…the war against the earth and its defenders goes on.
Photo: StarMetro Vancouver
Currently one of the most vital front lines is on Wet’suwet’en First Nation land in “British Columbia,” Canada. Wet’suwet’en defenders stand in the way of a zombie pipeline due to transport toxic liquid natural gas over their land to ocean tankers. The land defenders are under siege by Canada’s national government and its police. This whole abominable project is owned and paid for by the people of Canada, and promoted by the authorities – in our name.
The Wet’suwet’en defenders are putting their lives on the line, for the earth and for all of us. Most of us can’t be there with them. But whoever and wherever we are, we still have other capacities, including our voices. Let’s use them well.
Governments come and go. But life endures, as long as earth, water and air can sustain it.
All of these face escalating assaults by powerful corporations whose twin obsessions, power and profit, are fundamentally, irredeemably anti-life.
People who defend the essentials of life from theft and degradation need and deserve any support the rest of us can offer. On Turtle Island/North America, often it’s indigenous peoples who live on the front lines, and thus are called to lead some of the most intense struggles.
Standing Rock has the highest profile right now, but there are others just as crucial, though less widely known. Some context:
This arrogant statement directly contradicts the Liberal government´s promises to follow Supreme Court rulings and the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which require “free, prior, and informed consent” of Indigenous Nations to any natural resource projects affecting their traditional and treaty territories.
At the behest of its partners in the oil/gas industry, this government is poised to approve, among other dangerous pipelines (see below), the Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain Pipeline to carry toxic crude oil from the Alberta tar sands to the Pacific coast for shipping abroad. It would pass through – invade, really – the territory of the Tsleil-Waututh Nation.
The Minister’s casual dismissal of the government’s legal obligations provoked strong reactions from First Nations, including this one from Kanesatake Grand Chief Serge Simon: “Consent, it’s what we are demanding, and he will never get our consent, not for something like this. What if we gave Canada 20 Standing Rocks? I wonder if his position will change then.”
In late November this issue will be tested at the Supreme Court of Canada, in the case of yet another pipeline, Enbridge’s Line 9. It is due to carry tar sands bitumen and fracked oil to Montreal, crossing more than 120 vital waterways and 830 kilometers of land along the way, including territory of the Chippewas of the Thames First Nation, without their consent. (Neither does the project have consent from millions of Canadians who live along the route, the most densely populated in Canada, but the government blithely ignores this too.)
Since the Supreme Court agrees to hear only a small fraction of the cases submitted to it, clearly it considers this one vital to the people it is meant to serve. So should we all. Given the catastrophic impacts of mining and transporting tar sands and fracked oil, the fate of this case has profound implications for First Nations, for Canadians, and ultimately for all life on this earth.
Details on the case and how to support it are here.
For an eloquent view of why these struggles keep happening, meet Seneca First Nation biologist Henry Lickers, chapter 1 in Bold Scientists. An excerpt is here.
Fracking: aka hydraulic fracturing of the earth’s crust to extract gas and oil. Aka “unconventional gas drilling,” the industry’s preferred PR term. Unconventional — sounds intriguing, even a little adventurous, no?
Image: John Cole
But:
“Not infrequently I wake up in middle of the night in despair. What do I despair about? That we’re going to drill, baby, drill, and we’re going to poke a million more holes in the surface of the earth over the next 10 years, and we’re going to produce as much fossil fuel as we possibly can, and we’re going to accelerate climate change, and my kids will not, cannot be prepared for what that means.”
– Professor Anthony Ingraffea, Cornell University. Follow his life, research, and transition from industry consultant to outspoken critic, here in Bold Scientists. Scroll down to chapter 10, The unsolved problem.
Under siege by mounting evidence of the immense harm they do, the industry and its government enablers now sell fracking as a “benign bridge fuel” to future renewables.
In the US, the scourge of fracking has already invaded far and wide, so people have to fight an uphill battle against huge forces to stop it.
In Ontario, Canada, this is not the case. Not yet. People here still have a chance to block the nightmare before it takes hold. To that end:
Ban fracking in Ontario, a petition now circulating on Change.org. True, legions of petitions come and go on the internet, and many of them have limited impact. On the other hand, silence implies consent. So what are you going to do? The petition is here.
In darkening times, bright sparks of inspired resistance. In this case, to dangerous pipelines that threaten earth, water, air, and life.
In northwestern Canada, people of the Lax Kw’alaams First Nation are resisting not only a proposed liquid natural gas (LNG) pipeline and coastal shipping terminal, plus a voracious transnational corporation and two enabling governments, but also the toxic ideology that drives these entities. At its stone cold heart it has only one premise: there is no person or thing on earth, in the sea or sky that can’t be bought and sold.
Henry Lickers also takes a longer view. He’s a Seneca First Nation biologist at Kawehno:ke, Akwesasne Mohawk Territory, not far from another pipeline that people are fighting in eastern Canada. In writing Bold Scientists, I explored with him the deep gap that separates his point-of-view, in line with the Lax Kw’alaams’, from the powerfully seductive one that drives the surrounding society. He replied, in part:
“Our society is responsibility-based, so that means I’m responsible for taking care of the environment. The outside society is rights-based – this is my land, so I have a right to do what I want with it… So we’re always in this fight with Canada or the US – over here we’re talking about our responsibility to protect the environment, and over there you’re saying it’s your right to do what you want. That’s not a good way to function, especially in relation to the environment. You should be aiming really high to protect your environment. Oh no, you say, that would cost too much, it can’t be done at present, et cetera. Is it any wonder the world is going the way it is?”
For more on Henry Lickers’ life and work, see Bold Scientists, chapter 1, When the river roared. Excerpt here.
Two more responsibility-based initiatives oppose yet another dangerous pipeline, Line 9. It’s a 40-year-old pipeline that’s due to transport high volumes of corrosive tar sands bitumen and volatile fracked shale oil from Sarnia, Ontario to refineries in Québec. Along the way, the pipeline crosses many First Nation territories, municipalities, and waterways that provide drinking water to millions of people in the most densely populated region of Canada.
The Chippewas of the Thames First Nation have launched a landmark challenge to Line 9 at the Supreme Court of Canada. It’s an initiative that could have enormous impact. It’s also a costly proposition to take on wealthy corporations and governments. Support is needed, and welcome here.
Everywhere on this earth we have plundered, blasted, torn, drilled, stripped and otherwise devastated “beautiful, quiet, complicated” landscapes that sustained us for millennia. Add destruction of the other two life support systems, water and air, and we dig our own graves.
North Dakota oil drill pads. Photo: National Parks Conservation Association
One such fragile landscape is the badlands region of North Dakota. Unfortunately it’s also the centre of the decade-long Bakken shale oil boom. In The cradle of conservation, a touching – literally, touching – account in Earth Island Journal, conservation writer Taylor Brorby revisits the state where he grew up, and wonders what might still be recovered here after the boom has died.
As in the northern Alberta tar sands, enormous profits have been extracted here, and incalculable harm done. Now oil prices have plummeted, but still, with lavish government subsidies the plunder goes on. So does resistance on the ground. One way or another, eventually the plunder – or the oil – must come to an end. And as in any disaster, those who remain will recover what they can.
For further insight into the nature, value and recovery of living landscapes, check out Bold Scientists, here. Scroll down to chapter 3, A dialogue with the world.
Image: John Cole
Lax Kw’alaams: Just say no. Photo: The Guardian.
North Dakota oil drill pads. Photo: National Parks Conservation Association
Michael Riordon 