Porfirio Lobo greets officials in the Presidential Palace in Tegucigalpa, Honduras
A year after the coup d’état that removed Honduran president Manuel Zelaya from office, there are two forceful and opposing currents pulsing through Honduran society. The first is uplifting and promising: long-underrepresented groups who influenced Zelaya to begin a process towards constitutional reform, the most immediate cause of the coup, have consolidated and invigorated their demand for change. The second current conjures frightening images of a not-so-distant past in Latin America: the new government has responded with violent repression of opposition voices and has boldly carried on its mission to return Honduras, quite literally, to business as usual.
So far, the government has arrogantly dismissed the opposition, but the shouts of disapproval are growing ever louder. After months of political deadlock, during which Zelaya sneaked back into the country but remained under constant siege in the Brazilian embassy, the de facto government proceeded with the scheduled presidential elections in November. A wealthy rancher, Porfirio Lobo, won an election that was banned by virtually every major international observing body, and which the most popular opposition candidates boycotted.
On 26th January, the day before Lobo was inaugurated, the Supreme Court cleared six military commanders, including two graduates of the infamous School of the Americas, of charges related to their forceful removal of Zelaya. The Congress handed out amnesty to both those involved in the coup and Zelaya, who had previously been charged with treason. Dispute ended, problems solved—not quite.
The coup was carried out on 28th June, the day that Zelaya had planned to administer a non-binding referendum, or “public consultation”, on whether to have a vote on electing an assembly to rewrite the constitution—which would have then also been subject to a vote by the entire electorate. The current constitution, of which many liberties were suspended by the de facto government, was created under a previous military government in 1982.
On June 29, 2009, people took to the streets of Tegucigalpa to protest the prior day’s coup.
The day following the coup, 29th June, a diverse collection of organizations integrated to form the National Front of Popular Resistance (FNRP). Not only were they united in opposing the de facto government, but even more so by their resilience to continue the momentum towards recasting the constitution. The FNRP is composed of labour unions, students, teachers, campesion organizations, LGBT groups, women’s rights groups, intellectuals, indigenous groups and afro-Hondurans. Some of these groups had been influential in pushing Zelaya to call for the vote on the constituent assembly, but others were finding their political voices for the first time.
Berta Oliva, the head of one of the oldest and most respected human rights groups in Honduras, the Committee for the Families of the Detained and Disappeared in Honduras (COFADEH), is enthusiastic about the political awakening: “This was a phenomenon never before seen in Honduras, the people took on an impressive awareness, they became passionate about their right to participate, their right to decide.”
The FNRP has been organizing regular non-violent protests and numerous marches of over 500,000 people. While the political drama surrounding Zelaya’s return and reinstatement unfolded they remained focused on the goal of convoking a national constitutional assembly. In pursuing this aim, they have put together a petition and started a massive signature gathering campaign. They are expecting to collect at least 2 million signatures, more than half of the adult population of the country, and twice as many votes for Porfirio “Pepe” Lobo received in the questionable November presidential vote.
A typical house from a village, Juticalpa, Honduras, showing simple construction.
Above all else, the members of the FNRP are demanding a more representative and just constitution. The country is one of the poorest in Latin America. The World Bank’s 2004 Development Indicators Report lists 50.7% of the population as living under the poverty line. The estimates are said to be even higher today, especially for those living in extreme poverty. As in many countries with such rampant poverty, power in Honduras is incredibly centralized. The same World Bank report states that 59.4% of the country’s total income is earned by the richest 20% of the population. The poorest 20% earn just 2.2%.
Zelaya, from the elite ruling-class himself, had taken an unexpected turn towards ameliorating this inequality. In January of 2009, in a move that infuriated powerful business interests, he raised the minimum wage 60%. The wage had not been adjusted to current costs of living in years, and though the increase was dramatic—his aids warned him that it would likely cost him his job—according to the government’s calculations, the increased wage still barely covered 90% of basic food needs and only a third of living expenses such as rent, transportation and medical care.
The change was too much for the Honduran elites to stomach. Armando Licona, a representative of the university student chapter of the FNRP, explains, “unfortunately, our country is controlled by the private business interests of the dominant groups in power who do not want changes that benefit the Honduran people.”
These private business interests, as Licona pointed out, enjoy an excessive amount of influence over the governmental institutions of Honduras: the congress, the courts and the military. In describing the courts, who authorized the congress’s order for Zelaya’s removal, the 2008 US State Department’s Human Rights Report on Honduras said: “Although the constitution and the law provide for an independent judiciary, the judicial system was poorly funded and staffed, inadequately equipped, often ineffective, and subject to patronage, corruption, and political influence.”
Honduras riot police with gas masks and tear gas guns at the ready for crowd control.
Over the last year, these powerful forces have demonstrated their willingness to employ state terror in order to secure their grip on power in Honduras. The FNRP’s astute decision to adopt a non-violent opposition has highlighted the new government’s retrograde use of violent suppression. Honduran human rights groups have been vigilantly documenting the abuses carried out by authorities, including the military, police and newly formed paramilitary groups.
Peaceful demonstrations are bombarded with suffocating volumes of tear gas. Authorities regularly enter crowds of demonstrators and beat them with batons. COFADEH reports that more than 3,000 people have been illegally detained since the coup—most have been beaten, tortured and scores of women have been raped. The group reports that at least forty-one Hondurans associated with the resistance have been killed.
Both Amnesty International and the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR), a division of the Organization of American States (OAS), have released strong condemnatory reports confirming the human rights violations under the de facto government. The IACHR lists a catalogue of offences, including “deaths, arbitrary declaration of states of emergency, suppression of public demonstrations through disproportionate use of force, criminalization of public protest, arbitrary detentions of thousands of persons, cruel inhuman and degrading treatment and grossly inadequate conditions of detention, militarization of Honduran territory, a surge in the incidents of racial discrimination, violations of women’s rights, serious and arbitrary restrictions on the right to freedom of expression, and grave violations of political rights.”
Journalists critical of the coup have been intensely targeted. During the first few days following the coup, almost all radio and tv transmissions were blocked, except for a small handful that played pro-coup propaganda around the clock. Of the dissenting voices, Radio Globo in the capital, Tegucigalpa, and Radio Progresso in the north have been particularly instrumental in reporting on abuses by the authorities and providing organizing platforms for the FNRP.
In September, Radio Globo was shut down by the de facto government, but it has carried on with it’s programming online, running out of a private residence. Radio Progresso director Padre Melo says that the station receives bomb threats almost everyday.
During March and April, a string of dissident journalists were murdered—seven in all. Most were killed in the same way: while driving, they were ambushed and sprayed with upwards of 30 bullets. Unsurprisingly, there have been no arrests in any of the murder investigations.
Other journalists have seen their family members killed or disappeared. The Lobo administration has tried to deflect attention from the violence against journalists, explaining it as part of the day-to-day crime of Honduras, which even before the coup had one of the hemisphere’s highest murder rates.
The government’s refusal to acknowledge the political nature of the violence against journalists is part of their weak, or unconcerned, effort to pull a mask of normalcy over the political upheaval in the country. To an extent, this has been a successful policy. After Lobo’s election the US, by far Honduras’s biggest trade partner, restored full military and humanitarian aid.
While a handful of governments followed the US lead, including some Central American neighbours and the EU, many have refused to restore relations with Honduras. The OAS has been particularly firm in it’s refusal to acknowledge the Lobo administration despite the US State Department’s wishes. In June, at the OAS General Assembly meeting, Hilary Clinton urged the organization to readmit Honduras, stating that the Lobo administration had, “shown a strong commitment to democracy and order.”
Part of the Lobo administration’s “strong commitment to democracy” has been the establishment of a Truth Commission, which was initially called for as part of the failed reconciliation process between Zelaya and the de facto government. Truth commissions have been used to ease the transition following repressive regimes in such countries as El Salvador, Argentina and South Africa—but only after the regime had stepped down and the worst of the violence had ended.
“A truth commission can help to strengthen a transition to democracy if its mandate, operation and methodology respect the victims whose rights were violated,” said International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ) president David Tolbert. “Unfortunately, in Honduras the decision to establish the commission seems to have more to do with a hasty desire to turn the page, rather than clarifying last year’s disruption of democracy and the serious crimes that took place.”
Berta Oliva said that neither COFADEH nor any of the other major human rights groups in Honduras had yet to be contacted regarding the Lobo administration’s truth commission. But Instead of sitting around waiting for an invitation to participate in the government’s commission, COFADEH and five other leading human rights groups, who have joined forces as the Platform for Human Rights, have formed their own “True Truth Commission”. The commission, which will include two Nobel Peace Prize winners: Adolfo Pérez Esquivel of Argentina, and Rigoberta Menchú of Guatemala, is scheduled to begin work on 28th June, the year anniversary of the coup, and complete a report a year later.
The Platform’s “True Truth Commission” along with the FNRP’s continuing demonstrations will cause significant obstacles to the government’s efforts to neatly move on from the democratic breakdown of a year ago. Looking ahead, the oppositional movements are keeping the initial goal of constitutional reform constantly in sight. Berta Oliva said of the work still to be done: “I believe that when there has been such a break of constitutional order as there has been in Honduras, the next step is to have a new constitution for the republic–a new social contract. There must be a constituent assembly to fairly allow all sectors to converge: right, left and center.”