Wayne Madsen
Lead Scientist
Computer Sciences Corporation
Integrated Systems Division
Falls Church, Virginia
Abstract
This paper investigates the problems associated with remote sensing from space-based platforms as they relate to the protection of the rights of indigenous peoples around the world. Many nations and international organizations recognize a right of individual privacy. This paper advances the notion of a right to collective privacy, what can best be described as a "communal right of privacy," especially as it relates to the rights of indigenous people to be free of wanton exploitation from data on their lands and waters that are collected from orbiting surveillance and sensing platforms. Indigenous peoples argue that since they are the direct descendants of the original peoples who settled their lands before conquest by outsiders, they have an "inalienable" right to their territories and the natural resources contained therein (Nagengast, Stavenhagen, and Kearney, 1992, 31). Clearly, the sparse number of international treaties and other regimes that seek to protect the rights of indigenous people to their lands and resources must be strengthened to address privacy protections against wanton snooping from overhead surveillance satellites.
1. Introduction
In his famous dissenting opinion in Olmstead v. U.S., 277 U.S. 438 (1928), Justice Louis Brandeis called the right to be let alone "the most comprehensive of rights and the right most cherished by civilized men." Justice Brandeis's ruling could just as easily apply to the right of indigenous peoples to be let alone from intrusive central government "development" and surveillance programs. The increasing use of satellites to survey lands and oceans for natural resources comes at the expense of many indigenous peoples to freely conduct various activities on their ancestral lands. Many indigenous tribes maintain a certain kinship with the territory upon which they live. This kinship runs deep and in some cases has an important religious significance for the people concerned.
2. Geographic Information Systems (GISs) and Indigenous Lands
Satellite-based geographic information systems (GIS), if not properly regulated, could infringe on indigenous rights to privacy. As early as 1983 the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) established a GIS for ten tribes across the United States. The system, called the Indian Integrated Resource Information Program (IIRIP), was designed to allow the ten tribes to promote the use of GIS in the management of their lands. However, the system was used more heavily by the IIRIP's National Center and the BIA than by the Indian tribes concerned (Marchand and Winchell, 1994, 49-51). This inevitably leads to the question of who benefits more from such "wampum" technology, the native Americans or the Federal government acting as forward scouts for exploitative industry? The Colville Confederated Tribe in Washington State was faced with the dilemma of the BIA refusing to relinquish control of some GIS-derived information to the tribal confederacy. The confederacy was concerned that GIS maps detailing archeological and cultural sites might fall into the wrong hands, thus disrupting the sites. It was decided that the confederacy's Physical Resource Department would be the central authority for administering the GIS data resources (Marchand and Winchell, 1994, 50).
Indian leaders contend that those who operate GISs must be sensitive to the traditions surrounding their lands. Many Indian tribes feel that certain data must remain private and not be released to the general public. Data security and privacy controls therefore become problematic. Tribal officials such as the Colville Confederacy leadership feel that certain data cannot be treated as regular data. Information on hunting and gathering areas has a spiritual significance for the Indians that is perhaps unappreciated by statisticians in cold, gray and distant computer rooms (Marchand and Winchell, 1994, 51).
GIS data used indiscriminately can be used to deny Indian nations their rights under existing international treaties. For example, the United States government and the Nez Perce tribe signed a treaty in June 11, 1855 that preserved the right of the Nez Perce to hunt, gather roots and berries, and raise livestock on "open and unclaimed lands" outside the reservation. Subsequent treaties squeezed the tribe into smaller parcels of land so that presently the Idaho reservation territory resembles a patchwork not unlike the recently disestablished South African "Bantustans." GIS data can be used by outside exploiters to deny tribes like the Nez Perce access to their rightful lands and squeeze them onto unproductive tracts. The Nez Perce also stress security and privacy for data contained within their GIS systems in hopes of preventing any wrongful exploitation (Meyers, 1993, 35-37). A recent Canadian study concluded that Canadian Indian tribes or "band councils" have a right and a duty to adopt their own data protection codes and fair information practices (Peladeau, 1994, 15). Such legislation could be tailored to include as personal information that data which collectively applies to the tribe or band at large. Non-traditional data concerning cultural affairs and natural resources might be included in an expanded definition of what constitutes collective privacy information. Any Canadian data protection and fair information code of practice for Indian bands might also serve as a useful model for indigenous peoples in the United States and other parts of the world.
Indigenous peoples have historically reviled attempts by central governments to collect information on them. Many native groups have felt "abused" by intrusive population censuses and other types of surveys affecting their land and activities. Many enumerators and surveyors considered indigenous respondents as nothing more than "sample units" and not as people (Casley and Lury, 1987, 123). Subjecting indigenous peoples to remote space-based imagery and surveillance without proper guarantees of their rights to privacy and self-determination can only exacerbate existing strained feelings.
3. High-Technology Repression
In those countries where repressive governments have used census information to forcibly assimilate and transfer indigenous populations, GIS technology could be used to assist in such programs. The bitter experience of several ethnic minorities in Russia serves as dramatic cases in point. The neo-nationalist Russian government has spoken of disestablishing ethnic republics originally set up during the time of Lenin. Russia's sophisticated satellite surveillance system could be used to identify resource-rich lands in these republics. This may lead to the forced removal of ethnic groups in a manner reminiscent of Stalin's forced migrations of the 1920s and 1930s. The Sakha Republic's nomadic reindeer herding population could be the first victims of such a policy. The Sakha control territory with some of the largest diamond deposits in the world. Their republic is also rich in silver and timber. The Japanese conglomerates that have used GIS data to deforest Sarawak have also expressed an interest in exploiting the natural resources of Sakha.
The United States has used its satellite imagery capabilities to combat the illicit international narcotics trade. While such efforts seem laudable on the surface, a detailed examination often points to ulterior motives behind such surveillance. Data extracted on the location of narcotics production areas often coincides with the location of repressed national minority groups and indigenous tribes. For example, in 1989 American imagery satellites began to discover an increase in opium production in Burma's Golden Triangle area. U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and Burmese military officials began to share intelligence based on the satellite imagery. One of the benefactors of this intelligence was Brig. Gen. Tin Hla, the commander of Burma's 22nd Light Infantry Division, a unit not involved with counter-narcotics operations but, in fact, responsible for stamping out ethnic rebellions among the Shan, Kachins and Karens in northern and eastern Burma (Lintner, 1993,23-24). In 1991, the DEA and Pakistan cooperated in an anti-narcotics operation using satellite imagery and GIS technology. Some computer surveillance equipment was provided to Pakistan by the Agency for International Development (AID), an agency better known for assisting underdeveloped peoples to attain self-sufficiency in agriculture and light industry. Although 42.3 metric tons of drugs were seized by the DEA-Pakistani team, the fact that the operation was conducted against the Baluchis, a repressed indigenous minority in southwest Pakistan, raised concerns over the future use of satellite imagery to target specific groups of indigenous peoples. The U.S. and Pakistan subsequently established a second "drug monitoring" operation in northern Pakistan, this time directed against another minority group, the Pashtoon people inhabiting the Pakistani-Afghan border (Forcht, 1994, 184-185).
The United States, as one of the two most advanced remote sensing nations in the world, bears a special responsibility to prevent remote sensing data from being used for purposes of exploitation and violations of human rights. The other major remote sensing nation is France. It, too, has demonstrated a willingness to permit the abuse of remote sensing data as it affects indigenous peoples. In 1994, France announced that it had captured the international terrorist "Carlos the Jackal" in Khartoum, Sudan. This feat ironically involved the trading of French imagery intelligence to the Sudanese, a trade which ultimately resulted in more Sudanese "state terrorism" against the black African minority in the south of the country. The southern Sudanese believed that the north wanted to drain their swamps by building the Jonglei Canal which would increase the flow of water through the White Nile. One southern Sudanese, Dr. John Garang, wrote his doctoral thesis on the negative environmental impact of the Jonglei Canal. In 1985 the southern Sudanese revolted against the north and demanded independence (Moszynski, July 1, 1994, 25).
The Sudanese wanted an end to the revolt. They agreed to hand over Carlos to the French in return for high-grade French SPOT imagery photographs of the positions of southern Sudan guerilla forces. Using the satellite imagery provided by the French and analyzed by Iraqi imagery analysts, the Sudanese launched a massive ground and air offensive against the southerners including a faction led by Dr. John Garang, native environmentalist turned leader of the Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA). British MP Tony Worthington was one of a few Western politicians who expressed his outrage, saying "Obviously we can understand that the French were keen to capture Carlos, but does it have to be at the expense of the Sudanese people who have been brutally murdered by the appalling regime in Khartoum whom the French have assisted by providing military intelligence to help the slaughter?" (Moszynski, Oct. 1994, 32).
4. GIS data, deforestation and depopulation
Safeguards against exploitation of natural resources on indigenous lands must be addressed when utilizing GIS resources. Although inter-ethnic animosity has been a significant factor in resorting to forced assimilation, migrations and genocide, the desire to depopulate indigenous lands to further economic expansion has been as great a factor. A survey of 32 of the 47 members of the Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organization (UNPO), an alternative United Nations (UN) for indigenous peoples lacking representation at the UN, indicates that many of these peoples sit atop highly-coveted natural resources. Where these resources have become an important economic factor in the central government's development plans, the repression suffered by the indigenous peoples has increased commensurately. Table 1 provides a summary of UNPO members, the governing power, natural resources and type of repression (military, economic, cultural, political).
The use of GIS technology to identify indigenous lands ripe for exploitation has been particularly acute in southeast Asia's deforestation programs. Japanese industrial conglomerates with the latest satellite data at their disposal have, along with their Malaysian, Philippine and Indonesian counterparts, helped to displace thousands of indigenous peoples in Sarawak, Sabah, Luzon and Sumatra. The Sarawak Ibans, Achehnese of Sumatra, Kadazans of Sabah and Igorote of Luzon have been driven virtually underground in their battles against the central governments and the huge logging companies. Many indigenous activists have been jailed and killed. Presently some 30 percent of Sarawak's rain forests have been logged. Spatial-derived maps have pinpointed the location of another 14.3 million acres - 60 percent of Sarawak's rain forests and these have been conceded to logging firms. Like their North American Indian counterparts, the Ibans believe the rain forests are spiritually "alive." The Ibans say, "From the forest, we get our life." (Cultural Survival, 1993, 26-27). Of course the same situation exists in the Amazon rain forests where Indian tribes such as the Yanomami have faced deforestation at the hands of exploitative central and state governments, hostile timber companies and an indifferent band of international financiers including the World Bank. Although GIS-derived data has been informative in identifying the damage already done to the Amazon forests, the same data has been used to further exploit Amazon resources. All this has come at the expense of the indigenous rain forest dwellers some of whom have been forced to migrate to squalid cities and towns. Satellite data was used by five Latin American governments to decide on going ahead with the Parana-Paraguay River Project. The indigenous Guarani were the first victims of the World Bank-funded project. Native lands that were not flooded were soon occupied by exploitative real estate developers. The Guarani were herded into Bantustan-like reservations.
GIS data may have been instrumental in locating petroleum reserves in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas in the 1970s. The Mexican state oil company, PEMEX, quickly forced native Mayans off their land. Oil production also brought other development projects in Chiapas. Two dams were built along the Grijalva River in Chiapas, flooding Mayan land. Road construction to accommodate the oil industry resulted in the influx of non-Mayan farmers. This resulted in yet other native land being commandeered for deforestation and cattle ranching (Cancian and Brown, 1994, 23). In January 1994, the Mayan Indians, squeezed into small parcels of unproductive land, revolted against the Mexican government. 1994 heralded Mexico's entry into the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). The Mayans' Zapatista National Liberation Front saw NAFTA differently. "NAFTA is the death certificate for the indigenous peoples of Mexico," thundered one Zapatista commander (Nations, 1994, 33). The Mayans resented the role the World Bank played in the loss of their lands in the 1970s and 1980s. Free access for American mega-businesses, armed with tools like GIS reconnaissance, was a potential fatal blow for the Mayans. The Mayan revolt was bloody and the Mexican government was forced into negotiations with the Zapatistas.
Petroleum was also a contributing reason for the Iraqi genocide of the Kurds. In 1970, the Iraqi Baath Socialist government announced that it would conduct a census of the Kurds in order to determine the territory of a Kurdish Autonomous Region. Wherever Kurds constituted a majority, that area would be included in the autonomous region. Kirkuk Province was a majority Kurdish area but it contained one of the richest oil fields in Iraq. From 1971 to 1973, Iraq expelled tens of thousands of Kurds from Kirkuk and other regions (Middle East Watch, 1990, 70-71). Expulsions could be mapped directly to areas containing petroleum reserves. The case of the Kurds represents an important example of depopulation of an area in order to gain access to an indigenous peoples' natural resources.
There are other examples of indigenous peoples being adversely affected by ill-thought development schemes. These include:
5. GIS data as a tool for indigenous peoples
In some cases GIS data, if properly used, can bolster indigenous claims to lands. For example, in 1989 the Honduran government decided to sign an agreement with the native Tawahka on indigenous land tenure. However, each native community was obligated to map its own borders and the Tawahka were told they would be first. Meanwhile, non-Indian ladinos were pressing their own claims to Tawahka territory. Time was of the essence. If the Tawahka had spatial data at their disposal, this mapping project could have been accomplished quickly and accurately. Nevertheless, the Tawahka managed to construct a crude map without any formal training and the Honduran government guaranteed their rights over more than a 29 square mile territory on the Patuca River (Cultural Survival, 1993, 57). Properly controlled, GIS can aid indigenous peoples in defining their territories and protect their collective "right to be let alone." However, recent uses of GIS data have shown the opposite to be taking place.
6. Communal right of privacy
Large multinational firms using local and central government proxies have used GIS data to define lands to be targeted for exploitation. Not only has this had a negative ecological impact but the native peoples have suffered by being forcibly evicted from their lands either into unfamiliar urban settings or unproductive lands. Other groups have faced cultural assimilation from central governments eager to wipe out any notion that some groups have of being bonded to their land. In yet other cases, native groups have been the victims of extermination through genocide. International legal regimes should take into account the right of indigenous peoples to be let alone, i.e., a right to collective privacy. Africans, for example, are said to be communally-oriented and not as individualistic as Westerners. The traditions of the Amharas of Ethiopia include strictures against depriving peasants of their land. Kings and chiefs are also required to share their wealth with their subjects (Howard, 1990, 163). Establishing a modern legal baseline for protecting indigenous lands from wrongful exploitation and sharing the wealth when indigenous lands are developed will enable indigenous groups to advance their legal rights to their lands and resources to the highest levels of international bodies, including the World Court and World Bank.
The United Nations has taken a first step in recognizing the privacy rights of indigenous peoples, i.e., their "right to be let alone." The UN Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People, adopted in 1993 at the eleventh session of the Economic and Social Council's Commission on Human Rights recognizes "the urgent need to respect and promote the inherent rights and characteristics of indigenous peoples, especially their rights to their lands, territories and resources." Many indigenous peoples are also using the terms of the Biodiversity Convention to protect their lands and resources. Without enforceable legal regimes such declarations are merely pieces of paper. Other international agreements like the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) have had little or no effect on indigenous rights. The ICCPR does not even define what constitutes a minority; it merely states that signatories should grant cultural, religious, and linguistic rights to members of ethnic, religious, and linguistic minority groups. What is more important, the ICCPR does not levy any requirement on signatories to enact specific legislation protecting indigenous minorities.
The United Nations Declaration of Principles Regarding the Remote Sensing of Earth from Space came close to addressing the rights of underdeveloped nations vis a vis space-based remote sensing platforms. However, the principles were the product of much debate reflecting the ever-growing North-South economic divide. Some human rights advocates have even put forth the notion that collective privacy rights for peoples actually weaken the rights of individuals. They see attempts to put forward communal privacy rights as a way of reversing gains already made in the area of individual human rights (Nagengast, Stavenhagen, and Kearney, 1992, 31-32).
7. Summary
Considering the economic and political stakes involved, international recognition of a peoples' collective right of privacy still has a long way to go. Indigenous peoples are still considered insignificant cultural curiosities by many nations and organizations, the subject of television nature productions and not much else. There have been flagrant abuses of the overall rights of indigenous peoples to self-determination. This has resulted in repeated violations by some nations of treaties and conventions they have signed. The only international convention which comes close to recognizing that nations have a duty to pass legislation protecting indigenous rights is Convention 107 of the International Labor Organization (ILO). The convention states that member states should take special measures when the general domestic legislation is insufficient. But more importantly, the convention calls for measures to be taken to ensure that indigenous peoples know their rights (Nagengast, Stavenhagen, and Kearney, 1992, 32). There is a clear need for such an education program to be undertaken by international organizations and non-government organizations. If indigenous peoples are taught that they can use GISs to their own benefit rather than being the victims of exploitative use of such technology, their communal privacy rights can be ensured.
8. References
Cancian, Frank, and Brown, Peter, "Who is Rebelling in Chiapas?" Cultural Survival Quarterly, Spring 1994, 23.
Casley, G.J., and Lury, D.A., Data Collection in Developing Countries, Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1987, 123.
Cultural Survival, State of the Peoples: A Global Human Rights Report on Societies in Danger. Boston: Beacon Press, 1993, 26-27, 57.
Forcht, Karen, Computer Security Management. Danvers, MA: Boyd and Fraser, 1994, 184-185.
Howard, Rhoda E., "Group vs. Individual Identity in the African Debate," Human Rights in Africa: Cross-Cultural Perspectives (Abdullahi Ahmed An-Naim and Francis M. Deng, eds.), Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institute, 1990, 162-163.
Inside Indonesia, "Logging and the sinking island," Inside Indonesia, December 1992, 23-25.
Lintner, Bertil, "Hooked on the Junta," Far Eastern Economic Review, November 18, 1993, 23-24.
Marchand, Michael E., and Winchell, Richard "Tribal Implementation of GIS," Cultural Survival Quarterly, Winter 1994, 49-51.
Meyers, Renee, "Technology Serves Traditional Values," Cultural Survival Quarterly, Spring 1993, 35-37.
Middle East Watch, Human Rights in Iraq, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990, 70-71.
Moszynski, Peter, "Sudan Moves Towards Lingering Death," New Statesman and Society, July 1, 1994, 25.
Moszynski, Peter, "Sudan: How France Captured Carlos," New African, October 1994, 32.
Nagengast, Carole; Stavenhagen, Rodolfo; and Kearney, Michael, Human Rights and Indigeneous Workers: The Mixtecs in Mexico and the United States, San Diego: Cent for U.S.- Mexican Studies, University of California at San Diego, 1992, 30-33.
Nations, James D., "The Ecology of the Zapatista Revolt," Cultural Survival Quarterly, Spring 1994, 33.
Peladeau, Pierrot, "Native Government: Little Big Brother," The International Privacy Bulletin, Vol. 2, No. 2, April-June 1994, 15.
Ruben, Barbara, "Protecting Mother Earth's Bottom Line," Environmental Action, Fall 1993, 11-13.
The United Nations Working Group on Indigenous Populations included
representation from the following indigenous peoples:
Aboriginal Nations (Australia)
Aetas Association of Western Luzon (Philippines)
Ainu Association of Hokkaido (Japan)
Alliance of Taiwan Aborigines (Taiwan)
Aymara Movement (Bolivia)
Bougainville Republic (Papua New Guinea)
Chakma People (Bangladesh)
Cheyenne Nation (United States)
Chirapaq People (Peru)
Chukchi People (Russia)
Cordillera Peoples Alliance (Philippines)
Dakota Nation (United States)
Dalit Nations (India)
Dene Nation (Canada)
Dolgany People (Russia)
Dwane Moeders (Suriname)
Ermineskin Nation (Canada)
Eveny People (Russia)
Evenky People (Russia)
Federation of Saskatchewan Indian Nations (Canada)
Free Papua Movement (Papua New Guinea)
Grand Council of the Crees (Canada)
Guarani People (Argentina)
Gull Bay Indian Band (Canada)
Hadzabe People (Tanzania)
Haudenosaunee-Mohawk Nation (United States)
Hawaii Nation (United States)
Hmong People (Laos)
Homeland Mission for South Moluccas (Indonesia)
Hopi Indian Tribe (United States)
Iban (Sarawak, Malaysia)
Iina Torres Strait Islanders Corporation (Australia)
Innu Kanantwapatset (Canada)
International Inca Alliance (Peru)
Inuit Tapirisat (Canada)
Jackhead Band of Manitoba (Canada)
Kaayellii Dine (United States)
Kachin Independence Organization (Myanmar)
Kakchiquel People (Guatemala)
Kechua People (Ecuador)
Kola Sami (Russia)
Koryak People (Russia)
Kuna Movement (Panama)
Kwanyama Tribe (Kenya)
Lakota Sioux Nation (United States)
Lil'wat Nation (Canada)
Lokonon (Suriname)
Lumad Mindanaw (Philippines)
Maori Aotearoa (New Zealand)
Mapuches (Argentina)
Mapuche People (Chile)
Mayan Nation Council (Guatemala)
Metis National Council (Canada)
Mikmaq Nation (Canada)
Miskitu People (Nicaragua)
Mohawk Nation (Canada)
Montana Cree Nation (United States)
Mosul Vilayet Council (Iraq)
Naga People's Movement (India)
Navajo Nation (United States)
Nentsy People (Russia)
Nishnawbe-Aski Nation (Canada)
Ogoni (Nigeria)
Ojibway Nation (United States)
Onondaga Nation (United States)
Pacha-Anu (Aymaras) (Chile)
Peru Kechua (Peru)
Pichincha Riccarimui Organization (Ecuador)
Potiguara Peoples (Brazil)
Quintin Lame Movement (Colombia)
Roraima People (Brazil)
Samson Cree Nation (Canada)
Seneca Nation (United States)
Shoal Lake Ojibway First Nation (Canada)
Shuar Federation (Ecuador)
Stl'atl'imx Nation (Canada)
Sukawala Organization (Nicaragua)
Tanganikeld People (Tanzania)
Tlahtokan Tzkalotl (Mexico)
Toledo Maya Council (Belize)
Tsistsistas Nation (United States)
Tuaregs (Mali)
Tupak Katari Movement (Bolivia)
Tuscarora Nation (United States)
Twa Du (Rwanda)
Tynasarapa (Suriname)
United Indian Councils of the Mississauga and Chippewa (United States)
Vedda Community (Sri Lanka)
Wayamu (Suriname)
Western Shoshone Nation (United States)
West Papua Peoples Front (Indonesia)
Xavante People (Brazil)
Yakut-Sakha (Russia)
Yankuikanahuak (Mexico)
Yanama Indigenous Organization (Colombia)
Yanomami People (Brazil)
Yarawato (Suriname)
Yupik Alaska (United States)
Yupit Nation (United States)
Zapotec Nation (Mexico)