This is the sixth and final part of my series of reflections on the “c-o-s-m-o-s remedy” proposed in opposition to the “ideology of e-s-c-a-p-e” by Jem Bendell in Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos (UK/USA 2021).

#1: Reflections on Compassion
#2: Reflections on Openness
#3: Reflections on Serenity
#4: Reflections on Mutuality
#5: Reflections on Oneness

In contrast to the habit of Exceptionalism in e-s-c-a-p-e ideology, which means assuming ‘I am annoyed in this world because much about it upsets me and so I believe I’m better and/or needed…,’ Bendell proposes that Solidarity involves acting from the part of you that knows ‘our common sadness and frustration arise from our mutual love for all life and motivate us towards fairness, justice and healing’ (p. 147).

Solidarity is defined as unity (as a group or class) that produces or is based on community of interests, objectives, and standards (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). As he so often does, Bendell calls us to look at the essence of what drives our shared sense of solidarity as a group or class.

For some unknown reason, I do not use the word ‘solidarity.’ Yet, I’m very familiar with the word since my childhood growing up in then British Guiana during the 1950s and 1960s. Whenever I hear the word, I immediately recall the song “Solidarity Forever” that played every day on our local radio stations. Though I don’t remember the verses, I can still sing the chorus:

Solidarity forever!
Solidarity forever!
Solidarity forever!
For the Union makes us strong!

I later learned that it was the anthem of the workers’ unions, mainly the agricultural workers, who were fighting for better wages, workplace safety, and living conditions. Could it be that I associate the word with its negative images of danger to one’s safety?

In those early days of my youth, the managers and owners of the sugar plantations and factories across the colony were hostile towards striking workers. They were known to hire thugs to terrorize the workers on the picket line. To join picket lines in a show of solidarity came with the risk of losing one’s job, being beaten, teargassed, or even killed. Such risks did not change when we became an independent nation in May 1966.

On Saturday morning, July 14, 1979, after celebrating Mass and having his breakfast, Father Bernard Darke SJ spent the morning marking examination papers at the Catholic high school where he taught the Scriptures and Mathematics. As Scouts Master, the British Jesuit priest also made plans with some of the scouts for their annual camp. At the request of the Editor of the Catholic Standard newspapers, he had his cameras with him to take photos of a political demonstration to be held outside the Magistrates’ Court.

During a period of civil rebellion against the dictatorship government, leading members of the opposition party Working People’s Alliance (WPA) had been arrested and charged with burning down the building housing the Ministry of National Development. As peaceful demonstrators marched along the street heading towards the court, Father Darke stood on the sidelines, in front of the school building, taking photographs.

The demonstrators were about 65 feet (20 meters) away from him when thugs, armed with wooden staves, cutlasses, and knives, charged into the picket line. The crowd scattered in all directions. Father Darke captured the confusion with his camera. Across the two-lane roadway, three men attacked the Assistant Editor of the Catholic Standard newspapers, who was covering the story. After receiving a blow to the head, the Assistant Editor fell to the ground, bleeding. In taking photos of the attack, Father Darke became the next target. He tried fleeing to safety, but the two cameras slung around his neck slowed him down. After beating him to the ground with wooden staves, one of the three assailants stabbed him in the back with an old bayonet. That evening, shortly after 6:00 p.m., he died in hospital from a ruptured lung.

Serving in the Guyana Mission since 1960, Father Bernard Darke SJ (1925-1979) was a quiet man who did not seek attention. He served in the Royal Navy during World War II and joined the Jesuit Order in 1946. His killing in broad daylight shook us all in the Catholic community.

Working for change in unjust social, economic, and political systems involves taking life-changing risks. Solidarity can come with a steep price. I don’t join picket lines or take part in mass public demonstrations. I lack such courage. I prefer to contribute in quiet ways: speaking out, making posters and banners, spreading awareness, listening to and engaging with others, and changing my behavior.

Solidarity in our fight to save Earth’s pollinators and other endangered species!
Solidarity in our fight for clean air and clean water!
Solidarity in our fight to end humanity’s dependence on fossil fuels!
Solidarity makes us strong!