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AP/Mike Groll
A
protester raises a fist during a rally against hydraulic fracturing of
natural gas wells at the Legislative Office Building in Albany, N.Y., in
2012.
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The Saboteurs
Dec 2, 2013 | Truthdig | Chris Hedges
CALGARY, Canada—Oil and natural gas
drilling in the province of Alberta has turned Calgary in a boomtown.
Glittering skyscrapers, monuments to the obscene profits amassed by a
fossil fuel industry that is exploiting the tar sands and the vast oil
and natural gas fields in Alberta, have transformed Calgary into a mecca
for money, dirty politics, greed and industry jobs. The city is as
soulless and sterile as Houston. The death of the planet, for a few, is
very good for business.
The man who waged North America’s first significant war against
hydraulic fracturing was from Alberta, an eccentric, messianic Christian preacher named
Wiebo Ludwig
who died last year. He, with his small Christian community in the
remote north of the province, sabotaged at least one wellhead by pouring
cement down its shaft and blew up others. The Canadian authorities,
along with the oil and gas barons, demonize Ludwig as an ecoterrorist,
an odd charge given that they are the ones responsible for
systematically destroying the environment and the planet. And as the
ecosystem deteriorates—and the drive by corporations to extract the last
remaining natural resources from the earth, even if it kills us all,
becomes more and more relentless—the resistance of Wiebo Ludwig is worth
remembering.
“Wiebo felt that our society was in a
spiritual crisis, rather than an environmental or an economic crisis,”
David York, whose film
“Wiebo’s War”
is a nuanced portrayal of Ludwig and his fight with the oil and gas
industry, told me when I reached him in Toronto by email. “He felt that
our addiction to fossil fuels, rampant consumerism and materialism,
addictions, breakdown of family units were all symptoms of a society
that has lost its root connection to God. Further, he felt that we are
in a kind of end times state, where the forces of good are in a terrible
struggle with the forces of evil. He wasn’t so crass as to put a
timetable on it, but in his view ‘any fool can see the times.’ ”
That one of our era’s most effective
figures of resistance against the oil and gas industry was a devout
Christian is perhaps not coincidental. I do not share Ludwig’s Christian
fundamentalism—his community was a rigid patriarchy—but I do share his
belief that when human law comes into conflict with God’s law, human law
must be defied. Ludwig grasped the moral decadence of the consumer
society, its unchecked hedonism, worship of money and deadening cult of
the self. He retreated in 1985 with his small band of followers into the
remoteness of northern Alberta. His community, called Trickle Creek,
was equipped with its own biodiesel refinery, windmills and solar
panels—which permitted it to produce its own power—a greenhouse and a
mill. Its members, who grew their own food, severed themselves from the
contaminants of consumer culture. But like the struggle of Axel Heyst,
the protagonist in Joseph Conrad’s novel “Victory,” Ludwig’s flight from
evil only ensured that evil came to him.
Ludwig’s farm happened to be atop one of
the largest oil and gas reserves in the world. In Canada when you own
land you own only the top six inches of soil; the mineral rights below
it belong to the state and can be sold without the knowledge or
acquiescence of the landowner. Beneath Ludwig’s farm lay a fossil fuel
known as
sour gas, a neurotoxin that if released from within the earth can, even in small amounts, poison livestock, water tables and people.
“Wherever a man goes, men will pursue and paw him with their dirty
institutions,” wrote Henry David Thoreau. And this is what happened to
Ludwig.
The oil and gas companies soon began a
massive drilling effort. At first, like many other reformers and
activists, Ludwig used legal and political channels to push back against
the companies, which were drilling on the edge of his 160-acre farm. He
spent the first five years attending hearings with civil regulators,
writing letters—he even wrote to Jane Fonda—and appealing in vain to
elected officials, government agencies, the press, environmentalists and
first nations
groups. His family—he had 11 children—posted a sign in 1990 that decried
“the ruthless interruption and cessation” of privacy; “the relentless
greedy grabbing of Creational resources”; “the caloused [sic] disregard
for the sanctity of the Lord’s Day”; the legislation of land and mineral
ownership policy “that does violence to the God-given ‘right to
property.’ ” Ludwig then presented the offending oil company,
Ranchmen’s, with a bill for the sign.
“He was primarily motivated by his love for
his family and a strong sense of justice,” said Andrew Nikiforuk, the
author of a good book on Ludwig called
“Saboteurs: Wiebo Ludwig’s War Against Big Oil.”
I had dinner with Nikiforuk last week in Calgary. He told me: “It did
not seem right to him that the oil industry could park a drilling well
for sour gas in view of his family’s communal dining room. ‘Is a man not
even master in his own house, let alone his own land, on matters like
these?’ ”
“His war against industry illustrated the
cost of our addiction to hydrocarbons: Our materialistic way of life is
based on the destruction of groundwater, the devaluing of rural
property, the invasion of rural communities, the poisoning of skies with
carcinogens, the fragmentation of landscapes,” Nikiforuk said. “Urban
people do not understand the sacrifices now being imposed on rural
people.”
Ludwig’s first acts of sabotage were minor.
He laid down nail beds on roads. He smashed solar panels. He blocked
roads by downing trees. He disabled vehicles and drilling equipment. But
after two leaks of hydrogen sulfide sour gas from nearby wells—which
forced everyone on the farm to evacuate and saw numerous farm animals
giving birth to deformed or stillborn offspring, as well as five human
miscarriages or stillbirths within Ludwig’s community—and after the
destruction of two of his water wells, he declared open war on the oil
and gas industry. He began to blow up oil and gas facilities. He said he
had to fight back to “protect his children.”
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police,
accompanied by private security agents hired by the oil companies, spent
millions to investigate and attempt to halt the sabotage. Ludwig’s farm
was occupied by police five times and searched for incriminating
evidence. The police and Encana Corp. infiltrated Ludwig’s tight
community with an agent provocateur who, to prove he could be trusted,
blew up a well owned by what was then Alberta Energy Corp., now Encana.
The explosion, although orchestrated by the police and Encana, was
publicly blamed on Ludwig. The oil company also brought in a “terrorism
expert” from Toronto to speak at local town hall gatherings—York
captures one of those talks in his film—and the expert warned residents
of the rising “terrorism” of religious cults led by fanatic, charismatic
leaders.
Ludwig was undeterred. “People are talking
here that maybe someone should be shooting guys in pinstripe suits to
get them to stop,” he said.
Ludwig, whose knowledge of the terrain
allowed him to outfox hundreds of police officers, was never caught in
an act of sabotage, but he probably had a hand in damage at hundreds of
remote well sites estimated at $12 million. The federal government in
Ottawa, in desperation, considered sending in the army. Ludwig was
finally arrested in 2000 on five counts of property damage and
possession of explosives and imprisoned for 18 months. He spent his time
in prison reading a treatise in Dutch on the nature of hell.
Ludwig referred to the biblical story of
David and Goliath in justifying his struggle against colossal forces,
saying “the war is won before it is fought.” He believed that if you
fought for righteousness you always were ensured spiritual victory, even
if you were defeated in the eyes of the world. “It’s not size,” he
said. “It’s whether a man is right or not. The fight is won on
principle.” In his home he kept a poster of activist and journalist
Ken Saro-Wiwa,
a Nigerian hanged in 1995 after he campaigned against Shell Oil’s
exploitation of his country. The poster read: “The environment is man’s
first right. Without a clean environment man cannot exist to claim other
rights be they political, social or economic.”
Ludwig once invited visiting civil servants who worked for oil and gas
regulators to dinner. He fed them homemade cheeses, preserves, jams and
wild cranberry wine. The pièce de résistance, which Ludwig unveiled with
his usual flair, was the skull of a horse killed by sour gas. “It’s
just a symbol of all the death we’ve had around here,” he informed his
startled guests.
On another occasion he dumped noxious sour crude on the carpet in the office of local regulators to see if it “bothered” them.
The sabotage did not end with Ludwig’s 2012 death. There are reports of ongoing sabotage along the path of the
XL pipeline and in the Alberta oil fields.
“I’d also say that sabotage in the oil
patch is one of the oil and gas industry’s dirty little secrets,” York
said. “It is widespread, and to many landowners it is a natural
consequence of the industry’s attitudes and behavior to those whose land
they are occupying. The industry doesn’t make a big fuss because they
don’t want to encourage the response.”
But violence begets violence. And the more Ludwig blew up facilities the harsher became the intrusion of the state.
“Meeting industrial violence against
livestock and families with more industrial violence against oil and gas
installations is not the answer,” said Nikiforuk. “It is an act of
frustration as well as a reflection of the captured state of regulators.
And it submits an entire community to a reign of industry- and
state-sanctioned terror. A second war broke out in the bush in the 2000s
during an intense period of hydraulic fracking. Six bombings occurred
at Encana well sites in northern British Columbia just 50 kilometers
from Ludwig’s farm. The government sent in 250 officers to investigate.
They treated rural citizens like members of the Taliban. The campaign
ended as mysteriously as it began and had all the earmarks of Ludwig. It
did not change industry practices.”
Ludwig’s gravest mistake was his decision,
or the decision of someone in his small community, to fire on two trucks
carrying rowdy teenagers. The sons and daughters of oil and gas workers
roared through the group’s compound at about 4 a.m. on June 20, 1999.
Karman Willis, a 16-year-old girl, was fatally shot by someone on the
farm, and a second teenager survived a wound. York in his film shows
Ludwig family members repeating like automatons that they thought they
were under attack because the backfiring of the vehicles sounded like
gunshots. No one on the farm took responsibility for the shooting, and
no one was charged. The killing of the girl saw the neighboring
communities cut off Ludwig and his band in revulsion. Local businesses
put up signs that read: “No Service for Ludwigs.”
Ludwig, before he died at age 71 after
refusing chemotherapy for esophageal cancer, turned away from violence.
The renunciation came a year or two after his final bombing campaign. He
would read, with his family, Jacques Ellul’s 1969 book
“Violence: Reflections From a Christian Perspective.” Ellul, like Ludwig’s Dutch father, had fought in the resistance against the Nazis in World War II.
“What constantly marked the life of Jesus
was not nonviolence but in every situation the choice not to use power,”
he wrote. “This is infinitely different.”
“The Christian should participate in social
and political efforts in order to have an influence in the work, not
with the hope of making a paradise (of the earth), but simply to make it
more tolerable—not to diminish the opposition between this world and
the Kingdom of God, but simply to modify the opposition between the
disorder of this world and the order of preservation that God wants it
to have—not to bring in the Kingdom of God, but so that the Gospel might
be proclaimed in order that all men might truly hear the good news,”
Ellul wrote.
Ludwig said: “We feel weak in all the
things we are fighting. I think the match is very unequal. But it’s all
right. Instead of griping about it, we might as well give ourselves to
it.”