By Michelle Loubon
Trinidad Express Newspapers | Oct 19, 2013 at 9:27 PM ECT
Those communities that have borne the brunt of the environmental damage are very resentful. They are resentful of the social effects of mining and timber harvesting – especially mining – which include the introduction of large amounts of alcohol, illicit drugs and prostitution camps. These activities take place either within the mining areas or close to the mining areas.
There are cases in which some communities are so resentful of these practices that they have sought legal redress. There are at least three cases that I am aware of where communities have initiated legal action to protect their rights. The success in these cases has been limited primarily because the court process is very slow.
What the communities feel is that their protection is best assured through the granting of full rights including sub—surface rights. This would mean that they would have full ownership of the resources and better control of those resources. Of course access also means that they would benefit from those resources.
James also describes the many ways that the rights of indigenous communities have been severely undermined by natural resource development, and the limited recourse they have under the law, especially as they do not possess rights to that which lies beneath the soil they live on. James calls for a revision of Guyana's Amerindian Act to bring it in line with the government's own endorsement of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples:
There is a need for the Amerindian Act to be amended particularly because in 2007 the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was approved by the General Assembly. That Declaration ought to be the guide for legislative reform in any country. The Amerindian Act was passed before that Declaration was approved but the approval of that Declaration essentially means that those states that have voted for it are saying that they consent to abide by its very lofty principles. Therefore, the Amerindian Act as it stands now falls far short of many of the rights standards that are contained in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
James ends the interview by describing the overall environment of confrontation between indigenous communities and the state. To the extent that earning foreign exchange to help purchase foreign imports continues to be the dominant developmentalist logic in Guyana, I don't think James is wrong in showing a lack of optimism for the future.
"In comparison to the despair sometimes aroused by the African-Indian impasse, the Amerindian presence has been altogether more leavening feature in Guyanese writing. Although, until recently, a socially and politically marginalized minority, the most impoverished and oppressed section of the population, the Amerindians have become both a politically significant broker group, and culturally iconic. Although Amerindian culture has made transforming adaptions to both colonial and missionary pressures, and to the attractions of ‘modernisation’, the Amerindian presence offers all Guyanese, symbolically at least, a sense of indigenous geographic connection and cultural continuities that predate colonialism. These connections are to be found most expressly in Guyanese imaginative writing. The work of Wilson Harris is clearly most influential in this respect, in The Sleepers of Roraima: A Carib Trilogy (Faber, 1970), Age of the Rainmakers (Faber, 1971) Companions of the Day and Night (Faber, 1975), and there are also Jan Carew’s short stories (see ‘The Coming of Amilivaca’) and Pauline Melville’s more representational fiction, The Ventriloquist’s Tale (1997). (So far the only published imaginative literature written by an Amerindian that I know of is David Campbell’s Through Arawak Eyes.) In Andrew Jefferson-Miles Harrisian The Timehrian, two Amerindian mythical figures play a key role in the narrative: the God Amalivacar who rescues the narrator from the trauma of being stricken dumb, and the vision of the timehr, the painted child of Amerindian legend, who prompts the narrator to the need to tell his story and recover the world of those by-passed by history. In Denise Harris’s In Remembrance of Her, Amerindian images play a similarly iconic role."