Keywords

1 Introduction

In the midst of the current scramble for resources in Africa, land grabbing has become a major driver of social exclusion, and it augmented negative implications for rural livelihoods (Amanor 2012; Hall et al. 2015; Moyo et al. 2012). In this context of this neoliberal restructuring, large-scale land acquisitions are conducted through different processes and models of land acquisition. The various outcomes of the current global resource rush include expulsion of people through direct land expropriation, the transfer of land control, for instance, through contract farming, resettlement of people that results in the unfair reallocation of fertile/resource-rich land, and other mechanisms of adverse incorporation, and social and gendered exclusions (Borras and Franco 2012; Hall et al. 2015; Hickey and Du Toit 2013; Tsikata and Yaro 2014).

Prevailing public discourses systematically use claims of employment creation and livelihood generation to impose and enforce such neoliberal economic policies, involving the promotion of foreign direct investment to explore and regularly extract natural resources. However, the quality of employment and livelihoods is questionable. In the end, local conditions play a critical role regarding the outcomes of such investments, particularly as related to land tenure, labour regimes, livelihoods and local economies (Ali and Stevano 2019; Hall et al. 2017).

In Mozambique, where the land is owned by the state, foreign investments in rural areas are expected to entail ways of integrating the affected smallholders in an inclusive process of socio-economic development. The right to use land in Mozambique (legitimised by a legal document called Direito de Uso e Aproveitamento da Terra—DUAT) is conditioned by a set of factors, including mandatory consultation with (and consent of) local residents (rural households) and possibly resettling them to other areas and/or compensation (monetary and/or non-monetary). Lately, large-scale land-based investments in the country have involved differentiated mechanisms of integration and implementation of development projects. Some forms are becoming very common, including out-grower schemes, corporate social responsibility projects, social development plans and so on, aiming to provide alternative livelihood strategies and income generation, or even an optimistic long-term plan of employment creation.

It is in this context that Portucel Moçambique, a forest plantation company, acquired an area of 350,000 hectares where thousands of rural households reside. The company plans to develop an eucalyptus plantation on two-thirds of the acquired land. In this regard, the company would negotiate with the households for a transfer of a share of their land—the requirement was that each household would keep at least 2.9 hectares of land for its subsistence. Rather than the resettlement of people whose landholdings had been taken in full (i.e. complete land alienation), the company and the government agreed that a Social Development Plan should be implemented. As a result, and before even consulting the affected households, the company received a 50-year DUAT approved by Mozambique’s Council of Ministers. Currently operating on around 13,500 hectares of eucalyptus, the company plans to integrate the local population in development processes based mainly on employment creation and providing agricultural inputs and technical assistance.

The degree to which rural people become meaningfully incorporated into these foreign investments is conditioned by the mechanisms of compensation which vary from project to project. In this light, this study analyses the character of integration and incorporation of the rural population in the face of neoliberal agricultural intensification with specific reference to the case of Portucel Moçambique. It takes a careful look at the strategies that claim to ‘compensate’ for (for example) the loss of land incurred by rural populations with the implementation of land-based projects, particularly forest plantations. Further, the role of local elites, class dynamics and gender within the rural population are important with regards to benefit distribution, social differentiation and exclusion. Overall, the chapter attempts to answer the following question in relation to the case study: What are the differentiated implications of capital penetration in rural areas, how are different segments of rural working people integrated, and how do they react to it?

2 Methodology and Research Design

In order to answer the above research question, the study was conducted using a Marxist Agrarian Political Economy lens. The research itself is based on a predominantly qualitative approach both for data collection methods and the data analysis process. Primary data on perceptions and characteristics of the main actors were collected, including the following actors: peasants and heads of rural households, peasant women, workers (casual and permanent), and local elites (community leaders, government officials and others). Qualitative data was collected using both existing documentation and primary data collection methods in the study sites. The research focuses on the District of Ile.

Ile district is located in Zambézia province (6633 km2 and 318,383 inhabitants), with around 56.2 inhabitants per km2 (INE 2012). In the district, most households built their houses using ‘precarious’ materials (adobe or sticks), and 97% covered their houses using grass/palm tree leaves. Less than 1 per cent of the population has access to piped water and electricity (INE 2012). The households are mostly subsistence producers with some market integration, and the production techniques are rain-fed and labour intensive. Households provide their own labour force and use simple tools such as hoes and barely have access to fertilisers. They produce mostly maize, peanuts, beans and cassava. Cassava represents the most produced crop in the district (more than 30 per cent of the planted area on average and more than 50 per cent of total production) (INE 2012).

Documentary analysis regarding governmental policies and company reports were very useful in understanding the economic and environmental public policies directed to each study site and nationally. These documents included: national strategies, programmes and policies for the agricultural sector, the national strategy for climate change mitigation and adaptation strategies, yearly district (District of Ile) strategic plans including economic and social reports, Portucel’s yearly reports, Portucel’s social development plan and other relevant reports on the company’s activities and Ile district-related economic and social policies.

Primary data gathering was done during fieldwork that consisted of five field visits made intermittently between 2015 to 2019. The data collection methods included in-depth interviews that followed a purposive sampling process that consisted in selecting a particular subset of interviewees whose experiences could directly inform the research question. This included those whose lives were directly affected by the process of land acquisition (such as heads of households and women who went through expropriation by the company, and people that were employed by the company) and those who participated in the process of land acquisition (local elites, local government officials and so on). The selection method followed the snowball technique, in which interviewees were asked to indicate/nominate, through their networks, other informants that could potentially contribute to the study. This was done, until data collection reached saturation point, where no new or contradictory information was provided by the informants.

Data collection also included focus groups discussions where informants were segregated into small groups (around six to eight individuals with similar experiences—either workers or expropriated individuals) to together discuss specific issues regarding their perceptions of the process of land acquisition by the company (including questions around participation, justice and negotiation) and the implications for their livelihoods (income, food production and other general household needs). Lastly, the researcher engaged in participant observation, including multiple visits to the study sites and spending time in the districts, ‘localities’ and villages in the district.

The data analysis process was conducted using process tracing (Bennett and George 2005), aiming to keep track of and trace the links between possible causes and observed outcomes. This entails aiming to identify causal inferences with a temporal dimension of events. Consequently, validation was guaranteed by using the Constant Comparison Method based on comparing pieces of data, and coded data were driven by trends of similarities and differences between perceptions of all groups of interviewees, following Boeije’s (2002) insights with respect to conducting a purposeful approach of constant comparison.

3 ‘New Scramble’ for Africa and Terms of Incorporation

3.1 Trajectories of Agrarian Change and Capital Penetration: Terms of Incorporation and Pre-Existing Inequalities

The implications of land grabbing on the ground have been studied significantly in the last decades. Overall, there are differentiated implications of and reactions to land grabbing (Amanor, 2012; Borras and Franco 2013; Chambati et al. 2018; Hall et al. 2015; Li 2011; Shivji 2019). Analysis of forms of integration as an outcome of land grabbing leads to debates around adverse incorporation, which happens when rural populations that go through processes of expropriation are incorporated (through different exploitative mechanisms) into the practices of corporations, markets and value chains, but simultaneously being excluded from the benefits of accumulation processes (Hall et al. 2015; Hickey and Du Toit 2013). These mechanisms can include precarious jobs offered by the corporation, unfair contract farming framings, high risks market integration and so on.

Labour dynamics is an issue that is also debated, especially in cases where land is needed, and labour is not, and people end up landless (Li 2011). When labour is not proportionally needed, some rural people become employed while others join the army of a relative surplus population. There are even cases where land is not expropriated but landholders lose control of land (Peluso and Lund 2011).

A range of diverse reactions (resistance and adaptation) from rural populations are considered in the literature (Amanor 2012; Edelman et al. 2013; Hall et al. 2015; Moyo et al. 2012; Shivji 2017; White et al. 2012; Zoomers 2010). Hall et al. (2015) examined the diversity of political reactions from below in the context of dispossession, oppression and social differentiation in the countryside in the midst of the resource rush. These included the dual front of ‘struggle against dispossession’ and ‘struggle against exploitation’ and the diverse range of political reactions that went beyond explicit and overt ‘resistance’, including seeking integration into land deals (Hall et al. 2015).

More recently, the work of pan-Africanist scholars (Amanor 2019; Jha and Yeros 2019; Mazwi et al. 2019) call attention to Global Value Systems (GVSs) as the main feature of contemporary capitalism, where production, processing, distribution and consumption of a single commodity happens in different parts of the globe. By applying this to global agriculture, they put forward the notion of Global Agricultural Value Systems (GAVSs) to further understand processes of global production and consumption, and agrarian change, in the global South, particularly land acquisition and integration schemes (such as contract farming) and their implications for rural populations’ survival strategies. By examining USA imperialism and integration of smallholders into agricultural markets and agribusinesses, Amanor (2019) argues that integration schemes lead ‘to increasing extraction of surplus by agribusiness and increasing cost of production for the farmer’ (Amanor 2019: 30–31).

Shivji (2017) in fact analyses the process of surplus extraction by capital and shows how it is done at the cost of rural working people’s necessary consumption. He refers as ‘Working people’ to the different segments of the rural population which go through exploitation processes, thereby feeding accumulation; thus it is a class against capital, including formal workers, informal workers, peasants, women, rural poor, etc. In this context, the specific positionality of different segments of the working people in rural areas in the context of land grabbing will lead to differentiated positions, reactions and outcomes for rural households. In turn, this is shaped by the specific mechanism of compensation implemented by a particular investment project, including efforts aimed at local community development and corporate social responsibility.

3.2 Segments of the Working People and Terms of Incorporation: Labour, Diversification of Livelihoods, and Gender

Land grabbing entails the separation of people from their means of production as put forward by Marx (1889), who underlined the role of industrialisation in absorbing the so-called ‘relative surplus population’ that was constituted by peasants ‘free’ of land and ‘free’ to sell their labour. Current dynamics of expropriation show very complex contextual and historical specificities regarding the interrelation of labour dynamics, on- and off-farm activities, and gendered (and other identity-based) inequalities in shaping rural livelihood strategies.

Shivji (1987) explains that capital maximises its rate of exploitation by letting peasants retain their means of production and retain control over the labour process so that the costs of peasant reproduction are carried out by the peasants themselves. Additionally, he (Shivji 2017) points out cases where men become semi-proletarianised by working in plantations and women remain ‘peasantised’, with both subsidising capital as both live ‘sub-human’ lives ‘while exerting super-human labour’.

A very specific feature of some African countries, conditioned by the model of colonisation, is the diversification of rural livelihoods. Bryceson (1990) claims that ‘rural income diversification’ entails the ‘expansion of rural dwellers’ income sources away from own farm labour’ (Bryceson 1990: 172). Referring to the agrarian class structure, scholars speak about the changing division of labour based on diversification of rural livelihoods, with proletarianisation being of significance (O’Laughlin 1996; Wuyts 2001). As highlighted by Moyo et al. (2012), ‘multi-occupational’ livelihoods and ‘semi-proletarianisation’ have deepened over a number of decades, with smallholders practicing more than just subsistence production.

In the context of wage employment, Gyapong (2020) studied the implications of the global land rush on wage labour, examining the ‘job creation rhetoric under a laissez-faire investment environment’ (Gyapong 2020: 4). She confirmed that policy frameworks that emphasise the employment potentials of large-scale agricultural investments usually go hand in hand with legislation that facilitates capital accumulation. As a result, ‘non-inclusive’ or ‘inadequate’ labour regulations do not provide a basis for creating long-term employment benefits, at least in the case of large-scale agricultural land investment.

Overall, diversification of rural livelihoods calls for attention to the gendered division of labour within the household. Gender relations strongly shape the outcomes of land grabbing at local levels. Many cases show that men usually become gainfully incorporated through employment and other mechanisms, while women are further excluded from these processes and gender inequalities are intensified (Gyapong 2020; Hall et al. 2015; Julia and White 2012; Levien 2017; Tsikata and Yaro 2014). Tsikata (2016) looks specifically at how gendered land tenure systems have contributed to the disadvantages of rural women’s livelihoods. She points out the importance of recognising the importance of the gendered division of labour in reproduction and in the control of resources, as this affects how women experience processes of land grabbing, implying higher levels of exploitation for this segment of the working people. Additional exploitation of women often takes place in the process of subsidising capital (Shivji, 2017).

As well, Tsikata and Yaro (2014) underline how pre-existing gender inequalities and gender biases embedded in the investment projects are implicated in post-project livelihood activities. They argue that even projects that seemingly include mechanisms of community inclusion might fall short of protecting women’s livelihoods or even limit female access to opportunities if these pre-existing inequalities are not addressed. In the context of incorporation of smallholder farmers into global circuits of accumulation, Torvikey et al. (2016) bring to the fore how men and women are positioned differentially in terms of out-grower value chain employment benefits, as men occupy higher earning positions on permanent contracts, whereas women as disposable casual workers.

Beyond the labour needs specific to each investment or process of dispossession and the class and gender/identity dynamics prevailing, it is important to understand the institutional context in which land grabbing happens. The role of the state, property relations, customary rights and legislation shape land grabbing processes, outcomes, implications and reactions from below.

4 Neoliberal Agrarian Policies and Forest Plantations in Mozambique: The Case of Portucel

4.1 Brief Historical Background, Rural Settings and Rural Livelihoods

There are five main characteristics of colonial exploitation in Mozambique (Serra 2000): (1) export of labour force; (2) production and export of low-processed agricultural commodities such as sugar, tea, sisal, copra, cotton and others in a not substantive amount; (3) imposition of taxes; (4) use of seasonal labour; and, (5) preservation of small-scale family production for subsistence. Labour force exploitation was one of the main strategies of colonial Portugal and of foreign capital concessions in colonial Mozambique—which shaped dynamics of semi-proletarianisation among the peasantry. In the period from 1930 to 1970, Portuguese colonialism intensified the integration of peasants into the global capitalist economy, including transforming native Mozambicans from the southern parts into a labour reserve for South African mining capital. Meanwhile, the centre and north of the country were turned into a plantation economy and family sector as producers of food and cash crops for the external market (Serra 2000).

The first scramble for Africa shaped agrarian societies into what they look like today. Historical processes of agrarian transformation as a result of colonialism and imperialism are still present, at least implicitly, particularly with regards to rural livelihoods, land distribution and vulnerabilities. In the specific case of Mozambique, the imposition of taxes on the native population alongside labour exploitation and taxes and dividends from the concession of land to foreign investors through the plantation economy were the main features of Portuguese colonialism in Mozambique. Semi-proletarianisation started right after the intensification of gold demand from the Portuguese crown when peasants would divide their time between the gold mines and their farms for subsistence. This historical path set the stage for multiple changes in rural livelihoods in the country. In this light, current market integration and diversification of rural livelihoods while maintaining smallholders’ link to the land in order to provide them with a level of subsistence is a clear continuity of colonialism. Maintaining smallholders’ farming of land for food and, simultaneously, exploiting their labour, was and is a strategy of the capitalist classes to subsidise and smoothen their own activities and capital accumulation.

Two aspects of the colonial economic structure are worth underlining: (1) dependency of South African capitalism on Mozambique in relation to transit transport services (ports and railways) and the supply of migrant labour, and (2) colonial Mozambique’s production of primary commodities destined for exports (cashew, cotton, sugar, copra and tea) (Bowen 2000: 27–28). These constitute the base for the emergence of the current extractivist model of development existing in Mozambique, which shapes households’ local economies and rural development trajectories. According to Wuyts, these features resulted in three main clusters of livelihood strategies for the peasantry, namely: (i) selling crops to the market, (ii) selling labour (to plantations in the North and Centre regions, and as a labour reserve for South African mining), and (iii) practicing agriculture for own consumption.

After independence, peasants engaged even further in diversified strategies of livelihoods, which, from the perspective of O’Laughlin (2002), expresses the peasantry’s agency in resisting and creating their own paths of livelihoods and survival. Forced labour and forced cropping, as well as resistance to both of these forms of coercion, as well as ongoing processes of commodification and proletarianisation, hence go some way in explaining the current complexities of multiple livelihoods in rural Mozambique.

With the adoption of the Bretton Woods institutions’ structural adjustment programmes, the Mozambican economy took a neoliberal turn which only intensified after the 2000s. High levels of foreign direct investment (FDI), engaged in extract-and-export schemes, directed both to the extractive industry and the agricultural sector, made Mozambique one of the main targets of land grabbing in the last decade (Land MatrixFootnote 1). Rural development and livelihoods are being highly shaped by these dynamics, as evidenced by the foreign investments of Portucel Moçambique and the implications of its land acquisition model and social development plan for the district of Ile.

4.2 Portucel Moçambique, Land Acquisition Model and Social Development Plan

Forest plantations were introduced in the country around the 1920s as part of colonial economic policy. In the post-colonial socialist period, plantations were part of the agrarian policy, but this intensified recently with the emphasis on neoliberal policies that now guide the Mozambican Government. As well, forest plantations were included in the narratives of climate change mitigation and were introduced as part of the national strategy to mitigate climate change, specifically the REDD+ (MITADER 2016).

In this context, Portucel Moçambique (with 20 per cent of its shares belonging to the World Bank’s International Finance Corporation) initiated one of the largest megaprojects in Mozambique and the largest in the agricultural sector, not only in terms of the size of the land occupation but also in terms of volume of investment (around 2.5 billion USD). The Navigator Company (formerly Portucel Soporcel group) is currently one of the world’s largest producers of bleached eucalyptus pulp (BEKP) and the first European producer of uncoated fine printing and writing paper (UWF). It began its activities in 2009, grabbing, with the support of the State, over 350,000 hectares of land in the Zambézia and Manica provinces. In Zambézia, the company focused on two districts, Ile and Namarroi (a total of 173,327 hectares), predicting a plantation of approximately 120,000 hectares of eucalyptus trees.

The company was authorised to acquire 356,000 hectares of land in Mozambique for 50 renewable years (i.e. this can be renewed and extended if the company complies with its proposed exploration plan) and to plant approximately two-thirds of the area. According to the company’s plan, the first phase of the investment includes the plantation of a forest base of about 40,000 hectares alongside the supply of a eucalyptus wood chip production unit (to be built) which will guarantee the export of around one million tons per year. The second phase would comprise the expansion of the forest base to 160,000 hectares and the construction of an industrial pulp production unit.Footnote 2

As an estimate, around 25,000 families were resident on those 356,000 hectares. Up to 2019, around 3500 families have had shares of their land ‘transferred’ to Portucel (but with exceptional cases of total land transferred). Portucel has managed to plant only 13,500 hectares of eucalyptus in both provinces, but most of Portucel’s activities are concentrated in Zambezia province. It is in Zambezia that the company installed its nursery, one of the biggest in Africa, that feeds the plantations of both provinces and occupies an area of 7.5 hectares (with an annual installed production capacity of more than 12 million clonal eucalyptus plants).

Contrary to the Mozambican Land Law, Portucel’s land occupation model does not involve resettlement. It negotiated with the Ministers’ Council that, in exchange for the land, it would offer employment and implement a Social Development Plan—the Portucel Social Development Plan (PSDP)—for the communities residing in both provinces. The plan aims to invest US$40 million to improve the living conditions of approximately 25,000 families residing in the company’s areas.

The main objective of the PSDP, from the company’s perspective, is to create and share value and prosperity with local communities through forest plantation investments and by way of (1) training on farming techniques (Climate Smart Agriculture); (2) distribution of livestock and seeds; (3) construction of barns; (4) water holes; and (5) construction and rehabilitation of roads and bridges. The company claims that about 5800 families and 115 communities in the Provinces of Manica and Zambézia have already benefitted from the PSDP, which has been implemented since 2015.

Besides not resettling the households whose land has been ‘transferred’ to the company, one very important process that was not fully respected by the company is the legal requirement of ‘community consultation’. The Land Law and its statutes state that any household that is about to transfer land to another individual or company should be properly consulted, present and state their consent, and accept the compensation for the loss of land (either new areas to reside or other types of compensation).

This procedure was not met. The company and the government organised consultations after granting the land to the company. These consultations did not involve negotiating the transfer of land. Rather, what was negotiated was how much land each household would be willing to transfer in exchange for being incorporated into the PSDP or to gain employment. Additionally, not all households were consulted, such that some went through the expropriation of land without ever being informed about the conditions of the transfer. In the main, community leaders and local rural elites were present in such meetings and not ordinary smallholders.

Overall, two main deviations from the law were apparent during the process of land acquisition. The first was the decision about ‘no resettlement policy’ for the local smallholders, and the second was the non-inclusive and non-participatory nature of the consultation process (entailing limited or no negotiation and consent). The process was a top-down one with high levels of imposition.

5 Implications and Reactions of the Working People

5.1 Neoliberal Authoritarianism and Marginalisation of Local Needs

The historical path of imposing agricultural policies with no regard to existing peasant economies and the overall agrarian question of the country is systematically marginalising rural households. Data from interviews confirmed that the land occupation process undertaken by Portucel did not follow the Land Law (and its recognition of customary rights) and that the project was implemented in an authoritarian and undemocratic way—as most of the households were not consulted and some did not even give consent to ‘transfer’ the land. As indicated, the Mozambican Land Law states that the transfer of land rights first requires public consultation with current landholders. Multiple heads of households claim that not only were they not consulted but that, even if they disagreed or protested the land acquisition by the company, they were still going to lose the land. Also, the repressive character of the government itself regarding any negative reactions on the part of smallholder farmers was a consistent issue during the land acquisition process. As one peasant women said:

We were not consulted at all. We would just see machines coming and cleaning our land for their own ends. If you wanted to complain the leader would come and would tell you that the land is not ours, the land belonged to the Government and God. And they would come in, cutting down everything… Even if you protest, they wouldn’t accept. (Expropriated peasant woman, Ile, 2019)

During the interviews, a concurrent question asked of those who had been disposed of land related to their feelings towards the investment being implemented in their areas. A consistent answer was that eucalyptus does not constitute a priority, as the priority would be to produce food instead (as ‘eucalyptus does not kill hunger’, in the words of one smallholder). Clearly, this was not taken into account when the decision was made by the Mozambican government to agree to Portucel’s project. The plantation investment privileges external investors’ will to accumulate and international market demand for primary commodities. Certainly, local needs and priorities do not constitute the central agenda of this project, as smallholders were actually marginalised and their aspirations ignored.

One might argue that it would be through incorporation into the PSDP that the local population would benefit from food production, income-generating projects and other projects that aim to bring about social and community development. However, again, the design, planning and implementation of the PSDP were insensitive to smallholder viewpoints and the livelihood concerns of affected households. The PDSP was designed in a top-down manner without fully considering the priorities and aspirations of the local population. One example of this was the introduction of new crops by distributing new seeds that were not a part of the local households’ diet or that did not grow properly in their soils such that, consequently, food production was undermined. During one interview, a head of household claimed that locals wanted an orange agro-processing unit since the region produces significant volumes of oranges that end up rotting. However, no development assistance in this regard has been forthcoming.

5.2 Inefficient and Insufficient Compensation for the Loss of Livelihoods

The PSDP constituted a set of projects to be implemented in order to compensate for the loss of land and forest resources incurred by rural households. These projects were expected to provide agricultural inputs and technical assistance. Multiple promises were used to ‘convince’ households to transfer their land, at least for those few who were actually consulted (and not regarding the implementation of the project itself, but merely regarding the transfer of land). A consistent feature emerging from the interviews with all segments of the working people was that Portucel had failed to keep its promises, such as employment, distribution of seeds and improvement of overall livelihoods conditions. To quote one local:

They promised us a lot of benefits… for 50 years! So, I thought even when I die and my grandchildren will still benefit from this. And we started to “give” our land… But we don’t see all of those things they promised; … even they said they would bring seeds, but we have been receiving only 1 or 2 kilogrammes per household per year. They also promised us goats, pots and other things. These promises are yet to be fulfilled. (Expropriated peasant man, Ile, 2019)

Although some rural households acknowledge that they have been receiving seeds and technical assistance, they complain that the seeds were insufficient for the needs of each household, were distributed late in the season and/or they were not appropriate for the edapho-climatic conditions of the region:

Yes, they distributed seeds including beans and maize. But because the soil is not compatible, they have to change to other seeds that are compatible here;… most of us are asking for seeds that are compatible to our land. For example, peanuts, beans [would be better], because maize does not grow here, maybe with manure. (Community Leader, Ile, 2019)

Most of the households interviewed claimed that one of the reasons why they did not protest and thereby allowed their land to be ‘transferred’ to Portucel, was because they believed that the company would provide permanent employment for at least one person in each household, which would allow them to have a fixed monthly income that could compensate losing part of their land. Nevertheless, most of the households (around 80 per cent) only had access to casual work or did not have access to work at all. Most of the interviewees who had access to casual work said that it did not compensate at all for the loss of land as they would work on average one to two months, earning 170 Meticais a day (around 2 to 3 USD):

Yes, I worked there, maybe for a month or so. With the money I bought salt and food. I couldn’t even buy a bicycle, because the money was so little… Life got worse;… before we were able to produce in our farms, even to sell produce. After Portucel came, everything stopped, [I] can’t even produce cassava, can’t get any money, nothing. Before I could even buy clothes for my children, buckets, plates, pots… . (Expropriated Peasant woman, Ile, 2019)

Besides having lost their land with insufficient compensation for their losses, households went through a loss of access to forest resources as a result of the company’s deforestation. Those forest resources such as mushrooms and small animals highly contributed to meeting their dietary needs, firewood to cook or even grass to build their houses—all central to local livelihoods and social reproduction. The implementation of the project thus seriously curtailed access to such resources. However, not all rural households were affected in the same way, so the next section focusses on differentiated implications and responses by distinct segments of the working people.

6 Differentiated Reactions and Implications for Differentiated Segments of the Working People

Overall, as discussed, the process of land expropriation provided unfair and insufficient compensation for rural households in a context where their voices were not heard. With exception of local elites, there was a convergence among the interviewees that the PSDP and the employment opportunities provided by the company were insufficient to cover their losses. The process of land acquisition was negatively perceived by most households and is believed to have intensified localised poverty.

The affected rural households did not constitute a homogeneous class. On the contrary, factors such as class, gender, kinship, and age differentiated the working people into distinct groups that went through differentiated experiences, terms of incorporation and outcomes with reference to the process of land grabbing. More broadly, regarding global processes, pre-existing inequalities within rural societies shape the dynamics of incorporation and condition the experiences of each segment of the working people. At the same time, the segments of working people are not clearly delimited and segregated. The categories present grey boundaries, and households may migrate from one segment to another or even belong to multiple segments.

The key distinctions were made in relation to similarities and differences in terms of experiences and outcomes vis-à-vis the neoliberal land grabbing process. I thus identified the following four segments of the working people and discussed their specific experiences and terms of incorporation: (1) wage workers; (2) poorer peasants; (3) women; and (4) local elites.

Wage workers are a significant segment of the working people because the company was able to provide employment for rural households with permanent jobs mostly as guards, nursery workers, and ‘agentes de ligação’ (i.e. men that liaise between community and the company) as well as seasonal workers for the plantations. Gender inequalities are very clear and culturally present in this particular area and, because women usually undergo multiple forms of marginalisation within and outside the community, it is indeed relevant to underline their experiences.

Local elites, who are influential members of the rural population, are likely to constitute the better off segment of the working people, retaining power nowadays as a result of localised historical dynamics. This group of individuals is a product of pre-colonial, colonial and post-independence rural structures and traditional native leadership, and they have access to conditions for accumulating from below based on owning large plots of land or by advantageously taking over colonial investments in the post-independent period after the Portuguese flee the country or even via links to the revolutionary force—Frelimo (the party in power since independence).

6.1 Permanent Wage Workers: More Land, More Benefits

Most of the households employed by the company were casual workers, who only worked once or twice to prepare and clean plots of land before planting and did not work for the company again. This labour relation did not have a significant impact on their livelihoods. The story about permanent workers, whether with or without a formal contract, is somewhat different. These are usually men who had relatively large plots of land (prior to Portucel) that were not in use or used as fallows in preparation for subsequent seasons or to distribute among the next generation.

Because they owned more land than relatively poorer peasants, they were able to transfer relatively larger plots of land to the company and remain with relatively enough smaller plots for their own subsistence. They tended to be the first to be called and offered a permanent job. Being employed means that they get a fixed monthly income that is partially invested in their farmland (inputs and labour), and they are able to produce enough food and cash crops to sell in the markets. They began to hire-in labour (approximately 5 to 8 people, usually women and poorer peasants) plus making use of the labour of their wives, for their farms. Beyond this, they receive seeds and usually technical assistance for their farms as part of the PSDP, which poorer peasants do not (the more land you give, the more you are prioritised in the PDSP activities as well).

However, accumulation from below and significant life improvements were not confirmed during the interviews with these permanent workers. These wage workers would acknowledge the benefits of a monthly salary but would complain about the burden of work versus the amount of money they receive. A permanent worker—a guard—oversees 48 blocks of eucalyptus and controls fires. These workers need a cellphone and a bicycle to do the work, but they have to buy these themselves. Some are able to, and some are not, and they have to walk long distances to take care of distant blocks of eucalyptus. One guard highlighted:

My life has gotten better. Now I can buy things for my children that I wasn’t able to buy before, like radio, bicycle… Before I was working with no formal contract, until 2018. But I receive the same salary since 2018: 4200 Meticais [around USD 62] per month. They say the salary depends on the Government; [my salary would improve] if the Government raises the salary [official minimum wage]. But as my wife works in the farm [his land] with some people we hired, we manage to get produce to sell in the market. (Portucel Guard, Ile, 2019)

Although they have access to more money, the overall household expenses are still not fully met. They have to compensate with overexploitation of their own labour, including the wives’ agricultural labour and the latter’s contribution to social reproduction. So, they end up subsidising capital via self-exploitation:

Since I started working in the company my life improved, not totally, but at least the minimum. But the negative part is the working time [the load of work]. We can’t add our value to the community and have businesses that help the community grow… I was working in the field and lost my phone. It costs 600 Meticais and I receive 500 or 400 Meticais. I am not going to be able to buy a new one. We want a salary that enables us to grow. It is hard to wake up and go to my farm at 4 am to 7 am and then go work the rest of the day for the company. (Portucel Worker, Ile, 2019)

Although many permanent wage workers have connections to local elites by kinship, most of them do not own enough means of production to accumulate from below as the local elites do easily. They might be better off than many other segments (such as poorer peasants and women), but they still struggle to fulfill their livelihoods and social reproduction needs. They do this by further self-exploitation. They claim that they want better terms of incorporation, but their current economic status inhibits any struggle on their part against dispossession or protests against Portucel.

6.2 Poorer Peasants: Intensified Drudgery and Self-Exploitation

This segment is constituted by smallholders who always owned relatively less land and did not have links with local elites. Before the company arrived, most of them practised subsistence agriculture and maybe eventually would sell any surplus (if there were any) in the market. Because of the PSDP promises (including about employment) that were made by the company, most transferred their land to the company (for some, they were forcedly expropriated), ending up with not enough land to survive or even with no land at all. For those who were ‘lucky’ to be called for casual work, they also experienced labour exploitation:

They want us to work from dawn to dusk. It is very hard work, and the pay is low, does not compensate and we are not happy with that, the money is so little. They hire us to work only a few days and then try to make [through severe labour demands] the most of our work during each day from dawn to dusk. (Expropriated peasant man, Ile, 2019)

Nowadays, this segment of the working people is experiencing intensified poverty and food insecurity and has had to adopt other livelihood strategies for survival. The most common strategies include: (1) selling labour to better off households (permanent wage workers or rural elites); (2) borrowing or renting land from family or other members of the community; (3) engaging in migrant work; and (4) migrating permanently.

In going through the dispossession of most of their land (or all of it), poorer peasants are encountering significant difficulties in securing food. This is exacerbated by the rupture of access to forest resources to meet their food needs (including hunting small animals and collecting mushrooms), which was a key livelihoods strategy before the deforestation undertaken by Portucel. Additionally, the smaller plots of land that were left are surrounded by eucalyptus plantations and do not register the same levels of productivity as before—particularly given the current competition for water and destruction of ecosystems and soil nutrients as a result of land intensification from the forest plantation.

6.3 Women: Exclusion and Sub-Human Lives

Although women and poorer peasants present many similarities in terms of implications of the process of expropriation, and many unmarried or widowed women are part of the poorer peasant segment, there are very relevant specificities that should be underlined. More so than men, women interviewed claimed that they were not consulted before the company occupied their lands. This may be explained with respect to the gender inequalities in rural Mozambique, as traditional and customary cultural habits usually exclude women from decision-making processes. This involves excluding women from meetings with outsiders and the government in deciding the future of the community. Usually men, mostly elite men, are present in such meetings and in contributing to the decision-making process. Even in ensuring that women (in one particular community) were interviewed for this study, men (particularly the community leader) had to be present.

In relation to labour dynamics, many women interviewed were employed by the company as casual workers rather than long-term, permanently or formally. Also, they were badly paid, as one women noted: ‘I worked for less than a month. With the money I bought salt and food. Didn’t even buy a bicycle. The money just wasn’t enough’. Usually, members of their families (husband, sons, nephews, sons-in-law) were employed instead of them, who owned the land in the first place. A community leader in Ile explained that, in his view, (usually older) women that transferred their land should transfer their casual job opportunity (‘offered’ by the company as an exchange for her land) to young and capable men, who in the end, will share the remuneration with her in half. On a woman’s behalf, he explains this situation as follows:

She [previous land owner] and her daughter gave their land [to Portucel]. But because they are women, they can’t handle this type of job, only men can handle [it]. After the men got the job [casual employment], they shared the income in half. One half for them [women land owner] as land owners and the other half for the men that worked… For the other one [another woman that was present at the meeting] as well, because they don’t have sons, don’t have men in their families, it was the same process. (Community Leader, Ile, 2019)

Noticeably, though, many women in other communities were able to access casual employment at Portucel. This shows how opportunities may be grabbed from women by men due to localised systems of gender inequality.

As noted, one of the strategies of poorer (male) peasants was to migrate or move to peri-urban areas to look for employment; meanwhile, their wives stayed on the land and became fully responsible for both household social reproduction and farm work. For example, before Portucel expropriated their land, Dona Deolinda and her husband would work on the farm with the help of people who would get paid for their labour in exchange for food (from the farm). After Portucel and the loss of land, her husband went to the city looking for jobs in construction while she stayed at home farming on borrowed land and offering and hiring out her labour to better off households from the village. Seemingly living under sub-human conditions, Dona Deolinda and other women experience significant burdens and a very precarious existence, and she lamented:

It’s bad. I don’t have anything. Not cassava, anything. I don’t understand why cassava and beans do not grow next to the eucalyptus; it absorbs all the water. My husband had to move to the city to work in construction and he sends me a little money that is not enough. I have to work in other people’s farms to get some money. (Expropriated Peasant Woman, Ile, 2019)

As a kind of ecological rupture, women spoke of their small plots and gardens right next to the eucalyptus plantation and how this remaining small plot of land did not produce food for subsistence because of the absence of water. Another ecological rupture, as noted, was the lack of access to forest resources, including mushrooms and other edibles. Overall, these women, instead of struggling for better terms of incorporation, would much rather have their land back. As Dona Zita claims: ‘I would rather have my land back. They took over our land in vain!

6.4 Local Elites: Intensification of Social Differentiation by Accumulation from Below

Community leaders (by lineage and kinship) and their relatives, richer/better off peasants (have larger plots of land and livestock), and local government officials constitute rural local elites in the study area. They are usually very influential within the community and are at the forefront of decision-making and negotiation processes with external actors. This puts them in an advantageous position in terms of access to information and eligibility regarding external programmes, and enhances their opportunity of receiving any benefits deriving from such progammes. A clear example of this is the process through which the PSDP was implemented, including the beneficiary selection process.

For the implementation of the PSDP, smallholders were aggregated into groups, and the group leader would benefit from a demonstration plot—a portion of land to implement new farming techniques so that others would follow. For that reason, the group leader would receive seeds and other inputs and any technical assistance necessary to maintain the demonstration plot as an example of improved productivity, thereby facilitating learning by other smallholders. Information from the field confirmed that the most influential members of the community were chosen—they were the ones that met the criteria, including having an ID card and enough land alongside experience with the commercialisation of surplus and a firmly established market network. By interviewing one of the elected leaders, who previously owned the community mill, certain advantages were identified:

I didn’t get employed. My benefit is to be the group leader. With the income I managed to buy a motor pump to irrigate my farms using a solar panel. I thank Portucel for these improvements… What I didn’t like is that they didn’t keep all promises. Myself, I am fine, but others are sad. If at least they build a hospital, improve schools, build a secondary school for our children … . [it would be better]. (Demonstration Plots Leader, Ile, 2019)

Besides having the privilege of accessing inputs and technical assistance, they have the capacity to hire-in labour to work on their other farmland, where they may also apply these new agricultural practices. Labour availability is crucial in applying these techniques (practices) because they require more work than traditional techniques, and the rest of the smallholders do not have the money to pay for extra hired labour. As one demonstration plot leader highlighted:

I was chosen to be responsible for a group of 24 farmers. I am responsible for taking care of the demonstration field by introducing new farming techniques. They taught me how to farm using these new techniques. The other 24 hardly make it. Maybe they can apply these new techniques in smaller areas. Because it is hard work [comparing with traditional techniques]. To do half a hectare or one hectare of that is really hard work. I have at least 6 to 8 people working for me and I pay 50 meticais per day. (Demonstration Plot Leader, Ile, 2019)

The efficiency of these demonstration plots has been questioned because most smallholders are not even able to reproduce the new techniques. Also, it is clear how unevenly distributed these ‘benefits’ from PSDP are on the ground. In certain cases, some local elites have benefitted both by being employed and at the same time holding a demonstration plot, which will further allow accumulation from below. Because of this uneven distribution of benefits, the company is able to form alliances and ensure that the local elites are on their side. In a way, this unfair incorporation of local elites into the process facilitates the company’s modus operandi and undercuts resistance from within the community.

7 Reactions and Resistance from Below

Differentiated reactions from different segments of the working people were observed. There was a mix of struggles, from improved incorporation into the Portucel process to struggles against dispossession caused by Portucel. With the exception of local elites, it is clear that a significant share of households is not satisfied and is to some extent frustrated with the process of land expropriation and the ensuing compensation, including in relation to the implications arising from the implementation of this project—economic, social and environmental implications. So, some unorganised, covert and unstructured forms of resistance are unfolding, resembling Scott’s (1989) everyday forms of resistance.

Complaints and badmouthing are very common when people refer to the company and the company’s practices, even in conversations with ‘outsiders’. Further than that, the guards registered multiple cases of people quietly cutting down eucalyptus trees as a form of protest. There is also evidence of starting fires deliberately in order to destroy large hectarages of eucalyptus plantations in different parts of the region, either because the smallholders did not receive compensation or because they wanted their land back. One woman expressed her frustration and anger in the following way:

Nothing got better. We are here crying. We want our land back to farm because we see nothing now. They fooled us and brought nothing that they had promised. They said they would bring zinc plates for our homes, that we would benefit from this company for 50 years and so on. Nothing was done. That is why we are crying. Even the seeds they promised, they don’t bring them anymore. And then I think “why did I accept this transfer of land in the first place?”. (Expropriated Peasant Woman, Ile, 2019)

Some smallholders feel that they still need to be compensated or at least compensated more fully. But others, mainly women, would rather have their land back so that they are able to farm again and get their food and life back. A sense of injustice is shared among most of the households, even the ones that got some benefits out of the programme, because they are all able to grasp that the community is only receiving a small share of the pie. Hence, they feel they deserve more:

Why doesn’t the company hire us from the community to do the jobs that their technicians and their contractors [outsourcing of planting eucalyptus] do? The money they pay these out-comers they could be paying us. Why do we, land owners, have to suffer in order to gain something? The contractors receive 40,000 or even 50,000 meticais and community members work and receive only 700 meticais. This creates adversity in the community. We already transferred our land, where our children would be producing. But now, someone else is making profit out of it. We feel very sad. When we work there [casual work] they come and abuse us, insult us, offend our people working there. We already complained to the company and called them out in order for them to change this situation. The community is crying, is still crying. It is sad. If we transferred the land it is because we were afflicted, we needed help. We are not against the company, we are against seeing other people benefitting from this project, not us. (Portucel Worker “Agente de ligação”, Ile, 2019)

8 Conclusion

The current global resource rush under neoliberal policies is reshaping rural settings and livelihoods, claiming to be promoting rural employment and social development. However, many studies reveal patterns of dispossession, exclusion and intensification of poverty in rural areas. Corporations (such as Portucel) have been implementing social development plans in order to incorporate rural households into the process of development and thereby improve their livelihoods, though without always taking into account pre-existing rural structures and dynamics. Trends indicate that such mechanisms of incorporation are not improving the rural livelihoods of smallholders as they rather constitute a consolidated mechanism for the legitimation of capital accumulation and land gabs. Moreover, most smallholders end up adversely incorporated into foreign investment-led rural development, ultimately resulting in the inclusion of the few and the exclusion of the majority.

The findings for this study of Mozambique showed that different segments of the rural population experienced Portucel’s social development plans differently, conditioned by the pre-existing rural structures and inequalities. In this way, intra-community relations and inequalities exacerbate the implications of dispossession and expropriation. Local elites were able to be incorporated insofar as they showed signs of accumulation from below. Workers, poorer peasants and women underwent exploitation of their labour to feed the accumulation of the company and the local elites. The weight and costs of social reproduction were further transferred and carried ultimately by women, who were excluded the most from the process.

Because of differentiated experiences and outcomes regarding the process of land grabbing and the mechanism of incorporation, different reactions and struggles arose. A mix of struggles against dispossession (and wanting their land back) and struggles for better terms of incorporation appear in the different segments of the working people. Struggles against dispossession prevailed in particular amongst the most marginalised segments, whereas struggles for better terms of incorporation were identified in better off segments.

Overall, it is important to underline that both pre-existing structures and inequalities and the mechanism of incorporation heavily condition the outcomes of land grabbing and the reactions from below. This is because they determine both the level of exclusion that each segment experiences as well as the compensation for their losses resulting from expropriation. This chapter demonstrates and strengthens the argument that the working people are not a homogenous class in rural spaces. The struggles of different segments of this class may diverge, converge and overlap and they may differ in reactions and implications.