After its Sixth Ministerial, the WTO “went home limping, but still on its feet.” The multilateral institution was saved by a thread from a third failure, which would have revealed its inability to reconcile its neoliberal agenda with the mandate for development. This article briefly evaluates the results of the meeting and chronicles Asian farmers' opposition to the WTO, played out in the streets of Hong Kong.
December 13-18, thousands of people converged on Hong Kong for the World Trade Organization's Ministerial meeting. Inside the Convention Center, protected by police lines and provisional fences, the government delegates met. The ministers from developed countries brought with them an agenda to force open markets for their own products and investors. Developing countries with emerging economies, such as Brazil, came to defend primarily the interests of their own internationally linked business sectors that seek greater niches in the globalized economy. Poor countries sought mechanisms of self-defense within an increasingly hostile system of economic integration.
Also inside the building but without access to the talks, NGOs from all over the world gathered to analyze and monitor the negotiations. Many have been playing this role for years, with offices in Geneva where the WTO is headquartered. In some countries, their criticism and alternative proposals have influenced official delegations and their declarations are occasionally picked up by the media to counterbalance the official line.
The NGOs served as a conduit for constantly updated information to the activists on the outside about what was going on inside the negotiations. Taking advantage of Hong Kong's high-tech society, locally adapted cellular phones were the instrument of choice and from there word spread in at least ten different languages among the grassroots movements demonstrating in the streets.
But despite efforts, much of the day-to-day process was a collective guessing game, with a vision of events patched together out of speculations, enigmatic official press conferences, and snips of unofficial information from delegates. In the WTO, negotiations between government representatives take place behind closed doors, often without public knowledge even of who is involved. It is a high-pressure give-and-take game in which the enormous disparity of power and wealth between member countries plays a key role in deciding the substantive issues.
A Crisis Postponed
Outside the official site, a very different scenario unfolded. Large contingents of farmers and fisherfolk gathered from South Korea, Thailand, the Philippines, Japan, Taiwan, Indonesia, and other countries. By their sides marched union members, women, migrants, and NGO affiliates. In the center of Victoria Park, where the alternative organizations had set up their tents to share information, hold workshops, and gather for the protests, an altar was set up with an enormous picture of Lee Kyeong-Hae, the Korean farmer who took his own life during the protests against the WTO in Cancun in 2003. He died carrying a banner reading: “The WTO Kills Farmers.” This year, inspired by his memory, the farmers chant: “Down with the WTO!”
Before talks began, the goal of popular organizations to see another collapse looked viable. The official delegations arrived in Hong Kong without having reached agreements on any of the crucial issues facing the ministerial. The possibility of obtaining major advances during the four-day meeting looked remote. The WTO already had two failures under its belt, when the negotiations collapsed in Seattle (1999) and Cancun (2003). A third failure would have led to an undeniable institutional crisis, which many hope would be an opportunity to fundamentally reassess the structure and direction of the organization.
Then, at the last minute, the Group of 20 led by Brazil and India signed an agreement for the elimination of agricultural export subsidies by the year 2013. The agreement was a major defeat for the G-20 since it had insisted on the elimination of export subsides by 2010 at the latest. More importantly, by signing on to future talks on agricultural market access it ignored demands critical to small rural producers, above all the issue of controlling access to their markets for strategic products.
When the make-it-or-break-it issue of agricultural subsidies was agreed on, the G-20 began lobbying to push their acceptance of texts on services and market access for non-agricultural products—texts that read faithful to the interests of wealthy countries. The final declaration, if vague and incomplete, came out on time on Sunday, December 18 and the round was considered saved. The only countries that officially disagreed with the declaration were Venezuela and Cuba. Despite the fact that the plenary meeting was carefully designed to discourage participation beyond reading the declaration, these nations managed to register protests. It was unclear how the text would reflect their dissent. Without setting dates or concrete goals for the other issues at the Sixth Ministerial, the WTO “returned home limping, but still on its feet.”
Thus, the WTO saved itself from a third failure that would have revealed its incapacity to reconcile its trade liberalization agenda with its mission of development agreed on in Doha.
All this was bad news for the social movements. Organizations stated their view that the salvation of the WTO talks was a death sentence for thousands of farmers and workers throughout the world. As long as the market liberalization and rural privatization drives continue, they claimed, small producers will suffer increasing loss of jobs, lands, and culture. As a result, their countries will see the erosion of their control over food production and national sovereignty.
Via Campesina International, a non-governmental organization that led the Saturday march against the WTO in Hong Kong, believes that the only way to avoid this outcome is to pull agriculture out of WTO talks. Rather than leaving agricultural trade to fall into chaos or return to protectionism, they instead propose reflection on the past, present, and future of economic integration and commissioning studies on the impact of market liberalization on poor people in each country and its impact on development. Without this evidence, unlimited market liberalization is an irresponsible act that plays with the lives of the most vulnerable and marginalized people on the planet.
Resistance in the Streets
December 17th was the day of the farmers' march in Hong Kong. The day of resistance and repression reflected the lines drawn between two versions of the future: on one hand, the defense of sovereignty and the family farm agricultural model ; on the other, globalization imposed from above by large corporations.
As the march began, as always, the participants seemed to be in no particular hurry. In Victoria Park, transformed from an urban recreational space to a hive of global activism, information stands from around the world were set up and from two stages songs, speeches, and slogans blared out over the crowd. The contingents of farmers and fisherfolk formed lines, waited, and listened to speeches in at least five languages. Despite delays, the protesters remained organized. They identified themselves with flags as well as hats and vests, a sort of uniform to show their membership. The Koreans sat on the grass in military-style lines and shared food prepared by Korean immigrants to Hong Kong—even far from home, they shared the sense of urgency to preserve a way of life and protest against the forces that expelled many of them from their villages.
Alberto Gomez from UNORCA (National Union of Autonomous Regional Farmers' Organizations) in Mexico was there along with three organizational representatives from the state of Guerrero. UNORCA is a member of Via Campesina International and helped organize the march. José Bové, a farmer from France who has been jailed repeatedly for his direct actions against transgenic crops and in favor of small farmers, Rafael Alegría from Honduras, Nico Verhagen, and directors from several Asian countries marched behind the green flags of Via Campesina.
About ten blocks from the park, we ran into the first metal barricades set up by the Hong Kong Police. The first confrontations happened suddenly, as we rounded a corner and encountered the first police barricades. The police had blocked the streets with metal bars so that the march could not get close to the Convention Center where the delegates designed the future in secret. The goal of the marchers was to reach the center and make their voices heard. The idea was to get as close as possible to where the decision-making took place.
Via Campesina formed the front line of the march. The arms of the participants and the poles from their flags became a type of gate to control who went up front into the street battle against the police and who didn't. Only Koreans were allowed to pass. In small groups and individually, they rushed the barricades, persistently, but striking the shields and barricades rather than the guards themselves. They employed their arms and legs in martial arts moves against the barriers. Their movements seemed perfectly choreographed, rehearsed, and showed their high level of training. The guards shot a pepper spray at close range—orange and sticky, it burned the skin of the protesters. The affected marchers headed back suffering, with red faces, and were washed up by helpers as others took their place.
Soon they had succeeded in knocking down several barricades and the march advanced, head on with the police, pushing forward, coordinating retreats, and trying new routes. Only a few people were bleeding; most were affected by the pepper spray, tear gas, and the high-pressured water hoses that the security forces let loose to try to regain control of the area.
This was a street battle for control of the territory between the marchers and the delegates ensconced in the Convention Center. The protesters, led by the Koreans, opened up holes in the defense and the other contingents rushed in to claim the ground won. Via Campesina maintained the front line and the Koreans crossed through to confront the police. They were so well-organized they even had members assigned to pick up the trash. Everything that seemed to serve as props when the march began—plywood signs with painted faces and logos, lifejackets that were used on the first day to attempt to reach the Center by swimming, chains that represented the slavery of the market regime—now had a practical use in the street confrontations. The wooden signs had become shields; the lifejackets identified leaders and protected them against punches; the chains pulled down barricades. When the vanguard got tired or gassed, replacements ran in.
We were able to get onto a bridge that crosses the highway and leads to the Convention Center. It was nightfall; about 6:30 pm. The Koreans formed a barrier and only let their fellow members through, women and men, to go up against the guards. Their drums sounded anytime there was a clash and kept up their ominous rhythms during the battle to give their warriors strength. The atmosphere was very tense. The front line moved to the base of the bridge and suddenly a victory cry was heard, meaning that they had broken the line of contention. Simultaneously, an explosion sounded and a cloud of gas appeared.
The greenish cloud was the last sight we saw because it was quickly followed by a collective blindness. Immediately everyone began to run, eyes shut tight, breath held. The next day the papers said that more than 20 canisters of tear gas were released in the same place at almost the same time. It's unbelievably strong. It makes your eyes burn and tear, but the worst is the effect in the lungs. You can't get oxygen; every breath is like inhaling fire; you wonder if you will ever be able to breathe again.
It seemed an eternally long moment. Then finally, the air inhaled became a little cooler, the burning subsided. The first gulps of fresh air scratched inside our chests but they brought a tremendous sense of relief. Many people were still vomiting and coughing, but slowly we began to recover.
The Rematch
The police had retaken half the bridge. They formed a line behind their shields, masks in place. It seemed they had executed their master plan and it worked—who would confront something like that again ? The answer is: all of us. The march reconstructed itself and returned to its position on the bridge.
However, here there was little room to advance and another front was opened on another street. Everyone ran in that direction. By 8:30 in the evening the march had reached the closest point to the Center and occupied a wide avenue lined by luxury skyscrapers. It was a surreal scene—a couple hundred multicultural protesters, another couple hundred riot-geared police, and in the background enormous neon snowflakes and Santa Clauses flashing out season's greetings on the sides of the 40-story buildings. There we sat anticipating a long night, listening to speeches, sharing stories, waiting to see what would happen next.
At 9:00 the police began to advance once again. They took the bridge above us and lines of masked and shielded forces began to push us from both ends toward where we were in the center. Some gas was released but not as strong this time. We remained put. The police sent word that those who remained would be taken to jail and it was decided that the Koreans, about 900, would stay, along with some members of other Asian organizations. Unsure, hesitating, the guards finally let the rest of us leave the area and arrested the protesters occupying the avenue.
As the police cleared the streets, the official delegates still hadn't reached an agreement. They decided to continue the session into the early hours of the morning. It was clear that it would be a long night for everyone. However, some were inside heated and lit salons sipping coffee, while others were in jail or on the street facing the cold wind coming in from the Bay of Hong Kong.
Commitment Born of Desperation
The media insists on painting the Koreans, in particular, as “violent.” Although militant, the Korean delegations confronted the police, but with tactics aimed at breaking barricades not bodies, and attitudes of determination rather than rage. They pushed, mostly with their own arms and legs, some with bamboo sticks. The police responded with gas, without warning, and hitting with sticks, although they too avoided a bloody response.
The combination of the culture, the desperation of farmers losing their livelihoods and their land, the near-military discipline, the tactical organization, and the force in numbers somehow gave the Koreans a moral authority that many others instinctively recognized. Watching them in action was to arrive at the marrow of the resistance, an irreducible core within a movement that is all too often dispersed distracted. Without being aggressive, these people—and many like them—are willing to face the ultimate consequences; they know why they're protesting and they know how to do it.
It is not anger that drives them, but deep conviction and commitment. Two days before the farmers marched, they executed a march that consisted of walking three steps, kneeling, and touching their foreheads to the ground in a prayer position. Physically, it is incredibly demanding, but they advanced for tens of city blocks repeating the same steady ritual. And the sacrifices were not only made by the Koreans—Alberto Gomez also had the bloody knees to show for it, as did a handful of other protesters.
If the final draft agreement managed to stave off institutional crisis for the time being, it did little or nothing to resolve the root contradictions facing the World Trade Organization. Everyone went home grumbling. Developed countries had hoped to gain more in market access, services, and intellectual property protection. Developing countries saw their development demands for the most part rejected, ignored, or postponed. Meanwhile, the battle on the streets of Hong Kong showed that opposition in countries throughout the world has deepened. While some seek to consolidate control over a form of globalization that serves the rich and powerful, others are slowly knitting the resistance that can gain ground for new alternatives.
Translated for the Americas Policy Program by Katie Kohlstedt.
Laura Carlsen directs the Americas Program of the International Relations Center, online at www.irc-online.org.
