26^th August 2009, LondonWe don't have to save the world. The world is big enough to look after itself. What we have to be concerned about is whether or not the world we live in will be capable of sustaining us in it..." - Douglas Adams.
Words & pics: Will Jobbins
We're all aware of the impending doom we face as a result of climate change, right? Even the most blasé of environmental analysts are admitting that we face some very choppy waters ahead. As the planet warms, so the ambient temperature rises, which must and will eventually lead to serious problems - massive crop failures, water shortages, rising sea levels, catastrophic weather events and all kinds of non-rosy things that will make our lives not only rather unpleasant, but also extremely precarious. It is only relatively recently that we've become aware of precisely how delicately we are poised on the knife edge of existence, and yet the impetus for change, for damage limitation, seems very slow to pick up at the highest levels of government.

And in this human-dominated world where the population is exploding, if we are all to continue to survive then there are massive changes that need to be made very soon. Immediately, in fact. Well, probably twenty years ago, actually, but better late than never eh?

Sadly it seems that billions of people and countless animals, plants and landscapes could be already doomed. Glacial retreat threatens to dry up the water supplies of the Indian subcontinent and China, whilst rising sea levels may well permanently flood lowland swamp regions such as Bangladesh. As Africa's climate grows hotter, so the crops will fail more often, leading to famines. As millions starve, so the survivors will fight over what little food and water remains. War seems likely, as desperate nations throw everything in their arsenal - maybe even nuclear weapons - at their neighbours in an attempt to steal the last beer from the fridge.

And we in the 'civilised' West will not be simply observing from our safe plateau, sitting on our piles of ready cash. As global society fractures, our food, oil and gas imports will dry up. We will be left to rely on our own farmers for sustenance - those same farmers which people are so quick to ignore at the moment in favour of cheap vegetables from the supermarket, which imports them from Asia. We will struggle, as the price of meat rockets through the roof because of the time and space needed to produce it. We will have to burn wood for warmth in the winter, as our oil and gas reserves are drained and the pipelines cease to operate - what little wood we have left in England, at least. Most of the country's forest has been cleared for farming and for property development.

Okay, okay. Much of the above is absolute worst-case scenario - Doomsday stuff. However, much of it is also - well, if not probable, then at least possible. And our governments, our politicians and our world leaders are being either extremely naïve or terribly blasé about it. Either way, we are all very badly prepared for what is to come.

But all is not lost. On the 26^th of August, a couple of thousand people were waiting at varying rallying points around London, placards, tents and drums in hand, waiting for the text message to reveal the location of the London Climate Camp. We waited in the sunshine outside the Bank of England, ignoring the amused sneers of the City workers. "Always moaning about something, ain't they?" said one as they walked past.

Eventually the text message came in - trucks had occupied Blackheath, the historical protest venue where Wat Tyler rallied the Peasant's Revolt, and which also acted as a venue for the Kentish rebellion of 1450 and even as a focal point for the suffragette movement. The police were standing off and allowing the Climate Camp pathfinders to start setting up the infrastructure of the camp. The swoop was on! We piled on to the Docklands Light Railway, and were again subjected to comments like "Get a job..." from passers-by. We passed through the cavernous metal and glass belly of Canary Wharf and out of the other side, down onto the Isle of Dogs. Once at Cutty Sark, we climbed the escalators, crossed the road and started the long walk up the hill. There had appeared to be about one hundred people outside the Bank of England in the 'Yellow' group, but suddenly it seemed as if there were thousands behind us. As far as you could see in both directions was a sea of Climate Campers, some singing, some taking photos and some drumming on djembes.

By the time we arrived at the site, the perimeter fence had been erected and large 'tripod' defence structures made from poles lashed together at the top had been knocked up. Large marquees were going up and even as I watched, a makeshift kitchen came together and suddenly there were dreadlocked hippies peeling potatoes, ready to feed the troops. People were filtering in constantly, and at 4pm a meeting was held, welcoming the recruits to the camp and delegating various tasks to Campers. Considering the Climate Camp's 'leaderless' approach to organisation, things were going very smoothly. The atmosphere was fantastic - everyone appeared to be very excited about the chance to combine their efforts to develop the Camp.


As I left, night was falling and the Camp was settling down for its first night on Blackheath. The makeshift soundsystems were slowly shutting down, to be replaced by acoustic guitars and drums. The plan was to hold Blackheath until at least the following Tuesday - six days - during which time the Campers would be able to attend training workshops and seminars covering everything from compost toilet construction to demonstration tactics, and many would go out into the City of London to initiate direct action protest against corporate targets.

But I left with a heavy heart. Whilst it was amazing to see so many people pulling together in order to combat climate change and the corporate governmental policies which seem intent on destroying the planet, it was painfully obvious that these people were a tiny drop in the ocean. A tiny voice shouting in the face of an enormous storm. Just 3000 people out of 65 million? What are the other 64,997,000 people doing? Ignoring things and hoping it'll all go away?


If change is to happen, the wider population need to stop seeing these Climate Camps as the 'attention-seeking actions of jobless swampies' (as one City Worker remarked to me) and realise that these activists, above almost all other people in the country, are actually trying to do something about the terrifying impending situation, and that they should be respected and supported, rather than ridiculed.

A message scrawled in marker pen on a small bunting flag outside the Bank of England said it all: