The Government of Beans is about the rough edges of environmental regulation, where tenuous state power and blunt governmental instruments encounter ecological destruction and social injustice. At the turn of the twenty-first century, Paraguay was undergoing dramatic economic, political, and environmental change due to a boom in the global demand for soybeans. Although the country's massive new soy monocrop brought wealth, it also brought deforestation, biodiversity loss, rising inequality, and violence. Kregg Hetherington traces well-meaning attempts by bureaucrats and activists to regulate the destructive force of monocrops that resulted in the discovery that the tools of modern government are at best inadequate to deal with the complex harms of modern agriculture and at worst exacerbate them. The book simultaneously tells a local story of people, plants, and government; a regional story of the rise and fall of Latin America's new left; and a story of the Anthropocene writ large, about the long-term, paradoxical consequences of destroying ecosystems in the name of human welfare.
Kregg Hetherington is Associate Professor of Sociology and Anthropology at Concordia University and the author of Guerrilla Auditors: The Politics of Transparency in Neoliberal Paraguay.
This is among my favorite books I’ve read so far this year!
Hetherington sets up the argument of the book by telling the story of “La Masacre de Curuguaty”, a confrontation between policemen and campesinos (peasants) on June 15th, 2012 that resulted in the death of sixteen people and led to the removal of President Lugo from office only a couple days later. Hetherington argues that at the center of that political crisis was soy: “This book tells the story of those soybeans, the way they transformed Paraguayan lives, both human and nonhuman, how they inspired a governmental response, and why that response failed so dramatically” (p. 2).
The book brings up so many things, but I will summarize only some of the main points that were especially striking for me:
– Paraguay has historically been a close ally to what has ironically been called the “Green Revolution”. Founded after WWII under the pretension of ending world hunger and bolstered by the invention of GMO’s (Genetically Modified Organisms, such as soy and corn) and chemicals fertilizers, the Green Revolution basically set the stage for a worldwide agricultural revolution. It is true that countries have indeed been able to produce much more food for a rapidly growing population. But, as the book shows, this economic growth has come with enormous environmental, social and cultural costs.
– In Paraguay, the Green Revolution was launched through a series of fascinating historical and political accidents (Hetherington talks about the “accidental monocrop”). It made possible for Paraguay to become one of the leading soy exporters worldwide. Heterington does not discusses this in this book, but in another article he situates this soy boom within Paraguay’s unequal land distribution: according to the 2008 agrarian census, 1% of Paraguay’s richest landowners hold 77% of the territory. 77%!
– This global capitalist agenda embodied by a privileged few has led to destructions of entire ecosystems, incredible deforestations and – after not much was left standing – genocide of indigenous communities and displacement of campesinos (peasants) from their lands. “La soja mata” (soy kills), a common slogan among rural activists since the early 2000s perfectly expresses this sentiment. In many places, the agribusiness of soy has simply taken over, making it impossible for Campesinos to harvest their preferred crops in their own, non-industrialized ways.
– Once you have a government that lets the Green Revolution take over your lands, you will face enormous difficulties “using government to mitigate the problems that government itself created during a quickly fading era when human well-being seemed to be achievable through the promises of limitless growth” (p. 4). This is really the crux of the matter that Hetherington is teasing out here.
– He describes Lugo’s government as working against what it had originally been designed to do. The book is about what can happen in a country like Paraguay when you have a government that engages environmental degradation and social ruptures caused by soy with the same institutions and methods that required these reforms in the first place. As a result, you have to deal with campesinos protesting that the the government is not involved enough in their wellbeing, as well as with brasiguaios and other large farmers who attack the government for being far too much involved. Although accepting this basic sketch as accurate, Hetherington helpfully nuances this absent-state vs. antistate storyline by arguing that the conflict is much more complex.
– Throughout the book he shows how all of this plays out particularly well in the multi faceted history of SENAVE, Paraguay’s main regulatory agency for plant quality and health. Under the Colorados (Paraguay’s right-wing political party), SENAVE had been designed to serve the interests of the soy lobby, especially to informally authorize the use of GMO’s and application of pesticides. But under Lugo’s “Government of Beans” the purpose of SENAVE was to restrict rather than to sanction these and other methods, now recognized as being harmful for people and the environment. A huge shift was under way. Which obviously did not sit well with big farmers and the soy lobby in Asunción, and thus never actually took place. The president couldn’t even complete his term. Hetherington is not saying that resisting the soy industry alone explains Lugo’s removal from office, but he argues that it was an important factor.
– The book makes it clear that you cannot talk about soy in Paraguay without talking about brasiguaios – Brazilian immigrants who settled near the Paraguayan side of the border and been predominantly in charge of GM plantations. Historically, they have preferred to keep a safe distance from Paraguayan influence and instead decided to maintain strong ties with Brazil and develop relationships with grain multinationals (rather than with Paraguayan institutions). Anyone who has lived in Paraguay for a while will be familiar with the deep antagonisms between Paraguayans and brasiguaios, which have a life of their own well beyond the realities of soybeans.
– Hetherington does a great job at explaining how these antagonisms are rooted in brasiguaios’s extractive practices, separatist attitudes, and even racists postures towards Paraguayans, as well as – on the other hand – a nationalistic Paraguayan response emphasizing “national sovereignty” and political rhetoric around and condemnation of Brazilian imperialism.
– You can also not talk about soy in Paraguay without talking about politics, and you cannot talk about politics without without talking about the legacy of dictator Stroessner and – after he was overthrown in 1989 – the control gained by the Colorado party for the next 61 years. Hetherington reports how many social activists in Paraguay perceive remarkable overlap between these two forms of power, particularly in the way environmental and social injustice caused by the agribusiness in the name of “development” is commonly defended by Colorados.
– A final word on the front cover of the book: What do we see? Well, it turns out that this picture captures perfectly the entire conflict. The backstory: one of the laws that the Government of Beans promulgated was to install barreras vivas (living barriers) alongside soybeans fields. These were essentially walls of elephant grass that stood between fields and campesinos to protect them from harmful contact with pesticides. This picture is taken one year later when the new Colorado president Horacio Cartes deploys the police to protect soy from campesino protesters. The tables have turned: “In what became a caricature of authoritarian agribiopolitics, blue-helmeted riot police stood around the edges of soy fields where there should have been a thick wall of elephant grass. One barrera viva had been replaced by another. Only this time, rather than protecting neighbors from pesticides, the barrera faced outward, protecting pesticides from neighbors” (p. 202).
Kregg Hetherington provides a great overview of the history of agriculture in Paraguay. He is also really insightful in describing the sorts of political conditions and scientific “advances” that led up to the soy boom in Paraguay. Bus his main contribution as a political anthropologist is in describing so acutely the highly complex role of government in the story of soy in Paraguay.
A book that is, well, full of beans - posthuman theory, history of science, fragments of ethnographical account - difficult to characterize or unpack, but amazingly easy to swallow, like how soy has seeped into our industrial life, thriving and killing on the commodity frontier through the ruins of Cold War authoritarian developmentalism and ruinous contemporary neoliberalism.
Seems like a big theme is the use of statistics and official records (as if they represented a more true truth) by the soy state in order to renounce claims of pesticide poisoning, illegal land grabs, and other misbehaviors by sojeros when in reality the absence of statistical proof has more to do with the capacity of regulatory bodies, particularly SENAVE, to collect data not the realities of the impacts of widespread pesticide use.
On a different note, Hetherington emphasizes that the Green Revolution also preceded the genocide of indigenous people. In Paraguay the Ache Guarani lived on some of the most coveted cotton territory in the country, their forrest were chopped down and they were systemically displaced and killed. However, the international community was reluctant to call this killing genocide as the driver of the genocide was agricultural, rather than hateful or what have you. Moreso, the slow violence of land grabbing and displacement does not fit in the neat intellectual room that genocide is meant to fit in. Genocide requires an event that breaks past from present. Much like how the campesinos were being driven out, systematically killed, and having their self-determination annihilated, the slow crawl of the agricultural frontier had deeper and older roots than I thought. Interesting how the campesinos were once in the position of the sojeros.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.