A message from your friendly, local hazardous oppression cleanup collective:

The people arrested on Parliament Hill last week are committed, dedicated individuals opposed to the continued expansion of the Tar Sands. The organizations involved in the demonstration are, likewise, made up of well-intentioned people who want to fight to make a better world and a less destructive economy.

But with such high stakes, it’s increasingly important for us to think strategically and apply effective tactics. Do we want to demonstrate our collective power, or register our dissent? Do we want to slow, then stop, the forces of ecological and social destruction, or ameliorate our guilt?

These aren’t meant to be rhetorical questions. And we should be asking these types of questions before and during all our actions.

Did getting 2000 people arrested in front of the White House change anything? Would it here? Could 200 people willing to be arrested at Parliament Hill accomplish something tangible? How best can people access levers of power, even from within a “peaceful, respectful” framework?

It is our position that last week’s action at Parliament Hill represents a mockery of the proud tradition of civil disobedience. Civil disobedience is not simply being non-violent and polite; it is a tactical choice that makes it difficult for power structures to continue systemic oppression. In the segregated American south of the 1950s and 60s, black students fighting for civil rights sat-in at lunch counters and put their bodies where they were not allowed. That was a significant defiance of law, social convention, and the day-to-day operation of segregated lunch counters.

The Parliament Hill arrestees did not even make it to the “lunch counter.” Instead, the “civil disobedient” asked – from outside, on the sidewalk and parliament green space – for permission to be arrested without defying law or social convention, and without disrupting Parliament’s daily operations. The sentiment, "arrest me please, because I care and believe power listens to the polite and well-reasoned," may well represent the image of their government some Canadians wish were true, but it is not reality. Power listens to force—force that can be wielded in many different ways, including non-violently, but it needs to be real. We need to demonstrate that our organizations can make real change, and cause real disruptions, not theatrical ones, which are easily ignored.

The Parliament Hill action against the XL Pipeline was in fact “civil obedience”—contrived drivel, verging on the meaningless: demonstrators went out of their way to avoid challenging the status quo of Parliament Hill; they avoided inconveniencing those making ecologically devastating policy decisions; and they avoided engaging any levers of power that could influence those same policy-makers. By suggesting this action was going to be an effective way to make the change that so desperately needs to happen, the organizing groups were deceiving not only themselves, but also the people who want to make change.

Imagine if the 117 people who were arrested in Ottawa divided themselves up with the larger support crowd and blockaded each Centre Block entrance, disrupting the smooth operation of ecocidal policy makers. Imagine the demonstrable power and actual reduction of CO2 emissions if 117 people and their supporters waited, peacefully, to be arrested on the tarmac of the Ottawa airport. Imagine the effect on the economy (which has the only ear of power) if 117 people crossed a fence onto the 401, the NAFTA Free-Trade Corridor, and then waited, peacefully, to be arrested. We recall Clayoquot Sound, and the 850 people who were arrested protecting old growth forests in 1993. These people were among 12,000 others taking part in road blockades, and weren’t asking politicians to listen to them. They were making a difference, protecting the land, and becoming a political force that could not be ignored.

We need to learn from movements that have made monumental change, like the African National Congress in South Africa, or the Zapatista National Liberation Army in Chiapas, Mexico. We can make change, but it means taking ourselves and our goals seriously. It means understanding power does not change because people register their dissatisfaction, or because people point out unethical practices. Power changes only when the cost of maintaining that power is more expensive, either socially or economically, than not changing.

The Tar Sands are worth so much money. We’ll have to cause significant cost to their operation before the powers no longer feel it’s ethically, financially, or politically affordable to continue to turn vast tracts of stolen lands and ecosystems into post-apocalyptic landscapes.

Our aim is not to personally attack anyone who organized or participated in the 26 September 2011 protest in Ottawa; it is to encourage all of us to be honest with ourselves, our analysis, and our actions. We recognize the importance of employing mobilization tactics that ask large numbers of concerned people to participate, and we appreciate the value of raising public awareness about the detriments of expanding the Tar Sands. We, ourselves, are not above criticism, nor do we think there is only one “way” to make change. Different strategies and tactics can and must complement each other—but let’s not confuse actions that make us feel good, with actions that move us toward our goal.

Let’s begin an actual civil disobedience campaign against the Tar Sands and the XL Pipeline. Let’s put our bodies and convictions to work to disrupt and inconvenience the often invisibly violent systems of oppression. Let’s make visible the unseen social and ecological cost of the continued, unsustainable extraction and consumption of fossil fuels.

Hazardous Oppression Cleanup Collective
www.hazardousoppressioncleanupcollective.wordpress.com
hazardousoppressioncleanup@gmail.com