Anyone still unclear about why the police are
constructing a modern-day Bastille around Quebec
City in preparation for the unveiling
of the Free Trade Area of the Americas should take a look at a
case being heard by the B.C. Supreme Court.
In 1991, Metalclad, a U.S. waste management
company, bought a closed- down toxic treatment
facility in Guadalcazar, Mexico. The company
wanted to build a huge hazardous waste dump
and promised to clean up the mess left behind by
the previous owners. But in the years
that followed, they expanded operations without seeking local
approval, earning little good will in Guadalcazar.
Residents lost trust that Metalclad was serious
about cleaning up, feared continued groundwater
contamination, and eventually decided
that the foreign company was not welcome.
In 1995, when the landfill was ready to open,
the town and state intervened with what legislative
powers they had available: The city
denied Metalclad a building permit and the state declared that
the area around the site was part of
an ecological reserve.
By this point, NAFTA -- including its controversial
"Chapter 11" clause, which allows investors to
sue governments -- was in full effect.
So Metalclad launched a Chapter 11 challenge, claiming
Mexico was "expropriating" its investment.
The complaint was heard last August in Washington by a
three-person arbitration panel. Metalclad
asked for $90-million (U.S.), and was awarded
$16.7-million.
Using a rare third-party appeal mechanism,
Mexico chose to challenge the ruling before the B.C.
Supreme Court.
The Metalclad case is a vivid illustration
of what critics mean when they charge that free-trade deals
amount to a "bill of rights for multinational
corporations." Metalclad has successfully played the
victim, oppressed by what NAFTA calls "intervention"
and what used to be called "democracy."
As the Metalclad case shows, sometimes democracy
breaks out when you least expect it. Maybe
it's in a sleepy town, or a complacent
city, where residents suddenly decide that their politicians
haven't done their jobs and step in to intervene.
Community groups form, council meetings are
stormed. And sometimes there is a victory:
A hazardous mine never gets built, a plan to privatize
the local water system is scuttled, a garbage
dump (such as the one planned for Kirkland Lake
north of Toronto) is blocked.
Frequently, this community intervention happens
late in the game and earlier decisions are
reversed. These outbreaks of grassroots
intervention are messy, inconvenient and difficult to
predict -- but democracy, despite the best
laid plans, sometimes bursts out of council meetings and
closed-door committees.
It is precisely this kind of democracy that
the Metalclad panel deemed "arbitrary." Under so-called
free trade, governments are losing their
ability to be responsive to constituents, to learn from
mistakes, and to correct them before it's
too late. Metalclad's position is that the federal government
should simply have ignored the local
objections. There's no doubt that, from an investor
perspective, it's always easier to negotiate
with one level of government than with three.
The catch is that our democracies don't work
that way: Issues such as waste disposal cut across
levels of government, affecting not
just trade but drinking water, health, ecology, and tourism.
Furthermore, it is in local communities where
the real impacts of free-trade policies are felt most
acutely.
Cities are asked to absorb the people pushed
off their land by industrial agriculture, or forced to
leave their provinces due to cuts in
federal employment programs. Cities and towns have to find
shelter for those made homeless by deregulated
rental markets, and municipalities have to deal
with the mess of failed water privatization
experiments -- all with an eroded tax base.
There is a move among many local politicians
to demand increased powers in response to this
offloading. For instance, citing the
Metalclad ruling, Vancouver City Council passed a resolution
last month petitioning "the federal government
to refuse to sign any new trade and investment
agreements, such as . . . the Free Trade
Area of the Americas, that include investor-state
provisions similar to the ones included
in NAFTA." And on Monday, the mayors of Canada's
largest cities launched a campaign for greater
constitutional powers. "[Cities] are listed in the
constitution of the late 1800s between
saloons and asylums and that's where we get our power, so
we can be offloaded [and] downloaded," explained
Joanne Monaghan, president of the Federation
of Canadian Municipalities.
Cities and towns need decision-making powers
commensurate to their increased responsibilities,
or they will simply be turned into passive
dumping grounds for the toxic fallout of free trade.
Sometimes, as in Guadalcazar, the dumping
is plain to see.
Most of the time it is better hidden.
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