A New Faith: Part 2: Chapter 19

When Camille had started organizing protests rather than merely being a participant in them, she had spent quite a bit of time learning about the history of protests. She had watched numerous documentaries and even some movies about famous activists.

One particular scene from an old movie, “Gandhi”, had stuck in her mind. It was the biography of an Indian freedom-fighter who had thoroughly rejected the violent form of protests. Decades ago, almost single-handedly he had motivated tens of millions of Indians to successfully use non-violent and peaceful protests which led to the defeat the British colonizers.

The scene from the movie that had hit Camille in her gut showed the famous Dandi Salt March. The British had imposed an unfair tax on salt. To protest that, Gandhi had marched for days on end to the coastal location of Dandi where he had defied the British by taking the salt without paying any taxes. Over the course of twenty-four days, thousands upon thousands of protesters had joined him in that march. All unarmed. All peacefully raising slogans against the draconian tax.

As the popularity of the march had grown, the British had panicked. They had to put an end to this march before it became a nightmare for them. Just as the protesters had been about to reach the salt works, the British troops had barred the protester’s path.

Then something incredible had happened. The protesters hadn't stopped their march. They hadn't attacked the soldiers. In fact, they hadn’t even prepared to defend themselves from the soldiers. Instead, the protesters had formed rows and walked steadfastly toward the troops. Fear and courage had competed in their hearts. But such had been the power of Gandhi’s idea of nonviolent civil disobedience that they had held each other’s hands and walked into a barrage of blows the British soldiers had mercilessly rained on them. As each row of protesters had fallen to the ground covered in blood, the one behind it had fearlessly stepped forward to take the blows.  

Not a single protester had raised their hand against the soldiers. The soldiers couldn’t believe that it was humanly possible to not retaliate. This had been unprecedented. Camille had tears of rage in her eyes as she had watched row after row of people of all ages getting cut down by the soldiers. The freely flowing blood had drenched their mostly white clothes. Her fists had been clenched as she found herself screaming at them to fight back against this injustice. The protesters had easily outnumbered the soldiers and could have overwhelmed the soldiers if they had wished to do so. But the protesters hadn’t even tried to protect their faces from the vicious whacks of the truncheons. They had been so firm in their belief that they had somehow managed to control their reflexive evasive actions.

The press that had assembled to cover this confrontation had been aghast at this spectacle. And then, the faces of the soldiers had come into focus. They had been the ones who had the weapons. But they had fear in their eyes. They had tears in their eyes as they followed their orders to crush the nonviolent protesters. And that was exactly the outcome Gandhi had been seeking. He had wanted the oppressors to confront the consequences of their actions. He had wanted the oppressors to change from within. He had wanted them to abandon the evil they were perpetrating.

The change would - then - be real and resilient. Force cannot create such a change even if it subdues the opposition because that action always leads to a reaction - as Gandhi had put it cogently, “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” His goal had been to resolve the conflict once and for all by changing the hearts and minds of the oppressors. In that endeavor, if he had to personally suffer through immense physical pain, then so be it. These stories continued to inspire millions all over the world in subsequent years. The mass marches that Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. had led in the US to end segregation were explicitly based on the nonviolent protests pioneered by Gandhi. In South Africa, Nelson Mandela had been inspired by Gandhi.

Camille hadn’t been able to sleep for days after watching that movie. That scene had played over and over in her mind. She had re-lived those emotions of anger and sadness again and again. Later she had read the stories of other freedom-fighters who had gone on hunger strikes when they had been jailed. One story in particular was that of Bhagat Singh, a young Indian idealist in his early twenties who had been sentenced to death for a non-violent act of protest. While in jail, he had undertaken a hunger strike to draw attention to the horrible conditions of the prisoners. One of his fellow strikers had died after rejecting food for 63 days. She was in awe of the incredible passion and courage that these people - as young as she was - had shown almost a century ago. 

It was time to emulate those formidable acts from another time and another place in order to achieve the change that she was seeking here and now. The time for peaceful protests was over. Hunger strikes were required and not symbolic ones. The real ones where the strikers were willing to die if their demands were not met. 

One quiet morning, Camille asked everyone to assemble in the open space in their camp. Calmly and precisely, Camille spelled out the proposal to undertake hunger strikes in order to force their governments and the public-at-large to accept climate refugees. 

There was pin-drop silence as she concluded her speech. Slowly, several people nodded their approval. Camille’s resolve seeped into the consciousness of all her friends. Every single person joined her in this endeavor knowing full well that some of them may not survive. But then, what was the point of surviving in this world anyway. How could they live in their safe bubbles when millions suffered all over the world? If this was not a do-or-die situation then they didn’t know what one was. If they were not able to back their fundamental belief with action commensurate with the seriousness of the situation, then they would never be able to face their conscience again. If this didn’t force people to change their minds, then nothing else would. There would be no point in living in that world anyway. 

No time was wasted in further discussions. Camille and her friends set up their protest at the same venue where Kaija had made her now famous speech - the plaza in front of the Nobel Peace Center. Two dozen people formed a small circle as they began their hunger strike. The rest of the group put up the signs stating their sole demand, “let the climate refugees in.” On a separate sign, the group printed out a formal statement where they had noted that they were prepared to fast until death unless their demands were met. The statement was broadcast widely on social media. 

More than a hundred years ago, a union leader had made a pithy observation about movements - “first they ignore you. Then they ridicule you. And then they attack you and want to burn you. And then they build monuments to you.” Camille and her friends were about to find out how accurate that observation was. 

Indeed, the government chose to studiously ignore the group of fasting youth for a whole week. These entitled bunch of kids did not have any idea what it meant to be hungry - the thinking went. Running out to do protests on weekends where the main activity was carrying signs and shouting slogans while shooting videos that would be posted on social media - that was all these kids were capable of. They didn’t know what suffering was all about. Within a couple of days, they will go back to their rich parents whining that no one came to check on them. 

In fact, the parents made the same calculation and ignored their children’s hunger strike for two full days. But the kids surprised them and out of concern the parents showed up at the strike to convince their child to eat something and, of course, stop this nonsense. The wan faces of their children showed a calm and steely determination that they never knew existed. The entire group - those who were fasting and those that were there in solidarity - had taken a vow of silence. There were to be no discussions and debates, they had all decided. Their demand was crystal clear and so were the consequences of it not being met.

After a few rounds of persuasion, both individual and collective, the parents realized that the kids seemed to be resolute and unified. Not a single kid broke the vigil. Although, the parents thought them as kids, every single one of the fasting youth were, legally speaking, adults and there was nothing the parents could do by force. 

The parents were getting increasingly worried as hours went by with no change in the situation. They had seen with their own eyes that the kids were deadly serious. They thought that maybe the kids will get over this tantrum if they got the attention they were seeking. So some of the parents who were well-connected with the media arranged for a press conference. The hope was that once the kids felt that they were heard loud and clear, they would end this stunt. 

It was true, a fair number of parents indeed thought that this was a childish tantrum that their entitled kid was throwing. In general, they had been supportive of their kids’ advocacy activities. But when the kids had picked up the issue of climate refugees, that support had evaporated. When the protests had ended and their children had gone away, the parents had assumed that they would smoke some pot and get drunk for a few days before getting back to their usual lives. The last thing any parent was expecting was this escalation where lives were at stake. If not lives, at least short-term health was at stake, thought a few optimistic parents. 

The press had been ignoring this hunger strike for the simple reason that their audience had become tired of all the protests. There was someone or the other always protesting for or against something and there was only so much emotional energy the lay person could rustle up to engage with whatever that issue was.

The media’s overall wariness also had another important reason. When Camille and her group had marched the first time around in support of climate refugees, the public backlash had been formidable. The media coverage - including, the critical one - had been deemed as providing support for Camille’s ideas. The media had faced the brunt from advertisers and were justifiably reluctant to incur the wrath of their audience all over again.

It took two full days of entreaties by the parents to get a response from the media. The mainstream media decided to continue to ignore them making up all kinds of excuses so as to not sound cruel. The alternative media, in contrast, saw this as an opportunity to further cement its image as covering important issues, especially, those that the mainstream media chose to not cover.  

A bunch of alternative media journalists showed up for the press conference right on schedule. They were greeted with a hastily put together podium where the parents of the fasting children were aimlessly milling around. The hunger strikers and their friends had continued with the vow of silence. It had been almost five days. Not one individual among those who were fasting had eaten anything. On the contrary, another half a dozen had joined them over those five days. All they had done was occasionally sip a few drops of water. 

The impact of the fasting was evident as a few needed to lean against some kind of support in order to stay upright. The loss of weight was noticeable. The parents were becoming more and more anxious. They had been consulting doctors about the implications of multi-day fasting and what they were hearing was equal part good and bad. The good part was that no one was in any danger of dying. These were all healthy people in the prime of their lives. Their ability to recover from this was excellent. The bad part was that there would be some adverse health impacts and it would take a good chunk of time to recover from them. The longer the fast continued the worse the impacts and the longer the recovery time.

After several minutes had gone by, the journalists became impatient and prodded a few of the parents to get the press conference going. The parents looked at each other questioningly and then they all turned to look at their children. They had told the children that the press was there to talk to them. But the children had merely pointed at the printed statement. Finally, one of the parents stepped up to the podium and began to speak softly. He said that he was reading the statement on behalf of his son who was among the people who were fasting. Then he indicated that the statement had already been circulated online. 

The statement was so direct that the journalists didn't know what was left to ask. So they ended up ignoring the statement and made a beeline for the human element of the story. What were the names of the people who were fasting? What were their backgrounds? The parents had no choice but to talk about their children in far more detail than they were prepared to do. But they were the ones who had brought in the press in the first place. Their children had not even deigned to look at them or the press.

The journalists tried to find some interesting angles for their stories in the interviews with the parents. But almost no one tried to go and talk with the children. It was apparent that the children were not going to budge from their vow of silence. Still, the visuals of the obviously starving children were too powerful to ignore. In a few hours, several stories popped up online that described the lives of Camille’s group along with heart-wrenching photos. Most of the journalists who had filed those stories did not expect to get many hits. They had mentally moved on to their next stories immediately after filing them. Somewhere, though, maybe it was the stark photos that did it, but something resonated with young people across Norway. In a short time, the echoes from those stories emerged all over the Nordic countries and then from many parts of Europe. 

The next morning saw a trickle of youngsters from Oslo and surrounding areas making its way to the Nobel Peace Center. They had come to see for themselves if those stories were true. Over the rest of the day, the trickle grew and grew until it was a steady stream. Teenagers, college kids, and young professionals came in groups to the site of the hunger strike. Many had come simply because some friend of theirs was going and they had tagged along for the heck of it. But when they came and saw that circle of young people who were quietly recording their ultimate protest, they were infected by the passion radiating from that place.

In that day alone, several dozen more people sat down to join the hunger strike. Hundreds more stood silently in support. Thousands more raised their voices both in the real and virtual world to emphatically state the demand of the fasting folks. The simple and straightforward logic behind the demand that had first appealed to Camille when she had heard Kaija speak, now seemed obvious to the rapidly growing movement.  

Mainstream media was stunned by the scale at which this silent movement had grown overnight. They could no longer ignore this story. Finally, the big-name journalists showed up on the site and attempted to talk with the strikers and their supporters. Again and again, the strikers pointed them to the statement and persevered with their silence. Eventually, the journalists were forced to let go of the human element angle and focus on the demand itself. For the first time, the demand was broadcast in its entirety across the mainstream media not just in Norway but all over the world. 

It stated:

“Europe and North America are both responsible for and the beneficiaries of the activities that continue to cause climate change because of which many regions in Asia, Africa, and South America have become uninhabitable. Europe and North America have vast tracts of empty habitable land. Therefore, Europe and North America must immediately make this land available for the resettlement of people from Asia, Africa, and South America.”

That’s it. No mention of money. No talk of complicated policies. Only the demand to move people out of harm’s way. In the immediate aftermath of the horrific heat wave that had killed millions barely a couple of months ago, it was impossible to argue against any aspect of the statement however much the so-called experts valiantly attempted to do so.

The impact of this simple idea was electrifying. Hunger strikes began in Stockholm and Helsinki. After all, it was the PMs from those two countries, too, who had pushed Kaija to the ground along with the PM of Norway. Camille and her friends had catalyzed movements in those two countries without any formal coordination. Again, the strikers consisted, primarily, of college students with broad support from school kids and young professionals. 

Ten days had gone by since the first hunger strike had begun. Those who had started their fast ten days ago were visibly wasting away as their bodies had used up most of the stored fat and had started eating away at the muscles in order to survive. The cheeks had sunk in. The eyes, when they were open, had that bright look that sought to convey their unwavering commitment to their cause. The families and friends were getting frantic as they watched their loved ones suffering. There was a touch of pride, too. These young people had the world at their feet. Yet, they were ready to die in solidarity for people unknown to them. Their humanity blazed through their defiant eyes. Their clenched jaws expressed their resolve. They would all live together or else, they would all die together. No more would there be the inhuman instinct of “to each his own.”

Another couple of days passed. The doctors and nurses who were monitoring the strikers realized that at least two individuals were in immediate danger. As they prepared to move them to a hospital for advanced care, the strikers pushed them away and formed a tight cordon around those two indicating that the strike would end only when their demand was met. This was a delicate moment. The politicians had maintained a studied silence. They had calculated that the moment there was a genuine threat to life, the strike would collapse on its own. They thought that these kids would just not have the courage to see this through. But they had underestimated this movement.

One of the two individuals who was now in mortal danger died on the fourteenth day. He had last spoken with his parents a day before. He had been in high spirits even though he had no strength left to move. Then he lost consciousness as his mother cradled his head in her hands and cried quietly. She held him close to her chest all night as she realized that he was fading fast. She wanted him to live. But more importantly, she wanted to honor his simple wish. All he was asking for was to move people out of harm’s way. In the morning, her husband noticed that their son was dead even though she continued to hold him in her arms. No parent should be so unfortunate as to see their child die. The sorrow of his death overpowered his father. Heart broken, he collapsed next to his son’s body and died without a word. The mother had to be moved to a hospital as she fainted because of the twin tragedies. A silent shudder of grief rippled through the crowd. Tears flowed and every single person paid their respects to their fallen comrade. Their resolve strengthened and several more people began fasting. The message was crystal clear, “we shall not back down from our demand.” 

The government was unprepared for this development. Their first reaction was of shock and then that morphed into anger. The PM called a meeting of the cabinet and plans were discussed to use force, if necessary, to end the strike. This had gone too far. They had made a mistake in ignoring it so far. They had hoped that it would wither away on its own. Now they would bury it with such force that no one would ever dare to do something like this again. Orders were issued to the police and a few army units were put on alert in case the police were overwhelmed by the crowd. Ambulances were lined up and military hospitals were readied to bring in all those who were fasting for treatment, regardless of their wishes. If need be, the government would pass laws to ensure that these actions would be legitimate. All the other parties had quietly assured the government that they would unanimously support the ending of this strike. None wanted this to ever happen again, especially, when they were in power. This could not set a precedent. 

The problem was that these politicians had forgotten that the police and medical professionals who they had ordered to execute their plans happened to be people. Many of them knew someone who was participating in the strike. More importantly, many were quietly in agreement with the demand of the strikers. Again and again people were finding out that there was no argument that could defeat the inexorable logic of the demand. The two deaths had galvanized their empathy. So on the morning of the day when the strike was to be dismantled, the police and medicos handed in their resignation letters to the government and joined the strike. By some rough counts, there were at least three hundred thousand people at the site. Calling up the army units to break up this large a crowd was no longer an option. The politicians had lost. 

On the twentieth day, as Camille opened her eyes unsteadily, she saw that the Norwegian PM was sitting in front of her trying to gently rouse her. Camille was so weak that she could barely stay conscious for more than half an hour at a stretch. Her body was completely shriveled up. No movement was possible without the immense use of will-power. So it took her a full five minutes to sit up and focus her attention on the PM. The anxious PM had no choice but to wait patiently. After a few moments of gasping from the effort to sit up, Camille’s breathing steadied. She didn’t say anything but simply waited for the PM to speak. 

The PM knew that she had an impossible task. She sighed, to herself, and said, “we are willing to consider your demand, provided you end your fast immediately.”

She could not bring herself to look at Camille when she spoke. She had been hoping that her bowed head would be taken as a sign of respect for Camille’s movement. But what she was really keen on ensuring was that the indifference on her face, something she had not been able to shake off, would not be captured by the cameras. She waited for a couple of moments and then looked up as she realized Camille was not speaking. She stared at Camille. What was this girl up to? Why was she not saying anything?

Camille smiled at her amiably and then waved her hand at the board where the demand was posted. Then she added in a soft voice but with a stubborn expression on her face, “we are not negotiating. We are DONE negotiating. You either accept our demand or else we continue our fast.” The microphone had picked up this conversation clearly and the cameras had captured a lot of vigorous nodding from the crowd. But everyone held on to their silence. 

The PM’s eyes flashed dangerously, just for an instant, before she managed to tamp down the emotions in her expression. She shook her head sadly, “you are not thinking straight Camille. What do you want me to do? Just open up Norway for the hordes from all over the world? There will no Norway left. Then what? Anarchy? Chaos? Suffering and death? What will you and your comrades do then? Where will you go? You will suffer, too. You may die. Your family and friends - do you want them to suffer, too?”

However much the PM had tried to keep her emotions in check, she had ended up blurting out what had been in her heart all along. She had been blunt. No political aphorisms. No ambiguity. She had not slept well for several days as this crisis had her and the rest of the cabinet debating day and night among themselves and with politicians from other parties. She had even spent hours discussing with the PMs of the other two countries that had been present on the dais when Kaija had made her famous announcement. After all, Camille’s movement had spread to their countries, too. They were also faced with the same set of issues that she was struggling to address. 

The PM was not a bad person. She was a career politician. She loved the world of policy and politics so much that she had chosen to stay single. All through her career, she had tried to be on the correct side of issues. She fought for policies that benefited the most needy in Norway. But this had completely stumped her.

She served at the pleasure of Norwegian voters. What the likes of Camille were saying was essentially that she should not only look out for her own voters’ interests but also for the people across the world. She had no disagreement with Camille about the unfair plight of the people suffering in other parts of the world. In fact, she generously donated to international humanitarian causes. That these people must receive help, was also something she fully agreed to. In fact, her proposal to Camille was going to be a huge increase in aid from Norway to all the countries that were hurting in the aftermath of the tragedy.

She just couldn’t see her way toward even considering Camille’s demand. She found it utterly childish. Yet, this demand, however intractable it seemed to her, appeared to have resonated with hundreds of thousands of people across the Nordic countries alone. Who knew how much support existed for it in other parts of the world.

In response to those blunt - and to the PM’s mind, extremely difficult - questions, Camille smiled broadly and beamed at her. There was an intangible, almost incongruous joy on her face. Then Camille said, “well, none of us wants to live in chaos. None of us is keen on suffering ourselves. And… you know… what we are aiming for here is to ensure that those who are re-settled here do not suffer either. In fact, we want them to be out of harm’s way. We want them to not only survive, but thrive.”

The PM was entertaining thoughts on the lines of, “this girl has lost it. She is just babbling now.” But something in Camille’s eyes held her from laughing out sarcastically at this statement. She waited for Camille to catch her breath after that exhausting series of statements. In a firm but low voice, Camille said, “all we have to do is figure out how they will live in our country harmoniously.”

She continued, “but first we have to accept that they are going to have to move here. Once we accept that, then we shall find ways to deal with the how. We are confident that with the vast land and wealth that we have in our country, we shall be able to figure out something viable for everyone.”

Camille reached out with her left hand. The PM, instinctively, reached out with her right hand. With quite a bit of effort, Camille leaned forward and held the PM’s right hand in both her hands. She brought her wan face close to the PM’s and said, “I don’t want to live in a world where millions may die because of our inaction. Would you want to live in that world?”

There were unshed tears in Camille’s eyes as she continued to hold the PM’s hand. She was not pleading. She was - just - sad as she sat there. Her body was wasting away. Her cheekbones poked out like tent poles stretching the skin. The fingers on her hands were like twigs. There was not much strength left in them. The resolve, though, had not diminished at all. She would die if her demand was not met. And dozens of other young men and women would die with her. The PM couldn’t bring herself to imagine that scenario. 

The PM sighed to herself. She knew that she had lost the argument with Camille. Her shoulders slumped. With her left hand, she cradled Camille’s face and said, “okay. We shall find a way to save as many souls as we can.”

“Please can you now end your fast?” she asked quietly.

Camille nodded and the plaza instantly erupted into a celebration as everyone hugged each other with joy. The PM sat with Camille as the medical team came over to administer the recovery of all the people who were fasting.