On Moroccan Hill, Villagers Make Stand Against a Mine
By Aida Alami
IMIDER,
Morocco — On a hilltop nearly 5,000 feet high in the Atlas Mountains
here, a tiny outpost has taken shape over the past two years. The small
stone buildings are decorated gaily with graffiti, and there is an
open-air gallery. Many doors bear inspirational inscriptions from people
like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Mother Teresa. On the dam
of a nearby reservoir, someone has painted the face of a local activist,
now in jail on what the locals regard as trumped-up charges.
It
is an unlikely spot for a settlement, but it was established with a
purpose: to protest a mining company’s expropriation of precious water
supplies, as well as the pollution that results from the mining.
The
inhabitants are drawn from the nearby municipality of Imider, 6,000
people scattered over seven villages and neighbor to the most productive
silver mine in Africa.
But while the area may be rich in silver, it is home to some of the poorest people in Morocco.
The people of Imider (pronounced ee-me-DER) say they have grown to
resent the mine because they get nothing from it except pollutants. So
two years ago, some of them climbed up the hill and cut the water supply
to the mine. Since then, they have occupied the hill as they continue
to fight the Imiter Mettalurgic Company and, by extension, the king of
Morocco, its principal owner.
“We were ready to talk,” said Brahim Udawd, 30, one of the leaders of
the protest movement, referring to the events that led to the occupation
of the hilltop. “But nobody paid attention to us, so we closed the
water valve. They take the silver and leave us the waste.”
These days, the hilltop, Mount Alebban, is relatively calm. Women come
daily to cook in the little stone houses and participate in the regular
strategy meetings that the villagers hold.
“We
have been here for two and a half years, and nobody is hearing our cry
for help,” said Mina Ouzzine, 40. “I voted yes for a new constitution
because I hoped there will be change, more equality. We are only equal
in poverty.”
In
2011, when the Arab revolutions led to the fall of dictators in Egypt
and Tunisia, the Moroccan king, Mohammed VI, managed to stall the
protests by offering constitutional overhauls that guaranteed more power
to an elected government and more freedoms to Moroccans. But none of
that has helped the people here.
While
for some, the conflict of Imider is mostly ideological, others say that
it is not just about ordinary people rising up to make their lives
better but also part of a larger problem that is echoed in conflicts
with big mining companies across the globe.
The
occupation of the hill was set off in the summer of 2011 after students
who were used to getting seasonal jobs were turned down. That led the
other villagers — even those with jobs — to show solidarity and move to
block the mine’s production abilities. One of the main demands of the
villagers is that 75 percent of the jobs at the mine be allocated to
their municipality.
“The
bigger the mine, the more capital intensive the industry and the fewer
the jobs,” said Gavin Hilson, who specializes in mining and development
at the University of Surrey Business School. “Even if the policy in
place is to create jobs, there are only so many jobs it can create.”
Exactly
what is happening with the water is in dispute. The villagers say they
want the company held responsible for environmental damage that they say
is the cause of disease, livestock fatalities and desertification.
“In
the 1990s, I used to have trees, fruits, oil, almonds,” said Bou Tahar,
70, a farmer. But they died after the mine began taking the water, he
said, adding, “Since we cut the flow in 2011, our wells are starting to
fill up again.”
According
to Mr. Hilson, these kinds of disputes are not uncommon. “If you’re
operating in a place like that with quite a few people living in the
community, it would be suicidal to exhaust the place from its water
supply or to reach a point where villagers become agitated over the
consumption of water,” he said. “It is always challenging to operate in
dry environments. There are issues with water, with waste disposal and
community development because it all revolves around water.”
The
company categorically denies the townspeople’s accusations and says
that an environmental impact study has proved that it is not
contaminating the water supply or harming the environment. The company
says that the mining was certified as meeting global environmental
standards and that it has put in place irrigation systems for the
farmers.
“We
are very careful, and we don’t pollute the water or the land around the
mine,” said Farid Hamdaoui, a manager at the mine. “We recycle 62
percent of the water we use, and we have authorization from the state to
pump the water we use.”
Company
officials say their processing capacity dropped 40 percent in 2012 and
30 percent in 2013, after the villagers cut off one source of their
water. These days, they use another source in an effort to make up the
loss.
Mr.
Hamdaoui said that despite having the king as the main shareholder, the
company did not gain any special treatment from the government. He said
the company was spending more than $1 million a year to build schools
and to support community projects.
“We
don’t substitute for the state, but we work with the state in a
proactive social program,” he said. “The mine cannot unfortunately solve
all the problems of unemployment in the region.”
Still,
the activists who refer to themselves as the “Movement on the Way of
96,” a reference to a similar upheaval in 1996 that was crushed by the
authorities, maintain that the company is in fact receiving favorable
treatment from the state.
The
governor and other elected officials declined to comment on the
dispute, which settled into a stalemate after negotiations broke down in
November.
After
each meeting held at the foot of the hill, the villagers walk back home
holding up three fingers — one for the Berber language, one for the
land and one for mankind — hoping for someone to hear their call.
“The
king forgot about us. He tours the country helping people, and he never
comes to this region,” said one woman. “He is our father, and he has
forgotten about his children.”
Photo By Leila Alaoui
You can read the story on the New York Times' website.