By Alexandra Early
 President Obama’s visit to El Salvador this week has become a focal point  for 
 protest organizing by Central American social movement organizations  and 
 their North American allies, who are equally outraged about U.S. trade 
 policy and military meddling in the region.Local environmental and community 
 organizations have joined together with allies like U.S. – El Salvador Sister Cities 
 and CISPES to help mobilize students and workers for rallies in the U.S. and 
 El Salvador on Tuesday, March 22, when Obama arrives for a meeting with 
 Salvadoran President Mauricio Funes, whose election two years ago ended 
 decades of right-wing rule.
 Despite the initial jubilation at both Obama’s and Funes’s electoral
 victories, both the Salvadoran left and members of the international
 solidarity community are deeply disappointed and frustrated with
 Obama’s stance toward Central America. The purpose of Obama´s visit is
 supposedly to support the eradication of poverty, violence and
 government corruption. Yet, the president’s own administration is
 perpetuating  these problems (and their natural result, immigration) by
 following in the footprints of Bill Clinton, both George Bushes, and
 even Ronald Reagan, who spent billions of dollars wreaking human rights
 havoc in El Salvador and its neighbors.
 Current U.S. policy on Central America reflects more continuity than
 change, particularly with regard to the Central American Free Trade
 Agreement (CAFTA) and the 2009 military coup in Honduras that forced
 then-president Manual (“Mel”) Zelaya out of office and into exile.
 It has been six years since the passage of CAFTA. As predicted by its
 critics, free trade has not reduced economic inequality or created many
 new jobs. Exports from El Salvador and foreign investment in the
 country have both decreased; meanwhile, the price of goods has
 dramatically increased while the number of small businesses able to
 sell products to the U.S. has not. 
 Thanks to CAFTA, which supersedes national law, North American mining
 companies are now suing El Salvador for $100 million because the
 government has thwarted an environmentally dangerous resource
 extraction scheme approved by previous governments.
   Next door in Honduras, President Obama initially opposed the army’s
 overthrow of Zelaya as a threat to democracy throughout the region. But
 now his administration has become the leading ally and cheerleader for
 Zelaya’s conservative successor, de-facto President Porfirio Lobo.
 Hillary Clinton’s State Department is campaigning for re-admission of
 Honduras to the Organization of American States, which strongly
 condemned the ouster of Zelaya.
 Since the military coup 21 months ago, and Lobo’s tainted election in
 November, 2009, the U.S. has built two new military bases in Honduras
 and increased its training of local police. Meanwhile, nearly all
 sectors of Honduran society—union organizers, farmers and teachers,
 women and young people, gays,  journalists, political activists,—have
 faced violent repression under Lobo’s corrupt regime. With its
 worsening record of murders, disappearances and rabid resistance to
 land reform, Honduras is beginning to look more and more like El
 Salvador before it slipped into full-scale civil warfare three decades
 ago, with the U.S. backing the wrong side then and now.
 In January, I witnessed first-hand what life is like under the
 “golpistas” of Honduras as part of a fact-finding delegation led by the
 Honduras Accompaniment Project. We spent a week in the Honduran capitol
 and countryside interviewing multiple victims of recent political
 threats, beatings, jailings, and kidnappings. Human rights groups
 estimate that more than 4,000 serious human rights violations and
 sixty-four political assassinations have occurred in Honduras since the
 coup. Many organizers have been forced to leave the country as the
 threats against themselves and their families increase.
 Young people are now a frequent target of death threats and actual
 violence, often from police or resurgent of death squads seemingly bent
 on “social cleansing.” Like El Salvador, Honduras has very strong
 “anti-gang” legislation that enables cops to arrest youth who gather in
 groups or on the basis of their appearance. Since the coup, it’s not
 just suspicious tattoos that draw police attention. Police drag-nets
 now target anyone wearing t-shirts or hats with anti-government
 messages, not to mention the threatening visages of Che or Chavez. As
 youth organizer Victor Alejandro explained, “many Honduran youth woke
 up politically when the coup began, when they were beaten up or
 arrested by the police at a march or just for walking down the street.
 And now they are one of the driving forces behind the resistance, and
 as a result they are one of the main targets of state repression.” 
 As always in Central America, organized campesinos are a target of
 repression. During our stay, we visited Zacate Grande, a sparsely
 populated peninsula in the Gulf of Fonseca where small tenant farmers
 and fisherman are fighting eviction by rich businessmen who want to
 build luxury hotels and summer homes on their land. One source of hope
 and optimism for Hondurans like these was Decree 18-2008, the land
 reform measure enacted under President Zelaya.  It created a mechanism
 for the expropriation of unused private lands for subsistence farming
 and a way for the poor to gain title to land they had worked for years.
 Not surprisingly, in January, the Supreme Court of Honduras ruled that
 Zelaya’s land reform decree was unconstitutional.
   This, combined with the rampant corruption of local authorities since
 the coup, means that campesinos in places like Zacate Grande and the
 embattled Bajo Aguan region in Northern Honduras are in a constant
 fight for their lives and land. 
 Because they are part of the opposition to Lobo’s regime, public school
 teachers have come under similar attack. We saw an example of their
 repression during our stay in Honduras. On January 25, four teachers
 were arrested after a peaceful protest march in the capital. During
 their detention, our delegation got a call from a teachers’ union
 leader requesting that we check on the safety of his members. When
 three of us neared the jail where they were being held we encountered a
 line of riot police with night sticks blocking the street. After cell
 phone negotiations with the police commander in charge, we were finally
 admitted to the police station and allowed to talk to the detainees in
 a waiting area. Although none of the teachers had been beaten or
 otherwise badly treated, they were all clearly frightened. They were
 released later that same afternoon, but only on the condition that they
 refrain from participating in further protests.
   Two days later, we joined another peaceful and massively attended
 demonstration in Tegucigalpa held on the first anniversary of Lobo’s
 inauguration. The turn-out reflected a resistance movement that draws
  from diverse sectors of society and whose goals go far beyond ending
 the exile of Manual Zelaya. There were young people spray-painting the
 walls with slogans against U.S. military intervention, teachers
 shielding themselves from the sun under multi-colored umbrellas, and
 embattled gay activists waiving rainbow flags. Some people were holding
 banners and signs with the message “Urge Mel!” (“We need Mel!”), but
 they were no more prominent in the crowd than those demanding democracy
 and human rights. 
 This is not reflected in mainstream media coverage in the U.S., which
 makes Honduras seem like just another case of caudillo politics, with
 the population blindly following one populist leader after another. In
 typical fashion, the Washington Post described the January 27  marches
 in the capital and two other cities simply as “protests by supporters
 of ousted former leader Manuel Zelaya.” As one gay activist explained,
 however, “Zelaya is part of the movement, but the movement transcends
 Zelaya. He gave people hope and started a process, but it is our goal
 to continue and finish that process, the process of re-founding
 Honduras.”
  
 That’s why we’re greeting Obama on Tuesday with the message that his
 regional track record so far includes little change that Central
 Americans can believe in. Salvadorans still labor under the burden of
 CAFTA and its costly barrage of big business litigation aimed at
 punishing even the smallest exercises of national sovereignty.
 Meanwhile, Hondurans are experiencing a rapid U.S.-assisted return to
 the past, in the form of a country that is poor, militarized, and
 terrorized–the same set of conditions that so many Central Americans
 have long struggled to escape. 



