The Maipo River runs through Cajon del Maipo, Comuna de San José, located about thirty miles southeast of Santiago. The Maipo basin is currently being developed despite the contested EIA and unscrupulous National Forest Corporation (CONAF)[1] approval of the Alto Maipo run-of-river project. Official project proposals started in 2007 and met local opposition (Orrego 2014). Analysis of the invasive tunneling system pointed to impacts beyond what the approved EIA depicted. Lack of total community resistance to Alto Maipo is apparent however, in addition to relatively less trans-regional and international support compared to the Bío Bío, HidroAsyén, Futaleufú, and Puelo cases. While various strategies are being utilized to curtail the projects’ forward momentum, influencing both Chilean and international investors, formally involved and not, is an arduous process. The Alto Maipo development is an accumulation of the convolutions of Chilean water rights allocation, political financial allegiances, weak environmental standards, trans-regional social dynamics, and local cultural obligations.
Project Details
Alto Maipo[2] is being constructed by American AES Gener and the Luksic Group, one of Chile’s wealthiest firms and families. If completed, the development would capture the majority of Maipo’s water through its main tributaries, the Volcán, Yeso, and Colorado, and include two underground power plants called Alfafal II and Las Lajas Colorado (Salvemos el Río Maipo 2015). The development is currently co-financed by the International Finance Corporation of the World Bank, U.S. Overseas Private Investment Corporation, and six commercial banks, now totaling in over $2 billion dollars (AES Gener 2015). As of 2012, there were at least four different groups contracted for construction, which included Austrian, German, and Italian companies (Kenyon 2012). The developers anticipate completing the system in 2018, and mining operations in the valley have been predicted to follow. Despite ongoing construction, organizations such as Red Metropolitana No Alto Maipo, Coordinadora Ciudana Ríos del Maipo, Ecosistemas, and Observatorio Latinomericano de Conflictos Ambiantales have emphasized the plan’s social, economic, political, and ecological misrepresented and undervalued impacts, as they work to gain exposure and ultimately halt the development.
Figure 4. This map displays the planned Alto Maipo run-of-river system, the tunnels depicted by the red dotted line and towns including San José de Maipo in black (Codoceo 2012).
Energy Contention
While Alto Maipo proponents estimate that the two plants would generate 530 MW of energy, other externally produced estimations, accounting for climate variation and drought conditions, approximate only 160 MW (Salvemos el Río Maipo 2015). Anthony Prior[3] explains that it would take about ten more projects to reach the MW capacity the developers are proposing. The Luksic groups’ Los Pelambres copper mine would be the main recipient of Alto Maipo’s energy (Escribano 2015). Unlike projects in the more southern regions, the energy transportation infrastructure and connection to SIC and the mine would be relatively simple. Furthermore, some community members in San José suggested that generated energy would not only flow to the growing mining sector, but also be exported to Argentina. Prior emphasizes Argentinian involvement, explaining that “the proof of this is that the same company years after project testing Alto Maipo, requested permission from the government to be able to export energy to Argentina through SIC” (translated by author).
Powerful Investors
The main developers, American AES Gener and the Luksic group, are two of the most well-known names in Chile. AES Gener is one of the three largest holders of non-consumptive water rights in Chile. Pinilla describes the Luksic group as the largest and most powerful family in the country. Maria Isabel Navarrete Ortega,[4] a leader of Mujeres Sin Fronteras, supports this notion explaining that she doubts the resistance movement will be successful because “what is happening with Alto Maipo is Luksic, and Luksic is the president of Chile, not Bachelet” (translated by author). In addition to these economic and thus political powers, Prior reiterates the point that although there is a vote it does not actually provide any leverage for the community’s opinions. From Fierro’s point of view, “it’s necessary to inform [a project] to the local community, with a process, the name this process is Participacion Ciudadana, or citizen participation, but this participation is not linked with the decision, it’s like psychology therapy for the people, thank you for your opinion but the decision is totally different, it’s politics.” Prior adds that the developers offer promises of work and money as their form of communication. This is clear in the town square’s weekend market. Many booths are sheltered by blue tents that read “Alto Maipo, AES Gener.” When asked about the tents, local vendors explain they were presents.
Ecological Impacts
Ecological concerns have been raised on several fronts regarding Alto Maipo’s construction, including potable water degradation. Chile’s capital Santiago holds 40% its 17 million people and relies upon the Maipo as its main source of drinking water. The run-of-river system jeopardizes this potable water source which supports the majority of people in Greater Santiago (Belmar, et al. 2010). The President of the Environmental Department of Colegio Médico de Chile, Andrei Tchernitchin M.D., presented a report this year which analyzed the current water quality of Volcán. The analysis indicated that there are now significant levels of arsenic, lead, manganese, and other toxic compounds. These levels are beyond what the World Health Organization deems acceptable (Reiquelme 2016). The report emphasizes that these levels are a product of the Alto Maipo construction, and impacts upon the groundwater are virtually irreversible. Currently there is no Chilean legislation that prioritizes the quality of drinking water over other uses (OECD 2014). Furthermore, Greater Santiago’s water supplier, Aguas Andinas, is controlled by a Spanish company, Sociedad General de Aguas de Barcelona S.A. (Agbar) (Aguas Andinas 2016). Aguas Andinas’ economic relationship with Alto Maipo and its developers has been a growing source of contention.
In addition to contamination concerns, Alto Maipo’s opposition emphasizes oversights within the approved EIA.[5] The EIA did not consider, for example, that “the 70 kilometer tunnel will also cross under the Natural Monument El Morado and the Lagunillas Sanctuary, part of the National System of Protected Areas of the State (SNASPE), putting at risk the San Francisco glacier and lagoon, and the high plains and wetlands, the base of the local shepherd and peasant economy” (Belmar, et al. 2010, 44). Furthermore, the Andean Condor and Puma, both endangered species, have have been exponentially threatened by the projects’ ongoing alterations to the valley’s ecological regimes. The No Alto Maipo movement has also presented concerns that the development will cause desertification throughout 100,000 hectares of the Valley (Escribano, 2015). Beyond the EIA created by developers, “political authorities of the Bachelet Adminisration, particularly the Minister of the Internal Affairs, Edmundo Perez Yoma, and the Minister of Energy, Marcelo Tokman, supported the Alto Maipo project before its environmental assessment was finished; evidencing the lack of independence of the Environmental Evaluation System,” once again brining into question political allegiances and establishing the weakness of Chilean environmental legislation (Belmar, et al. 2010, 55).
Cultural Conservation Dynamics and Santiago Proximity
Prior raises an important point that many Chileans portray notions of “not in my house” or “not in my backyard” (translated by author). While these phrases may first conjure the idea of passionate defense, Prior emphasizes that while fervent opposition may develop for those directly affected by a hydro project, for many physically removed from the impact zone, the fight does not carry through. Bittencourt reiterates this idea explaining that generally Chileans “don’t really realize what is going on until they come to your place, there are so many people that don’t really care or fight against other [projects] but when they come to yours and try to do something…then you really realize what’s going on.” Furthermore, Marisol Conuequir emphasizes the lack of Mapuche presence in Cajon del Maipo. She explains that “they are Chileans, they are only able to defend an environmental theme, but the Mapuches defend the environment, the culture, and the culture is stronger” (translated by author). While citizen passivity regarding environmental dilemmas is an issue for most hydro resistance movements, the No Alto Maipo campaign faces additional social complexities.
While San José de Maipo is a completely separate entity from Santiago, its close proximity to the capital is one that seems to both help and hinder the No Alto Maipo movement. Hydro resistances in regions further removed from Santiago often align with the notion that “environmental problems in the periphery…are associated or intertwined with the populations of the core” (Barbosa 2009, 37). As the Maipo development is as an “environmental problem” near centralized Santiago, underlying social dynamics are important to consider. On one hand, animosity often directed towards Santiago combined with the river’s proximity to the capital does seem to perpetuate less trans-regional support for the No Alto Maipo movement. Despite this dynamic, Maipo’s location does aid resistance tactics in some regards. For the Greater Santiago population, San José is a common retreat for weekends and holidays, reinforcing a dependence on the area’s prosperity. Furthermore, as both Chile’s population and media coverage is centered in Santiago, No Alto Maipo’s sizeable protests are not only fortified by Santiago residents, but are also publicized through the more accessible media outlets. Although Chilean environmental groups outside of the Maipo area have become involved, effective themes such as ‘Patagonia Sin Represas’ used for the HidroAysén movement, that also transitioned to a ‘Futaleufú Sin Represas’ slogan, seem to have lost momentum as far north as the Maipo. Additionally, while the recent Futaleufú and HidroAysén proposals attracted powerful international attention, perhaps due to their location in the idyllic Patagonian landscape, the Maipo has not received as much consideration despite sustained local outcry. These dynamics are in flux however, and trans-regional hydro resistance coordination and support is indeed growing.
Ongoing Resistance Techniques and Tourism
Regarding legal opposition, in 2015 several members of No Alto Maipo, including Pablo Orrego, president of Ecosistemas and recipient of the Goldman Environmental Prize, travelled to Washington, D.C., U.S. to educate the project’s investors. “The delegation met with representatives of the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB), Overseas Private Investment Corporation (OPIC) and the International Financial Corporation (IFC) from the World Bank… point[ing] out the technical irregularities of the project to the financiers, including the lack of hydrogeological and sedimentation studies, which is in violation of International Financial Institutions (IFI) standards” (Escribano 2015, para. 7). At that time No Alto Maipo also displayed intentions of informing the project’s European financers. While the Alto Maipo’s budget and timeline has increased from the original proposal’s estimates, its funding endures. Additional ongoing resistance strategies include large protests, signed petitions, concerts, social media updates, Cajón del Maipo tourism promotion, and EIA contentions based on current contamination analysis.
Also in 2015, the Maipo Adaptation Plan (MAPA) was created in response to growing impact concerns from both the Alto Maipo construction and overarching climate variations. This plan “has formed a collaborative science-society platform to generate insights into the vulnerabilities, challenges and possible mitigation measures that would be necessary to deal with the potential changes in the M.R.” (Melgar 2015, 1). The collaboration consists of approximately 30 different stakeholder groups, both public and private, local, and regional. The subsequent “Robust Decision Making Framework” provides a comprehensive identification of vulnerabilities and mitigation plans for potential long-term scenarios in the Maipo basin (Melgar 2015). However, the realistic application of such measures does not seem possible without a substantial shift to political accountability and dedication to social and ecological prosperity. Emphasizing the need for such a shift, the Superintendent of the Environment, Cristián Franz, appointed by Bachelet, has been repeatedly accused of “systematically refusing to meet with social organizations that inhabit the area of Cajon del Maipo” (translated by author) (Riquelme 2016, para. 13).
Despite the previously mentioned absence of official Mapuche communities in the Maipo basin, strong relationships with river conservation prevail. One connection that has grown significantly in Maipo is the boating culture, displayed through several whitewater companies in the community. Many of the Maipo guides and kayakers travel throughout Chile and the world, inherently generating more trans-regional communication both within and outside of the boating community. While their dependence on preserving the Maipo’s flow is strong, the whitewater tourism industry has yet to generate enough economic influence, relative to the project investors’ financial pull to impact Alto Maipo’s fate. In the Alto Maipo EIA, AES Gener recognizes a decline in tourism due to their project, but ensures that the impact will be minimal (Martin 2008). San José de Maipo has appears to be increasingly tourism dependent however, as it incorporates more hostels, lodges, and restaurants to account for both national and international visitors.
While the fight to halt or significantly compromise upon the Alto Maipo project is far from over, resistance is indeed inhibited by the influences of powerful developers, mining industry investment, sparse opposition funding, trans-regional disinterest as a consequence of proximity to Santiago, overall environmental passivity translated through the historical lack of citizen political influence, limited environmental legislation, and as always, the Water Code. Despite these hindrances, obligations to river conservation such as those displayed by the Maipo boating community, Santiago tourism, and other community members, have sustained No Alto Maipo momentum and media traction. In regards to Chilean elite power, motivations behind their influence has seen shifts especially in inheriting generations. Many members of the Asotrga family, for example, have played large roles in the resistance of Alto Maipo. While Alto Maipo’s opposition has displayed both dedication and strategic adaptation for nearly a decade, whether or not the resistance will be able to increase the social cost of development to outweigh private economic benefit, currently appears debatable. However, as Alto Maipo resistance has a heightened ability to capture Chilean media attention, the movement generates more pervasive citizen awareness of hydro developments and in turn promotes the need for policy reform. Through such an advantage, the Maipo case not only has the potential to transcend unfavorable Santiago associations through trans-regional river preservation connections, but also to challenge the institutionalized preference for hydropower.
[1] CONOF is an organization overseen and funded by the Ministry of Agriculture of Chile through which the government manages their forest resources. For more information, please see (Conaf 2016).
[2] For AES Gener’s depiction of their Alto Maipo project, reference (AES Gener 2015).
[3] Anthony Prior is a leading member of No Alto Maipo.
[4] Maria Isabel Navarrete Ortega is a leader of Mujeres Sin Fronteras.
[5] For AES Gener’s official EIA, please reference (Martin 2008).