Indigenous Land Rights and Colonial Violence in Belize
By Steve Lemeshko
The recent article “Land, Race, and (Slow) Violence: Indigenous Resistance to Racial Capitalism and the Coloniality of Development in the Caribbean” by Filiberto Penados, Levi Gahman, and Shelda-Jane Smith (2022) investigates the contemporary manifestation of colonial violence through the example of the Maya people in Southern Belize.
Colonial violence—either fast or slow—against Indigenous people, as well as their space, rights, and future, has been observed in many different parts of the world, with the land being usually at the center of such injustice. To continue colonial practices and take advantage of Indigenous peoples, those in power frequently misuse the concept of Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) by acting as if they are being fair and considerate while actually neglecting the need to genuinely consult. For Indigenous peoples, these violations are a form of ongoing theft and harm, which can be described through structural and slow violence. On the one hand, structural violence is often normalized and institutionalized social structures (not necessarily confined to wars, physical-phycological harm, or organized abandonment) that prevent certain groups from reaching their full potential. Slow violence, on the other hand, is a type of gradual, long-term harm inflicted on communities that helps connect the dots between colonialism, resource extraction, environmental degradation, climate change, and community debilitations. Both of those processes lead to other “fast” forms of violence.
At the center of the paper’s discussion is the government-authorized “development” of Maya lands in Toledo District in Southern Belize in the 1990s through timber extraction in violation of FPIC. Even though entering the courts was required to uphold the western-defined concept of “land,” those procedures had little influence on defining the Maya people's complex relationships with land and nature, based on sharing and stewarding the commons. Still, state planning continued threatening their land, their relationship with it, and participatory governance.
When the Maya people appeared in court, they were not being taken seriously: the state called into question their indigeneity and relied upon earlier colonial violence to argue against their land rights. Nevertheless, in 2007, there was a major breakthrough when the Chief Justice of Belize upheld the rights of the Maya people to the land. The decision, however, was only applicable to two Maya communities, so in 2010, clarification that all communities have those rights followed. Court of Appeals in 2013 and then the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ) in 2015 upheld the decision as well. The CCJ ruling was the first ruling of its kind to recognize the rights of Indigenous people to use, occupy, and enjoy the land.
Time, energy, and resources were lost by community organizers and leaders to win the legal battle that lasted for more than 20 years. State-sanctioned “development” and FPIC violations are forms of slow violence that show the colonial mindset. The consequences of extractivist logging without due consultation with Indigenous people have been grim: disruption and pollution of natural ecosystems that support their living physically and culturally have affected both the regional ecosystems and social structures. As the authors put it, “[V]iolations of FPIC are a persistent form of colonial violence—albeit slow—given such violations result in deleterious effects that accrue after a long gestation period and are decided upon behind closed doors, oft-concealed, and come with repercussions that are delayed.” Ultimately, the FPIC violations call into question the state’s commitment to recognizing the rights and lives of Indigenous peoples. This case study is a crucial reminder of the ongoing challenges and the urgent need for systemic change to address historical injustices and prevent further harm.
The full citation of the article is:
Penados, Filiberto, et al. “Land, race, and (slow) violence: Indigenous resistance to racial capitalism and the coloniality of development in the Caribbean,” Geoforum, vol. 145, 2023, doi:10.1016/j.geoforum.2022.07.004.
For further reading on slow violence, see the following articles:
Documenting Coal Mining in Jharia, India, through Photography / May 5, 2024
Understanding Habituation: Why We Overlook Horrors / March 27, 2024
Using Islander Stories to Discuss Sea-Level Rise / May 25, 2023