pipelines

Inspired by Standing Rock

The story of Chanukah is a narrative of the victory of a small group of righteous fighters against a powerful empire. It is a redemptive story of standing for one’s beliefs (and existence) and triumphing in the end.

The end of 2016 is a time when redemptive stories are even more welcome and the decision by the U.S. government last weekend to accede to the defiance of protesters in North Dakota is just such a story. Plans to run an oil pipeline through a cemetery and under a water reservoir near the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation were kiboshed. This doesn’t mean an alternative route won’t see the project completed, but it does alleviate the immediate fears the people had of the potential destruction of their water supply and further desecration of sacred sites, some of which have already been bulldozed.

The example of the Standing Rock Sioux and their allies from all over the country who stood up to the oil company is already being held up as a model for British Columbians, many of whom spent the weekend fuming over an announcement by Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. The prime minister declared that cabinet had approved the Kinder Morgan Trans-Mountain pipeline – which would see the number of tankers transporting bitumen from Burnaby, through Burrard Inlet, to Asia, increase to 34 per month from five – as well as another pipeline to the United States, while rejecting the Northern Gateway pipeline, which would have sent diluted bitumen to Asia via northern British Columbia. The incongruity of the decision – that the government recognizes the pristine fragility of the northern coast, but not that of the southern coast – is among the causes of outrage. Other concerns involve larger global issues of fossil fuels and the range of options that could, if we are going to use this non-renewable resource, at least reduce the negative environmental impacts.

Ahavat ha’beriot, love for (God’s) creation, is at the heart of Jewish identity. There is also the commandment to not stand by the blood of your neighbor; that is, do not behave passively in the face of violence toward others. While there was violence at Standing Rock, the greater threat was to the livelihood of the community there, based on the necessity of potable water. Likewise, the potential for ecological disaster as a result of the increased tanker traffic along Vancouver’s coast could destroy much creation, while the commitment to non-renewable fuels exemplified by the pipeline infrastructure will have global consequences.

Protecting creation is at the heart of First Nations identity as well, as was so articulately expressed at Standing Rock and which has also been demonstrated by reaction to Western Canadian pipelines, much of the opposition to which is led by indigenous people. Among the most heartening aspects of the Standing Rock story was the solidarity between indigenous and non-indigenous peoples.

Even if we disagree on this issue – we who drive cars or otherwise exploit non-renewable resources should demonstrate commitment to reducing emissions with our actions as well as our words – the lesson of Standing Rock goes beyond this single topic.

The United States and much of the world is experiencing a political upheaval. Particular challenges will emerge from the stunning U.S. election result, which handed the White House and both chambers of Congress to a party that rejects much of what has been termed “progressive” – environmental regulations, equality for women and minorities, protections for workers and a long list of other advances that cannot now (if they ever could) be taken for granted.

In the face of a Washington that is uniformly Republican, there may be a renewed need for public demonstrations that advance alternative viewpoints. People stood up at the coincidentally but aptly named Standing Rock. People may have to do the same in many places, including Burrard Inlet, during the coming years.

We need not be modern Maccabees to take such a stand. It is highly unlikely that any of us will see our lives threatened for opposing a pipeline, or acting within the law to advance or oppose some other viewpoint. Conversely, if action is not taken, if voices do not coalesce to demand alternatives to our world’s rapacious appetite for fossil fuels, all of creation may well be threatened.

Perspective gained at camp

On a logging road near Smithers, B.C., the Unist’ot’en people occupy their traditional land in order to stop work on the 11 pipeline projects that would run through the area. Located beside Wedjin Kwa (Morice River), the camp is one of the only places left in the world where it is safe to drink directly from a natural body of water. Add to this the rustling trees, abundant huckleberries, countless wildlife and more, and it is clear why it is worth fighting for this land.

The Unist’ot’en maintain a checkpoint where all visitors must answer a series of questions posed by a member of the clan to assess the level of support for the clan’s action before being allowed into the territory. Supporters and allies have been allowed into the camp, as well as loggers with preexisting contracts; however, pipeline workers and helicopter crews arrive often and are reminded that they have not followed the appropriate channels to be permitted to do work on the land.

During my visit, the camp was on high alert after a tip that police planned to raid and demolish the camp, and arrest people living there. Stories around the campfire included many accounts of police misinformation and aggressiveness from veterans of the land defence struggle since the Oka crisis in 1990. There were also accounts of police following members of the camp when they went in to town, and of helicopters and surveillance drones flying overhead more than six times a day.

As those telling stories began to reminisce about siblings and parents in the residential school system, I saw the patterns of trauma visible in my own family and community emerge. The way that pain is passed through generations reveals an eerie overlap. I see remnants of the Holocaust in the way my grandparents raised my parents, my family’s relationship with food and eating, and the way they remember and guard their identity because someone once tried to take it away. With new research into genetics and epigenetics, we now know that trauma during a person’s lifetime can be passed to their children through their genes. This means that both habits and practices built during a lifetime, as well as genetic responses to stress, can be passed on.

An authority that once promised to keep them safe has betrayed both my ancestors and the people at the camp. When one elder spoke about watching as his siblings and childhood friends disappeared at the residential school, it echoed the blank pages that are so many Jewish family trees since the 1930s. I also see similarities between the Holocaust and the genocide of First Nations peoples through the reserves and the residential school system, the devastation caused by smallpox and alcoholism, much of which was propagated by the state. Not to mention continued racism.

I understand that the situations are not identical but there is enough commonality that it warrants a deeper look. I do not understand why peoples who have gone through cultural and physical genocide don’t come together in dialogue and support for each other’s survival. Throughout the last 70 years, we have promised repeatedly to “never forget,” but First Nations peoples still suffer discrimination, and this should command our attention. When there is injustice for some, there is no justice for anyone, and who better to stand in support of equal rights and freedoms, than a people who also has a long history of being oppressed and having to fight for survival.

Ariel Martz-Oberlander is a theatre artist, activist and poet living in Vancouver, Coast Salish territories. She is grateful every day for the people who work to make the world a more lovely place to be.