Excerpted from Biopiracy: The Plunder of Nature and Knowledge

Vandana Shiva

 

In a world characterized by diversity, globalization can only be realized by ripping apart society’s plural fabric along with its capacity to self-organize. At the political and cultural level, it is this freedom to self-organize that Gandhi saw as the basis of interaction between different societies and cultures. “I want the cultures of all lands to be blown about as freely as pos­sible, but I refuse to be blown off my feet by any,” said Gandhi.

 

Globalization is not the cross-cultural interaction of di­verse societies; it is the imposition of a particular culture on all of the others. Nor is globalization the search for ecological bal­ance on a planetary scale. It is the predation of one class, one race, and often one gender of a single species on all of the oth­ers. The “global” in the dominant discourse is the political space in which the dominant local seeks global control, freeing itself of responsibility for the limits arising from the impera­tives of ecological sustainability and social justice. In this sense, the “global” does not represent a universal human interest; it represents a particular local and parochial interest and culture that has been globalized through its reach and control, its irre­sponsibility and lack of reciprocity.

 

Globalization has occurred in three waves. The first wave was the colonization of America, Africa, Asia, and Australia by European powers over 1,500 years. The second imposed a Western idea of “development” during the postcolonial era of the past five decades. The third wave of globalization, un­leashed approximately five years ago, is known as the era of “free trade.” For some commentators, this implies an end to history; for the Third World, it is a repeat of history through recolonization. The impact of each wave of globalization is cu­mulative, even as it creates discontinuity in the dominant meta­phors and actors. And each time a global order has tried to wipe out diversity and impose homogeneity, disorder and dis­integration have been induced, not removed.

 

 

Globalization I: Colonialism

 

When Europe first colonized the diverse lands and cultures of the world, it also colonized nature. The transformation of the perception of nature during the industrial and sci­entific revolutions illustrates how “nature” was transformed in the European mind from a self-organizing, living system to a mere raw material for human exploitation, needing manage­ment and control.

 

“Resource” originally implied life. Its root is the Latin resur­gere, or “to rise again.” In other words, resource means self-regen­eration. The use of the term “resource” for nature also implied a relationship of reciprocity between nature and humans.2

 

With the rise of industrialism and the colonialism, a shift in meaning took place. “Natural resources” became inputs for industrial commodity production and colonial trade. Nature was transformed into dead and manipulable matter. Its capac­ity to renew and grow had been denied.

 

The violence against nature, and the disruption of its deli­cate interconnections, was a necessary part of denying its self-organizing capacity. And this violence against nature, in turn, translated into violence in society.

 

Anything not fully managed or controlled by European men was seen as a threat. This included nature, non-Western societies, and women. What was self-organized was considered wild, out of control, and uncivilized. When self-organization is perceived as chaos, it creates a context to impose a coercive and violent order for the betterment and improvement of the “other,” whose intrinsic order is then disrupted and destroyed.

 

Most non-Western cultures have regarded the wild as sa­cred, viewing its diversity as a source of inspiration for democ­racy and freedom. Rabindranath Tagore, India’s national poet, writing in Tapovan at the peak of the independence movement, saw democracy in society as derived from the principles of diver­sity in nature, whose highest expression is found in the forest. The diverse processes of renewal that are always at play in the forest — varying from species to species, from season to season, in sight, sound, and smell — have fueled the culture of Indian soci­ety.  The unifying principle of life in diversity, of democratic plu­ialism, thus became the principle of Indian civilization.3

 

Whenever Europeans “discovered” the native peoples of America, Africa, or Asia, they identified them as savages in need of redemption by a superior race. Even slavery was justi­fied on these grounds. To carry Africans into slavery was seen as an act of benevolence, transporting them from the “endless night of savage barbarism” into the embrace of a “superior civi­lization.”

 

The West’s fear of the wild and its associated diversity is closely linked to the imperative of human domination, and the control and mastery of the natural world. Thus, Robert Boyle, the famous scientist who was also governor of the New England Company in the 1760s, saw the rise of mechanical philosophy as an instrument of power not just over nature, but also over the original inhabitants of America. He explicitly declared his inten­tion of ridding the New England Indians of their absurd notions about the workings of nature. Boyle attacked their perception of nature “as a kind of goddess,” and argued that “the veneration, wherewith men are imbued for what they call nature, has been a discouraging impediment to the empire of man over the inferior creatures of God.’4  The concept of the “empire of man” was thus substituted for the “earth family,” where humans are included in the pluralism of nature’s diversity.

 

This conceptual diminution was essential to the projects of colonization and capitalism. The concept of an earth family excluded the possibilities of exploitation and domination; a de­nial of the rights of nature as well as societies that revere nature was necessary in order to facilitate uncontrolled exploitation and profits.

 

Diversity, as a threat, had to be wiped out of a worldview where European men were the measure of being human and having human rights. As A. W. Crosby observes:

 

Again and again, during the centuries of European Impe­rialism, the Christian view that all men are brothers was to lead to persecution of non-Europeans — he who is my brother sins to the extent that he is unlike me.5

 

All brutality was sanctioned on the basis of the assumed superiority of European men and their exclusive status as fully human. As Basil Davidson observes, the moral justification for invading and expropriating the territory and possessions of other peoples was the assumed “natural” superiority of Europeans to the “tribes without law,” the “fluttered folk and wild.”6

 

Denying other cultures their rights on the basis of their difference from European culture was convenient for taking away their resources and wealth. The church authorized Euro­pean monarchs to attack, conquer, and subdue nonbelievers, to capture their goods and theft territories, and to transfer their lands and properties. Five hundred years ago, Columbus car­ried this worldview to the New World. And millions of people and thousands of other living species lost their right to exist un­der the first wave of globalization.

 

Globalization II: “Development”

 

The war against diversity did not end with colonialism.  The definition of entire nations of people as incomplete and defective Europeans was reincarnated in the “development” ideology, which predicated their salvation on generous assis­tance and advice from the World Bank, the International Mone­tary Fund (IMF) and other financial institutions, and multinational corporations.

 

Development is a beautiful word, suggesting evolution from within. Until the middle of the 20th century, it was syn­onymous with evolution as self-organization. But the ideology of development has implied the globalization of the priorities, patterns, and prejudices of the West. Instead of being self-gen­erated, development is imposed. Instead of coming from within, it is externally guided. Instead of contributing to the maintenance of diversity, development has created homogene­ity and uniformity.

 

The Green Revolution is a prime example of the develop­ment paradigm. It destroyed diverse agricultural systems adapted to the diverse ecosystems of the planet, globalizing the culture and economy of an industrial agriculture. It wiped out thousands of crops and crop varieties, substituting them with monoculiures of rice, wheat, and maize across the Third World. It replaced internal inputs with capital- and chemical-intensive inputs, creating debt for farmers and death for ecosystems.

 

The Green Revolution did not merely unleash violence against nature. By creating an externally managed and globally controlled agriculture, it sowed the seeds for violence in society.

 

Rural development in general, and the Green Revolution in particular, assisted by foreign capital and planned by foreign experts, were prescribed as means for peace by politically stabi­lizing rural areas and preventing areas outside of China from falling under the influence of the Red Revolution. After two decades, however, the invisible ecological, political, and cul­tural costs of the Green Revolution became apparent At the political level, the Green Revolution turned out to produce rather than reduce conflict. At the material level, high yields of commercial grain generated new scarcities at the ecosystem level, in turn generating new sources of conflict. At the cultural level, the homogenization processes of the Green Revolution led to the resurgence of ethnic and religious identity.7

 

The ecological and ethnic crises in the Third World can be viewed as arising from a basic and unresolved conflict between the demands of diversity, decentralization, and democracy on the one hand, and uniformity, centralization, and militarization on the other. Control over nature and people was an essential element of the centralized and centralizing strategy of the Green Revolution. Ecological breakdown in nature and the po­litical breakdown of society were the implications of a policy based on tearing apart both nature and society.

 

The Green Revolution was based on the assumption that technology is a superior substitute for nature, and hence, a means of producing growth unconstrained by nature’s limits. Conceptually and empirically, viewing nature as a source of scarcity and technology as a source of abundance leads to tech­nologies that create new scarcities in nature through ecological destruction. Green Revolution practices, for example, reduced the availability of fertile land and the genetic diversity of crops, thereby creating scarcity.

 

The Green Revolution’s shift from cropping systems based on diversity and internal inputs to ones based on uni­formity and external inputs did not merely change the ecologi­cal processes of agriculture. It also changed the structure of social and political relationships, from those based on mutual (though asymmetric) obligations—within the village—to rela­tions between individual cultivators and their banks, seed and fertilizer agencies, food procurement agencies, and electricity and irrigation organizations. Atomized and fragmented, culti­vators relating directly to the state and the market generated an erosion of cultural norms and practices. Further, since the ex­ternally supplied inputs were scarce, it set up conflict and com­petition between classes and between regions, and sowed the seeds of violence and conflict.

 

The centralized planning and allocation that made the Green Revolution possible affected not only people’s lives, but it also affected their very idea of self. With government as refe­ree, handing down decisions in all matters, each frustration be­came a political issue. In a context of diverse communities, that centralized control led to communal and regional conflict. Every policy decision translated into the politics of “we” and “they”—”we” have been unjustly treated, while “they” have gained privileges unfairly.

 

As Francine Frankel wrote in 1972 in The Political Chal­lenge of the Green Revolution:

It is not too early, moreover, to consider one major impli­cation of this analysis, namely that disruption is accelerated to so rapid a rate that the time available for autonomous ie­equilibrating processes, even if such processes are opera­tive … is critically curtailed. Thus in the absence of countervailing initiatives, forces already in motion will push traditional societies in rural areas to a total break­down.8

 

In 1972, the prediction of breakdown seemed farfetched; yet in 1984, two Sikh extremists assassinated Indira Gandhi. Two thousand Sikhs were massacred in Dethi as a backlash. In 1986, 598 people were killed in Punjab; one year later, the num­ber was 1,544.  In 1988, the number had risen to 3,000.

 

The rapid and large-scale introduction of Green Revolu­tion technologies dislocated social structures and political proc­esses at two levels. It created growing disparities among classes, while also increasing the commercialization of social relations. As Frankel observed, the Green Revolution com­pletely eroded social norms. “In those regions where the new technology has been most extensively applied, it has accom­plished what a century of disruption under colonial rule failed to achieve, the virtual elimination of the stabilizing residuum of traditional society.”

 

While Frankel had predicted social breakdown, she had seen it as emerging from class conflict. Yet as the Green Revo­lution unfolded, communal and ethnic aspects came to the fore. Modernization and economic development may, as in the case of Punjab, harden ethnic identifies, provoking or intensifing conflicts on the basis of religion, culture, or race.

 

To a large extent, the movements for regional, religious, and ethnic revival are movements for the recovery of diversity in the context of homogenization. The paradox of separatism, however, is that it searches for diversity within a framework of uniformity. It is a search for identity in a structure based on erasure and erosion of identities. The shift from Sikh farmers demanding their rights to the demand for a separate Sikh state comes from the collapse of horizontally organized, diverse communities into atomized individuals linked vertically to state power through electoral politics.

 

The homogenization processes of development do not fully wipe away differences. Differences persist — not in the in­tegrating context of plurality, but in the fragmenting context of homogenization. Positive pluralities give way to negative du­alities, in competition with each other, contesting for the scarce resources that define economic and political power. Diversity is mutated into duality, into the experience of exclusion. The in­tolerance of diversity becomes a new social disease, leaving communities vulnerable to breakdown and violence, decay and destruction. The intolerance of diversity and the persistence of cultural differences sets one community against another in a context created by a homogenizing state, carrying out a ho­mogenizing project of development. Difference, instead of lead­ing to the richness of diversity, becomes the basis for division and an ideology of separation.

 

Globalization Ill: “Free Trade”

Globalization and homogenization are now being carried out not by nation states, but by global powers that control global markets. “Free trade” is the ruling metaphor for globalization in our times. But far from protecting the free­dom of citizens and countries, free trade negotiations and treaties have become the primary locations for the use of co­ercion and force. The Cold War era has ended, the era of trade wars has begun.

 

Among the exemplars of violence in the free trade era is the U.S. Trade Act, especially the Super and Special 301 clauses that allow the United States to take unilateral action against any country that does not open up its market to U.S. corpora­tions. Super 301 forces freedom for investment; Special 301 forces freedom for monopoly control of markets through intel­lectual property rights protection. Free trade is, in fact, an asymmetric arrangement that combines liberalization and pro­tectionism for Western interests. As Martin Khor has said, “Free trade and liberalization were only nice slogans waved to move the [Uruguay] Round forward. The reality was ‘liberalization if it benefits us, protectionism if it benefits us, what counts is our self-interest.’”9

 

Third World countries had resisted the expansion of GATT into new areas, like services, investments, and intellec­tual property rights. By merely affixing “trade related” to is­sues that are decided domestically, GATT, through the World Trade Organization, will not merely regulate international trade, but, in essence, will determine domestic policy.


 

This brute force continued to be used against the Third World even in the multilateral negotiations of the Uruguay Round of GATT. In a speech, Fernando Jaramillo, Chair of the Group of 77 and Colombia’s permanent representative to the United Nations, said, “The Uruguay Round is proof again the developing world continues to be sidelined and rejected when it comes to defining areas of vital importance to their survival.”10

 

The very process itself is undemocratic and unilateral. Free trade treaties like GATT are forced on citizens and weaker trading partners, such as Third World countries. In 1991, for in­stance, a take-it-or-leave-it draft was prepared by GATT Secre­tary General Arthur Dunkel, which, in India, has taken on the not so pleasant acronym of DDT (Dunkel Draft Text). An even more blatant example is the last stage of GATT negotiations in December 1993, in which two men — Micky Kantor, the U.S. trade representative, and Leon Brittany, the negotiator for the European Community — sat behind closed doors and then pre­sented the world with a “free trade” treaty. Despite insisting that the negotiations were global, the countries of the North re­fused in the end to accept any discussions, even bilaterally, with the countries of the Third World. This is neither multilat­eralism nor global democracy.

 

A new authoritarian structure emerges, as Ambassador Jaramillo observes:

The Bretton Woods Institutions continue to be made the center of gravity for the principal economic decisions that affect the developing countries. We have all been wit­nesses to the conditionalities of the World Bank and the IMF. We all know the nature of the decisionniaking sys­tem in such institutions; their undemocratic character, their lack of transparency, their dogmatic principles, their lack of pluralism in the debate of ideas, and their impo­tence to influence the policies of the industrialized coun­tries

 

This also seems to be applicable to the new World Trade Organization. The terms of its creation suggest that this organization wifi be dominated by the industrialized countries and that its fate will be to align itself with the World Bank and IMP.

 

We could announce in advance the birth of a New Institu­tional Trinity which would have as its specific function to control and dominate the economic relations that commit the developing world.11

 

In reality, free trade has vastly expanded the freedom and powers of transnational corporations to trade and invest in most countries of the world, while significantly reducing the powers of national governments in order to restrict their opera­tions. Multinational corporations, the real power in the Uru­guay Round, have gained new rights and given up old obligations to protect workers’ rights and the environment.

 

Free trade is not free; it protects the economic interests of the powerful transnational corporations, which already control 70 percent of the world’s trade and for whom international trade is an imperative. Transnational corporate freedom is based on the destruction of citizens’ freedom everywhere, and the little remnants of independence that the Third World had after the last two waves of colonization. In essence, GATT crip­ples the democratic institutions of individual countries—local councils, regional governments, and parliaments—leaving them unable to carry out the will of their citizens.

 

While GATT might increase the volume of internationally traded goods and services, it will also increase unemployment and generate scarcity for those excluded from the global econ­omy. The Indian commerce minister admitted in 1994 that un­employment in India will increase dramatically as a result of GATT.  In Germany, the unemployment rate is expected to go up from 7.4 to 11.3 percent.  France is moving from 9.5 to 12.1 percent, Britain from 9.7 to 10.4 percent. The top 1,000 British companies shed 1.5 million jobs in one year. Their total work-force dropped from 8.6 million to just over 7 million. The French Assembly anticipates that French unemployment will rise by 3.5 million in the next 10 years. According to Jeremy Rifkin in his book The End of Work, in the United States, 90 mil­lion jobs out of a total of 120 million are vulnerable to displace­ment by the restructuring of production.12  A recent Wall Street Journal article projects that 1.5 to 2.5 million American jobs could be lost each year for the foreseeable future.

 

Countries are also reducing security benefits for workers.  France announced a pension freeze; Germany reduced unem­ployment benefits. A leaked U.K. government document sug­gests plans to deregulate worker health and safety regulations. These range from ending the requirement for employers to pro­vide toilet paper and soap at work to partial ending of controls on industrial hazards.

 

Instead of protecting workers’ rights domestically, and in­stead of ending the structural adjustment policies of the World Bank that lower Third World wages, the industrialized coun­tries now argue that low wages in the Third World lead to “so­cial dumping” in international trade and that trade sanctions are necessary to protect rich countries.

 

Hundreds of millions of farmers’ livelihoods around the world are under threat from GATT and the new biotechnolo­gies. The “producer retirement” programs in the agriculture treaty are basically a displacement policy for farmers. In addi­tion, monopoly control of seeds and plant varieties further add to the displacement pressures on the small farmers of the Third World who are the original breeders and custodians of plant genetic resources.

 

In response to the violence of free trade, its victims will react. For example, the January 1, 1994 revolt of the Zapatistas in the Chiapas region of Mexico, in the year that coincided with the beginning of the North American Free Trade Agreement, cost 107 lives. According to a rebel leader, “The free trade agreement is a death certificate for the Indian peoples of Mex­ico.” Inspired by the Chiapas rebellion, other groups in Mexico are coming out in protest. As the leader of the National Coali­tion of Indigenous Peoples said, “Don’t test us, because Zapa­tistas could appear all over the country.”

 

The structural adjustment programs of the IMF and World Bank, which tried to establish free trade in the pie-GATT era, indicate the three levels of violence created by the third wave of globalization.

 

First, there is the violence of the structural adjustment programs themselves, which rob people of food, health care, and education.

 

When people’s very survival is threatened, they protest to protect their rights. These protests, in turn, face repression from regimes committed to the structural adjustment conditionalities of the World Bank and IMF. A Peruvian economist has esti­mated that in the several outbreaks of protest against structural adjustment programs, nearly 3,000 people have died, 7,000 have been wounded, and 15,000 have been arrested.

 

Finally, the economic and political vulnerability created by robbing people of their self-organizing, self-governing, and self-provisioning capacities also creates conditions for engineered violence, in which vested interests organize vulnerable groups along ethnic and religious lines to declare war on each other. No continent is free of such civil wars, engineered along the fractures of racial, religious, or ethnic differences. The end of the Cold War has, in fact, seen war introduced on a global scale in civil society. Diversity has been transformed into a problem in a globalizing and homogenizing world.

 

The experiences of Somalia and Rwanda are vivid illus­trations of the manifold violence of globalization.

 

The Somalian crisis has been interpreted as a residue of “tribalism.” According to Michel Chossudovsky, however, the civil war in Somalia is more intimately connected to the effects of globalization in the form of structural adjustment programs. Somalia had a pastoral economy based on exchange between nomadic herdsmen and small peasants; it remained virtually self-sufficient in terms of food. Livestock made up 80 percent of Somalia’s export earnings until 1983.

 

The IMF-World Bank adjustment programs in the 1980s destroyed Somalia’s economic and social fabric. Devaluation and liberalization of imports led to an erosion of domestic agri­cultural production. Food aid increased 15-fold between the mid-’70s arid mid-’80s, leading to the displacement of farmers. Privatization of veterinary services and water resources led to a collapse of the livestock sector. As Chossudovsky reports:

The IMF-World Bank program has led the Somali econ­omy into a vicious circle: the decimation of the herds pushed the nomadic pastoralists into starvation which in turn backlashed on grain producers who sold or bartered their grain for cattle. The entire social fabric of the pastor­alist economy was undone. The collapse in foreign ex­change earnings from declining cattle exports and remittances backlashed on the balance of payments and the state’s public finances leading to the breakdown of the government’s economic and social program.t3

 

The Rwandan genocide had similar links to the globaliza­tion processes of structural adjustment In 1989, the Interna­tional Coffee Agreement reached a deadlock, and worldwide coffee prices plunged by more than 50 percent. Rwanda’s ex­port earnings from coffee declined by 50 percent between 1987 and 1991.

 

In November 1990, a 50 percent devaluation of the Rwan­dan franc was carried out under the World Bank-JMF adjust­ment program. The balance of payments situation deteriorated dramatically, and the outstanding external debt, which had al­ready doubled since 1985, increased by another 34 percent be­tween 1989 and 1992. In June 1992, another devaluation was ordered, leading to a 25 percent decrease in coffee production. Chossudovsky explains:

 

The crisis of the coffee economy backlashed on the pro­duction of cassava, beans and sorghum. The system of savings and loan cooperatives which provided credit to small farmers had also disintegrated. Moreover, with the liberalization of trade and the deregulation of grain mar­kets as recommended by the Bretton Woods Institutions, heavily subsidized cheap food imports and food aid from the rich countries were entering Rwanda with the effect of destabilizing local markets.14

 

Everywhere, globalization leads to the destruction of local economies and social organization, pushing people into insecu­rity, fear, and civil strife. The violence against people’s liveli­hoods builds up into the violence of war.

 

There is only one way to contain these epidemics of vio­lence. We must, with sensitivity and responsibility, wherever and whoever we are, once again make peace with diversity. We have to learn that diversity is not a recipe for conflict or chaos, but is our only chance for a more sustainable and just future — in social, political, economic, and environmental terms. It is our only means to survival.