A slightly different version of this article appeared as Chapter 7 in the Economics of Conflict and Peace, Brauer, J. and W.G. Gissy editors, Brookfield, VT: Ashgate Publishing Co. (1997).

John D. Abell*
Randolph-Macon Woman’s College
2500 Rivermont Ave.
Lynchburg, VA USA 24503

                                                     Ph.# (804) 947-8502 (w)
                                                              (804) 528-9363 (h)
                                                    Fax# (804) 947-8138

email: jabell@main.rmwc.edu

* Associate Professor of Economics, Randolph-Macon Woman’s College (R-MWC). Research in Guatemala was made possible by two professional development grants from R-MWC. I wish to thank the people of San Lucas Tolimán for opening their homes and sharing the stories of their lives with me. Their witness to the pursuit of peace is remarkable. In particular, I wish to thank Father Greg Schaffer, without whom, neither the good works of San Lucas nor the story told herein would be possible. All unattributed quotes in the chapter are either from Father Greg or from unpublished parish documents.

                                                  "If you want peace, work for justice." (Pope John XXIII)

Introduction.

Few of us, sitting comfortably in our easy chairs, can even begin to imagine the feelings that might go through the mind of a young Mayan father when the news rushes into town like the headwind of a hurricane that a platoon of soldiers has just been sighted two kilometers on the road into town. The man, in the prime of his productive years, and a parent to a teenage daughter and son, is terrified. He has never attended a day of school in his life, but he understands Guatemalan history as well as the Latin American specialists in the big universities. He’s not sure of the exact numbers, but he knows that the numbers of whole villages that have simply been wiped off the maps during the military’s counterinsurgency campaign run well into the hundreds. He may not realize that at as many as 100,000 people have been killed in violent clashes between the military and the civilian population during the decades-long civil war, or that well over one million Guatemalans, mostly indigenous and poor ladinos, have been displaced both internally or externally, but he knows of friends and relatives in neighboring villages who count among the dead or disappeared.

The stories he has heard regarding rapes, torture, intimidation, forced inscription into the army, crop destruction and massacres are mostly not suitable for elaboration on the printed page. They are certainly not things that the young father likes to think about often or discuss with his wife and neighbors, yet the fleeting images of these things are permanent reminders of life in the altiplano (highlands) of Guatemala. If the military takes his son into the army, there is a significant possibility that he will never see him again. And to make matters worse, the chances of him being able to shoulder the burden of his little plot of land entirely on his own would be slim. What if they touched his wife or daughter? What would he do? What could he do, if like other cases he had heard about, he was forced at gun point to stand and watch?

The refuge of the mountains is only moments away. There is a hidden path leading away from the village that they could take. Would he and his family be able to carry enough of their food and belongings in one trip to sustain themselves for a while if need be? Should he wait and see what the soldiers want and risk some sort of entanglement, or should he flee while he has the chance?

Turn the scenario around and suppose the young father has just been invited to a clandestine meeting shortly after midnight with some of the guerrilla forces. He has been promised that no harm whatsoever will come to him and his family and that the gathering will be an informational session in which his village can learn better how to protect itself from the paramilitary death squads that have been so prevalent recently. The fear he has of those groups is almost more than he can bear, but he wonders whether he is simply going to make his family even more susceptible to such attacks if they somehow determined that he had made contact with the rebels. Making use of orejas (literally translated as "ears," but referring to informants and spies) the death squads seem to have immediate ways of finding these things out.

What if there is a price tag associated with accepting assistance from the guerrillas? There usually is--food, clothing, shelter, transportation. He barely grows enough food as it is to feed his family. If he had to share with these outsiders, his family would face the very real possibility of starvation. The thought of leaving his village and traveling to the southern coast to pick cotton or sugar for a big landowner is more than he can bear. What if they ask and he says no? Will they simply steal whatever provisions they need anyway? A military official once told some of the village elders that these rebel forces were communists and that there could be nothing more evil or sinister on the planet. So the father thinks long and hard. These people don’t seem so evil. In fact they seem quite sincere in offering to help, but how can he be sure? What if they really are communists?

Surely the world can not live in peace as long as fathers and mothers go to bed each night with such choices weighing on their minds. Regarding such matters, Robert McAfee Brown, in his book Making Peace in the Global Village, suggests there is a point on which most people can all agree; that "the world should not be the way it is."¹ However, on the off-chance anyone disagrees with such an assessment, then, like Brown suggests, he or she should "... stop reading immediately. Nothing that follows will make any sense."²

Except for a small privileged segment of the population, the world that most Guatemalans experience on a daily basis should definitely not be the way it is. This article entails an analysis of their world and the injustices they face in their on-going struggle for peace. It will also provide a case study of one very special community that has achieved some remarkable successes in their own struggle.

The story of the struggle for justice and peace in Guatemala is replete with tales of death squads, human rights violations, insurgency, counterinsurgency, guerrillas, the military, "scorched earth policy," "fusiles y frijoles," civilian defense patrols, indigenous peoples, the oligarchy, Catholics vs. evangelicals, Rigoberta Menchú, Jennifer Harbury, and so on. But in a sense, underlying all of these things are the hard questions of economics. For example, what are the policies and institutions in place in that country that determine who eats and who doesn’t, who pays taxes and who doesn’t, who owns land and who doesn’t, and who works and who doesn’t? These are issues of which revolutions are made; moreover, they are also issues that economists are going to have to examine much more closely, not only in Guatemala, but throughout the rest of the developing world, if our profession is ever going to make a significant contribution to peace.

It is not exactly clear, though, where economists really stand on the issue of peace. Presumably, everyone is in favor of peace. However, a brief perusal of the indexes of most economics textbooks would lead one to conclude that peace is simply a topic that is not high on the economic agenda. The word simply never comes up. It certainly does not appear in any of the more popular definitions; for example: "Economics is the study of the allocation of scarce resources among competing ends." In fact, note that the definition makes no mention whatsoever of real live human beings and their day to day problems. Or consider the list of macroeconomic goals that routinely appear in most principles and intermediate textbooks. The primary goal in every case is the achievement of economic growth. According to McConnell and Brue, for example, economic growth entails "the production of more and better goods and services," leading to "a higher standard of living."³

Regarding this all important goal, there has been a perceptible shift in the economics profession in the past couple of decades away from traditional mixed economic solutions in favor of neoliberal approaches that emphasize less government, lower taxes, privatization, decontrol of prices and a focus on export oriented growth strategies. Reliance on the free market with its rewards for private initiative offers the greatest opportunity for a country to generate wealth, according to this view. Presumably, peace will float in on the rising tide of economic prosperity as all participants share in the gains to some degree or other.

Interestingly, these conservative themes have been a part of the Guatemalan economy practically from the moment the Spanish first arrived in 1524. They have, of course, been refined over the years, especially in the post-1954 era and even codified as recently as 1986 (a period when neoliberal reform was sweeping through much of Latin America) under President Vinicio Cerezo’s National Social and Economic Reordering Plan (PRES), but regardless, the cornerstones of private sector control, low taxes and production for export remain untouched. Unfortunately (some would say predictably), the gains from such externally focused policies have been transitory. As long as export growth remained strong (5.7% annual average during the decade of the 70s, for example), GDP growth was also strong (5.8% annually). However, from 1980-1993, when export growth only averaged 0.1% per year, GDP growth slowed to an annual average of 1.7% or, on a per capita basis, it actually declined at an average annual rate of -1.2%, suggesting an unhealthy dependency on foreign markets.⁴

The belt tightening associated with this poor economic performance has not been shared equally, however. The use of average growth rates obscures one of the most heavily skewed distributions of income and land in the entire world, in which the richest ten percent receive nearly half of all income⁵ and only two percent own 80% of the land.⁶ Such inequality has not been without disastrous effects. A Bread for the World study indicated that three quarters of Guatemala’s citizens live in poverty, with up to 60% of the population unable to meet minimal nutritional needs. More astounding yet, it found that 85% of children under the age of 5 experience malnourishment to some degree.⁷ Stunted growth was observed in up to 95% of non-Spanish speaking children in some regions of the country.⁸ It would seem that the rising tide is only enriching a select few while the majority remained chained to the bottom in a quagmire of grinding poverty and depression.

Amidst this sea of depressing statistics is found an exception; the village of San Lucas Tolimán. Nestled on the shore of beautiful Lake Atitlán in the troubled altiplano of Guatemala, it is an oasis of relative peace, hope and prosperity for its own citizens and a shining example to other communities. What seems to account for its enviable position in an otherwise troubled society is that it has carefully managed to avoid the worst horrors of the on-going civil war that has raged for over 40 years by taking a non-violent stance of non-alignment between the competing forces of the rebel insurgency and the Guatemalan military. Following a small scale socio-economic development program steeped in both Mayan and Christian traditions, the community appears to practice economics as if the earth and its people truly mattered. The manner in which San Lucas has avoided conflict over the years and the development approach it has followed will be the centerpiece of this chapter.

It is argued through the story of San Lucas Tolimán that there is indeed a strong correlation between peace and economic prosperity, but not the traditional economic prosperity embedded in statistics such as Gross Domestic Product or export volume. Rather, peace results from a viable, inclusive, sustainable economy that is not beholden to the whims of export markets and international capital. When every family has a legitimate chance to pursue their dreams--dreams of owning a parcel of land, of building their own home, or of starting up a small business, for example--there is a greater chance that, at the end of a hard day’s work, there will be food on the table and a calmness that comes with being in charge of one’s own destiny. Furthermore, as will be indicated, this self-reliance helps to insulate people and communities from a dependency on external forces, whether they be foreign markets, rebel commandos or otherwise. Both foreign markets and rebel forces tend to be rather unpredictable, and it has been exhibited time and again that when a community comes to rely exclusively on either group for its survival, it is setting itself up for a potential disaster.

San Lucas Tolimán

"Tortillas from corn we ourselves have grown on our own land always taste better."
                                                                                            Traditional Mayan saying

Beginnings

The story begins in the early 1960s with a young priest fresh out of the seminary, contentedly ensconced in his first job as an assistant pastor at Holy Redeemer parish in Marshall, Minnesota, along with teaching responsibilities in the Catholic high school. Unbeknownst to him, the Diocese of New Ulm, Minnesota had recently adopted a small struggling parish in rural Guatemala. With a small staff already in place, an assistant pastor was needed--New Ulm was making a long-term investment in the lives of the people there and wanted to ensure a successful outcome. The bishop began recruiting from among the local priests, but found that there was little interest in leaving the comfortable environs of New Ulm. Greg Schaffer found the idea of foreign mission work intriguing, but he could not have been happier doing what he loved most, teaching high school. His colleagues in the local ministry, also content in their first assignments, and with no real sense of what was going on in that part of the world politely turned the bishop down. But he didn’t drop the subject. It came up again and again, each time a little more firmly suggested, each time revealing tiny glimpses of the vast needs, both spiritual and physical, of the people of Guatemala, yet, at the same time, withholding the full scope of the gravity of the conditions in the altiplano where the parish was located. And each time there was reluctance on the part of Greg and his peers, though he could feel his resistance wearing down. When the subject came up one last time, the bishop, desperate to complete the staffing down there, essentially told his potential recruits that there was really little choice in the matter. The parish assignment was not a casual consideration, it was part of God’s larger picture. Greg finally said yes, he would go, convinced that this was what the social gospel was all about. Interestingly, he had assumed that everyone else being recruited would also agree to go and that the bishop would have to employ some kind of selection criteria, but as it turned out, he was the only one who agreed to go. They all remained in the comfort of their stateside assignments and he was off to the hope and uncertainty of Guatemala.

Father Greg had not been in San Lucas Tolimán even a whole month when, to his astonishment, the priest in charge was called back to the states for active duty in Minnesota’s Air National Guard. Suddenly he was the senior pastor. If the project was to succeed, it would do so only under his guidance. A weaker man might have thrown up his arms in despair. There was no established blueprint for this sort of thing, and for one with only a minimal command of Spanish, made worse by the fact that Spanish was not even the primary language of his parishioners, the task ahead was genuinely foreboding. The community--mostly Cakchiquel farmers-- was predictably poor. Years of neglect had left the physical and social infrastructure in tatters, making the prospects of economic and social development daunting, at best.

The situation in San Lucas Tolimán was no different than that of nearly every other indigenous community in the country--there was a severe shortage of land. The community lay right in the heart of one of the most fertile coffee producing regions in the entire country. One couldn’t find richer, blacker soil anywhere in the world than right there in the altiplano of Guatemala. Over the course of nearly 500 years, the descendants and followers of the original Spanish conquistadors had acquired more and more of the lands that had once been occupied by the descendants of the great Mayan civilizations of old. The Cakchiquel of San Lucas Tolimán endured their losses with resolve, and in the last half of the 20th century there existed a tenuous equilibrium in which the community was bounded by coffee fincas to the south and west, Lago Atitlán to the north and a steep 2000 ft. ridge to the east. Approximately 40,000 people, 20,000 in the main town of San Lucas Tolimán and another 20,000 in 21 outlying villages, were sandwiched between these boundaries. The only window for growth came from exploiting a tiny sliver of unused land between two fincas to the southwest, which necessitated planting their crops of corn and beans literally up the sides of the huge volcanoes Tolimán and Atitlán.

An economist might characterize the above equilibrium of San Lucas Tolimán and its coffee growing neighbors as one of Pareto Optimality, in that any redistribution (of land) away from the existing allocation would result in one party or the other being made worse off as a result. A purely utilitarian argument might go further to suggest that overall gains in output, productivity and efficiency would derive from the economies of scale that would result if even more of the fertile lands of San Lucas Tolimán were allocated to the production of coffee instead of the subsistence farming of the Cakchiquel. In fact, these precise arguments have provided the justification over the years for the absorption of indigenous lands into the great latifundia system of agriculture and for the refusal to consider seriously any proposals for land reform.

The Fundamental Theorem of Welfare Economics would add the additional insight that if an allocation occurring in the market place, such as that of San Lucas Tolimán, or in any of hundreds of other similar communities, were deemed to be socially inefficient, or socially unjust, (i.e., not maximizing society’s social welfare function), even if it were Pareto Optimal, then it might be appropriate for the government to intervene on the side of justice.⁹ This, of course, has never happened in Guatemala except during the brief experiment with agricultural reform in 1952 under the Arbenz administration.¹⁰ For two years following the passage of the Agrarian Reform Law, decree 900, much of the unused land of the largest plantations was expropriated by the revolutionary government (with compensation to the owners based on their own tax records). As many as 500,000 indigenous and poor ladino campesinos out of a population of only 3 million received property and there were many more parcels of land awaiting the results of judicial review. To these thousands of beneficiaries and many more waiting with hope, agrarian reform was truly "the most precious fruit of the revolution." But to those whose lands were taken, this was the worst possible kind of government intrusion into the marketplace (certainly not a Pareto Optimal redistribution from their vantage point); this was communism. And so it seemed also to the United Fruit Company (the largest landholder in the country) and other U.S. investors and government officials who helped support a military coup that brought the revolution to an end in June, 1954. Much of the ensuing "counterrevolution" entailed the immediate return of the expropriated lands to their legal owners and the consolidation of the power of the oligarchy and the military to assure that never again could something as radical as land reform be attempted in Guatemala.

The counterrevolution was in full swing when Father Greg arrived at the parish on Palm Sunday, 1964. The idea that the government might be an institution to which to turn regarding the need for land or to aid in disputes with the finca owners, a concept the Padre carried with him from his high school government and civics classes, was something he had to unlearn quickly. The politics of counterrevolution was not something that had been discussed in the seminary. Deftness was required in dealing with the governmental and military authorities (ever present in the altiplano communities) and such tact could only be learned on the job.

The rebel insurgency was also operative by 1964. This was an armed guerrilla movement that had arisen from several sectors of Guatemalan society, not the least of which was the countryside itself. The oppressive conditions in the altiplano and in Izabal and Zacapa following the collapse of the revolution became breeding grounds for the movement. Stripped of everything but the ability to endure endless hardships on the plantations, many indigenous found themselves embroiled in a life-long battle for survival. Many fled to Guatemala City and created communities out of cardboard and barbed wire in the ravines at the edge of town. However, in the city they found discrimination, unspeakable working conditions and low wages. To many of these survivors of the violence of the altiplano, the guerrilla movement appeared to be the only way out.¹¹

If one needed to identify an official starting point for the guerrilla insurgency it would be 13 November, 1960, when a group of young military officers staged a coup to try and oust the oppressive Ydígoras regime.¹² Their concern was nationalist in nature--they were disturbed by the perceived hegemony of the U.S. over Guatemala and particularly upset over the use of Guatemala as a training ground for Cuban exiles and eventual launchpad for the Bay of Pigs invasion. While the rebellion was quickly put down, the spirit did not die and some of the leaders were especially heartened by their contact with the rural peasantry who had given them assistance when the coup attempt failed. With many hardships and setbacks, the insurgency flourished.

The manner in which the military dealt with individuals and communities suspected of aiding the rebel forces was swift and sure. Thus, like the young father mentioned earlier, one made contact with the insurgency infrequently and with utmost care. Early in Father Greg’s tenure, one of his parishioners was disappeared¹³--often times a precursor to torture and death if the person was thought to be even remotely connected to the guerrillas. To the best of his knowledge, the missing man was a simple farmer, one who wouldn’t know the difference between a capitalist or a communist, so Greg went to the local police seeking assistance. They were most cordial, but had no information as to the man’s whereabouts. In the ensuing days, the more he persisted in his line of inquiry, the less helpful the authorities became. When another of his parishioners suggested to him that some things were better left unanswered in this part of the world, he realized that his education about the politics of Guatemala had begun.

A people-first approach

Father Greg further realized that if issues of land and infrastructure were to be addressed at all, it would have to be done, not by the government, but rather by the people themselves with the support of the church. In his mind, this ordering--that the people and their needs came first--was critical to the success of the entire operation. The sessions of Vatican II, which would yield revolutionary change, were still under way in Rome, but Greg was already at the vanguard of the new Catholic view of missionary work. The role of the church, as he saw it, was to empower the people rather than to simply save souls. Empowerment would come from enhancing and enriching the whole person "spiritually, intellectually and physically." Given the impoverished condition of the people, this translated into a day to day ministering to those suffering from the ravages of poverty. Some aspects, such as immediate hunger or disease could be addressed in the short-run. Other problems, such as a lack of land, education, employment or even hope, were issues that would have to be addressed over a period of years.

Father Greg was a visionary rather than a community planner. He could imagine the day when the people of San Lucas might be a little better educated, stand a little taller, feel a little prouder, own their own homes, businesses and farms and be a little more self-sufficient, but he was not, himself, a home builder, businessman or farmer. Rather, he was a teacher and a communicator, and was especially knowledgeable about how to bring out the best in people. This special skill was in evidence early on, for example, when the burgeoning staff was in need of better housing. He was standing one day in front of the church pondering the location for a new home for the Sisters who were expected to arrive within the year, when a local man by the name of Bartolo Juárez came up. After a few moments of discussion and sizing up each other, Bartolo said, "You have come here to help. I, too, would like to help. I can assist you in getting men to work, and also in directing them." Greg knew immediately that he had the right man to assist him. As he put it, having Bartolo show up that day "was like having someone sent directly by God."

Local resource-use

One of the most critical decisions Greg ever made came shortly after Bartolo’s arrival--one that would guide all future parish activity. When their discussions turned to the specifics of the actual construction details, rather than bring in professional builders from the outside, it was decided to create employment opportunities within the local community--to allow internally generated wages to circulate through the local economy. It was further hoped that there would be a deepening of the talent pool because of skills learned on the job by some of the newly employed, and which would provide benefits to the economy again and again through a multiplier effect.

Using structural plans prepared by a student civil engineer, and with the services of a local stone mason (one of very few experts in the region), construction began. Again, in an effort to use as many local resources as possible and to keep wages and incomes circulating within the community, a decision was made, on the advice of the stone mason, to use cut stone indigenous to the area. Beautiful volcanic rock of high quality was in abundance practically anywhere one looked. As most of the workers were previously employed on the coffee fincas, they had much to learn from the stone mason. But the young men were eager students, and in the six months it took to build the convent, many new skills were acquired--some learned the art of structural planning and a sizable number became quite talented in the art of stone masonry. Nearly a dozen men achieved the status of "master mason" in a short period and were then in a position to take on apprentices of their own. San Lucas Tolimán was suddenly awakening to the prospects of real economic development.

Other immediate needs included a school and an orphanage to house the many children without parents living in the area. The need for carpenters was obvious and once again, rather than turning to the expertise of outsiders, Father Greg and Bartolo identified a couple of local men, who, while quite inexperienced, were full of enthusiasm and willingness to learn a new trade. One of the men, Avelino Zelada had never even seen a blue print for a building, much less a ceiling structure for a stone school. Nevertheless, he "took ahold of a plan, did a night’s private study, asked a half dozen questions, and then went to work." The finished structure looks as good today as it did over 30 years ago, having served now two generations of schoolchildren of San Lucas. When Avelino left, there were many others to follow in his footsteps--willing to "come out of the coffee fields and off the volcanoes, to grow in stature and responsibility, quickly and surely."

Reforestation project

Construction projects, of which there were anticipated to be many (for the home-building projects had not even begun yet), required lumber, and lots of it. Once again, the choice could have been made to buy lumber from Guatemala City or some other location, but thinking long-term and with regard to the philosophy of sustainable local development, a decision was made to initiate an experimental tree farm that would attempt to produce the fastest growing and best quality trees. Along with the immediate jobs created by the farm itself, and the associated newly learned forestry skills, an entire industry grew up along side it devoted to the art of sawing trees into lumber.

As with many of the projects that were to come on-line, critical decisions had to be made regarding the use of local resources and talent. Certainly the technology existed to produce lumber that would meet the most exacting specifications, but such technology was expensive and would employ few workers. Recognizing the serious need for the people of San Lucas to hold jobs in the community, to employ as many as possible and to pay a living wage, it was decided to use very labor intensive techniques. While this would seem to operate against all the basic principles of economic efficiency, it adequately served the needs of the community in that seven work crews of approximately 2-3 men were employed by this project early on.

The process of self-sufficient development requires creative use of all resources. Waiting patiently on trees to mature is a tedious process and it was discovered along the way that a local resource which grows in abundance is bamboo. The mature bamboo stalks, in spite of having a hollow core, are as sturdy as 2x4 boards and are frequently used to provide structural support for ceilings and roofs. The most recent parish project, a full service hospital, completed just this year, made use of this ancient, but reliable building material.

Reflection on the successes of the forestry project suggested the possibility of a full-scale reforestation project. The skills and resources were in place to go far beyond the immediate problem of providing lumber, to begin addressing the serious problem not only in the Lake Atitlán area but throughout the country of deforestation and erosion. The encroachment of agroexport farming places severe strains on the ecosystem and keeps indigenous peoples ever on the move in search of farm land. Areas once thought to be totally unsuitable for farming--forests and mountains--are being stripped bare at an alarming rate. In fact, the main evidence of human development from a boat in the middle of Lake Atitlán, is not the high rise hotels or plush homes one might expect from a location of such beauty, but rather plowed corn fields half way up the steep sides of the volcanoes.

Begun initially on a modest scale, the reforestation project, in existence now for more than 20 years, is internationally recognized. It embodies the popular saying, "Think globally, act locally." Management of the project generates local employment, the trees help to address the needs of the community for lumber and firewood, and the seedlings are available to anyone for help in reforestation and erosion control efforts. Individuals and government representatives from all over Latin America come to buy the sturdy, fast growing trees at minimal or sometimes no cost.

Health care

Another of the missing infrastructural pieces when Father Greg arrived was health care facilities--there were no doctors or nurses, only curanderos. Only on an occasional basis might doctors and nurses from the United States and Europe come as volunteers for a brief stay. One of the first parish projects was to build and staff a clinic. Health care was administered on a non-discriminatory basis to all at a price they could afford. For those in need of long-term hospital stays, the parish arranges the care and helps with the payments. A nutritional clinic was also established to address the many cases of severe malnutrition of the children of the community. These services have been recently updated by the completion of a new hospital that combines the services of the clinic and the nutritional center into an expansive modern facility. Much of the equipment, including surgical chairs, tools, beds, etc. was donated from facilities in the U.S. that were in the process of upgrading. In addition to two resident physicians on staff and a number of nurses, the hospital will continue to benefit from a growing number of visiting doctors and dentists who come on an annual basis, bringing large quantities of medicine and their expertise.

One of the more important outreach programs of the parish involves the provision of health care promoters in the outlying communities and fincas. This program falls under the purview of Father John Goggin who arrived in the parish in 1967.  What he encountered upon his first visits out into the campo were communities of workers (colonias) living in permanent residence on the plantations.  This semi-feudal arrangement was the result of years of changing land holding patterns in which many of the original inhabitants of the area had been pushed off their ancestral lands in favor of large-scale export-oriented farming.

Guatemalan law requires that land owners with permanent colonias must provide basic services such as shelter, water, schooling and health care, in addition to the provision of minimum wages (currently Q14/day).  Unfortunately, inadequacies frequently occur in a number of these areas.  In fact, grinding poverty and deprivation are the order of the day.  A trip with Father John in his ever-faithful jeep along the badly rutted roads to one of the colonias reveals, especially through the eyes of the children, a sense of destitution unimaginable to most outsiders.   However, upon closer inspection there is also a glimmer of hope and pride that has resulted from years of the parish's good work in filling in the many gaps of service not provided by the owners.

There are, of course, spiritual needs to be met, along with health care and educational deficiencies that the various parish programs are designed to speak to.   In the early days, Father John attempted on his own to address basic health care needs by carrying simple medicines like aspirin and eye drops (to cure pink eye) on his visits.  For those requiring extensive medical care, Father John would simply drive them into San Lucas to the clinic at the end of the day.  Over the years as he became overwhelmed by the magnitude of the people's needs, the program evolved toward the present day system of voluntary health care promoters who work side by side with the people in the communities, yet stay in close contact with the health care team in San Lucas and the visiting doctors, especially in the cases of serious problems.

Education

All of the various projects being described must be seen as part of a larger picture, but no single part is more important than education, both academic and spiritual. When the parish project began, the literacy rate in the area was less than 3%. While the need to assist the people of San Lucas in becoming functioning members of society, i.e., teaching them to read, write and work with numbers, was great, a more vital need, especially in the early days was to give them a vision and hope for the future. Thus, a spiritual base of learning came first--teaching the parishioners that God loves each of them unequivocally, and that returning this love is done through "love, work and service with and for our neighbor." This "good news" is shared with the people through a type of Salvation History, showing how God has worked among his people through the ages, and continues to do so. This word is spread by more than 100 local volunteer catechists who work in San Lucas and the surrounding communities. Taking into account the fact that the area is approximately 85% indigenous, the richness of the Mayan heritage is fully incorporated into the Christian message that God’s love is for all people.

When the first parish school opened its doors in 1968, 250 kids benefited from the good services of the School Sisters of Notre Dame. Today, the parish educates more than 600 children annually and employs over 50 teachers (once again circulating wages within the community) who work, not only in the parish school, but also in the various extended communities of San Lucas. Some even teach in some of the nearby fincas, as part of an outreach program to kids in those locations who would otherwise not receive an education. While the focus has traditionally been on the elementary age children, the parish actively encourages students to continue their education into junior and senior high school, or even at the university level by offering scholarships.

As a result of some of the successes encountered in the various building, forestry and other parish related projects, the parish has formalized an apprentice program as another option for continuing education. Training is offered in areas such as agriculture, stone masonry, carpentry, electricity, plumbing, and lumber cutting. The graduates of this program--more than 250 since its inception-- take their newfound skills back into the community and add to the growing wealth of human capital. It is hard to describe the joy and elation associated with having just acquired a new professional skill or talent, especially if all that person has ever known is the hardship of being an underpaid day laborer on a coffee finca. Likewise, it would be difficult for an economist to put a price tag on the feelings of self-worth, independence and self-reliance that come from having meaningful career opportunities for the first time ever.

The teachers in both the schools and in the apprentice program are ever mindful that they are educating the next generation of parents and community leaders. If change and improvement is to come to San Lucas Tolimán, it must be initiated with the young people. The parish priests, sisters and many volunteers from around the world constantly remind themselves that, as foreigners, it is not their role to try to affect change in the attitudes of the people. The best they can do is to provide a warm, safe, caring environment in which such evolutionary growth will take place among the people themselves. The thousands of confident, successful graduates from the parish schools over the years and the hundreds of prosperous businesses and farms that had their genesis either directly or indirectly from the apprentice program or from the various parish construction projects are testaments to this approach.¹⁴ Further evidence of the success of this holistic approach is the finding from a recent survey indicating that San Lucas now has a literacy rate of 85%.

Land

Addressing the issue of land, or rather, the lack of it, was one of the most vexing problems the parish faced. With many of the issues already mentioned, such as the need for education, the solution was relatively straightforward; you build a school, obtain the services of some volunteers and begin educating the children. Regarding land, there was the unfortunate stumbling block of having virtually no additional land available for expansion and development. Greg envisioned a three-point plan containing short-run and long-run elements. In the short-run, given the situation of being nearly land-locked, it was decided to immediately put as much available adjacent mountain land into production as possible. This typically meant the cultivation of tree crops such as fruit trees, avocado trees, and trees for hardwood lumber. While this solution addressed the need for building materials and food to a limited extent, it still did not deal with the problem of housing and overall nutritional needs.

To address this greater issue of housing and food, the parish staff embarked on a program (which eventually came to be called the San Lucas Development Program) to determine the optimal size of a parcel in town on which a family could sustain itself. This was vastly more complicated than the task facing a real estate developer in the U.S. whose main concern is how many homes can be comfortably and profitably squeezed into a given plot of land. First of all, there were few available plots of land that were not already being used. Second, the optimal size depended not only on the dimensions of the house, but on the amount of land needed to grow enough food for a family to live on over the course of a year.

A lot of community education was needed to make this program work. While some took formal courses on agriculture in Huehuetenango, others began experimental work on various aspects of the program. They started planting a variety of vegetables to determine growth rates and soil needs. Rather than depend on expensive chemical fertilizers (something not produced locally anyway), they embarked on a composting program. With great difficulty, they convinced people not to burn off last year’s corn stalks, but rather to gather them, along with other organic roughage, abiding by the philosophy that "what comes from the soil should return to the soil." Success came slowly. They learned to mix in a number of layers: leaves, weeds, husks and stalks in one layer; animal manure on another, a layer of dirt, some lime and a frequent hosing of water to keep the mixture wet, helping to ensure that it would decompose as quickly as possible. In using only organic matter in the pilot gardens, they learned that they could get as many as four crops a year in some vegetables.

Prior to the start of this program, there was little diversity in the assortment of crops produced. Taking advantage of 60 inches of rain during the rainy season, they eventually discovered that the soil, in conjunction with the organic compost, would yield almost any kind of vegetable, fruit or tree. At an elevation of 5,200 ft. above sea level, in a tropical area surrounded by mountains, there were few limitations as to what might grow there. Over the years the experimental gardens turned into a full-scale experimental farm where new varieties are tested and where seedlings are grown which families can plant in their own gardens.

Two commodities of note have come out of this experimental farm--coffee and honey. Over the years they have developed export quality coffee beans and honey made from African Killer Bees. The proceeds from the sale of these products helps to keep the farm growing and expanding and helps local farmers as well. One of the particularly special aspects of the farm is that it also offers local producers a buyers market for their produce. Rather than selling to the large agribusinesses which offer prices on a take it or leave it basis, these small producers may offer their produce to the San Lucas Development Program which will buy their output at a set price, regardless of market fluctuations. In the case of coffee, market prices might drop as low as Q50 per hundred weight, yet the program would still buy their coffee at Q200,¹⁵ a price that was established on the basis of the cost of living of the farmers in the area, rather than the vicissitudes of the market. The ability to offer above-market prices for coffee is the result of the  Development Program operating with a zero profit margin.  This arrangement obviously does not meet any of the traditional standards of economic efficiency, but nevertheless, these farmers and their families are able to lead fuller and more independent lives as a result.

The project also experimented with the raising of small animals for food. A Peace Corps volunteer helped initiate the experiment with a donation of three Hampshire gilts from a pure-bred pig project in Patzicia, a nearby community. The experiment blossomed from there to include rabbits, pigeons, sheep, goats, ducks, geese, chickens and turkeys as well. This expansion into the area of meat products was not without difficulty. In the case of the pigs, there was virtually no one in town who knew anything about butchering. Father Greg noted that in the early days of the project, one might set out to cut pork chops and end up with something indistinguishable from a pork ear, this, in spite of trying to diligently follow a picture chart provided by the Wilson Meat Company. In the case of the rabbits and pigeons, there was much reluctance on the part of the people to raise these animals. The only way to convince them was through persistent efforts on the part of the children who kept bringing them into the homes. According to Greg, it worked. Apparently the underlying problem here was an old Cakchiquel superstition regarding these animals. It was said of them, "Anyone who raises pigeons or rabbits will always stay poor." Nevertheless, with the diligence of the children, the volunteers and some assistance from outside organizations, the animal breeding program progressed, slowly, but steadily, and the cuts of meat became more recognizable! The only interruption in the evolution of this program came with the expansion of the war in the 1980s, when many of the animals were stolen from their pens, presumably to be used as food by the combatants.

After much experimentation it was decided that homesites on a plot 100’x50’ would allow a family to provide for its basic needs, if they were to pursue a regimen of farming and animal husbandry as developed under the experimental program. The housing aspect worked much like today’s Habitat for Humanity program. Invariably, there would be more families in need of land and housing than actual sites, and the selection process would be handled by a neighborhood housing committee affiliated with the parish. If the selected family owned no land, which was typically the case, then the parish would assist in the purchase of an available plot, covering the entire cost if need be. The family would then proceed to make small monthly payments at no interest. Because of general inflation and rising land costs, the house and land might cost US$5000, but the new owner would only pay US$100 with payments stretched out over time. This cost is for land and materials only--all labor is donated from local volunteers and those working with the apprentice program.

To receive housing assistance under this program, a family must agree to participate in the small scale farming and animal husbandry program. This generally entails planting grass, a vegetable garden, various trees and raising at least two kinds of animals. The volunteers, with their years of experience in the experimental agriculture program stand ready to assist the families in these new endeavors. The man of the house is expected to attend classes in agriculture. Overcoming an initial reluctance, the men eventually come to see the real value of the farm projects. For example, if a family raises 25 chickens, using only about half of them, it can eat six eggs a day and gain additional income from selling the others. As another example, a family raising one buck and four doe rabbits can eat one rabbit a day for two years.

There is also  a homemaking aspect to the program in which the family is encouraged to use the new efficient stoves which have come out in recent years. The closed-fire technology they employ improves the quality of life for the families in three major ways. First, it involves a significant reduction of smoke and fumes which get spewed into the living quarters--a leading cause of respiratory ailments for children. Second, stove-top cooking is is significantly safer than an open fire.  It is not an uncommon occurrence for kids to get scalded when they accidentally tip over a pot of boiling water that is resting precariously upon three stones. Finally, the stove requires much less wood than the more traditional open fire approach and thus represents a cost savings to the families.

The housing and agricultural program just described offered many families the opportunity to put their lives in order and look to the future with some hope. The brightest possible future for all of San Lucas would entail the acquisition of additional land. The procurement of more land was the centerpiece of the last of the three-point program. This final point required patience. While it is indeed rare that parcels of choice coffee land come up for sale, it occasionally happens, perhaps when there is a death in a family and the proceeds from the sale are needed by the surviving spouse more than the land itself, or when a son or daughter inherits some land and has no interest in agriculture. Such land, when it does come available, is prohibitively expensive. A tiny plot of land, 100’x50,’ just big enough for a modest home and garden, as mentioned, might cost US$5,000, certainly beyond the reach of most Guatemalans. The per capita income for the country is only US$1,100 and that of course is an average of everyone from landless campesinos to the fabulously wealthy.

This is where the church plays a significant redistributive role in the community. By channeling funds raised abroad from the diocese of New Ulm and from various outside foundations into the Christian Action Committee, the parish civic group, the citizens of San Lucas are able to make competitive bids on the parcels as they come available. When possible, attempts are made to provide families with three acre parcels, two of which would be used for private provisioning and the third for the production of crops for export, such as coffee. Over the years 2000 families have received property in this manner. Given an average family size of approximately six, this means that roughly 12,000 people, out of a population of only 20,000 in San Lucas proper, or 40,000 if the surrounding communities are included, have received land who previously were landless. Seen in this manner, on a percentage basis, the parish’s land assistance program has been far more successful than even the Arbenz agrarian reform program prior to 1954. Best of all, it occurred without conflict and divisiveness.

Conflict and Resolution

How is it, that in a country where violence is practically a way of life, this one community located right in the heart of one of the conflictive zones, has avoided the worst of it, and not become another statistic like Santiago Atitlán, only 16 km. up the road, with its famous 1990 massacre, or like any of the 440 villages that were literally wiped from the map during the worst years of violence? There must be more to it than good intentions and good works, because there has been an abundance of those things in many of the communities that have suffered over the years.

Father Greg and the rest of the parish staff of San Lucas Tolimán have played instrumental roles in helping to guide the community down a path of non-violence all these years. From the moment he arrived he was tested almost daily with scenes of the worst poverty and associated malnutrition one could imagine, along with scenes of discrimination, hatred, abuse by the landowners and even occasional disappearances like the one mentioned earlier. One’s gut instinct, especially as a foreigner, is to lash out at the source of the violence, especially when it appears to be institutionalized; to appeal to the authorities, and demand instant justice. But the wheels of justice turn slowly in Guatemala and occasionally in a different direction than what one might hope for. You need more than one hand to count the number of priests in Guatemala who witnessed first-hand the injustices in their parishes, and turned their ministries in a radical or confrontive direction in the hopes of addressing their problems (with some even going so far as to join the guerrilla movement) and, as a result, bringing swift retribution to themselves and their communities.¹⁶

Father Greg’s solution to this daily dose of injustice was to constantly remind himself of why he was there in the first place--to bring hope and the message of salvation to the people of San Lucas Tolimán. He was actually quite fortunate to have arrived in the manner that he did; with the barest command of the language, no prior exposure to the politics or the subtle mixing of the Mayan and Hispanic cultures, and on top of all that, to have been thrown into the senior pastor position in the first month. In many ways this led to a reversal of the traditional roles of the priest and his parishioners--he was essentially dependent on them. He was from the powerful United States of America, yet he, himself, was totally powerless. There was so much to learn and who better to teach him than the good citizens of San Lucas, who, perhaps because of his powerlessness, felt comfortable in opening up to him. From them he discovered, as in the aforementioned case of the man who was disappeared, that there were certain issues that one should not press too far; certain questions best left unanswered. Every time he felt like lashing out at the sources of injustice, there was one of his parishioners gently holding him back, urging him to show some restraint. They knew from experience, as well as from hearsay, that responding to the violence in a confrontive manner would increase the chances that an even greater harm might result.

Retrospectively speaking, one could say that in 1964 San Lucas was a community bursting at the seams with skills, talents, a spirit of voluntarism, and most especially leadership, though many of these attributes had never been actively encouraged or welcomed. Father Greg’s unique contribution was being able to tap into this spirit and to empower the people in such a way that they felt comfortable exercising their leadership skills. He has speculated that in some of the communities that have suffered, the priests involved did not allow the locals much latitude to provide the leadership and drive that would contribute to community building.

Did San Lucas ever face the same choices as the young father at the start of the chapter? Quite often. Located in one of the regions in which the guerrilla forces were most active, it would have been surprising if the community had not been exposed to its share of crisis and conflict. Early on, armed rebels would come through the community asking for food and shelter. The community leaders’ survival instincts told them to resist these overtures--that offering assistance could only lead to trouble. For himself, Father Greg rejected the idea of fighting violence with more violence. His heroes were Ghandi, Martin Luther King and Dorothy Day of the Catholic Worker program, each espousing a non-violent approach to conflict resolution. In spite of the noble cause the guerrillas were fighting, he simply could neither endorse nor support their violent methods.

What made it easier to resist the rebels was the fact that the parish programs, with their focus on sustainable, local development, were beginning to have an effect on the lives of the citizens of San Lucas. People were learning to read and write. Their newfound knowledge of mathematics helped to ensure that when they went to the marketplace they would not be cheated. Many of them were, for the first time ever in their lives, in possession of a secure home and a career that paid a living wage. But most of all, they had hope and a faith in a God that loved them for who they were. They didn’t need the rebels and didn’t want to become entangled with them and be faced with the reprisals that would surely come from such contact.

The guerrillas did not necessarily give up so easily, though--they came again and again, and each time they were firmly, yet politely turned away.  In a sense, the guerillas never stood a chance of gaining a foothold in San Lucas.  They had grandiose ideas of what a free and egalitarian Guatemala might look like and were willing to fight for those ideals, but San Lucas was already moving in these directions, without resort to violence.  So while their approaches were dramatically different, their goals were similar and it could never have been the case that the rebels would have found fault with the economic and social outcomes in the community.  There was simply no foothold to be gained in San Lucas.

All the while, the community remained "up front" with both the military and the rebel forces. Greg assured the military that no assistance was being given to the rebels and invited the soldiers to come to town anytime to inspect. They would be welcome at meetings, church dinners, mass, etc. because they had nothing to hide. They made it clear though that their clinic would not turn anyone away who was in need of medical care for any reason. The military respected this and over the years, the doctors and nurses ministered to large numbers of both rebels and soldiers.

But being up front with the military did not necessarily result in special treatment, however. During the early 1980s at the peak of the violence, basic freedoms throughout the country were badly trampled, e.g., the freedom of assembly. Initially, the military imposed an evening curfew which brought nighttime meetings and worship in San Lucas to a halt. Later, with suspicions of guerrilla activity throughout the altiplano running at a fever pitch, there was an edict that three or more people could not gather for meetings or discussions. The parish had no choice but to patiently wait this out and quietly go about its business of building homes and treating sick and malnourished children at the clinics. Fortunately, these restrictions were short-lived.

The following example illustrates the deftness required to negotiate the narrow path of non-violence and non-alignment. Two years ago some soldiers were killed by some guerrilla forces in a nearby village with which San Lucas had occasional commercial dealings. In fact, the parish’s farm had just contracted to sell a certain amount of corn to this village. Father Greg was immediately concerned that the military might assume that San Lucas was indirectly assisting the rebels and would seek to punish the town in some way. So he quickly drove to see the military commander in charge of the area whom he had grown to know over the years. He assured him that the contract to deliver the corn had been drawn up long before the rebel forces had made their presence known in the village and he presented the paperwork to prove it. The commander was satisfied and no more was ever said about the issue.

In addition to its strict policy of not assisting the rebels, the parish was able to help the community earn the respect of the military through its extensive outreach programs. The more care and attention that was given to some of the outlying communities, in the form of food, educational, and medical assistance, the less likely they would seek or accept assistance from the guerrillas. As a concrete example, over the years the parish helped establish 21 schools throughout the region. No one else was building schools at this time and such activity was thus welcomed by the authorities. On another occasion, the parish received a significant donation from the United States of three fire trucks. It kept one and gave the other two to the community of Sololá, the capital of the departamento. Lastly, as the parish programs grew and its good works became internationally recognized, volunteers would come from around the world to see just exactly what was going on in this special community. The glare of international attention could not but help to diminish the chances of any untoward military advances against the community.

There erupted in 1984 a serious firefight between the military and the guerrillas in San Lucas. When the fighting stopped and the rebel forces were pushed out of town, the military commander came to the community leaders and told them that the military appreciated the fact that the guerrillas had come to town, not to seek assistance from the citizenry, but rather to specifically attack the military outpost located there. The commander assured them that they had nothing to fear from the military. What followed from this was a frank discussion in which the community leaders boldly asked the military to locate elsewhere so that the rebels would not have an excuse to come looking for trouble. Eventually they did just that.

An attempt on the part of the military to create a civilian defense patrol was firmly met with resistance. Such patrols were a way of extending the arm of the military without having to use troops. Villagers would be required to patrol for a 24 hour stretch every week or so, being watchful for guerrilla activity. For most villages, this created incredible hardships, not the least of which was the lost work time every week. Given their already amicable relationship with the military, the people of San Lucas firmly resisted this effort. A teacher boycott blossomed into a community-wide boycott. The idea never caught on.

As recently as two years ago, San Lucas Tolimán took the bold step of getting rid of its local police force. Like its neighbor, Santiago Atitlán, the community came to the conclusion that the police force, which was not composed of local men, nor paid out of local funds, was more of a contributor to local violence and killings than a protective institution. With the assistance of a respected human rights lawyer, they were able to appeal to the authorities in Sololá and have the police station shut down. The community is at the vanguard of a new system of community protection whereby their own civil patrols, known as vigilancias, oversee the safety of the streets. It is a distinct honor to be a part of this community effort. All of the participants are unpaid volunteers who patrol in the evening hours identifiable by their white arm bands and armed with nothing other than flashlights and whistles. The amount of crime has been reduced considerably since the advent of the patrols.

Lessons in economic development

According to Richard Barnet and Ronald Müller,

"Poor countries are poor because they are deficient in what economists call capital stock: that is, they lack the tangible (and expensive) infrastructures that enable modern developed societies to function and to create more wealth--roads, communications systems, schools, machines and factories.  But capital stock, unlike mushrooms, does not grow wild.  Its appearance at a particular time and place is the result of specific human decisions about investment taken in the past.  If a country is poor in wealth-producing structures (capital stock), it is because whoever controlled wealth in that country decided to invest their finance capital in something else or somewhere else (Barnet and Müller, 1974, pp. 134-135)."

Guatemala certainly comes to mind when one reads the above passage.  Yet, one of its smaller communities, San Lucas Tolimán, seems to be making significant headway in reversing a long history of poor investment decisions by making careful choices about such matters as the use of local labor and resources. Also, by investing heavily in the education of its citizens, it is empowering them with the all-important resource knowledge, what Barnet and Müller argue is the "essential ingredient" in the process of development (p. 135).

The development approach of San Lucas poses a bit of a problem for economic theorists. Has its approach been orthodox or non-orthodox? Neo-liberal or radical? And could it be replicated elsewhere?

Economic development theories are often viewed as existing along a continuum from orthodox theories such as those of Walter Rostow on the right, and updated in the 1980s by the neo-liberal school, to Marxian and dependency theories on the left, articulated by such writers as Raul Prebisch and Theotonio dos Santos. As noted earlier, the neo-liberal approach places great value on having a minimal role for the government, in that private initiative, along with financial incentives, are assumed to be the most direct routes to the generation of prosperity and wealth. Dependency theorists, on the other hand, would point out that in a country like Guatemala, the dominance of the private sector (from the early days of the conquest to the present) has resulted in an unhealthy dependency, especially on foreign markets, that has stifled its development opportunities. The dependency has been not only external, but internal as well, as indigenous communities, uprooted from their ancestral lands, have been forced to work as day laborers or seasonal migrant workers in the fields of the elite land owners. Food, which was once grown locally, is now only available from imported markets and distributed through local channels dominated by the oligarchy.

Just suppose for a moment that some of the burdensome dependent relationships could be lifted for a less-developed country, or community, which is what dependency theorists argue is minimally necessary for true economic development to occur. What path might it take? Might it look like the development of San Lucas Tolimán?

Aside from calls for a New International Economic Order, meeting basic needs first and the occasional suggestions that a stronger central government might help to offset the repressive conditions of international capitalism, dependency theory is somewhat vague when it comes to specific details regarding economic development. However, San Lucas offers a glimpse of what dependency-free development might look like, and the initial thought that comes to mind when one observes one of the community’s five cement block fábricas at work preparing blocks for the new hospital or when one strolls by the bustling vendors’ stalls on market day, is that this looks a lot like capitalism. It certainly doesn’t remind one of the capitalism of Silicon Valley, and it hardly resembles the primitive industrial capitalism that Adam Smith described in the opening pages of the Wealth of Nations where he extols the virtues of the division of labor within a pin making factory. Nevertheless, in the case, say, of the construction of the new hospital in San Lucas, Adam Smith, were he alive today, would likely find the situation there to be of great interest.

Take, for example, the cement blocks used in the construction of the facility. The blocks themselves started out as sand, cement (made from limestone and other trace minerals) and water. With the exception of the cement, which comes from Guatemala City, the water and sand (sand accounting for 90 percent of the dry materials) are obtained locally and result in the employment of small numbers of independent workers used to procure each resource. The cement block fábricas use manual presses to shape the blocks and each location employs two or three workers. The knowledge to operate and maintain these machines, as well as the masonry skills needed to lay the blocks into position for the hospital, came from the parish apprenticeship program and in turn resulted in jobs for the teachers. Some of the equipment and tools for the hospital came from foreign grants and donations—a reliance on external capital that is no different from any other project in the developing world. I believe this is what Adam Smith had in mind; vibrant markets generating jobs and local wealth; connections to external markets (in the case of the Guatemala City cement and funding for the hospital equipment); producing a facility that is going to result in improved health care for the citizenry, and which should redound in greater productivity and industriousness in the community and surrounding region.

Father Greg is not worried about labels, but he suggested that if the economic system of San Lucas Tolimán is to be referred to as capitalist, then it should be emphasized that this is capitalism with a small (rather than a capital) c. The market system of San Lucas, he is quick to point out, is nearly 100 percent agriculturally based. All of the various merchant and service activities, including the new hospital, exist to serve an agricultural population.

Also, what makes this capitalism with a small c is that the entire local economy, vibrant as it is, is not nearly as far along the development path as more advanced capitalist economies such as the United States. There have only been two generations of families to have benefited from the parish projects. As Father Greg notes, when the parish began its work, it was literally starting from scratch—no land, no infrastructure, and worse yet, no hope. The process of development is long and involved. The ultimate goal, according to Father Greg is for complete self-sufficiency—not in the sense of an isolated community, but rather in the sense that the community will will be able to function in Guatemala’s economy (with its connection to the rest of the world) without significant external dependencies. There is no particular interest in progressing through Rostow’s stages-of-growth with the end goal being a "high mass consumption" society (see Rostow, 1960). Father Greg has seen first-hand the negative effects on Guatemalan society resulting from the blind drive toward this goal by just a handful of the population and does not see it as beneficial for San Lucas.

In the meantime, the parish is actively involved in the process of development through means of all the various programs mentioned earlier. As the infrastructure improves, then it is hoped that the goal of self-sufficiency will be that much closer. Infrastructure in the case of San Lucas is meant in the broadest possible sense: skills, knowledge, hope, peace, stability, land, financing, etc.

Regarding self-sufficiency, one example will prove instructive. The reforestation project mentioned earlier is already an international success, producing quality trees for assistance in world-wide reforestation projects and lumber for local construction. Right now the project is only partially self-sufficient in that many of the trees are either given away or sold at cost. The only financial profits come from the sale of surplus trees when lots are thinned to allow for future growth. The long-run goal is for the project to be totally sell-sustaining and to return any surpluses to the community for further development. In the short-run, however, the goal has been to nurture the development of the seed strains so as to ensure the highest possible quality trees for the future. All the while, the local community, and the world as well, have been the beneficiaries of this experimental project. A side benefit of the no-cost/low-cost pricing of the trees is that a lot of goodwill has been built up for San Lucas vis-á-vis the rest of the Guatemala, something that has been in short supply for many communities. When one accounts for the various reasons why San Lucas has avoided the harsher aspects of the long-run violence in the country, such beneficence surely cannot be overlooked.

Two of the more important elements of capitalism (whether with a small or a capital c) are private ownership and the rewards that come from personal initiative. These aspects are in abundance in San Lucas Tolimán and have been at the heart of the parish’s programs from the beginning. The education and land projects in particular have facilitated expansion in these two areas. The people of San Lucas have shown that with the security that comes from land on which to provide for their sustenance, and job skills and related educational benefits, they are much more productive citizens.

Consider the case of the many families, which, through the land acquisition program, have been able to leave the finca communities and start their lives afresh on a plot of land they can call their own. Experience, along with a lot of educating of all parties involved, has shown that productivity and efficiency are enhanced all around. The finca owners have found that their overall cost of labor has actually gone down when they no longer have to provide community services (as required by law). It is true that a measure of uncertainty has now been introduced to their operations in that they no longer have a permanent work force on hand and are forced to hire labor at wages the market will bear. With careful planning, however, it is still possible to find seasonal help with little difficulty. The fact remains that there is a surplus of farm labor because the simple act of helping the former finca workers to relocate onto private parcels by no means guarantees their economic independence in the short-run. It is true that they will likely achieve a degree of self-sufficiency never before imagined when they have access to their own land, but probably not to the extent that all of their material needs will be met. Medicine and consumer durables, for example, remain quite expensive and out of the reach of ordinary citizens, thus making seasonal or day work on the fincas a logical option for supplementing their income.

Father Greg has made the observation over the years that the economic efficiencies that are supposed to occur under large-scale operations might be more theoretical than real. He has noted that the many families who have acquired the tiny three acre plots in San Lucas take immense pride in their land and work it with a caring and intensity that is simply not possible on one of the larger fincas. For example, migrant workers are brought in to the coffee fincas at harvest time and are paid by weight. "They pick as fast as possible and as much as possible," according to Father Greg, not taking the particular care of the trees and limbs that they would on their own farms. In addition, because of the scale of the large operations, pesticides and fertilizers are used in large quantities whether they are needed or not. On a smaller farm, an owner can personally investigate whether or not each stand of trees is in need of attention. In addition, organic compost provides a more nutritious alternative to the small operation that is simply impracticable for the large fincas. Therefore, over time, the trees of the small grower maintain their vibrancy, while those subjected to chemical additives and seasonal picking by migrant workers begin to experience diminishing yields. On a recent visit to San Lucas, I personally assisted a small family with their coffee harvest and the trees we were picking were over 80 years old, more than twice the age at which most trees on a finca lose their vitality.

On average, and over a wide range of crops (crops like corn, beans and squash), small growers can obtain at least three harvests from a single plot of land over the growing cycle and as many as six in the best cases. Larger growers might typically obtain one or possibly two harvests. Thus, where economic development theorists might frown upon the parish’s land acquisition program as an exercise in inefficiency, it would appear that the economists’ theoretical models simply can’t take into account critical differentials like pride of ownership and love of the land.

If this is capitalism at its best, then what is to be said of the neo-liberal variations that are promoted by the US Agency for International Development (AID), the World Bank or IMF? In Guatemala, AID monies have, in general, had a starkly political face, trying to foster peace and stability through the promotion of private sector export-oriented projects. Such projects include, but are not limited to funding of non-traditional food production, the development of the maquiladora industry, the construction of the highly controversial Chixoy Dam near the Río Negro community, and the construction of roads and "model" villages in the conflictive zones during the height of the war. According to Tom Barry, while AID funding has contributed to the modernizing of the private sector, poverty and landlessness have expanded (Barry, 1992, p. 266).

It is a fact that all of the countries of the world cannot be net exporters at the same time, yet neo-liberal policies would seem to have most of the countries of the developing world moving in that direction. The counterpart to an export-oriented economy, is that many products such as corn and beans, items which are not high on AID’s priority list, are now in short supply. For Guatemala to be a net importer of corn is unfathomable to the Mayan people. Corn, along with land is simply an integral part of their universe, and to be subjected to buying surplus corn from northern granaries is the ultimate insult.

What Guatemalans need more than maquiladora factories, snow peas and cauliflower,¹⁷ are opportunities for average communities to have access to the basic necessities of life—shelter, land, security and education. When provided with these things, people, not just in Guatemala, but all around the world have shown that they are quite capable of taking care of themselves and leading healthy productive lives, The community of San Lucas Tolimán is attempting to set an example for others to follow.

Returning finally to the question of the nature of the development approach undertaken by San Lucas Tolimán, it would appear that there is something for everyone. Dependency theorists, admiring all of the various locally owned and directed projects, would claim that this is evidence that San Lucas’ former state of underdevelopment was attributable to a dependent relationship with external forces and that real development will occur when such detrimental dependencies are eliminated. Orthodox theorists, admiring those same projects, would point to the efficiencies that resulted from the focus on private property and private initiative, the linchpins of capitalism.

But don’t forget that this is capitalism with a small c, somewhat like the capitalism of Adam Smith’s pinshop in comparison to Henry Ford’s Rouge plant in Detroit. Smith reminds us in the Wealth of Nations that there are a number of functions of society that are best handled by the government, not the least of which are infrastructural and educational needs. Neither the federal government of Guatemala, nor the municipal government of San Lucas, have served the community very well over the years. Federal monies designated for the various localities never seem to quite make it down to the community level where they might be put to some good use. Thus, municipalities like San Lucas are frequently left to fend for themselves, often pitted against the nearby plantation owners, especially in regard to the issue of land. Bribery and corruption become the only methods of dealing with inadequate budgets and inadequate oversight. It is in this environment that the parish of San Lucas Tolimán has come to play a vital role in the community. For over two generations now, it has filled in the gaps that might otherwise have been attended by a more benevolent local (and federal) government. In this sense, the parish has provided an example of what good government is all about—something of which we might also want to study here in the United States.

Conclusion.

The story of San Lucas is quite remarkable. Here is a community which, more than 30 years ago, was the poorest of the poor, yet today has a positively optimistic outlook, both economically and spiritually. It is a shining example that genuine development can come about not through the application of externally focused, neo-liberal economic policies, but rather through a focus on small-scale, internally focused, people-first, sustainable economic policies. "Economics as if people mattered," might be the way E.F. Schumacher would refer to the community’s programs. Rather than expensive, high-technology, imported solutions from the first world, what poor people need most of all, according to Schumacher, "(are) simple things--building materials, clothing materials, household goods, agricultural implements--and a better return for their agricultural products. They also need trees, water, and crop storage facilities." Most agricultural communities, he argues, "would be helped immensely if they could themselves do the first stages of processing their products."¹⁸

All of this and more has come over the years to San Lucas Tolimán and with it has come peace and a vision of hope for the future. Peace and economic development seemed to have gone hand in hand in a kind of chicken and egg scenario. The tension of violence resulting from years of economic decline was ever present when the parish projects began in 1964. As both spiritual and economic development progressed, the citizens were empowered in such a way as to resist the overtures of the guerrillas, which would surely have brought to them the wrath of the military. Thus, conflict was avoided, and with reduced tensions, further economic development was made that much easier. A vibrant, growing local economy coupled with an extensive outreach program put the community in a position then to be more demanding when it came to critical issues such as asking the military and the police forces to leave town, thus further reducing the chances for conflict. Each little success and each passing year, thus, brought renewed expectations for the future.

Compare the experience of San Lucas with any of the villages that experienced serious violence during the preceding decades. Many of these communities are just now returning from refugee camps in Mexico or other hiding places in an effort to restart their lives. They face the nearly impossible task of trying to rebuild their economies from scratch in a world of discrimination and violence. For advice on how best to proceed, they could do no worse than to look to the example of San Lucas Tolimán. Economists would also do well to take a closer look.

Footnotes

1. Quote attributed to the Jesuit priest from Uruguay, Juan Luis Segundo.

18. Schumacher, E.F., Small Is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered, (Perennial Library: New York, 1973).

References

Barry, T. (1992). Inside Guatemala. Albuquerque, NM: Inter-Hemispheric Education Resource Center.

Bread for the World (1990). Hunger 1990. Washington, DC: Bread for the World Institute on Hunger and Development.

Handy, J. (1994). Revolution in the Countryside. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press.

McAfee Brown, R. (1981). Making Peace in the Global Village. Philadelphia, PA: The Westminster Press.

McConnell, C. and S. Brue (1990). Economics (11^th ed.). New York: McGraw Hill.

Melville, A. (1992). With Eyes to See. Walpole, NH: Stillpoint Publishing.

Rosen, H. (1992). Public Economics (3^rd ed.). New York: Irwin.

Rostow, W. (1960). The Stages of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Schumacher, E.F. (1973). Small is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered. New York: Perennial Library.

Smith, A. (1985 [1776]). An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. New York: Modern Library College edition.

World Bank (1995). World Development Report, 1995. New York: Oxford University Press.