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A New Model of Coexistence in the Lleu Lleu Territory

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For the past two years, a new form of relationship has existed between 13 communities of Lake Lleu Lleu in the commune of Tirúa and Forestal Mininco, the parent company of Mininco. A project proposed by the Mapuche communities that focuses on education, social development, work, restoration of native species, and territorial recovery.
 
Santo Reinao Millahual is a Mapuche leader from the Lorenzo Pilquimán Miquihue community and coordinator of 13 communities in the Lleu Lleu lake territory. In May 2021, on election day, he was driving in his truck accompanied by his nine-year-old daughter after voting when he was ambushed by two vehicles, receiving several shots from high-caliber weapons. In this same territory, he explains, there have been over 20 attacks, ten vehicles stolen, and many homes burned. He has been accused of being a "yanacona" (collaborator) by more radical sectors, to which he responds that these "peñis" (brothers) are worried because there is no room left for their violent actions. "Look at what we have achieved (...) and look at the track record of these peñis (violent actors) who have acted for 20 years and how many hectares they have recovered for the Mapuche. Today, things have changed. Today, we have economic dignity, families are happy, the project is successful, and it will continue to be so as long as we exist and the company keeps providing opportunities to improve this program we have built together. We, the communities, have progressed without giving up our aspirations for territorial recovery."
Brief History of the Communities in Lleu Lleu

"Today, I represent 13 communities in the Lleu Lleu Lake territory, communities that have historically lived here since before the arrival of the Spanish and continue to build our homeland in this part of the territory. On multiple occasions, we have organized to defend and maintain the territory when it has been threatened. We already have a long history of being invaded and reduced.

First, there was the dispossession by the Ebensperguer family in 1904, affecting the communities of the El Canelo estate, which had agricultural productivity. We were pushed to the west of Lleu Lleu Lake, now the Choque estate, which is owned by Forestal Mininco. Back then, 50% of our people who opposed this reduction process were burned in their rukas (traditional homes) and killed. My grandfather told me how his father and brothers were forced out of El Canelo toward where a nephew named Choqún lived, and that’s how the estate got its name, Choque. Few families relocated there: the Reinao, Pilquimán, Llevilao, and Antilao. We were gradually reduced and controlled, marked by years of struggle and agreements.

Another milestone was when the Ebensperguers ceded land to the Eyheramendys, with whom an agreement was reached for a 'mediería' (sharecropping) system where they authorized the Mapuche to farm and provided seeds, wheat, potatoes, and fertilizer. Our generation worked there—my grandfather and father until 1978. They worked like that for a long time... my grandfather was 15 when he started farming this way with the 'gringas' (non-Mapuche landowners), and they never lacked traditional food. They coexisted, and the landowners provided tools, oxen, and cows for milk, transported by barges across the lake to the Choque estate, which we are now reclaiming.
Until 1978, this gentleman’s agreement between the Mapuche and the Eyheramendys, who occupied the land (but did not own it), held. That year, Ponce Lerou arrived, took ownership of these estates, and expelled all Mapuche and non-Mapuche sharecroppers living there. When that way of working ended, I was eight, and my grandfather was nearly 80. He wept in the kitralhue (meeting place), fearing we would starve. For him, it was the second invasion. Because of this, my father and our entire family organized that year in Ad Mapu, and the hard struggles resumed.

In the '80s, Pinochet subdivided the indigenous communities where we lived, and in '84, we had a violent confrontation with the military and carabineros, with peñis shot and tortured. Back then, chueca (traditional sport) games were repressed, speaking Chedungún (Mapuche language) in schools was banned, as were guillatún (ceremonies), machitún (healing rituals), and any act to reclaim our culture as a people. None of it was authorized, and it was very hard to preserve it within our territory.
The struggle continued, and in '86, we used a remaining reserve from the El Canelo estate to reclaim our land in the Choque estate, where forestry companies had already planted. We took possession of the land and clashed continuously with police and military until 1990, when Patricio Aylwin’s new indigenous policy stated that the State’s relationship with indigenous peoples would be through state institutions. Many of our peñis chose to formalize as communities under this law. Some governments signaled support, offering small land purchases, but without further assistance—no roads, electrification, dignified living conditions, tools, or equipment. In the end, these lands are now abandoned, unused due to State neglect, having relocated people far from their communities where no land remains.
From 1990 onward, we kept reclaiming land, entering properties, with peñis detained, prosecuted, and convicted for rural violence and timber theft. The struggle was harsh—estates were burned, destroyed, and Mininco rebuilt as a company. This lasted until 2018 when we, the communities, demanded action from both the police and those close to Mininco."

The Beginnings of Dialogue
"We began demanding meetings with CMPC’s top executives. Before, we only fought with forest rangers or supervisors—small battles. We managed to contact Augusto Robert, Public Affairs Manager in Los Ángeles, and coordinated a first meeting in July 2018. We insisted on having higher-ranking representatives present, or we wouldn’t participate."

First Meeting: "When we arrived, we were served coffee while waiting. We asked who would attend—ready to leave if Augusto Robert wasn’t there—and were told Guillermo Turner (Corporate Affairs Manager) was coming.
We didn’t know him, so it was interesting to sit with him. The meeting was tense; we exchanged strong words. He showed composure, listening with the maturity of a businessman representing a billion-dollar company in Chile—something we valued. He said, 'Let’s keep talking. I can stay. We’ve said our piece; now let’s discuss properly and see what we can do.'

Our goal was always territorial restitution. He suggested agreements for land use, but we disagreed, knowing how the agrarian reform handed land to peasants without legal documentation. The only legal path for us is the Indigenous Law and regulations from the Ministry of Social Development and CONADI. We insisted CONADI and the State must be present to discuss land transfer.

We agreed on a second meeting, with leaders traveling to consult the State on recovery via CONADI. A week later, four peñis met Interior Minister Andrés Chadwick at La Moneda, who told them to wait one or two more years for action."
Second Meeting: "We sat again with Guillermo Turner and Augusto Robert, sharing the State’s response. They offered a 'good neighbor' program to avoid further conflict. We rejected it outright, proposing instead a joint development plan between CMPC and our leaders. We had no drafted proposal but aimed to improve our people’s quality of life and territorial recovery."

Third Meeting: "We built the proposal. They offered jobs for 500 families through their contractors. We refused immediately, promising a counterproposal for the next meeting.
Drafting it was hard—our communities included radicalized factions and others open to dialogue. Leaders believed in understanding with the corporate world, but internal divisions were a challenge.

We held democratic votes on the proposal across 13 communities in 15 days. Skepticism ran high given past experiences.

To communicate it, four leaders per community gathered, removing contentious points and keeping beneficial ones. We prioritized education, social issues, productivity, and labor."

Proposal:

- Labor: Contractors, transporters, and food provision handled by community members, plus producing forestry work clothing and gear.
- Education: Special scholarships of $200,000 per student for university or technical degrees, including postgraduate studies.
- Social: Improving quality of life—CMPC would address State-neglected needs like road access, electrification, and potable water, guided by community input.
- Native tree restoration along the east shore of Lleu Lleu Lake (200 meters inland), with nurseries managed by female heads of households, starting immediately.
- Recovery of the 25,000-hectare Choque Estate.

Fourth Meeting: "We presented the proposal in March 2019, approved by all but one or two dissenters per community. On land recovery, we agreed to a land-use comodatum (loan agreement), deferring legal details."
Progress and Results

"From March to August 2019, we implemented labor and native restoration points swiftly. Scholarships were debated—they offered $80,000, but ours was respected. Salaries started high, with benefits. Last year, we planted 10 hectares of native trees along the shore, grown by community women; 60 more hectares are ready.
Silvicultural work—thinning, pruning, weeding—replaces chemical spraying. Native forest restoration is key. We have 20 nurseries, 70% staffed by women, proving their reliability in forestry work—a pioneering model.

Ongoing talks propose a commercial partnership with CMPC for land use transfer, envisioning a 50- to 100-year project. With mutual respect, we believe it will succeed.

Four years of dignified wages stem from understanding with the company. Willpower makes everything possible—we hope this year brings approval for the partnership framework."
Anything Is Possible
"All underwent company-funded training. For women, adapting to safety gear, paperwork, and pandemic protocols was challenging but mastered.
Our latest survey counts 2,800 people across 13 communities, with 500 families (at least one worker each) employed. Only the elderly lack a program; children attend local schools.

No leader has left the project. With stable jobs, fair wages, and training, who would be dissatisfied?
Violence and Threats
"2019–2020 was brutal. The CAM, Weichan Auca Mapu, and revolutionary movements opposed us, but communities’ decisions override external agendas.

Radical groups still attack—burning homes, warehouses, trucks, shooting at vehicles. But a strong territorial organization resists without violence. We won’t stain our hands with Mapuche blood; that’s this project’s value.

I told Héctor Llaitul: 'Lead in your territory, not Lleu Lleu.' Any Mapuche leader must first develop their own communities—that’s where dignity, strength, and leadership lie."

A New Model

"The communities remain committed. Opponents may stay away out of pride, but they’re welcome anytime. Our goal is to change the Mapuche’s historical living model.

This may become a development model merging economic systems and community aspirations. Others inquire, joining the labor program enthusiastically.

History will mark this agreement as a milestone. Respect, trust, and willingness to understand—despite differences—are key.

In 2019, amid arson attacks, we met CMPC’s chairman, Ruiz Tagle, and Gacitúa, presenting the project honestly. Their commitment has been unwavering. We await the final agreement—25,000 hectares—and a 50-year territorial plan. We’ll never renounce recovery, least of all now."