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The Honduran Republic of Chiquita
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Embargoed until Thursday, November 21, A.M., 1996

Working for the Yankee Dollar:

The Honduran Republic of Chiquita

*Honduras--Latin America's Ultimate Banana Republic, Courtesy Chiquita.

*Stranger than fiction charges of bribery, armed assaults, abduction attempts, snatched documents, destroyed banana shipments, murder-for-hire-contracts, a disappearance of a corrupt judge and the likely emergence of another, and a tainted Supreme Court, placed at Chiquita's door.

*Chiquita's Carl Lindner, billionaire contributor to Democratic and Republican presidential candidates, promotes campaign to morally debase penniless nation, as he has done Washington.

*Integrity of Honduras' basic democratic institutions at stake. Is U.S. AID wasting its funds targeted on reform of the Honduran judiciary, which features one of the most corrupt supreme courts in Latin America?

*Chiquita-friendly U.S. consul grants vanishing visa to corrupt Honduran judge.

*Ongoing Honduran Chiquita scandal could exceed in notoriety the uproar surrounding the Kathie Lee Gifford-brand sweat shops, further humiliating the Central American nation. Texaco scandal dwarfed by L'Affaire Chiquita ten-times over.

*Negroponte's vermiculated legacy: already compromised U.S. embassy couldn't be less interested about justice.


Note: The Council on Hemispheric Affairs (COHA) has a complete set of documentation regarding Chiquita and the Stalinski case in its possession, including court writs and judgements, as well as a wide range of depositions, which is available to bona fide investigative journalists. These primary sources solidly, if not devastatingly, corroborate every contention made in this memorandum. There is every reason to believe that Chiquita's present highly compromised conduct in Honduras dwarfs by many times the ongoing controversy surrounding the Texaco Corporation, and caricatures the efforts of David Rockefeller and other reputable U.S. business leaders to develop a sense of corporate responsibility in the operation of U.S. businesses abroad. Chiquita's troubling role in Honduras deserves the merciless scrutiny that this memorandum hopefully, and in a small way, begins to provide. COHA is also readying a series of collateral initiatives to identify the full range of Chiquita Brands International's buckaroo behavior in Honduras and elsewhere in Latin America, and any privileged treatment that its CEO and heavy Clinton and Dole campaign donor, Carl Lindner, as well as other Chiquita officials may have improperly received from the U.S. embassy in Tegucigalpa, or in Washington's legislative and executive corridors.


Chiquita--Skullduggery Unlimited

Indisputable documentation now in the hands of the Council on Hemispheric Affairs (COHA), establishes that the Cincinnati-based banana giant, Chiquita Brands International, known throughout Central America as the "Octopus," has used virtual gangster tactics to eliminate the competing Anglo-Irish Fyffes Group Ltd. It also has bought off witnesses in order to give tainted testimony in Honduran courts, as well as harassed and threatened the life of Fyffes' former Honduran chief agent and general manager. Chiquita's target was German-born Otto Stalinski, a highly regarded and well established businessman and longtime resident of Honduras, who had spent the last 19 years of his life in Latin America engaged in a variety of successful commercial ventures. Chiquita's mission was to preserve its favored position as an entity above the law, so that its transgressions, no matter how deserving of censor, could continue with impunity, as it strived to maximize profits.

A trail stretching from the banana plantations of Honduras to the corridors of power in Washington, and featuring charges of attempted assassination, bribed judges, and wall-to-wall corruption--which long has been a lamentable fact of life in Honduras, one of Latin America's poorest nations--ends at the Cincinnati offices of Carl Lindner. The CEO of Chiquita Brand International, presides over a conglomerate worth an estimated $3 billion. In addition to bananas, its other assets include meat-packing plants, canneries, ice cream factories, and fresh vegetable operations. In fact, bananas currently provide only 50% of the total annual sales of Lindner's empire.

Nevertheless, when it comes to bananas, Lindner is king. Through its cultivation of low-cost, "dollar bananas" on large plantations on the mainland of Central and South America, Chiquita controls close to 70% of the world market. Its Honduran subsidiary, Tela Railroad Company, Inc., not only possesses 800,000 acres of land in that country, but has had an inordinate influence over its government, particularly during the corrupt Administration of Rafael Callejas (1988-1992), under which Chiquita's influence may have peaked, now that the reformist government of Carlos Reina holds office.

Lindner's philosophy and business ethic are remarkably similar to those behind the operations of Chiquita's progenitor, United Fruit, during its good old days in Guatemala. Hondurans now are beginning to realize that the harvest from Chiquita's presence may be as bitter as it was for their Central American neighbor under United Fruit. Like its parent, Chiquita has spent a lot of money in Washington buying influence, and when the time came to use it, it was at Lindner's disposal. As for Honduras, the Chiquita caudillo apparently sees the country as little more than his personal banana fiefdom where, for a price, everything is for sale.

At this moment, Honduras' very viability as a modern state deserving of inclusion into free trade groupings and consideration as a prospective environment for new foreign investment (particularly from the EU) is at stake. The question is whether President Reina will have the political courage to stand up to Chiquita, and in a determined manner, dislodge the existing, fatally-flawed judicial system with the same fortitude with which he has dealt with an armed forces far from sympathetic to civilian democracy. As the system stands, and with scores of developing economies competing for a limited number of overseas investors, few ethical corporations will be prepared to play Chiquita's tawdry kind of game. This is likely to cause Honduras to lose precious new flows of foreign exchange.

Fyffes will be leaving Honduras on January 1, 1997, having sold its operation to Dole for $26 million. Starting from scratch in Honduras in 1990, by 1995 it was shipping 7 million boxes of bananas annually to Europe (compared to Chiquita's 11 million boxes). Fyffes management decided to sell because it did not feel comfortable investing additional funds in a country in which its business rival, Chiquita, had such an arched political advantage, and had developed such craft and guile in manipulating the political setting to the disadvantage of its competition. Furthermore, Fyffes scheduled departure can also be attributed to its lack of confidence in the judicial system, or the country's ability to uphold the laws it had enacted.

Chiquita Plays Dirty Washington is currently spending tens of millions of dollars throughout Latin America attempting to reform notoriously corrupt judiciaries, in part to help U.S. investors know whether the ground rules are reliable before they bring in new capital. One of the countries desperately requiring such reform is Honduras, as is amply attested to by the experience of Otto Stalinski. A criminal lawsuit, filed in 1994 by him, alleges that on April 28, 1990, several uniformed and civilian-dressed men armed with automatic weapons, and accompanied by Chiquita attorney Leonel Medrano Irias, who still represents the company, tried to kidnap and probably assassinate the plaintiff, using a trumped-up arrest warrant as a cover for their planned death squad-style operation.

Chiquita officials later insisted that the company had a legitimate court order to arrest Stalinski on the grounds of banana theft, and that those who had come to the Hotel Sula in San Pedro Sula (the country's second largest city), where Stalinski was staying, were bona fide Honduran police who intended to legally detain him. But as a later court finding and a number of reputable sworn depositions have established, Stalinski never had done anything illegal, but was merely carrying out his contractual obligations as Fyffes' resident agent in Honduras, to purchase bananas from an independent and reliable source. An official representative of the city of San Pedro Sula's police confirmed at the time that there never had been a legal arrest order issued for Stalinski and that no one on the force had been authorized to arrest him at his hotel. Presumably, Lindner's thugs had struck again.

There is good reason to believe Stalinski's assertion that if the hotel personnel hadn't forewarned him that armed men were on their way up to his room, and if he hadn't manage a hair-raising escape through the hotel's basement, he would have been brutally assaulted at best, murdered at worst. Two depositions have since been filed by individuals who heard Chiquita agents discussing plans to abduct Stalinski, affirming his allegations that the armed group had been instructed, if need be, to eliminate him.

In October 1993, after the National party lost power to the reform-oriented Liberal party, and President Carlos Roberto Reina had assumed office, Judge Mario Matias Galindo, who originally had issued the doctored detention order against Stalinski on Chiquita's behalf, was charged by the new Government Attorney with fraud and malfeasance, and summarily suspended from the bench. In order to avoid prosecution, Galindo then decided to prepare to flee the country, which he did in early 1994, but not before he allegedly received a new automobile and a significant sum of cash. This information was later provided in a deposition by Jose Amilcar Orellana, who became a Chiquita hireling after the Third Court had taken the banana company's advice and appointed him as the court trustee on Stalinski's case. According to Amilcar Orellana, Galindo had previously complained to him that all of his good work for Chiquita had gone "unrenumerated," a situation that now had changed. The Chiquita case was only one of Galindo's numerous purported instances of misuse of office.

Stalinski's Odyssey In January, 1989, Fyffes Group Limited, a former subsidiary of Chiquita which had been sold off a number of years before, contracted Stalinski to identify independent suppliers of Honduran bananas which could be exported by its local subsidiary, Caribbean Gold. Stalinski secured an agreement with Compa?ia Agricola Ganadera de Sula, S.A. (CAGSSA), a former Chiquita supplier and one of the largest producers of bananas in Honduras, to purchase its crop. Under this new agreement, CAGSSA would receive $4.40 per box (40 pounds) in contrast to the $3.16 it had been getting from Chiquita. In addition, Fyffes offered to renegotiate the agreement annually, which CAGSSA's previous contract with Chiquita also allowed, but which it failed to carry out during the latter half of its term. The banana grower also had insisted that if an arrangement was to continue with Chiquita, it would have to revamp the previous bookkeeping system and a reconciliation of past accounts be undertaken, as well as payment of any of the annual price increases Chiquita had failed to honor.

For decades, Europe's supply of bananas has been controlled by U.S. multinational corporations led by United Fruit and then Chiquita, putting them in a monopoly position. In fact, Dole's and Del Monte's banana operations were created as a result of anti-trust action by the U.S. Department of Justice in order to break up the existing Chiquita monopoly. The charges in the Stalinski case, if upheld, would appear to make Chiquita a prime candidate to be revisited by the Justice Department's Anti-Trust Division, regarding the banana company's prima facie unlawful efforts to destroy its competitor, Fyffes.

For Fyffes and its Honduran subsidiary, Caribbean Gold, it was critical, in order to satisfy its European market share, to obtain its own independent source of supplies, thereby explaining the importance of Stalinski's task. The so-called "banana war" erupted in 1990, when Chiquita, infuriated by CAGSSA's deal with Fyffes, obtained, through the grace of Judge Galindo--who was fast becoming a virtual Chiquita functionary--a fraudulent warrant claiming that the bananas being shipped by Fyffes actually belonged to Chiquita (because of a later-invalidated claim that Chiquita had made against CAGSSA for allegedly having defaulted on mortgage payments to the banana giant). Backed by the spurious documentation and on numerous occasions, accompanied by Judge Galindo and Amilcar Orellana (both of whom were armed), Chiquita management, on a weekly basis, ordered its goon squads to systematically board the vessels that had been contracted from March through June 1990, by Fyffes and destroy or confiscate for its own profit, the bananas on board or at dockside. This cost CAGSSA a total of 300,000 boxes--even after CAGSSA had settled its account with Chiquita by paying it the contrived debt of U.S. $1 million (4 million Lempiras at the 1990 exchange rate).

Chiquita's unrestrained campaign of dirty tricks was aimed at badgering CAGSSA, harassing Stalinski, and dissuading Fyffes from remaining in the Honduran market. Even after Judge Galindo's court order had been vacated, Chiquita continued for almost two months to destroy Fyffes' bananas. Finally, under pressure from the then-European Economic Commission (EEC), then-president Rafael Callejas, who was later accused of defalcating upwards of $50 million dollars (200 million Lempiras) from a special government petroleum account, forced an end to the banana war on June 8, 1990. In a confidential agreement between the government and all parties involved, Chiquita agreed to repay Galindo's tainted U.S. $1 million judgement against CAGSSA. For its part, the government promised to compensate CAGSSA for some of the damage done to the 300,000 boxes of bananas destroyed by Chiquita's squads. Fyffes suffered an estimated $10 million in operational damages, as a result of Chiquita's actions against CAGSSA, for which it received no compensation. A key provision of the pact was that all pending lawsuits and legal claims would be dropped. It should be noted that Stalinski was not invited to the meeting nor was he a party to the agreement.

Chiquita's Wish List What Chiquita most wanted from its broadening largesse to Washington politicians was to achieve the abrogation of the Lome Convention and 1994 Framework Agreement, under which high-cost bananas produced in former French and British colonies had been given a modest 8% to 10% entrance quota to the EU market. After the Clinton administration took up Lindner's cause and petitioned the World Trade Organization (WTO) to order the EU to cancel its privileged treatment of Caribbean exports, CARICOM attempted to present its case to an indifferent Washington. Throughout this debate, the White House and Congress appeared to exhibit a surprising and short-sighted lack of concern for the plight of the Caribbean island nations, which not only could jeopardize the economic survival of some of CARICOM's more vulnerable members, such as Dominica and St. Lucia, but also could produce sizable negative reverberations in the U.S. Ambassador Joseph Edmunds of St. Lucia noted, in a recent interview in COHA's biweekly publication, the "Washington Report on the Hemisphere," that, "Chiquita virtually has declared war on the Caribbean. This is unacceptable." But Washington's pro-Chiquita stand merely may have been a matter of expressing its bipartisan gratitude to Lindner for his generosity.

The Caribbean's tiny, strongly unionized island nations feature fragile economies based on narrow export sectors burdened by high-cost banana cultivation methods and relatively high labor costs. Consequently, they find themselves in a losing battle against cheap "dollar bananas" shipped from Central and South America, where often harsh working and living conditions are the result of low wage levels and the depressed wholesale purchase prices offered by major U.S. banana distributors like Chiquita. For example, for the 1989-1991 period, Chiquita shipped 40 pound boxes of bananas to U.S. and European ports of entry at a F.O.B. cost of $5.00, which eventually sold for at least $13.00 in the U.S. and up to $20.00 in Europe. The current value of these boxes on the U.S. retail market is now closer to $20.00. Conditions back at the production site which allow for such huge profit margins often parallel the sweat shop horrors found in Honduran garment factories that have been featured in the Kathie Lee Gifford-brand controversy. Some foreign observers are quick to note that the Honduran government could find itself as much embarrassed and humiliated by the Chiquita scandal as it was by the flap over its controversial garment manufacturing sector.

The driving force behind the White House's combative trade policy can be easily divined by observing Chiquita's recent activities, since not one pound of bananas or even one U.S. worker is involved in domestic banana cultivation, thus denying the White House any pretext that its stand is in defense of the national interest. The WTO appeal was instigated at Lindner's request. Chiquita officials insisted that the Caribbean quota needed to be ended because it was costing the U.S. company dearly. In fact, Chiquita's stock had skidded from 50 to 12 ? in recent years. In 1994, the corporation had a net loss of roughly $65 million and since then the banana czar zealously has lobbied Washington, maintaining that the EU's special arrangement with the Caribbean exporters grievously had damaged Chiquita in the European market. Interestingly, the company had net losses in the hundreds of millions in the early 90's, several years before the Caribbean-EU Framework agreement was even approved. Even though the EU consequently enlarged the quota for "dollar bananas" to an enormous 70.5% of its entire market, and the Lome agreement favoring Caribbean growers had only a few more years to run, this was not enough to appease Lindner's insatiable greed, but did allow him to contrive a superficial explanation and good "cover" to worried stockholders as to why the company was doing so poorly under his leadership.

Bringing in the Big Guns By the early 1990's, Lindner was not only a major campaign contributor to both U.S. political parties, but to ranking legislative leaders as well, including Senator Dole, Congressman Richard Gephardt (D-MO), and Senator John Glenn (D-OH). Thus, he was able to generate an impressive degree of self-serving political leverage in Washington on both sides of the aisle. In 1994, Lindner was the second largest benefactor of "soft money" to national political campaigns, with $525,000 donated to Democrats and $430,000 to Republicans. He reportedly has given at least as much since. If Lindner's Honduran executives weren't doing a good job in reporting back to him the full scale of his dangerous tactics, he could have read about them in his hometown paper last December, when Jeff Harrington of The Cincinnati Enquirer ran a story on Stalinksi's plight.

Secretary of Commerce Mickey Kantor (formerly the U.S. Trade Representative) and Republican presidential nominee Bob Dole energetically took on Chiquita's cause against the existing EU-CARICOM arrangement. While both deny that Lindner's financial transfusions in any way influenced them, a remarkable convergence of interest seems to have taken place on the banana issue, all in Chiquita's favor, and leading lights in both political parties continue to work toward trying to dismantle CARICOM's quota arrangement. Interestingly enough, neither Dole nor Del Monte--the other two U.S. distributors--have signed on to the WTO complaint, and Honduras did so only after being strong-armed by Chiquita.

CARICOM appealed directly to President Clinton for an equitable solution to the quota question, but the White House has given no indication of wishing to drop the complaint, which will probably be ruled on by the WTO in January. On July 9, two days after CARICOM's Heads of Government meeting had concluded, Washington gave its final assent for the WTO empaneling process to go forward.

As Senate majority leader, Bob Dole had employed a variety of legislative tactics (including repeatedly attaching pro-Chiquita amendments as riders to other bills) in an unsuccessful attempt to punish Costa Rica and Colombia (the top two banana exporters to the U.S. domestic market) for not cooperating with the Chiquita-initiated WTO complaint filed by the U.S., and for signing onto the "Framework Agreement." In return for his indefatigable special interest legislative activity on Chiquita's behalf, Dole had the unrestricted use of Lindner's private jet, which facilitated his travel plans during the presidential primaries prior to the November 1996 elections.

While Lindner's battery of lawyers were arguing that his anti-CARICOM battle was good for America, Marine General John Sheehan, Commander of the U.S. forces in the Atlantic and Caribbean, was expressing a dissenting point of view. Sheehan vigorously vented the belief that U.S. banana policy could have deleterious effects on this country. Drug enforcement officials argue that as much as 40% of the cocaine presently bound for this country (about 200,000 kilograms per year) is shipped through the Caribbean. Sheehan fears that as small, independent and family-centered banana growers in the Eastern Caribbean continue to lose market share and face imminent financial disaster, some might be lured into drug trafficking. Moreover, the area's domestic politics could be increasingly corrupted by the expanding drug cartels, as is now being seen in Antigua, and has been previously experienced throughout Central America, including Panama. Financial hardship, sharpened by a record twenty-year low in banana prices last winter (at a time when the fruit was selling at very high prices in U.S. supermarkets) helped drive at least 4,000 illegal immigrants to the U.S. from these densely populated islands, adding to the already large number of illegal migrants from there already in this country. With nearly 50% of the work force presently involved in the banana industry on islands like St. Lucia and Dominica, and the threat of significant shrinkage from the 60% of their export income now coming from bananas, illegal immigration and drug transshipments are the likely consequences.

Judge Reyes Falsifies Documents Having been the victim of Honduran justice and its behind-the-scenes tableau of payoffs, bribes and tamperings, new acts of chicanery shouldn't have come as a complete surprise to Stalinski. However, the German entrepreneur was almost caught off guard when on October 25,1996, his astonished attorney, Saul Mu?oz Orellana, discovered that Judge Linda Patricia Reyes of the Third Criminal Court of San Pedro Sula, who previously had been a rare model of judicial rectitude in Honduras' otherwise stygian judicial system, apparently had ordered the illegal backdating of vital court documents pertaining to his lawsuit against Chiquita's senior management. Evidently, she couldn't resist Chiquita's golden shine. Yet, she is still sitting on the bench, although reportedly under investigation, while quizzical Honduran Bar members await some form of appropriate administrative action against her highly dubious activities.

Mu?oz Orellana had discovered that the court had found Karl Friedrick Koch, the chief executive of Chiquita's Honduran operations, who along with his colleagues, had been accused by Stalinski in his court case of authorizing somewhat unorthodox business practices--including would-be murder threats that were being initiated against both Stalinski and his lawyer--"exempted and held harmless of all guilt." Stalinski's attorney was astonished when he saw that the dismissal had been backdated and filed by Judge Reyes, who had no standing in this particular aspect of the proceedings. Upon inquiring, Mu?oz Orellana was told by a court secretary that, in fact, it was Reyes who had ordered the totally unwarranted entering of a dismissal against Koch, who was found innocent on October 24, 1996. She had instructed the secretary to backdate the document to September 20, 1996. The scandalous falsification of the date was critical in that, under Honduran law, it would have involuntarily terminated Stalinski's criminal case against the Chiquita official in favor of the fruit giant, since her action would have caused Stalinski's lawyer to have missed the fixed three-day filing period deadline for appealing the ruling, permanently aborting his case. The issue is now under appeal.

Judge Reyes' actions not only seemed irreparable and devastating to Stalinski, but must have been extremely disappointing to the country's legal reformers and those relatively few high-minded members of the Honduran Bar, as well as the even rarer untouched sitting judges, whom already were existing under the heavy cloud darkening the reputation of the country's legal delivery services.

The tragedy involved here was that prior to her major indiscretion, Reyes had appeared to be a bright spot in Honduras' otherwise bleak legal terrain. In fact, as recently as September 1, 1996, at the behest of Stalinski's lawyers, she had called upon the U.S. Embassy to provide information on the status of the visa issued to the now fugitive, ex-Judge Galindo. Observers have explained that the backdating of documents not only demonstrated Chiquita's long reach in Honduran society, but also showed the possible lengths that the banana giant would go in its vendetta against Stalinski and those prepared to testify on his behalf.

The Proconsul's Palace

During the 1980's, no U.S. embassy in Central America had a more unsavory reputation than the one located in Tegucigalpa. This diplomatic outpost had achieved notoriety during the 1980's regional strife, when, in a country of less than four million people at the time, it became one of the most heavily staffed U.S. diplomatic facilities in all of Latin America. Many of its personnel were actually CIA agents acting under diplomatic cover, who were involved in advancing the embassy's major assignment of ensuring that the Honduran government was fully integrated as a staging area and an "unsinkable aircraft carrier" for the Contra war against Nicaragua.

John Negroponte became U.S. ambassador to Honduras somewhat before the Nicaraguan strife was reaching its peak. He came from a rich intelligence background in Vietnam. As Washington's Honduran proconsul, he oversaw the transition of that country's armed forces from being a collection of opera bouffe spear carriers, into lethal killers. In order to facilitate the Contra war, Negroponte added to his well established reputation of being a hard-core careerist willing to do anything, fair or foul, as long as it got the job done and that proper notice was taken of his performance. He presently has been approved as the State Department's Special Coordinator of Post 1999 U.S. Presence in Panama to help oversee the final implementation of the Panama Canal Treaty. There are those who feel that Panamanians have good reason to fear his presence in the country along with the backroom tactics which are his trademark.

During Negroponte's tenure in Honduras, according to various sources, the embassy was aware of, or involved in, the creation of a Honduran military death squad, known as Battalion 316, as well as generating its "plausible deniability" cover which Negroponte repeatedly later used to defend his position. The death squad's mission was to torture and then murder political dissidents and local patriots opposed to the nation's endemic corruption and Honduras' servile role in the Contra campaign. It claimed about 200 victims, including a number of eminent democrats, who were disappeared, tortured and murdered, as was definitively established by a recent series of widely appreciated articles in the Baltimore Sun, co-authored by Gary Cohn and Ginger Thompson. The testimonies and evidence compiled by the Sun reporters prove beyond a doubt that Negroponte was made well aware of revelations of flagrant human-rights abuses on the part of the military, that have since surfaced in Honduras, by local authorities, daily newspaper reports, and resident U.S. officials. Nevertheless, the Honduran section of the annual State Department human-rights reports issued during his years in Honduras, which were prepared under Negroponte's direct supervision, contained outright lies and cover-ups, in their assertions that there were no political prisoners, nor instances of military brutality in that country.

Blatantly contradicting compelling evidence, Negroponte has stated, "At no time during my tenure in Honduras did the Embassy condone or conceal human-rights violations. To the contrary, the Embassy and the State Department cooperated with the government of Honduras to help remedy deficiencies in the Administration of justice under both." It is doubtful that at any confirmation hearing for some future post (unfortunately, his new Panama post doesn't require this), he would dare repeat these words under oath, without the risk of committing perjury. His prevarications can be better understood in light of his unwavering anti-communist passions and his willingness to take unethical shortcuts to service them. Rather than a distinguished senior career foreign service officer worthy of respect, he has proven himself to be one of Washington's major Cold War swords and ideological gloves in shaming and maiming the country of Honduras. Through his activities there while ambassador, he helped convert a remarkably peaceable land (considering its location) into having a typically violent Central American profile. For example, when Effrain Diaz Arrivillaga, a member of the Honduran Congress rebuked Negroponte for not taking a stand against human rights abuses, Negroponte contemptuously reproached him for not taking a strong stand against communists.

It was during this period that U.S. sources provided massive bribes to General Alvarez Martinez, the commander of the Honduran armed forces, flouted AID environmental impact studies in order to construct Contra supply routes through virgin forests, and routinely distributed deceptive information to U.S. journalists in the country. All of these prideless actions were run through Negroponte's embassy, during his watch. A resolution is now circulating in Congress which calls upon the Administration to release all the documents pertaining to the U.S. role in human-rights violations that took place in Honduras during the Contra era. If it is acceded to by the White House, it can be presumed that it could mean very anxious moments for Mr. Negroponte.

Unfortunately, the U.S. embassy's reputation is no more impressive today, particularly the consular section. One former consul, Fernando Sanchez, apparently became so enamored with Chiquita's lifestyle that he left his embassy post several years ago to become a ranking official with the company in the country. When Stalinski provided all of the formidable collection of documents in his possession to the Embassy, establishing the pattern of harassment he was experiencing from Chiquita (including attempted abduction and murder), he was patronizingly dismissed on one occasion by Hugo Llorens, the Embassy's aspiring wag as well as its commercial affairs officer, who asked him what did he expect, it was merely an aspect of healthy "competition."

After the newly installed government attorney, in the then just-inaugurated government of Carlos Reina, announced in 1993 that proceedings would soon begin against Judge Galindo for malfeasance in office (and then proceeded to suspend him), for months the Galindo corruption case was front-page news in the Honduran media. Clearly the Embassy was aware who Galindo was when he applied for a visa. Yet, the Embassy's consular officer apparently decided to interpret the moral turpitude clause affecting visa applications, in Galindo's favor. As court proceedings against Galindo were about to begin in early 1994, Galindo fled the country. Surely the consul could have anticipated this, and asked himself the question, "is this the kind of person we want coming to this country?" Anyone familiar with the consular function is aware of hundreds of instances where far more worthy candidates than Galindo have been turned down for far more frivolous reasons than for being a corrupt judge. Due to the seriousness of the decision, it inevitably had to be made at a higher level, if not in Tegucigalpa, then, back in Washington.

Three years later, in July 1996, when Judge Reyes requested information about Galindo's visa status and his present whereabouts, U.S. consul Gregory Hulka tersely wrote back and provided her with the misinformation that the Embassy had no record on Galindo's visa or status, because visa applications are only retained for a year. However, when interviewed, the Bureau of Consular Affairs in Washington stated that while records of visa refusals are kept for only one year, records of visa issuances are reviewed on a case by case basis and kept for two to five years. Indisputably, Judge Reyes deserved a more complete and accurate communication than the one that she received from Hulka. The information provided by him may have turned out to be somewhat incomplete and inaccurate, but he also unintentionally provided a good explanation why U.S. borders are so porous and out of control, and why the career Foreign Service is so suspect.

Clearly, Galindo should have never been issued a visa, and if he was--given his circumstances--he should have been closely monitored to see whether he honored the conditions of his visa, especially since the U.S. had been leading the crusade against corruption in Latin America. In fact, Galindo is known to be living in the Miami area, and the Embassy's inscrutability--reminiscent of the notorious case of Haitian strongman Emmanuel Constant in Haiti, where for months the State Department refused to acknowledge that it had issued him a visa to travel to the U.S.--can perhaps best be explained by Washington's desire to do the well-connected and well-heeled Carl Lindner, and Chiquita, a good turn by preventing any additional embarrassing disclosures on them.

The Long Road for Honduran Justice: Stalinski's Legal Struggle After narrowly escaping personal and professional catastrophe during the "banana war" which he inadvertently had helped to start, Otto Stalinski sought justice in Honduran courts. Although the attempt against Stalinski's life occurred in 1990, he waited until 1994 to file suit because, only with the advent of the new government and the apparently serious inquiry it had initiated into Galindo's malfeasance in office, did Stalinski feel that now there would be at least an even chance that justice would be served. In 1994, Stalinski started criminal proceedings against several Chiquita Brands International and Tela Railroad executives including, Charles Morgan, Robert F. Kistinger, Richard Anderson and Karl Koch, for a number of alleged crimes, including attempted murder and kidnaping, unlawful entry, coercion, extortion, blackmail and the corruption of public officials.

According to those close to the scene, some of the defendants were more akin to foreign buccaneers intent on piratically plundering a coastline than reputable businessmen prepared to engage in the conduct of professionals. If Texaco, with all of its current problems, decided that the only proper course for it to take against several of its executives responsible for racist remarks, was the modest action of suspending them, Chiquita stockholders might feel that its management should do no less in dealing with the much more serious delinquencies against Stalinski by its Honduran staff. If this doesn't happen the company could risk suffering a further highly damaging blow to its already battered public image.

Stalinski's problems had begun in 1990 when Jose Amilcar Orellana was appointed as the court trustee by the Third Civil Court of San Pedro Sula. As trustee, his role was limited to serving only as a liaison between the Court and CAGSSA, reporting on matters related to keeping an account of the banana shipments or noting any wrongdoing that might arise in relation with Chiquita's dispute with CAGSSA. Amilcar Orellana's powers were very circumscribed and he had no right to press charges without authorization from the Third Civil Court. Nonetheless, under Chiquita's direct tuteledge, (as he later attested), he arbitrarily accused Stalinski of stealing bananas. Based on this, Judge Galindo then had the counterfeit grounds to issue the warrant for Stalinski's arrest, which appeared to legitimize Chiquita's attempt to kidnap him. Meanwhile, Chiquita attorney Leonel Medrano Irias had slipped Amilcar Orellana 28,000 Lempiras in an effort to ensure that the trustee's decisions would reflect the company's interests. Stalinski currently possesses a copy of the check from Chiquita's attorney that was endorsed to Amilcar Orellana for that amount.

After the check had bounced, Orellana crossed lines in the Banana War and gave a photocopy of it to Stalinski, in fear that Chiquita would kill him as a result of his damning knowledge of the banana giant's criminal plot against CAGSSA, Fyffes, and Stalinski. The Chiquita turncoat told Stalinski that the 28,000 Lempiras was only partial payment for several false testimonies he gave on Chiquita's behalf. Stalinski, suspicious that he was being set-up, purposefully recorded two sworn notarized depositions by Amilcar Orellana, one in Guatemala before an eminent barrister, and another in San Pedro Sula, confirming his confession to Stalinski. Amilcar Orellana also swore that Medrano told him that he was going to Chiquita's corporate headquarters in Cincinnati, to ask executives there for an additional payment for him, which he never received. Amilcar Orellana expressed his conviction that Medrano himself pocketed the funds.

These trenchant depositions were later presented to the court after Chiquita "persuaded" Amilcar Orellana to once again switch his line, with him currently maintaining that he had been forced at gunpoint by Stalinski to sign the deposition, something scoffed at by the notaries of both countries who witnessed his depositions. As a result of the formidable and convincing documentation in his possession, it was not difficult for Stalinski to convince the Court, under the direction of Judge Reyes, to hear his allegations of the alleged Chiquita plot against him, and have her instruct Immigration to not permit any of the accused, including Chiquita President Kistinger (reputedly the brains behind the Chiquita campaign), or Charles Morgan, its general attorney, to leave the country.

But Stalinski was hardly out of the legal woods. In March of this year, the notoriously corrupt Honduran Supreme Court, tried to torpedo his case by moving to interpret Stalinski's charges as being of a civil rather than criminal nature, which would have kept any convicted Chiquita executive from having to go to prison. It was only his decision to file a complaint with the OAS Inter-American Commission on Human Rights in Washington, D.C., that kept his case on the Honduran court docket, because the Inter-American Court on Human Rights in San Jose, Costa Rica, already had ruled against the country in another matter, and Honduras' embattled legal establishment felt that the country's judicial process already was experiencing too many punishing blows to its tattered international image.

On July 18, 1996, two of those charged by Stalinski--Richard Anderson and Karl Koch-- voluntarily appeared for questioning before officials at the Third Criminal Court of San Pedro Sula. After several hours of interrogation, Koch was let go while Anderson spent the requisite 6-day period behind bars. The following day, the prestigious San Pedro Sula daily La Prensa, reported that, "following four hours of questioning, the judge decided to release [Koch] for the time being," with Reyes responsible for that decision. Despite clear documentation to the contrary, preposterously enough, Koch proceeded to file a $1.5 million dollar lawsuit against Stalinski for "moral and economic damages" caused during Koch's alleged "six-day stay in prison." At the request of Stalinski's lawyer, Judge Reyes certified that Koch had not been in jail for six days or even six minutes.

The Koch suit, entirely without merit, represented merely another attempt on the part of Lindner's confederates not only to intimidate Stalinski, but to financially destroy him. Nevertheless, it furnished a rare insight into Chiquita's inherent arrogance when it came to its intrinsic contempt for Honduran institutions. In the effort to impede Stalinski's pursuit of justice by subjecting him to the plentitude of extra-legal weapons in its arsenal, Koch's case against the German businessman seemed almost epigrammatic in its embodiment of the company's preferred modus operandi, featuring dirty tricks and underground legal tactics. What is shocking, however, is that Koch never spent a minute in jail, a fact easily attested to and documented by Honduran authorities. Koch's damage claim, which is still being pursued by Chiquita, reflects a long-standing and unfortunate Honduran reality: since the turn of the century, Chiquita personnel, just as was the case with their United Fruit predecessors, operate with near absolute impunity in that country, using their open purse to purchase the kind of tilted playing field the company prefers, whether it is in Tegucigalpa or Washington.

Stalinski's pursuit of justice also has been seriously hampered by the mysterious absence of San Pedro Sula's police records related to the 1990 abduction attempt against him. The reappearance of the "lost" documentation would put an immediate end to the case because it would prove who is telling the truth and who is lying. The records would show whether the police ever received a valid detention order against Stalinski and whether it was the police or Chiquita's own paramilitary force that executed it. If Chiquita really is innocent, then it would be in its interest for the books to reappear. If those books prove that Chiquita was not involved in the attempt to remove Stalinski from the Hotel Sula, the banana company could have its case summarily dismissed. The non-appearance of these vital documents must be considered very revealing. On June 26, 1996, after Judge Reyes failed to obtain the notarized declaration made by the San Pedro Sula police spokesman in April 1990 that the police did not take part in the attempted abduction of Stalinski, she moved to certify that the police records were in fact "missing."

Throughout the prosecution of his case, Stalinski alleged that Chiquita has used unethical and illegal practices in an attempt to have its way over a determined adversary. Previous irregularities include the corruption of former Judge Galindo, the inexplicable disappearance of public records and official police reports requested by Stalinski's attorney, and the attempts by the Supreme Court to convert his criminal case to a civil one. An additional blow that Stalinski has had to endure in his Jobian quest for justice was the double conversion of court trustee and Chiquita soldier Amilcar Orellana, who swore first to the threat to his life, by Chiquita and then by Stalinski, and that he was forced to conspire with Chiquita's private security force and its lawyer Leonel Medrano Irias, to make false statements concerning the former Fyffes banana agent. Judge Reyes' self-indicting behavior, coupled with Koch's blatant perjury, together lend a good deal of credence to Stalinski's accusations against the banana company, as well as raising profound questions about the virtual absence of integrity in the Kafkaesque world of the Honduran justice system.

It is sad to say that in today's Honduras, it is all but impossible to obtain justice unless one is prepared to buy it, and Chiquita apparently long has been willing to do so. For Honduran President Reina, the choice is clear: either he or Chiquita will run the country.

As a postscript to this memorandum, Judge Reyes, under fire for her own suspicious actions in the Stalinski case, found the Chiquita defendants, Richard Anderson and Karl Koch not guilty, which under the intricacies of the Honduran system of justice means that Stalinski can now appeal the verdict to the much more respected three-member appeals court. This is being seen as a victory for the plaintiff because it removes the case from the provenance of the now suspect Judge Reyes.


Compiled by Alexander Mangold, Research Associate at the Washington based Council on Hemispheric Affairs, with the assistance of COHA researcher Ian Halpern. Additional research was provided by Jessica Berman and COHA's Central American specialists.

November, 1996
A COHA Occasional Paper
Volume 1: Number 3
ISSN 1088-5560
$10.50

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