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La articulación de la tierra communal y los regímenes de propiedad privada

en los resguardos de Colombia

Comentario: La Constitución colombiana de 1991 reconoce los resguardos como formas de propiedad colectiva e inaienable, en el marco de otros derechos otorgados a los pueblos indígenas. El autor analiza el origen histórico y el sinificado de la reforma constitucional. A partir del estudio de un caso (Guambí) se explicitan la tensión y conflictos  entre el régimen protector constitucional y el régimen de propiedad privada. Dicho caso ilustra problemas pendientes a resolver para armonizar el régimen de resguardos con el de propiedad privada.

. Nota:  Documento enviado por el autor a ALERTANET. Para cualquier reproduccion comunicarse con el autor.

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The articulation of communal tenure and private property regimes,

a framework for future research in Colombian resguardos[i]

Ponencia presentada en el Congreso Internacional de Pluralismo legal y derecho popular, Arica, marzo 2000.

J.J. van de Sandt, MSc.  sandt@jur.uva.nl

 

Introduction

 

In Colombia, the 1991 Constitution recognizes indigenous resguardos as inalienable communal property and estipulates that these territories are to be governed by indigenous councils in accordance with the customs and traditions of local communities. This official recognition of indigenous territorial rights poses various practical problems related to the harmonization (articulation) of communal property (tenure) regimes and the legal order of the state, which is oriented towards private property. This paper will address some of these problems. It begins with a brief outline of the history of the resguardo institution up to the present day. Then, after the specification of some theoretical concepts and a methodological perspective, an analysis of communal land tenure in the particular case of Guambía, an Andean resguardo in southwestern Colombia, has been made with the explicit aim to identify some relevant questions for future case study research.

 

 

The resguardo: context, history and current status

 

In recent years, new constitutions have been proclaimed in a series of Latin American countries. Even though the constitutional reforms were intended primarily to deal with issues such as democratization, the legitimacy crisis, the fiscal (debt) crisis, structural adjustment policies and the move to neoliberalism, one of the most salient features of these new constitutions is the fact that they all have come to acknowledge the multicultural and pluriethnic character of the state and in different ways and degrees recognize indigenous peoples’ rights (Assies, 2000: 3). In the case of Colombia, representatives of national indigenous organizations, who had gained some experience in the political-legislative field in the previous decades, came to play a prominent role in the reform process and managed to achieve considerable results. In fact, the 1991 Constitution opened up an unprecedented space for indigenous peoples (roughly 2% of the population[ii]) as it unequivocally recognizes their cultural identity and autonomy in the language of self-determination (cf. Field, 1996: 101).[iii] In territorial terms this implies a confirmation and expansion of indigenous resguardo lands, which by the mid 1990s already covered almost a quarter of the national territory (Hoffman, 2000: 123).[iv]

 

Throughout the past century, but particularly from the 1970s onward, indigenous peoples’ activism in Colombia has centered round land and territory, more particularly the institution of the resguardo (Findji, 1992; Rappaport, 1992; Kloosterman, 1994 and 1997). The resguardo was introduced by the Spanish during colonial times (as early as 1549) in the Andean region. In an effort to concentrate dispersed Indian populations, pieces of territory were vested in the hands of a community as permanent, inalienable communal property in exchange for the payment of tribute to the Crown. Today, its main characteristics are a communal land tenure in which individual farmers are assigned usufruct but not ownership rights, and governance by an elected council, the cabildo, which administers the land and natural resources. Indigenous communities living in resguardos have always enjoyed a certain degree of autonomy with respect to internal matters, whereby the cabildos play an important mediating role between the community and the outside world (Field, 1996: 101; Jackson, 1996: 123). To understand why the institution of the resguardo through time has come to define communities as indigenous, one has to take a closer look at the long history of indigenous struggle and resistance in Colombia.

 

After independence (1810), the resguardo was in continuous danger of disappearance as it became a major issue in the power struggle between, on the one hand, conservative forces wishing to maintain the institution as a source of cheap labor and tribute, and, on the other hand, progressive forces pushing for the immediate dissolution of resguardos in the name of progress and ‘civilization’. At first, laws were established allowing the sale of resguardo land. Other legal measures effectively legitimized their violent expropriation. However, when policies designed to privatize communal lands appeared to have failed – not least because of resistance from indigenous communities – this ‘progressivist’ legislative trend was reversed by Law 89 of 1890. In a renewed attempt by the state to gain direct control over indigenous territories, this discriminatory law declared all Indians to be ‘minors’ and effectively recognized and protected resguardos and cabildos until their eventual assimilation into national society. Paradoxically, Law 89 – which is, with a few minor changes, still in effect – would become the primary means by which indigenous peoples were able to defend their communities and traditional authority in the 1970s and 1980s (Avirama & Márquez, 1994: 92; Kloosterman, 1994: 160; Jackson, 1996: 123). But this was not to happen yet.

 

Although legally protected, in the first half of the twentieth century resguardo lands continued to be usurped through the fabrication of false title deeds, the classification of resguardo territory as public land suitable for resettlement by non-Indian farmers and the outright stealing of land under the threat of violence (LeGrand, 1986; in Rappaport, 1992: 204). Despite organized resistance from 1910 to 1940, the hostile legislation aimed at indigenous peoples’ assimilation finally took effect when modern infrastructure reached the Andean region in the 1950s. This development made the area easily accessible to commercial markets, which in turn accelerated cultural change in indigenous communities. As a consequence, cabildos lost authority and many inhabitants of resguardos started to show a preference for private ownership of land. By the late 1960s, many resguardos had fallen into decline (Kloosterman, 1994: 161). Then, the 1970s suddenly saw the reemergence of indigenous consciousness. Dispossessed and humiliated, indigenous communities became active in reclaiming territory through land occupation, guided by historical documents and backed up by juridical means, notably Law 89 of 1890. The recovered land, or recuperación, was reincorporated into the resguardo and placed under cabildo jurisdiction. The process of reclaiming land strengthened communities and reconstituted cabildo authority.[v] It became a central objective of most indigenous organizations as it permitted communities to transform recovered lands from private to communal property. In a way, this signified a return to the territorial autonomy of the past (Findji, 1992: 119; Rappaport, 1992: 205).

 

Even before 1991, the Colombian government officially recognized resguardos and the authority of the cabildos in response to persistent indigenous organization and demands for territory.[vi] Decree 2001 and Law 30 of 1988 made it possible for INCORA, the Colombian Institute for Land Reform, to buy private land from individual owners and adjudicate these to indigenous communities as communal property under the administration of cabildos. It also allowed the creation of new resguardos in other regions of the country (Arango, 1992: 236; Roldán, 1993: 65-66). The 1991 Constitution has taken the status of the resguardos and cabildos much further. The cabildos have been attributed with a range of functions such as to watch over the application of legal norms regarding the use of the land, to design policies and programs for development within the territory, in line with national policies, and to identify and distribute resources and to safeguard natural diversity. Following programs of state decentralization, resguardos are given the status of municipality and increasingly participate in national revenues. The legal position of the resguardos was further consolidated in various verdicts by the Constitutional Court, which was created to assure the effectiveness of rights included in the new constitution (Assies & Hoekema, 2000: 251). In time, a new Organic Law of Territorial Order should foresee in the creation of Indigenous Territorial Entities (henceforth referred to by the Spanish acronym ETIs), large-scale territories governed by indigenous councils with greatly increased local control of jurisprudential and administrative matters. Being a highly controversial subject, the ETIs have not yet materialized however (Assies 2000: 12).

 

 

Conflict rules and the articulation of communal tenure and private property regimes

 

In Colombia, the adoption of a new constitution and the recognition of the internal self-determination of indigenous peoples has resulted in a situation of ‘juridical or official legal pluralism’: the inclusion within the national legal order of a principle of recognizing ‘other law’[vii], in this case the indigenous normative structures operating in resguardos (Hoekema, 1998: 61-63). What before was an empirical fact has thus been made official (or legal, from the government’s point of view).[viii] This state of affairs calls for ‘conflict rules’, which can be defined as those legal rules that allow for the peaceful coexistence of two or more distinct systems of law and authority within one sociopolitical whole (Hoekema, 1998, 2000)[ix]. These rules define the nature and content of the legal orders, delimit the spheres of competence of the authorities concerned, and specify procedures with which to solve potential questions of applicability between the dominant legal order of the state and that of a particular community with a certain degree of autonomy or internal self-determination (cf. Hoekema, 2000: 6-7). These conflict rules have also been referred to as ‘metarules’ (Ibid.), or  ‘laws of coordination and compatibility’ (Yrigoyen, 2000: 214). Following from this definition, a search for conflict rules involves the exploration, demarcation and harmonization of the boundaries between the diverse legal orders in various domains, such as jurisdiction (national law vs. special jurisdiction and individual vs. collective rights), government (national vs. local authorities), property regimes (private vs. communal property), and the management of natural resources and development (national vs. indigenous forms), to name some of the more important ones. One could also refer to this process as the articulation of indigenous legal orders and the dominant legal order of the state.

 

In an attempt to get a grasp of this process, I would like to limit myself to the domain of property (tenure) regimes with regard to the resource land. A property regime can be understood as a complex of rules, principles and procedures regulating the legitimate access to, control over, and use and management (including acquisition and transfers) of property resources (F. von Benda-Beckmann, 1995: 311), in my case land or territory. In fact, the use of the term territory is preferable here as communal tenure regimes of indigenous peoples usually include both land for productive purposes and those areas that are essential for the reproduction of their social and cultural identity. Research into the articulation of a regime of communal land tenure and the dominant regime of private property should not be construed as having to deal with relations between a certain indigenous community and the national society only – ‘external’ relations from the point of view of the indigenous community. These external relations are to a high degree determined by the socioeconomic and political relations ‘internal’ to a particular indigenous community, and vice versa. Clearly, the legal orders of indigenous communities, including their characteristic forms of communal land tenure, are not closed and self-contained. In fact, as the history of the resguardos demonstrates, they are the very result of an age-long interaction between indigenous communities and the national society and state, a process that has gained renewed momentum with the new constitution. Research into the articulation of property regimes with regard to land and territory should therefore focus on the interplay between external and internal property relations (Ibid.: 314). Moreover, it can be assumed that a sustained effort at the political level to reach a peaceful coexistence of two legal orders will lead towards a reconfiguration of both. The official recognition of communal land tenure regimes compels indigenous communities as well as the national state to reevaluate their respective legal orders in this domain. In an endeavor to understand the dynamics of this complicated process, I would opt for a legal anthropological perspective in combination with an actor-oriented approach (Van Velsen, 1967; Moore, 1978; Giddens, 1984; Long, 1989 and 1992; F. von Benda-Beckmann, 1992, 1995 and 1997). In this way, it is possible to direct attention to social actors (both individuals and collectivities) as agents in the production and reproduction of social and legal arrangements, whereby their actions are at the same time facilitated and constrained by different, and often conflicting, institutional structures and processes.

 

With regard to this articulation process, I would now like to concretize my future research in Colombian resguardos at least on some points. If one takes the vantage point of a particular form of communal land tenure, it seems that first attention must be directed towards the different ways in which this regime operates, the ‘rules of the game’ so to speak. As indigenous forms of communal tenure are deeply embedded in social relations, a study of this kind certainly also has to deal with matters related to the effectiveness of the authority systems involved, notably the cabildo (but conceivably also other forms of authority), degrees of internal differentiation with respect to access to power and resources (particularly land), and the issue of the social cohesion and continuity of indigenous communities (a good framework for a study of this kind is provided by Depew, 1994). Finally, if possible leads for conflict rules are to be found, one has to look for the concrete situations in which the communal regime comes into contact with the predominant private property regime. I will henceforth refer to these situations as (juridical) ‘interfaces’ (a concept borrowed from Long, 1989: 232). In order to identify some of these interfaces, I have tried to analyze the particular form of communal land tenure as practiced in the indigenous community of the Guambía resguardo in southwestern Colombia. For lack of research material of my own, this description builds extensively on data assembled by the legal anthropologists Perafán, Azcárate & Zea (1996) and to a lesser extent on the ethnographic work of Pachón (1987).[x]

 

 

The Guambía resguardo

 

Located in the municipality of Silvia (Cauca), Guambía is a resguardo of colonial origin and the place of abode for about 17,000 Guambiano Indians. It is surrounded by the resguardos Quichaya (Páez[xi]), Pitayó (Páez) and Ambaló (Guambiano) in the northeast and east, Totoró (Guambiano) and Quizgó (Guambiano) in the south and southeast, and by haciendas of non-Indian (mestizo) landowners living near and among the 5,000 or so mestizo inhabitants of the small town of Silvia. The municipality is part of the central region of the Cauca department and has a population of no more than 30,000 people, of which approximately 20% lives in the urban area and 80% in the countryside.[xii] With a surface area of 18,529 hectares and altitudes ranging from 2,500 to 3,800 meters above sea level, the Guambía resguardo stretches across the western slopes of the central Andean mountain range (Cordillera Central). At this altitude, the average temperature is fairly low (12° C) and rainfall high (1370 mm/y). The rugged territory is intersected by numerous rivers, the river Piendamó being the most important, and two secondary roads, one of which ultimately converges with the Cali-Popayán highway. The Guambianos have their settlements situated in the low-lying parts of the resguardo, using the adjacent lands for agricultural production (Pachón, 1987: 235; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 182).

 

The local minifundista economy is dominated by the production of potatoes and onions, which are largely destined for commercial markets outside the resguardo. These commodities are primarily cultivated in the more elevated areas, called tierra fría by the Guambianos. Maize and wheat are typically planted in the lower parts of the resguardo, commonly referred to as tierra tibia. Except for onions and garlic, all these crops are cultivated in rotation with a variety of other crops, such as ulluco, broad beans (elevated areas), beans, peas, cabbage and arracacha (lower parts).[xiii] Although most of the arable land is set apart for the cultivation of potatoes, maize is considered to be the principal produce. Highly valued for its taste and social role in community life, it is used exclusively for domestic consumption. Most families also keep some head of cattle, one or more horses and small domestic animals like sheep, chickens and guinea pigs. Milk is sold on local markets. In Guambía, almost three out of every four hectares is used as grazing land, which can be explained by the high costs of putting land under cultivation. The local diet is rich in carbohydrates but poor in proteins, as the practices of both fishing and hunting are practically nonexistent. Artisanship and the local production of handicrafts is diminishing due to competition from the industrial production of textiles, hats and footwear, products which the Guambianos buy on local markets. Guambía’s economy stands out from those of neighboring resguardos by its high degree of incorporation into the market economy (Pachón, 1987: 238; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 183, 191, 193-196).

 

The basic social unit in Guambiano society is the domestic group, which is generally composed of a nuclear or extended family. Affinity is determined by cognatic descent and marital residence usually is virilocal. In practice, this means that family groups connected by patrilinial ties mostly live together in one vereda, a quarter or neighborhood.[xiv] However, this does not necessarily have to be the case. Increasingly, families can be found scattered over different veredas, which is the result of a limited occurrence of uxorilocal residence as well as internal migrations caused by the widespread practice of mortgaging, leasing and selling of usufruct rights to land among community members (this latter phenomenon will be dealt with in more detail in the subsequent paragraph). Nonetheless, Guambianos identify strongly with their vereda of origin. Community relations – relations of affinity and friendship between persons and families as well as the ties that exist between veredas – are being worked out and reproduced during labor exchanges and, occasionally (less than in former times), mingas, collective work festivities organized by the cabildo. Labor exchanges are based on relations of reciprocity and basically oriented around the needs of families that need periodically to call upon a larger work force, for example in the beginning of the growing season and during harvest time or house construction. The mingas fulfil a very important social role as they guarantee both the revitalization of a sense of community and the strengthening of ethnic identity (Pachón, 1987: 241-243; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 196, 198-199).

 

The cabildo of Guambía has gained in authority along with the rise of ethnic mobilization since the early 1970s, in which the Guambianos historically have played a prominent part (Findji, 1992: 122-125; see also Kloosterman, 1997: 66-73). Politically, the resguardo is divided into 8 zones composed of 4 to 7 veredas. Each zone is allowed to elect one alcalde (mayor), one secretary and one or two alguaciles (custodians), who are all included in a central cabildo. This institution furthermore includes the governor, a suplente (assistant), a secretary general and a treasurer. The central political figure is the governor, who has the principle task of representing the resguardo in relations with the outside world. The suplente attends to the governor’s duties in his absence. The secretary general, who is appointed by the governor, also is a key figure in Guambiano political life as he is responsible for the formalization of (internal) land transfers and keeping up official relations with national authorities. The alguaciles are the lowest functionaries in the cabildo hierarchy. The cabildantes – as a rule all men – are elected for a one year term.[xv] Although the cabildo ostensibly is a democratic institution, this image conceals a certain asymmetry in power relations (not least between men and women). It appears that over the past decades, most of the governors came from the more elevated veredas in the east of the resguardo, home of the ‘oldest’ families in Guambía. This principle of spatial distribution of power, ‘high over low’ and ‘east over west’, is predominant and appears to stem from pre-colonial times (Pachón, 1987: 244-245; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 261-262; compare with Kloosterman, 1997: 78, 80). The cabildo organizes assemblies once every three months, an occasion on which community members have the opportunity to review its performance.[xvi] Particularly concerning the adjudication of land, the cabildantes are often confronted by accusations of prejudice in favor of their relatives and to the detriment of persons opposing their administration. There is also criticism of a lack of resolution and clarity in solving conflict cases and the ease with which recourse is being sought to legal institutions of the state (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 259-260).

 

As regards relations with neighboring resguardos, Guambía has a history of ardent boundary disputes with Ambaló (Guambiano), Quizgó (Guambiano) and Pitayó (Páez).[xvii] This fact and the endogamous character of the indigenous communities in Silvia are said to be the main reasons for the limited sense of solidarity between these resguardos. These rather antagonistic relations between the indigenous communities are reflected in their being associated with different and often opposing national indigenous organizations. The relations with the López and Mosquera families, owners of several of the haciendas adjacent to Guambía, are generally strained. The cabildo maintains multiple relations with the alcaldía (mayoral offices) in Silvia. In the political sphere, especially during municipal elections, the cabildo tries to steer a middle course between the conservatives and the left-wing M19[xviii], in a municipality that is by tradition liberal. On the administrative level, contacts most frequently have a bearing on intergovernmental transfers of tax revenues assigned to the resguardo population. The central element in contacts with various other state entities is the drafting of a so-called ‘plan for ethno-development’, also known as Plan de Vida Guambiano, a process in which the cabildantes receive technical assistance of CENCOA, a federation of farmer cooperatives, and of various other NGOs and governmental agencies (Ibid.: 258).

 

 

Communal land tenure in the Guambía resguardo

 

The type of communal land tenure which is practiced in Guambía today shows many similarities with those of other indigenous communities in the Andean region (e.g. Pachón, 1987b; Perafán, 1995; Field, 1996; Kloosterman, 1997; to name only a few). However, its particularities have been shaped by local historical developments. The ways in which it currently operates are to a considerable extent determined by the following realities: (1) a high population pressure, as a result of which there is an acute scarcity of arable land; (2) a relatively high degree of incorporation into the market economy, which has led to disparities of access to land (usufruct rights) and class differentiation; and (3) the existence of other, more recent forms of tenure besides the predominant regime of communal tenure within the borders of one and the same resguardo.

 

Characteristics of tenure

The Guambianos acquire individual usufruct rights to communal lands through their membership of the Guambía community. Generally, this means that a person has to be native to Guambía, be in command of the Guambiano language and abide by the uses and customs of the community. Men – and to a limited extent also women – of the age of 18 years or with married status get access to land by way of cognatic inheritance. In their lifetime, elder men (and women) divide their rights to land among their children. These transfers have to be formally endorsed by the cabildo (Pachón, 1987: 238). In accordance with the national law, in Guambía today no land is being sold, mortgaged, leased or pledged in relations with people from outside the community (called ‘polig’ by the Guambianos[xix]).

 

The Guambianos distinguish between three types of arable land. First, a home garden can be found on the house lot of each domestic unit. Covering between 0.05-0.1 ha, it is used for the production of small quantities of food crops and a selection of medicinal plants. In addition, the house lot mostly also includes a pasture, generally of limited dimensions, used for tending horses and cows. The house, home-garden and small pasture together are referred to as ‘namuy guareinog’, which translates as ‘where we live’. Secondly, stretches of flat or accentuated terrain are generally used to grow a whole range of crops, but primarily either maize or potatoes, depending on the altitude. On these fields, which on average cover 0.5 ha, the characteristic agricultural practice of crop rotation is still widely practiced. Due to the scarcity of land, a nuclear family usually has access to only one piece of land in this category. This situation is urging families to engage in relations of ‘vertical complementarity’, whereby maize and beans are exchanged for potatoes and ulluco. In the lower parts of the resguardo, people refer to this type of field as ‘poráh ell'guien tul’, literally meaning ‘where we grow maize’. Thirdly, portions of even land, preferably at higher altitudes, are used for the cultivation of onions. This land – on average 0.5 to 1 ha per family – is usually kept in production uninterruptedly for periods of about 20 years. The onions are often intercropped with garlic, and a small section of this terrain is planted with food crops in order to sustain the people during work. The Guambianos refer to this land as ‘cebolla tul’, onion field. Besides arable land, families have access to an average of 5 ha of grazing land, referred to as ‘guara tul’, which is generally spread out over 3-7 separate fields. Grazing lands can be found all throughout the resguardo. Close to the highland páramo, they consist of natural permanent grasslands. In the lower parts of the resguardo, they may consist of either grassland areas (sabanas) or artificial pastures, both of which were formerly used for the cultivation of maize or potatoes. Arable land of this kind – never onion fields – may at any time be converted into grazing land and vice versa, depending to a considerable extent on the prices for milk on commercial markets (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 193-196).

 

As can be seen, all arable and grazing lands are in the possession of domestic units composed of nuclear families. Although most of the land is in the hands of men, in some cases women are also assigned individual usufruct rights to land. However, due to land scarcity they are most often compensated with animals (Ibid.: 194-196, 199). The Guambianos apparently no longer use a part of their territory collectively as a commons. Even forests and wood lots (monte) are adjudicated to separate families. It has been asserted that until 1970 the permanent grasslands of the páramo were used collectively by the inhabitants of the old (elevated) veredas for the grazing of cattle and – in some cases – horses. In that year, families with agricultural fields adjacent to the páramo started excluding other families by fencing off these lands for individual use. As the occupation of land on the páramo is culturally prohibited, this act was met with fierce resistance, particularly from families who were unable to do likewise, i.e. from lower veredas (Ibid.: 195n32, 200, 202, 211). This history clearly illustrates that there is a trend of decreasing availability of land in Guambía. Fields are getting smaller with every new generation as the expansion of the communal territory – either by reclaiming lands outside the resguardo or by bringing more land under cultivation within the resguardo – cannot keep pace with the population growth (see also Pachón, 1987: 239).

 

Distribution of usufruct rights

From the foregoing description, the distribution of land – at least on the level of the nuclear family – might seem to be equal. This, however, is by no means the case. Under the influence of the market economy, pronounced differences in terms of wealth and landholding (possession) have emerged. This situation has led the Guambianos to divide the social stratum into the categories of ‘rich people’ (ricos), ‘the reasonably well-off’ (medianos – the great majority) and ‘the poor’ (pobres and pobrecitos) and has even resulted in the emergence of a group of landless farmers performing wage labor for members of rich families. In particular, this is the outcome of the internal buying and selling of usufruct rights to land, most often by liability, a process which has started in the 1930s and continues until this day in ‘secrecy’ (“behind the cabildantes’ backs”). Less affluent people who have become indebted can ask for a loan from a member of a rich family who in return receives the usufruct rights over a part of lands of the former. If the debtor is not capable of returning the loan within the period as agreed on between both parties – and their families cannot reach a settlement – the ‘mortgaged’ land remains in the hands of the creditor. In other cases, rights to land are being sold by less affluent or near-landless families opting for migration to the low-lying regions of the Cauca and Huila departments – often referred to as tierras de lo caliente – where land prices are far less high. Although a ban has been put on both these practices, in the latter case the authority of the cabildo is heavily compromised by the situation of land scarcity in the resguardo (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 198, 200, 206-207, 217-219).

 

Pachón (1987: 239) sheds some light on the magnitude of disparities of access to land in Guambía. In 1973, 21.1% of the Guambiano families had access to less than one plaza (0.64 ha) of land, while 50.7% of the families had between 1 and 5 plazas (0.64-3.2 ha) at their disposal, and 28.2% of the families was in possession of more than 3.2 ha of land.[xx] Considering current trends, differences in access to land could be expected to have grown more pronounced, although successful attempts at reclaiming territory outside the resguardo after 1973 are likely to have appeased this process. For 1996, Perafán, Azcárate & Zea estimate that 2% of the total number of families had access to 15 ha of land (ricos), 84.7% had 3 to 4 ha of land (medianos) and 13.3% (pobres) had 1 ha of land or less (Ibid.: 207). Moreover, 8% (240) of the 3,000 families in Guambía did not have access to arable land in the old resguardo – only in the successfully ‘recuperated’ lands (Ibid.: 194-195n30). The unequal distribution of usufruct rights in Guambía is reaching the limits of tolerance. It has recently occurred that lands sold by liability (now in the hands of rich families) were occupied by the heirs of the former debtor (Ibid.: 247, 259-260).

 

Other, more recent forms of tenure

Starting as early as 1963, the Guambianos have been very active in reclaiming territory outside their resguardo (see Findji, 1992). Officially, however, it was not before the mid 1980s that national legislation (notably Law 30 of 1988) allowed INCORA to extend the territories of existing resguardos by adjudicating land as communal property to indigenous cabildos. Under Law 135 of 1961, a ‘progressive-integrationist’ land policy imposed several other forms of tenure on indigenous communities, which were intended as a transitory phase in the development towards private property (Findji, 1992: 122). In Guambía, two of these tenure forms can still be found today.

 

Firstly, there is the form of the agricultural cooperative with corporate capacity. In 1963, INCORA allowed 40 Guambiano families to recover the 250 ha large hacienda Las Delicias, which they were able to buy with a loan from the Caja Agraria (rural bank). Today, this area is known as the Santiago cooperative. Probably in much the same way, the San Fernando hacienda (of unknown size) became the La Campana cooperative in 1964. In the case of the Santiago cooperative, each of the 40 families has access to 5 ha of land, which is for the greater part used as grazing land for animal husbandry. In addition, 50 ha of land are set apart for collective forms of arable farming, cattle-breeding and reforestation. It remains unclear what kinds of land use are being practiced in the La Campana cooperative (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 194-195n30, 201, 205-206n50; see also Pachón, 1987: 240). Secondly, there is the empresa comunitaria (community enterprise, henceforth referred to as EC) based on the model of producers’ cooperatives. When the Guambianos successfully reclaimed the La Marquesa and La Chorrera haciendas in 1971, INCORA selected two groups of 15 families to become associates of ECs and granted them joint private ownership of the haciendas that were recovered by the community as a whole. In effect, these lands were thereby taken out of the resguardo system, the associate families were separated from the rest of the community and the jurisdiction of the cabildo was eliminated (cf. Findji, 1992: 120; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 194-195n30). Thus originated the ECs El Chimán and La Conquista, respectively. Apart from individual home-gardens, all of the 250 ha of land in El Chimán are used collectively for arable farming and animal husbandry. The EC La Conquista is divided into individual parcels of equal size (roughly 15 ha) among its 15 member-families. However, the kinds of land use practiced on these parcels remain unknown (Ibid.: 201).   

 

Although the work of Perafán, Azcárate & Zea does not give any indication of the nature of current relations between the Guambía cabildo and the executives of the two cooperatives (most likely administrative councils) both estates are considered to form part of the greater resguardo (Ibid.: 258). As of recent, this also counts for the EC El Chimán. Whereas these families were not much involved with the Guambía cabildo in former times, since 1990 they appear to draw closer to the resguardo community in a process of reintegration (Ibid.: 194-195n30). The EC La Chorrera has been parceled out in lands with individual title (so-called unidades agricolas familiares de propriedad individual, or UAFs) in 1993. Therefore it probably cannot – or no longer – be considered part of the Guambía resguardo (Ibid.: 201, 258).

 

Tenure strategies and new directions

In the face of land scarcity, the Guambianos have developed three basic strategies. Besides increasing agricultural activity on the páramo, certain families seem to be drawn into a process of intensification of agricultural practices. This process involves a shift from subsistence crops like maize to crops with high (economic) returns such as onions, garlic and even amapola, or ‘poppies’, an illicit crop used for the production of heroin.[xxi] This strategy is sure to affect both social relations and the tenure regime in Guambía as it leads to an increased dependency on outside (illegal) markets and new agricultural techniques and inputs (fertilizer and fungicides) – (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 201). In the past decades, out-migration has become a regular phenomenon in Guambía. An estimated 4,000 Guambianos have sold their usufruct rights in the resguardo and purchased so-called tierras de lo caliente in the municipalities surrounding Silvia (Cauca) or in the Huila department. Although one small Guambiano resguardo was founded in Piendamó (named La María), in most cases these lands are held as private property. This brings legal insecurity as Guambianos with private property outside the resguardo can no longer enjoy their indigenous status: to the outside world, they have become ‘peasants’ (campesinos) – (Ibid.: 210, 223).  The cabildo has expressed its disapproval of both illegal drug crop production (poppy) and the selling of usufruct rights to land but seems incapable of preventing these practices.

 

Between 1980 and 1984, the Guambía community has recovered 8 more haciendas bordering their resguardo. In the end, all were adjudicated as communal property in accordance with Law 30 of 1988. This makes a total of 2,000 ha of land reclaimed through occupation (Pachón, 1987: 240). Apparently, the cabildo maintains that newly recovered territory should be for the benefit of landless or near-landless families. Indeed, these families seem to have been the first to which an (unspecified) number of land units (of 0.1 ha) was assigned. In practice, however, the more affluent families have also taken portions of land in these extensions. Perafán, Azcárate & Zea (1996: 194-195n30) quote one of their Guambiano informants stating that the wealthy “have more power and [were thus able to] occupy the most fertile lands”. What is more, in some cases they took on landless Guambianos as wage laborers to bring their new land into cultivation. Ironically, in some cases this practice led to a situation in which these farmers were no longer in the position to get hold of their own portion of land in the recovered territory because they could not provide evidence of occupation (Ibid.: 207). The cabildo has made further expansion of the resguardo a key priority in their Plan de Vida. This document unfolds the intention to recuperate 13,500 ha of land in an area immediately to the east of Guambía in the direction of the Ambaló resguardo (Cabildo Indígena de Guambía & Universidad de Amsterdam, 1997: annex 2 – In this respect, Perafán, Azcárate & Zea [p. 195n32] make mention of no less than 20,000 ha!). This area is usually referred to as Gran Chimán – it has even been named the ‘corredor de Dantzig guambiano’ as it is the only direction left open for expansion of the resguardo territory. This land currently is the private property of several members of the Mosquera and López families. However, the cabildantes can substantiate their claim with an indigenous title from 1912 in accordance with Law 89 of 1890. Some of these landowners are willing to sell their land. Yet they refuse the intervention of INCORA, which is actually stalling the bureaucratic process (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea: 205-206n50, 258). The land situation in Silvia and neighboring municipalities is very tense. The resguardos Ambaló and Totoró have claims on these lands too. Without doubt, the struggle for Gran Chimán will bring up new conflicts, among the Guambianos of different resguardos, between Guambía and other indigenous communities (Páez) as well as with neighboring ‘polig’ (non-Indian) landowners.

 

 

To conclude: directions for future research in Colombian resguardos

 

To bring this paper to a close, I should return to its central objective: the search for interfaces for the articulation of indigenous communal tenure and the regime of private property in the case of Colombian resguardos. Where – at what points – do these property regimes intersect? Which ‘legal discontinuities’ (cf. Long, 1989: 232) can be distinguished at these interfaces?

 

Credit facilities

In the analysis of communal land tenure in Guambía at least one interface – a nodal point – in the contacts between communal tenure and the regime of private property comes to the fore: the issue of credit. One of the main reasons for the continuing existence of the informal practices of internal mortgaging and buying and selling of usufruct rights, resulting in growing differences in terms of access to land, is the manifest lack of possibilities for obtaining outside capital. Very likely, for some individuals this has been a reason to start opting for the cultivation of illicit drug crops (Field, 1996; comes to a similar conclusion). In fact, there are no real alternatives (for either one of both options). Raising money by mortgaging individual plots of land in relations with the outside world implies the risk of finally losing the land. This is inadmissible since it forms part of the inalienable communal property of the entire community. This observation brings us to a basic dilemma inherent in the inalienable character of resguardo lands. On the one hand, this legal condition protects the communal territory from aggressive land markets. On the other hand, however, it stands in the way of those communities that want to get beyond their traditional subsistence economy to get linked up with economic activities in the outside world (Hoekema, 1998/99: 290). Because of the land scarcity and a high degree of incorporation into the market economy, for the Guambianos this is no choice but a necessity.

 

To my knowledge, there is not much literature from other parts of the world that consistently deals with, or offers practical solutions for this kind of problem in the articulation of communal tenure and private property regimes. One example, however, is provided by Arango (1994) with regard to indigenous communities in Bolivia. In his draft law for the legal (constitutional) recognition of indigenous territories, he (briefly) goes into the possibility of pledging not the land itself but the harvest as a security for agricultural credit – under the auspices of the ‘natural’ (local) indigenous authorities (Ibid.: Annex I, p. 2, Art. 5.II). When speculating about the situation in Colombia, one could come up with ideas for an alternative solution. Although little elaborated, a governmental program for assistance to Colombia’s indigenous peoples makes mention of difficulties experienced by indigenous communities in the effective utilization of their shares of tax revenues while at the same time it (also) signals the need for special credit facilities (Jimeno/Ministerio de Interior, 1995: 159, 165). Could both problems not be solved at once if a part of this income would be used to provide for some kind of credit fund (under the administration of the cabildo)? These are only two very tentative suggestions which need further investigation. A thorough exploration of possible other legal arrangements at the credit interface is therefore warranted.

 

Other interfaces: statutory arrangements and access to land by outside parties

Although not directly emerging from the analysis of the situation in Guambía, one can conceive of other interfaces in the articulation of communal and private property regimes. In the above-mentioned governmental document, an action plan for assistance to indigenous communities makes provision for co-financing projects to increase levels of agricultural production in ways that are ‘in accordance with the social, cultural, economic and political particularities of these communities’ (Ibid.: 165). The latter additive is of special interest here, since joint ventures with outside agencies and enterprises might very well stumble on ‘problems of communication’ due to the different sociolegal structures that are operative within the resguardo and in society at large – a second interface (see Kloosterman, 1997: 119-124; for a discussion on suchlike problems in the case of a milk cooperative in the Muellamués resguardo, Nariño Department – compare with Wray & Peña, 1996: 117 ff.; for some experiences and examples from the Amazon). For indigenous communities like Guambía, future rural development projects may call for a special statute on local organization and representation in order to avoid their own communal structures being forced into the mould of existing (private) legal constructs (Hoekema, 1998/99: 289). Then there is the question of how and under what conditions outside (third) parties can have or get access rights to resguardo lands – a third interface. As an ethnically homogeneous community, at first glance this question does not seem to play a major role in the case of Guambía. There are no instances of private, individual property (of ‘polig’) to be found within its borders. However, the cooperatives Santiago and La Campana as well as the EC El Chimán are private legal constructs and can therefore be considered ‘third parties’. The community as a whole will have to take a position on the future legal status of the lands that now fall under the authority of these ‘foreign’ tenure institutions. The need for legal arrangements at this interface will become more apparent once (in case) ETIs will be instituted in the region, proposed indigenous state administrative units which may or may not include non-indigenous territories and which may or may not comprise the private property of ‘polig’. Although the ETIs still seem to be a far away reality, this interface already is an issue in most of the relatively young and much larger resguardos in the lowland rainforests (see Jackson, 1996: 127 ff.; for a discussion on the relations between indigenous and non-indigenous groups within the Vaupés resguardo). Both interfaces warrant further investigation in a comparative sense, in different Colombian resguardos as well as of comparable situations elsewhere.

 

As much as these encounters at the interfaces between communal tenure and private property are concerned with harmonizing problematic ‘external’ relations between indigenous communities and the state and national society, they will surely also have far-reaching repercussions and consequences for the socioeconomic and political relations ‘internal’ to these communities. It has become clear that the situation in Guambía is not as harmonious and socially coherent as indigenous communities are sometimes presented towards and by the outside world. The analysis of the tenure regime has highlighted some of the complex and contradictory social realities that exist in this particular community. A great responsibility rests on the shoulders of future cabildos. They will have to live up to many new – and high – expectations, of state and non-state agencies as well as of their constituency. Among other things, the Guambía community will have to deal with limits to the accumulation of usufruct rights (internal differentiation), the effectiveness and legitimacy of the cabildo, the relations with families that have migrated out of Guambía to other parts of the country, and the problems with neighboring (Guambiano) resguardos. Throughout Colombia, this new phase in the process of ethnic reorganization has only just begun and it leaves much to be investigated.


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[i] I would like to express my gratitude to J.M. Bavinck, J.J. Beuving, W. Heise, A.J. Hoekema and N.F. van Manen for critical comments on earlier versions of this paper.

[ii] Relative to the 40 million national population, this may not seem very significant numerically. Nevertheless, Colombia’s indigenous population is strikingly diverse, counting some 80 distinct indigenous peoples, comprising a population of approximately 700,000, speaking more than 60 languages and inhabiting nearly all of the 32 administrative-political divisions of the country. They are particularly prevalent in the Amazon, in Orinoquia, the Pacific coast, the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta and Perija mountains, the Guajira peninsula and the Andean zone (cf. Avirama & Márquez, 1994: 84; compare with Arango & Sánchez, 1998: 307).

[iii] For the first time, the 1991 constitution also grants specific (collective) rights, also territorially, to black communities of Afro-Colombian descent, constituting 10-12% percent of the national population (see, among others, Arocha, 1998; and Hoffmann, 2000).

[iv] As to the question why Colombia has ceded so much territory to such a small segment of its citizens, Jackson (1996) relates the most likely answer to the legacy of violence and the persistence of armed insurgency in so many parts of the country: the Colombian state is in fact so weak that it cannot administer a significant amount of the national territory. Furthermore she contends that giving so much land to its ethnic minorities makes Colombia look good in the eyes of international indigenous rights and ecology movements. Finally, she notes that, from the perspective of government officials and national elites, such legislation might help transform indigenous activists from ‘dangerous revolutionaries’ into law-abiding citizens (Ibid.: 125-126; compare with Avirama & Márquez, 1994: 84-85; and Padilla, 1995: 150-152).

[v] This was not without a price however. Right from its inception, the indigenous movement was targeted with high levels of violence, perpetrated by the military, guerrillas, local security forces and illegal paramilitary squads in the pay of landowners. Avirama & Márquez (1994: 90) state that more than 400 indigenous leaders have been assassinated, Indians from the Cauca department being the most affected (see also Findji, 1992: 127-129; and Kloosterman, 1994: 168-169, 171).

[vi] This recognition had immediate precedents in a public demonstration against existing legislation concerning the extension of resguardos, organized by the Guambiano people of Silvia (Cauca) from 1981 to 1985, as well as a protest march of cabildo governors from the Cauca and Nariño departments to Bogotá in late 1987, who demonstrated against plans for a state-initiated municipal reform that ignored the existence of indigenous cabildos and their territorial jurisdiction over the resguardos (Findji, 1992: 124, 129; Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 200n46).

[vii] ‘Law’ or legal system, in a legal anthropological sense, can be defined as “the totality of legal phenomena generated and maintained in a given social unit” (F. von Benda-Beckmann, 1997: 8). This definition becomes less abstract when it is made to include the social structures (institutions) generating and implementing rules. Along these lines, Hoekema (1998/1999: 269) provides a definition of law which better serves the purpose of this paper: “the norms of social life in a particular community that are applied, changed, maintained and sanctioned by officials who have the institutionalized position to fulfil this task”.

[viii] Hoekema (1998: 61 and 1998/1999: 269-270) distinguishes between unitarian and egalitarian versions of official legal pluralism. Official legal pluralism can be unitarian in the sense that no infringement has been made on the highest authority of the state as to decide whether and, if so, under what conditions and for how long it is still opportune to place the law and authority (legal order) of particular communities on an equal footing with the dominant legal order. In that case, the official status of legal orders other than that of the state could simply be dissolved by governmental decree. In contrast, as a more solid form, the egalitarian version of official legal pluralism would entail that the pluricultural and multinational (multiethnic) character of the state has been constitutionally acknowledged and that laws, decrees and actual policies have been promulgated to start carry these provisions into effect, whereby - in many cases - a Constitutional Court has been established to discipline governmental agencies to uphold these values. In this case, the (national) government would find it quite difficult to unilaterally modify or revoke this system. However, it must be noted that in reality a truly egalitarian version of official legal pluralism cannot exist, since governments will always retain the possibility to supercede local legal orders in matters of overriding national interest. To escape these powers is to secede from the state and proclaim independence. Hoekema considers Colombia’s version of official legal pluralism to be egalitarian.

[ix] With respect to nations, coexist means to ‘exist in mutual tolerance though professing different ideologies’ (Concise Oxford Dictionary, 1995)

[x] The work of Perafán and his colleagues has been criticized for imposing a framework of concepts and categories of positivist law on indigenous legal orders, thereby decontextualizing them from their cultural environments (Morales, 1995; in Assies, 2000: 13). I must agree, since recontextualizing all the little pieces of information concerning communal land tenure – which were spread out over all the different juristic categories (and very often tucked away somewhere in obscure footnotes) – to compose one coherent description was a laborious and time-consuming process.

[xi] Páez is the name of another indigenous people, with a total population of 118,845 persons actually the second largest in Colombia (Arango & Sánchez, 1998: 116).

[xii] Silvia is Colombia’s third largest municipality in which the indigenous population constitutes a majority (Ibid.).

[xiii] Ulluco (Ullucus tuberosus) and arracacha (Arracacia xanthoriza) are tuber crops.

13 Literally translated from Spanish, this word signifies ‘a certain number of nearby localities situated along the same [path or] road’ (María Moliner Spanish Dictionary, 1998). Kloosterman (1997: 27) translates it as ‘a valley in between two natural rifts’. Guambía used to comprise 20 veredas, but nowadays there are 40 due to political subdivisions, land reform policies and the process of reclaiming land outside the resguardo territory (recuperaciones).

[xv] The several alcaldes were formerly appointed by the governor. Since the 1980s, these functionaries are elected by the inhabitants of each vereda (Perafán, Azcárate & Zea, 1996: 199).

[xvi] Perafán, Azcárate & Zea (1996: 261) contend that the cabildo often succeeds in assembling 1,500 persons. Considering the fact that there are somewhat less than 3,000 (nuclear) Guambiano families living in the resguardo (calculated with a population of 17,000 and an average of 5.8 persons per family – Pachón, 1987: 242), it seems that this can be considered quite a reasonable attendance.

[xvii] In addition, Ambaló and Totoró (Guambiano) are mixed up in a permanent dispute of their own.

[xviii] Before the constitutional process a guerrilla group and since 1990 a political party.

[xix] It is unclear whether they also consider other indigenous groups as ‘polig’.

[xx] Outside the resguardo, disparities of access to land are more pronounced.

[xxi] This illicit form of agricultural production is not restricted to Guambía. It has also been observed in the neighboring Páez resguardo Pitayó (Field, 1996: 112 ff.: compare with Perafán, 1999: 18-37). Field argues that these farmers are acting out their inability to find the means to survive as Indians (Guambiano or Páez) within the confines of the legitimate economy. They are doing so despite the constant threat of violence between state and anti-state forces (Field, 1996: 116).