In the global capitalist economy, the worst fate nations can stiffer is to become expendable. In their desperate struggle against the threat of expendability, many Latin American elites are relegating a large segment of their population––the peasantry––to precisely this fate. The subsistence farmer is considered by many to be a relic of the past, engaging in unproductive work and occupying land that could be put to better use. Yet once pushed off the land by “modernizing policies”, peasants migrate to cities that are ill-prepared to absorb them.
Upheaval in the countryside has thus gone hand-in-hand with upheaval in the cities. The rural crisis is widely felt as the emptying out of the countryside, while the urban crisis is felt as an inexorable flood into overcrowded cities in what is already the most urbanized region in the underdeveloped world. To explore the two faces of this seismic demographic shift, NACLA is putting together a two-part series, “The Countryside and the City.” This issue’s rural report will be followed by a report on the city in our upcoming January/Febuary 1995 issue.
In this issue, we examine the plight of the peasantry which in the context of the region’s growing insertion into the global capitalist economy, which now penetrates nearly all aspects of social and economic life. The consumption of food imports––from Cheerios to Kentucky Fried chicken to corn from Kansas––is skyrocketing. Agro-exports, especially nontraditional products such as mangos, roses and snow peas, are being actively promoted both by regional governments and foreign aid organizations. As their economies grow ever more dependent on Northern-dominated markets, countries have given up any pretentious of food self-sufficiency.
These changes have produced clear winners and losers, reinforcing existing class relations. Foreign investors, transnational food corporations and some domestic-owned enterprises have reaped big profits, while the land’s direct producers have borne the brunt of the costs. Peasants are being squeezed on all sides––by foreign and domestic capital eager to snap up the best farm land, by protracted political violence and repression, and by the withdrawal of most government-sponsored supports for the poor. With land reform off the agenda, peasants must put up a fierce struggle just to hold on to the land they have. And with rare exceptions, they don’t have access to the technology, capital and credit required to compete effectively in the global market.
One of the most disturbing social effects of the transformation of most Latin Americans into city dwellers has been the severing of the connection between people and the land. Communal––and even latifundia––land is being transformed into real estate. Land––the institution that organizes and gives coherence to daily life in the countryside––has been turned into just one more commodity. As a result, age-old peasant communities and the ways of life they represent are rapidly disappearing. The environmental sustainability of the current model is also open to question. As Peter Russet points out, conventional modem agriculture is ecologically suspect, with soil erosion, over-irrigation and pesticide resistance leading to higher costs and stagnating yields.
Given this state of affairs, there is a tendency to idealize the rural past with its organic peasant communities, the eternal corn cycle, and deep-rooted cultural traditions. But we should heed the peasants themselves, who are neither resurrecting the past nor passively letting the forces of history run rough-shod over them. Instead, as this issue’s interviews with Central American peasant organizers reveal, small farmers are fighting not only to preserve their traditions, but also to adapt to the changing political economy, and above all, to have a hand in the shaping of a more equitable future.
