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A gold mine for big capital

A small mining community's struggle against the great capital forces illustrates the mechanisms that govern the world today – and who we almost automatically cheer for.




(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)

Marmato
Director and photo: Mark Grieco

 

Marmato is a mountain village in Colombia that literally lies on a gold mine. The rock under the small town is one of the few places in the world where there are still really large amounts of gold to be extracted: an estimated amount of reserves for around 20 billion dollars. The locals have been operating gold mining here for 500 years, which they are constantly doing in exactly the same way as during the gold rush in the Wild West – with dynamite and picks. It is not at all harmless, and the miners do not get rich themselves either. Instead, they work on a fixed salary for local businessmen.

In the documentary with the same name as the city, Canadian filmmaker Mark Grieco has followed developments in Marmato for five and a half years. The movie begins in 2009, as most of the city's mines were in the hands of local owners. However, it will not be long before the Canadian company Medoro acquires the majority of the mines, in the wake of the Colombian government's somewhat earlier opening for foreign investment in this industry.

The price of modernization. Initially, Medoro's interest gives hope for higher salaries for the miners, but it should prove that the company's plans to modernize operations have some very negative consequences for the village and its inhabitants. Instead of using today's narrow mines, Canadians want to extract the precious metal from a large crater in the mountains. This is supposed to be more sustainable for both communities and the environment, and undoubtedly less dangerous for the employees. The only problem is that the crater will also level the entire Marmato with the earth. Furthermore, the company wants to commit to hiring people from the locals to the modernized mining operation – but will not need more than 30 percent of those who now have the gold mines as their workplace. The other 70 percent of the village's residents will thus be left without any job offer, in addition to all losing their current home.

The local community is thus beginning to fight against Medero's plans, despite the fact that the international company obviously has far more resources than the poor miners. The film depicts how some dirty tricks are used in the already uneven match. At one point, for example, workers are banned from using dynamite, as this would be considered terrorism – a frightening example of how authorities can cynically invoke anti-terrorism considerations if it helps them achieve completely different goals. Then the mines are closed, while the lawyers dispute the right to manage them. However, the local miners can't stop. They break in and continue more or less unsatisfied with the excavation – some even with home-made explosives, since they no longer have access to regular dynamite.

Very rarely do documentaries see parties with the multinational companies.

Trubadur and text posters. Marmato is Mark Grieco's debut as a documentary filmmaker. He has long experience as a photojournalist, which is evident in his flair for powerful images and eco-descriptive details. As a documentary, he has settled on a mainly observational line, and is present with camera in many crucial situations – although the film also contains some clean interviews. In addition, he imaginatively lets a local troubadour sing about the events, in music sequences that act both as commentary on the action and as the embedding of the context. But the narration also depends on a number of posters. This testifies to the fact that Grieco has faced certain challenges in structuring its undoubtedly very extensive material, while at the same time not having covered everything needed for information through the recordings.

A frightening example of how authorities can cynically invoke anti-terrorism if it helps them in achieving completely different goals.

Grieco has obviously come close to the people of the mountain village, and he closely follows the miner Dumar and the local mining founder Conrado. The former is dependent on the income from mining work to secure the education of its teenage daughter, and is among those who continue in their work illegally. A scene in which Dumar tries to talk her daughter away from using robbery and other school supplies with Medoro's logo shows how cunning the company is in its efforts to influence the local community.

Like Dumar, Conrado also refuses to give in to the legal sanctions – despite losing his workers. Instead, he continues on his own, putting himself in considerable danger in the dark tunnels of the mountain.

This week was Marmato shown by the Oslo Document Arkino, in connection with a debate about whether aid organizations hinder economic growth and development in poor areas. Norwegian organizations are accused of being too critical of international companies' investments, and almost automatically engage with the local population – which can also be said about many documentaries. Among other things, this has been a theme of mining, which is not necessarily driven in any way by traditional, local forces.

Sympathy for the weak. The discussion is timely, not least in the context of documentary film. Films' dramaturgy is often based on the audience's tendency to cheer for the "underdog": Our sympathies will usually be directed to Asterix's small village, rather than the Romans who have conquered all of the remaining Gallia. It is very rare to see documentarians party with the multinational companies – who undeniably have profits as their main goal, even when they want to appear as charitable benefactors. It is no wonder that idealistic filmmakers prioritize giving voice to the submissive, local party in the face of far more powerful, international forces – and the Marmato conflict stands as a classic example of bias and injustice in that respect.

That said, is not Marmato completely one-sided in his presentation, though there is little doubt as to where Grieco's sympathy lies. Here, representatives from Medoro are also followed – albeit not as closely as the locals, but sufficient that we also hear their side of the matter. The film also gives the impression that the traditional mining community is no longer sustainable on its own, and that some development and change is inevitable.

The conflict in Marmato clarifies many of the mechanisms that govern the world today. So, this documentary is not just a story about the little one against the big one, but also a rather small picture that illustrates some much bigger points.

Marmato is available on Netflix, and was shown at the Oslo Document Arkino on Tuesday this week, associated with debate.
See documentarkino.no

Huser is a film critic in Ny Tid.
alekshuser@ Gmail.com

 

Aleksander Huser
Aleksander Huser
Huser is a regular film critic in Ny Tid.

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