Chile
Chile has a had a historically complicated relationship with its indigenous groups, which number nine in total.
The largest group by far, according to the 2017 census, is the Mapuche (1,754,147 people), followed by Aymara (156,754), Diaguita (88,474), Atacameño (31,800), Quechua (27,260), Colla (16,088), Kawésqar (5,298), Rapanui (5,065), and Yámana or Yagán (131). This adds up to a total of 2,158,892 people, or 12.8% of Chile’s total population. However, only 1,585,680 people, or 9% of the population, are recognised as indigenous by statute.
These groups suffer Chile’s highest rates of poverty, illiteracy, and underdevelopment, according to the IWGIA. In 2017 the Araucanía Region, where 25% of the population is Mapuche, had the highest rate of poverty in the country (17.2%). This compares to a national average of 8.6% and highlights the unequal treatment of indigenous groups. A report from Chile’s Ministry of Social Development reveals that in 2017, 30.2% of indigenous people suffered multidimensional poverty, compared with 19.7% of non-indigenous, and indigenous people generally earn less money than non-indigenous people for similar jobs.
Chile may have created the Special Commission of Indigenous People (1993) and the National Corporation for Indigenous Development (1993), as well as adopting the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples in 2007 and ILO Convention 169 in 2008, but it is the only country in South America not to recognise indigenous peoples in its constitution. This has been a bone of contention for indigenous groups, whose rights are currently governed by a law that doesn’t meet the standards of international law on the rights of indigenous peoples, according to IWGIA.
In 2017 former president Michelle Bachelet launched a consultation process aimed at drawing up a new constitution, and a draft version was sent to the national legislature in March 2018, but the process is now suspended. Bachelet noted that her draft would address “an historic debt – constitutional recognition of indigenous people”, which has been a long-term promise to indigenous groups, but her successor President Sebastián Piñera has done nothing to address their demands. Instead he has antagonised the Mapuche with several moves including plans to revoke Convention 169 and two bills designed to open indigenous lands to business interests.
The Mapuche conflict centres around the demands for the restitution of ancestral lands, known collectively as Wallmapu, which stretch across Patagonia from the Argentine Atlantic to the Chilean Pacific coast. The Mapuche lands have been systematically eroded by intrusive campaigns since the first contact between Spaniards and the Mapuche. Since the return to democracy in 1990, the Chilean state has sold off lands in the region to forestry and other industries, igniting a violent struggle which has been suppressed by a heavy police presence and the controversial use of anti-terrorism laws to prosecute activists.
The November 2018 murder of Mapuche activist Camilo Catrillanca shone a further spotlight on the issue. Violent clashes and social unrest increased after the killing, and an April 2019 protest march calling for peace and the demilitarisation of La Araucanía shone another spotlight on the Mapuche struggle. The political committee of the Temucuicui Mapuche community called on all Chileans, not only Mapuche, to join in the march, with organisers also pushing the government to respect the Mapuche’s right to self-determination.
“We the Mapuche do not need to ask permission to protest, we just want to have a dialogue with the government, but this repression that we have yet again suffered from breaks off all progress of conversation with them,” Marcelo Catrillanca, Camilo’s father and one of the organisers of the march, told local daily El Austral Temuco. President Piñera described the events as a “setback” in relations between the government and the Mapuche, but the reality is that the Chilean state has never worked out how to interact with the Mapuche.
While the Mapuche have organised in community groups, they have been unable to enter electoral politics. There have been attempts to construct a Mapuche political party, but legal requirements have frustrated them. Mapuche activists signalled their intent to take back indigenous lands, defend natural resources, improve cultural cohesion, and revitalise traditional authorities, known as lonkos, under the banner of the Partido Nacional Mapuche Wallmapuwen. They want to make Wallmapu an autonomous region with an assembly and executive elected by the local population and ensure that Mapuche and non-Mapuche people can live under their own culture. This means ensuring the possibility of using the Mapuche language in state institutions and teaching it in schools.
The party filed papers to electoral authorities in 2007. However, to this day it has not been authorised due to rules which state that parties must register in eight of Chile’s 15 regions, or in three contiguous regions, as well as meeting requirements on the number of signatures from supporters. Pedro Mariman Quemenado, a member of the Partido Nacional Mapuche Wallmapuwen, said that the party couldn’t include material on the Mapuche flag, or the idea of Wallmapu, as electoral authorities considered it secessionist. He claims that this is discriminatory because it means the party cannot reflect Mapuche ideology. Mariman also claimed the party struggled for support due to popular disillusionment with party politics in general, and the fact that political parties aren’t a traditional form of Mapuche organisation.
Another issue is that Chile’s regional administrative officials, known as intendants, are appointed by the president. They chair ‘regional cabinets’, which are made up of officials from devolved ministries, and hand down instructions to regional governors, who are also appointed by the president. This means that although Chilean government is decentralised, its democracy isn’t. As a result, the Mapuche have struggled for representation on a regional and national level.
It is also interesting to note that while indigenous political movements are generally associated with ‘progressive’ or left-wing politics, Mapuche political organisation has been linked to right-wing conservatism since the 19th-century. This may have limited their ability to work with leftist organisations that are stereotypically seen as allies. The Mapuche have struggled to make inroads under governments of differing political stripes, said Rice. “They really don’t have many allies,” she said. “Even when it was a left turn government like Bachelet.”
Rice suggests that the Mapuche would benefit from guaranteed seats in Chile’s national congress, a practice that already exists in Colombia to ensure participation and provide an opportunity for parties to coalesce around them. “It’s a stepping stone to get into the system,” she said. Alternatively, the Mapuche should appeal to international actors for support, according to Rice. “The other strategy is to go transnational when a government is unfriendly, to name and shame them,” she said. This is particularly important with a fragmented, localised indigenous movement. “It’s very regionalised so it’s out of focus, especially from the capital city,” Rice added.
In summary the Mapuche experience of Chilean politics can be characterised as a frustrating one. “The Mapuche are very solid in their political culture” with a clear set of goals, said Dr Natividad Gutierrez Chong, a sociologist at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. However, there is no way they could participate politically because Chile is very backward in terms of indigenous political representation and the Mapuche have no official recognition, she said. The process of forming a party has proven too difficult for the Mapuche and they have given up on that route, said Gutierrez Chong. She believes that the Mapuche were pushed down the path of violent resistance by this closing of political space, and they will not stop making themselves visible. “The more they are denied by the state the more they will try to find another solution,” she said. Future outcomes depend on whether the government continues to criminalise protest or attempts to negotiate and minimise the cost of its current policy, said Gutierrez Chong.