretch of curfew, people were essentially trapped in their homes, unable to work. For the majority of Hondurans, who are poor, this house-arrest had devastating
consequences, as most survive by working every day and eating with what they earn. People called into television and radio stations to report that they had no food in their homes, and that the water had been cut off in certain neighborhoods. One woman reported that her diabetic mother had run out of insulin and had no way to get more. Though it may have weakened them physically, many people who may not have been otherwise very outspoken
denounced the curfew and the regime that had implemented it.
Other anti-coup resisters bravely defied the curfew on many occasions, starting with the night of Zelaya’s appearance at the Brazilian Embassy. A crowd of people camped out in the street in front of the embassy that night, determined to show their support for his return, and to keep an eye out for his safety. The vigil was an all-night celebration surrounded by police forces, who didn’t act until early morning. At about 5:30am on the 22nd, police
attacked the peaceful gathering with tear gas and their batons. People tried to flee, leaving behind shoes and purses, and many were detained by the police after being beaten with batons. As people fled, some neighbors opened up their homes to offer refuge. Later the police would go door to door to search them out for detainment.
The attack on the embassy is just one example of violent repression of peaceful gatherings that has frequently occurred in post-coup Honduras. The repression of nonviolent protest with tear/pepper gas, batons, and bullets; the detainment of protesters; and in some cases the criminal charges (sedition, terrorism, illicit protesting) against those gathered reflect an
increasing criminalization of social protest. Because of the all-day curfew imposed on the 22nd, leaders of the organized resistance who announce the place and time of daily marches and protests (there has been an act of public
resistance every day in Tegucigalpa since the coup) called upon resisters to organize protests in their neighborhoods. All over the city that night, people stepped out their front doors to join their neighbors in the street, singing and chanting, blowing whistles, sometimes lighting tires on fire. In some areas, the police cracked down strongly on these neighborhood protests, again with tear/pepper gas, batons, and bullets. We took the testimony of people
with terrible baton markings, and heard of hundreds detained. On the 22nd, police used the Chochi Sosa baseball stadium to hold the detained, and one small police precinct that two members of our group visited on the 24th had held 137 people between the hours of midnight and 6am. Even the police logbook noted some had been beaten. Despite the strong repression, people continued to protest in their neighborhoods after dark.
ONE FAMILY’S STORY FROM THE EMBASSY ATTACK
A 43 year-old man dressed in neat gray slacks and a button-down shirt told us that he had attended the afternoon celebration of Zelaya’s return at the Brazilian Embassy with his wife and his six year-old daughter. Once the curfew was implemented, they decided to stay the night with the crowd, thinking it would be safer than getting caught violating curfew on the way home. He spent part of the night resting stretched out on his back with his daughter curled up on his chest. When the police attacked, the family fled.
They ran to an upscale hotel, the Maya, where they stopped out on the front patio, thinking they could go into the lobby if the police pursued them. The police did pursue them, but as the family turned to enter the building, one of the security guards blocked the door with his baton and told the police that they were not guests at the hotel. The police ordered the family to leave. Moving to obey, the man turned his back to the police to pick up his daughter. With his daughter’s head resting on his left shoulder, a policeman beat the man’s right shoulder with his baton. Three days later, the mark of
the baton on his skin still showed deep red. He told us that his daughter now tells him that the police are bad because they hurt him. He and his wife respond by saying that her parents love her very much
ONE STORY FROM THE NEIGHBORHOODS
Twenty-four year-old Eric was out on the street in his own neighborhood on
Tuesday night, nonviolently demonstrating, when the police attacked. Eric’s back is a web of deep red welts from police batons, and he has one particularly bad bruise – deep purples and reds – on his side torso, below his ribcage. He was hit on the head, too, and has a wound on his knee from falling hard to the pavement. He and a nineteen year-old were detained. At the police station, officers made them lay their hands flat on a chair, then beat their hands with batons. Eric’s were notably swollen, and he had one finger in a home-made splint. Eric and his neighbor were released after a couple hours of this treatment, and only after one of the officers recognized him. The officer had been Eric’s student in a computer course. More than once during the week, members of this delegation accompanied Honduran human rights advocates to detention centers and visited health clinics/hospitals to take
testimonies of those detained and beaten by police and military forces. What we saw there, as well as information we received from Honduran lawyers and human rights advocates, betray a terribly disproportionate use of violence: over and over, again and again, we heard stories of nonviolent protesters being attacked with tear/pepper gas, beaten with iron batons (or, in some cases, batons with nails in the ends), detained for hours, and in many cases
tortured during detainment. There have also been cases of disappearances. Lawyers report that the detained are being moved repeatedly between police posts so that they’re unfindable, and note that this creates ripe conditions for disappearing people. In addition we heard disturbing stories of ex-members of secret battalion 3-16 pointing out leaders of the resistance in the poor neighborhoods to the police. Batallion 3-16 was responsible for more than 200 disappearances and torture of activists during the 1980s. We also heard concern from human rights advocates about the link between Billy Joya, former Batallion 3-16 member and security advisor to coup leader Micheletti, and Colombian paramilitary groups belonging to the AUC.
Throughout it all, access to reliable information remains key to the ability of Hondurans to know what’s happening in their country and respond accordingly. The coup regime has waged a war on independent media – and the people’s right to information — since it forced its way into power, shutting down many of the radio and television stations, and threatening independent journalists. This week they seemed to go after internet sites as well, since the
official site of the National Front of Resistance Against the Coup in Honduras (the Frente), was often corrupted. Dr. Juan Almendares, a torture survivor and well-respected human rights advocate, described what’s happening in Honduras as a sort of intentionally-imposed “wasting syndrome,” in which the Honduran people are worn down, terrified, and deprived while the
coup regime waits out the clock.
The Resistance
The Frente is a loosely-knit umbrella of organized groups, and it has been the heart of the resistance against the coup. Over and over this week, we heard Hondurans comment of the diversity of the Frente: it’s composed of farmers, feminists, artists, trade unionists, lawyers, environmentalists, political parties, indigenous peoples, gays & lesbians, intellectuals, and base Christian communities – to name just those who were organized prior to the coup.
The surge of neighborhood resistance seems to indicate an increase in more autonomous and spontaneous instances of non-compliance with the coup regime, and an increase in the general population’s disgust with the regime.
We heard again and again that the people’s resistance movement represents the possibility for true democracy in Honduras that has implications far beyond the realm of electoral politics. There’s a great surge of energy among the organized grassroots, and an emerging politicization among those unaffiliated until now. The diversity of people coming together in resistance reflect a great diversity of visions of social justice. Each group in the resistance puzzle believes in its right to have a say in the transformation of society for the better. That’s why, while the return of Manuel Zelaya is the first step to the return of constitutionality and rule of law in Honduras, many say that what they’re really struggling for is the constitutional assembly that Zelaya had been prepared to facilitate before June 28th.
The Constituyente
Often, when we asked Hondurans to discuss the coup that took place three months ago, they began their stories way back, with the political and social context of Honduras. They described poverty – Honduras is the second-poorest in the hemisphere, after Haiti. They described a country in which twelve percent of the population controls eighty percent of its wealth, that twelve percent often being descendents of the wealthy oligarchy that has
controlled Honduras since the Spanish conquest five hundred years ago. Dr. Juan Almendares began by simply stating that Honduras is an occupied country – occupied, because of the pervasive presence of U.S. military and corporate presence. They also described the electoral political system as essentially broken, favorable to a few elite, and unable to offer any real hope to most Hondurans. That’s why, for the marginalized majority, the return of Manuel Zelaya to the presidential office is just the beginning. His return would allow for the legitimization of the elections scheduled for November, but grassroots groups hope his return will also lead to a constituyente, a constitutional assembly that they’ve been struggling to realize for years. They hope that different sectors of the population will have a hand in writing a new constitution for Honduras, one that offers more promise to the poor through measures such as land reform with financing and technical assistance for small farmers. So many people we talked to clarified that their resistance to the coup is not just about the return of Manuel Zelaya to
office, but about broad-based social transformation.
The Church
We were unable to keep to our original itinerary to visit Catholic communities in Progresso, San Pedro Sula, and Santa Rosa de Copan. But we did speak with staff members of Caritas who confirmed for us that the early statement by Cardenal Rodriguez in support of the coup had a devastating impact on the credibility of the church and the work of Caritas with the poor and with other social sectors. They mentioned that the archdiocese had made no statements regarding human rights violations that had occurred since the coup, and that no human rights office existed in the archdiocese. We were unable to meet with the Cardenal, who was in Rome, nor were we able to meet
with Bishop Santos, from Santa Rosa. We did, however, receive the statement of Bishop Santos and the diocesan clergy of Santa Rosa de Copan which was issued on September 24, denouncing the coup and the human rights violations that had occurred during the week we were in Honduras.
Inspirations
Throughout the week, this group drew inspiration and encouragement from the Hondurans around us. Members of the Resistance are self-critical. They know that they have much to do to deepen and expand their grassroots organizing so that at every stage there are increasingly more people participating in building a better Honduras. We were inspired by the diversity of the resistance movement, its struggle for social change,
and its commitment to nonviolence. We were inspired by people in neighborhoods like Hato de Enmedio, by their courage and determination to voice their dissent in the face of violent repression. We were inspired by the human rights defenders and lawyers working long hours without pay to document abuses and release the detained. We were inspired by the hope and courage of experienced activists and advocates as well as that of the very young. We were inspired by the ninety days of struggle carried out by Hondurans, who have been out in the streets in nonviolent resistance every single day since the coup on June 28th.
Recommendations (for the short term)
• The United States government should firmly support the unconditional return of elected President Manuel Zelaya to office – U.S. citizens should call the State Department and their congressional representatives to demand so.
• The OAS/Inter American Commission on Human Rights and other international human rights groups should maintain a permanent presence in Honduras until constitutionality is restored
• Honduran medical and legal teams need support from international colleagues
• Non-governmental human rights groups (like COFADEH) need financial support
• Catholics should urge Cardenal Rodriguez to speak out against the military
and police repression of the people, and to call for the unconditional return of President Zelaya to office and the restitution of constitutional order.
One Story About Parents and Children
Four members of this delegation were out during curfew on the 22nd, on their way to the public hospital to take testimonies. Also in the car for the ride was a woman desperate to find her fourteen year-old son, Daniel Davíd, who had been to the protest and was now missing. One delegate in the car called his wife in the United States at the end of the day, to tell her about the missing Daniel Davíd. The couple has two sons, whose names are Daniel and David. They were struck by the chance encounter, and strengthened their resolve to advocate for the Honduran people, for their safety and access to justice. It’s what they would want for their own sons.
Who We Are
This delegation is composed of eight residents of the United States: men and women, young and old, experienced in and relatively new to the world of Central American solidarity work.
Scott Wright, Epica, Pax Christi
Marvin Pinto, Guatemalan Education Action Project (GEAP), Los Angeles
Bill Obrien, Exec. Director of Harriet Tubman Center for Organizing
(www.tubmanorganizing.org in Detroit) and Board Member of Posibilidad “Jim Harney PRESENTE!” (www.posibilidad.org)
Nick Carroll, long time supporter of Quixote Center
Art Kubick, Professor Emeritus, Rivier College, Nashua, NH
Kate DiMercurio, Essence Institute, Lifeworks Community
Patty Adams: Quixote Center Honduras Accompaniment Project
Sydney Frey: Quixote Center Honduras Accompaniment Project
Brazo Golpeado // Beaten Arm
Brazo Golpeado // Beaten Arm
Beaten Leg // Pierna Golpeada
Mano golpeada // Bruised hand
Abrasion on arm // Lesion en el brazo
Back with marks of beating // Espalda golpeada
Severe bruising on back // Golpe fuerte en la espalda
Beaten hand // Mano golpeado
Abrasions on legs from being pushed down // Lesiones en las piernas de haber sido empujado
