Adenilson da Silva Nascimento, a 54-year-old indigenous man better known as Pinduca Tumpinambá, grew up and lived his entire life in his village in the region known as Serra desTempes, Olivença, in the northeastern Brazilian state of Bahia. This year, on the first of May, he was returning from a day’s work fishing with his wife and two of his six children – a one-year-old baby and a girl of 15 — when they were ambushed by three armed, hooded men who instantly killed Pinduca. His wife Zenaildes shielded the baby with her body and received serious gunshot wounds to her leg and back. Their daughter fled through the forest, maintaining cell phone contact with members of the village, who called the authorities.

The indigenous leader María Valdelice, better known as Jamapoti Tumpinambá, says that this is not the first time something like this has happened. She says it all has to do with their indigenous lands and the people interested in them. “There have been more than 29 indigenous killed in just three regions of Tumpinambá lands in the state of Bahía, between 2013 and 2015. The government bears responsibility because they have not delineated our lands and there are people claiming these lands for themselves,” Jamapoti told the Americas Program.

Two days later, in another village named Pambú, which belongs to the Tumabalalá people in the municipality of Arabé, a 40-year-old indigenous man named Gilmar Alves da Silva, was hit by a car while he was returning home on his motorcycle. Then, while he was on the ground, he was shot several times. Gilmar was able to tell part of the story himself; he had strength to return to his village by motorcycle, but died soon after.

This made three murders in a two-week time period from late April to early May, all with the same modus operandi. Eusébio Ka’apor, from the Alto Turiaçu indigenous territory, in the state of Maranhão, was assassinated April 26; he was shot in the back.

The Consejo Indigenista Misionario [Indigenous Missionary Council of the Brazilian Catholic Bishops’ Conference, or CIMI] issued an immediate response, declaring that “Based on our evaluation, the cowardly attacks that led to the deaths of Eusebius Ka’apor on April 26 in the state of Maranhão; Adenilson da Silva Nascimento, on Tupinambá territory on May 1; and Gilmar Alves da Silva, on Tumbalalá lands on May 3, in the state of Bahía, are not isolated incidents. This is a case of selected serial killings of indigenous leaders and the indigenous peoples of Brazil.”

CIMI also maintains that these assassinations are linked to the racist discourse of members of the National Congress, specifically the congressional faction known as “ruralists,” who have paralyzed the process of demarcation of indigenous lands and openly favor transnational corporations.

In Brazil — the largest country in Latin America, Agrarian Reform comes down to one law, No. 4.504, passed during the military dictatorship (1964-1985). Among other provisions, it states: “Agrarian reform is the set of measures designed to promote the best distribution of land, through modifications to the law governing its possession and use, to comply with the principles of social justice and increase productivity.”

According to CIMI’s records, the assassinations of indigenous people in Brazil have occurred over several governments. In the administration of  Fernando Enrique Cardoso (1995 – 1998 and 1999 – 2002) 167 assassinations of indigenous persons were registered. During the administration of Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva (2003 – 2006 and 2007 – 2010) the number of assassinations rose to 452. In 2011, President Dilma Rousseff’s first year in office, 51 killings were recorded, and in 2012 there were 57 more.

Distribution for whom?

In reality, land distribution in this country seems to be only for the agro-industrial and real-estate sectors. According to the National Institute on Agrarian Reform (INCRA), in 2007 and 2008 the concentration of land owned by foreign capital, most of it from the United States and Europe, increased by 12 kilometers a day. In 2010, this represented an accumulation of more than 4.5 million hectares, concentrated in the states of São Paulo, Bahía, Minas Gerais and Mato Grosso. Added to this are the vast extensions of territory that the federal government grants to mining, petroleum, clean energy, and other interests – all in the name of economic growth.

More than 60 percent of the nation’s lands are public, but they not officially delineated and registered as public patrimony. Instead they are often informally occupied by private owners, even as the government says there is no land for Agrarian Reform. But there is land for sugar cane, eucalyptus, soy,” says Nadia Akauã of the indigenous Tucú village. “Agro-toxins are driving out indigenous communities, because they are being poisoned. Not a single government project takes indigenous people into consideration.”

“We no longer believe in the government because it is all set to have Congress approve congressional amendment PEC-215, which denies our right, our ancestry, and our spirituality. The government is already dominated by the multinational soy, eucalyptus, and corn industries. The ruralist caucus in Congress has no interest in meeting the needs of Brazilian society; on the contrary, they want more growth and they either order us to be killed or they send in the police and the military,” Ytajibá Souza, one of the indigenous leaders of Tucum village, told the Americas Program.

In reference to the distribution of lands for agroindustry, the ecological economist Joan Martínez Alier, in his article Sudamérica: el triunfo del post extractivismo en el 2015, refers to neoliberal and progressive countries that persist in promoting primary exports to the point of saying that in order to have less extraction of raw materials, there has to be more. Martínez said that a ton of raw materials that is imported has always been more expensive than a ton that is exported, even at the height of the boom in the price of prime materials “… Peru, Brazil and Colombia export, in tons, much more than they import, and they can’t even pay for their imports,” says Martínez Alier.

In 2012 the organization GRAIN reported on an investigation of the intermediaries for multinational corporations in the countries where the most land grabbing is taking place. To cite just one example, in Brazil José Minaya, general manager of the Teachers Insurance & Annuity Association – College Retirement Equities Fund (TIAA-CREF) in the United States, has seen to it that the retirement savings and investments of U.S. professors are channeled into the expansion of sugar cane, among other projects in Brazil. Sugar cane, along with other types of plantations, is characterized by the use of slave labor, destruction of ecosystems, and theft of indigenous lands. According to GRAIN’s report, 3 percent of the population of Brazil own nearly two-thirds of arable land.

Thus, the assassination of Adenilson is not an isolated situation, Carlos José F. Santos an indigenous professor at the State University of Santa Cruz (UESC), insists.

“It is important to point out that Pinduca was an indigenous leader respected for his clarity about our rights, about our indigenous way of thinking that is contrary to the interests of the ruralists —owners of vast expanses of land— about capitalists and predatory development. This made many people uncomfortable",

SANTOS TOLD THE AMÉRICAS PROGRAM.

“People from NGOs and the government have come to talk about REDD [Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation program, the platform for a market for the exchange of carbon credits, or pollution permits, by the world’s corporations that produce carbon dioxide emissions] and protected areas, but we are careful, because there is always something else going on behind the scenes. Without these programs, we are taking care of our Mother Earth. Moreover, we know how to take care of her and do our own monitoring; the government has no reason to get involved,” Ytajibá said.

Another form of concentration of land ownership in Brazil has taken place through ecological colonialism, where land is granted by means of national and transnational agreements to non-governmental organizations (NGOs) to be administered by them. These organizations include the Canadian International Development Organization (CIDA); Ford Foundation, Club 1001; Both Ends; Survival International; Conservation International (CI); Inter-American Foundation; MacArthur Foundation; Rockefeller Foundation; W. Alton Jones Foundation; World Wildlife Foundation; Summer Linguistics Institute (SIL); National Wildlife Federation (NWF) ; The Nature Conservancy; European Working Group on Amazonia (EWIC); and International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). These organizations, among others, have interfered in regional and federal planning for the conservation of areas denominated as Protected Areas, where speculation takes place with so-called carbon credits – designed to allow countries or industries from wealthy countries to continue to pollute while other countries, such as Brazil, conserve their ecosystems – that directly affect indigenous communities.

The Tumpinambá no longer expect anything from the state

The National Indian Foundation (FUNAI), in an anthropological report about the ancestral lands of the Tupinambá, acknowledged the presence of at least 4,700 members of the Tupinambá indigenous group, concentrated in at least 23 communities between the mountains and the coast in the state of Bahia. In the same study, the FUNAI acknowledged that more than 47,000 hectares are Tupinambá lands.

Nevertheless, the Brazilian government has failed to officially recognize these lands as belonging to the Tupinambá. Since 2004 , several Tupinambá villages have reclaimed for themselves at least 80 percent of the territory officially recognized by the FUNAI report. The Tupinambá are one of the few indigenous peoples of Brazil who have dared to demarcate their borders on their own and occupy those lands. They have expelled ranchers, landowners and others who had power over enormous amounts of land, some of which were destined to become tourist complexes with luxury hotels and restaurants.

According to Itajubá, one of the oldest leaders of the indigenous village Tukum and a teacher of the Tupinambá language, “We already waited too long and don’t intend to wait any longer; this is the territory of our ancestors and if the minister does not demarcate our lands, we’ll do it ourselves; we’re not afraid.”

Arson

Meanwhile, on May 7 in the village of Patiburi, in Belmonte, when everyone was harvesting their cacao, two houses were set on fire, along with part of their plantings. According to a CIMI report, these actions against the village of Patiburi have intensified since the end of 2013, when the delimitation of territorial borders and the reports of the FUNAI studies were published in the Diario Oficial del Estado [Federal Gazette].

“The government had an opportunity to directly negotiate with us, and I think that opportunity is over. Because we can already see that we don’t have a space for dialogue, and because decisions are made without consulting anyone. And our young people have to prepare for a new moment of struggle. Because we have the time of our rituals, of planting and harvest, but we also have the time of war. If we don’t die, we cannot be born anew, and if they do not want to establish those borders, we will occupy and we will fight to the point of offering our lives to the spirits — our ancestors — if it’s necessary,” insisted Nadia Akauã.

Indigenous leaders from the five regions of Brazil traveled for days to an encampment convoked by the Coordinating Body of Brazil's indigenous people (APIB), which took place from April 13 to 16 in the federal district in Brasilia. The district is both a geographical center and a center of power in Brazil, as it is where the three branches of government are headquartered.

For four days and three nights, more than 1,500 indigenous individuals filled one of the gardens in front of the National Congress with colors, music and rituals. Their principal objective was to put pressure on the three branches of government so that the proposed constitutional amendment No. 215 - better known as the PEC 215/2000 - is not passed. This amendment, among other things, would transfer the decision-making power of demarcation of indigenous territories to Brazil's legislative branch. Currently, this type of legal-political decision is in the hands of the executive branch.

Within Brazil's Congress, there is a faction known as the "Rural Legislators," a group of legislators who have transferred jurisdiction over private multinational companies to the legislative branch. Of the 50 members of Congress that make up the special commission that will review the proposed constitutional amendment, PEC 215/2000, at least 20 financed their electoral campaigns with support from big farming, mining and energy firms, as well as from the forestry sector and banks. Among the members of the Rural Legislators group is Agriculture Minister Katia Abreu, a business owner and fierce defender of big agriculture businesses. Another is Luis Carlos Heinze, one of the leaders of the group, who is also the president of the Parliamentary Farming Front (FPA). In 2014, a lawsuit was brought against him by indigenous organizations because he encouraged industrial farmers to use armed guards in order to forcibly remove indigenous people from their land.

Those who attended the protest dressed in their traditional attire as leaders and sages of the community and painted their faces with vibrant vegetable-based paints of red, yellow and black. Some smoked tobacco; others prepared their bows and arrows. It was a moment to take to the streets and deliver a letter signed by all of the groups present at the encampment, addressed to President Dilma Rousseff, urging her to approve and sign a bill that is still within her power regarding 20 indigenous territories. They also reminded her of her commitment, expressed to indigenous groups during her presidential campaign in an open letter in 2014, where she pledged not to change the constitution and to move ahead with demarcating indigenous lands.

"During her presidential campaign, she [Dilma Rousseff] committed to demarcating indigenous territory in Brazil. Today, we see that indigenous people are moving toward complete disappearance," said Francisco da Silva, an indigenous Kapinawá leader from the state of Pernambuco. "If she herself does not honor her own words and the constitution, the only thing left for us to do is for us to demarcate our own territories and to defend our ancestral lands ourselves, because if we do nothing, this law will leave us in the hands of the multinational corporations."

While the encampment was underway in Brasilia, Rousseff was asked by various media outlets in an April 15 press conference about those who were protesting. Her response attempted to discredit the presence of the indigenous groups. She affirmed that the discussion regarding indigenous rights in her administration is "systematic," and stated that "there is no unified indigenous movement; the question regarding indigenous movements is not singular; it is diverse."

"Having declared that, [Rousseff] committed a grave error in her discourse, because we are here with representatives of the five regions of the country, with more than 200 different indigenous groups represented," said Sonia Guajajara, an indigenous woman from the state of Maranhao in northeast Brazil.

The military police were constantly present, protecting the headquarters of Brazil's three branches of government from the indigenous protesters. (Photo: Santiago Navarro F.)

Dried Up Dialogue

The indigenous leader Babau Tupinamba, leader of one of the best-organized groups in Brazil, who live with a high degree of self-sufficiency, readily affirmed that indigenous people need to prepare themselves for a more radical, even violent struggle. "I said in the Congress that we have returned to colonial times. And we, as the Tupinamba, the first people to confront the colonizers in the year 1500, today we call on all indigenous people to prepare themselves for a confrontation. And if it is necessary, we will even form a guerrilla force if this law is not rejected," he told Truthout.

Babau knows that his words carry a heavy weight and extreme responsibility, but argues that what is at risk are the lives of the indigenous people who are being assassinated by the owners of industrial farms. "We as indigenous people are pacifists; we have no desire to have a confrontation; we just want our lands. But with these types of decisions, they are pushing us to a point of rebellion. If we don't have another option and they continue like this - there are 102 proposals in Congress against indigenous people - we will have to form a guerrilla, because we are not going to let them force us off our ancestral lands; we refuse to leave. Because an indigenous person without land is no longer indigenous."

The PEC 215 bill is just one of the many violations of the human rights of indigenous people in Brazil. "There is no community right now that is not suffering the impacts of a capitalist project. Behind the impetus for this law are the interests of Monsanto, Nestlé, Syngenta, Cargill and other corporations that want to take our lands. They are the same ones that promote the killing of indigenous people," Rootsi Tsitna, an indigenous person from the state of Mato Grosso do Sul, told Truthout.

All indigenous groups have suffered violations of their human rights. "There are hundreds of projects in indigenous communities and none of them consulted the people. They are violating the 1988 constitution, which came at the cost of a lot of blood, and the United Nation's International Labor Convention 169, which establishes the requirement of previous consultation of indigenous people. We should not have to negotiate anything, because they are our lands and it is our right [to be here]," said da Silva, the indigenous man from Pernambuco.

Allies?

Not only indigenous groups worry about the PEC 215 bill. Organizations such as the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) have also expressed concern, since the amendment would also affect protected natural areas in the country. However, theirs contrasts with the position of several indigenous groups that have been affected by their politics. As an example, in 2011, the Maggi Group sold for the first time 85,000 tons of its "responsible soy," with the "green label" given by the WWF, through a program of "environmental certification" in collaboration with Bunge, Cargill, Monsanto, Nestlé, Syngenta, Unilever and other corporations that have been connected to the forcible removal of indigenous people from their lands in Brazil and various countries around the world.

Some political figures came to visit the indigenous encampment as supposed allies, such as ex-presidential candidate Marina Silva. She is an honorary member of the International Union for Nature Conservation (UICN) and a defender of the conservation policies promoted by the WWF and other nongovernmental organizations that promote national parks, natural protected areas, peace parks, cross-border parks, sanctuaries and green market policies such as carbon credits.

"There are many politicians who have come to talk with us, above all during election season, but all that we want is the demarcation of our territories," an indigenous Cayapo individual from the town of Xingu in Mato Grosso do Sul told Truthout. He argues that carbon credits are another way to remove them from their land. "We have seen the experiences of the Suruí people, who accepted the REDD and its carbon credits and conservation projects. They can no longer hunt, grow crops or use materials they need for celebrations and rituals," he said. "We know how to take care of nature because she is our mother and we don't want another carbon credit agreement, because it is just another way of removing us from our sacred lands."

At the encampment, indigenous Mundurukus denounce plans to build the biggest hydroelectric dam in Brazil on the Tapajós River, which would lead to the disappearance of the Munduruku people. The presence of armed forces has been the only signal of dialogue thus far. (Photo: Santiago Navarro F.)

Indian Day?

During the encampment, the indigenous leaders appeared in the House of Representatives and the Senate several times, not just to deliver their signed letter, but to express their discontent and their rage. The response was that PEC 215 will not be voted on, but neither will it be archived, which left the indigenous representatives unconvinced.

On the encampment's last day, April 16, Congress' doors were opened in a tribute to the indigenous representatives in honor of "Indian Day." Due to security issues, only 500 out of 700 in attendance were allowed entrance. The mayor did not attend the event.

Indigenous leader Marcos Xucuru expressed his anger and said that little should be expected of the government and political parties; what remains is the necessity of taking their land and assuming the consequences. "Our fight will continue and we are going to demarcate our lands ourselves. And if necessary, we will fight like the Tupinamba, who have confronted the federal police and the military and we will force them to leave our territory. As indigenous leaders, we are willing to give our lives for our Enchanted Ones - our ancestors - and for nature," Xucuru told Truthout.

Babau says that it is the government that will be held responsible if the genocide continues in his country. "We call upon all indigenous people all over the world, who are the only ones who understand us, to pay attention to what will happen. Because the government had the opportunity to negotiate with us, but the dialogue is drying up," he said. "We will offer our lives if necessary, but we will not let them take away our lands."

Published in ⇒ Truthout

The extreme south of the state of Bahia in northeastern Brazil is a region of intense conflict over indigenous lands. A judge asked Rosivaldo Ferreira da Silva, a leader from the indigenous Babau tribe, about the actions the Tupinamba are taking in order to recover their ancestral lands from the hands of rich landowners.

The extreme south of the state of Bahia in northeastern Brazil is a region of intense conflict over indigenous lands. A judge asked Rosivaldo Ferreira da Silva, a leader from the indigenous Babau tribe, about the actions the Tupinamba are taking in order to recover their ancestral lands from the hands of rich landowners.

“You said that your Enchanted One – the spirit of the ancestors of the Tupinamba – ordered you to take back your lands and that you will not return them, even if that means you have to die in a confrontation with the police,” the judge said. Da Silva responded: “Exactly.”

The judge, trying to change the idea that he had proposed, said, “But we can propose something that can mediate this situation. We can offer a basket of basic goods to families, something that they can live off of.”

Da Silva, indignant, responded, “We the Tupinamba, this is how we are, judge. If food is lacking in our homes, we will eat wild plants; we will eat what the land gives us; we are not going to ask for anything from anyone. Because then we would be allowing others to govern our lives.”

The Tupinamba were the first indigenous people to form a front against the Portuguese invasion in 1500 in Brazil. They are a great warrior people whose organizational structure uses tactics and strategies of war based on their worldview. In 2004, they started a process to recover their lands.

“Our goal was to stop deforestation. All the rivers would return to their natural pathways; nature would be laughing with happiness.”

The government body, the National Indian Foundation (FUNAI), recognized in its studies that the Tupinamba possess over 47,000 hectares of land, but the government still hasn’t authorized the demarcation of this territory. This is in violation of Article 169 of the International Labor Organization, which establishes their right to “the consultation and participation of indigenous peoples and tribes to decide their own priorities for the process of development as it affects their lives, beliefs, institutions and spiritual well-being and the lands they occupy or otherwise use, and to exercise control over their economic, social and cultural development, including the right to land and the use of natural resources found in their traditional lands.”

Even after having received only silence as a response from the government, the indigenous Tupinamba have recovered a good part of their land. They are one of the few indigenous groups in Brazil that has dared to self-demarcate their borders and occupy them at the same time. They reclaimed huge properties that were in the hands of landowners; they took over fresh water springs; they took over abandoned houses. In the community of Serra do Padeiro alone, close to 70 properties were taken over.

“We drove out the landowners who were deforesting and who did not need the land to live on because they have houses elsewhere. And the people that need a place to live, the small producers, will stay with us,” da Silva told Truthout. “Our goal was to stop deforestation; our motto is zero deforestation. All the rivers would return to their natural pathways; nature would be laughing with happiness; the animals would come back,” he added.

The reaction to all of this quickly became systematic and relentless. In 2008, police made their first large-scale attack in Serra do Padeiro. They invaded the Tupinamba territory with two helicopters, 130 agents and heavy vehicles. They said that they wanted to stop da Silva, but they didn’t have an arrest warrant. “It was a day of war. For an entire day, they had fun with us and we with them,” joked da Silva. “The fight for the Tupinamba is not an affront; we are children of war. The thing is that they want a war, but with a group that doesn’t know how to fight; they want us to sit back and cross our arms.”

Brazil’s Defense Ministry published a manual that encourages the use of military force to guarantee “public security.”

“They believed that we were going to flee, but this didn’t happen. When they came in and began to attack, our answer was to use slingshots and stones and we used the strategy of isolating them. The Enchanted Ones prohibited us from using bows and arrows; they said that these people aren’t ready for war with the Tupinamba, and in addition it isn’t in our best interest to cause a single casualty. They came onto our land without asking permission and afterward they couldn’t leave. And when the final day came, they were desperate and called for reinforcements, and only then were they able to remove the barricades that we put up in the roads.”

There’s interest in Tupinamba land from large-scale landowners and producers, such as the owners of the luxury tourist complexes that have been built in this territory, like the Hotel Fazenda da Lagao, with investors such as Arthur Bahia and Arminio Fraga. Fraga is a naturalized US citizen and former president of the Brazilian Central Bank. He is also an ex-member of the World Bank, and affirms that there are no indigenous people in the region, and that there are only opportunists who want to steal the land from the rightful owners.

Meanwhile, in President Dilma Rousseff’s new term, she has chosen to fill top positions with figures like businesswoman, rancher and senator, Katia Abreu, who is currently the head of the Ministry of Agriculture. Abreu is one of the main defenders of the coalition in Brazil’s Congress that is defending national and multinational agribusinesses in Brazil, which maintain a strong offensive against indigenous towns.

The FUNAI recognized the presence of no less than 4,700 Tupinamba people, concentrated in at least 23 communities, between the mountains and the coast of the state of Bahia – an area that extends from the Serra do Padeiro to the coast of Olivença and is immersed in the tropical jungle of the Mata Atlântica. The communities are distributed across two regions: the forest Tupinamba and those of the coast, and each town has its own leader.

Militarization of the Tupinamba Territory

In mid-February 2014, at the request of Jaques Wagner, then-governor of the state of Bahia and currently Brazil’s defense minister, the president signed an authorization from the federal government so that the army could enter into the territory of the Tupinamba in southern Bahia. Federal authorities were given permission to finish their incursion in one month, but it still continues today.

A month before, in January 2014, agents from the National Public Security Forces and the Federal Police built a base in the town of Serra do Padeiro. From that moment, the indigenous people have been constantly monitored and some of the land has been violently reintegrated into the territory belonging to big landholders.

“It is a strategy, because the landowners in the region want to kill me, along with the military”

These measures were taken after the Brazilian Ministry of Defense published a manual titled “How to guarantee law and order,” on December 20, 2013. It is a manual that encourages the use of military force in order to guarantee “public security.” It also enumerates the ways in which enemies are categorized, beginning with individuals and groups to organizations and social movements that are considered “oppositional forces,” emphasizing those that act in violation of “public order or security.”

Haroldo Heleno, from the Indigenous Missionary Council (CIMI), in the state of Bahia, tells Truthout that the indigenous Tupinamba, in the process of self-demarcating and taking back their land, have suffered a constant campaign of criminalization. They have been written off as criminals, as invaders and as homeless. CIMI reported that the 2008 attack by the Federal Police in the town of Serra do Padeiro included more than 130 agents, two helicopters and 30 patrol cars. Twenty-two indigenous people were wounded by rubber bullets and gas bombs, and houses, community vehicles, food and school equipment were destroyed.

War Fire

A low fire burns inside a tree trunk until it turns to ash; it’s a fire that should be burning at all times, even on rainy days. It is the light of the Tupinamba ancestors; it is the center of the town; it is there where the ancestors made the most important decisions in the community, like when to go to war. Fernanda Barbosa Silva, who teaches the Tupinamba language to both indigenous and non-indigenous children in the community of Serra do Padeiro, told Truthout, “Here is where we have our planting ceremonies. Here we ask our Enchanted Ones to illuminate our paths. It is the fire of the Tupinamba people, our spiritual sustenance.”

The concept of war in the West is different than that of indigenous people. In Western war, the objective is to repress or destroy the enemy, and, in doing so, stop everything that stands in the way of private property. “Collective land ownership is the womb of crime and of the insurgency and because of that we must destroy it. There is no peace without private property,” says Geoffrey B. Demarest. Demarest is a researcher, former military member and graduate of the School of the Americas, which is administered by the US military, and was founded in 1946 in Panama with the objective of training Latin American soldiers in war and counterinsurgency techniques.

Serra do Padeiro is completely self-sufficient. It produces its own food in a system similar to agroecology.

Currently, Demarest is an ideologue and intellectual who is part of the so-called Bowman Expeditions, which are advancing across Central and South America and other countries where collective property ownership exists. The principal military objectives are to reach indigenous towns, in order to incorporate their territories into the model of private property, either through force or agreements.

For “us,” da Silva told Truthout, “this war is for life, in order to take care of our Enchanted Ones, which is to say, our ancestors that inhabit the forest and the mountains, who also take care of us and protect us. We, the Tupinamba, are not allowed to kill anyone; we are not interested in that.”

Low-intensity warfare, or irregular warfare, according to US military doctrine, says, “instead of formal military conflict, we are witnessing a series of ‘irregular’ wars: terrorism, guerrilla insurgencies, resistance movements, asymmetrical insurgencies and conflicts in general, which must be attacked with all means necessary.”

The indigenous Zapatista movement in Mexico calls it a war of “comprehensive fatigue,” a war strategy that uses paramilitary units, paid mercenaries and public political programs in order to contain or reduce the support of the social bases for resistance movements that have been labeled as terrorists or insurgents.

Persecution

After an arrest warrant was issued by a judge in February 2014 in southern Bahia, the indigenous Babau leader decided to turn himself in. After doing so, da Silva argued that the Tupinamba do not run away. According to the arrest warrant, he was accused of having ordered the murder of a farmer in the region. “It is a strategy, because the landowners in the region want to kill me, along with the military,” he said. Five days after turning himself in, after a preliminary decision by Brazil’s Supreme Court, he was freed.

In 2009, the arrest of one of da Silva’s brothers was registered, along with five other indigenous individuals who were also tortured by the Federal Police. And that was how in the successive years, until 2014, da Silva was arrested for a variety of crimes that his accusers have never been able to prove.

Attacks on Autonomy

“We and nature are one; we are one with our ancestry,” da Silva told Truthout. “Here you will not find a woman abused by her partner, children abused by their parents; you will not find people marrying one another for fun. If we want to have an animal close to us, we put food in the door of the house, and it will come to eat close to us.”

Serra do Padeiro is completely self-sufficient. It produces its own food in a system similar to agroecology, and the excesses are sold.

“The police started to make incursions into our towns in the planting season. The objective was to ruin our harvest.”

“In order to know when to plant, we observe the moon, the time of the rains, if the wind from the east is going to pass through our crops. Do you know how to recognize the wind from the east? Look there, you are looking at that tree, the one with the dry leaf tips. The wind from the east passes there. It is a sorrowful wind that brings sickness to plants and people; it is strong; it is powerful. So you must recognize the paths where this wind blows and stay away from it. You cannot stay in the path of that which does not want to be interrupted, so that is why we pay a lot of attention,” da Silva said.

The Tupinamba have celebrations all year long; their land is very productive. They grow cacao, coffee, bananas, manioc and a large variety of fruits and vegetables. Every time a party is held, there is food in abundance and everyone is invited to participate. It is striking how, despite the constant closeness of danger, they continue to smile.

“We export cacao, but we do not worry about producing in order to sell. First we eat, we are happy, and that is our concern. And what is left over we sell in order to buy the extra things that we need,” Maria da Gloria de Jesus told Truthout. She is 50 years old and planted 40,000 pineapple plants by herself. She also received the impact of a rubber bullet in the chest by the Federal Police in one of their offenses in the territory. “Agroecology is nothing more than indigenous knowledge, a circular understanding, that has a relationship with the animals of the forest, the birds, even the smallest of insects,” de Jesus said.

The food sovereignty of the Tupinamba was put at risk in 2007, after a series of attempts to try and undermine the sustainability the indigenous people had attained. “We perceived that the police started to make incursions into our towns in the planting season, between the months of May and August. We live off of what we plant, so the objective was to ruin our harvest,” da Silva said. “But they were not able to affect us.”

Historical Context of the Tupinamba

According to the document created in 2006 by the Ministry of Education and UNESCO, the ethnologist Curt Nimuendaju demonstrated in his ethnohistorical map the existence of more than 1,400 indigenous groups in “discovered” territories in Brazil since 1500. They were peoples with huge linguistic diversity: Tupi-Guarani, Ge, Carib, Arawak, Xiriana and Tucan, to name a few. They also had a great geographical diversity and diverse forms of social organization. Julian Steward, in the book Handbook of South American Indians, calculated that more than 1.5 million indigenous people lived in Brazil; and William Denevan projected the existence of almost 5 million indigenous people in the Amazon alone.

Following the data gathered by the Education Ministry’s document, the Tupinamba people were present across the state of Bahia, the lower Amazon in the northeast coast, almost to the state of Sao Paulo. The most significant loss of life suffered by indigenous people resulted from the war of suppression and destruction that drove out thousands of indigenous people, according to the document, but above all, was due to the introduction of illnesses such as smallpox, measles and tuberculosis, which quickly decimated entire peoples. This was described in the writings of the Jesuit priest Jose de Anchieta, who was present for part of the historical context during the 1500s.

We Are All Tupinamba

According to the accounts of Maria da Gloria, mother of the chief indigenous Babau Tupinamba, during the Portuguese colonization, the indigenous people welcomed slaves who had fled from plantations or sugar factories. “That explains why some Tupinamba towns are mixed to this day; all of us are Tupinamba. We have our knowledge that is alive, our customs and our traditions. It is a different form of life than that of the white people. But the government uses this to say that the Tupinamba people are in extinction. We say that no! We are alive; these are the lands of our ancestors and they are priceless,” he said.

Chaos

“Our Enchanted Ones tell us about what is going to happen in the world and what we have to do to protect ourselves. If we have to go to war, it will be to the end. We want to guarantee our lands as quickly as possible because the world is going to enter into a period of total chaos,” da Silva said. “In the future, the indigenous lands will be the only places where one can go to interact with nature. So we are not going to wait for the demarcation of the state: These are our ancestral lands and we are the only ones that know them, because we belong to the Tupinamba land.”