Many Latin American nations, including Argentina, Brazil and most notably Venezuela, have drifted left in recent years, electing leaders with unfavourable views towards the United States and skeptical opinions on the liberal economic policies it advocates.
Until last week, Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador, the populist mayor of Mexico City and the leading contender in next year's presidential election, stood poised to take Mexico in the same direction, capitalizing on discontent over years of meager economic growth and ineffective governance.
A four-member committee of federal deputies threw a potential roadblock in his path to power, recommending last Friday the mayor be stripped of his immunity from prosecution – a privilege enjoyed by most politicians – for his alleged tardiness in obeying a court order in a land expropriation case. Anyone facing criminal charges is
ineligible to pursue elected office. The Institutional Party of the Revolution (PRI)-dominated lower house of Congress votes on the recommendation later this week in a process known as desafuero(removing a privilege).
The emergence of a free-spending, left-leaning populist who could undo recent economic liberalization and stall necessary energy-sector reforms unsettles the Mexican business and political classes.
President Vicente Fox – himself ineligible to seek a second term in office – in an obvious reference to Lopez Obrador's populist tendencies, remarked: "Here come the messiahs who offer the earth and the sky … populists with magic recipes for everything.
"In the end they are only cheating people."
Emotions run high over the desafuero across Mexico. U.S. officials have even taken notice. CIA director Porter Goss cited unrest in Mexico resulting from a contentious 2006 election as a concern. President George W. Bush later clarified things, saying he would work with whoever was elected.
Since being elected in 2000, Lopez Obrador has spent generously on social programs and infrastructure projects, running up large budget deficits in the process. The Mexico City government now cuts each senior citizen a small cheque. To pacify the middle and upper classes, it constructed new viaducts to ease traffic gridlock. Large groups, bolstered by seniors and city employees, regularly flood the streets at Lopez Obrador's beckon, decrying legal and legislative verdicts against the mayor.
Aloof and tough to read, his antics confound many. He has made few policy announcements, spare expanding his social programs beyond the capital and keeping Pemex, the notoriously inefficient oil monopoly, in government hands. He lives in a modest apartment and drives a 1999 Nissan Sentra to work.
Lopez Obrador has accumulated enormous political capital and popularity through his governing style and enormous deficit spending. He currently tops virtually every opinion poll by at least ten points. In recent weeks, Mexicans have rallied across the Republic against the desafuero. Banners and pro-Lopez Obrador stickers blanket Mexico City. Even the Judas character in the country's biggest passion play (Easter
week re-enactments of Christ's crucifixion) wore an anti-desafuero ribbon.
Lopez Obrador's legal problems stem from land expropriated to build an access road to a hospital. He allegedly disregarded a court decision, ordering his government to address the original property owner's complaints. The attorney general has promised to charge Lopez Obrador the moment the mayor loses his immunity from prosecution.
For many Mexicans, the case against the mayor reeks of sleazy politics – especially in a country where many crimes go unsolved and justice is dispensed slowly. The desafuero also puts two of Mexico's major parties in awkward positions, appearing to sideline the presidential front-runner for purely political reasons.
The ironies are hard to ignore. The PRI, after decades of dirty tricks, now advocates enforcing the law. President Fox's National Action Party (PAN), which only recently toppled the PRI, is seen to be thwarting a rival. For Lopez Obrador's Democratic Party of the Revolution (PRD), it's falling short of power once again; it led the early returns in the 1988 election until a mysterious computer crash wiped out the results.
In the meantime, the desafuero has united the normally disparate PRD and buoyed the mayor's poll numbers.
Ultimately though, the campaign against Lopez Obrador could backfire.
If convicted, Lopez Obrador promised to campaign from behind bars, seemingly anxious to play a martyr's role. A spell in prison could work in his favour, making him a stronger and more sympathetic candidate.
Published in the Calgary Herald.
07 April 2005
21 March 2005
Hockey, Mexico-style: The Zamboni is broken, and the players are on strike. Sigh
David Agren
Citizen Special
GUADALAJARA, Mexico -- The old barn looks like something from the Canadian Prairies with its rounded roof and small ticket booth next to the front door. Inside, a sprinkling of fans shiver on the wooden bleachers, sipping coffee and eating doughnuts. Players in full equipment chase the puck up and down a dimly lit rink.
Welcome to Ice Land in Guadalajara, where turmoil over money plagues the local hockey scene -- just like in Canada. The four adult teams in Mexico's second-largest city packed up their skates and sticks two months ago to protest high rink fees and ice conditions that could charitably be described as horrible.
"The owner doesn't care about maintaining (the rink)," complains Omar Guzman, a defenceman in the recreational league and coach of the peewee and bantam teams here. "The Zamboni doesn't work properly."
The surface in Ice Land is carved to shreds. Puddles cover the back portions of the faceoff circles in the rink's south end. Tire marks from the Zamboni mar the centre ice area. Several feet before the end boards, the ice is a tangled mass of impassible shards. One corner lacks proper boards and glass is missing from behind one of the nets.
Although the rink is third-rate by Canadian standards, the rental fee is high. "It's expensive, Guzman explains. "If this was good, (the price) would be fine."Despite the actions of their adult peers, the peewee and bantam squads still practice on the substandard surface, providing Western Mexico's only live ice hockey fix.
At first glance, these guys resemble a decent Canadian house team. Take number 19: he looks like an average hockey player with his green Dallas Stars jersey, black CCM pants and and white helmet. But while leading a two-on-none break he fans on a pass, loses an edge and slides on his backside into a giant puddle behind the net. With the rink in a state of disrepair, the players move one of the nets 10 feet toward centre to avoid the mess. The puck jumps haphazardly over the players' sticks all practice long.
Obviously, not many youngsters take up ice hockey in soccer-mad Mexico. About 80 players, covering all age groups, skate regularly in Guadalajara, a city of almost five million people. A team from the city travelled to the famous Quebec International Peewee Tournament earlier this year, losing all of its games, including a 14-0 thrashing by a French squad.
Guzman, 25, has suited up for Mexico in several lower-tier world championship tournaments. The team finished in last place on one occasion and near the bottom the rest of the time.
"We have good players," he contends, but the team needs "more support."
Sporting dreadlocks, jeans and a blue Disneyland pullover, he puts the 13 youngsters through a standard series of skating and shooting drills, but takes time during water breaks to make out with his girlfriend, who watches all of his practices and plays with the city's lone female team.
He idolizes New Jersey Devils defenceman Scott Stevens for the way he hits. As practice winds down, he introduces a contact drill; he bodychecks each player -- some half his age -- trying to get by him with the puck. Disgusted with one slacking player, he crosschecks him from behind into the boards -- an infraction that would bring a five-minute major in any Canadian league.
Still, it's a reminder of home for this Canadian -- until the practice ends and the players leave the cold, dark rink for the gentle breeze of a warm Mexican evening.
David Agren is a Canadian writer living in Mexico.
19 March 2005
Sheltering dogs causes friction with neighbors for retired priest
Story by : David Agren
Lawrence Gerard, a retired Catholic priest from New York, shelters more than 60 dogs in his yellow and blue home across from the U.S. consulate on Calle Libertad. He rescued most from the street. Some were dumped at his home by their owners. Many have been abused at some point.
"I keep hoping the number goes down," he said in his living room, where small dogs, ranging from poodles to a cocker spaniel covered the floor and a black Scottish terrier, fresh from getting a bath and a haircut, chewed on a knapsack. He locked two overactive mutts in the bathroom, where they scratched at the door.
"Every time I go somewhere, there's a dog waiting to be rescued."
Sheltering so many dogs has caused quarrels with two local business owners who have complained to city hall. A restaurateur across the street objected to the smell and noise coming from Gerard's property. The owner of the vacant building next door, which has a side patio overlooking Gerard's front yard, also complained.
"He’s blaming me because he can't rent the place," Gerard said of his neighbor.
The owner of a restaurant operating on the other side of his home has never voiced displeasure with the dogs. A tarp blocks the patrons’ view of Gerard's place.
According to Gerard, the business owner across the street wanted to adopt a pet husky four months ago, but the former priest declined his request. Gerard recalled the man telling him at the time: "I'm going to bring you down."
The business owner, who runs a nameless loncheria on Calle Libertad, was unavailable for comment last week. David Arias, an employee, confirmed that someone at the small restaurant had lodged a complaint with city hall.
Gerard defended his dogs' behavior: "They're silent until the morning.
"All the dogs are in the house for the night."
During the interview, the large dogs in front of the house barked at the occasional passerby and a deliveryman bringing a sack full of lunches. But mostly, the canines inside napped while the outside dogs moped around the premises.
Shortly after the altercation with the business owner, Guadalajara bylaw officers paid Gerard a visit.
They slapped him with fines totaling 8,000 pesos, which he refuses to pay.
Gerard added that several officers quietly solicited bribes.
"I never offer a bribe. Never," he said adamantly.
The citations mentioned problems with noise and odors and allege he runs a business, but said nothing about having too many animals. One ticket, which a dog partially chewed up along with an envelope full of important documents, described Gerard as "an aggressive Gringo."
"It shows you the attitude they have towards me," he remarked.
Adding to his woes, he recently posted a sign in front of his house to encourage dog adoptions, but it prompted the health department to accuse him of running a business without the proper licenses. Even worse, the sign encouraged more people to leave unwanted dogs in his care than to take one home.
Caring for homeless dogs consumes Gerard's retirement. He seldom leaves the house, venturing out mainly to drop off packages at the post office, visit a nearby veterinary clinic and buy enormous amounts of dog food.
"I have to stay and watch the dogs so the city council won't come and take them away," he said, adding that some of the canines fight, requiring him to stay put and play peacemaker.
The financial costs are large. He spends 200 pesos to have each dog vaccinated and checked by Alberto Martin Cordero, a veterinarian at the San Francisco veterinary. All the bitches are spayed at a cost of 400 pesos each.
"I don't get that money back," he said.
He charges 200 pesos to adopt a dog, a sum he said shows a potential owner is serious about the decision and can afford to look after the new pet.
Although capable of receiving donations through his registered charity called Saint Vincent's, Gerard mostly finances his mission with his retirement income and by selling vestments, incense pots and chalices.
He acknowledged his house is less than ideal and would move if he could afford to.
"I'd rather be in a more secluded area," he said.
Until then, he promised to keep fighting city hall and living in Guadalajara, saying: "It seems to be my destiny to come here and do this."
Lawrence Gerard, a retired Catholic priest from New York, shelters more than 60 dogs in his yellow and blue home across from the U.S. consulate on Calle Libertad. He rescued most from the street. Some were dumped at his home by their owners. Many have been abused at some point.
"I keep hoping the number goes down," he said in his living room, where small dogs, ranging from poodles to a cocker spaniel covered the floor and a black Scottish terrier, fresh from getting a bath and a haircut, chewed on a knapsack. He locked two overactive mutts in the bathroom, where they scratched at the door.
"Every time I go somewhere, there's a dog waiting to be rescued."
Sheltering so many dogs has caused quarrels with two local business owners who have complained to city hall. A restaurateur across the street objected to the smell and noise coming from Gerard's property. The owner of the vacant building next door, which has a side patio overlooking Gerard's front yard, also complained.
"He’s blaming me because he can't rent the place," Gerard said of his neighbor.
The owner of a restaurant operating on the other side of his home has never voiced displeasure with the dogs. A tarp blocks the patrons’ view of Gerard's place.
According to Gerard, the business owner across the street wanted to adopt a pet husky four months ago, but the former priest declined his request. Gerard recalled the man telling him at the time: "I'm going to bring you down."
The business owner, who runs a nameless loncheria on Calle Libertad, was unavailable for comment last week. David Arias, an employee, confirmed that someone at the small restaurant had lodged a complaint with city hall.
Gerard defended his dogs' behavior: "They're silent until the morning.
"All the dogs are in the house for the night."
During the interview, the large dogs in front of the house barked at the occasional passerby and a deliveryman bringing a sack full of lunches. But mostly, the canines inside napped while the outside dogs moped around the premises.
Shortly after the altercation with the business owner, Guadalajara bylaw officers paid Gerard a visit.
They slapped him with fines totaling 8,000 pesos, which he refuses to pay.
Gerard added that several officers quietly solicited bribes.
"I never offer a bribe. Never," he said adamantly.
The citations mentioned problems with noise and odors and allege he runs a business, but said nothing about having too many animals. One ticket, which a dog partially chewed up along with an envelope full of important documents, described Gerard as "an aggressive Gringo."
"It shows you the attitude they have towards me," he remarked.
Adding to his woes, he recently posted a sign in front of his house to encourage dog adoptions, but it prompted the health department to accuse him of running a business without the proper licenses. Even worse, the sign encouraged more people to leave unwanted dogs in his care than to take one home.
Caring for homeless dogs consumes Gerard's retirement. He seldom leaves the house, venturing out mainly to drop off packages at the post office, visit a nearby veterinary clinic and buy enormous amounts of dog food.
"I have to stay and watch the dogs so the city council won't come and take them away," he said, adding that some of the canines fight, requiring him to stay put and play peacemaker.
The financial costs are large. He spends 200 pesos to have each dog vaccinated and checked by Alberto Martin Cordero, a veterinarian at the San Francisco veterinary. All the bitches are spayed at a cost of 400 pesos each.
"I don't get that money back," he said.
He charges 200 pesos to adopt a dog, a sum he said shows a potential owner is serious about the decision and can afford to look after the new pet.
Although capable of receiving donations through his registered charity called Saint Vincent's, Gerard mostly finances his mission with his retirement income and by selling vestments, incense pots and chalices.
He acknowledged his house is less than ideal and would move if he could afford to.
"I'd rather be in a more secluded area," he said.
Until then, he promised to keep fighting city hall and living in Guadalajara, saying: "It seems to be my destiny to come here and do this."
14 March 2005
Happy St. Patrick's Day
St. Patrick's Day arrives a little early in San Patricio-Melaque, Mexico.
Photo by Aaron Paton
22 November 2004
Ralph Klein on journalism
Premier Ralph Klein dispensed nuggets of journalistic wisdom at Mount Royal College while campaigning in his constituency last Friday. The television reporter turned politician’s best gem of wisdom: "If you ever lose your objectivity … get out of the business and find something else. That’s what happened to me."
Bias, it seems, tripped up Klein’s journalism career. So he tossed his hat in the electoral ring in 1980, saying to his then skeptical news director before a morning story meeting, "We’ve got Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum and I think I’m going to run." Klein unseated the incumbent Calgary mayor, ushering in his colourful and controversial political era.
Looking lively and wearing an olive-tone jacket, crisp white shirt and oddly matched chartreuse tie, the premier addressed a group of hastily assembled students while touring the new Centre for Communications Studies facilities.
"How things have changed," he remarked incessantly during his brief, off-the-cuff speech. Avoiding overt politicking, he commended the students for their career choices in communications and recounted tales of working with ancient technology during his reporting days. Klein spins a good yarn. With a folksy, aw-shucks style that has endeared him to so many Albertans, he spoke of the arduous task of splicing film, cutting and pasting tape and recording an "actuality" (now known as a voice clip).
In Klein’s day, few journalism schools existed. An elocution teacher suggested he smoke Buckingham cigarettes and sing in the shower to improve the resonance of his voice. "That was the essence of my broadcasting education," he said, laughing.
Despite his lack of formal schooling, Klein probably understands the media better than most politicians and forces journalists to know their material before posing a question. Decades after his elocution lessons, he enrolled in Mount Royal’s public relations program, but couldn’t find enough time to put his "rump in a seat," so he transferred to Athabasca University. Journalist Don Martin gives a different account of this story in King Ralph, his biography on the Alberta premier. He notes that a poor grade in Klein’s directed field study project may have prompted the switch. The project’s title: "How does one run a successful election campaign?" It critiqued his successful 2001 re-election bid. He received a C.
Martin's book also details how Klein practiced public relations and reported on city hall in the 1970s. By all accounts, he plied his crafts well, but moved into activist journalism towards the end of his reporting career. Apparently, Klein made a documentary that was critical of a proposed downtown redevelopment. The changes would have radically altered an area he held a "sentimental attachment" to and flattened many of the future mayor's "favorite watering holes." The piece fomented enough opposition to force a plebiscite on the issue.
During last Friday's visit, Klein said nothing on the touchy subject of drinking - one of journalism's most notorious vices. However, in a Reader’s Digest interview late last year, he blamed his past problems with alcohol on – you guessed it – journalism.
After his remarks, the Premier left without a question and answer session. Moments later, a few intrepid students cornered him in a hallway for a brief media scrum, which one of his handlers ended after a few minutes by saying, "All right kids, that's enough." Like his entire campaign, his visit highlighted nothing of pressing importance and probably left the young audience wondering why he ever showed up or called an election in the first place.
Originally published in the Reflector.
Premier Ralph Klein dispensed nuggets of journalistic wisdom at Mount Royal College while campaigning in his constituency last Friday. The television reporter turned politician’s best gem of wisdom: "If you ever lose your objectivity … get out of the business and find something else. That’s what happened to me."
Bias, it seems, tripped up Klein’s journalism career. So he tossed his hat in the electoral ring in 1980, saying to his then skeptical news director before a morning story meeting, "We’ve got Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum and I think I’m going to run." Klein unseated the incumbent Calgary mayor, ushering in his colourful and controversial political era.
Looking lively and wearing an olive-tone jacket, crisp white shirt and oddly matched chartreuse tie, the premier addressed a group of hastily assembled students while touring the new Centre for Communications Studies facilities.
"How things have changed," he remarked incessantly during his brief, off-the-cuff speech. Avoiding overt politicking, he commended the students for their career choices in communications and recounted tales of working with ancient technology during his reporting days. Klein spins a good yarn. With a folksy, aw-shucks style that has endeared him to so many Albertans, he spoke of the arduous task of splicing film, cutting and pasting tape and recording an "actuality" (now known as a voice clip).
In Klein’s day, few journalism schools existed. An elocution teacher suggested he smoke Buckingham cigarettes and sing in the shower to improve the resonance of his voice. "That was the essence of my broadcasting education," he said, laughing.
Despite his lack of formal schooling, Klein probably understands the media better than most politicians and forces journalists to know their material before posing a question. Decades after his elocution lessons, he enrolled in Mount Royal’s public relations program, but couldn’t find enough time to put his "rump in a seat," so he transferred to Athabasca University. Journalist Don Martin gives a different account of this story in King Ralph, his biography on the Alberta premier. He notes that a poor grade in Klein’s directed field study project may have prompted the switch. The project’s title: "How does one run a successful election campaign?" It critiqued his successful 2001 re-election bid. He received a C.
Martin's book also details how Klein practiced public relations and reported on city hall in the 1970s. By all accounts, he plied his crafts well, but moved into activist journalism towards the end of his reporting career. Apparently, Klein made a documentary that was critical of a proposed downtown redevelopment. The changes would have radically altered an area he held a "sentimental attachment" to and flattened many of the future mayor's "favorite watering holes." The piece fomented enough opposition to force a plebiscite on the issue.
During last Friday's visit, Klein said nothing on the touchy subject of drinking - one of journalism's most notorious vices. However, in a Reader’s Digest interview late last year, he blamed his past problems with alcohol on – you guessed it – journalism.
After his remarks, the Premier left without a question and answer session. Moments later, a few intrepid students cornered him in a hallway for a brief media scrum, which one of his handlers ended after a few minutes by saying, "All right kids, that's enough." Like his entire campaign, his visit highlighted nothing of pressing importance and probably left the young audience wondering why he ever showed up or called an election in the first place.
Originally published in the Reflector.
16 September 2004
Adbusters steps into shoe market
Adbusters, famous for its anti-consumption magazine and harsh criticism of athletic shoe companies, launched the Blackspot Sneaker earlier this month. In the process, it thrust a new anti-brand into the marketplace with the goal of snagging sales away from Nike, the Beaverton, Ore.-based shoe giant, often vilified for its labour practices and marketing techniques.
Drawing on the style of a vintage low-cut Chuck Taylor model, the Blackspot Sneaker features a black upper, woven from organic hemp grown in Romania, stitched to a white biodegradable rubber sole. Factory workers in Portugal hand paint the white Blackspot logo to each shoe and place a distinctive red tip on the toe for "kicking" (Nike co-founder) Phil Knight. "This Blackspot is really an attempt to create more diversity in the sneaker industry," says Kalle Lasn, editor-in-chief of Adbusters magazine.
"It’s about kicking Phil Knight in the ass for all the dirty deeds he’s done in the Third World." Besides occupying a place in the shoe market, Lasn anticipates like-minded entrepreneurs will brand a music label and restaurants with the Blackspot logo. "Our Blackspot stands for real empowerment," the Estonian-born founder of Adbusters says. "We want it to be a symbol of a fight for a better kind of business culture."
With each purchase, customers will receive one share in the new Blackspot Anti-Corporation, an entity established under the Adbusters Media Foundation. Shareholders will dictate how any profits get spent, but Lasn expects the money will go towards promoting causes like Buy Nothing Day.
Adbusters first floated the idea for an "ethical" sneaker on the back page of its anti-consumption magazine last September in the place of its usual spoof advertisement. An instant hit, readers pre-ordered over 10,000 pairs via the Internet. An estimated 250 independent stores will also retail the sneaker, which is priced at $47.50 per pair. Adbusters also launched a $250,000 advertising blitz earlier this week in support of its new brand.
"This is the best idea since Marxism," gushes one missive in the Ass-kickers’ forum on the Blackspot Sneaker’s website. "I'm glad to see Adbusters turn constructive. To watch you transform yourselves from producing gloom-and doom observations (albeit fascinating and informative ones) to a well-thought-out activist plan for the future is so cool," reads another.
While some rushed to buy the new sneaker, others in the anti-corporate movement disparage the concept, including author and columnist Naomi Klein. Without directly mentioning Adbusters, she told The Globe and Mail last fall, "Publications that analyze the commercialization of our lives have a responsibility to work to protect spaces where we aren't constantly being pitched to."
Lasn rebuffs the criticism, arguing it’s time to work for change within the capitalist system, which he acknowledges "isn’t about to disappear anytime soon.
"I think that those old lefties like Naomi Klein are afraid to think outside of their old lefty box. What have they done for the past 10 years? All they’ve done is complain and whine … they haven’t made a tad of difference. The Nike brand is still as cool as ever."
To differentiate the Blackspot Sneaker from its conventionally-produced counterparts, Adbusters out sources its manufacturing to a unionized-factory in rural Portugal. The factory owners pay their top workers $1,100 per month, provide free medical consultations on site and give 25 paid-vacation days per year. Working overtime is not compulsory. Adbusters produces and imports each pair of sneakers for $41. By contrast, producing a non-organic version of the sneaker in Asia would cost only $5.75.
North American unions pressured Adbusters to produce the shoe domestically, but Lasn insists the shoe be manufactured abroad to "spread the worker’s rights movement worldwide." The concept of an "ethical" sneaker fails to impress Johan Norberg, a Stockholm-based critic of the anti-corporate movement, who says Adbusters is "trying to come to terms with a problem that doesn’t really exist."
He points out in his book, In Defense of Global Capitalism, that multi-national companies like Nike and its ilk pay higher wages and obey the law more frequently in the Third World than their domestic counterparts.
"The best working conditions and the best wages are in those multi-national corporations in poor countries so that’s what we want more of if we want those countries to develop."
This article originally appeared in the Reflector.
Adbusters, famous for its anti-consumption magazine and harsh criticism of athletic shoe companies, launched the Blackspot Sneaker earlier this month. In the process, it thrust a new anti-brand into the marketplace with the goal of snagging sales away from Nike, the Beaverton, Ore.-based shoe giant, often vilified for its labour practices and marketing techniques.
Drawing on the style of a vintage low-cut Chuck Taylor model, the Blackspot Sneaker features a black upper, woven from organic hemp grown in Romania, stitched to a white biodegradable rubber sole. Factory workers in Portugal hand paint the white Blackspot logo to each shoe and place a distinctive red tip on the toe for "kicking" (Nike co-founder) Phil Knight. "This Blackspot is really an attempt to create more diversity in the sneaker industry," says Kalle Lasn, editor-in-chief of Adbusters magazine.
"It’s about kicking Phil Knight in the ass for all the dirty deeds he’s done in the Third World." Besides occupying a place in the shoe market, Lasn anticipates like-minded entrepreneurs will brand a music label and restaurants with the Blackspot logo. "Our Blackspot stands for real empowerment," the Estonian-born founder of Adbusters says. "We want it to be a symbol of a fight for a better kind of business culture."
With each purchase, customers will receive one share in the new Blackspot Anti-Corporation, an entity established under the Adbusters Media Foundation. Shareholders will dictate how any profits get spent, but Lasn expects the money will go towards promoting causes like Buy Nothing Day.
Adbusters first floated the idea for an "ethical" sneaker on the back page of its anti-consumption magazine last September in the place of its usual spoof advertisement. An instant hit, readers pre-ordered over 10,000 pairs via the Internet. An estimated 250 independent stores will also retail the sneaker, which is priced at $47.50 per pair. Adbusters also launched a $250,000 advertising blitz earlier this week in support of its new brand.
"This is the best idea since Marxism," gushes one missive in the Ass-kickers’ forum on the Blackspot Sneaker’s website. "I'm glad to see Adbusters turn constructive. To watch you transform yourselves from producing gloom-and doom observations (albeit fascinating and informative ones) to a well-thought-out activist plan for the future is so cool," reads another.
While some rushed to buy the new sneaker, others in the anti-corporate movement disparage the concept, including author and columnist Naomi Klein. Without directly mentioning Adbusters, she told The Globe and Mail last fall, "Publications that analyze the commercialization of our lives have a responsibility to work to protect spaces where we aren't constantly being pitched to."
Lasn rebuffs the criticism, arguing it’s time to work for change within the capitalist system, which he acknowledges "isn’t about to disappear anytime soon.
"I think that those old lefties like Naomi Klein are afraid to think outside of their old lefty box. What have they done for the past 10 years? All they’ve done is complain and whine … they haven’t made a tad of difference. The Nike brand is still as cool as ever."
To differentiate the Blackspot Sneaker from its conventionally-produced counterparts, Adbusters out sources its manufacturing to a unionized-factory in rural Portugal. The factory owners pay their top workers $1,100 per month, provide free medical consultations on site and give 25 paid-vacation days per year. Working overtime is not compulsory. Adbusters produces and imports each pair of sneakers for $41. By contrast, producing a non-organic version of the sneaker in Asia would cost only $5.75.
North American unions pressured Adbusters to produce the shoe domestically, but Lasn insists the shoe be manufactured abroad to "spread the worker’s rights movement worldwide." The concept of an "ethical" sneaker fails to impress Johan Norberg, a Stockholm-based critic of the anti-corporate movement, who says Adbusters is "trying to come to terms with a problem that doesn’t really exist."
He points out in his book, In Defense of Global Capitalism, that multi-national companies like Nike and its ilk pay higher wages and obey the law more frequently in the Third World than their domestic counterparts.
"The best working conditions and the best wages are in those multi-national corporations in poor countries so that’s what we want more of if we want those countries to develop."
This article originally appeared in the Reflector.
15 April 2004
Lake Chapala: A Tragedy of the Commons
When Juacabo Bacilio Loza casts his net into Mexico’s Lake Chapala, he catches fewer and smaller fish than he did 10 years ago. Heavy metals now contaminate his reduced haul and he no longer captures whitefish, once the lake’s prized catch. “I’ve been fishing since I can remember,” the 42-year-old Loza said as he prepared for the peak fishing season. “That’s what my father did and I like to do it too.”
He and his fishing co-operative colleagues each catch an average of 35 kilograms of carp and mojara each day — half the amount captured in the past. They usually harvest immature fish and sometimes charales, a finger-sized species that thrives in the lake’s warm, high-nutrient waters. A father of six himself, Loza’s eldest son saw no future in the lake and decided against fishing.
Located 40 km south of Guadalajara in western Mexico, the massive lake, referred to as Mexico’s inland sea, once supported a thriving fishery. Lake Chapala had receded over the past two decades to a mere 12 per cent of its original volume by 2003. Water management squabbles, poor agricultural practices and rapid population growth starved the lake of its inflow and withdrew much of what remained. Industrial waste, agricultural runoff and sewage contaminates the trickle of water that reaches Lake Chapala from its primary tributary, the Lerma River. Due to an unusually rainy season last year, the lake swelled to 40 per cent capacity, but it still remains imperiled and highly polluted.
With few barriers to entry, no system of licensing and weak property rights, fishers from 60 co-operatives pursue a dwindling supply of fish in Lake Chapala. The Mexican environment ministry (SEMARNAT) estimated the Lake Chapala catch decreased by 50 per cent during the 1990s.
“(It’s a) tragedy of the commons,” said Brian Murphy, a biologist at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Va., who studies lakes and fisheries around the globe, referring to a theory that inherent common property will be abused by the worst elements of a community. “In virtually all of the developing world, inland lakes like [Chapala] are over-fished.”
The severity of Lake Chapala’s problems with over-fishing, water quality and quantity emphasize Murphy’s opinion when compared to other troubled bodies of water. “SEMARNAT isn’t even monitoring the system completely, much less enforcing regulations,” he added. “I don’t know another [lake] that has all three [problems],” he remarked.
The water level is the most important issue for Lake Chapala, said Manuel Guzman, a water expert at the University of Guadalajara. More water evaporates off Chapala, a naturally shallow lake, than it currently receives in inflows. The low water levels have concentrated pollutants in the lake and increased its temperature and evaporation. Sediment created by development and deforestation have also decreased the lake’s depth and destroyed fish habitat.
Besides harming the fishery, the low water level and pollution have hurt the local tourism industry and diminished property values. The tourism business and property values near Lake Chapala fluctuate with the water level, which crests just shy of Chapala’s pier. Until recently, boat operators bussed passengers almost two kilometers across the dry lakebed from the pier to shoreline. Business roared back after last fall’s rainy season, jumping 400 per cent, according to government statistics. “The tourists stop coming when the lake dries up,” said Arturo Gutierrez, the mayor of Chapala, the largest community on Lake Chapala’s northern shore. “Thanks to the lake, we have one of the best climates in the world.”
A popular day trip from Guadalajara, the lake’s perpetual spring-like climate and spectacular scenery have long attracted an eclectic collection of artists, tourists and villains including former Mexican dictator Porfirio Diaz and writer D.H. Lawrence. A colony of 12,000 American and Canadian retirees populates Chapala and Ajijic, the north shore’s two biggest cities.
Besides harming the local area, the shrinking lake also threatens the water supply of nearby Guadalajara, which obtains 65 per cent of its water from Lake Chapala. The Jalisco capital has mushroomed over the last 25 years to a population of five million. Its waterworks loses approximately 40 per cent of the water through leaky pipes. An Organisation for Economic C0-operation and Development report found municipalities across Mexico waste 44 per cent of their drinking water.
Clandestine pipes also illegally siphon off some of the water extracted from Lake Chapala. Thieves extract treated water through illicit connections to irrigate crops, gardens and ranches. The Informador newspaper reported in 2001 that one pipe alone withdrew 1,200 litres of water per second.
Across Mexico, governments of all levels subsidize municipal water. It costs SIAPA, the local water supplier in Guadalajara, 4.77 pesos to treat and deliver one cubic meter of water (1,000 litres), but it charges an average of 1.50 pesos per cubic meter. Chapala charges each household a mere 300 pesos per year for water. Water users in Jalisco use 270 litres per day, 80 per cent more than the French average and double the amount used in Israel.
Furthermore, SIAPA recently forgave 75 per cent of its overdue water bills, worsening its revenue problem. Mexican politicians routinely promise cheap water during election campaigns and nationwide only 60 percent of water bills get paid.
Mexico City, Agauscalientes and Cancun recently privatized portions of their water systems to reduce waste and attract infrastructure investment. The four private companies hired in Mexico City recently installed meters to encourage conservation and set about fixing pipes to stem financial losses. While Guadalajara’s needs put stress on Lake Chapala, Mayor Gutierrez points upstream towards the dry highlands of Central Mexico to the source of the Lerma River, which feeds Lake Chapala.
The Lerma River originates just west of Mexico City in Mexico state. It flows for 750 km through five states and the nation’s industrial and agricultural heartland before emptying into Lake Chapala. Although home to 75 per cent of the Mexican population and 70 per cent of its irrigated land and industrial output, central Mexico receives just 25 per cent of the nation’s rainfall.
Near Lerma River’s source, Mexico City pumps water from the river back over the continental divide for two million of its residents. As the river descends from its source, many large and small cities dump raw sewage into the river and industrial users, including chemical plants and a Pemex refinery, discharge untreated waste water into the river.
The Mexican constitution guarantees access to water and forbids private ownership of the resource. New laws enacted in 1992 introduced water rights, irrigation councils and an improved National Water Commission (CNA) to oversee water use issues and limited private sector involvement in municipal water systems. The CNA still charges little for concessions to the Lerma River and provides few incentives to conserve water.
Concessions to the Lerma River sell for as little as $30 per year per hectare. Small farmers inefficiently flood their land and cheap prices dissuade large farmers from improving irrigation techniques. An OECD study found poor methods waste 54 per cent of irrigation water. Large farms in the basin grow water-intensive crops such as strawberries for export to the United States, but pay the same fee as tiny ejidos (collective farms frequently created from expropriated haciendas).
The water table in Guanajuato sinks an average of 1.8 to 3.3 metres per year and 70 per cent of its aquifers are over-exploited. While agriculture uses 70 per cent of the Lerma River’s water, it contributes much less to the national economy than other industries. Victor Lichtinger, a former advisor to President Vicente Fox, advocated the government cut its irrigation subsidies in 2001, but acknowledged such a move would be unpopular. The family of President Fox prospered by ranching and cultivating winter vegetables in Guanajuato.
By the time the Lerma reaches Lake Chapala, only a trickle remains. The small amount that enters the lake is loaded with pesticides, sewage and heavy metals. The nitrogen-rich water spawns vegetation in the lake, which clogs its shallow waters.
With the lake declining, politicians have proposed constructing a massive dam on the Santiago River, which empties Lake Chapala, to supply Guadalajara with drinking water. The scheme would dam the river in a canyon north of the city slightly downstream from the convergence point of the Green River, which originates to the north.
“The Santiago River is highly contaminated,” said Rosier Omar Rodriguez, a water expert at the University of Guadalajara who opposes the dam. The dam would trap dirty water, contaminated with Chapala’s filth and untreated sewage from Guadalajara. Planned for a site lower than the city, the hydroelectricity the dam generates would be used for pumping the water uphill to purification plants.
Rodriguez instead proposed a series of dams for the Green River, which he said flows three times faster and is cleaner. Local politicians rejected it out of hand. He also pointed out the dam would bridge the canyon and thus quicken development plans for the side opposite Guadalajara possible - thus enriching the project's proponents even further.
Despite continued threats to the lake, Justus Hauser, a member of Amigos de Lago and nine-year Chapala-area resident, feels more optimistic than ever about the lake’s recovery prospect. The World Fund for Nature recognized Chapala as a lake in peril and Hauser said the increased international attention will put pressure on politicians to give the lake its fair share of water. For the first time in years, water filled the Chapala in 2003 as the excess spillover from the upstream dams filled the lake instead of being hoarded.
This story appeared in The Reflector.
When Juacabo Bacilio Loza casts his net into Mexico’s Lake Chapala, he catches fewer and smaller fish than he did 10 years ago. Heavy metals now contaminate his reduced haul and he no longer captures whitefish, once the lake’s prized catch. “I’ve been fishing since I can remember,” the 42-year-old Loza said as he prepared for the peak fishing season. “That’s what my father did and I like to do it too.”
He and his fishing co-operative colleagues each catch an average of 35 kilograms of carp and mojara each day — half the amount captured in the past. They usually harvest immature fish and sometimes charales, a finger-sized species that thrives in the lake’s warm, high-nutrient waters. A father of six himself, Loza’s eldest son saw no future in the lake and decided against fishing.
Located 40 km south of Guadalajara in western Mexico, the massive lake, referred to as Mexico’s inland sea, once supported a thriving fishery. Lake Chapala had receded over the past two decades to a mere 12 per cent of its original volume by 2003. Water management squabbles, poor agricultural practices and rapid population growth starved the lake of its inflow and withdrew much of what remained. Industrial waste, agricultural runoff and sewage contaminates the trickle of water that reaches Lake Chapala from its primary tributary, the Lerma River. Due to an unusually rainy season last year, the lake swelled to 40 per cent capacity, but it still remains imperiled and highly polluted.
With few barriers to entry, no system of licensing and weak property rights, fishers from 60 co-operatives pursue a dwindling supply of fish in Lake Chapala. The Mexican environment ministry (SEMARNAT) estimated the Lake Chapala catch decreased by 50 per cent during the 1990s.
“(It’s a) tragedy of the commons,” said Brian Murphy, a biologist at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Va., who studies lakes and fisheries around the globe, referring to a theory that inherent common property will be abused by the worst elements of a community. “In virtually all of the developing world, inland lakes like [Chapala] are over-fished.”
The severity of Lake Chapala’s problems with over-fishing, water quality and quantity emphasize Murphy’s opinion when compared to other troubled bodies of water. “SEMARNAT isn’t even monitoring the system completely, much less enforcing regulations,” he added. “I don’t know another [lake] that has all three [problems],” he remarked.
The water level is the most important issue for Lake Chapala, said Manuel Guzman, a water expert at the University of Guadalajara. More water evaporates off Chapala, a naturally shallow lake, than it currently receives in inflows. The low water levels have concentrated pollutants in the lake and increased its temperature and evaporation. Sediment created by development and deforestation have also decreased the lake’s depth and destroyed fish habitat.
Besides harming the fishery, the low water level and pollution have hurt the local tourism industry and diminished property values. The tourism business and property values near Lake Chapala fluctuate with the water level, which crests just shy of Chapala’s pier. Until recently, boat operators bussed passengers almost two kilometers across the dry lakebed from the pier to shoreline. Business roared back after last fall’s rainy season, jumping 400 per cent, according to government statistics. “The tourists stop coming when the lake dries up,” said Arturo Gutierrez, the mayor of Chapala, the largest community on Lake Chapala’s northern shore. “Thanks to the lake, we have one of the best climates in the world.”
A popular day trip from Guadalajara, the lake’s perpetual spring-like climate and spectacular scenery have long attracted an eclectic collection of artists, tourists and villains including former Mexican dictator Porfirio Diaz and writer D.H. Lawrence. A colony of 12,000 American and Canadian retirees populates Chapala and Ajijic, the north shore’s two biggest cities.
Besides harming the local area, the shrinking lake also threatens the water supply of nearby Guadalajara, which obtains 65 per cent of its water from Lake Chapala. The Jalisco capital has mushroomed over the last 25 years to a population of five million. Its waterworks loses approximately 40 per cent of the water through leaky pipes. An Organisation for Economic C0-operation and Development report found municipalities across Mexico waste 44 per cent of their drinking water.
Clandestine pipes also illegally siphon off some of the water extracted from Lake Chapala. Thieves extract treated water through illicit connections to irrigate crops, gardens and ranches. The Informador newspaper reported in 2001 that one pipe alone withdrew 1,200 litres of water per second.
Across Mexico, governments of all levels subsidize municipal water. It costs SIAPA, the local water supplier in Guadalajara, 4.77 pesos to treat and deliver one cubic meter of water (1,000 litres), but it charges an average of 1.50 pesos per cubic meter. Chapala charges each household a mere 300 pesos per year for water. Water users in Jalisco use 270 litres per day, 80 per cent more than the French average and double the amount used in Israel.
Furthermore, SIAPA recently forgave 75 per cent of its overdue water bills, worsening its revenue problem. Mexican politicians routinely promise cheap water during election campaigns and nationwide only 60 percent of water bills get paid.
Mexico City, Agauscalientes and Cancun recently privatized portions of their water systems to reduce waste and attract infrastructure investment. The four private companies hired in Mexico City recently installed meters to encourage conservation and set about fixing pipes to stem financial losses. While Guadalajara’s needs put stress on Lake Chapala, Mayor Gutierrez points upstream towards the dry highlands of Central Mexico to the source of the Lerma River, which feeds Lake Chapala.
The Lerma River originates just west of Mexico City in Mexico state. It flows for 750 km through five states and the nation’s industrial and agricultural heartland before emptying into Lake Chapala. Although home to 75 per cent of the Mexican population and 70 per cent of its irrigated land and industrial output, central Mexico receives just 25 per cent of the nation’s rainfall.
Near Lerma River’s source, Mexico City pumps water from the river back over the continental divide for two million of its residents. As the river descends from its source, many large and small cities dump raw sewage into the river and industrial users, including chemical plants and a Pemex refinery, discharge untreated waste water into the river.
The Mexican constitution guarantees access to water and forbids private ownership of the resource. New laws enacted in 1992 introduced water rights, irrigation councils and an improved National Water Commission (CNA) to oversee water use issues and limited private sector involvement in municipal water systems. The CNA still charges little for concessions to the Lerma River and provides few incentives to conserve water.
Concessions to the Lerma River sell for as little as $30 per year per hectare. Small farmers inefficiently flood their land and cheap prices dissuade large farmers from improving irrigation techniques. An OECD study found poor methods waste 54 per cent of irrigation water. Large farms in the basin grow water-intensive crops such as strawberries for export to the United States, but pay the same fee as tiny ejidos (collective farms frequently created from expropriated haciendas).
The water table in Guanajuato sinks an average of 1.8 to 3.3 metres per year and 70 per cent of its aquifers are over-exploited. While agriculture uses 70 per cent of the Lerma River’s water, it contributes much less to the national economy than other industries. Victor Lichtinger, a former advisor to President Vicente Fox, advocated the government cut its irrigation subsidies in 2001, but acknowledged such a move would be unpopular. The family of President Fox prospered by ranching and cultivating winter vegetables in Guanajuato.
By the time the Lerma reaches Lake Chapala, only a trickle remains. The small amount that enters the lake is loaded with pesticides, sewage and heavy metals. The nitrogen-rich water spawns vegetation in the lake, which clogs its shallow waters.
With the lake declining, politicians have proposed constructing a massive dam on the Santiago River, which empties Lake Chapala, to supply Guadalajara with drinking water. The scheme would dam the river in a canyon north of the city slightly downstream from the convergence point of the Green River, which originates to the north.
“The Santiago River is highly contaminated,” said Rosier Omar Rodriguez, a water expert at the University of Guadalajara who opposes the dam. The dam would trap dirty water, contaminated with Chapala’s filth and untreated sewage from Guadalajara. Planned for a site lower than the city, the hydroelectricity the dam generates would be used for pumping the water uphill to purification plants.
Rodriguez instead proposed a series of dams for the Green River, which he said flows three times faster and is cleaner. Local politicians rejected it out of hand. He also pointed out the dam would bridge the canyon and thus quicken development plans for the side opposite Guadalajara possible - thus enriching the project's proponents even further.
Despite continued threats to the lake, Justus Hauser, a member of Amigos de Lago and nine-year Chapala-area resident, feels more optimistic than ever about the lake’s recovery prospect. The World Fund for Nature recognized Chapala as a lake in peril and Hauser said the increased international attention will put pressure on politicians to give the lake its fair share of water. For the first time in years, water filled the Chapala in 2003 as the excess spillover from the upstream dams filled the lake instead of being hoarded.
This story appeared in The Reflector.
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