#StopAdani

An intro to Australia’s anti-coal movement

Community organizing is a form of expressing love. It’s a commitment to genuine relationship building and an investment in the possibility of living in this world as fuller versions of ourselves. Yet, knowing this did not stop me from worrying that no community organizer would be willing to speak with me during my month in Sydney. After spending the first couple of days in the city catastrophizing, my fear was quickly proven irrational when an organizer working in the #StopAdani movement responded to my overly enthusiastic facebook message. 

The #StopAdani movement started in Australia around ten years ago when Adani, a coal conglomerate in India, bid on a mining lease in Queensland. The mine was set to be built on the lands of the Wangan and Jagalingou peoples, violating indigenous sovereignty and poisoning their land, waters, and air. A decade of mobilizing thousands of people to target potential investors and insurance backers; and to call out Adani’s greenwashing efforts, has made it incredibly difficult for the Adani group to secure funding for the project. While the persistence of the grassroots movement has led to the cancellation of other potential mining projects across the Galilee Basin, the Adani group barely managed to scrape together funding for the Carmichael mine through inter-company loans (i.e. funneled money from other shady side hustles). Despite this, #StopAdani remains a powerful force for change as it gears towards a new phase of the campaign called #MoveBeyondCoal — a movement aiming to make it impossible for all international companies to set up coal mining export operations within Australia. 

As I see it, the coal industry here can be divided into mining operations that are solely for international export, mines that have coal-fired power stations contributing to the national energy grid, and those that dabble in both. All these industries produce enormous levels of particulate matter and are the biggest sources of Australia’s air pollution. 

However, the global coal economy and the national coal economy are two drastically different organizing arenas. 

On one hand, conversation around transitioning Australia’s energy use to 100% renewables in the near future has led to community organizers centering Just Transition principles and prioritizing safe mine rehabilitation within coal-fired power station communities. On the other hand, mine expansions and new mines focused on increasing exports are threatening farmers’ livelihoods and many First Nations’ land rights. 

While one community is operating with a closure date in mind, another is fighting to stop a start date from ever approaching. 

Before my arrival, I had seen all coal-impacted communities in Australia as a monolith, but I’m starting to realize that the anti-coal movement is far more diverse than I’d expected. The organizing goals, the demographics of impacted populations, and the impacts of extraction are unique to each community. As I prepare to travel to some of these communities over the next two months, I find myself invigorated by the challenge of making sense of how one community’s struggle for climate justice is connected to another’s. 

My first stop on this journey is Waddananggu, the one year celebration of the Wangan and Jagalingou reoccupation of their lands. One year ago, Wangan and Jagalingou Cultural Custodians set up a ceremonial ring near the Adani mine as an act of resistance and as a way of asserting their cultural and land sovereignty. Today, the W&J peoples continue to practice their cultural traditions and have invited the larger organizing community to join them. I am grateful for the community organizers I’ve met in Sydney, who, despite knowing me for such little time, are lending me their tents, sleeping bags, and other necessities to make this trip a reality. Like I said, community organizing is a way of expressing love, and I’ve sure been feeling very loved lately.