Standing With Standing Rock
Multinational Resistance to a Multinational Threat
by Jessie Landerman
Over the past year and a half, I’ve traveled to three continents to meet community leaders facing off against multinational corporations to defend their environmental and human rights. I’ve filmed stories in Mexico, Bolivia, Peru, and the Democratic Republic of Congo, where oil exploration, gold mining, and other megaprojects have wreaked havoc on the environment, destroyed livelihoods, claimed lives, and dissolved social fabric. As a human rights advocate and documentary filmmaker, my goal was to film and share their stories in order to connect communities impacted by mining and provide them with critical information, compelling stories and an avenue for global solidarity.
Because I was so focused on looking outside my own country, I failed to notice the inspiring and courageous movement unfolding against the Dakota Access Pipeline, and the deep and remarkable parallels to the struggles I’d witnessed around the world. I found the problems being articulated by concerned citizens, the tactics being employed by community leaders, and the values driving the resistance being echoed back to me from a year and a half of investigation.
In almost every location I visited, when I interviewed activists and community leaders, they asked me the same question: What was the situation was like in my country? Did we have the same problems? Did we suffer the same abuses? Were we able to defend our rights?
My answer always fell flat.
I’d say that yes, we have many of the same environmental and human rights abuses in the U.S. And yes, there are people fighting against them. But it was different. Problems at home felt too entrenched. Too many people were too disconnected from their environment to put their lives on the line. Standing Rock proved me wrong.
It’s been striking to see the solidarity in response to the Dakota Access Pipeline protests, with indigenous people representing nearly 300 tribes from the United States and around the world traveling to support the resistance. I was particularly moved to see representatives from Peru, where I recently filmed the community resistance efforts related to the Minas Conga gold mine project — if completed, it would be the largest open-pit mine in the world. And it would destroy a set of sacred lagoons that serve as the main source of water for the people of Cajamarca and Celendin.
To truly understand the international solidarity around the Dakota Access Pipeline protests — which some have noted is the largest tribal gathering since Little Bighorn in 1876 — you have to understand the pipeline not as a single, isolated project, but as part of a much larger global strategy. One that follows the same patterns whether targeting communities in Latin America, Africa, Asia, or the United States.
PROMISES, PROMISES
In North Dakota and around the world, the promise of jobs is regularly used as a way to gain entry to a community and its resources. The project developer, Dakota Access, claims it will create an estimated 4,000 construction jobs in North Dakota, and millions in tax revenue. In all of my research and outreach, I have yet to find a single case where community representatives felt that this promise of direct employment or overall economic benefits had been fulfilled. Instead, time and again, I heard stories of broken promises, disappointment, joblessness, and, in many cases, hunger and starvation.
I met mothers in Peru who have seen poverty increase since the introduction of mining — and along with it has come crime, prostitution, and sexually transmitted diseases. I heard from fathers in Zimbabwe who, after having their land seized for a diamond mine, no longer earn enough money to send their children to school. And I met grandmothers in the Democratic Republic of Congo who can no longer farm their land or even find clean water to drink, and struggle to feed their families. In every one of these cases, the communities were promised jobs through the mining project. In every case, they believed it. And in every case, that promise was broken.
NOT A DROP TO DRINK
A key reason that the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe opposes the Dakota Access crude oil pipeline is the threat it poses to the Missouri River. This fear of water contamination — and its devastating effects on health, economy, and livelihoods — was echoed by every single community I’ve encountered. And rightfully so. Pipelines routinely fail, spill or burst, and the impacts can be deadly. If you need proof, or have forgotten about the recent Colonial Pipeline leak or the Gulf oil spill, just look at this story from Nigeria, where I also produced a short video this year.
NO CONSENT, NO ACCESS
One of the legal complaints raised by the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe (and supported by the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues) rests on the right of indigenous peoples to free, prior and informed consent with regards to legislative or administrative measures that will affect their rights, lives and territory. However, as the Standing Rock case has demonstrated, this right isn’t always respected, and the process of consultation isn’t always sufficient.
The legal protections afforded indigenous peoples also introduce a conundrum: What about the rights of non-indigenous people, who also deserve decision-making power? Because extractive projects almost always target vulnerable communities, how can consent and decision making rights be expanded?
In Haiti and the Democratic Republic of Congo, the communities with which I’m working have little precedent to claim indigenous status, but they’re extremely vulnerable nonetheless. Meanwhile in South America, indigenous status is highly contested, precisely because the conception of indigeneity is associated with special rights and protections, and thus communities face obstacles when it comes to “proving” their indigenous status.
But having seen the often-catastrophic consequences of mining, I’ve come to believe that the right to free, prior and informed consent should apply to any community facing the prospect of a megaproject.
FIGHT FIRE WITH EVERYTHING
The tactics employed by extractive companies are the same the world around because they work. However, I was struck by the visual similarities between the images of the protests in South Dakota and images from protests in Peru to block the expansion of open-pit gold mining. In both countries, images depict the same peaceful gathering of civil disobedience, the same militarized police response, and even the same slogans.
Critically, these images also document a range of tactics that, in combination, have made each movement successful — directly occupying lands, in both instances, is one aspect of a multi-pronged strategy that also includes legal advocacy, media outreach, lobbying at various levels of government, and support from NGOs with legal expertise.
Evidence from communities around the world indicates that when average citizens take a stand against powerful multinational corporations, it’s that winning combination of public protest, legal action, media attention, and broad support that helps David to beat Goliath.
VICTORY THROUGH SOLIDARITY
As I watched more and more indigenous leaders join the fight in Standing Rock — including Ecuadorian environmental defenders, whose very tactics are the rule book of resistance — I was reminded that these cases are not individual. The arrival of the Sarayaku Ecuadorian delegation not only showed the power of global solidarity, but it shattered any perceived physical boundaries my mind still maintained separating cases of environmental and human rights abuse by extractive industries. These are not individual cases; they part of one big, global threat. And this requires a global solution.
To me, the solution is not just a tactical one that involves global organizing against extractives companies and their environmental abuses. It is also a philosophical change that demands a shift in our thinking and lifestyle, regardless of where we live. It’s not sufficient to “support” environmental defenders by paying lip service to their heroism. And it’s not fair that the burden of global environmental defense falls on the shoulders of the world’s most vulnerable communities, simply because they are the ones who fall within the cross hairs of multinational corporations. We must take a closer look at the values that drive this movement and embrace those values in our own lives.
Communities who’ve said no to mining have chosen instead to preserve social ties, cultural traditions, connectedness, spiritual life, and daily engagement with the earth. They’ve seen the non-material, non-quantifiable value of what they already have, rather than dismissing it in favor of the promise of a shiny new thing. Embracing these values and non-material considerations has implications for how we live our own lives, and can help guide our decisions in every area of our lives — from how much time we spend with our families to how many resources we consume. It’s time we started looking beyond the material and into what really matters.
