The Voices of the Crisis

by Giulia Martinez Brenner

The Dutch sun was generous that day. It smiled down on the gathering and reflected off the fluttering flags and signs for indigenous liberation. The first thing I noticed was how colourful the crowd was. Yet it was instantly offset by the solemn atmosphere -heads bowed, hands clasped, eyes closed. The air was grave, as it should be.

“The climate crisis is a colonial crisis.” Our global structures of profit are based on infinite exploitation of land and the peoples of the land. Ecocide and genocide go arm in arm, and the destruction of the environment is deeply connected to colonial, patriarchal violence towards marginalized groups. Indigenous peoples protect 80% of the world’s biodiversity, yet they are oppressed, displaced, and silenced. Environmental activism needs to be aware of the intersectional nature of climate justice, to then listen and learn from indigenous voices to better preserve life on earth.

These are the ideas behind the manifestation.

The event was organized by a collection of organizations like Milieudefensie, Aralez, Free West Papua Campaign NL; youth organizations like Extinction Rebellion, Fridays for Future, RADICAAL, and many more. They gathered and formed the Climate Solidarity Coalition to put forth a manifesto, signed by an additional number of groups, demanding indigenous rights to be acknowledged in the continuous fight against our climate emergency. They wrote it in light of the next annual UN Climate Change Conference (COP26), and specifically calls for a centralization of Indigenous People’s narratives in climate policy and a representation of their perspective to challenge colonialism and capitalism.

On the stage, speakers alternated with different groups of indigenous dancers, musicians, and other artists. In these moments I allowed myself to smile. Their clothes were dyed in vibrant shades, accentuated with feathers, beads, fringes moving rhythmically to music and wind.It had gotten colder at that point. The onlookers surrounding me gave off some warmth, but I still shivered.

“We must be critical of the narratives led by major Dutch and European institutions that claim to be fighting for climate justice, but fail to mention racism, Indigenous rights, class struggles, gender inequalities and other forms of oppression. Many of these institutions are inherently connected to exploitative practices or financially benefit from other institutions that do so.” This emergency involves so many aspects of inequality that must be acknowledged holistically and approached accordingly. The first step is becoming aware, but there is a dire necessity for something concrete. We need to create modes of support in which the people involved may be heard and structures for collective action so legislation always must involve indigenous consultation and collaboration.

The train ride back to Utrecht felt shorter than the way there, as it always does. My mask itched and fogged up my glasses, but the flat, flat landscape passed quickly.

It is not just about the trees that are cut down. It’s about trees that were stolen and marked with human blood before then being burnt to cinders. We need to face the climate crisis, but we cannot do so without justice and solidarity.