If you want to travel to and from the Rupununi, a savannah in the south of Guyana, then you’ll have to hitch a ride on a passing four-by-four, a tractor, or a motorcycle.
“It’s not like you have taxis or buses that run in the area,” said Tony James, a Wapichan indigenous leader from the Rupununi region. “When it comes to transportation, you take whatever you can get.”
Tony James is the democratically elected vice president of Guyana’s Amerindian Peoples Association, a native-led organization that represents Guyana’s nine indigenous nations. He is an elder and throughout the country he is known as Chief Kokoi—a Wapichan word that means harpy eagle. To friends and family, he is simply Chief.
If you want to travel to and from the Rupununi, a savannah in the south of Guyana, then you’ll have to hitch a ride on a passing four-by-four, a tractor, or a motorcycle.
“It’s not like you have taxis or buses that run in the area,” said Tony James, a Wapichan indigenous leader from the Rupununi region. “When it comes to transportation, you take whatever you can get.”
Tony James is the democratically elected vice president of Guyana’s Amerindian Peoples Association, a native-led organization that represents Guyana’s nine indigenous nations. He is an elder and throughout the country he is known as Chief Kokoi—a Wapichan word that means harpy eagle. To friends and family, he is simply Chief.
In May, Chief traveled from his community in the hinterlands—Guyana’s forested interior— to New York City to attend the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues.
The rainy season had already begun in Guyana when Chief set out in mid-May. That meant vehicles scarcely passed down the uneven dirt roads that lead out of the Rupununi; When they did, their tires often got stuck in the tropical muck. When Chief arrived in Georgetown, Guyana’s capital, about five days later to catch his flight, he was bruised and covered in dirt. No matter—he still had plenty of energy at the United Nations to describe how Guyana’s insatiable thirst for gold is drying up the country’s savannahs and tropical forests.
“I came here to tell my story and describe what is happening in indigenous communities in Guyana,” Chief said.
I met Chief in 2007 while working at a D.C. -based environmental non-profit. Through working with him, I came to consider Chief not only as a colleague and friend, but also as a mentor for his unwavering commitment to indigenous human rights and environmental protection. Over the years, Guyanese government officials have tried to concession off his ancestral territory to mining and logging companies, as well as put Wapichan land into incentive-based carbon market programs like REDD+ without respecting indigenous peoples right of self-determination, rights to lands, territories, and natural resources. But Chief has never watched on as an idle bystander: He always fights back through community organizing and international advocacy.
On May 21, I met up with Chief at his sister’s house in Long Island for a traditional Guyanese rice dish called cook up, flaky roti bread, BBQ, and a good conversation.
Here’s what we chatted about.
What’s happening in Guyana?
Extractive interests—like mining and logging—have just been intensifying, not only in my community, but in other communities throughout the country as well. Just before I came to New York this month, I heard that in Region 10 [of Guyana] indigenous communities had built a roadblock to keep a Russian company from entering their territories. There’s a lot of foreign interest in our lands now. Our government supports [incentive-based] programs like REDD+ and the low carbon development strategy, and the pillar of those programs is a well-maintained forest. But at the same time, the government is encouraging extractive activities. It doesn’t make any sense.
On April 26, 127 land blocks containing about 100 acres each were slated for a lottery process for small and medium scale mining. We protested and were able to pressure the government to reverse the decision. However, the government representatives are back in the communities trying to swing people’s decisions. The thing is, we were never told about the lottery in advance so that we could make an informed decision about whether or not we wanted the mines, which were all located on Wapichan traditional land.
At these international forums, you hear very good reports about what governments are doing. But on the ground, it is not so, and that is why it is important for people like me to come out and say, ‘this is what’s really happening.’
Do you think your objectives for participating in the UNPFII have been met?
I think indigenous issues are becoming better known. From what I’ve heard, indigenous peoples are asserting more pressure on governments to respect indigenous rights to self determination. They’re putting pressure on organizations like the World Bank and questioning the safeguards these multinationals are using to protect indigenous peoples in their projects. And, for the first time at this UN level, I’ve heard more talk about indigenous peoples from indigenous peoples themselves.
But of course, there is limited space at the UN Permanent Forum, and a lot of participants work for government. There is never a level playing field for grass roots community leaders to come out and speak for their people. So, there is limited participation of the real leaders.
Have you seen evidence of climate change in your community?
We have seen changes in our communities for hundreds of years, and we have always adapted. But in recent times, these changes have intensified. In my area, for example, we’ve had more rainfall than anything else. The times of the year when fish go to spawn, certain flowers bloom, and animals have young ones are changing. It seems that there is confusion in all those things. Our hunting and farming traditions have to change as well.
We first started noticing changes 11 years ago, so the Wapichan mapped out all of our territory and developed a land management strategy so that we could plan for changes and continue to live off our land sustainably, as well as protect the resources we have.
There’s a lot of talk about sustainable development and climate change at these international meetings. I think a lot of people really do want to make a difference in these areas, so, what can we do?
If you really want to see or experience what sustainable development is, work with indigenous peoples. Put pressure on national governments to ensure that indigenous peoples are granted our traditional land because we have been practicing sustainability for centuries.
Sustainable development is not what people are talking about in all of these international meetings. Development can never be sustainable if it destroys waterways, biodiversity, forests, and the cultures of peoples. Programs like Reduction of Emissions from Deforestation and Degradation (REDD+) will never ever solve the climate problem unless you give the indigenous people legal recognition over the territories they occupy and use.
We don’t see our lands as a commercial item that can be sold for money; our land is more than money. It is our survival, our very existence. It is our obligation to leave our land healthy for the younger generations.
What is it mean to you to be chief?
I was elected into this position by Amerindian communities. I do not see my position as someone sitting on top giving orders. Instead, I’m the servant of the people: I work for them.