Street posters and art all over the streets of Paris. |
Even George Bush did not ban protest after 9/11. Yet that was the case in Paris, where all protests had been banned as part of a state of emergency, opening a striking set of contrasts between those calling for the world to cope with the climate crisis and those reeling from the terrorist bombings in this city. More and more of us see these dueling crises as part of one glaring threat to shifting global ecology and its spiraling unintended consequences including environmental catastrophes followed by floods, tsunamis of water, migration crises and escalating tensions between people and their natural homes. There is no planet b, note climate activists. While science fiction movies posit we can colonize other planets, most of us would rather stay here and make it work ourselves for our children’s children.
That’s why we came to Paris.
This is the story of some of my
experiences here.
Sitting
in jail a few weeks ago after our civil disobedience action for a new
contract with my union, I was talking about Paris. Another union member noted that several union
labor activists were going and I should hook up with them.
In between emails, Sean Sweeney, Director International Program for Labor, Climate
and Environment, invited me to an event taking place in Paris, called Now is
Not the Time for Small Steps.
“You are on a special guest list
for the tomorrow's night's event with
Jeremy Corbyn and Naomi Klein, at Salle Olympe de Gouges,” declared his email.
Jeremy Corbyn and Naomi Klein, at Salle Olympe de Gouges,” declared his email.
After watching the first week of COP21
from New York media, cheering for activists who fought the state of emergency
decree from the French government prohibiting public assembly, I arrived on
Sunday. The scenes of Paris looked like
Seattle with tear gas and aggressive riot police clashing with those in Paris
asking the world to take notice. There
seem to be a lot of terrorist attacks whenever we plan to get together for big
movement escalating events. Its happened
in September 2001 with the IMF protests planned in DC. And it was happening now. Activists had been
on the streets all week. Others had been
preemptively arrested and held for the duration of the conference.
“The Manifestation is a right,” noted my
host’s amiable son, when I arrived in Paris on Sunday, via Brooklyn by way of
Dublin and finally across Paris to the Marais, looking out at the Pompidou
where my friends were staying.
My neighbors from Brooklyn are hosting
me for the week. After greetings with
the family and getting settled, Greg and I headed out to the Festival of
Alternatives at Marie de Marteuil. Full of images of energy bikes and
organic farming, the festival was terrific.
The first person we ran into was Andrew Boyd, our long time friend from movements past and future in NYC. He was busy talking about the Climate Ribbon, a piece of visual art used to engage audiences about what they might lose as result of climate change. Simple and interactive, hoards of people were drawn to it.
The first person we ran into was Andrew Boyd, our long time friend from movements past and future in NYC. He was busy talking about the Climate Ribbon, a piece of visual art used to engage audiences about what they might lose as result of climate change. Simple and interactive, hoards of people were drawn to it.
I wrote a message about the Brooklyn
Tides ebbing to and from our waterfront.
Greg mentioned our kids and the world,
the home’s we’ve created along the waterfront, which we worry one day might flood.
So Greg and I made our way around the
festival, taking in the images from parties and urban farms, organic wine and
local agriculture seen throughout the festival.
Later that night, we joined old friends,
went out for a late dinner and even stumbled into Reverend Donna Schaper from
Judson Memorial Church, who was busy taking in interfaith events throughout the
city.
“The cops were rough on Saturday,” she
confessed. I hear her preach every other
Sunday, Donna is a wonderful writer. Beneath
a photo from COP21 of the Delacroix painting of
the French Revolution that won the World Wildlife Federation poster contest,
she wrote:
Here
at COP21 there is a youthful spirit, a nearly Minnesota niceness, a palpable
sense of hope. YES WE CAN, SI SE PUEDE is the spirit of every display. Whether
the subject is a green bond for large cities or riding a bicycle so that you
can charge your cell phone or blend your free smoothie, the spirit has that
vibe, that playful spirit of early hope.
Our
skateboarder is ready to ride.
Here
you can see mushrooms growing out of logs injected with coffee grounds.
Beautiful, edible oyster mushrooms. You can buy a nice meal in a glass dish,
which is recycled. You can get a free recyclable cup to drink water out of a
fountain. You can sign a climate ribbon (which had its first prom at Judson
Memorial Church in New York City) and write on the ribbon what you will miss
most when the temperatures rise too far to permit the earth’s amusement. You
can enjoy headsets, which allow you to understand the Iranian who is talking
about how he saved wetlands or the Sudanese woman who went from 28 women in an
agricultural cooperative to 5000.
You
can learn about resilience in one lecture after another. What is resilience?
Here’s what the Equatorial Prize says:
1. Diversity of species, culture and
institutions.
2. Connectivity in Rivers, flyways for birds,
open sourcing markets as great as the old silk roads.
3. Managing feedback loops. What happens next?
Old fertilizer is a negative feedback loop. Compost is a positive one.
4. Complex systems thinking, which knows that
even the rich are just a part of the picture.
5. Nesting governance, decisions made locally and
then nested.
6. Encouraging ongoing learning.
The
resilience of the skateboarders will save us. The world’s leaders may not. Many
of them are too invested in what I call the static quo.
I’m
not going all the way to hope, as the conference has just started. But I am
feeling resilient, which is different from hopeful. It is enjoyment of the
periphery, where we are suspicious of any of the insiders who imagine they are
the human center, which they are not.
Those
inside who know resilience are surely our friends.
Monday night would be for COP21, the day would be for catching up with old friends. We met outside the Rodin Museum on Rue de Varenne. We’d been there the night before and the place was crawling with police and reporters, blocking access to everyone except those who lived on the street.
The prime minister apparently lives
there. And everyone wanted comments
about the drubbing the
socialists took to the Republicans and the far right, the National Front of Le
Penn. We’ve been here before. The
turn toward emergency measures, rejection of immigrants, and intolerance is
nothing new. But this doesn’t mean this
tide is not terrifying. Naomi Klein, who
pointed out that even George Bush and Dick Cheney never attempted to ban
protests, called the election results, “racist.” There are more elections later in the month. So, nothing was conclusive.
Now is Not the Time for Small Steps: Solutions to
the Climate Crisis and the Role of Trade Unions. A Conversation with Naomi
Klein
With UK Labour
Party leader Jeremy Corbyn.
Naomi Klein’s
book This Changes
Everything: Capitalism vs. the Climate urges social
movements to see themselves as agents of social transformation and a
far-reaching democratization of economic life.
This message,
recently reinforced by the documentary film of
the same name (directed by Avi Lewis), is consistent with the stated goals of
many unions.
But how can we
take more leadership both as movement builders and as champions of the kind of
policies demanded by both the scientific and social realities that we presently
confront? And how can we better connect climate change to the rising struggle
against austerity, inequality, wars and militarization?
Earlier in the
day, Sean sent me a note explaining:
The event starts at 6 p.m. but we are asking people to arrive early. We
want union people and close allies to be seated at the front, so it will
make things a *lot easier* if you arrive by 5:30 p.m.
700 people (full capacity) have registered, but another 550 are on a
waiting list. Our team of volunteers will start seating people at 5:15
pm.
Some major media will be there -- and I understand Jeremy will be
expressing support for Just Transition (along with energy democracy and
climate jobs) The BBC, The Guardian, Democracy Now and other media have
indicated they will be there.
And so we arrived. I have always had
an ambivalent relationship with labor, especially after the movement repeatedly
benefits from the efforts of anarchists in Seattle and Occupy, who help the
movement gain traction for a moment, before Union leaders inevitably disavows
the radicals who put wind back in their sails, if even for a moment. The pattern repeats and repeats itself.
“Labor is full of zombies,” noted a
man standing behind me at the talk. “But they are the only real chance, the
real possibility we have for a change in class consciousness. But they are full of fuddy duddies, with no
alternate thinking to Blairism,” he pontificated.
Newly elected British labor leader
Jeremy Corbyn struck a qualitatively different chord, linking labor and
environmental issues in his address to the crowd, outlining the need for a
qualitative expansion of ownership of the means of production of energy, with
renewables and solar. This will create jobs and expand work. Yet, it begins
with rethinking energy policy, with green jobs, expanding a conversation about
what we can and cannot do. “Humankind is capable of amazing things, if we find
solidarity with the earth, connect with each other, and expand our
imagination.”
What will the future look like if
we connect all these pieces? If we
continue at our current pace of increasing temperatures up 7 degrees, we will
certainly be looking at more wars and violence, flooding and hurricanes,
draught and floods. After the disasters,
who helps, asked Corbin - the public sector, labor, social workers, fireman, etc.
The time to cut the public public sector is not now. The room roared in applause.
If we watch climate change, we will
see fights, floods, war, droughts, leaving waves refugees. Lets deal with these issues. Don’t blame the victims. Defend forests which provide carbon
cover. Chico Mendez fought to save
forests and humanity itself. I am
inspired by his story. Lets learn from his fight for humanity. What do we want the world to look like, he
asked, a place with biodiversity and equality.
This is a place with equality, where people can breathe clean air and
drink clean water, a world of peace and security. Governments have a duty to preserve our
common good. More beyond blame to
solutions. Democratize energy ownership. This will create more jobs and opportunities.
So how do we get this world? Through a just transition to work. Inequality is a wrong waist of our
resources. Be inclusive of the working
class. Democratize energy within our
sustainable limits so our kids’ kids have a world to grown up and thrive
in.
He ended with a famous quote by
Arundhati Roy
“Another world is not only
possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
Naomi Klein followed outlining what
is at stake. What is the role of the trade union movement in the climate
movement, she wonders. Without seeing
the final language, she argues the COP21 deal lead us to three of our degree
Celsius rise in temperatures, not less than two degrees that we are hearing
about. We need one point five to survive, not three of four. We are already living in the era of dangerous
warming. We are living it. The deal that will pass will steamroller over red
lines, expanding the threat to the planet.
On December 12, activists will be
on the streets peacefully protesting, challenging the ban on protests. Libertie
means more than football and markets. It
means a diversity of approaches. The right to protest is vital to all wins past
and present. As we join them, we must
say yes to what our world can look like.
It can be more than a life of climate chaos, racism, and austerity. We need to think big, stepping beyond our
crisis of imagination.
We need to imagine a post carbon
economy, she declared referring to the,
“Leap
Manifesto”, a document drafted by
climate activists including herself, calling for Canada to divest from fossil
fuels.
The climate crisis hit in a time of
neoliberal economics. We saw the
implications when hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. After neglect, the levees could not hold,
reflecting the crumbling infrastructure of disinvestment in cities. The storm highlighted a “we cannot” sense of
tolerated incompetence among those in government, more than willing to walk
away from problems as people starve and suffer.
Shock doctrine followed; homes were torn down to make way for new
redevelopment, displacing bodies and families who’d been there for
generations. This is how our system
copes with storms and climate chaos, explained Klein.
Hence the slogan of the movement,
system change, not climate change. We
need public sector workers in place, trained, and ready to deal with problems.
Yet, for them to be there, we need to fight the ill logic of austerity. So when we talk about coping with climate
change, we also have to be countering narratives of austerity, and vice versa. This means fighting the International Monetary
Fund. Its means challenging the incoherent logic of scarcity.
The alternative is renewables. Fight to see the connections, pleads
Klein. Invest in infrastructure. Expand
the non-carbon economy. These are social
workers, nurses. This is
healthcare. This is public sector
workers. This is a healthy workforce. This is a post carbon future. Here, we care for the earth and each
other. Leave it in the ground. Stop the
extraction of oil. Cut corporate welfare.
Transition is inevitable; Justice
is not, Klein acknowledges. We are going
to have to fight for this better world. We need energy justice. The climate movement needs to beat back the
carbon infrastructure. Build a new
economy, instead of protecting the old one.
Try something new. Now is not the
time for small steps. Its time for bold
steps to leap forward.
Everyone in the room, myself
included, gave Klein a rousing applause.
I have always been weary of the rhetoric of “leaps” and
“revolution.” The Chinese
Great Leap Forward of the 1950’s left millions dead. In our eco social transition, I don’t want to
miss a crop cycle.
In this revolution, I hope no one
loses a head.
Several of the speakers on the
panel suggested there could be an easier way out of this dead end, using
language around a just transition, not a great leap forward. Several in attendance pointed to renewed
efforts to fight austerity, support trade labor, and social movements. Clara suggested we push oil out of cultural
institutions. Trade unions need to be a
part of the just transition. The public
sector has to be a part of that just transition. We need government to act. Austerity is a
sham. If the earth was a bank, we would
have saved it by now.
The audience members cheered.
Labor has changed the world and it
has to again, the next speaker insisted. How do we regain that vision, he
wondered. We need to reclaim that vision that labor is about creating a just
better world.
An organizer representing nurses in
New York stood up to talk about the campaign to ban fracking in New York.
Here, nurses went out and educated their workers about the health
impacts of fracking, joining movements, and mobilizing a half a million people
to join the people’s climate march. Afterall, part of the civil society
movement is about expanding solidarity to the earth. This is nature defending itself. Activists followed this reframe all week
long.
During the question and answer session, Klein
and several others on the panel talked about the need for a new kind of
thinking involving movement from expansion to a regeneration point of view.
Moving from monoculture to support for biodiversity has to be an opportunity,
not a threat. And trade unions have to
be a part of this thinking. The fight for a sustainable world has to be an
opening for another way of being.
Is it possible to avoid
catastrophe? It is not easy to know. No one can predict the future. A dialectic of utopian vs dystopian images of
the future pervade conversations here. Many see these as last days for humans; others
imagine a different kind of relationship between humans and the earth.
Korbin, Klein, and company offer a
compelling a counter narrative.
Reflecting on Paris, Reverend Donna Schaper from
Judson Memorial Church, wrote about Klein’s theology:
“Klein listens well to what happened in
Copenhagen. The African nations walked
out en mass. They were chanting, “2% is
mass suicide. We will not die quietly.”
She seems to actually care about the neighbors she doesn’t forget and
doesn’t know. She knows that the
continents are neighbored.
“Beijing’s
smog is California’s drought and people of color are closer to the hole on the
sinking ship.”
Whether she is arguing for municipalizing energy or
rebuilding the story of humanity, she is arguing matters religious and
politically, simultaneously, without mentioning God. What if we keep God in it while leaving God
out of it? Or stick with the second part
of the golden rule and leave the rest out of it? The Golden Rule, by the way, says love God
first and then neighbor as self. I am
going to go to seminary, again, with Naomi Klein
Tuesday –
Fossil Fuel Out of Culture
The days
in Paris are amazing, with late night conversations and stories and discussions. Tuesday, I would head out for prop making
with my friends from Not An Alternative, Liberate Tate, and BP
or Not BP.
So I
walked through the rain to the meeting spot across town, where people were busy
making umbrellas for the big action at the Louvre the next day.
“The
police are putting up barriers every day,” noted Jason.
The
morning was an encounter with generations of protest cultures. There is a nervous energy of collaborating with
new people or people who do not know who you are.
Certain
voices are defensive, some are more open. But we hang out, milling around the
dark meeting space, a hundred of us looking for a way to contribute the best
way we can, but not really knowing how.
Beka and
Chris call for a short meeting around 1:30.
So we all circle up, introduce ourselves and start a conversation about
ways to get fossil fuel money – oil sponsorship – out of cultural institutions. Chris is from BP or Not BP. He describes the way that the gallery at the
Louvre is sponsored by Total, an oil company. Activists from around the world
are in the room. Everyone introduces themselves and we talk about roles people
can take. The scenario is get close the
Pyramid and open umbrellas that say, “Fossil Fuels out of Culture” in front of
the Louvre and have the picture blasted out to the world. It’s a simple action. There are multiple roles we can all take,
including tweeting out photos, scouting, choreography or actually carrying an
umbrella. I want to carry and
umbrella. But for some reason I raise my
hand when they call for someone to go scout at the Louvre to scope out security
and help find the best place for the action.
I immediately regret my decision.
I love the action plan and our message.
The bills we plan to drop in the museum remind: ‘Dear Louvre, When Total
sponsors you, you sponsor Total. Don’t
sponsor climate chaos.’ When oil
sponsors you, you sponsor it.
To pull
off the action, we have to get the right shot.
If we can’t get inside one of the two lines of barricades, we are going
to have to go outside to get the shot.
But we
have to get it.
The police
have been aggressive all week long. So
everyone is nervous.
Roughly speaking, the 17 activists will meet at 9:30 am the next day, take the subway to Tuileries Metro, come in through the garden, not the arch, and meet.
Roughly speaking, the 17 activists will meet at 9:30 am the next day, take the subway to Tuileries Metro, come in through the garden, not the arch, and meet.
The team
includes 21 umbrellas, 8 ushers to clear the space, 2 stage directors and Chris to call for the umbrellas to open up to
reveal our message. But will we get in
to get the pyramid?
One of the
organizers is buzzing.
“Did you
drink a lot of coffee today?” I ask her, after watching her running around the
space to get ready to go for an hour after saying she was ready to go.
“No, I’m
always like this.”
Its
raining. Everyone is excited as a group
of about five of us head out to the
Louvre to check it out.
There is
really no bad shot at the Louvre. But we’d like to get past the first line of
barricades just outside the security check.
There's the promised land we hope to get to. |
Ideally,
everyone will enter around 11 am for the noon action. Yet, there is no
consensus about a plan.
No one
really knows each other that well.
“How well
do you know Jason?” the caffeinated activist asks me. I’m not sure what she is
saying.
Half way
through our scouting session, we get word about an eviction from a local
squat. Several start tweeting out
messages. Its all very high energy.
Finishing
scouting, I go stroll through the epic city, taking in the moody views. Its about 5 PM.
At 7 PM,
I’ll attend a session called, “Oil Out of Culture,” at Les Laboratoires D’Aubervillliers with
several of the activist groups who had been planning the action all
morning. Members of Liberate Tate, BP or
Not BP, and Not an Alternative will be speaking.
Several of
the folks who put on the Disobedient
Objects show that I was part of, including Gavin Grindon, will be
speaking.
Mel Evans
and Gavin described their campaign with Liberate Tate, occupying this museum on
the Thames. Through a series of guerrilla
actions, this group made friends with security guards and turned the grand
entrance into a living theater, for performance and questions about
sponsorship, mission and purpose. On one
occasion, they stayed all night, setting up a compost loo in the museum. On
another, they poured molasses on the floor so it looked like oil, imitating the
PB oil spill. Highlighting the messy relationship between its sponsors and
climate chaos.
Just
exactly, how much money is the Tate getting from big oil, wonders Liberate
Tate. The group has asked for a firm number. Liberate Tate is keenly aware that
oil sponsorship of culture helps add a boost of badly needed good public
relations for companies that have been polluting coastlines from Alaska to the
Gulf Coast.
“If we can
resist this, we can write a new future for ourselves,” noted Mel, the author of
Artwash:
Big Oil in the Arts.
Chris,
from PB or Not BP, followed, describing the campaign to transform the British
Museum into a space for theater,
questions, and actions that compel reactions, including a change in sponsorship
for the museum, these activists hope. Here art is used to re-imagine policy changes,
bridging the divide between the museum’s sponsors and its obligation to the
public. Recalling the financial and
ecological crisis, these activists hope for a different kind of public commons,
in which cultural institutions feel like a truly public spaces for ideas and
conversations.
Beka, from
Not an Alternative, describes her group’s history over the last decade in
Brooklyn. The group has worked with
multiple groups, including Picture the Homeless to highlight the high number of
vacant buildings in juxtaposition to issue of homelessness in New York
City. There are more vacancies than
homeless people the group reminds the world.
Yet the city refuses to accrue an accurate count.
The group
has worked to highlight financing of funders such as the Koch brothers who deny
climate change, working with scientists to urge museums cut ties to climate
deniers. They point out the many ethical
questions which arise from a science museum supported by those who opposed to a
scientific consensus that climate change is real.
Through
their work, each of these groups supports a growing call for cultural
institutions to divest from fossil fuels, while taking these institutions back
from private interests. They see museums as public spaces, challenging efforts
by oil companies to instumentalize museums as private spaces.
Referring
to Douglas Crimp’s writings on the museum’s ruins, I ask the panel what they
see the function of museums to be today.
“Museums
tell us what it means to be human,” notes Beka. From the refugees to floods to
rising tides, museums can and should help us come to grips with what it means
to live in an era of climate change.
Museums
are there to create a space to contemplate collective action. These activists
hope to reclaim museums.
Mel
pointed out that museums are luminal spaces, blurry spaces, open to multiple ways of looking at the world.
“We are
unpacking bundles of history, unraveling
sponsors with ties to colonialism,” note Chris.
So how do we have agency and have an impact. Museums are alive. The Louvre would be the following day. Or so we hoped.
Wednesday – from the Louvre to Notre Dame
It was
rainy when I left in the morning for the big action, making it to the space by
9:30 to meet the other activists. The
center was buzzing with energy. The
movement seemed to be pointing here for this brief moment, with people zipping
in and out, taking calls, making plans.
The plan was to meet under the arch at 11 am and trickle beyond the barricades by 11:30, one or two at a time.
The plan was to meet under the arch at 11 am and trickle beyond the barricades by 11:30, one or two at a time.
After a
few rehearsals, we all made out way to the subway. I rode with my friend Chihiro, filmmaker from
the Netherlands. Police cars were lined
up around the museum. Men holding guns, dressed in riot gear.
Police everywhere. |
No one was
at the Louvre yet. So I walked past the
barricades, past one policeman.
For the
next hour, I’d text the other scouts and photographers who gradually trickled
in. By noon, everyone was at the museum
but the umbrella crew. Photographers
were everywhere. Media were everywhere.
Friends from New York to Germany and Paris were here. But where were the umbrella crew? The security was now lined up by the
barricades, inspecting all bags.
“Yates was
turned away,” noted Mark, a friend from New York. “They saw a divestment flyer
in his bag and sent him away.”
There are
tons of cops at the barricades.
“Where are
the umbrellas?” I ask Sumo, the other scout.
“Its hard
to coordinate with a big group,” he follows.
Greg and
Marc, who has just arrived from Germany walk up.
\
\
“Ben you
terrible,” notes Marc. Its true. I do.
“Gotta go.
I”ll talk to you in a second,” I
explain, adrenaline pouring out my ears.
“I just
got a text from Chris saying lets go with Plan B,” notes Sumo.
“Tell
everyone. Plan B.”
So, I
wander through the crowd telling people.
A policeman with a huge gun walks up to me and I zip away, telling more
people as we zip out of the barricade.
Many of the police follow us.
A group of
angel’s have appeared at the barricades.
Its all getting weird. The crowd
moves to look at them. And I see one of the umbrellas just outside the
barricade.
“Ben, tell
me media. Make sure to tell the media,”
declares Beka.
“I did,”
looking back.
“Hold my
coffee,” Beka follows, handing me her empty coffee cup as she walks ahead..
Huh? I
think to myself, having a flashback to the first time I met Beka back in 2000
or 2001, all the Reclaim the Streets days and struggles, then the RNC stuff and
Occupy.
I stop to
talk with Lisa.
As we get
back to the arch, we hear the crowd cheer.
“Ben, that
was terrible intelligence,” notes Beka. She’s right. Communications broke down as they often do when the world is moving faster than cell phones in time. The scouts were not really needed. I
shrug. So much for scouting. Herding cats.
The whole thing feels like a high school popularity contest. Who is listening, who is calling the shots,
who is collaborating, everyone vying for attention, for control. Everyone wants
everything to be just right. The clash between chaos and choreography can be
both jarring and invigorating, exhilarating and scary in these moments. I recall the IMF World Bank Meeting in 2000 the last time I took such a role,
kids in masks running to and fro, spray painting cars and blocking police, as
we try to stay on our plan for the day. I
eventually give up. Its not always possible
to contain such abundance. ‘You gotta embrace the energy,’ counseled brother
Ron in that moment 15 years ago.
“I guess
we were their diversion,” explains Beka.
“Ben, you
look really terrible,” notes my buddy Marc, pointing out the sweat pouring off
my head. It always good to have friends
around to point out when you are looking purple.
“Take off
your hat.”
So I take
off my hat. The demo worked. Everyone is happy, but me. I hate myself for
volunteering to be a scout.
Wandering
around among friends, I run into Chihiro, who I took the metro with to the
action.
I asked
her about the experience.
She took
pictures which she showed me, pictures she later posted to facebook narrating.
“But before getting to the pyramide their were bag inspections... me carrying the bright painted yellow umbrella had a rush of adrenaline getting through... (some people got picked out because inspectors had found a divestment fossil fuel flyer in bag and found that suspicious enough to send the potential 'terrorist' away)... most people made it through and we could do our action in PLAN A mode” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“and here we are... time for art NOT to get
infiltrated by fossil fuel money that is trying to normalize itself... instead
of being recognized for its crimes against earth and earthlings and put to
trial at ecocide courts” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“the great moment when it gets anounced the
inside action was succesful: people got into the Louvre and spiled oil over the
floor - then using their shoes the walked the oil through the building. When
they got detained they were held for a while by the police outside - but no
serious harm was comitted against any of the "Art-not-Oil' activists ---
YEAH” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“Here the RED LINE was laid out.... and as the
only dirty company present (ENI umbrella) I had to improvise my exit (TOTAL
umbrella didnt make it through police inspection to the scene of action at the
Louvre) ... so at some point during the sing "Total, Eni au revoir - aller
aller aller" I decided to get up ... cross the red line and make my exit
wavind good bye to the crowd popping out my hand from behind the umbrella... while
still hiding my face and the rest of upper body behind the umbrella” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
So after
all that, the action actually worked. The sun is shining and we have a whole day to
go. Everyone is milling around trying to
figure what to do next. Some are going to have a nap or hit the general
assembly later on.
“Theres an
action at Le Bourget!” notes a young woman from Germany.
So the day
of actions would continue from the
Louvre to the Bourget to Notre Dame.
Marc and I wander off to lunch, chatting with Chihiro, who decides to join. We
chat about her movie and talk about striving for something smarter of this world, making new
rebel friends everywhere we go.
On the way out, I
stumble into an elder woman holding her newspaper. I ask if I can take her picture. And we start to chat. She asks where I am from.
Photo by Chihiro
Photo by Chihiro
“The USA,” I explain.
“No, Americans are
all closed minded, all the same, all conformists.” She practically spits, looking at us. But I
hold my ground. We’re smiling and she’s
smiling. I mention a few Americans who
love Paris. Allan Ginsberg, William Boroughs, Nina Simone.
Photo by Chihiro |
Chihiro
t
Chihiro,
referring to her movie and work.
“Indigenous people live with the
environment. This is the opposite of alien species who do not know how to live
with the environment. Rather they are
alienated from it.”
“There are ways out of this clash of cultures” I chime in.
“The city is a space for alienation,”
she follows. “You don’t know where your
food comes from.”
“They are also living breathing
things,” I follow.
“They are living beyond their capacity,”
explains Chihiro. “We have to move
beyond a destructive system, marked by trade.
How can we reverse this?”
“By supporting sustainable cities,” I
chime in.
We talk and walk and make our way to
the Metro.
Chihiro tells me
about her favorite trees, the Palinka in Chiappas.
We talk about the
politics of the movement as we subway over, about funders dropping the calls
for action after the bombings.
“AIDS activists
would take over, disrupting the conference,” I recall, referring to
international AIDS meetings.
“The lack of
infrastructure for these demos is a mess,” explains Chihiro. “There is another
dynamic, she explains. Kids growing up
and separating and letting go of childhood and being destructive, sometimes
undermining these efforts.”
“But there is a
creative dynamic in the destruction,” I chime in. Still I agree with her about the generational
oedipal struggle she describes.
“We wanted to join in ...” notes Chihiro, on
facebook. “and so actually made an effort to travel down to the place of nauseating
perverse climate politics. The COP21 where money gets saved and land and locals
are sacrificed.”
"Of course to keep us from performing any of our great ideas there is blue team presence everywhere... even if you make it into to civil society climate space (metal detector and bag check security)... long live free trade enslaving the rest to not speak out against it enslaving the rest of of us to existential crash." Photo and caption by Chihiro.
|
“The whole civil society space at COP21 is
nautiatingly designed for greenwashing... behold the celebrating of technology
taking natures place... we dont need trees... we celebrate the beauty and magic
of the plant kingdom by mimicry of visual design and superimpose our
machines... YEAH : ( sarcasm.” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“Getting some new ideas for appropriate popup
actions: How about doing a flashmob of people throwing up... (your politics and
greenwashing make me sick) ... would be the message and the pictures would
definitely have.” The gross factor"
Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“This is our attempt to make the cheesiest
picture of the day - I think we succeeded. Also we came up with another idea
for an action: Doing a SHIT-IN...”
You know you enter the building, get to a plenary.... do a flasmob of people standing on the tables, taking their pants down and start shitting.
The message? "Your politics is crap" Photo and caption by Chihiro.
You know you enter the building, get to a plenary.... do a flasmob of people standing on the tables, taking their pants down and start shitting.
The message? "Your politics is crap" Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“Walking past lots of
stands and talks at civil society space this panel talke dof interesting
matters: The lack of gender equality in delegations (still very men-dominated
game this raping the planet affair) and the need for 1,5 degree max climate
change... instead of policy that allows for 2 degrees...” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“You can see how much audience there is for these matters... and how well the panel is positioned (without proper lighting or anything) they are practically in the dark
“Well enough of this Bourget... we didn’t find any action so lets get back to the city to the zone of action.” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“You can see how much audience there is for these matters... and how well the panel is positioned (without proper lighting or anything) they are practically in the dark
“Well enough of this Bourget... we didn’t find any action so lets get back to the city to the zone of action.” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
After Le Bourget, we
were going to go to the General Assembly at the Zone D’Action Climat, the ZAC.
But Chihiro has heard about a flash mob
at Notre Dame. So we zip over there,
meeting activists in holiday garb in from of the horse in front. Activists plan to stage a sing out about the
extension of a new airport.
“What I call 'an
unfortunate picture' depicting me and my new friend arriving on the scene of
the JEDI XMAS action... he himself depicts as "A picture that captures my
essence" ... ah well... in anycase... its advancing the story of the day:
arriving on the Notredame scene for a singing flashmob.” Photo and caption by Chihiro.
“Funny &
energizing.... Nathalie kickstarts our singing-mob action. Starting
with Art not oil action at the Louvre (against toxic industry normalizing their
harm through appearing artisitic) and ending at the notredame with the JEDI
group singing xmas songs against the airport expansion NDDL - a local French
struggle...popup actions are the things are done here now that the state of
political emergency is repressing all forms of collective action questioning
politics as usual: a practice of sacrificing land and locals for money and
power... by using violence and oppression.” Photo and caption by Chihiro
Geuzebroek
“Nathalie from the
JEDI action group is giving a speech: what songs we will sing, the context of
the Hollandes plans to commit the crime of airport expansion at time of Climate
State of emergency... and showing international solidarity for a local sruggle
(with courtcase actually taking place today D10).” Photo and caption by Chihiro Geuzebroek
While certainly
protest themed, the vibe at Notre Dame is strikingly warm and holiday like.
After the singout,
we read poems and strolled to the ZAC to meet more friends, where we read poems
and talked about the world.
“Don’t emphasize
hope,” cautions Chihiro. “It precludes action.”
That’s my point, out of this clash between hope and
despair, utopia and apocalypse, there has to a creative solution.
That’s action, notes Chihiro.
Climate change is a symptom of a larger problem about a system that extracts
resources without putting anything back, a system that colonizes people and
land. And we are feeling these crises
right now in the climate, which seems to be pushing back. But out of these
crises and changes, new spaces are opening for alternate solutions.
We are nature defending herself, chant climate
activists all week long.
When we think of Marx, we often recall his musings
about a post capitalist future. Most
attention has been on predictions about communism as a resolution to the crises
of capitalism. Out of the crisis of capital, we think of the calamities of Mao
and Stalin, as well as economic crises in 1929 and 2008. But Marx also speculated that Barbarism could emerge from
capitalism. From this vantage point, it
does not look like he’s wrong. But what
of that ecosocial transition? It seems
to be on everyone’s mind. But what is it
going to be : barbarism or a just transition, a great leap forward or a human
scale shift, apocalypse or something brighter?
I read Laurence
Ferlinghetti’s “I am waiting….”
We are all waiting
and pushing, wading through history’s murky waters. That’s why we are here. From the Louvre to Notre Dame to Le Bourget to the ZAC, this twelve
hour conversation has brought me through the klusterfuck of the feelings,
between the cops at the Louvre, the singers at Notre Dame, the crap at the
trade show Le Bourget!, and the abundant narratives of the ZAP, the stories all
connecting to each other. It is time to
go back.
Back at home, I
tweet out a message from 350.org
We
Don't Have Another Lifetime To Wait
The draft text circulating now
in Paris proposes a global energy transition 'over the course of the century',
which is too far-off, and too vague to send a strong signal. We need to transition off
fossil fuels by 2050 -- at the very latest.
Communities on the front lines
of climate change have been fighting -- and winning the fight -- for setting a
very ambitious global goal of limiting warming to 1.5C. Delaying the transition
to renewable energy until the end of the century would be a death-knell for
that goal, and for millions of people facing rising seas, deepening drought and
super storms.
No more
empty promises. Tell negotiators in Paris to set a long term goal for a just
transition by 2050 at the latest, and pledge to keep upping their ambition
every 5 years.
Marc and I were in top spirits when
we woke up. We’d been up chatting till 4
am. The next morning we’d zip out some
of the art spaces to make banners. But
first we strolled by Republique, where the people of France have constructed a
makeshift do it yourself memorial for the dead killed during the terrorist
attacks. Greg and I had gone out earlier
in the week to Bataclan. It is striking
how open these spaces are even after the state of emergency. Almost immediately the city of New York took
down the peace memorial at Union Square Park after 9/11. With national political ambitions compelling him
to tie our loss into a call for vengeance, Mayor Giuliani quickly put an end to
the peace vigil there. The same cannot
be said of Paris, where sign after sign call for peace, love and
understanding. There are certainly calls
for vengeance in the air, as the election on Sunday pointed out. But the
memorials feel open. Here are a few.
Those in the climate movement are
quick to point out that the violence of this war, with refugees and people
fighting over resources, prefigure things to come, if the floods and droughts
continue.
After the sadness of the trip to
Republique and the boldness of the images of kissing bodies, paint, color,
passion, and compassion, it was hard not to feel a tragicomic pulse in the
energy of these resilient streets. Paint
and graffiti everywhere, with ideas filling the streets.
Marc found a friend from London who
needed help decorating his bike for a tour to illuminate projections about the movement all over the
city.
A hundred people were in the room,
with banners and paint, cardboard and art supplies everywhere. And there at the corner, looking at a banner
was the familiar image of David Solnit.
I’d seen him every night the year before as we prepared for the People’s
Climate March in New York City.
He smiled and gave me a hug when I
greeted him, providing a welcoming orientation to the prop making session,
showing me banner materials, suggesting slogans, paints, and brushes. Movements thrive when they open space for us
all to participate in which ever fashion we can.
And eventually start on our own
banners.
Looking at the slogans, I ask Nick
what he thinks. The author of the People’s Art History of the United
States, he suggests, “I Fart in Thy General Direction” in homage to the old
Monty Python gag of the French telling off King Arthur.
That’s just what we were talking
about last night, recall Chihiro’s message to the
cop: "Your politics is crap"
We decide to go with
“Ligne Rouge, Justice Climatique/ Red
Lines, Climate Justice.”
This is the slogan of
the movement. We are drawing a red line,
which you cannot, cross, the world cannot cross. This is a red line. From Greenwashing to Red
Lines of emergency.
Marc and I start outlining. Marc does a lovely job outlining, the
English. I start painting it in on the
top. Then he starts with a pen on the French, forgetting that Climatique has
three more letters, which he leaves a couple inches for.
“Ben, I made the
classic mistake,” he confesses. “Don’t tell Dave.”
I run to get Nick and
show him and then Dave, to show him.
Dave smiles,
acknowledges the error, and suggests I point out something positive about
Marc’s work now.
“I love your bubble
letters,” I point out. Like a good den mother, Dave smiles, laughing.
And Nick seriously suggests, we
follow up:
“COP21: I Fart in Your General
Direction” as a protest sign.
There are hundreds of protest signs
here. So we follow his call.
Photos, top the big banner for Saturday. Bottom, Marc Herbst painting our iconic banner. Photos by Nicolas Lambert |
Its getting close to seven, so I
walk to get a soup in the kitchen,
snapping a shot of some of the organizers and banners. On my way back, a man
comes up to ask that I delete the photo, which I do.
“The security vibe changed in
here,” Marc notes, counseling me on the things I could have said.
“’You don’t even know how radical I
am,’ you should have said that” note Marc.
“Or maybe, ‘I can but I already sent in the photo.’”
Sigh.
Between crusty punks and Nick’s
commentary, we work for hours.
“I don’t think you should have done
the red outside the white,” notes a Frenchman standing by me, talking with
Marc.
“No need for kabbitzing,” I retort,
feeling slap happy.
“I do not understand that English.”
“Its Yiddish.”
“That’s not what that means,” Marc
retorts.
We finish our beautiful sign, go to
one more meeting stating we have to go to another meeting tomorrow at 1 at the
ZAC to find out about D12. Drama and suspense is everywhere.
Big
plans on the streets of Paris. Too many meetings to attend. Naomi Klein spoke
to a huge crew at the ZAC as we were painting.
The energy in the space is amazing.
The energy in the space is amazing.
Everyone
seems to agree that the politics coming out of the trade show at the Le
Bourget are crap. Earlier in the day, the demonstration we were looking for the
day before actually happened. A group of some six hundred activists got inside
Le Bourget zapping the meeting and reminding the delegates of our red line,
that we need more than platitudes or an empty declaration
of victory from the leaders. The
temperature has only risen .86 c and people are already dying. It can’t go any
higher, activists declare, disrupting the meeting, drawing a red line through
the proceedings.
But what about D12? You’ll find out tomorrow, they tell us in the
meeting at the end of the day.
Friday - Final Meeting
and a Friend from New York
I slept in, barely making it on
time to the bit One PM meeting at the ZAC. On the way out the door, I get a
message from 350 with the big plan.
But its still good to be at the big
meeting. There are literally thousands
of people in the room, with people standing speaking into mikes on the stage.
This is what it must have been like the night before ACT UP’s stop the church
action in 1989, I was thinking. I’ve
only heard of meetings this big. Humongous banners hang from the ceiling.
The red line action will take place
just below the Eiffel Tower on the Ave Des Grand Armee, with a moment of
silence for victims of climate, war, and the war on the poor.
I start to walk around the side, stumbling
into my old buddy Bill Talen, aka Rev Billy, standing with Chris from BP not
BP, who have collaborated together on one of the British Museum BP zaps.
The facilitator asks us to talk
about what we hope will happen tomorrow, what we are worried about. We each
want to create an abundant image of something beautiful, extending out of the
conversations we’ve had all week.
As Billy wrote:
“In Paris, we feel the sea-change that is taking place
within the souls of the activists. It is dawning on us that a revolution must
take place. For the centuries that the CO2 has been rising, a middle class has
been building in the imperial industrial countries. We consumers have been
taught to look the other way when it comes to the violence of our businesses
that our nation states press on people around the world. Now finally with
climate change we can no longer do this. The other end of this colonialism,
sweatshop economies and military occupation is coming back to haunt us. Why
would our governments believe that we would offer serious opposition? We never
have, but we will now. -----Below
a conversation with old friend Ben Shepard at the Zone Action Climate meet.”
Billy will be at the Pantheon the
next morning at 9. I’ll see him there.
“They are banning protest, but the
real threat is global warming,” notes one of the facilitators.
“Standing below the Arch de
Triumph, this symbol of colonialism, we will recall those lost to climate
change war and the war on the poor. When you hear the thirty fog horns
tomorrow, we will have a moment of silence.
And then we erupt! Paris is the
dance, not the end. May 2016, we shut
down the fossil fuel infrastructure. Its
us with our disobedient bodies that are going to do the work that they have
failed to do in Le
Bourget and over the last 21 years. And we are going to reappear.
We’ll draw
our red line in the sand.
At the
palace of the republique, massive and resolute, we’ll erect a kissing wall.
Make love
not war, I chime in with Reverend Billy. It sounds so hokey, but in a world
with too much repression its more necessary than ever.
Paris is
not the end, notes my hero John Jordan,
explaining the scenario, looking out at everyone.
Remember, “Resistance is the key to
joy,” he concludes, chiming back into the joy of protest narrative which first
drew me to Reclaim the Streets, ACT UP, and DIY politics.
The message from 350.org states:
The plan:
As the Paris Climate Summit
ends, thousands of people will be back in the streets to have the final word
and show that we’re taking our future into our own hands, setting the stage for
more action in 2016.
On December 12, starting at
around 11:45 AM, we will be meeting on the pavements along the Avenue de la
Grande Armée between Place de Etoile and Porte Maillot. (Note: please don’t gather AT the Arc de
Triomphe — you will be separated from everyone else.) Follow the greeters with
red arrows along the avenue to find the event.
At Noon, after a loud signal
given by foghorn, we will converge into the Avenue de la Grande Armée. Follow the red umbrellas and arrows that
will guide you. In the street, we will hand out thousands of red tulips, unfold
our enormous banners, and spread out into a long ‘red line’.
At the second sound of fog
horns, we will take a 2 minute moment of silence, which will end with the sound
of brass bands, and we will lay our flowers along the centre of the Avenue as
our memorial to the victims of climate change.
We have kept the location
secret until now in order to make sure we could mobilise successfully. With all
the details now worked out, and 24 hours to go, it’s time to get the word out
that this is going to be big, and it’s going to be beautiful.
There is still key information
we want to be able to distribute to everyone coming to the action. Please sign up
for SMS updates, or text JOIN to +33 6 44 63 07 76. We also have final D12 in-person briefings in English and French today at
1pm and 3pm.
Here are the final details:
What: D12
Mobilisation to draw Red Lines for Climate Justice
When: Noon, December 12http://www.sunypress.edu/p-5152-the-beach-beneath-the-streets.aspx
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