Who am I and where do I belong are perhaps the most primal questions of human existence. We are all inherently, seekers of truth. In the practice of asking these questions, we naturally align our answers along agreeable proximities. This brings a sense of comfort and safety as we find validation in our shared versions of truth. It is extremely difficult for anyone regardless of education or empathy level, to fully comprehend or relate to events beyond a certain geographical scope. Distance supports misconceptions.
EDITOR’S NOTE: SEE PART I HERE
The geographical reality of “Over-There” for all our intents and purposes does indeed characterize another world. The list of reasons we adopt to support our divisions is formidable; religion, geography, race, gender, politics, and/or personal causes. These become the foundations of our personal truths. Truths we use to frame and define our lives, families, and communities.
Adhering to these beliefs is based on our own sense and human need for survival. However, sometimes we can struggle to recognize and accept that these same affirmations cementing our lives can be manipulated, weaponized, and used as catalysts for conflict and war. Perhaps this is the real crime of politics, to use our best selves against us.
In a rapidly changing world, the definition and practice of war is expanding beyond clear borders or local politics. Human progress is creating scenarios previously reserved for science fiction movies.
We are living in a Jetsons’ cartoon world, with edges of cut glass.
Historically, war is a system of overt violence through militarized movements and associated destructions. Chequered patterns of pushing and grabbing. Violent competition is a recurring and permanent theme throughout our presence on this planet. Relentless waves of; destroy, rebuild, destroy, and re-construct. Ceaseless variations of people fighting and dying across centuries. There are very few places on earth left unstained by the blood of human conflicts.
We survived our distant histories and recently, WW I and WWII. Archived library shelves buckle under the weight of proofs documenting our human perseverance. War memorials are scattered across all countries attesting to our survival as a species. Aesthetic reminders of vaguely remembered and acrimonious rivalries. We are soothed by our histories. We draw breath in recognition that; “This too shall pass”, again. Benignly, we confer comforting promises of a future “better place” to those deemed less fortunate. We remain enamoured with the concept of life’s natural and eternal flow.
Below our history lies another story. It weaves silently throughout humanity, obscurely twisting through the histories of our complex relationships with nature. Our societies are burdened by the perpetual acceptance of its unassailability. Nature is the mute victim of human patterns we refuse to break. We are addicted to both our conveniences and divided beliefs. Nature once unassailable in its ability to resurrect is being pushed beyond all exhausted defences, fading before our eyes.
We turn away from this unacceptable truth, it is too hard to accept.
Increasingly apoplectic social media conspiracies and extremist politicians support distractive agendas. They are adamant we believe our societies are under attack, determined to rally us into defending ourselves against un-nameable masses. We tremble more from anonymous fears that the war machines lining our mutual borders. Machines assuring us of our equality in destruction.
Distance supports a sense of our own safety. It is not here, it is “Over- There”. In our geographical privilege we continue living our normal lives. Our human inability to fully relate to the “Over There” is shaded with feelings of manageability. We can expand government budgets supporting “protective” measures of military and humanitarian aid. We drop penny donations to favourite charities goaded by photos of weeping and broken children. Our busy lives allow only limited engagement. We may be slightly inconvenienced but not terribly bothered. Apart from this, we have our own problems.
These are the beliefs of our disconnected societies, but they are not the reality of our connected world. Science tells us that for every action there is a re-action. Equally, for every non-action, there is a consequence.
Each and every conflict or war carries devasting effects that extend far beyond immediate human casualties or geographically specific destruction. Their toxic legacies linger long after the fighting ceases, scarring communities and spreading poisons throughout ecosystems for generations. The nature of land and water neither recognize nor are bound by the changing lines of human maps. They are simply the foundations of our shared planet.
War has become a highway supporting the overexploitation and re-direction of natural resources for corporate and military needs. Forests are cut, mountains mined, water aquifers drained at unsustainable rates, and rivers diverted (disrupting vital hydrological cycles). Regions are left barren, made vulnerable to further degradation of droughts and floods. Ironically, we have named agendas of immediate destruction as, “scorched earth” without considering the impact these policies carry into our own futures. After all, it’s happening “over there” , not here.
Additional conflict costs of collateral damage can include essential machinery and water infrastructure which falters or ceases completely during wartime. This causes further damage that can take years and significant resources to rectify. The falling domino effects leave local communities displaced or grappling with contaminated soils and unreliable water supplies long after politicians officially declare a conflict is -over.
War does not solve problems, it creates more. Violent conflicts are direct factors for generational cycles of poverty and hardship.
Issues that incite wider, expanded conflicts both political and military. Devastated populations unable to survive in their native lands seek safety and life elsewhere. They have borne the cost of our beliefs. We cannot turn away from recognizing our actions as a source of their misery.
Today, there are over 23 violent global conflicts with a steadily growing list of “areas of tension”. Multitudes of migrants flow across the planet like waves crashing across seawalls. A river runs dry in Italy, a sinkhole expands in Texas. Strange and disconnected events are scattered across the world. Events that seemingly lack any visible link or relationship.
Rising extremist politics churn supportive platforms of division like magicians producing endless rabbits out of empty hats. They offer us dark assurances of protective, enforced borders to keep us safe. As if the bogeyman of our childhood lurks just outside our humanly mapped borders.
Our attention and emotions are dramatically focused on newly perceived, immediate threats to our cultures and communities from criminal elements and illegals infiltrating our countries.
In a struggling economy, we must protect our families, communities and, jobs. We are swiftly corralled into accepting and adopting conflict wording; to “defend” our own against “attack”.
Vaguely uncomfortable, we must still manage the difficulties of our own daily lives. Whatever may be happening “Over-There” causing them to flee their own homelands is not our personal problem. Any larger truth is simply too overwhelming. We have children to feed, mortgages to pay, and insecure jobs.
Media brutally applies politically aligned pro and con arguments to accelerate wars “Over-There”. It is exhausting, leaving us little desire for any deeper understanding. Issues are so competitively focused that anything lacking alignment with an immediate political agenda lies deliberately ignored or worse, hidden. We pull out credit cards seeking to purchase brief moments of ice cream joy. We will pay later.
However, scratching the surface ever so slightly across global economics reveals very clear links. They are found, operating throughout the dark, global, financial web. A silent but deadly competition is being fought with corporate money and government policies. WWIII is not about politics, religion, or defending freedom. It is about the buying and selling of precious, finite natural resources. It is about, water.
For over 15 years, countries including Saudi Arabia, the UAE, China, and the US have been quietly investing and buying up agricultural lands in 3rd world countries like; Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia. Of course, if your country is a designated desert this seems like a fair exchange of resources. But is that what is really happening here?
As selective, geographical populations continue to rise, securing permanent access to fertile land and reliable freshwater has become a critical and global issue. This has led to a surge in massive foreign land acquisitions, often referred to as “land grabs,”. They are primarily funded by large corporations and investors seeking to secure food supplies through the purchasing of viable agricultural lands from local farmers. Yes, those same farmers blocking the road to work these past months. Your farmers.
Initially, these purchases were promoted as mutually beneficial partnerships between the local communities and foreign investors. Oddly, these land deals often come paired with a more sinister directive that includes the “grabbing” and control of freshwater reserves.
The global “land trade” has seen a significant rise since the 2007 food price crisis and the financial crash of 2008 prompted further concerns about potential future resource shortages. Statistics show that competitive “land grabbing” between wealthy countries rapidly accelerated. First-world countries and their corporations quietly adjusted military positions to protect supply lines while equally cementing possession of the vital resources they needed. WWIII was already set in place through global financial boardrooms.
Countries including the US, China, and Saudi Arabia rapidly increased their spending to acquire valuable farmland abroad, motivated by a desire to ensure their own food security while reducing reliance on water-intensive agriculture within their own borders. A “keep-ours-untouched” policy while raiding and maximizing the use of natural resources acquired through foreign “land grab” purchases. Observers who seek to raise concerns around the ethical implications of these land grabs, (particularly in cases where local populations are displaced or coerced into selling their land without fair compensation) are largely ignored with voices lost in the intersecting streams of financial profits.
Clarity on the connections between “land grabs” and “water grabbing” is crucial to not only understanding global politics and wars, but for recognizing the deep and connecting links between “Over-There” and, over here. To name it for what it is. A global water war. In essence, land-grabs often directly translate to acquiring all of the freshwater resources associated with it. It’s like buying a pregnant pig. You pay for the pig with a bonus of piglets. Once the pig has been sold, the farmer loses all access.
