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Citing the government’s failure to obtain free, informed, and prior consent to use Rama-Kriol lands as part of the canal construction before passing the concession law, Acosta filed a complaint with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) in June 2014. The following December, she asked the IACHR for precautionary measures, which would prevent work from proceeding on the canal until the Rama had been properly consulted. The IACHR is a part of the Organization of American States and hears complaints about human rights abuses from around the Americas.
In March, Acosta, McCray, and five other canal opponents traveled to Washington, DC, for the IACHR hearing. McCray represented the six indigenous groups whose territory is affected by the canal route; the others spoke about canal-related environmental impacts, police repression of protesters, and other human-rights violations. McCray was nervous as she read her remarks in Spanish. She cited three articles in the concession law that explicitly give the Canal Commission the right to expropriate indigenous land, and then she accused the government of violating international norms in the way it conducted community consultations, perhaps most blatantly by paying villagers—many of whom are illiterate—to come to the meetings. (Those villagers, Acosta claims, were then pressured into signing documents that they could not understand.)
Thomas Antkowiak, a law professor at Seattle University and a specialist in the Inter-American human-rights system, believes the Rama’s case against the canal is, under international and even Nicaraguan law, ironclad. But that doesn’t mean the IACHR will halt canal construction, which officially began in December 2014 on the Pacific coast, or order that the concession law be changed or overturned. Like other international organizations, the IACHR depends on its member states. In lower-profile cases, Antkowiak says, member states usually abide by the commission’s decisions. However, when international law conflicts with a high-profile project, it’s more complicated.
In the case of Belo Monte, a major hydroelectric dam in Brazil’s Amazon, indigenous leaders filed a complaint in front of the IACHR in 2010, and in 2011 the commission found in their favor, ordering the Brazilian government to stop all construction on the dam until the indigenous communities had been properly consulted. The Brazilian government announced that it would ignore the ruling and subsequently broke off its relationship with both the commission and the Organization of American States. The IACHR then backtracked, saying in a statement that the indigenous leaders’ complaints were not really about the lack of consultation but about whether or not the dam should be constructed at all. The commission removed its requirement that the government consult with the indigenous groups.
In the Nicaragua Canal case, the IACHR issued a summary of the March proceedings in late June, which included a confirmation that the commission had asked the Nicaraguan government for proof that they adequately consulted with the Rama and studied the environmental impacts. In Acosta’s view, this is a step in the right direction. “It’s the first time someone is demanding that the government provide information,” she says. “None of the [other] international organizations or regulators have done so yet.”
The deadline for Nicaragua to respond to the request is confidential and is released neither to the press nor to the petitioners. As of publication, neither the Nicaraguan representatives nor the IACHR will comment on where the case stands. When it’s issued, the actual reply from the Nicaraguan government—which the IACHR will base its recommendations on—will also be confidential. If the government fails to respond or ignores the recommendations, the commission can recommend that the case proceed to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, based in San José, Costa Rica. The court’s rulings are legally binding for the 25 states that have accepted its jurisdiction—which includes Nicaragua.
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In March, Acosta, McCray, and five other canal opponents traveled to Washington, DC, for the IACHR hearing. McCray represented the six indigenous groups whose territory is affected by the canal route; the others spoke about canal-related environmental impacts, police repression of protesters, and other human-rights violations. McCray was nervous as she read her remarks in Spanish. She cited three articles in the concession law that explicitly give the Canal Commission the right to expropriate indigenous land, and then she accused the government of violating international norms in the way it conducted community consultations, perhaps most blatantly by paying villagers—many of whom are illiterate—to come to the meetings. (Those villagers, Acosta claims, were then pressured into signing documents that they could not understand.)
Thomas Antkowiak, a law professor at Seattle University and a specialist in the Inter-American human-rights system, believes the Rama’s case against the canal is, under international and even Nicaraguan law, ironclad. But that doesn’t mean the IACHR will halt canal construction, which officially began in December 2014 on the Pacific coast, or order that the concession law be changed or overturned. Like other international organizations, the IACHR depends on its member states. In lower-profile cases, Antkowiak says, member states usually abide by the commission’s decisions. However, when international law conflicts with a high-profile project, it’s more complicated.
In the case of Belo Monte, a major hydroelectric dam in Brazil’s Amazon, indigenous leaders filed a complaint in front of the IACHR in 2010, and in 2011 the commission found in their favor, ordering the Brazilian government to stop all construction on the dam until the indigenous communities had been properly consulted. The Brazilian government announced that it would ignore the ruling and subsequently broke off its relationship with both the commission and the Organization of American States. The IACHR then backtracked, saying in a statement that the indigenous leaders’ complaints were not really about the lack of consultation but about whether or not the dam should be constructed at all. The commission removed its requirement that the government consult with the indigenous groups.
In the Nicaragua Canal case, the IACHR issued a summary of the March proceedings in late June, which included a confirmation that the commission had asked the Nicaraguan government for proof that they adequately consulted with the Rama and studied the environmental impacts. In Acosta’s view, this is a step in the right direction. “It’s the first time someone is demanding that the government provide information,” she says. “None of the [other] international organizations or regulators have done so yet.”
The deadline for Nicaragua to respond to the request is confidential and is released neither to the press nor to the petitioners. As of publication, neither the Nicaraguan representatives nor the IACHR will comment on where the case stands. When it’s issued, the actual reply from the Nicaraguan government—which the IACHR will base its recommendations on—will also be confidential. If the government fails to respond or ignores the recommendations, the commission can recommend that the case proceed to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, based in San José, Costa Rica. The court’s rulings are legally binding for the 25 states that have accepted its jurisdiction—which includes Nicaragua.
Read more: History, Travel, Arts, Science, People, Places | Smithsonian
Give the gift of Smithsonian magazine for only $12! Give the gift of Smithsonian
Follow us: @SmithsonianMag on Twitter
I think this one is going to be built.
