You Can Always Count on the Vegans

Two young women in abaya and a young man in white thobe are downright giddy with excitement.  One of the women fixes her head scarf and checks her make-up one more time.  Her brilliant pink lipstick perfectly matches the arabic lettering on the large microphone held by the reporter.  Her excitement is both palpable and  understandable.  She has just helped organize one of the first protest marches in Qatari history and its about to begin.

The small park is sandwiched between the Persian Gulf and the new part of Doha.  One one side tankers and ships hover in the morning haze, on the other surreal architectural creations proclaim Doha’s intention of being the “Gate to the Future”.   Two grassy hummocks, constantly irrigated by water drawn from the sea and desalinized by gas-fired plants, provide definition in the otherwise flat area.  I climb one and look out over the 200-300 people gathering together.   Most are youth, almost all of them have cameras, one is dressed as a polar bear.

The march was supposed to run promptly from 8 -10 am but by 8:30 we have not yet started due to the sheer volume of photo shoots being conducted.   A young woman holding a sign urging “Climate Action Now”  is precariously balanced on a man’s shoulders and draws a crowd of madly snapping cameras.   Beside me a Chinese woman interviews two Qatari woman in broken English.   And in front of it all a brilliant yellow banner emblazoned with the slogan “Arabs Lead Now” declares the arrival of Arab youth activists on the climate scene and attracts a frenzy of photographers. 

As we mill around long past the official starting hour I start to wonder when it will start until I spot him. This might be Qatar’s first protest march but somethings are apparently universal and a young man with a megaphone is one of them.  Sure enough, once he has judged that enough people have congregated the young man in white a thobe with the megaphone starts the charge.  We walk up a slight hill – cleverly chosen to maximize photographic coverage – and start the march. 

I move through the crowd.  For awhile I walk with the European and Japanese dominated WWF contingent, all wearing their matching “I speak Panda” shirts.  I slow down and catch the People’s Power group in their brilliant red and green shirts from the trade union organized march in Durban last year.   The Canadians are easy to spot.  The Canadian Youth delegation – as always a bastion of creative protest – have adapted the red squares that took Montreal by storm.  Each member of the CYD is sporting a red circle in solidarity with all the places worldwide impacted by climate change.

And as I walk I think about what this protest march really means.  Behind me I hear a group shouting the Latin American rally cry, “El Pueblo, Unido, Jamas sera Vencido”.  In front of me a youth member of PACJA, the Pan African Climate Justice Alliance, declares “there is no noise in this march, we need some noise” and reminiscent of the march in Durban – the loudest march I have ever witnessed by far - starts calling out “Climate Justice Now, Climate Justice Now”.   

This small sea of people have come from every corner of the world.  They can do nothing in particular.  They are not in negotiating rooms.  They are not possessed of large amounts of capital.  They are not going to revolutionize social systems over-night. But they are here.  Each in their own way, each with their own traditions of dissent, each with their own voice.  And when they leave, just as they have brought something to the table, each will leave with something new.   

If His Excellency Abdullah bin Hamad Al-Attiyah was the one to propose we should “make love not war” it's the Vegan’s who follow it up.  Dressed in white and leisurely strolling at the back of the demonstration they are singing, “all we are saying, is give peace a chance”.  From the giant carrot costumes in Copenhagen, to the free faux-meat sandwiches in Durban, you can always count on the Vegans to get the last word at a COP.