Brussels Looks North: The European Union’s Latest Arctic Policy and the Potential for ‘Green’ Colonialism
Sami hut skeleton near a falling river in Finnmark, Norway. Photo: Mark König
Indigenous peoples have inhabited the Arctic since time immemorial, establishing rich regional cultures and governance systems long before the introduction of modern borders. The Arctic Institute’s 2022 Colonialism Series explores the colonial histories of Arctic nations and the still-evolving relationships between settler governments and Arctic Indigenous peoples in a time of renewed Arctic exploration and development.
The Arctic Institute Colonialism Series 2022
- The Arctic Institute Colonialism Series 2022: Introduction
- Neo-Colonial Security Policies in the Arctic
- Brussels Looks North: The European Union’s Latest Arctic Policy and the Potential for ‘Green’ Colonialism
- Poverty, Well-Being and Climate Change in the Arctic: a Musical Perspective
- Colonialism and Reproductive Justice in Arctic Canada: The Neglected Historical and Contemporary Analysis of Genocidal Policies on Arctic Indigeneous Reproductive Rights
- The Delicate Work still undone in the Church of Sweden’s Reconciliation Process
- Selling Stolen Land: A Reexamination of the Purchase of Alaska and its Legacy of Colonialism
- The Old Colonialisms and the New Ones: The Arctic Resource Boom as a New Wave of Settler-Colonialism
- China, Circumpolar Indigenous People and the Colonial Past of the Arctic
- Language, Identity, and Statehood: A Brief Insight into the History of the Minoritization of the Komi People
- Russia’s Colonial Legacy in the Sakha Heartland
- How to Develop Inclusive, Sustainable Urban Spaces in the European Arctic and Beyond – Insights from Kiruna
- The Arctic Institute Colonialism Series 2022: Conclusion
In 2019 the European Commission introduced the European Green Deal. This is an ambitious and far-reaching set of policy initiatives that aim to radically change the economic foundation of the bloc by decarbonizing it from the ground up.1) The goals set are ambitious, to say the least: neutrality by 2050, a legally binding expectation that member states more than half their carbon emissions by 2030, and, to cap it off, a stated pledge that no one will be left behind in the transition.2) This will mean nothing less than the complete economic transformation of the European Union and a bold statement on what the economy of the future should look like.
Amid these great changes, the EU has also begun to reevaluate its relationship with its most remote of policy fringes: the Arctic.3) In 2016 it released its first joint communication focused on the region, which came at a time in which interest in the Arctic had reached global proportions. While not earth-shaking, it was a strong foundation for further development in the region. This resulted in a second joint communication released in 2021.4) In it, the EU positioned itself as a geopolitical actor focused on engaging more fully in the north, while also emphasizing that this would be done to further its goals of a green transition.
Yet, there are EU citizens who are often left behind in these discussions, and they are perhaps the most directly impacted by the warming climate: the Sámi reindeer herders of northern Scandinavia. For centuries, they have been treated as a marginal policy concern by national governments, a mindset that only has changed recently and through great effort on the part of Sámi activists. Though the European Union vows to combat climate change they must manage the transition with care if they do not wish to further burden a reindeer herding tradition that is already facing unprecedented changes brought about by the now unpredictable season.
The Sami and Reindeer Herding: An introduction
To explain how climate policies have the potential to impact a traditional livelihood requires a bit of setup. Starting with the basics, the Sámi are the only recognized Indigenous people within the European Union. Their traditional lands include regions in northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and the Kola peninsula of north-western Russia. This is the Sámi homeland, known as Sápmi in North Sami,5) the largest Sami language.6) Historically, and quite stereotypically, they have been viewed as nomadic people, herding reindeer from place to place across the northern reaches of Fenno-Scandia. As with many such narratives, the reality today is quite different. Centuries of assimilationist and exclusionist policies have meant that most Sámi today live little different than any other EU citizen.
However, the reindeer herding tradition remains a potent symbol of the resilience of Sámi culture despite all. At its most basic, herding consists of directing and maintaining a herd of semi-wild reindeer, driving them from pastureland to pastureland to get the most out of their herds, which typically number in the hundreds.7) This is a year-round occupation and requires a high degree of land-based knowledge, as only certain pastures are useable during a season. This has never been a simple task, but development and legislation have limited the ability for herders to make use of pasture lands they have been using for centuries.
In Norway and Sweden, the industry is protected by law as a Sámi traditional livelihood,8) but that does not mean their land rights are respected in turn.9) The Sámi Parliaments, a form of self-government created in the latter quarter of the 20th century, was implemented in part to protect these rights.10) Yet, the practical reality is that development remains a higher priority than the protection of reindeer herding for national governments.
Further pressure has been placed on the industry in the past decades as a direct result of the changing climate. The seasons, once relatively stable and knowable, have become erratic.11) As mentioned, part of the knowledge required to herd is to know which pastures are useable during each part of the year, particularly during the winter. In a stable climate, traditional knowledge is readily useable and essential as each year is roughly the same as the next. Now, however, winters have become nearly impossible to predict. Some years they come much later than they should, if at all. Other years they arrive without warning and then fade into a wet and rainy season before turning into sheer ice. For herders, this means that the need for artificial feed has become near mandatory to get their reindeer through the year, a costly expense and one that directly impacts the continued viability of the industry.
The Greening of the North
It would be logical to think that the objectives of the European Green Deal would align with the interests of the Sámi reindeer herder. The Deal sets bold climate goals that attempt to make up for the centuries of the carbon-emitting industries now warming the earth. If successful, this would lead to a reduction, or at least stabilization, in the erratic changes brought by the warming world if action is taken at a quick enough pace.
Yet, the sense in Sápmi is one of apprehension, as Sámi representatives question what will be required to bring the weight of the European Union to bear against the climate problem. As far as many Sámi are concerned, the same voice that calls for a radically green economy also is also one that will inevitably demand greater resource extraction to fulfill ambitious climate goals. Wind turbines and solar panels do not build themselves, and for net-zero to be achieved, more resources will be needed to make sustainability a reality. The Sámi know all too well where that road leads.
Take hydroelectric dams, for instance.
Dams are often seen as an important component of a clean energy system. Sweden and Norway have made use of hydroelectricity to fulfill their energy needs for decades for exactly this reason.12) Yet, this has come at the cost of damming rivers and submerging previously natural areas. Disproportionately, Nordic dams have been placed in the far north, where it is deemed that would be less impactful on the local population, which invariably means settled populations. As such, these projects have been repeatedly placed right in the middle of traditional reindeer migration routes. This has forced herders to move further afield in search of river crossings or, worse, find new pastures entirely, upending centuries of traditional practice. Though these projects supply the northern population with energy, they also further marginalize an industry that has repeatedly been forced to make sacrifices with little to show for it.
The Arctic: The Final European Frontier
Based on this history with national governments, the growing interest in the Arctic by the European Union has many Sámi organizations questioning how benevolent its policies will actually be. The European Union currently portrays itself as a body focused on righting a climate gone wrong. Yet image and reality are two different things, especially for a people who are familiar with equally climate-conscious governments who often have other priorities. To this end, it is illustrative to look at how the Arctic and, by extension, those living there, are perceived in the EU’s Arctic policies.
As mentioned in the introduction, the EU’s first stab at Arctic policy was published in early 2016. It was titled An integrated European Union policy for the Arctic and read like a compilation of the great hits of arctic policies past with a European twist. The primary commitments that the Commission offered were a focus on climate change and safeguards for the environment alongside sustainable development, and a broadly defined desire for greater international cooperation.13) As a gesture of apparent goodwill, Indigenous voices were acknowledged as being important to the development of the Arctic with a commitment to involve them in dialogue regarding further policy decisions.
The most recent joint communication on the subject was a much more confident second step. Titled A stronger EU engagement for a peaceful, sustainable, and prosperous Arctic, the new policy brought a different framing to the EU’s interactions in the region. Unlike the previous policy, the 2021 document spelled out that the EU viewed itself as a geopolitical actor that would be fully engaged with the goings-on in the region and intended to see to it that its interests will have weight.14) This was further emphasized by a shuffling of priorities, in which cooperation took on a more security-oriented flavor, while the environment and sustainable development took second and third billing, respectively.
This newfound geopolitical focus was as much an extension of the Green New Deal as it is a renewal of its 2016 predecessor. Perhaps the most notable example of this is the call to leave oil, coal, and gas in the ground, with the potential of placing full moratoriums on oil exploration in the Arctic.15) Unsurprisingly, this has been quite controversial in some circles, particularly in Norway but also elsewhere.
Yet this desire to reduce hydrocarbon production in the north is contrasted by a clear desire to increase the development of other products in the north, particularly the mining of minerals. With the changes that have happened on the world stage since the original publishing of the 2021 document, it remains to be seen also how strongly the EU will hold to these commitments. Taken in context, the 2021 policy spelled out a green transition that will require further land use, and the Arctic is a potential source for all manner of resources.
New Actors, Old Politics
In Norway, mineral surveys have already shown that there is potentially a rich store of cobalt and tellurium to be found just north of Kautokeino, a center of Sámi culture.16) This is just the beginning, as more mining companies will come to re-examine the viability of finding rare earth metals and other important green materials. The northern parts of Norway and Sweden are already pockmarked with mines deep into the territory that the Sámi call home. The green transition will require more mines and further development.
The increased interest in the north does not bode well for the traditional Sámi way of life, as without proper consultation and care, further development would be nothing less than a continuation of a centuries-old system of marginalization for development’s sake.
For centuries Sámi traditional practices were ignored, their languages suppressed, and their lands taken.17) The choice was to be assimilated or fade, a similar logic to the First Nations of Canada and Australia. As the 20th century wore on, there was a lessening of the more overt forms of marginalization, but the same sort of colonialism thinking remains. The land that makes up Sápmi is sparsely populated and, relatively, resource-rich. This makes it ideal for development according to the logic of developers and governments.
The environmental justification provided by the European Green Deal simply offers a further moral dimension to an argument that has been made for centuries. For the Sámi, and those who live just as far north, the further development and destruction of the land will only continue a circle of exploitation that began in earnest in the 1700s and has never truly gone away. By portraying the Arctic as a potential source of solution to the problems wrought by climate change, it paves the way for a continuation of age-old marginalizing policies. This is a quiet, but perverse, form of colonialism that has no place in the fight against the changing climate.
What is to be done?
The EU has the potential to avert this and avoid repeating the mistakes of national governments’ past. The Green New Deal Policy provides some of the tools to do so. As mentioned, the primary goal of the European Green Deal is to de-carbonize by 2050. Yet, another, just as significant goal is to ensure that this transition leaves no one behind.18) In policy and media material this is framed as an industrial relations problem, aimed at the hydrocarbon industry and the jobs that will be lost as the bloc moves towards a greater reliance on renewable energy.19) Yet this can, and should, be also framed as a cultural goal as well. Jobs can be replaced, but culturally significant practices such as reindeer herding cannot and should not if this is to be a just transition.
So, what can the EU do to prevent this?
There are a few options, some of which are also already in place. The first and most often cite is a further emphasis on the duty to consult before allowing development on Sámi land. The EU has already enshrined this into the Green New Deal and has stated a clear commitment to the tenets of Free Prior and Informed Consent according to the United Nations Declaration on Indigenous Peoples.20)
Yet, as is often the case, developers do not always follow the proper procedures to do this in the most ethical manner. A Norwegian wind farm is currently learning this the hard way. The Norwegian supreme court ruled in 2021 that a now completed project must be dismantled because it was built without the proper consultation procedures in place.21) This is a major setback, but also a lesson that should be learned, both across the industry but also Europe.
Free, prior, and informed consent is a good foundation to start from, but it should not be the only safeguard put in place to prevent developmental interference. Further steps are required, which should ideally come from those affected by these changes. Each year the European Commission invites stakeholders and Sámi representatives to a two-day meeting on Arctic issues. Called the Arctic Dialog and Indigenous Forum, it is a good example of ways in which this dialogue should occur. However, it is held only once a year, which limits how impactful such a dialogue should be. More room should be made to include indigenous voices in decision-making through greater outreach on the European level.
Ultimately, however, the European Union is bound to the principle of subsidiarity. This means that each member state is responsible for the implementation of the directives set out by the Commission.22) As such, the direction outlined by the 2016 and 2021 Arctic policies serves as a baseline through which the Arctic nations of the union already intend to operate, further guided by the European Green Deal. What this means for the Sámi is that the EU policies serve as a preview of what to expect as the green transition comes further online. Further development, further greening, and further uncertainty of where they fit within all these changes. To prevent a future that is green in principle but exclusionist in practice will require further work on a national level to develop badly needed protections.
Green Colonialism
To conclude, it is best to look to someone who knows first-hand what the future may well hold for her people. Gunn-Brit Retter is the current head of the Saami Council’s Arctic and Environment Unit and she was asked in 2021 what the discovery of new minerals may mean for the Sámi. In her words:
“Sápmi continues to be a source of resources targeted by governments and outside capital. The green shift is nothing more than a continued extraction of resources in Sámi areas, as has been the tradition since the earliest encounters between cultures. The difference is that resource utilization has been given a nice color, green; we call it “green colonization.” We were first colonized by people from outside our lands, then colonized by climate change itself, driven by people from outside our lands, and are now being colonized a third time by responses to climate change.”23)
To echo her words, it is clear that the green transition must happen to combat climate change, it can very easily be done improperly. Without protections in place and a proper understanding of what life is like in the north, the European Union may well repeat the same pattern of colonialism that has marginalized Sámi for centuries. No amount of green paint will change that.
Luke Laframboise is a PhD student employed by the Department of Language Studies at Umeå University, as well as an affiliated researcher at ARCUM (Arctic Centre at Umeå University) and Várdduo (Umeå Centre for Sami Research).
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