Bean Is Believing.

Chiapas, the southernmost state of Mexico, is not an easy place to do business. Historically a poor and volatile region, the last five years have been particularly hard on its rural Mayan populace. Since 1994, an armed indigenous peoples rebellion--the Zapatista rebellion--has caused the Mexican government to commit, over time, nearly half of its forces--around 70,000 troops--to the state. On top of this, multiple paramilitary groups operate, and violence and brutality are routine. In the middle of this chaos is American Kerry Appel and his Human Bean Company.

After almost thirty years of traveling throughout Mexico and Central America, Appel found himself in Chiapas just as the Zapatista uprising was getting underway. He took it upon himself to investigate the causes of the violence. The rebellion began on January 1, 1994, the same day the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) took effect. This was not a coincidence; one of the Zapatistas' main concerns is the loss, under NAFTA, of indigenous peoples' right to communally and ejido held land. According to the first declaration of war on the Mexican government by the Zapatista army, those in power

   don't care that we have nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a roof over
   our heads, no land, no work, no health care, no food nor education. Nor are
   we able to freely elect our political representatives, nor is there
   independence from foreigners, nor is there peace and justice for ourselves
   and our children.

Appel had found something to believe in.

Returning to the United States, Appel committed himself to supporting the Zapatista cause. Unconvinced that aiding the violence by running guns to the rebels was the way to go, he was convinced that "to be in solidarity one should act upon the needs expressed by those struggling." One of those needs concerned new markets for Chiapas' main cash crop: coffee. Ordinarily, the Zapatista communities' only access to the international coffee market is through intermediaries who pay excruciatingly low prices. "The coyotes come to indigenous communities that have no infrastructure, no markets," says Appel. "They bring their own scale, tell them what their product weighs and what they're going to pay. It is usually far below the cost of producing the coffee." If Appel could import the beans to the United States directly, paying a just or fair-trade price many times that of the intermediaries, he would be supporting the struggle while helping the poor of Chiapas help themselves.

Is Appel sticking his nose where it ought not be? Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo had this to say of foreigners involved in Chiapas:

   The Mexican people and the federal government cannot allow foreign people
   [to be] directly involved in the conflict of Chiapas ... even though they
   contend that they do so for humanitarian reasons.... [Those] interfering
   ... could do more by working to address the injustices in their own
   countries left by authoritarianism and the exclusion of their forefathers.

Appel agrees that concern should begin at home but feels it is the policies of the U.S. and Mexican governments that have caused him to act:

   If it wasn't for the fact that Zedillo's predecessor, Carlos Salinas de
   Gortari, changed the constitution of Mexico at the request of the United
   States, if it wasn't for the fact that Mexico ended communal land rights at
   the request of the United States, if it wasn't for the fact that hundreds
   of millions of dollars of U.S. arms are in Chiapas, then I would be
   completely in agreement with Zedillo.

Beyond the politics, Appel contends, "There are certain things that transcend borders. One of those things is human rights."

Appel is far from alone in his at tempts to add a degree of social justice to international commerce. From Equal Exchange on the east coast to Global Exchange on the west, fair-trade organizations are spreading throughout the United States. Businesses concerned with an array of issues--indigenous peoples' rights, environmental concerns, the alleviation of poverty, women's rights, and the like--are using fair-trade pricing and consumer education to promote their causes and empower producers. Profit margins soon become secondary with these businesses. As Appel puts it, "We can afford to take into account the cultural, political, economic, as well as the human values, that are part of international business." Apparently so; his coffee purchases have more than doubled each of the past five years.

I traveled recently to Chiapas with Appel. Having had the opportunity to live in coffee-producing villages, help with the coffee harvest, take part in community meetings, and speak with Appel's business partners, two things became clear. First, those with whom he does business are very appreciative of his efforts. His concern for their welfare, coupled with his active role in opening new markets for their coffee, offer a positive influence not often felt from outsiders. Second, the people of Chiapas recognize the need for change. "We are suffering too much," I was told by one farmer. "Kerry wants to help and he does."

Brandt Milstein is a freelance writer from Colorado, currently serving with the Peace Corps in Honduras.3