Rescuing a River from Ruin

The eyes of the world are on Temacapulin. So declared a banner at an anti-dam rally. Solidarity is probably the single best hope for the 500 residents of this sleepy Mexican town on the brink of being submerged.

It’s a battle of David and Goliath proportions. Father Gabriel, the local priest, tweaked the final words of the Lord’s Prayer, urging, “Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from dams. Amen”.

This was Rivers for Life 3, a global gathering of river protectors. I attended as a stringer for American Jewish World Service, which helped fly in representatives from other dam-affected communities from the Thai-Burmese border to Kenya.

Managing our water commons thoughtfully in an age of growing energy demand and climate change is a considerable challenge, especially when the World Bank ignores the advice in its own study to wean ourselves off large dams. That study by the World Commission on Dams finds large dams inconsistent with environmental and human rights standards. A global movement, including activists from OTC’s Our Water Commons, continue to press to rein in the dam industry, invest in truly green solutions and apply common sense principles for how we manage our water.

And so, on the fourth day of the gathering, hundreds of people – townsfolk and national and international activists – marched down hot and dusty switchbacks, past bulldozers, deeper and deeper into a narrowing canyon to the place where the river is to be held back by a mammoth cement wall, a dam called El Zapotillo.

In spite of the rousing chants and flags vigorously waved from many of the 62 countries represented at the forum, I imagine others shared a sickening feeling when we first saw the massive chutes built to channel water into hydroelectric turbines. Even the model homes for a relocation village are already partially built. Can the commons be defended in the face of this huge corporate investment?

Everyone agreed with Father Gabriel that the march to the dam must be non-violent. Yet some seemed unable to stop themselves from giving a swift kick to a construction cone. The previous day, frustrated and increasingly desperate leaders nearly succeeded in getting forum participants to put aside the agenda and occupy the site.

“I just wish that instead of ignoring us, the politicians and water commission would come here and tell us to our face: You know why we can do this to you? Because you’re stinking peasants and you’re not worth shit,” announced one marcher.

“Shhhh,” whispered a woman in a beehive hairdo who I can only guess wasn’t an activist until the dam loomed. “We know there are spies here.”

“Let them hear us!!” others answered. “Let them see that we won’t stop until they stop building the dam.”

A lawyer from Amnesty International gathered testimony to build an international human rights case. Father Gabriel said, “We may be a small town, but our dignity is great.”

Putting aside a spontaneous march for more deliberate action, the community sat together for an entire day to ensure that any action taken might be part of a longer-term strategy. This day’s symbolic act was meant as a healing caress to the scarred canyon walls and strangled river, as well as to buoy the energy and commitment of those townspeople – the ones who will have to struggle on long after the solidarity activists return to their countries.

Temacapulin’s cobblestone streets are lined with whitewashed adobe houses, a stunning rose-rock18th century church, and neighbors chatting from their stoops and doorways. You can’t help but take a deep breath and let time and worries go – even though that peacefulness is splintered by the sound of earth-moving machinery. Christ’s image is etched into a cliff (sadly I couldn’t make it out, which apparently is an unlucky portent) and more than 20 hot springs percolate up from the earth.