The Dark Side of Spain’s Strawberry Fields

On July 1, Reuters reported that thousands of Moroccan women were brought over to Spain’s southern Huelva province as essential workers to harvest strawberries in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic. These women were housed in “abysmal conditions and without basic hygiene,” according to Olivier De Schutter, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights. De Schutter told Reuters that the migrant workers are housed in overcrowded settlements with “poor access to water and sanitation … no ventilation of work spaces ... absence of cleaning of any surfaces or objects.” CNN reported that more than 7,000 Moroccan workers are now stranded in Huelva province after Morocco closed its borders in order to stem the spread of COVID-19. The workers, desperate to get home to their families, have no money and nowhere to go.

The exploitation of Moroccan migrant workers—women in particular—in Spain is not new, but during the middle of a global pandemic the disregard for the migrant workers’ lives is made more apparent.

For years, Moroccan women have reported that they have been sexually assaulted and harassed, abused, forced to work in unsafe conditions, and not been paid their full wages. Many of these reports come from workers on the strawberry farms.

Spain is the largest exporter of strawberries in the European Union. The fruit is so vital to Spain’s economy that it is sometimes called “red gold.” The strawberry farms in Huelva produce 97% of the summer fruit. “The delicate fruits - which sell for around 3 euros per kilogram in Spanish supermarkets - are harvested by the hands of thousands of migrant workers, including between 14,000 and 19,000 temporary laborers from Morocco. During harvest, workers often live in crowded huts on the farm and rarely get a glimpse of life beyond the strawberry fields,” according to Middle East Eye.

In 2001, Spain and Morocco signed a labor agreement granting Moroccan women temporary visas to harvest fruit in Spain under specific conditions: the women had to be poor and they had to be mothers. These requirements ensure that the women are desperate for work and will not stay in Spain as they have a family they have to get back to in Morocco.  

In July 2019, The New York Times reported on the exploitation of Moroccan women on Spanish strawberry farms. 10 women who worked on the Donana 1998 d’Almonte farm filed lawsuits that included “accusations of sexual harassment and assault, rape, human trafficking and several labor violations.” The women had been promised high wages, training and accommodations with a kitchen and washing machine with four women per room. Instead, the women lived in dusty, overcrowded rooms with windows covered in cardboard. “I felt like a slave. Like an animal. They brought us to exploit us and then to send us back. I wish I drowned in the sea and died before arriving in Spain,” one woman told The New York Times.

Workers’ unions and human rights groups like Women’s Link Worldwide are advocating on behalf of the Moroccan women. On June 3, Women’s Link and seven other organizations sent an urgent report to the U.N. warning of the risk COVID-19 poses for the Moroccan women and other seasonal migrant workers on the strawberry farms. They have asked the U.N. “to issue a joint statement to the competent authorities of Spain and Morocco and the businesses involved demanding protection for the health and rights of migrant workers in Huelva.” Women’s Link further specified that the protections should be long term and not last only for the duration of the coronavirus pandemic.

In 2019, Women’s Link represented four women who had been hired to work in Huelva in 2018. The four women were told they would have continuous employment for three months and a trial period of 15 days, with housing provided at no extra cost. When the women arrived in Spain, they discovered the conditions were not what they had been promised. In addition to having an unpaid trial period that would last an entire month, the women were expected to work longer hours for less pay, and the cost of accommodation would be deducted from their wages. According to Women’s Link, the four women also “reported the sexual harassment they suffered at the hands of the field manager.”

The field manager in question is currently under investigation and is awaiting trial by a court in the town of Moguer.

Asiya Haouchine

is an Algerian-American writer who graduated from the University of Connecticut in May 2016, earning a BA in journalism and English. She was an editorial intern and contributing writer for Warscapes magazine and the online/blog editor for Long River Review. She is currently studying for her Master’s in Library and Information Science. @AsiyaHaou

Asiya Haouchine

Slavery and Torture Bait Fishermen in the Pacific

Tuna is a $22 billion industry across the Pacific Ocean, where over 60% of the world’s supply originates. That much is known. Look much farther, though, and the subject becomes quite murky.

Try finding out about the treatment of workers aboard fishing vessels, as the corporate watchdog Business & Human Rights Resource Centre did at the end of 2018. Unsurprisingly, companies were tight lipped in their responses. Out of 35 canned tuna companies and supermarkets surveyed, only four reported following due diligence procedures to prevent modern slavery in their supply chains. 20 companies, including tuna giant StarKist, refused to even respond.

There are strong reasons for the tuna companies’ silence; slavery runs rampant throughout the industry. Incredibly low oversight has allowed for the rise of third-party recruitment agencies, who often find willing employees in less developed nations. These workers, desperate for money, pay thousands of dollars to brokers who connect them with fishing vessels – for a price.

The price is high. When workers cannot pay their allotted amount, recruiters cover the costs by removing the loaned money from future wages. What fishermen are not told is that their wages are often as low as 70 cents an hour, if they are paid at all.

A close-up of a yellowfin tuna caught in waters off the coast of Fiji. Arnie Papp. CC BY 2.0

The story of Supriyanto, an Indonesian fisherman, shines a painful light on the system’s injustices: a recruitment company offered him a contract for $350 per month. He found out on the job, though, that $200 per month would be withheld in fees to keep him from running away. In the end, Supriyanto ended up with little over $100 per month to offer his recruiter, to whom he owed thousands. He had no chance of escape, much less with any money to spare. Supriyanto died four months after starting work on the vessel, a victim of debt bondage.

This experience is far from uncommon. Those who escape Pacific fishing boats usually tell similar tales of debt servitude. Yet somehow, the horrors run far deeper than this. While enslavement traps the workers, torture and abuse truly break their spirits.

In 2011, 32 Indonesian fishermen escaped from the South Korean-flagged Oyang 75 while it docked in New Zealand. They told horrifying tales of being physically and sexually assaulted repeatedly by Korean officers, who would chase them as they returned from the showers. Punishments on board included being fed rotten fish bait and being locked inside of refrigerators. On good days, fishermen worked for 20 hours straight. On bad days, up to 48.

Honolulu Harbor in Hawaii is a common port of call for ships that practice slavery, as U.S. officials often look past it. Prayitno. CC BY 2.0

Nearly every country across the Pacific has turned a blind eye to the slavery on tuna boats, including the United States. Take, for example, the case of Sorihin. He paid $6,000 to a broker who connected him with the Sea Queen II, a tuna vessel that trawled the waters between American Samoa, Hawaii and California. Despite nearly losing a finger while wrestling a shark, he was denied medical attention. Safety gear aboard the ship was only offered for a price – as was escape. He finally ran away while the boat was docked in San Francisco after realizing he would never be able to fully pay back his debt to recruiters. Also, Sorihin mentioned, “If I stayed on that boat I was going to die.”

The United States has codified laws that effectively protect human traffickers and slaveholders who ply the Pacific. Tuna boats are permitted to dock at U.S. ports such as Honolulu and San Francisco if the foreign workers remain on board the vessel. Since the fishermen are denied U.S. visas, no on-board inspections are performed and the workers’ conditions rest outside of the U.S.’s responsibility. So, the inhumane treatment of workers is tolerated while the Coast Guard looks the other way.

Similar examples of forced labor, slavery, human trafficking and child labor can be found throughout the Pacific, from New Zealand and Taiwan to Fiji and Thailand. Solutions can only come through greater clarity and stronger efforts on the part of tuna producers. Unfortunately, workers’ voices continue to be silenced by powerful vessel owners, lackadaisical companies and complicit authorities. Organizations such as Human Rights at Sea, Amnesty International and Anti-Slavery International are working to bring awareness to the mistreatment of the region’s fishermen. As the public learns more about the issue, there is hope that slavery in the Pacific may end once and for all.

Stephen Kenney

is a Journalism and Political Science double major at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He enjoys sharing his passion for geography with others by writing compelling stories from across the globe. In his free time, Stephen enjoys reading, long-distance running and rooting for the Tar Heels.