Unexpected Environmental Alliances Amidst the Oil Spill: 'Jesus Will Rip Your Head Off'

In
the wake of the BP disaster, we've heard powerful stories from fishermen
whose
livelihoods may have been destroyed for decades or longer. However long
it
takes for the Gulf's fish, oyster and shrimp harvests to recover, those
who've
made their livelihoods harvesting them will need to create a powerful
common
voice if they're not going to continue to be made expendable. A powerful
model
comes from Seattle and Alaska
salmon fisherman Pete Knutson, who has spent thirty-five years engaging
his
community to take environmental responsibility, creating unexpected
alliances
to broaden the impact of their voice, and in the process defeating
massive
corporate interests.

"You'd
have
a hard time spawning, too, if you had a bulldozer in your bedroom,"
Pete reminds us, explaining the destruction of once-rich salmon spawning
grounds by commercial development and timber industry clearcutting. Pete
could
have simply accepted this degradation as inevitable, focusing on getting
a
maximum share of dwindling fish populations. Instead, he's gradually
built an
alliance between fishermen, environmentalists, and Native American
tribes,
persuading them to work collectively to demand that habitat be preserved
and
restored and to use the example of the salmon runs to highlight larger
issues
like global climate change.

The
cooperation Pete created didn't come easily: Washington's fishermen were
historically
individualistic and politically mistrustful, more inclined, in Pete's
judgment,
"to grumble or blame the Indians than to act." But together, with
their new allies, they gradually began to push for cleaner spawning
streams,
rigorous enforcement of the Endangered Species Act, and an increased
flow of
water over major regional dams to help boost salmon runs. They framed
their
arguments as a question of jobs, ones that could be sustained for the
indefinite future. But large industrial interests, such as the aluminum
companies, feared that these measures would raise their electricity
costs or
restrict their opportunities for development. So they bankrolled a
statewide
initiative to regulate fishing nets in a way that would eliminate small
family
fishing operations.

"I
think we may be toast," said Pete, when Initiative 640 first surfaced.
In
an Orwellian twist, its backers even presented the measure as
environmentally
friendly, to mislead casual voters. It was called "Save Our Sealife,"
although fishermen and environmentalists soon rechristened it "Save Our
Smelters." At first, those opposing 640 thought they had no chance of
success: They were outspent, outstaffed, outgunned. Similar initiatives
had
already passed in Florida, Louisiana,
and Texas,
backed by similar industrial interests. I remember Pete sitting in a
Seattle tavern with two
fisherman friends, laughing bitterly and saying, "The three of us are
going to take on the aluminum companies? We're going to beat Reynolds
and
Kaiser?"

JESUS
WILL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF

But
they refused to give up. Instead, Pete and his coworkers systematically
enlisted the region's major environmental groups to campaign against the
initiative. They'd built up longstanding working relationships, so
getting them
involved was easy. They also brought in the Native American tribes, with
whom
they'd also painstakingly built coalitions and with whom they were now
accustomed to working with.

Equally
important,
they enlisted some unexpected allies. When a local affiliate of the
fundamentalist Trinity Broadcasting Network broadcast a segment
supporting
Initiative 640, a fisherman who was a member of the highly conservative
Assembly of God churches and who Pete had helped get engaged, called the
reporter. "Do you know who Jesus's disciples were? he asked. "They
were fishermen. What do you think Jesus is going to do when he comes
back and
finds out you've stopped people from making a living by fishing? He's
going to
rip your head off."

Taken
aback, the reporter apologized and Trinity gave the fishermen a half
hour to
make their case on the show. Later this same fisherman, together with
some
others, persuaded his minister to give an invocation against corporate
greed on
the steps of the Washington State Capitol and to send a letter
challenging the
initiative to three hundred Assembly of God congregations. "We've got to
keep approaching the Pentecostals," Pete said, later on, thinking back
on
the campaign. "Lots of their members are getting economically screwed.
They mistrust the giant corporations. But if we don't reach out to them
and
establish some dialogue, they're going to be pulled into the right-wing
coalitions."

Pete's
group
also worked with the media to explain the larger issues at stake. And
they focused public attention on the measure's powerful financial
backers, and
their self-serving stake in its outcome. On Election Night, remarkably,
Initiative 640 was defeated throughout the state. White fishermen,
Pentecostals, Native American activists, and Friends of the Earth
staffers
threw their arms around each other in victory. "I'm really proud of you,
Dad," Pete's son kept repeating. Pete was stunned.

"Everyone
felt
it was hopeless," Pete said, looking back, "just as people say
the Gulf fishermen don't have a chance when they go up against BP for
the
destruction of their livelihood. The Exxon Valdez spill just destroyed
the
value of our product for years, and the same thing is likely in the
Gulf. But
you have to stand up whatever the odds. If we were going to lose that
initiative, I wanted at least to put up a good fight. And we won because
of all
the earlier work we'd done, year after year, to build our environmental
relationships, get some credibility, and show that we weren't just in it
for
ourselves."

We
often think of social involvement as noble but impractical. Yet as
Pete's story
attests, when we reach out broadly enough to find new allies, it can
serve
enlightened self-interest and the common interest simultaneously, while
giving
us a sense of connection and purpose nearly impossible to find in a life
devoted purely to private pursuits. "It takes energy to act," said
Pete. "But it's more draining to bury your anger, convince yourself
you're
powerless, and swallow whatever's handed to you. The times I've
compromised my
integrity and accepted something I shouldn't, the ghosts of my choices
have
haunted me. When you get involved in something meaningful, you make your
life
count. It blows my mind that we beat these huge interests starting out
with
just a small group of people who felt it was wrong to tell lies."