Lessons From The Rebellion

Apologies, I haven't been as active as usual or responding to comments with any kind of regularity due to the death of a close family member. I am still reading and do appreciate all of your comments!

Weeks after taking part in the Impossible Rebellion, albeit in a small way, I realised I was still thinking about it. Partly this was simple satisfaction - I can be prone to cloistering myself away, partly because I'm an introvert, but also partly because of the intensive nature of being a full-time mum, partly because I'm finding that Druid study, in fact an interest in the esoteric in general, requires a fair amount of headspace for processing, learning, practising, and investigating. And also, not least of all, partly because those aspects of me and my life that go against the grain of normal living - or perhaps are simply different to what some of my friends are doing - sometimes make me feel a bit alienated. 

Not shopping is one of these things. Many blogs will attest to the fact that it's fairly common nowadays to take some time off from shopping. Maybe for environmental reasons, maybe for decluttering or financial purposes - maybe all of the above. However, my fascination with the mechanics of consumer society has led me to believe that I am looking not at a temporary pause but at a move towards a different way of life, as I try to unhook myself from the capitalist machine, as much as I am able.

The more I learn about a culture that feeds on our disconnect, our wants, our insecurities, the less bandwidth I have for girls' night chat about who's getting Botox. 

So, anyway, Rebellion felt liberating for me because I actually got myself out of the house and went and took part in something meaningful with others of, if not like mind, then at least similar hopes and fears about our planet and our future on it. Rebellion also showed me some of my dreams in action, such as non-hierarchical organisation and a gift economy. 

It was a bit startling to come home again, and after a fortnight of daily actions and emails showing wild creativity, love and rage, as well as the deep concern for our environment that drives the movement, to take my mum's rubbish out and find that a neighbour had shoved fifteen leather handbags in perfectly good condition into the bin to be incinerated. I'd almost forgotten that possibly the majority of people are not coming at everyday situations thinking about their effect on the environment, or even the simple facts of where our belongings come from and where they go when we don't want them any more. (I rescued the handbags, by the way, and they have been rehomed. I also rescued a box of Christmas cards, a pack of gift bags, and four brand new rolls of gift wrap. I really don't mean to make a habit of pulling stuff out of bins, but I cannot stand waste.)

The more I keep up to date with the climate science, the more I find I'm becoming a sort of apocalypse prepper. Like, might as well face my addiction to shopping now, because there ain't gonna be no trips to the mall when Southampton's underwater and people are rioting in the streets because there's no food and no space. I can't decide whether this is an unhealthy mindset or simply a logical one. Either way, my skill set of spinning, weaving, knitting, foraging and that archery course I took will hopefully stand me in good stead when the chips are down. I hope. Meanwhile, there's a lot of dissonance between my position, and that of someone who thinks the place for their unwanted leather goods is the dustbin. And it's hard to summon up enthusiasm for Botox when the chances of living long enough to develop serious wrinkles are looking increasingly slim.

As well as forever marking myself out as some fringe-dwelling weirdo, I came home from the Rebellion armed with information:

The government aren't listening. No one is coming to save us. I find it utterly horrifying that our alleged representatives are blithely making things worse - while saying all the right things. They are not even bothering to work towards their own targets. It would be embarrassing if it wasn't so frightening. On an unrelated note, remember that time Iceland peacefully overthrew their government? Oh, you don't? Wow, our billionaire-owned UK media sure kept that quiet, didn't they? Wonder why. (I'm not saying XR are planning a revolution. But I hope that someone is.)

Trying to do the right thing can also backfire. I was confused when I saw in one of the email dispatches from XR that youth activists were peacefully occupying the headquarters of environmental charity WWF. When I first became interested in environmentalism I set up a small monthly donation to WWF, and I was appalled and deeply saddened to learn that this organisation has been partnering with and/or receiving donations from polluting companies such as Coca-Cola, HSBC, Pepsi, Domtar (a coal company), Monsanto and the ubiquitous Shell (see below). Their management and board of directors includes people from General Motors, BP and Unilever. They are also guilty of an array of human rights abuses, including funding raids on villages by paramilitary organisations, stealing land from indigenous peoples in the name of "conservation" (here's why that doesn't work to anyone's benefit), and working with vicious anti-poaching guards and "shock troops" who have committed a terrifying variety of crimes from rape and torture to murder. Wow. For more about all of this, please check out WTF WWF. I used their page to cancel my direct debit to WWF (and you can bet I wrote to WWF and told them why), and will be donating my money to the Guarani Yvyruppa Commission in future.

Shell are everywhere. From former Shell employees putting together panels of scientists to fight against the move towards net zero (this is old news, but I came across it fairly recently, hence I flag it up for your perusal), to the company sponsoring a Science Museum exhibition about greenhouse gases and climate change - the museum signed a gagging clause forbidding them from naming Shell as a sponsor for the exhibition, and agreed not to 'sully the reputation' of the company by carefully not mentioning the part that fossil fuel companies are playing in the devastation of our environment. (Also, MURDER, can we all just stop giving Shell money, they are awful and terrible.)

Mo' money, mo' problems. Or, as the Bible says, "The love of money is the root of all evil." Will Farbrother from Money Rebellion has said, "If the City [of London] was a country, it would be the world's ninth biggest emitter of CO2, worse than Germany." I recently experienced myself how addicted we are to the accumulation of money when we had some cash flow problems due to Dai changing job. I had enough savings to carry us across the gap, but oh how deflating it was to see that number in my savings account go down - despite my fondness for anti-capitalist rhetoric and staunch belief that money isn't everything! Of course, the amounts I'm talking about are small change to many of those who work in the City. How much more gripping must their addiction be, played out on such a tremendous scale?

To end on a brighter note, my biggest takeaway from the Rebellion was that a different world is possible. I know because I saw it. I saw community and cooperation, kindness and honesty. I saw people making art on the streets and sharing free food. Extinction Rebellion's explanation of their principles and values is an exciting and hopeful manifesto. The entire Rebellion exists through non-hierarchical organisation, prioritising autonomy and decentralisation. During the protests, community hubs set up for rebels provided a safe space to retreat to, where hot food and drinks were provided, as well as support ranging from practical to emotional. For a short time out of time, these protesters form their own society, a society radically different than the violent, oppressive system we currently have - and it works. 


"Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. 
Want more of everything ready-made. 
Be afraid to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery any more. 
Your mind will be punched in a card and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something they will call you. 
When they want you to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute." - from Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry

Scenes From The Impossible Rebellion

On Tuesday this week, the Spud and I found ourselves on the train to London. I hadn't really thought that I'd be able to take part in the Impossible Rebellion in person this year, mainly due to financial concerns but also because I'm a full-time parent and that's kind of an intense job. So on Sunday, when I learned about the XR Families group and their kid-friendly Feed-In and Play-In, I immediately started looking at train tickets. 

Monday night, I almost didn't sleep. I'd seen some scary scenes of somewhat aggressive policing at the protests, and whilst I trusted the organisers to have arranged a child-safe space, I was still a little nervous. Still, I reasoned, I wasn't going to be locked on to anything or glued to the pavement - if at any point I felt uncomfortable, we would get up and leave. 

I channelled my nervous energy into making a 'Little Rebel' patch for the Spud out of a stained old t-shirt, and for myself I recycled an old tote into a back patch for my waistcoat. I wanted to be able to cover the patches with our jackets if need be - I'd seen photos of a mother and children refused access to a protest site, preparing their materials in the street. I didn't fancy travelling all that way to become a rebellion of two, so I wanted us to be able to move 'undercover' if we had to!

Once we arrived in London we had plenty of time to make our way to the meeting point, as specified in an encrypted message by the organisers. We got there early, which was just as well, as the intended meeting place had been made inaccessible, so I had to try to follow directions on Google Maps to find the others. My complete inability to navigate made a five-minute walk feel like half an hour, but luckily the rebels were pretty easy to spot, their pink flags proudly bearing hearts and hourglasses. 

A lot of this particular group seemed to already know each other. There was a definite middle-class-hippie vibe, and the fashion choices ranged from cardie and leggings to the ubiquitous vegan mama uniform of colourful-harem-pants-and-relaxed-jumper. I spotted a boiler suit hand-painted with the XR hourglass on the back, with a tree growing up through the middle. The organiser Miranda made a point of personally greeting all the new arrivals, which was nice, and I struck up a pleasant conversation with a friendly blonde lady with a perky ponytail and a child slightly older than the Spud.

The Spud and I settled on the edges of the group. He was tired by this point and deeply cranky, but from his hiding place in my lap I could see one bright eye roving over the other babies and children. Eventually he plucked up courage to join the group and begin chalking on the pavement, beside a blonde boy of about nine years old, who, much to my amusement, was writing 'DISOBEY' in capital letters. (The Spud drew a tree.)

Watching the kids playing, I almost jumped out of my skin as an arm slid around my shoulders. It was a chap in patchwork trousers and a 'police liason' pink high vis, who introduced himself and asked who he needed to check in with. I directed him to Miranda, not sure whether to feel pleased or vaguely alarmed.

Once the group had assembled - don't ask me for an estimate of numbers; it seemed a desperately small group to begin with but by the time we set off our numbers had swelled - we began our march through Cheapside to the Bank of England. The Spud mostly marched with the index finger of his free hand jammed firmly in his nostril, so I was quite glad when I reviewed the livestream (you can see our action from 2.16; it's worth watching to hear the speakers) later on to find that the walk itself wasn't broadcast. Plenty of people stopped to watch the rebels go by and to take photos. One motorist beeped his horn as we crossed the road; not sure if it was encouragement or derision. A cyclist pulled her bike over to applaud.

We arrived outside the Bank of England and spread out on the pavements on either side of the road. As soon as the police and our liasons halted traffic, the group rushed into the road itself, spread out our picnic blankets, and sat down, much to the surprise and exasperation of our police escort. There we remained for the next hour or so, forming a road block. The kids played together, made art, blew bubbles, and we all sang songs. A friend I sent pictures to commented on how peaceful it was compared to the bad rap XR get in the press. Several speakers gave talks, notably Caroline Lucas from the Green Party. The speaker from Afghanistan moved several people to tears, including me. 

At three o'clock, the rebels had agreed with the police we would move off the road, and we did exactly that, resuming our camp on the pavement outside Fortnum and Masons, where a panel of doctors and scientists had set up an 'emergency childcare meeting' at a pink table. By half past three the Spud was indicating that he had had enough, so we quietly gathered our things and headed back to the station. At least he had had fun sharing toys with a new friend, and perhaps we had inconvenienced one or two billionaires. I like to hope that we helped get the message across in some small way, but it seems to me that however loudly we sing, no one in power is listening.

Why the Bank of England?

From an email from Digital Rebellion, whose actions this week are also focussing on the Bank of England: "The Bank of England regulates and oversees the stability of The Uk's economy. It had the power to bail out the banks during the Banking Crisis and to supply billions of pounds in COVID loans this year. 

"To quote them: "Promoting the good of the people of the United Kingdom by maintaining monetary and financial stability."

"Did you know that billions of taxpayers' money during the pandemic was handed to Fossil Fuel companies in the shape of very low interest rate loans (0.3 to 0.7% interest) - adding to the Climate Disaster we’re facing? Did you know that the Bank of England also has its own investments and bonds in Fossil Fuel companies? 

"The Bank of England acts behind marble walls and layers of institutional secrecy - but our money is being spent on propping up the very companies responsible for pushing us over 1.5C degree warming into 3C and they have said it on their own website. The Bank of England could, overnight if they wished, refuse any financial institution in the UK to do business with Fossil Fools. Have they? Nope.

"Recently, the Bank of England has claimed to build a ‘Path to Net Zero’ but its actions fail to live up to even that hollow promise. We ask whether the Bank of England will stop funding fossil fuels? We ask whether it has a Climate Bail Out fund for the flooded cities, ruined businesses, and impoverished communities that the Climate Crisis will create? We ask whether it will ensure that UK insurance companies keep their promise? Because so far it has utterly failed us - despite telling us they work for the Good People of The United Kingdom they are still doing business as usual and funding Climate Change."