Dipterocarp and other timber logs being taken by logging truck in a tropical rainforest, Sabah, Borneo. (Photo Courtesy of T. R. Shankar Raman/Wikimedia Commons)
“The Schanfar Side” is a weekly environmental column from CUI writer Sam Schanfarber.
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On November 3rd, Swiss publisher Bergli Books decided to release a controversial book detailing allegations of illegal logging in the forests of Borneo, despite a London law firm’s efforts to stop its publication. The book claims that a Malaysian governor, Abdul Taib, is involved in an illegal logging operation — illegal logging is the removal, transport or sale of wood from regions where it’s illegal to do so. Author Lukas Straumann has already published the book in German, but Taib’s lawyers at London’s Mischon de Reya firm are fighting to block the book’s English release, going so far as to demand that Amazon remove the text from its web store. Although the author, publisher and purveyors of the book stand by its claims, Taib’s guilt has yet to be proven by a court.
Isn’t it time we had a global body that was able to judge who, in scenarios pertaining to the environment, is actually at fault?
In the case of the Borneo rainforest, figuring out exactly which party is to blame for the destruction of delicate environments will lead not to arrests and jail time, but to simple accountability. Giving constituents in an affected environmental disaster zone the ability to at least identify the destructors not only increases transparency, but also encourages participation and passion from an informed voting public.
Additionally, if a global entity were to positively identify governments working against the greater good of the environment, it would give other nations a chance to use “soft power” approaches to curbing the atrocities being committed. While it’s unlikely the body would have the power to make formal arrests, much like the United Nations council, the body would simply point out bad eggs and let powerful nations like the United States carry about punishment, likely in the form of altered trade agreements. By formally deeming certain government actions irresponsible, said entity could encourage the global political community to hold governments accountable for their actions.
As the billionaire governor of the Malaysian state of Sarawak, Taib owes it to his constituency to reveal exactly how much he knew of the illegal logging operation in neighboring Borneo. If Straumann’s novel is as valid as his publisher claims, Taib not only knew about the logging, but also spearheaded the operation and reaped the profits. Thus, it would be unsurprising if his popularity in Sarawak plummeted, and the scandal effectively ended his political career.
But suppose Taib was truthful, and the illegal logging in the Borneo rainforests was as foreign to him as baseball and hot dogs. A trusted global court clearing his name would be just as valuable to society as a conviction. Mob justice can be swift, particularly in developing nations, and having the ability to debunk false accusations would give governments a chance to get on top of environmental scandals themselves.
While it may seem that travesties like that of the Borneo rainforest logging are too far from home to be worthy of enacting a global environmental protection court, one need only consider the recent actions of American-based global oil company Chevron to validate the presence of such a court. In 2012, the Ecuadorian Supreme Court ordered Chevron to pay $9.5 billion in environmental damages to the Ecuadorian rainforest. In a case that has spanned over more than two decades, Ecuador claimed that actions by Texaco — now owned by Chevron — destroyed much of the environment. Chevron, who has a U.S. law firm currently fighting that ruling back and forth in a New York court, is adamantly refusing to pay up.
In cases like this, where blame has been legitimately and formally placed but prosecution lies over multiple international borders, it’s nearly impossible for Ecuador to acquire the damages without direct cooperation from Chevron. Unsurprisingly, Chevron has denied involvement, claiming that the actions caused by Texaco prior to being owned by Chevron have nothing to do with Chevron today. While Chevron wouldn’t have much luck with that argument domestically, because of the difficulties of seeking reparations across borders, Ecuador is unlikely to see the payment they deserve.
This is exactly where the second opinion of a global environmental court would come into play. Despite the legitimacy of the Ecuadorian courts, Chevron can dodge payment by extending the legal battle in other countries’ courts. However, if a body highly regarded and frequently cited by most foreign governments were to place Chevron at blame as well, the company would have a much harder time refusing to pay up. Support for an anti-Chevron campaign domestically would hit much harder than in Ecuador, as the bulk of Chevron’s shareholders and business come from Western prominence.
An international environmental protection court would be something like a lesser version of the U.N. or the International Criminal Court that deals with genocide and other international violent crimes — organizations should be held formally accountable for crimes against the environment as well. But in certain circumstances, arrests and punishments don’t have to be as steadfast and formal as others. When it comes to holding environmental criminals responsible, sometimes the easiest way to seek reparations is with a bit of international pressure. A dedicated international environmental court would only give powerful democracies the incentive to apply.
Contact CU Independent Staff Writer Sam Schanfarber at samuel.schanfarber@colorado.edu
