Alan Jeffers, an ExxonMobil spokesman, responds that the company has never asked any such organization to take a position and has discontinued funding to some of them. While he won't comment directly on the Kivalina case, he insists that ExxonMobil views climate change very seriously. "We're taking action to reduce emissions in our operations and to help consumers reduce theirs through various technologies," Jeffers says, "whether it's making hydro-carbon use more efficient or exploring how to make next-generation alternatives like solar and biofuels more affordable."
Not everyone sees Kivalina as a Native American David confronting a corporate Goliath. "As soon as I heard about that lawsuit on the news, I knew it must be Kivalina," remarks an occasional maintenance worker in the village. "They're just looking for somebody to pay to move their town for them. They have a legitimate case about global warming, but they're totally dependent on fossil fuel. They even drive to the store because they don't want to walk."
Even Kivalina's mayor, Bert Adams, believes that filing lawsuits isn't going to relocate the town. "I think you've got to solve your own problems," he says. "I don't like the blame game." In contrast to Kivalina's approach, the similarly endangered community of Newtok, 470 miles south, recently began moving itself. Although red tape and lack of funds have reportedly delayed that effort, it hasn't kept Kivalina from being viewed unfavorably by comparison. When Colleen Swan visited the capital, she heard that some state legislators consider Kivalina "a handful of disenfranchised militants."
Swan doesn't take comments like that very well. "My grandfather was a priest who told me to turn the other cheek and walk away from people if they give you trouble," she says. "But there are some things you just can't walk away from."
Or swim or fly either. In the event of an unprecedented flood, boats and planes would be of little help in evacuating Kivalina. This summer the Army Corps of Engineers began work on a rock-reinforcement project to provide interim protection, but only a fifth of the necessary length was expected to be completed by fall. Meanwhile, the Corps is bringing in another 5,000 cubic yards of sand. "They're just fumbling in the dark," says Kendall-Miller.
As fall approached, Colleen Swan organized a teleconference between several state and federal agencies to plan for the storm season. The town continues to brace itself, awaiting not only unpredictable weather but a court ruling on whether distant corporations could someday be called to account for its fate.
"Is global warming at its peak, or is it going to get worse? No one knows the answers," Swan says. "We're talking about moving our village in a state that's 65 percent wetlands. You have to wonder if any place is safe."
See a slide show of more images from Kivalina at readersdigest.com/kivalina.




Advertisement






















