And another thing...

 “Close on a million people filled the streets of the capital to urge Britain and America not to attack Iraq. But a clarion call to rally for decisive action on climate change saw a mere few hundred trickle round Grosvenor Square.” Martin Wright

Time was when environmentalism and the peace movement were badges on the same lapel. It was the most natural thing in the world for one of the first mass eco-campaigns to call itself Greenpeace. If you hated violence and war, you loved rainforests and whales - and vice versa. In part, this was a reaction to the madness of the ‘mutually-assured destruction’ that passed in those days for a balance of power. But it was also driven by a gloriously simple, intuitive passion that trashing forests and people alike was plain wrong. Then came the 90s: the end of the superpower standoff, and the dawn of a new era of complexity in global affairs. With the nuclear nightmare fading, and small, vicious wars from Bosnia to Rwanda casting doubt on the moral validity of pacifism, the ‘peace movement’ languished. Many environmentalists, meanwhile, flushed with the unfamiliar thrill of being taken seriously, were understandably willing to ditch anything which smacked of the utopian fringe. So it was a case of plenty of Green, but go easy on the Peace.... Understandable, maybe, but something of a shame, for two reasons. First, it epitomised a shift away from the passion and intuition which had fired up those early campaigners, towards a more sober, reasoned approach, full of incontestable facts and crunchy data. Sure, we need all that stuff, or we’re just off with the fairies, but if that’s all we can offer, then we’re either anoraks or suits - neither of which has ever stirred hearts to change the world.

“Without passion, we’re either anoraks or suits - neither of which has ever stirred hearts to change the world.”

Just look at the comparative turnout figures for a couple of mass demonstrations in London. Back in 2003, close on a million people filled the streets of the capital to urge Britain and America not to attack Iraq. In February this year, a clarion call to rally for decisive action on climate change saw a mere few hundred trickle round Grosvenor Square. Now, you could put some of that down to the lack of any ‘real and present threat’ embodied in global warming - compared to a war which many feared would draw terrorist reprisals close to home. But that vast disparity in public outcry also neatly illustrates the second reason why separating peace and environment is a dodgy tactic. Growing competition over resources such as oil, water, timber and minerals, many of them sourced in the world’s more volatile regions, is increasing political tension and triggering conflicts across the globe. Soil erosion, plunging water tables and forest destruction are threatening to bring about the collapse of rural societies, sending millions into overburdened cities. Climate change is already destabilising agriculture worldwide, and threatening far more chaotic consequences in the years ahead. It’s not a peaceful prospect. And that means there’s a vital connection to be made between securing a sustainable future on the one hand, and defusing some of the most dangerous conflicts, current and potential, which threaten the security of us all. It’s a connection that has long been grasped by Wangari Maathai, founder of Kenya’s Green Belt Movement, which has not only planted 30 million trees, but fought for women’s rights, democracy and an end to the corruption which has so crippled the country. So when the Nobel Committee awarded her its Peace Prize - in preference to other more predictable candidates such as the Pope and Vaclav Havel - it marked a courageous and overdue recognition that peace and environment go together just as much now as they did in those starry eyes of the 60s campaigners. So here’s to a new peace movement - more level-headed than before, maybe, but no less idealistic. Martin Wright is editor-in-chief of Green Futures.

15 March 2005

Martin Wright