Tweny-four Years an Environmental Activist

Carlos Zorrilla
Every so often, I get asked various versions of the following question: How does it feel to
be an environmental activist? They are referring to my environmental activism in which I've
participated for the past 24 years, protecting Intag's forests, rivers, and its biodiversity. The
answer varies according to the state of mind I happen to find myself at the moment. It is
also surprisingly complex, due to to the many spheres of life affected by my activism.
A bit of background is in order. For the past 40 years, I've made the cloud forests of this part
of Ecuador my home. During 24 of those years, I've been completely immersed in a
campaign to stop the development of a large-scale copper mine which, according to experts
in the field, would devastate our area's forests, rivers and biodiverisity, and cause major
social havoc. The government sees it as indispensable to fuel economic growth.
This is not some far-off environmental conflict in which my involvement might consists of
writing letters of support every once in a while, or sending $100 checks once or twice a
year, but a conflict happening less than 20 kilometers away, and deeply affecting friends and
neighbors; and with the potential of destroying one of the world's true biological jewels, and
the larger social and biological community which I feel to be an integral part of.

The Multiple Costs of Activism

The part of my life most impacted is life itself. That is, the time I have to set aside to fight
the transnational mining companies and the government's intent on imposing the mine at all
costs. I am talking about thousands of hours devoted to raising money, denouncing to local,
national and international entities, maintaining web and social media sites, preparing and
giving hundreds of talks, hiring and dealing with lawyers, meetings with local communities
and organizations. The time wasted on meeting with officials that I know will almost
certainly be futile.
The list of personal impacts is very long, specially for activists such as myself who feel to
be inextricable part of a land and people threatened by this project. This is time which I
could have devoted to other important pursuits; including the most important of all,
parenting, but also writing, photographing, farming, visiting with friends and family, and
building an economically secure future. You'd be shocked to discoverer how little income
activists make from their activism. Many don't make any money at all. In other words, we
do not do what we do for the money. For many, their lives are so intricately connected to the
land that activism is a survival response. Not responding is the equivalent of accepting a
premature death sentence.

Inner
The inner impacts are very harsh and hard to describe, but include a great sense of loss.
Loss of opportunity to follow one's dreams, to develop one's latent talent. A very difficult
aspect of most activism is dealing with the feeling of despair that at times overwhelms us
when reflecting on exactly who and what we are up against. This, in spite of the fact that
our activism in Intag has twarted two previous attempt by transnational mining companies
of developing the mining project. One of the hardest thing for me has been seeing up close
the raw greed that the promise of personal economic wealth evokes. The greed that firmly
positions personal well-being above national interests and all other types of collective and
pesonal wealth, including community well-being, as well as cultural, social and
environmental wealth.
This type of work is also very dangerous. In 2017, for example, 197 land and environmental
activists were killed as a consequence of their activism. Most of the murders took place in
Latin America. This is only the number officially reported. I have little doubt that the
number is much, much higher. I too have found myself on the crosshairs of both
transnational mining companies as well as the Ecuadorian government. Death threats are
part of baggage that comes with our line of work. It's a established strategy to try to
intimidate the resistance into silence. On one occassion my family and I had to sleep out in
the nearby forest overnight due to a credible death threat; one of many I've received. On a
much more memorable occassion I had to be on the run from Ecuadorian “justice” for over
a month as a consequence of a made up judicial set up, which included a dawn raid by 19
heavily armed police on my home. The Canadian mining company that paid for the set up
meant to land me in jail and then pay someone there to kill me, according to a company
insider. I was saved from that outcome by a call from one of my neighbors about a minute
before the police stormed my home. That raid, and the time spent on the run, took place
twelve years ago, yet it left a long-lasting scars still affecting me today, including an
inability to sleep the whole night through. Then, seven years later, Rafael Correa, then
president of Ecuador, flashed my image in a national televised address to the nation and
accused me of wanting to desstabilize his government. He then asked millions of
Ecuadorians watching to “react”. The still hard-to-believe slanderous accusations stemmed
from a manual I wrote with other colleagues, informing communities of typical straegies
used by mining companies and ways to counter them peacefully. The accusations were
enough of a concern that Amnesty International launched a campaign to safeguard my life.

Endless Activism?
Our activism in Intag is different to many others in the sense that many activism is
undertaken for a specific time and goal: to pass a certain law, for example. Once that goal is
achieved, you celebrate and can allow yourself the luxury of feeling a sense of final
accomplishment; of closure. Our activism, on the other hand, has been active and intense
for 24 years, and there's no end in site. This, in spite of having driven out two transnational
mining companies from our land. But the copper under these biodiverse hills doesn´t
disappear with our victories, and neither does the company's or government's greed and
shortsightedness. Thus, we are currently facing the third intent by the present government
and very powerful corporations to develop the mining project in the midst of Intag's Intag's
primary forests and pristine rivers and streams, and with the same predicted outcome of
displacing hundreds of families from several communities. Unlike previous attempts, this
time the project is fully backed by the whole machinations of the Ecuadorian State; a
scenario in which institutions meant to safeguard human and the rights of nature, are
complicit in covering up blatant violations.
In spite of the power and greed of our adversaries and personal hardships of all of us
involved in this struggle, have no intention of giving up. This is our land; our future. So far,
the people of Intag have kept what would have been the first large-scale metal mine in
Ecuador from opening for the last 24 years. Ours is but one of several struggles for life
and for human rights raging on in this multi-cultural and biodiverse country.

Outer
A good part of the outcomes in places like Intag depends on what goes on outside our
territories; from the wasteful consumption of materials- especially by the citizens of rich
nations- to international trade agreements, which pressure countries to open themselves up
for pillaging. Thus for us to continue, it is essential to keep counting on the international
support we've received from organizations and individuals. That support not only has made
it possible to successfully confront the mining project, but also has helped DECOIN, the
organization I work for, conserve approximately 13,000 hectares of primary and secondary
forest harboring hundreds of threatened and endangered species. Since withtout education
conservation is just so much talk, the support has also led to substancially raising the area's
environmental awareness. Importantly, the support has also made it possible for us to create
a model of conservation and economic development to counter the devastating models now
taking apart Earth's life-support systems. If there is one outstanding silver lining to this very
dark cloud we've faced for nearly a generation, it is that our success has inspired many other
communities in Ecuador and other parts of the world to stand up for their rights, and to find
ways to conserve their land.
This the flower that has come from so much hardship endured by so many of us, and which
I believe will continue to bear fruit long after we are gone.