‘Around the world, biodiversity is being annihilated at a terrifying rate. We are entering the ‘sixth mass extinction’ event and the consequences could be catastrophic if we do not act swiftly. In spite of promises from governments, biodiversity loss shows no sign of slowing. The future of our planet is at stake.
We are holding a mock-funeral for nature procession through the streets of Bath to help raise awareness and make change happen…’ Red Rebel Brigade
The procession was led by two young Rebels, followed by the funeral bier carrying a figure representing Mother Nature, or Gaia, borne by eight bearers in muted greens. Then came some four hundred Red Rebels, walking slowly, creating tableau in slow gestures. They were followed by principal mourners and celebrities wearing hats representing the kingdoms of the more-than-human world. Then the drummers, their deep sound echoing around the Georgian Streets. Finally, came hundreds of mourners, walking in humble silence, all wearing black, many with elaborate funeral headpieces and veils.
As a regular mourner, well toward the back, I saw little of this. We followed those in front of us in slow procession winding through the streets. All we could see, in front and behind us, was streets crammed with people. In some more hilly spots, we might catch a glimpse of red, even the bier, above or below us. But for the most part, we just followed in silence.
It was this silence that struck me most forcibly. From time to time, the procession stopped while the Rebels performed their street theatre. We mourners just waited patiently to start moving again. The bass drums reverberating between the buildings, but with no moving traffic and engines mostly turned off, no conversation in the procession, all I heard was birdsong and a faint twittering from the onlookers on the sidelines. And this on a fine Spring Saturday afternoon when the city was full of shopping crowds.
When we reached the Circus, we mourners were directed to move around in both directions to form an outer circle witnessing the ceremony that honoured Mother Earth: the bier resting under the centre trees, attended by the bearers, while the drums sounded and the Red Rebels circled around. Of course, the whole event was brilliantly conceived and organized, with huge amounts of work and commitment from so many people, supported by the history of Extinction Rebellion. Yet there was little obvious direction, no bossiness, no sense of anybody’s ego attached. I felt we had all gathered together as a community in service to Gaia.
“This represents the very best we humans can be”, I said to myself. And after a lifetime of teaching and leadership, I felt there was something significant taking my place as an ordinary mourner in this ceremony. No personal drama, not having to be special, just turning up with intent to be fully present. We can all do that.
I too found it a very meditative experience, walking as a Red Rebel, and enjoyed the moments of complete stillness and silence. But the drums gave it just the right note of urgency and attention. And because it was more performance art than protest, it allowed more for open curiosity from the spectators.
A great way to make a strong statement. Will The Guardian notice on the weekly Sunday 'positive news' column?