You clamour aboard an old school bus which is literally packed to the ceiling with bags and crates of supplies for the blockade. The passengers embarking with you are a vibrant mix of activists who possess the courage, imagination, and optimism to envision a different outcome for the future of humanity. Conversation is lively as the bus stammers along, twisting and turning down the long, dusty road towards the camp. Everyone is half-yelling in order to be heard over the rumble of the ancient diesel engine.
“Isn’t it ironic that we’re fuelling this gas guzzling dinosaur to go out to an anti-fossil fuel blockade?” you shout.
“I’m not sure I agree with that criticism,” belts out the person seated across the aisle from you named Raven.
“But it demonstrates our dependence on fossil fuels.”
“We are forced to use fossil fuels because we live in a society where there is no option,” Raven shouts, pulling back their jet black hair from covering their eyes.
“There are plenty of other options. Fuel cells, electric motors, alternative energies.”
“Yes, but when was the last time you saw a fuel cell school bus for sale?” They ask, slipping a do rag over their head. “We don’t have those options because they’re not preferable to those who have the most influence over society.”
“Who else has greater influence over consumption patterns than we in the first world?”
“Fossil fuels are the world’s leading energy source because they meet one criteria necessary for the most powerful people on earth to remain powerful: they’re cheap. It is cheap energy that enables the global capitalist system. The ability to move resources and manufactured products around the world inexpensively is a necessary condition for multinational corporations to take advantage of third world labour and resources. So as long as there is inequality in society, we are unlikely to have a responsible energy policy. In a sense the struggle for energy reform is also a struggle for more democracy in the economy.”
“We are the ones who benefit from global capitalism. That privilege gives us more control over the products we consume than anyone else on earth. It is our conspicuous consumption is that drives the exploitation of the third world, and it’s our responsibility to consume more ethically,” you argue.
“Personal lifestyle choices have very little influence over our global resource consumption, the problem is systemic. Unless there is a societal shift away from oil, your individual choice does not greatly effect humanities contribution to climate change.”
“We need to challenge our comfort and privilege. That sounds like an excuse to continue to benefit from the global capitalist system, while refusing to take responsibility for your own role within it. It’s hypocrisy.”
“I see you have assimilated the rhetoric of class privilege quite well, but you would be naive to believe that your choice to stop buying gas will hinder in any way those who profit from the exploitation of the earth and its peoples. If we are to confront an oppressive system we need to use all of the resources we have available to us. They are certainly going to use all of their power and financial resources against us, and that’s not going to change whether we choose to burn gas or not. To choose not to would be to put ourselves at an even greater disadvantage than we already have.”
“True as that may be. It’s important to keep our sense of entitlement in check. I would hate to think that we are immune to criticism because we are part of an anti-capitalist struggle.”
“That’s why we’re having this conversation. Look at it this way. If all the food was grown by slaves, and there were people protesting slave labour, it wouldn’t be a fair criticism to say that they couldn’t protest slavery while the food they ate was grown by slaves because if slavery were abolished it wouldn’t be. Until then, there is no other food.”
“But the food we eat is still essentially grown by slaves. The people who labour in the agricultural sector are among the lowest paid workers in the world. If someone barely has enough money to feed their family and returns to the fields again empty handed, what are they if not a slave? We’ve removed the shackles of slavery only to have them replaced with the bondage of poverty.”
“Good point, capitalism is highly problematic. I propose that we, the working class, seize the means of production and liberate the proletariat from their bondage.”
The two of you share a laugh and you return to gazing out the window as the bus continues down the bumpy road towards the camp. The conversation causes you to reflect on the dual meaning of the word power. We use the word power to describe the energy we use to heat our homes, fuel our vehicles and operate our electronic devices. But the word also refers to political power, the power of the police, the power of the state etcetera. It strikes you how the two are intertwined. Control over the energy that society uses is often key to the creation and maintenance of political power. People are prone to exploit political power in much the same way we exploit the power we derive from fossil fuels. We use our power to get what we want and we begin to feel entitled to it, take it for granted. In a sense using fossil fuels is a little bit like using slaves: we get all the benefits while the earth does all the work. But to think that we can enslave the earth when the earth is so much bigger than us, so much more powerful? You come out of your thoughts when the bus comes to a stop and you realize you’ve reached the camp, the doors fold open and empty out a tangled mess of cramped, sweaty passengers, grateful for a breath of fresh air.
The camp quickly transforms into a hub of activity as supplies are unloaded and stowed away. Everybody works together with a spirit of camaraderie that comes when people come together for a single purpose. That night the elders from the blockade welcome everyone with a great feast of deer stew and fresh fry bread. Before you sit down for supper everyone gathers in a circle where prayers are made and you all give thanks in turn for something you are grateful. By the time you’re all ready to eat, you really do feel appreciative of the food, and your hosts’ hospitality. Afterwards, a fire is lit and you all stay up singing and laughing and sharing stories until the stars and the moon are the only lights in the sky. Eventually grey-haired Kalanu stands and says with a chuckle,
“Well, we all better pack it in. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow and we’re going to need a good nights sleep. This ain’t summer camp you know.”
That night you fall asleep to the gentle sound of the wind blowing through the boughs of the trees.
Breakfast is oats and coffee. It is served early and promptly with little ceremony, although a small offering is still made to the ancestors before meal time. After the dishes are cleaned up you all gather round for a morning meeting to delegate the daily tasks. There is no shortage of work. First off, everybody needs to be trained to keep watch on the barricade. The watch is maintained twenty four hours a day and eats up a fair bit of labour resources on its own without taking into account cooking, cleaning, and general camp upkeep. There is also the matter of erecting more permanent structures to house people over the winter. This is a big project, and since it’s already late summer there is no time to delay.
Original photo by: VICFAN