Logging in Ecuador’s Yasuni National Park is putting the isolated indigenous populations at risk.
José Poraño, from Land Is Life, stated this is the interview linked above – ” Waoranis, Kichwas from Sarayacu, Zaparas, Kichwas from the region, and settlers too. . . We don’t know if the Taromenanes [one of the indigenous groups in “isolation”] will respond like they have in the past – with attacks, violence – to defend their territories. Rather than attack the loggers, they might attack local people, particularly if they take part [in the logging], as has happened in the past. That’s very possible. Due to how abandoned the region is. The state has almost no presence there. There are no economic opportunities for local people. . . [and so] the only economic opportunity right now in the Curaray region is illegal logging. We’re concerned that the communities could become involved.”
For eco-radicals the topic of violence can be a decisive one. Many of us have become very familiar with the Derrick Jensen quote “love does not imply pacifism” and enjoy his Star Wars video on May 4th (video below).
Taken from another eco-radical commentary on violence, the recently released Atassa journal – available here for free download and through Little Black Cart to purchase –
Sighs by Lunas de abril
Together we walk the hostile labyrinths.You take hand. My heart beats.We try to hide our nervousness with a smile or some light caress that gives an air of tranquility. I look at you; you look at me. Our backs carry the device. You know, my friend, you know why I do this. . .why you do this. . .why we do this. Every thing that is gray surrounds us, and you shed a tear in that night ofbitter disenchantment.We share tears under the stars that claim the poetry of dawn. How many times have we asked ourselves, “Is everything lost?” in the face of machinery that does not stop and imbeciles who are somehow alive within their inert movements. From within the rage that embraces us when we see distant mountains with rests devastated by the city, the hate grows, and the love of gunpowder appears.We continue our path. The cold air sticks in my throat, fills my lungs, and esc1pes. The icy climate brings to my mind the image of that rest that served as a blanket r us when our kissing words were silent and our shadows j oined to start the war, this war in which we will not be victorious. We walk without raising suspicion; black cats taught us to move be tween the nights, walking the decadent cities, passing unnoticed in silence. We arrive, and solitary stars smile on us. Our hands no longer tremble; the nervousness vanishes. The rage travels to every corner ofour bodies. You look at me; I look at you. You like me; I like you. I place the device, and it trans rms me into a coyote thirsting r revenge. We understand, my iend. Words are not enough.With patience that only you possess, you light the ame. Seconds pass, and in the busy streets the nervousness reappears.
You continue, calm, and I laugh at mysel Now I laugh at myself, mock mysel We ee; we arc the accursed shadows that in ltrate the streets. I can sense that a patrol is right behind me in the empty street. A mix of happiness. sadness. hate, and melancholy.
We escape . . . proud of what we are and to have encountered each other in the middle ofthis grey li . Proud to be eco-extremists. For yourself, you will always be you; r myself, I will always be me. Upon sharing caresses and attacks, we knew this. I believe in you; you believe in me. This is neither idle chatter, romanticisms, nor idealistic cliches. Our trust was built by actions-my leaving my life in your hands and yours in mine, without hesitation. And if one day we fall? We both know that we will avenge ourselves. The oblivion will annihilate our experience, but the living memory ofour actions will and shape in bullets and fires. Now safe, we caress each other’s bodies. I kiss you; you kiss me. You share with me your motivation to continue warring. We decide to arm ourselves and fight until the end of our existence. It isn’t easy to lead a double life, to lie to even those closest to us so as not to raise any suspicions.We make n of the moralist commentaries of the good citizens. We think with a smile of these citizens who hate us so much, “They could never imagine.” Our bodies, now naked, are discovering and rediscovering each other as we remember the first attacks, the mistakes, the experiments. Your orgasm that brings with it mine, the moans, the scratches, the sighs.
For my friend, for all of our friends. . . For our savage nature!
Until your death or mine!
Long live eco-extremism!
No doubt the indigenous people’s of the Yasuni National Park love the forests they call their homes and it is highly likely that they will defend the forests and attack the invaders who try to destroy the forest.