By Henry Lamb
BONN -- It's like a Twilight Zone, of sorts. The hotel lobby is teeming with people rushing somewhere, all carrying a stack of papers, many with laptops strung over a shoulder and a cell phone pasted to an ear. Groups of two or three huddle over every available table, papers strewn everywhere. The long corridor to the meeting rooms is lined with tables, each filled with stacks of papers. Uniformed security guards check every handbag and computer case. Every meeting room is full — behind closed doors, guarded by U.N. employees.
From early morning until late at night, day in and day out for two weeks, nearly five thousand people are working feverishly to figure out how to force America to transfer its wealth to the rest of the world.
No, the official press reports don't put it just that way. The officials reports say things such as "Progress was made toward agreements on LULUCF (Land Use and Land Use Change and Forests)," or "U.S. and E.U. at odds over ETR (Emissions Trading Regime)," or "Flexible Mechanisms on Task Force Agenda."
The official reports mean little or nothing to Ronnie Merritt, who raises sheep in New Mexico. What the official reports obscure could determine whether or not Ronnie is able to stay in business. Weyman Dooly is busy running his business. He may or may not even see an official report on the evening news. What the official reports obscure is quite likely to have enormous impact on Weyman's lumber business.
People from countries neither Ronnie nor Weyman have ever heard of, people who have never seen a New Mexico ranch or a Georgia pine tree, are determining the rules by which both Ronnie and Weyman must conduct their businesses in the future. Twilight Zone? You bet! What ever happened to the notion that government is empowered by the consent of the governed?
How many sheep Ronnie raises once was determined by how much grass he could grow, and how many sheep he could sell in a free market. Ronnie, alone, made that decision. The rules now being negotiated could require the federal government to dictate to Ronnie — and virtually every other rancher — precisely how many sheep or cows may occupy an acre of land. Sheep and cows, don't you see, produce methane, a greenhouse gas.
LULUCF describes the rules that govern land use. Vegetation, especially trees, absorb carbon dioxide, another greenhouse gas. When trees are turned into 2x4s, they can't absorb carbon. Weyman is in the business of turning trees into 2x4s. The rules now being negotiated could require the federal government to dictate to Weyman - and virtually every other lumber man — precisely how many trees he can transform. The same rules would apply to every developer and to every person who has not yet experienced the joy of owning his own home.
Why do we allow people from Burkina Faso, Botswana, Bangladesh, Uzbekistan, and other vowel-deficient countries, to make the rules by which we must live? Because we elected a President who wants America to take its place in a global village, ruled by global governance, directed by selected, not elected, individuals who share the common conviction that they know best how everyone else should live. The ultimate objective of global governance is to empower these select individuals to manage the global environment and the global economy to enforce global equity.
A good way to end this foolishness, once and for all, is to schedule the next U.N. meeting at the Convention Center in Alamagordo, New Mexico, and invite all the neighbors to attend. What a sight. Pick up trucks would roll in from miles around, each adorned with a 30-30, and decorated with tale-tell evidence of methane production. The row of tables would be filled , not with paper, but with a rich, brown, rocket fuel they call chili. The cowboy boots, big hats, and blue jeans would be as curious to the delegates as the delegate's brightly colored sarongs would be to the cowboys.
The cowboys would be polite, and welcome their international neighbors, and listen intently to the gobbledegook about JIs and CDMs and ETRs. Should, however, someone stand and denounce the United States for causing an Island Nation to sink because Americans drive too many pick up trucks, there might be a problem. Should one of the Task Forces announce, as it did yesterday in Bonn, that each cow and sheep on every ranch had to be counted and reported to the United Nations, there would likely be some feet-shuffling and whispering. Should the chairman declare that a consensus had been reached to require U.N. approval for any change in land use — well, in such a scenario the Kyoto Protocol would quickly cease to be a problem.
The problem is that the ranchers don't know what is being planned for them. The loggers don't know the extent of controls that are being negotiated. Home owners and aspiring home owners have no idea how this Kyoto Protocol will affect them. That is the what the instigators want. The Kyoto Protocol public relations strategy is to try to convince people that the world is coming to an end unless the Kyoto Protocol is implemented. Never mind what price must be paid. Never mind whether global warming is actually occurring or not. "Ratify the Protocol; give us power to save the world," is the constant drum beat.
Unlike most of the other U.N. treaties that have been imposed, the Kyoto Protocol will have the legal power to force Americans to transform their lives. Unless New Mexico's ranchers and Georgia's loggers, and New England's aspiring home owners, and Nebraska's corn growers, and everyone else, learn what's in store for them, and take appropriate corrective action, the Kyoto Protocol will be implemented. What seems to be a sort of Twilight Zone in Bonn, is nothing compared to the inevitable twilight of American prosperity, should the United Nations ever gain the power to control our use of energy, our environment, or our economy. The negotiations now underway in Bonn, seek to give that control to the United Nations.
Henry Lamb is the executive vice president of the Environmental Conservation Organization (ECO), and chairman of Sovereignty International.