Although ironically, the only Danish I had was at the US delegation booth. One of the great things about the conference was all the free food. Lunch at the Holland Climate House, canapés at the EU delegation offices, dinner from a buffet at a side event, coffee and Danishes (all day every day!) at the US offices, etc.
The free food took the edge off an otherwise emotional week in Copenhagen. Now I’ve had an exhausting trip home, during which I managed to type up this post but not send it (you would think that one of the six airports would have had working wireless!) The flurries in Copenhagen turned into a raging blizzard that led to two nights sleeping in airports, a string of delays and breakdowns, and about 55 hours total of travel time.
But that's not what I'm here to talk about! I'm here to talk about negotiations, marches, action, non-action, violence, and desire for violence. So obviously, I survived the protests Wednesday, but not entirely unscathed. Physically, I am unhurt, but I think my faith in both high-level negotiations and direct action will take awhile to recover. It all really kicked off on Saturday...
Saturday w
as full to the brim of crazy. I spent the morning at KlimaForum, the "People's Climate Forum" for all those not invited to the COP15 or disenchanted with capitalism, corporations, big business, big government, nuclear power, neoliberalism or any other range of charismatic mega-concepts that could be tagged onto COP15. KlimaForum was the hub, the brewing spot, for many of the direct action events in Copenhagen. A giant march was planned for Saturday afternoon/evening going from the centre of town all the way to Bella Centre several kilometres away.Reactions inside Bella Centre as live footage fed onto a big-screen TV: So are these guys with us or against us? Most people believe climate change is a real threat, and most people think that’s a bad thing. So why would anyone march against COP15? Even from where I stood, straddling that suddenly tangible UN police barrier between government and public, I couldn'
t accurately respond.So I went to find the answer. Outside, tens of thousands (100,000?) pooled in front of Bella in the chilly blue light that illuminated the blades of the centre’s wind turbine. Messages from the speakers:
- “We want an agreement that is fair and binding!” – Mary Robbins
- “Climate justice now!” – Nnimmo Bassey of Friends of the Earth (FOE)
- “Revolution! Smash capitalism!” – Ian Terry
- “Nuclear power will kill us all! We should kidnap these negotiators and feed them cat food!” – Helen Caldicott
So Mr. Suit, are they with you or against you?
And who, for that matter, am I with? That night, walking away from the action, I thought I was more with negotiators. No one I’d talked to on the “outside” had any viable suggestion on what to do. Kidnap the
negotiators and feed them cat food? Yeah, that will stop climate change. Smash capitalism? To what end? And how? And would that really cause more good than harm in the end? While I think direct action can be successful when used against discrete problems, perhaps global problems really do need global solutions, supported by grassroots but fed by the head.Then the negotiations further faltered, the NGOs were restricted, numbers capped to make room for the staff of the heads of state. Civil society was shut out to make room for the presidents’ hair dressers and cocktail mixers (literally). Leading to the situation I described in my last post.
I left for Bella Wednesday morning (just after finishing the post) with my NSEP cohort Nick. Initially I was frustrated – we were slow moving, the metro stations were shut,
and the coffee man took fifteen minutes to make a bagel. I kept thinking, “C’mon! We’re missing the action!” It was true – we missed the action by moments, thank goodness. We got to the group seconds after police began to encircle the actionists, to corral them between encroaching riot cars, police lines, and a swampy irrigation ditch. I considered jumping into the fray but decided better after I saw police club a cameraman who was attempting an escape after being unlucky enough to get caught behind lines. The demonstrations remained peaceful (if vocal); however, despite this restraint, minutes later clouds of caustic teargas erupted in the middle of the crowd.Safely upwind
and across the deep muddy irrigation ditch I could only look on feeling sickened and useless. Once things calmed, someone managed to build a little bridge across the ditch and we joined the group. We heard that Friends of the Earth (who had simultaneously staged a walk out from Bella) were banned from the conference but forbidden to join the group on the outside. Then conference directors threatened a media ban because the media was “encouraging the protests...”Suddenly I was sympathising much more strongly with the demonstrators. What more can you do when you feel your voice is not being heard, that you are shut out in the cold, tear-gassed and clubbed? For those experienced actionists reading this, I’m sure you’re saying... Well duh. But for me it was a new sentiment. For me direct action had always been just one tool in the kit, sometimes more effective than others, rather than an expression of desperation.
Later that day my newfound solidarity sparked an argument with an ex-military Yale student who had joined me in watching the live web stream from the plenary. He commented that FOE and the actionists were asking for it (the tear gas, etc) trying to stage a simultaneous walk in/out. It was illegal after all to breach a UN secured border. I tried to explain the desperation, the fact that it was a peaceful demonstration. But he recounted the intimidation one feels when being marched upon, how easy it is to panic and throw gas canisters (or shoot someone). Marching like that, he reiterated, was asking for trouble. What did we expect?
So Mr. Yale man, is a girl in a short skirt “asking for it?” Are we to pardon actions driven by the base instincts, by lust or fear?
Not to say I have no sympathy for any member of these conflicts. Diverse groups - the police and demonstrators, the developed and developing countries, the north and south - came head to head, driven by fear, frustration, helplessness or hopelessness, desperation, and obligation. What did I expect?
I In fact, I had few expectations for COP15, but I had hopes. In my naivety, in my idealism, I hoped people would be able to work together. That maybe they would be bonded in their fear, frustration, and desperation when faced by a massive global threat. I hoped negotiators would somehow find a way to act for the greatest global good. I hoped demonstrators would find constructive ways to be heard, to voice their support for fair and binding agreements or viable alternatives to them. I hoped the USA would lead even without the blessing of the Senate. I hoped the world would mourn the failure of COP15. Instead, negotiators promote COP16, the demonstrators celebrate (the failure of big business/government?) and the rest of the world seems more or less indifferent. The real audacity of hope is that you’ve got further to fall when your champions let you down. Maybe we do just need another year – I hope we have that long.
-Lys
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