The traditional Euro-Western view of the climate change challenge is fixated on decarbonisation and how to deploy alternative energy technologies to reduce the emission of CO2. While accepting the necessity for energy transition and the imperative of technological changes, Politics of turbulent waters: reflections on ecological, environmental and climate crises in Africa, edited by Nnimmo Bassey, contributes to the more holistic and systemic discourse that recognises that the production of greenhouse gases is interconnected with the creation of injustice – economic inequality, poverty, racism and gender inequality.1 In short, climate change is a consequence of colonialism and capitalist exploitation of people and nature.
Today, the concept of climate justice is widely used and has become mainstreamed into the climate lexicon. But it was not always so. By the turn of the millennium, the idea of climate justice was pushed by a few radical environmental justice advocates in Africa, Latin America and North America (in particular, with people of colour and leaders of Indigenous communities), and in Asia in the 1990s through participation in the global environmental movement in solidarity, but also to confront the narrow Euro-Western orthodoxy. It took the effort of radical voices from the global South for the world to begin to appreciate that ecosystem protection and the reduction of CO2 in the atmosphere, while necessary, are not sufficient if not included with the elimination of the structures of colonisation and oppression that enable the exploitation and destruction of nature and peoples. Environmentalism cannot be complete without justice (economic justice, social justice, gender justice, racial justice). We find the continuation of that anti-hegemonic discourse in Politics of turbulent waters. The book contains 50 chapters by mainly contributors from the global South or southern voices writing from exile that challenge the overwhelming rule of neoliberalism and market fundamentalism, from the Kyoto Protocol to the Paris Accord.
In the foreword, Jay Naidoo recollects a journey through the Niger Delta, highlighting the horrific environmental and health impacts caused by oil extraction. Naidoo and the contributors to the book’s Section 3, ‘Oil politics’, critique the capitalism-driven status quo that prioritises profit over ecological sustainability and affirm the need for resistance against corporate exploitation and environmental injustice. Chapter 4 in this section, ‘Resisting shale gas in Shala, Algeria’, by Hocine Malti, explores Algeria’s controversial move towards shale gas extraction, revealing widespread public dissent over environmental and health concerns, particularly in the Saharan town of In Salah. The author criticises the Algerian government and national hydrocarbons company Sonatrach for disregarding citizens’ concerns about pollution and the consumption of scarce desert water resources.
Oil exerts influence over society, including the politics of non-governmental environmental organisations. Reputable organisations like the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) that partner with industry could become tools for propagating ideas and ‘science’ that serves corporate interests, as shown in the chapter ‘A critique of the IUCN-Niger Delta Panel final report’, by Richard Steiner. Other contributors point to how corporate infiltration undermines responses to climate change by promoting ‘market’ mechanisms that may sustain profits but not change. Many of the chapters convey a common message: climate change and related global problems cannot be addressed without disrupting the hegemonic capitalist order, including its expression in state power.
In the first section, ‘Climate crises’, the chapter ‘Civil disobedience: a key strategy in the fight for climate justice’ advocates the use of civil disobedience to shut down infrastructure that contributes to climate change, thus directly achieving emission cuts. Its author, Femke Wijdekop, supports civil disobedience to expose and challenge the fossil fuel industry’s insatiable appetite for resources and land, and to press for urgent climate action.
The tardy pace of reform informs the need for direct action to advance climate justice, as argued in ‘Burning the planet, one Climate COP at a time’: Mary Louise Malig laments the transition from Kyoto’s legally binding emissions cuts to Paris’s voluntary pledges and contributions that allow high-emission nations to continue polluting while policies become progressively weaker. The author contends that the idea of ‘climate debt’, whereby developed countries should pay for their historic emissions, has been overlooked. For Malig, embracing alternatives like food sovereignty, agroecology, community conservation and Indigenous knowledge can help build a more sustainable future.
In the chapter ‘Never trust a COP’, Babawale argues against false solutions such as REDD and REDD+, which allow corporations to exploit lands and forests in the name of reducing deforestation.2 Similarly, in the chapter ‘The coming green colonialism’, Nnimmo Bassey criticises the concept of nature-based solutions, stating that they are merely excuses for businesses to continue polluting while feigning environmental consciousness. He asserts that focusing on carbon offsetting overlooks the urgent need for tangible change in production and consumption habits. Bassey warns against a new wave of green colonialism where the burden of climate action is unfairly imposed on the victims.
Other contributors like Hamza Hamouchene also critique the neoliberalisation of environmental governance, pointing out how institutions like the World Bank and the European Union prioritise market-based solutions that fail to address the root causes of the crises. In the chapter ‘Fighting for climate and environmental justice in the Maghreb?’, Hamouchene calls for a just transition towards renewable energy, sustainable agriculture and democratic control over natural resources. The author urges the fight against land and water grabs and emphasises the importance of grassroots organising and local engagement to challenge corporate power and achieve environmental and social justice.
Vandana Shiva’s ‘How economic growth has become anti-life’ critiques the obsession with limitless growth, arguing that it neglects sustainability, justice and human dignity. Shiva considers the idea of unlimited growth as a ‘fantasy of economists, businesses and politicians’ (136) and argues that gross domestic product (GDP) ‘hides the poverty it creates through the destruction of nature’ (ibid.), vitiating communities’ ability to sustain themselves. Shiva demonstrates how current economic models undervalue nature and community work: ‘nature’s amazing cycles of renewal of water and nutrients are defined as nonproduction’ (ibid.), as is work done by women and peasants. This model also rewards exploitation of resources: ‘[a] living forest does not contribute to growth, but when trees are cut down and sold as timber, there is growth’ (ibid.). The same applies to water extraction and seed patenting, which, despite increasing GDP, impoverish nature and communities. Shiva identifies ‘three levels of violence’ in unsustainable development: against the earth, against people, and the violence of resource wars. Ultimately, she calls for new measures of national well-being beyond GDP, citing Bhutan’s adoption of gross national happiness as an example. She concludes, ‘the real currency of life is life itself’ (138).
Part of the debate about climate change is on the question of responsibility: should we focus on the role of individuals, or should we focus on government (public) responses through binding regulations? In ‘Watch your carbon footprints’, Sonali Narang discusses the significant impacts of human activities on climate change and suggest that small steps like conscientious electricity usage, paper reduction and limited use of animal products can have large cumulative effects.
Magdalene Ime Idiang shifts the focus to states and the necessity for deploying public policy interventions. Her chapter ‘Green new deal: a done deal or a doom deal?’ critically examines the Green New Deal (GND), a proposal by the US Congress aimed at reducing greenhouse gas emissions through a massive transition to renewable energy. The GND also emphasises addressing societal issues like racial injustice and economic disparity. Critics, mostly conservatives, argue that the deal is financially unrealistic and its goals overly ambitious. The chapter also highlights the European Green Deal, which has a more relaxed timeline for carbon neutrality but still involves a massive overhaul of its economy. A significant portion of the piece is dedicated to the potential impact of the GND on Africa. It questions whether the GND, developed in the global North, might exacerbate existing issues in the global South, raising concerns about reproduction of the regime of exploitation of Africa’s resources, land grabbing, and undermining of its sovereignty under the guise of green initiatives.
In the book’s second section, ‘Hunger crises’, which focuses on genetically modified organisms (GMOs) and food security, Hans R. Herren’s ‘GMOs for food and nutrition security: a costly distraction’ highlights the flawed dependence on genetically modified (GM) crops and the Green Revolution approach to addressing food insecurity and agricultural challenges in Africa. He criticises the focus on GM crops, arguing that such methods overlook effective, sustainable and scientifically backed agroecological alternatives. While GM technology may seem appealing, it often requires costly inputs like additional fertilisers and irrigation systems unsuitable for small-scale farmers in Africa. Furthermore, the potential contamination risks associated with GM crops are significant. Instead of relying on GM crops and reductionist solutions, Herren proposes an eco-social intensification of traditional agriculture based on both scientific foundations and farmers’ knowledge, advocating for agro-ecological practices that increase biodiversity, improve soil health and enable better adaptation to climate change. He concludes by emphasising the need to address the root causes of today’s agricultural challenges with a comprehensive agroecological approach, rather than a narrow focus on GM crops.
The chapter ‘Food sovereignty and matters arising’, by Benita Siloko, argues for the prioritisation of culturally appropriate and sustainably produced food over industrial agriculture, and its impacts on local communities and the environment. Siloko supports the view that food should not be considered just a product, and the food system needs to be understood beyond the confines of market-based reasoning. She asserts that food sovereignty goes beyond availability; it means local control and decision-making that protect small-scale agrarian communities from market fluctuations. She also warns against the rapid acceptance of GMOs and calls for caution, saying, ‘[t]he speed with which Nigeria is permitting GMOs is highly suspicious and offers no assurance that the government is concerned about food safety and the preservation of our biodiversity’ (87).
The last section, ‘Knowledge space’, focuses on how capital seeks to maintain hegemony over global environmental discourses and the need to challenge such discourses. For example, foreign direct investment (FDI) in resource extraction in Africa is always presented as a good thing for the countries in the continent and a driver of economic growth. But Firoze Manji’s chapter, ‘Development or amputation: the role of extractive industries’, calls into question the supposed benefits transnational corporations bring to African development. He likens non-renewable resource extraction to the ‘amputation’ (133) of irreplaceable resources without fair recompense or developmental impact. He concludes that control of these ‘amputative industries’ (135) should reside with the citizens and not with transnational corporations or stock market speculators. Ultimately, Manji advocates for a shift towards sovereign-value-adding manufacturing and services sectors to reduce Africa’s dependency on the North.
The chapter ‘Global Blackness’, by Hakima Abbas, is a potent reflection on the contemporary struggles and movements of Black communities around the world, embodying an inspiring message to the Black grassroots in the US and elsewhere. It elucidates the global impact of the Black Lives Matter movement, ignited by events in the US, and how it has reverberated in countries like South Africa, Kenya, Zimbabwe, Colombia and Brazil. Abbas emphasises that this movement has its roots in decades-long organising and the continuous fight for Black life, dignity and self-determination. Abbas calls for the Black community to build ‘ways of being’ that disrupt systems of imperialism, patriarchy and militarism. She argues for genuine solidarity and co-conspiracy beyond empty declarations, advocating a leaderful movement modelled on the aspirations of the people involved.
Another article by Firoze Manji discusses the concepts of white saviourism, victimisation and violence in the context of Burkina Faso. It highlights the contrast between the revolutionary period led by Thomas Sankara and the subsequent regime of Blaise Compaoré. Sankara’s four-year rule brought significant improvements to the country, including self-sufficiency in food, reduced infant mortality, increased school attendance and women’s empowerment. Sankara rejected foreign aid and advocated for the non-payment of the country’s odious debt.
However, Compaoré’s regime (which was supported by France and other Western powers) reversed these gains, leading to increased poverty, corruption and the exploitation of resources by foreign companies. This period also witnessed the growth of transnational development NGOs and their local counterparts, who relied on foreign aid and perpetuated the image of Africans as helpless victims in need of saving. The complicity of African NGOs and leaders in perpetuating a negative African identity and self-hate is seen as a form of violence. Manji argues that true empowerment and self-determination are essential to counter white saviourism. The Burkinabé people’s mass mobilisation against Compaoré’s attempt to prolong his rule reflects a rejection of the white saviour narrative. The article concludes by emphasising the importance of solidarity over rescue or aid in supporting popular movements, and of addressing the destructive effects of global capitalism.
It appeared that global capital’s project was going to be disrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic. In the first chapter of the book, Nduka Otiono contemplates life during the lockdown, focusing on the reclamation of spaces by nature and the flourishing of creativity. For Otiono, the pandemic also ushered in an era of ‘artocracy’ (4), a period of ‘creative spark’ ((ibid.) to cope with the global crisis. Otiono highlights the importance of appreciating the ‘small things’ (6) that provide solace and sustenance during challenging times.
Even as capital has rebounded, Politics of turbulent waters remains a deep, comprehensive exploration of the intersecting issues of environmental justice, climate change, food sovereignty and economic development. It is not only an appraisal of the problems but also a call to action, stressing the need for systemic change and the activation of ‘people power’ to counter the injustices faced.