Not being content with one action against a coal freighter heading to Israel, our good friends at Greenpeace struck again: this time, a week later, and on land. Eight activists landed on the Hadera coal terminal and swiftly proceeded to occupy the loading cranes outside the plant, and another team moved in to paint slogans in Hebrew and English on the side of the ship that was unloading coal. See a few of the picture highlights here.
18 July 2010
13 July 2010
Canada's Tarsands: The Human Impact
Following last week's enthusiastic reception of the first part of the Canada Tarsands story, aCurator has now published the second and final part. Seeing the plight of the First Nations communities downriver from the industry is something that has become an issue close to my heart. To expose and publicise their cause something of a mission, and a good reason to do the job I do.
8 July 2010
Greenpeace 1 - Israel 0
In the spirit of the current world cup fever, my good friends at Greenpeace scored the first goal this morning by stopping a coal shipment into Israel. Boarding the 290-metre long Orient Venus at the crack of dawn, the operation went smooth as clockwork: three activists were on board within minutes, and pictures travelled to the world's media without a hitch in time for the breakfast news in Europe. Life could hardly be better here on board the Rainbow Warrior right now...
6 July 2010
Canada's Tarsands: Mining the World's Dirtiest Oil
Over at aCurator, run by the lovely Julie Grahame, the first part of my reportage on Canada's Tarsands has just been published. Featuring a full-screen slideshow of my images, I can't help but oogle at the slick design and prominent display of these large images taken during the past few years.
The first part of this story, published today, focuses on the tarsands industry and its impact on the environment. The second set of images examines the uneasy coexistence between the First Nations people living downstream from this giant and destructive industry, due to be published this coming Thursday.
I first came across the Alberta tarsands on assignment for WWF in 2007 and again in 2009 on several trips on behalf of Greenpeace. My first impression of the industry in northern Alberta was one of grandiose developments, in a negative sense of the word. Mining and energy extraction are never pretty, but the scale and pace at which big oil is operating in Canada is truly staggering. How could it be that Canada, widely regarded as a friendly, environmentally conscious and ‘nice’ country condones such destructive projects in its own backyard?
The first part of this story, published today, focuses on the tarsands industry and its impact on the environment. The second set of images examines the uneasy coexistence between the First Nations people living downstream from this giant and destructive industry, due to be published this coming Thursday.
I first came across the Alberta tarsands on assignment for WWF in 2007 and again in 2009 on several trips on behalf of Greenpeace. My first impression of the industry in northern Alberta was one of grandiose developments, in a negative sense of the word. Mining and energy extraction are never pretty, but the scale and pace at which big oil is operating in Canada is truly staggering. How could it be that Canada, widely regarded as a friendly, environmentally conscious and ‘nice’ country condones such destructive projects in its own backyard?
One answer I found whilst talking to people was cultural: whilst most Europeans, and indeed many people around the globe live with a notion of resource scarcity, Canadians apparently take the opposite approach: abundance. The mining pits, steam and upgrader plants north of Fort McMurray are truly gigantic, the impression of a stinking moonscape poisoned with toxis tailings and the sounds of cannons designed to scare off migratory birds apparent to anyone who ventures half an hour north along Highway 63. How on earth would anyone in their right mind condone this doomsday scenario?
Apparenty, Canada has plenty of it all, and wasting an estimated 10-15% of its Boreal Forest, one of the last, prime forests left on the planet is not an issue. In my own cynical mind, this scene would have not surprised me if it had been in say Nigeria, Azerbaijan, Kazachstan, Bangladesh or any other place governed by big oil – I have seen similar sights in other parts of the world – but to witness this in the First World, where one would assume the existence of a functional society with a healthy respect for civil rights, for its environment and its people was humbling.
You can take a view on the destruction of the land, the size and scale of things to come in the next decades – the projects already designed, approved and underway will occupy an area the size of Florida. However, the province of Alberta alone is roughly equivalent to the size of France: if you take off from Calgary, you’ll fly for at least two hours before reaching Fort McMurray, the epicentre of oil developments, and you’re still in Alberta. To sacrifice a proportion of that for petrodollars, jobs and prosperity is an obvious and well-rehearsed choice seen the world over.
However, what got me most is the blatant disregard for the people living downstream from this deadly industry: Canada’s First Nations. Gentle, soft-spoken, patient, suffering yet by and large indecisive, they are the true losers here. Several communities living along Lake Athabasca have been ravaged by cancers unheard of before oil developments began on a large scale. Their water is not safe to drink, the numbers of fish, migratory birds, moose, bear and other wildlife have shrunk and are no longer safe to eat, their ancient way of life seems to be over for good. I find it hard to accept and reconcile this with the notion of a democratic, first world government that Canada claims to have – this scenario feels more at home in the darkest periods of colonisation many of us have hoped were condemned to the past, to a chapter in the history books.
I hope that the images I present will give you a notion of how alive that history still is today.
Apparenty, Canada has plenty of it all, and wasting an estimated 10-15% of its Boreal Forest, one of the last, prime forests left on the planet is not an issue. In my own cynical mind, this scene would have not surprised me if it had been in say Nigeria, Azerbaijan, Kazachstan, Bangladesh or any other place governed by big oil – I have seen similar sights in other parts of the world – but to witness this in the First World, where one would assume the existence of a functional society with a healthy respect for civil rights, for its environment and its people was humbling.
You can take a view on the destruction of the land, the size and scale of things to come in the next decades – the projects already designed, approved and underway will occupy an area the size of Florida. However, the province of Alberta alone is roughly equivalent to the size of France: if you take off from Calgary, you’ll fly for at least two hours before reaching Fort McMurray, the epicentre of oil developments, and you’re still in Alberta. To sacrifice a proportion of that for petrodollars, jobs and prosperity is an obvious and well-rehearsed choice seen the world over.
However, what got me most is the blatant disregard for the people living downstream from this deadly industry: Canada’s First Nations. Gentle, soft-spoken, patient, suffering yet by and large indecisive, they are the true losers here. Several communities living along Lake Athabasca have been ravaged by cancers unheard of before oil developments began on a large scale. Their water is not safe to drink, the numbers of fish, migratory birds, moose, bear and other wildlife have shrunk and are no longer safe to eat, their ancient way of life seems to be over for good. I find it hard to accept and reconcile this with the notion of a democratic, first world government that Canada claims to have – this scenario feels more at home in the darkest periods of colonisation many of us have hoped were condemned to the past, to a chapter in the history books.
I hope that the images I present will give you a notion of how alive that history still is today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)