Musings

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My hero Mahatma Gandhi often talked about the importance of seeing one’s political opponents as human beings. He said that no matter what you should never demand your opponent be humiliated, but rather always leave room for them to save face. He also said you should always be willing to talk to your opponents, and should always remember to never hate people, only to hate people’s behavior.

I think that he was a smart guy. And recently I had an experience that brought this home to me all over again.

This is a video I took at an action Quit Coal performed at a Mantle Mining general meeting. A couple of Quit Coallers locked on downstairs and I decided to go ask the board directly how they justify destroying farmlands in order begin exporting brown coal from Victoria and pumping our atmosphere full of the greenhouse gasses already at levels dangerous to the future of our civilization.

Quit Coal inside Mantle Mining’s general meeting. from Quit Coal on Vimeo.

Now, I have to say a couple of things about this. The first is that I actually didn’t plan to push the confrontation quite so far. A Mantle employee by the name of Winton started mocking me at one point because as I was filming my hand was shaking. I often shake in highly tense confrontational situations. It’s a fight or flight kind of response, the sympathetic (I think) nervous system kicking into action in a big way. So I was already quite heightened, and Winton mocking me pushed me into a slight ‘fight’ response as I pushed my way into their boardroom, which was actually totally unplanned.

The second thing I want to say about it is that I really didn’t know what to think about it for a long time afterwards, and still don’t in a lot of ways. It was quite new for me to come face to face with the people whose actions are spurring my activism and protest, and this novelty combined with the unplanned nature of what I was doing led to quite a raw, candid encounter.

I expressed anger, certainly, but also confusion, and desperation, and hurt. When you are finally in a room with someone you’re campaigning against they are no longer a bogeyman, and they are no longer the caricature of the money-hungry capitalist with the smoke billowing cigar that you might make them out as in a political cartoon. They are just people. They are just frail, flawed people like everyone else.

I think often more radical activists (and I suppose I fit that category, many would disagree) want everyone to take a hard line, want  everyone to regard our opponents as completely psychotic, unfeeling monsters. The idea strikes us as contemptuous, for example, that some activists or campaigners are negotiating compromises with logging companies, whalers, or indeed, ‘coal barons’ as we often terms men such as these in this video. But when you meet people in person, I think it becomes quite understandable that many would adopt what seems from the outside to be an overly compromising and conciliatory approach.

We’re not built to enjoy conflict. Not many of us, anyway. It probably triggers off mechanisms deep in our evolutionary psychological make up that tell us that we’re better off avoiding the people and places we experienced conflict in. In this case, it also triggered off in me a strong impulse to try to achieve reconciliation. After the afternoon of the action I had a strong urge to contact Ian Kraemer and to try to somehow apologize for the confrontational nature of my actions, while still making clear that I was going to strongly oppose his plans. I felt something like: look, i’ve been face to face with your humanity and I want to acknowledge it, and i’d also like you to acknowledge mine. I still hate what you’re doing, but I don’t hate you. Hating you would diminish me somehow, and I don’t have it in me to give up whatever that would mean giving up.

In the end I didn’t contact him. I shared the video through Quit Coal’s facebook and wrote something about feeling conflicted about it and left it at that. Some people found the video powerful, some found it funny, others found it depressing at how little response my words got from the Mantle board. I still fully don’t know exactly how to feel about it, but I’m sure the experience given me an even greater understanding, admiration and affinity for Gandhi’s methods and his non-violence.

As I said, I think he was a pretty smart guy.

Whoah.

I haven’t posted anything here in a looong time. After finishing my thesis the sight of microsoft word tended to induce me to rock back and forth in the fetal position and sweat profusely. But I’m OK now. I’m back. I think.

This is just a note I put on facebook tonight, reflecting about the terrifying cyclone that tonight is smashing into the north-east of my country. I have a number of facebook ‘friends’ who really aren’t very environmental, and I was wondering if perhaps this cyclone might be a way to reach some of them and engage them in a discussion of climate change. It started as a status update, but I then just kept on typing. There’s a lot that needs to be said.

Anyway, it went like this:

Hi, facebook friends.

Any of you not sure what you should do with your life? Well, I want you to look at the cyclone hitting Australia now. Cyclones are more intense now, and more frequent, as a result of climate change. But here’s the thing – the climate hasn’t even CHANGED that much yet. Read the rest of this entry »

Having now finished my university degree, I find myself in the unusual position of having some spare time with which to read books and watch films, and am wondering where to begin. So I would like recommendations! I want to be inspired, and educated, and moved. Below is a list of the 6 works that have probably had the greatest influence over my life so far. What, in your opinion, should be added to it?

1. Dead White Males by David Williamson

Assigned to my year eleven literature class, I read this play half-stoned on my old bunk-bed while on a visit back to Wangaratta. Living away from home for the first time and running off the rails, I had convinced myself I was undergoing some kind of heroic rite of passage into manhood, and Williamson’s take on the resilience of gender roles in post-modern society seemed full of just the long-hidden secrets I was searching for. Never again would my machismo be natural or un-analysed. Read the rest of this entry »

Court

Yesterday I appeared, clean shaven and underslept, in the Melbourne magistrates court to answer the charge of trespass which I incurred last year at a protest calling for the closure of Hazelwood power station. It was quite an experience.

This was the second time in my life that I have been to court. The first was after I dented a car with a drunken teenage kick outside a pub in suburban Melbourne. A long time ago now, I can’t remember much about the hearing, except being slightly annoyed that the judge involved made an incorrect assumption in his statement about his decision to fine me, which I was unable to correct. It wasn’t of great consequence, and his decision was fair, but it still irked me slightly that there could be anything even slightly arbitrary in the execution of such an authoritative role.

And yesterday, again, the same thing seemed to occur. I was denied a ‘diversion’ – an odd construct at the very bottom of an overly complex hierarchy of legal consequences – on the basis of my previous conviction. The dented car.

Now, fair enough, I suppose, but again, it was all just so hopelessly vague and disempowering. I was first given a long form to fill out, which included a question asking if I had ever been convicted of an offense before. Helpfully, it included details about my previous case, which had written underneath in capitals: NO CONVICTION. Naturally, I answered no. Read the rest of this entry »

On December 19, 2009, I ended my fast, after 43 days and 11 hours of taking in nothing but water and salt. I posted the following blog later that day.

One day.

Could any two words hold more hope than these?

They precede our dreams, our longings, and that which we need to believe.

One day I’ll get that dream job, we say. One day I’ll have that family. They are a prayer, holding us up, and calling us on. Through these words, we fill the unknown future with everything our hearts desire- love, happiness, and security. And through these words, we find the strength to make our dreams come true.

I used to have so many of these prayers. One day I would travel the world. One day I would be a successful musician. One day I would own my own home.

Today, I have only one. Because I know that if this prayer does not come true, the rest will mean nothing.

Today, my only prayer is that one day we will look back upon the current period of history and we will remember a time when the threat of climate change rendered our future uncertain.

We will remember feeling fear as we watched the desperate warnings of scientists ignored by our leaders at COP15, and disbelief as our irreplaceable planet was sacrificed for meaningless profits. And we will remember our frustration as we worked to awaken a world that often seemed willfully ignorant of the enormous danger it faced.

But this will not be all. Read the rest of this entry »

On around day 40 of CJF, as I was lying half awake in our tent, the words of a speech started appearing in my mind. I grabbed a pen and scribbled a few of them down, then later worked on them a little more until they became the following message, which I sent out to all the people around the world who fasted with us on December 18, 2009.

Greetings. My name is Paul Connor. And today, alongside my good friends Anna Keenan, who is like me an Australian, and Sara Svensson, from Sweden, I am now on day 42 of a fast for climate justice. Today though, we are far from alone. Today, over 3000 people, from all over the world, have joined us in fasting for this same cause.

To those of you who have joined the fast, I want to say that it is a blessing to be fasting with you, as we come together, today, unified by our love for this planet, its people, and its animals, and by our deep and shared concern over its future.

My friends, today, as we fast alongside each other, I know that many of us are angered, saddened, and disillusioned with what we have witnessed over the past two weeks in Copenhagen. But I want to say to you all that whatever has taken place over there- we must not despair, because hope is alive.

I want to say to you that no matter how much we may have to fear, there has never been a more exciting time to be alive than now. It is a scary time, granted- but an incredibly exciting one nonetheless.

Today, with all of human history behind us, and a new millennium stretched out ahead, we stand at a moment in time when a completely new civilization is being born upon planet Earth- a civilization utterly unlike any that has ever come before it. And we stand, here, today, right now, at its dawn.

But so far, this ‘new civilization’, well, it doesn’t really have a name. Well, not a sexy name, anyway. I mean, the words ‘ecological sustainability’- E-CO-LO-GI-CAL SUS-TAI-NA-BI-LI-TY…-now, that’s five syllables followed by six- lets face it, they don’t quite roll off the tongue. We’ll come up with something more catchy, eventually, I’m sure.

But ecological sustainability. Those two words represent something incredible. Because for the human race- those two words are a revolution. Read the rest of this entry »

There is a peculiar feeling which I have felt on three separate occassions in my life. I can only describe it as an enormous rush of transcendent love and compassion. Each time it has occured I have simply been overwhelmed by it, and I am convinced that it is somehow spiritual. Read the rest of this entry »

When I Met Mudzuri

‘When I met Mudzuri, he was wearing a baseball cap that said “National WWII Memorial, Washington, D.C.” on it. In 2002, he was elected mayor of Harare, but under government pressure left his job and the country. He took his family to Cambridge, Massachusetts, where he earned a master’s degree in public administration at Harvard. When he returned for the recent campaign, he said, ZANU-P.F. militants went to his home village and severely beat his eighty-year-old father; several weeks later, the old man was still hospitalized.’

-from ‘The Destroyer’, a letter from Zimbabwe, by Jon Lee Anderson, The New Yorker, October 2008

I read this while I was eating lunch today, and was struck by a number of thoughts.

I have to confess though, the first thing that occurred to me was rather self-involved.

‘What if I was there?’ I thought, ‘would I be fighting for democracy, or for justice? And what if that meant risking my life? Or the health of family?’

I’d like to think that the answer to these questions would be yes, but as I thought about it, I realized that there is no way that I can say that for sure. In fact, there is no way I can even imagine what its like to be this man. I simply do not know, because I have never experienced anything like what he has. So though I wish I could say yes, I would do what he is doing, I cannot.

Because I’ve never been beaten before.

And no one close to me has ever been beaten before.

Much less beaten by people acting on behalf of the government.

And much, much less beaten by people acting on behalf of the government BECAUSE I had the temerity to suggest that our nation of people has the right to select which individuals lead it. Read the rest of this entry »

20 Minutes More

This is what just happened to you.

You died.

Don’t be alarmed, it happens to everyone. It was your time. You were quite old, after all. The Doctors had been predicting it for months, but you kept on fighting, stubborn to the last. It was actually quite a relief when it finally happened. Bodies can be quite painful things on the way out.

After you died, the angel of death was waiting for you.

“Hi there”, he said.

“Where am I?” you whispered. Not particularly original, but we’ll forgive that.

“Well, technically, you’re nowhere,” he said gently “but it may be useful for you to think of this place as ‘limbo’.

“Now, I realize you probably have a lot of questions, but I’m pretty short on time today, so we’re going to have to make this quick. I’ve got a flood in Bangladesh and an earthquake in Tajikistan to get to, and its not even lunchtime! And God forbid they put any new staff on to cover the population explosion!

“Anyway, sorry, I’m ranting. So, I am the angel of death, which means that you are, you guessed it, dead! Soon I’ll be taking you to the next world, but before that, there is something that we need to get to. I need to ask you a question.”

He fixed his eyes upon yours. Read the rest of this entry »