Most informed observers have been making the same observation for decades: the environmental movement has suffered one crushing defeat after another. We are losing the war. The guardians of industrialism — both the left and the right — are doing everything in their power to divide environmentalists, who pose the greatest threat to the techno-industrial order. If our enemies are able to divide us so easily, it is because the environmental movement has failed to establish a clear and unified goal. Nor has it developed a doctrine capable of uniting people across political, religious, geographical, monetary, and other divides. The inability of nature lovers to question themselves is all the more surprising given that certain pioneers of environmentalism in France were already voicing these criticisms more than 40 years ago.
This is the case with Bernard Charbonneau in The Green Light: A Self-Critique of the Ecological Movement (1980). In this book, although Charbonneau’s thinking lacks materialist pragmatism, he offers relevant avenues for reflection on how to increase the effectiveness of environmental action.
1) Set a clear objective and priorities: the environmental movement’s mission is to dismantle the techno-industrial system; under no circumstances is it to solve all of humanity’s problems, nor to build a better (let alone a perfect!) society. As Charbonneau puts it:
“We always come back to the true raison d’être of the environmental movement: not to establish paradise on earth, but to prevent hell from coming to earth.”
He adds:
“There’s only one way not to get overwhelmed by everything demanding our attention: set priorities.”
2) Stop dividing the environmental movement into its left and right wings: the more environmental issues become a major concern for the public, the more the left and right try to co-opt the movement. This has become a strategic issue in the quest for power, hence this increasingly visible infiltration. But as Charbonneau shows, maintaining a habitable planet has absolutely nothing to do with the values that traditionally drive the left and the right.
When environmentalists are divided over issues such as hunting, meat consumption, whether or not to use inclusive language and deconstructing one’s identity, they are helping to weaken the environmental movement. Indeed, the public, concerned about environmental degradation, is indifferent to these issues over which the left and right wings of the environmental movement are at loggerheads. This infighting only serves to ostracise environmentalism, making it detestable in the eyes of the masses.
True lovers of nature and freedom should set aside their minor differences in order to focus on building a movement capable of uniting as many people as possible and bringing about the downfall of the industrial system across the globe.
3) Formulating a doctrine capable of uniting as many people as possible: the ease with which environmentalists become divided stems, amongst other things, from a lack of a shared theory. Yet, as the great strategist Clausewitz teaches us in his work On War (1832), it is impossible to wage a campaign effectively without sharing a common perspective, without a common objective and without a strategy for achieving it. Charbonneau believes that the defence of nature and freedom is a goal capable of uniting as many people as possible across the globe, transcending their ethnic, political, religious and other differences.
To explore these topics in greater depth, several selected excerpts from Charbonneau’s book have been reproduced below by the Greenwashing Economy team.
On the single objective (p. 158)
The ecological project has but one aim: to thwart a totalitarian enterprise that is all the more dangerous for encompassing the entire planet; unlike that of Hitler and Stalin, it does not even need to state this openly. The environmental movement is compelled to envisage a total revolution for precisely the opposite reason to that which gave rise to politico-religious totalitarianisms: through a rejection of absolute power, both spiritual and temporal. Its overall project is not – and must not be – dictated by a passion to know and dominate everything; inspired by a love of nature and freedom, it is nevertheless determined by the situation and the adversary. The ecological revolution, like our times themselves, bears little resemblance to those that preceded it. Any action to combat the decay or wholesale takeover of the human planet must therefore never lose sight of its paradoxical nature: total, yet not totalitarian.
[…]
It is out of love for the fundamental reality – life on earth – and for the highest human aspiration – to remain and become free – that the ecological revolt is driven to a radical conversion – a U-turn. Ecological action is the epitome of revolutionary action, if by that we mean going against the grain of the social order and its future course. That is why it has no reason to adopt the trappings and rhetoric of modern (?) revolutions. In terms of breaking with the status quo, alas, it is all too revolutionary by its very nature.
By calling for respect for the Earth’s ecosystem — which made the emergence of life and humankind possible — ecology, by that very act, challenges the social order far more than socialism and communism, the heirs to the values of industrial and bourgeois society, which are content to demand state control and the socialization of economic development. It rejects not only the religion of profit, but also that of production and profitability; not only the reign of multinational corporations, but also that of industry. The principle of ecology is subversive; even if an ecologist is moderate, they can only remain so by compromising their truth. We start by defending trees and cute animals; we end up clashing with the CEO and the prefect. We fight for a marsh and against a housing project; we end up questioning population growth. How can we abandon a marina or factory project without abandoning the taboo of employment? We denounce pollution, but how can we put an end to pollution in the Rhine without addressing the issue of Europe? And pollution in the ocean without questioning the global government—which alone seems capable of preventing a planetary catastrophe? To save nature, how can we avoid entrusting its management to a synarchy of technocrats like that of the Club of Rome, which would be its exact antithesis? How can we imagine an international institution with any real power that would respect the freedom and diversity of peoples and individuals? Starting from the experience of local realities, we arrive at the universal problems of the human condition. Ecology is relentless; it leads you to the ultimate questions concerning the meaning of life and the social contract.
The ecological issue is indivisible; it is compelled to follow its line of inquiry to its logical conclusion. It cannot address the devastation of the Earth by humankind without challenging its driving force: science, and its legacy: technology.
Beyond the Right and the Left (p. 108)
Faced with the destruction of nature — which, within such a system, only the defense of freedom can prevent — the environmental movement must reject the polemical debate that pits a conservative right against a libertarian left, even within its own ranks. On the contrary, it must unite around a defense of the earth that is also a defense of humanity. By ceasing to pit one against the other while remaining true to itself, it will prove realistic for many reasons. For by uniting nature with human freedom, the environmental movement embraces both the principles that explain all the vicissitudes of today’s world and the two most powerful motivations capable of stirring the human spirit. It no longer offers a half-truth, but a life and a faith that are whole. Whereas by limiting itself to one or the other—by depriving itself of half its reasons—it risks losing most of its potential adherents: for example, if it defends flora and fauna while refusing to reach out to genuine farmers, hunters, or fishermen, who are its natural allies.
In the age of God’s death, nature and freedom — belonging to the earth and the right of every human being to be themselves — are the only things that can form the basis of a consensus that is both personal and universal. Any other basis can only lead to war between individuals, classes, nations, or churches. On the other hand, let our bodies perish if the air and water are poisoned, let our spirits dissolve if the individual is denied any identity and existence of his own—these are the two ultimate truths. And these two are one and the same, standing firm on these two pillars and becoming capable of movement.
Man and his earth, distinct yet united in his consciousness and his work, constitute the sole foundation of political action and a social project that can save one only through the other. And it is the tension between these contradictory yet indissolubly united terms — like body and mind — that constitutes the richness and vitality of the person or community that unites them. For it is no longer a ready-made truth — the logical automatism of a monistic ideology that generates the certainties necessary for action — but a perpetual critical renewal drawing from two poles, much like those of a single planet.
Man is nature and freedom just as he is society and the individual — I believe that at the end of a necessarily forceful argument, one can dispense with the underlining of the conjunction. When he denies this in one way or another, he falls apart. Without his freedom, nature is not even a word, and his freedom is but a phantom when it rejects its fleshly, earthly body. But when, pushing itself to the limit, it accepts it, then the spirit becomes flesh, and a second Genesis begins.
Towards a revolutionary doctrine of ecology (p. 110)
We know only too well where the nihilism of rushing blindly into the mist as a group leads. Without an overarching vision, a movement is blind. In the absence of a doctrine (though I would rather call it a Weltanschauung) that sheds light on the bigger picture – human freedom and the earth – ecology risks being paralysed, if not torn apart, between its left and right wings; or at the very least, it risks remaining mired in superficial confusion that will leave it defenceless against its adversary, who will sooner or later co-opt it.
The very label “ecology”, borrowed from a specialised science, shows just how incomplete the analysis is, particularly regarding the role of science in development. For many reasons, reflection is necessary, yet it has only just begun. The environmental movement is barely ten years old, whereas socialism has had more than a century to debate and refine its project. And whilst it has challenged the economic structure of a bourgeois society far more basic than our own, it has done so in the name of its own values of science, education, work and progress. On the other hand, environmentalism tackles an infinitely more complex social organisation that encompasses the whole, the repercussions of which are far-reaching – not only economic and social, but biological as well as intellectual and spiritual. It is truly a world that it is confronting, since the planet itself is at stake: and what is more, it is changing at every moment. Undoubtedly, never before in human history have people been forced, in such a short space of time, to undergo such a comprehensive revolution; and, consequently, to some extent, a revolution in the values of the age.
[…]
One can only build on a solid foundation: if one has even the slightest clarity about oneself, one’s situation and what one wishes to make of it. And this fundamental self-examination is necessary for action for another reason. Barring a nuclear disaster or some other catastrophe that might turn public opinion on its head, the environmental movement must rely on itself. The strength of a nascent movement lies less in external circumstances (numbers, material power and influence over the public) than within itself: in the vigour and quality of the spiritual, moral and rational motivations of its members, without which such an endeavour would lack a driving force. A movement takes root first and foremost in the personal convictions of its members. The stronger these convictions are, the more robust and vibrant the movement will be, because it draws its lifeblood from countless, deep rootlets. If, for each individual, the reason for taking action is truly a matter of life and death — for which the chances of success are merely secondary — then the movement will withstand setbacks and the wear and tear of time. And it is conviction that sparks the imagination; it is what ensures that, by banging our heads against the wall time and again, we discover or invent the crack that makes the impossible possible. And if, by misfortune, a serious crisis were to break out – which is quite possible given the current chaos – it is the strength of one’s convictions that will enable one to weather the storm, whilst facing the loneliness and risks of clandestine action. Each individual’s inner strength is the last bastion of a movement in times of turmoil. By contrast, those who identify solely with their organisation – such as the German Social Democrats in 1933 – vanish like a ghost at the first sign of trouble.
The energy of personal motivations – living faith, the antithesis of ideologies or mythologies that are merely cement to fill a void – alone can lead people to unite with others despite the diversity of their religious, professional or national backgrounds. The more vivid and deeply rooted a conviction is, the less it needs an ideological armour, ready-made truths or a pre-established framework to defend itself; the less it fears criticism and closes itself off from others. It alone can inspire what is neither a dogma nor an organisation, but an alliance. Realism compels us to recognise that the environmental movement brings together participants who are very diverse in terms of character, age, background and concerns. This is both its strength and its challenge. Unless everyone steps outside their area of specialism or their own little corner, environmental action will fragment into various, parallel and competing institutions. This fragmentation can only be avoided by being fully aware of the unity of the industrial phenomenon and the reasons for combating it. Whilst being perfectly clear about what sets us apart, so that we may be all the more clear – without falsehood or illusions this time – about what unites us. An association in which agreement emerges from differences is a great and difficult novelty; yet a world that threatens them all compels us to do so. Let us remember that there is no stronger motive capable of uniting the most diverse of people than the threat of the total destruction of nature and freedom. It is up to us to keep this constantly in mind, even if it is sometimes hard to look this black sun in the face.
Bernard Charbonneau
