Justice Comes to the Amazon

By ANDREA DORFMAN

The little-known town in the remote western Amazon has just four dingy guesthouses and 450 phone lines and lies a rugged five-hour drive from the nearest major airport. And yet this week, normally tranquil Xapuri (pop. 6,000) is being invaded by 3,000 visitors from the surrounding territory and around the globe. They have come to witness a long-awaited event: the trial of two men accused of murdering Chico Mendes. In fact, everyone who cares about environmental issues is watching to see whether justice will prevail in the case of the humble rubber tapper whose defense of the Amazon rain forest made him a world-renowned martyr.

But is the proceeding, as many of the local people claim, just a show for the international media? No, argues Brazilian Environment Secretary Jose Lutzenberger, who sees the trial as a clear demonstration that his country will protect the rain forest, along with the rubber tappers (seringueiros) and Indians who depend upon the trees for their livelihood. "Chico Mendes did not die in vain," he says. "We must and will put a stop to ecological crimes."

For decades, ever widening patches of the Amazon have been burned or cut down by developers building towns, ranchers raising cattle, companies going after timber and settlers trying to grow crops. Mendes was among those forest dwellers who realized that their way of life was slowly being snuffed out. So in 1975, he organized a rural workers' union. To stop the deforestation, union members and their families formed human blockades around areas scheduled to be cleared. These Gandhiesque acts, called empates, helped save thousands of acres but also made Mendes unpopular with landowners and local officials.

Two men accused of killing him -- Darly Alves da Silva, 56, a wealthy Xapuri rancher, and his son Darci, 24 -- were the targets of one of Mendes' last empates, in March 1988. After the confrontation, Mendes, who had allegedly been threatened many times by the elder Da Silva, feared for his life and alerted the police. But on Dec. 22, 1988, Mendes was struck down by a single shotgun blast as he stepped out the back door of his home. His police bodyguards were inside playing dominoes. Mendes was 44.

Though his accomplishments were virtually unknown outside the conservation community, the shot that killed him echoed around the world. His widow Ilzamar, now 25, was soon traveling to the U.S. and other countries to accept posthumous awards showered on Mendes by environmental groups. She sold the rights to his story for more than $1 million. Producer David Puttnam will make a movie; numerous books, TV documentaries and magazine articles are in the works.

Meanwhile, justice has moved relatively slowly in Xapuri. Though the Da Silvas were arrested within weeks of the murder, the case was delayed as the defense made a variety of motions and investigators questioned more than 50 people, accumulating some 2,200 pages of statements. Almost all those involved in the case -- including the judge, Mendes family members, seringueiro leaders, the lawyers and the Da Silvas -- have received death threats.

Of the dozen people expected to testify during the trial, the key prosecution witness is 16-year-old Genesio Barbosa da Silva (no relation to the defendants), a former Da Silva ranch hand. He told police that he overheard the younger Da Silva plan and then boast of Mendes' murder. Several other people have said they heard both Da Silvas threaten Mendes and the seringueiros. And the son confessed to the shooting, although he later retracted the statement.

Those familiar with the Mendes case, including the lawyers, believe the verdict is in. "I would be very surprised -- shocked, is more like it -- if the jury does not find them guilty," says Marcio Thomaz Bastos, the chief prosecutor. Defense lawyer Joao Lucena Leal considers acquittal so unlikely that he is preparing an appeal. "It is going to be impossible to have a fair trial," Leal says. "With the eyes of the world on Xapuri, what you are going to witness is two men who had nothing to do with the killing being sacrificed." If convicted, the Da Silvas could receive sentences of 12 to 30 years.

That will not satisfy the seringueiros, who think Mendes' death was the product of a conspiracy that included some of the region's more powerful landowners and politicians. "Putting the Da Silvas in jail is not the solution," says Rosa Maria Roldan of the National Council of Rubber Tappers. "The only real way justice will be served is if the government gets to the roots of who was behind Chico's death." Roldan and others fear that once the trial is over and the spotlight gone, the violence against rubber tappers will resume.

Whatever happens, Mendes' message did not go unheard. One of his aims was to create reserves in which rubber tappers and Indians could live off the land without destroying the forest. Earlier this year, Brazil created its first such refuge, named after Mendes, in the Jurua River valley near Xapuri. Since then, the government has established three more. In those areas at least, the people of the Amazon have a better chance to survive, thanks to Chico Mendes.

With reporting by John Maier Jr./Rio de Janeiro