RIVER WARRIOR (- by Jorge Trucco)
“Because we dared follow our heart we changed part of history”.
My early years in San Martín de los Andes were uniquely special, to say the least. It was a time of discoveries, of experiences I had never imagined. Of course, I knew the beauty of Patagonia’s native forests, its valleys, rivers, lakes, glaciers, mountains, wildlife and above all, its trout. As a fly-fisherman I had been in San Martin and other areas of Patagonia many times before, but actually living there exceeded my wildest expectations. I was well aware of that, and it pleased me enormously. I had become a fly-fishing guide and was enjoying every single second of my new life. I was delighted with my decision of making Patagonia my home as I envisioned living in paradise for many years to come, fly-fishing the pristine Patagonian Rivers. Nothing could ruin the future that lay ahead.
There were very few people living in San Martín in the late ‘70s, probably about 6,000, so most of us knew each other and life was pleasant. However, on a cold winter morning in 1979 something unexpected happened when I walked into the Tourism Office (run by the provincial government). I knew the people there and was a frequent visitor. That morning, something I’d never seen before caught my eye. Some booklets and leaflets with unusual maps and drawings were on display. As I looked through one I gradually understood what it was about, dam projects on our rivers. The booklets actually showed the dams they were planning to build on the cherished rivers in our area! I took them home to analyze them in depth.
I wanted to know who had published them, who was responsible but couldn’t get any answers. There was absolutely no information about the authors. Determined to find out, I asked around until I learnt about a company, owned by the federal government, called Hidronor. It had been created with a sole purpose: the construction of a dam near the city of Neuquén, on the Lower Limay River, called El Chocón Dam. That was back in 1967, when I was a teenager. It was a huge dam, presented to the Argentine people as a grand achievement, an extraordinary feat of engineering that would generate electricity for cities throughout the entire country for generations to come, as well as irrigating 2.5 million acres. Virtually everybody accepted it, nobody ever thought of questioning its impact.
That was where it all began. Although I didn’t know then, experience has taught me a company like Hidronor would not be dismantled after having built a dam like El Chocón. Quite the opposite, it was very much alive. After the completion of the first dam, scouting rivers for the construction of future ones was their strategy. Ironically, just like we fishing guides do, scout rivers to fish!
As I continued researching the projects, much to my concern, it became quite clear they involved all the rivers – big or small – where we fished and guided. Whenever I talked to people who should have known about it, all I got were vague answers. “Oh, yeah, but it’s just theoretical, you know. It’s only about the feasibility of building dams in the area. It’s not an actual project,” or words to that effect.
Despite my insistence I couldn’t get a straight answer and I began to think there was something secretive, a hidden agenda. I persevered and became even more concerned when, in 1979, the construction of another dam began. Alicura Dam was finally inaugurated in 1985 and I really felt the impact. It flooded all the upper Limay and lower Traful Rivers, both of which I had fished and guided on. About 60 miles from the city of San Carlos de Bariloche, it turned the upper Limay, a great stretch of river, into a reservoir.
Although I was not fighting dams at the time, I was really intent on learning all there was to know about them. That is how I discovered an ongoing project called ALICOPA, involving the construction of 3 dams. ALICOPA is an acronym for Alicura, Collon Cura and Piedra del Aguila. I have already mentioned Alicura, on the Upper Limay River, Piedra del Aguila is on the Middle Limay near a small town of the same name and the third dam on the Collon Cura River. This one was particularly disturbing as it would flood many of the rivers we were fishing.
Not surprisingly, the planned location of the dam was in a gorge. Needless to say, gorges and canyons are ideal sites for dams, and a “gauging station” had already been set up. It consisted of an outpost of sorts with a water gauge and a storage shed for tools and instruments. The realization that the 3-dam project was well on its way came as a shock. Alicura Dam was finished and the construction of Piedra del Aguila Dam (on the high steppe half way between San Martin de los Andes and Neuquén City) was nearing completion. I was really scared and all I could think of was: “How in hell can we stop the Collon Cura Dam from being built?”
It was then 1986 and, in a growing state of alarm, I decided to reach out to the people who would be most affected: neighbors, ranch and farm owners, fishermen, settlers whose land would be flooded and even clients from different countries (mostly Americans). I also met with the mayor of San Martín de los Andes and other government officials. Reactions ranged from support to minimizing the problem or simply indifference but mostly people disliked the idea of a dam on the Collon Cura River.
I adamantly urged them to “go and see for yourself, take a hard look at the huge reservoir at El Chocón Dam from the ‘60s or at Alicura Dam! That’s exactly what’s going to happen here; it’ll flood the entire Collon Cura and lower Malleo and Chimehuin Rivers, half the Aluminé River and more! And that’s not all, they have more projects. Every single river will suffer. It’s a ticking time bomb! Collon Cura Dam is an imminent threat; it is part of an ongoing dam complex. Go and see the work in Piedra del Aguila.”
Considering that these projects were designed and carried out by the federal government, I decided to contact local politicians. This requires an explanation about the characteristics of the Province of Neuquén. It is one of the few provinces governed not by a nationwide party, but by an independent provincial one. This entails a frequent claim that they are “their own party” and “look after their people’s interests” and “whatever benefits their province.” That is the rhetoric they used and what was happening in our community. They did not always side with the federal government when their interests differed from those of federal policies.
Even though I wasn’t as aware of this back then as I am now, it was a good move. For instance, when I approached the chief biologist at the Center of Applied Ecology, CEAN (for its name in Spanish: Centro de Ecología Aplicada del Neuquén) Alejandro del Valle, he understood the threat and offered his support. Another staunch supporter was Mr Roberto Sacconi who had set up a fly-reel company called STH (which later became known in the US) in nearby Junín de los Andes. We started lobbying and as others joined in, the campaign to stop the dam was finally on its way.
However, we didn’t quite know what arguments to use, who or what to target. It was an extremely difficult equation! The only thing we could do was raise hell and that is exactly what we did. On the opening day of the fishing seasons we blocked roads, burnt tires and put up signs with skulls and crossbones saying HIDRONOR = DANGER. We also stopped traffic, told everyone about our plight and handed out flyers before they went on their way. People actually liked it. It was a noble cause, especially among fly-fishers. We felt we were fighting the good fight, striving to make our cause popular, and succeeding, at least locally.
In the hope of continuing to raise awareness and foster commitment, I was later interviewed on our local radio station and TV channel and gave talks in different venues. I also organized several screenings of a movie Jorge Donovan had brought about the dams on the Columbia River ingeniously called “Dammed Forever”. And slowly but surely our struggle became known not only in my community but in nearby Junín de los Andes and Bariloche.
At the time I knew nothing about government corruption and other issues I later learnt at the San Francisco symposium. Neither did I know that large scale dams are not the only choice, that environmentally friendly options do exist, but from the start I couldn’t help feeling there was something morally wrong about dams.
Whenever I spoke to politicians or engineers who were in favour of building them they would resort to abstract concepts such as “Well, you know, there are very few people in Patagonia and this is for the greater good, the common good.” So I asked myself what this actually meant. Shouldn’t the common good include preserving the environment for future generations? How could destroying our rivers and valleys, our most productive areas, our lives, be beneficial? And what about the unique Patagonian natural woodlands and their wildlife? There would be expropriations, people would be ousted from their homes. The more I thought about it the more convinced I became it was immoral regardless the number of people it hurt.
Besides, who would determine what the greater good was? Politicians? Bureaucrats? The entity which was granted the exclusive permit to build the dams? And yes, this could “benefit” the city of Buenos Aires, 1000 miles away, but why should it be at our expense? We simply could not allow our beloved Patagonian landscape to be turned into a string of reservoirs! We could not allow our lives to be ruined!
So the word was out, not only about Collon Cura Dam but the plan for 4 more upstream, where the Collon Cura River changes its name to Aluminé: Talelum, El Chenque, La Media Luna and El Gato. To make matters worse, they wanted to divert water from the Caleufu River into the Limay Chico (a fork in the Upper Limay River) to feed Alicura Dam and build yet another dam on the Upper Traful River where the rapids are. Then came the Malleo and Chimehuin Rivers, two of the finest trout rivers in the world. Not only would a dam be built on each river, but a pipe through the mountain would supply water from the Malleo to the Mouth of the Chimehuin. It could become a never ending nightmare! It had to be stopped!
Easier said than done! The truth of the matter was, in spite of all the public attention and increasing support for our cause, I still didn’t have any information that would provide a solid argument against the construction of the dams. Until, in March 1988, we caught a break when I was guiding a client called Danny Weinstein on the Malleo River. One day I received a letter from somebody by the name of Mark Dubois, inviting me to participate of an international symposium against “large dams” to be held in San Francisco. I had no idea who he was or how he had heard about me. So, that evening over dinner, I decided to mention the letter to Danny.
Imagine my surprise when he replied: “That must be Mark Dubois. I know him.” “Yeah,” I said, “that’s exactly who it is.” “He’s a great guy,” Danny continued, “everybody knows and respects him. He’s a rafter. Once, he actually chained himself to a rock to stop a dam from being filled. He got a lot of attention and made a name for himself as a river warrior.” I listened in amazement as he went on to say: “By the way, I live in San Francisco. You should definitely come. You’re welcome to stay at home.” So I wrote to Mark Dubois accepting the invitation. It was the first international symposium organized by International Rivers Network to be held in June, 1988.
Danny’s fly-fishing trip came to an end but we stayed in touch. Time flew by and as planned, in June, I jumped on a plane brimming with expectations. It was quite a trek: from San Martin de los Andes to Buenos Aires, then on to Miami and yet another stopover until I finally landed in San Francisco.
Once I had picked up my bag, I was ready to make my way to Danny’s. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I was met by Mark Dubois and an entourage of people from different countries. As soon as the introductions were over Mark told me we would be sleeping in tents and floating Kings River the following day. And there I was, jet-lagged, wearing a blazer and tie, not exactly in the mood for a night in a tent! But I was young back then, and how could I possibly have refused?
The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, I was given a wet suit and off we went to Kings River where the rafts lay in wait. We all rowed through the rapids and, as was to be expected, some flew overboard and had to be pulled back into the boats. Of course, we were all equipped with life-vests, and nobody was in any real danger. It was actually a lot of fun! I realized Mark had had a great idea in making all of us get a first-hand experience of the river, a real feel of it and what it would mean if it were lost forever.
I finally arrived at Danny’s. He and Suey, his wife, were wonderful hosts. After showing me to the guest room, Danny told me they would be traveling in a couple of days but “you can stay as long as you like. Before leaving, please bring the mail in, leave the door locked; make sure you don’t forget any of your belongings because you won’t be able to get back in. Meanwhile, my house is yours.” And that was that.
I went back and forth from Danny’s to the symposium every day. I don’t remember exactly how long it lasted, perhaps 3 or 4 days. It was a massive event, probably one of the most crowded I’ve ever been to. There were people from China, Norway, India, the United States, Canada as well as European, African, Asian and South and Central American countries. I met a lot of interesting people and was delighted to speak to Patricia Adams who, with Lawrence Solomon, had written a book called “In the Name of Progress” which was a real eye opener.
On the first day, participants were asked to introduce themselves, say where they came from and why they were attending the symposium. When my turn came I did so and explained, in as much detail as I could, what I had learnt about the government’s plans and ended my speech saying: “Well, I’m here, we’re here, because we’re looking for help. We don’t know how to stop this.”
I was glad to feel the support of so many people, including Mark Dubois and Patricia Adams. She encouraged me to keep giving speeches, studying and fighting. On the other hand, I was shocked to hear what was going on in other countries and made notes of the speeches I listened to.
The symposium was also an opportunity to become acquainted with bibliography on the topic. I returned to Patagonia with a duffel bag full of publications related to dams. Among them were the two key books which played an essential part in my fight against dams: “The Social Environmental Effects of Large Dams” by Edward Goldsmith and Nicholas Hildyard and, the aforementioned “In Name of Progress – The Underside of Foreign Aid” by Patricia Adams and Lawrence Solomon. They still have a special place in my library.
I came to understand what I had never suspected or imagined: the connection between the World Bank and other foreign agencies such as the United States Agency for International Development, the Canadian International Development Agency, Britain’s Overseas Development Administration; commercial banks like Chase Manhattan and the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce; export promotion bodies like the Export-Import Bank in the US, the Export Development Corporation in Canada and so on and the governments of the countries where dams would be built, the politicians, corporations or entities with the technology and knowhow that built the dams.
I was approached by some attendees from Norway who, upon hearing me say the name of the company building the dams in Patagonia was Hidronor, wondered if “nor” stood for Norway. I explained it had nothing to do with their country, it actually stood for “norte” which is north in Spanish. Their concern really impressed me.
There were countless examples from all over the world like the Kariba Dam on the Zambezi, the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze and their disastrous consequences. There was a seemingly endless stream of cases, explaining how the projects started and were carried out, where the money came from and where it ended up, what could have or should have been done or avoided. The common denominator being their notorious social and environmental impact.
It became clear that the reason for building dams differed radically from what I had been told. Most of it, if not all, involved corruption. The truth is that once an entity like Hidronor in our case, or the Army Corps of Engineers in the United States is formed, it becomes a malignant tumour of sorts which just has to keep growing. The only way they can stay alive is by continuing to do what they were created for.
I was stunned by the level of corruption. A government is a monopoly consequently, when it runs an entity that builds dams obviously presidents, ministers, governors, bureaucrats and politicians resort to loans from the World Bank or other agencies. They then grant a “concession”, “permit” or “license” for the construction of dams to a company with “government pull” which will use government force to do whatever it takes to build a large dam. The real cost is irrelevant since, by its very nature, it has to be funded through taxation: large dams are no more than government whims, not market based equations or decisions. To say nothing of both short and long term consequences, the sediment and the silt, the diseases and the unsurmountable problems they generate.
When the International Rivers symposium was over, Mark asked me to give a speech at Berkley University which I gladly agreed to do. It was a smaller audience but very tuned into the subject. They showed their commitment by writing to the governor and political authorities of both the federal government and of the Province of Neuquén where the dams would be built.
Having gained a deeper insight into the ploys governments used to brainwash people into believing dams were beneficial, I then focused on their consequences. And the consequences and implications were endless and brutal, for there was another aspect to the dam-building issue, one that the industry was less keen to display. It included massive ecological destruction, social misery and increasing ill health and impoverishment for those very people who were said to benefit most:
