Annals of the American Association of Geographers

ISSN: 2469-4452 (Print) 2469-4460 (Online) Journal homepage: http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/raag21

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent

Assemblage: UNESCO World Heritage and the
Disempowerment of Indigenous Activism in New
Caledonia
Leah S. Horowitz
To cite this article: Leah S. Horowitz (2016) Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent
Assemblage: UNESCO World Heritage and the Disempowerment of Indigenous Activism in
New Caledonia, Annals of the American Association of Geographers, 106:1, 167-185, DOI:
10.1080/00045608.2015.1090270
To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00045608.2015.1090270

Published online: 10 Nov 2015.

Submit your article to this journal

Article views: 57

View related articles

View Crossmark data

Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at

http://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=raag21
Download by: [Princeton University]

Date: 06 January 2016, At: 19:21

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent

Assemblage: UNESCO World Heritage and
the Disempowerment of Indigenous Activism in
New Caledonia
Leah S. Horowitz

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Nelson Institute for Environmental Studies and School of Human Ecology, University of WisconsinMadison
This article draws on Deleuze and Guattaris concepts of arborescent and rhizomic assemblages to examine
encounters between large-scale conservation and grassroots resistance to industry. I explore how the United
Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organizations (UNESCO) World Heritage listing of New
Caledonias reefs contributed to the demise of Rh
e
ebu Nuu, an indigenous activist group that had been targeting a multinational mining project. I also interrogate how an assemblages form enables certain modalities of
power while constraining others and how these differences in power modalities inform relationships between
types of assemblages. Mistakenly expecting assistance in protecting their coral reef from mining impacts,
Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u relinquished the coercive power inherent to their rhizomic form in favor of participation in
UNESCOs arborescent structure via World Heritage management committeesa globally promoted, but
locally inappropriate, comanagement diagram that targeted local fishing activities despite an absence of overfishing. Thus, this article argues that rhizomic structures have unique means of influence, exercised through particular modalities of power, which might be lost through cooptation into arborescent assemblages that exercise
different modalities of power and might employ locally inappropriate diagrams. Ultimately, conservation does
not only result in the extension of state powers, as the literature has shown; as this study demonstrates, it can
surreptitiously support the extension of environmentally damaging industrial development at the expense of
grassroots action. Key Words: conservation, Deleuze and Guattari, environmental governance, multinational mining,
rhizome.
,
(UNESCO) ,
Rh
e
ebu Nuu ,
, , ,
Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u,
, , UNESCO
, ,
, ,
, , ,
, ,
, , , ,
,
Este art
culo se apoya en conceptos de Deleuze y Guattari sobre ensambles arborescentes y riz
omicos para
examinar los encuentros entre la conservaci
on a gran escala y la resistencia que com
unmente se tiene contra la industria. Exploro c

omo contribuy
o el listado de los arrecifes de Nueva Caledonia hecho por el Patrimonio Mundial de la Organizaci

on de las Naciones Unidas para la Educaci
on, la Ciencia y la Cultura
(UNESCO) a la disoluci

on del Rh
e
ebu Nuu, un grupo ind
gena que hab
a tenido en la mira de su activismo a un proyecto minero multinacional. Interrogo tambi
en la forma como un ensamblaje habilita ciertas
modalidades de poder en tanto obstaculiza otras, y c
omo estas diferencias en las modalidades de poder
informan las relaciones entre tipos de ensamblajes. Al equivocarse sobre una supuesta ayuda para proteger
sus arrecifes coralinos de los impactos de la miner
a, el Rh
e
ebu Nuu renunci
o al poder coercitivo inherente
a su forma riz

omica, a cambio de participar en la estructura arborescente de la UNESCO a trav
es de los
comit
es de manejo del Patrimonio Mundialun diagrama de coadministraci
on promovido globalmente,
Annals of the American Association of Geographers, 106(1) 2016, pp. 167185 2016 by American Association of Geographers
Initial submission, August 2014; revised submissions, February and July 2015; final acceptance, August 2015
Published by Taylor & Francis, LLC.

168

Horowitz
pero inapropiado localmente, enfocado contra las actividades locales de pesca a pesar de no existir una
condici

on de sobrepesca. Por eso, este art
culo sostiene que las estructuras riz
omicas tienen medios
unicos
de influencia, que se ejercen a trav
es de modalidades particulares de poder, que pueden perderse a trav
es de
cooptaci

on en ensamblajes arborescentes que ejercen diferentes modalidades de poder y podr
an utilizar
diagramas localmente inapropiados. En

ultimas, la conservaci
on no solo resulta en una ampliaci
on de los
poderes estatales, como se puede ver en la literatura; como este estudio lo demuestra, puede apoyar subrepticiamente la expansi

on del desarrollo industrial ambientalmente da~
nino a expensas de las acciones de
base popular. Palabras clave: conservaci

on, Deleuze y Guattari, gobernanza ambiental, miner
a multinacional,
rizoma.

n early 2008, France awaited the United Nations

Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organizations
(UNESCO) decision on whether to inscribe sections of the coral reefs of New Caledonia, a French
possession in the Southwest Pacific, on the World
Heritage List. Since 2002, Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u, an indigenous
grassroots organization (GRO) in New Caledonia, had
been resisting the planned disposal of effluent into this
reef system from a refinery being constructed by the
multinational mining company Vale. These protestors
insisted that their watchword was no to the pipe,
yes to UNESCO (Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u manifestera ce matin 2008), claiming that the effluent diffuser, or pipe,
was an obstacle deliberately placed by the company
against the inscription (Comit
e Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u 2008).
In July, the country celebrated the reefs inscription on
the list, but activists were stunned to discover that this
listing stipulated no restrictions on the refinerys operations. Two months later, Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u signed a Pact
with Vale in which they pledged no more resistance to
the mining project. This article explores the influence
of the World Heritage listing on the demise of Rh
e
ebu
N
u
u and, more broadly, how grassroots efforts to protect local ecosystems from industrys impacts could be
quietly undermined by large, influential organizations
that ostensibly share the goal of environmental
protection.
Historically, protected areas simply constituted setaside spaces, off-limits to communities who had relied
on resources within them. When the human rights
abuses inherent to this approach became clear
(see West, Igoe, and Brockington 2006), the prevailing paradigm shifted in the 1980s toward comanagement, also called community-based conservation
(CBC) or community-based natural resource management (CBNRM), which attempts to encourage
local residents participation in conservation actions
(Agrawal and Gibson 1999). Innumerable projects
failed, often due to overstandardization of practices
and misunderstandings of local circumstances such as

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

legislative frameworks (Mayaka 2002), communities

aspirations (Campbell and Vainio-Mattila 2003),
or the locally specific consequences of market incentives for conservation (e.g., Crow and Carney 2013).
Nonetheless, despite challenges from resurgent protectionism (Hutton, Adams, and Murombedzi 2005),
comanagement has enjoyed exceptional longevity as
a theoretical framework for international conservation
action due to its discursive capital for marketing programs to funders (Blaikie 2006, 1952). Meanwhile,
comanagement measures putatively aimed at empowering local communities may actually be used to surreptitiously increase state control (Peluso 1992).
Examples include rigid codification of traditional
resource use rules (Boelens and Seemann 2014), exclusion of local people from resource access (Hildyard
et al. 2001), promotion of false stereotypes about
indigenous environmentalism (Shah 2010), or residents reeducation into environmentally and
politically literate subjects whose behavior conforms
to government expectations (Bryant 2002, 283).
Moreover, conservation initiatives mainly focus on
communities and ignore the vastly greater threats
posed by industry (Wells and McShane 2004). Protected areas often include residual spaces undesirable
for economic development such as mining, agriculture,
and tourism, thus failing to protect the most valuable
and vulnerable biodiversity in both terrestrial (Margules and Pressey 2000; Joppa and Pfaff 2009) and
marine ecosystems (Edgar et al. 2008; Devillers et al.
2015). Even areas protected on paper are vulnerable to
official sanctioning of large-scale development projects
(e.g., Bonta 2005). Governments desire economic
development for their citizens; more perniciously, corrupt officials might receive personal benefits from this
development. Meanwhile, the biggest funders of conservationist nongovernmental organizations (NGOs)
include government agencies like the U.S. Agency for
International Development, international financial
institutions like the Global Environment Facility, and

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

intergovernmental organizations (IGOs) like the
World Bank. Because these all rely on close ties to
national governments, NGOs abilities to decry government corruption or inaction are severely limited
(Chapin 2004). Moreover, many NGOs themselves
depend heavily on funding from multinational corporations, including those focused on resource extraction.
Thus, they accept the presence of large-scale development within biodiverse zones and collaborate with
governments, companies, or both toward mitigating
the projects impacts (Duffy 2010). Instead of supporting communities when they struggle against environmentally harmful projects, governments and NGOs
end up targeting local residents for the much smaller
scale activities in which they engage for their own subsistence and livelihoods. Ultimately, this results in
neoliberalization processes, with conservation and
capitalism, rather than clashing due to incompatible
agendas, allying mutually to reshape the world
(Brockington, Duffy, and Igoe 2008, 4).
This article builds on understandings of government, NGO, and IGO conservation initiatives exclusive focus on the activities of local communities
albeit ignoring local realitiesrather than on the
much greater threats posed by industry. I argue that
encounters between large-scale conservation and
grassroots resistance to environmentally destructive
development could be productively analyzed through
the lens of Deleuze and Guattaris (1987) concepts of
arborescent and rhizomic assemblages. In what follows,
I analyze UNESCOs role in the demise of Rh
e
ebu
N
u
u. First, I build a theoretical frame by discussing
what happens when rhizome and arborescence meet
and exploring the role of trust in the cooptation that
often results from the encounter of assemblages with
seemingly compatible aims but in reality vastly different agendas and modalities of power.

Rhizomic Resistance and Arborescent

Assemblages
Although the term is diversely defined and utilized,
assemblage can be generally understood as a dynamic
gathering (McFarlane 2009, 562) of heterogeneous
elements (Anderson and McFarlane 2011, 124) that
emerge[s] from the activity of humans and nonhumans; in the original French, agencement connects
the capacity to act with the coming together of things,
emphasizing potentiality and potency, both in flux
(Braun 2008, 67071, original emphasis). Deleuze and

169

Guattari (1987) contrasted the arborescent assemblage, long the dominant form of political, social, and
conceptual systems, with the rhizome. The arborescent
model, characterized by bureaucracy, is hierarchical
and rigid, with decisions made at the top (represented
by the tree trunk) and passed down to the roots, or
radicles, with little room for autonomy of components or questioning of preset agendas; any deviation
from the norms constitutes an aberration (Ansell
Pearson 1999, 197). This structures rigidity stifles
interaction and innovation, especially from the bottom of the hierarchy:
The subordinate elements, once so arranged, are unable
to move horizontally in such a way as to establish creative and productive interrelationships with other concepts, particulars or models. . . . The tree is fixed to the
spot and static. Any remaining movement is minimal
and internal to the system rather than exploratory or
connective. (Stagoll 2005, 14)

In their operations, arborescent assemblages often

apply diagrams. A diagram is an abstract map of relations between forces (Deleuze 1995, 36), a generalized framing of a problem and series of steps for
addressing it (De Landa 2000), that underlies and
shapes functionality and can be translated from one
context to another; for example, the diagram of
surveillance operates within prisons, schools, and military barracks alike (Zdebik 2012, 7). More relevant
here, the comanagement diagram, a predefined policy
prescription, provides a global pre-packaged solution
to local problems (Dressler et al. 2010, 12).
In contrast, rhizomic structures are loose, flexible
networks connecting heterogeneous elements in a
potentially infinite open system (Ansell Pearson
1999, 158). Like rhizomic plants, which spread and
reproduce underground and horizontally, rhizomic
assemblages are nonhierarchical and highly dynamic.
Emphasizing diversity and experimentation, the rhizomic form is a moving matrix through which elements can travel along transitory and as yet
undetermined routes, with any part able to connect
with any other, forming a milieu that is decentred,
with no distinctive end or entry point (Colman 2005,
23334). This flexibility can make rhizomic assemblages adaptable and resilient but also ephemeral.
A salient feature of the rhizomic assemblage is that it
occupies smooth space, in contrast to the arborescent
assemblages striated space. Smooth space is open-ended,
characterized by heterogeneity and infinite possible trajectories; it admits the free movements of signs,

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

170

Horowitz

particles, bodies, territories, spaces, and so on (Bonta

and Protevi 2004, 15152). This dynamic space of
never-ending process exists in continual tension with
striating forces, such as States and other bureaucracies,
which engage in stratification, . . . overcoding, centralization, hierarchization, binarization, and segmentation
(Bonta and Protevi 2004, 151). Striated space is measured, counted, occupied, and compartmentalize[d]
into carefully controlled segments (Bonta and Protevi
2004, 154); it is gridded, confining movement to
preset paths between fixed and identifiable points
(Massumi 1987, xiii). Smooth spacea field without
conduits or channelsthus implies freedom of communication among assemblages or rhizomatic multiplicities (Deleuze and Guattari 1987, 371), whereas
striated space organizes, channels, and constrains the
transmission of information.
Although these contrasting models are useful for
understanding a large range of phenomena, Deleuze
and Guattari emphasized that, empirically, they never
exist in pure form. Smooth and striated space exist
only in mixture; although efforts are constantly
made to organize, control, and thus striate smooth
space, it is continually resisting these measures and
reverting to a smooth state (Deleuze and Guattari
1987, 474). Similarly, arborescent and rhizomic forms
can hybridize, or one can become the other: [t]here
exist tree or root structures in rhizomes; conversely, a
tree branch or root division may begin to burgeon into
a rhizome (15). For instance, new social movements,
and associated grassroots activism, are often characterized as rhizomic as they form into transnational advocacy networks (Keck and Sikkink 1999), vastly
enabled and empowered by the Internet age (Castells 2012). Activist networks, however, actually possess both arborescent and rhizomic tendencies
simultaneously, in dynamic tension, and might switch
back and forth between leaning toward one or the
other (Woods et al. 2013, 449).
Meanwhile, predominantly arborescent and predominantly rhizomic assemblages may come into contact, as when activists challenge governments or
corporations. Often, the established institution will
attempt to neutralize opposition by providing carefully
controlled opportunities for challengers to express
concerns within the institutions own structure, in a
defensive mechanism known as cooptation (Selznick
1948, 34). Grassroots groups might be particularly vulnerable to such processes, which can defuse activist
struggles (Horowitz 2015). Here, though, I examine
another type of cooptation, in which arborescent

assemblages putatively share the goals of rhizomic

groupssuch as conservationist NGOs or IGOs
encountering anti-industry grassroots activitybut
instead of supporting these struggles, absorb the resisters into their arborescent forms, in pursuit of an
agenda amenable to governments and corporations.
Cooptation, and the relationships it involves, rely
heavily on the subordinate partys trust that the other(s)
will collaborate toward what it perceives as shared goals.
Mayer, Davis, and Schoorman (1995) identified three
necessary antecedents for trust: a belief in the trustees
ability (know-how in a specific area), benevolence (positive intentions toward the truster), and integrity (adherence to shared principles). To this list I add a belief in
the others power; without this capacity, there is no
need for trust. (For instance, a newborn might trust her
caretaker, but the caretaker cannot be said to trust the
helpless baby.) The party with the greatest needs or
deepest concerns and high expectations of assistance
might turn to trust as a psychological coping mechanism
(Sztompka 1999). Power differentials and differing
goalsinherent, to some degree, in all relationships
also mean that less powerful groups must align their
conceptualizations and approaches with those of more
powerful actors (Horowitz 2012) or risk having their
concerns ignored (Mouffe 1996; Hillier 2000).
Differences occur in not only degree but also type of
power. Allen (2003), emphasizing that power is not a
possessed thing but a relational effect, outlined several modalities of power. Some modalities, including
authority, seduction, and inducement, rely mainly on
convincing the other how to behave. Authority convinces through the legitimacy of the individual or institution but therefore relies on recognition of that
legitimacy, which requires continual maintenance.
Seduction convinces through charm, attraction, and
suggestion, whereas manipulation involves deception
through hidden agendas and inducement uses negotiation and persuasion. These all allow the possibility of
refusal to comply. Other modalities, in contrast, punish
noncompliance, whether by subduing any resistance
(domination) or threatening the use of force (coercion). Different groups might be positioned to exercise
different power modalities.
This article adds to our understanding of rhizomic
and arborescent assemblages and how they interact by
interrogating how an assemblages form enables certain modalities of power while constraining others and
how these differences in power modalities inform relationships between types of assemblages. I also examine
the pitfalls, for grassroots activists, of trust in

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

institutions that they perceive as powerful, particularly
when accompanied by the renunciation of a rhizomic
form in favor of cooptation into an arborescent assemblage. Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u, an indigenous activist group in
New Caledonia, held mistaken beliefs about
UNESCOs ability, benevolence, integrity, and power.
When assistance in protecting their coral reef from
mining impacts, which they had expected from a
recent World Heritage listing, failed to materialize,
rather than expressing disillusionment the group continued to trust UNESCO to protect the reef and relinquished their struggle in favor of participation in
UNESCOs comanagement diagram, through World
Heritage management committees. Other community members, meanwhile, were deeply disillusioned
and discouraged by UNESCOs inaction; however,
without support from either UNESCO or Rh
e
ebu Nuu
they felt profoundly disempowered. Ultimately, this
study argues that rhizomic structures have unique
means of influence, exercised through particular
modalities of power, that might be lost through deference to, or incorporation into, arborescent assemblages that exercise different modalities of power and
might employ locally inappropriate diagrams. I explore
the implications, for grassroots resistance and environmental conservation, of such encounters.

New Caledonia and the World Heritage

Bid
New Caledonia is a particularly appropriate site to
explore the impacts of activists relationships with
large-scale institutions on grassroots resistance to
industrial development. This Pacific archipelago is a
biodiversity hotspot with exceptionally high numbers
of endemic species that are severely threatened, especially by mining activity (Richer de Forges and Pascal
2008; Kier et al. 2009). Administered by France since
1853, New Caledonia has a population of approxi

mately 269,000 (Institut de la Statistique et des Etudes


Economiques Nouvelle-Cal
edonie 2015), composed of
several ethnic groups, primarily Melanesians known as
Kanak (40 percent) and people of European ancestry
(29 percent; Rivoilan and Broustet 2011). Mined since
1874, New Caledonia currently hosts more than thirty
active mine sites (Direction de lIndustrie des Mines et


de lEnergie
2012), some run by locally based entrepreneurs and others by multinational corporations.
Grande Terre, the main island, is estimated to possess
nearly 25 percent of the worlds nickel reserves

171

(Incos new PAL 1999) and is the second largest producer of ferronickel and fifth greatest source of nickel
ore (Lyday 2006). Besides an existing refinery, two
others are in progress. Vales Southern Refinery project, at first named Goro Nickel and now officially
called Vale Nouvelle-Cal
edonie, is located at the
southern tip of the main island (Figure 1) and uses
hydrometallurgical technology. In this procedure,
never before implemented in New Caledonia, acid
under pressure leaches nickel and cobalt from the ore,
with effluent discharged into the sea. Operations are
projected to reach full capacity in 2015, despite delays
caused by acid leaks in 2009, 2010, 2012, and 2014
(both the first and most recent of which devastated
the local freshwater ecosystem) and the effluent diffusers rupture in 2013 (Pitoiset 2014).
Rh
e
ebu Nuu, a group led entirely by Kanak, was
formed in 2002 to focus on the Southern Refinery.
Although not entirely opposed to the mining project,
these protestors had concerns about its potential environmental impacts, particularly on the marine resources on which the local population depends for
subsistence and livelihood. Rh
e
ebu Nu
u, and the villagers they represented, were especially concerned
about what was popularly known as the pipe, the diffuser that would transport waste products, including
neutralized sulfuric acid and dissolved metals, into the
Havannah Canal, where local people fish. They were
also concerned that Kanak would not benefit adequately from employment with the project, as evidenced by the company importing Filipino workers for
the construction phase. Believing that local residents
needed to keep an eye on the project, they named the
group Rh
e
ebu Nuu, eye of the country in the indigenous language Numee.
For six years, Rh
e
ebu Nuu leaders initiated a series of
actions including pamphlets denouncing the companys
activities, public meetings at local villages, open letters
sent to political leaders, legal action in the courts (in
Allens [2003] terms, all forms of inducement), and blockades of the construction site (coercion) that turned into
violent encounters with armed police. In early 2008, Vale
began laying the submarine pipeline for its effluent diffuser, sparking fresh protests and blockades, especially at
nearby Ouen Island (Figure 1).
In September 2008, however, four Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u leaders, twenty-five customary authorities, and two Goro
Nickel representatives signed a Pact for Sustainable
Development of the Far South [of New Caledonia] (hereafter the Pact). Through this agreement, the mining company committed to creating both a corporate foundation

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

172

Horowitz

Figure 1. The Vale Nouvelle-Cal
edonie project area.

to fund local development initiatives and a Consultative

Customary Environmental Committee composed of
senior male customary authorities who could recommend
further studies, to recruiting and training ten local youth
as environmental technicians, and to an extensive
reforestation program. In exchange, Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u members committed to assert their point of view not through
violent or illegal actions, but by dialogue (Vale Inco,
Conseil Coutumier de lAire Drub
ea Kapume, and Comit
e Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u 2008). They thus renounced their coercive power, the only modality that had succeeded in
attracting much attention. Although this result was overdetermined by a multitude of factors (Horowitz 2012,
2015), here I examine the role of World Heritage inscription in undercutting antimining resistance.
Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u was predominantly a rhizomic structure, with a loosely defined membership base over
which the groups leaders had little control; young
men identifying with the group would camp together
on village outskirts and engage in acts of vandalism
and harassment against fellow villagers without the
leaders sanction. Other local residents and urban activists would join in actions such as blockades or provide
support by supplying food, without identifying as group
members. The GROs focus was also flexible and
adapted quickly to changing circumstances, such as
the laying of the pipeline. In 2008, some leaders were

even elected to office at the municipal level under the

Rh
e
ebu Nuu label, but the group denied having
become a political party. The protestors operated
largely through underground meetings and activities
and sought connections via the Internet with sympathizers as far away as Europe, Canada, and South
America. The group also possessed certain arborescent
characteristics, however. Although not hierarchical
per se, it was largely led by a small core with a charismatic leader, Gabriel (pseudonym), widely recognized
as the driving force behind its operations, who did not
always consult other members before acting on their
behalf. When the pact was signed, many Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u
members and sympathizers were deeply shocked,
claiming that this had occurred behind their backs,
and blamed Gabriel for having betrayed them.
UNESCO, in contrast, is a strongly arborescent
assemblage, with a clear organizational structure,
bureaucracy, and hierarchy. UNESCO was founded in
the aftermath of World War II, with the intention of
working to prevent future warfare by countering narrow nationalism and the ignorance of other peoples
and cultures in which this is based. In 1972, UNESCO
adopted the Convention Concerning the Protection
of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage. This
treaty, ratified by (as of 2015) 191 states, outlines the
process for requesting sites inscription on the World

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

Heritage List and the preservation required for remaining on the list. This list, like UNESCO, benefits from
global recognition and the authority this implies and
can induce states to protect their listed sites through
the promise of international status and additional
tourism. By 2015, the list contained 779 cultural sites,
197 natural, and thirty-one mixed properties. The
World Heritage Committee is composed of representatives of twenty-one states, elected by a General
Assembly. In deciding whether to inscribe sites on the
World Heritage List or move them to the List of
World Heritage in Danger (Danger List) due to risks
outlined in Article 11(4) of the Convention, Committee members solicit, but are not obliged to take, advice
from NGOs or IGOs, which can thus attempt to
induce states and UNESCO to heed their warnings
but have no means of coercing them to do so. For natural sites, the advisory NGO is the International
Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN).
Like other conservation initiatives, the World Heritage program has faced accusations of excluding local
communities. According to the UN Special Rapporteur
on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, indigenous people
have expressed concerns over their lack of participation in the nomination, declaration and management
of World Heritage sites, as well as concerns about the
negative impact these sites have had on their substantive rights, especially their rights to lands and resources
(Anaya 2012, 9). Worrying that such complaints were
clearly damaging the reputation of UNESCO as an
institution committed to furthering respect for human
rights, cultural pluralism and intercultural understanding (International Work Group for Indigenous
Affairs 2013, 9), UNESCO and its advisors adopted the
language of rights-based approaches (IUCN, International Council on Monuments and Sites, and International Centre for Study of the Preservation and
Restoration of Cultural Property 2014). They insisted
that [m]anagement and protection of such sites must
take place according to the rules, laws and customs of
the indigenous peoples concerned (Disko 2012, 17).
This decentralization appeared to embrace a more rhizomic approach to conservation. Like other conservationists, however, rather than tailoring each project to
local realities, UNESCO sought a prescriptive comanagement diagram, producing a white paper that
aimed to serve as a firm step in providing a full
prescription for how to address the many challenges of
ensuring community engagement in World Heritage
(UNESCO 2014, 10). This article examines the ramifications of applying this diagram in New Caledonia.

173

New Caledonia possesses the worlds second longest

barrier reef, 1,500 km long. Fishing pressure is low and
not considered a major threat; the primary source of
pollution is mining activity (David et al. 2010). The
project of obtaining World Heritage inscription for
the reef as a natural site was first conceived by local
environmentalists, mainly urban-based and of European heritage, as a coercive means of protecting New
Caledonias reefs by stopping the mining projects that
were threatening them. They submitted a dossier to
UNESCO in 2001, requesting inscription of the entire
reef system; however, as this dossier was missing
important sections and did not have the required support from the State PartyFranceit was rejected.
At that time, the idea of requesting World Heritage
listing for the reefs was opposed by many local politicians, who feared that it would inhibit economic
development. They manipulated some Kanak villagers
into turning against it as well, convincing them that
they would lose their fishing rights. In 2004, however,
a new political party came to power that, although still
anti-independence, was somewhat less politically and
socially conservative. Viewing World Heritage inscription as not a brake but an asset for development


(Elodie,
personal communication, 12 June 2012), in
the hope it would attract additional tourism, they took
up the dossier, commissioned extensive studies, and
resubmitted it to UNESCO in 2007. The following
year, it was accepted and New Caledonias reefs were
added to the World Heritage List.
A fundamental change had occurred, however:
New Caledonian politicians had chosen to submit a
serial nomination of six marine clusters
(Figure 2), claiming that the remaining areas were
already degraded or part of mining concessions and
therefore not eligible for inscription. Interestingly,
though, Vale Nouvelle-Cal
edonie ended up right
on the edge of the Great Southern Lagoon marine
cluster, with its refinerys effluent diffuser spilling
into the buffer zone (Figure 3).
I have conducted fieldwork in New Caledonia
since 1998 and began studying the Southern Refinery project in 2006. This article is based on interviews conducted, usually in French, between
August 2010 and August 2012 (mainly JuneAugust
2012), both in New Caledonia and by telephone,
with fifty-one stakeholders including thirty-eight
local residents as well as government officials, grassroots activists, and employees or former employees
of UNESCO and IUCN. I also reviewed documents
from Rh
e
ebu Nuu, New Caledonias Southern

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

174

Horowitz

Figure 2. Marine clusters of New Caledonias World Heritage Property. Light blue areas represent the property, medium blue the marine
buffer zones, and dark orange the terrestrial buffer zones. Source: Reproduced with permission from New Caledonias Southern Province.
(Color figure available online.)

Province,1 UNESCO, and IUCN. To reduce the

risk of identification, I use pseudonyms for all interviewees and also refer to both UNESCO and
IUCN representatives as World Heritage experts.
All translations are mine.

Comanagement: A Locally Inappropriate

Diagram
Part of UNESCOs World Heritage mission is to
[e]ncourage countries to . . . ensure the protection of
their natural and cultural heritage (UNESCO n.d.).
To encourage the protection of New Caledonias
reefs, it was necessary to determine the threats to
them; certain threats would be easier to address than
others. Although grassroots activists had expected
UNESCO to address the primary threat to the reefs,
mining activity, UNESCO officials could exert no
real power, and felt no responsibility, to pressure the
government to take such action. Therefore, rather
than addressing threats from mining projects,
UNESCOs representatives and advisors applied a
comanagement diagram, encouraging the government to focus on local communities, a much easier
target of interventions.

Exclusive Focus on Local Fishing Practices

Responding to accusations of their exclusion of
local people, World Heritage experts insisted on the
creation of management committees in which community representatives would participate in decision
making to protect the marine environment. In
response, Southern Province government officials
made extensive efforts to inform communities about
the inscription, helped form the management committees, and organized numerous committee meetings
in communities scattered across the province. Thus,
UNESCO demanded employment of an inclusive
comanagement diagram that had emerged in conservation praxis. They failed to recognize, however, that
this diagram was inappropriate to local circumstances.
First, it was limited by the dominant diagram of the
French legal code. Second, it applied only to the
management of fisheries, whereas fishing pressure
posed little threat. Indeed, it completely ignored, and
was powerless to address, local peoples main concern,
the threat posed by the refinerys effluent. Thus,
UNESCOs attempts to make resource management
more decentralized, hence rhizomic, actually disempowered local communities by ignoring local
specificities.

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

175

Figure 3. The Great Southern Lagoon marine cluster. Light blue areas represent the property, medium blue the marine buffer zone, and
orange the terrestrial buffer zones. The gray line near the top of the buffer zone represents Vales submarine pipeline (thinner line) and effluent diffuser (thicker line). Source: Map reproduced with permission from New Caledonias Southern Province. Pipeline and effluent diffuser
image added from Goro Nickel (2007). (Color figure available online.)

As a government official explained, Under French

law, its impossible that it be them, in the middle of the
village, who decide what can be done at sea (Jean,
personal communication, 25 November 2011). The
problem reflected contradictory resource management
diagrams, formal versus informal (Teulieres 1991; see
Horowitz 2004, 2008). Under customary Kanak marine
resource management, particular fishing and shellfishgathering areas were reserved for particular clans, and
certain species, such as turtles, were reserved for special
occasions such as weddings and funerals. Kanak fishers,
a loose rhizomic assemblage, implemented these rules
by informally monitoring each others behavior; when
ethnically distinct outsiders tried to fish in their territories, they might be chased off at gunpoint. Within the
striated space of the French legal code, however, rules
always had to be equally applicable to all; resources
could not be reserved for specific groups or events.
Implementing this legislation, though, was problematic,
as it met with hostility: They consider that the

Environmental Code is the white peoples rule; its not

applicable for them (Jean, personal communication,
25 November 2011). Seeking to avoid confrontation,
regulators often turned a blind eye to minor infractions.
The UNESCO inscription raised pressure to increase
enforcement, however, and punishments were becoming more stringent. Ultimately, the dominant legal system, true to its hierarchical arborescent nature, did not
allow for compromise with the Kanak resource management diagram: The management committee proposes,
the Southern Province disposes (Jean, personal communication, 25 November 2011).
Nonetheless, both government officials and World
Heritage experts admitted that in very large measure,
the lagoon was not overfished; as a World Heritage
expert explained, research had shown that due to low
fishing effort, largely resulting from low population
density, it was only in very localized areas that theres
any threat to the fish. Instead, where they see risks
to the marine ecosystem is outside the World Heritage

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

176

Horowitz

property, in areas where there is very much impact

from the mining. Although the Vale project posed a
potential risk, at the current time there was no evidence in the property itself of any degradation, and
the World Heritage experts had been satisfied with
the companys mitigation strategy (Claude, personal
communication, 25 June 2012).
In other words, neither fishing nor the refinery
posed any clear and immediate danger to the inscribed
site, in the experts or governments view; however,
stubbornly following their comanagement diagram, all
World Heritagerelated efforts were focused on local
fishers, yet blind to their true concern: reining in the
mining project. This irony did not escape local residents; one expressed bafflement that the same
institutions could prohibit flushing out octopus with
acid squirtsat a small scale, eh?yet, right nearby,
permit a refinery that used vast quantities of acid under
high pressure and thus presented the risk (subsequently
realized) of high-volume acid spills (Pierre, personal
communication, 23 July 2012).
Hypothetical Stuff: Who Should Address Mining
Impacts?
At issue here was the question of who had the
power and the responsibility to protect the reefs from
the mining project. Like a hot potato, each party tried
to pass this responsibility to the next. Largely, this was
because UNESCO lacked the power that activists had
believed it possessedas an antecedent for their trust
in the agencyto pressure the local government to
control or halt environmentally damaging mining
activity. Although, as a UN agency, UNESCO seemed
positioned to exercise political and financial influence
over the states, the very fact that it was composed of
government representatives, operating within a strictly
hierarchical arborescent structure and a striated, hence
restricted, scope of action, sharply limited its ability to
exert this pressure. Local GROs, in contrast, as rhizomic assemblages, were unconstrained by ties to any
government or corporation; however, this also equated
to a lack of political or financial power, which they
attempted to counter by seeking assistance from more
influential NGOs and IGOs. Yet, ultimately, the
deferral of responsibility came full circle, back to the
activists who had initiated it.
As described earlier, the idea for the World Heritage inscription had originated in the 1990s with activists, mostly urban-based and of European heritage,
who were concerned about the proposed refinery.

Unable to gain traction with the local government,

they sought alliances among Australian Greens who
had successfully fought logging and hydroelectric
development in Tasmania by securing World Heritage
status for a large swath of that island. In 1999, activists
convinced the president of the newly formed Customary Senate to send a letter to French president Jacques
Chirac and UNESCO offering New Caledonias reefs
to the world. When the French government finally
submitted the request for inscription in 2007, these
activists were disheartened by the fact that mining concessions had simply been cut from the proposed property and that instead of becoming a consciousnessraising exercise, the inscription had been manipulated
to promote tourism and politicians egos (Christophe,
personal communication, 25 June 2012). Others, however, still held out hope. In early 2008, a petition circulated requesting that Vale suspend placement of its
effluent diffuser until UNESCOs decision. While the
UN agency deliberated, banners flew over the capital,
Noum
ea, bearing the question, Goro pipe or
UNESCO? Soon, the answer clearly became both,
as the reefs were inscribed on the list with no restrictions on the refinerys operations.
UNESCO, in turn, deferred responsibility for evaluating and monitoring the reefs to its advisor, IUCN,
and both organizations made it clear that responsibility
for protecting the reefs from mining lay squarely with
the French government. In any case, UNESCO was
concerned only with World Heritage property itself,
defined by the boundaries proposed by the host government. Thus, as an expert explained with some frustration, a threat to the environment was not the same as
a threat to the World Heritage property; these are two
different issues, and people have been mixing them up a
lot (Claude, personal communication, 25 June 2012).
The mine site was not within the property, although its
effluent diffuser emptied into the buffer zone. The government had extended the buffer zone to encompass the
diffuser at the request of a World Heritage expert who
noted the areas features of interest and felt that it was
important not to duck the issue of mining just because
it was too difficult (Camille, personal communication,
29 June 2012). Government officials agreed that,
although they could not include project infrastructure
within the proposed property itself, due to the pledge of
the International Council on Mining and Metals
(2003) not to operate in World Heritage sites, they
could include the diffuser within the buffer zone to put
pressure on the company (Cochin 2008). UNESCO
did not provide clear guidelines, however, as to how a

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

buffer zone should be managed. When I asked what
activities would be acceptable within the buffer zone,
one expert replied, I dont deal in hypothetical stuff
(Camille, personal communication, 29 June 2012).
Another agreed that there is no very specific regulation
relating to any World Heritage buffer zone (Dominique, personal communication, 16 August 2012),
which was left to the host government. UNESCOs
Operational Guidelines specify that a buffer zone is an
area surrounding the nominated property which has
complementary legal and/or customary restrictions
placed on its use and development to give an added
layer of protection to the property and the government
should provide a clear explanation of how the buffer
zone protects the property (UNESCO 2011).
UNESCO, though, inscribed the reefs despite the fact
that Frances dossier made no mention of how the buffer
zone would be protected. This doublespeak did not pass
unnoticed by local residents, who remarked that as the
companys effluent diffuser was in the buffer zone, that
means they can release whatever they want (Oscar,
personal communication, 13 July 2012), or observed
that they forgot about the currents that would transport effluent from the buffer zone into the property
(Odilon, personal communication, 26 July 2012).
As for any threats to the property itself, UNESCOs
only recourse was to signal a possible removal from
World Heritage status by placing it on the Danger
List, which could result in humiliation for the host
government (Maxime, personal communication, 18
June 2012)a form of negative inducement through
social pressure but not true coercion. As an intergovernmental organization, though, UNESCO itself was
highly vulnerable to political pressure. World Heritage
Committee members had shifted from being archaeological and environmental experts to almost exclusively state-appointed ambassadors and politicians, in
a context of nations intense backstage lobbying
(Meskell 2014, 221). IUCN officials expressed frustration that recently, probably less than half of their
recommendations had been included on the Danger
List (Dominique, personal communication, 16 August
2012; see also Meskell 2014); threats from major
infrastructure projects, the extractive industry and
property speculation were repeatedly ignored (IUCN
2012). Meanwhile, IUCN itself was not immune to
outside influence and had been criticized for partnering with corporations, including a five-year collaboration with Shell launched in 2007.
Short of the threat of removal, rarely applied,
inscription included a voluntary international

177

environmental agreement with no added

enforcement, and UNESCO has no role in management (Claude, personal communication, 25 June
2012). Thus, UNESCO relied exclusively on the
(toothless) authority implicit in its international legitimacy. This authority was conditional on recognition
from nation-stateswhich, lacking a rhizomes resilience, UNESCO could not afford to alienate.
Although the organization had been lobbied by Kanak
and environmental grassroots groups who hoped to
secure its assistance in stopping the Vale project, and
there was a lot of support for local indigenous people,
moral support, UNESCO was unable to become
involved in the political stuff (Maxime, personal
communication, 18 June 2012). Hence, World Heritage experts pointed to their lack of coercive power to
address threats from mining, through either direct
means or indirect pressure, and identified governments
as possessing that responsibility.
Both experts and government representatives also,
ironically, pushed responsibility for taking action
against mining back onto the very activists who had
first sought inscription as a means of limiting its damages. A World Heritage expert claimed that the
inscription was something the local community could
turn to if they felt the reefs were being degraded, by
contacting the government or an NGO. There was,
however, no direct conduit to the World Heritage
Committee: It would be a fair old stink before it got
to UNESCObut I suspect they get the press cuttings
anyway (Camille, personal communication, 29 June
2012). Government representatives, meanwhile,
expressed certainty that what had helped convince
UNESCO to inscribe the property was the fact that if
theres an impact, theres inevitably a reaction from
the communities and blockade of the refinery; over


here, its pretty quick (Elodie,
personal communication, 12 June 2012). Thus, each party relied on protestors, the only ones who could exercise coercive power
through forceful resistance, to be the first to respond to
any mining-related impacts. But what effect had the
inscription had on local communities and GROs
resistance to the mining project?

Undermining Resistance
The reefs inscription had not strengthened local
capacity to raise concerns about harms from mining;
in fact, just the opposite. Neither the official request,
the management committees structure, nor the

178

Horowitz

management plans created in collaboration with the

committees allowed for any coercion of Vale (or any
mining company) to alter its operations. Meanwhile,
the inscription reduced many community members
anxieties about the refinerys environmental impacts
and assured them of what they perceived as the vigilance of a powerful ally, reducing the perceived need
for their own direct action against the company.

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Reassure and Convince: Illusions of

Empowerment
As discussed earlier, the selected sites carefully made
room for planned mining activities; an activist claimed
that President Chirac had only announced the World
Heritage bid once all companies had been assured that
their mining activities would not be harmed (Christophe, personal communication, 25 June 2012). Indeed,
UNESCO had not made any demands on mining companies; a government official confirmed that despite
the inscription, Vale didnt make any changes to the
[mining or refining] process, thats certain. Justifying
the mining projects presence on the edge of the World
Heritage property wasnt easy, but more so when it
came to the communities than when it came to
UNESCO, as local residents, not the experts, had
been the main people to reassure and convince


(Elodie,
personal communication, 12 June 2012).
Next, the management committees had been organized
by the Southern Provinces Environment Department,
which has no jurisdiction over mining. A Vale representative attended each committee meeting to
respond to concerns by providing information (Jean,
personal communication, 25 November 2011) but
without any means for the community to pressure the
company to change its practices. Indeed, many management committee members were also members of the
Consultative Customary Environmental Committee,
funded entirely by Vale, or lil, an observatory
charged with monitoring the project, which received
half its funding from Vale. A government official saw
this overlap as positivecommunication is much
quicker (Jean, personal communication, 25 November
2011)despite a clear conflict of interest. Meanwhile,
Vale sponsored local marine-related development projects through its Corporate Foundation, including on
Ouen Island, where it financed a whale lookout and
two walking tracks, in time for the seasonal arrival of
whale-watching tourists, some of whom might have
been attracted by the World Heritage listing. A management committee member expressed appreciation for

this assistance yet was concerned it might constitute

cooptationan inducement to acquiesce, or a type of
seduction: I wonder if we can go against Vale even if
its Vale that pays for everything (Oscar, personal
communication, 13 July 2012).
Despite offering no substantive opportunities for
pressuring Vale to improve its environmental practices, and indeed providing opportunities for Vale to
produce counterincentives to any pressure, the inscription gave many government officials, community
members, and activists a sense of reassurance that
Vale had better be even more careful (Jean, personal
communication, 18 July 2012) due to UNESCOs
internationally recognized authority. Government representatives had used this logic in their attempts to
convince local residents to support the inscription
request despite the presence of Vales effluent diffuser:
[W]e were confronted of course with Goro Nickels infamous pipe, and there wasnt a single meeting at which we
werent reminded of that point. That pipe was a thorn in
our side, very difficult to remove. I told people that they
mustnt confuse things, and to think of the World Heritage
inscription as a tool, an additional arm in the pressure
placed on the company to respect certain conditions, now
being watched not only at a local, regional, or even
national level but, indeed, international. (del Rio 2009, 37)

Although many villagers expressed uncertainty as to

what the inscription truly signified, they hoped that the
additional surveillance would make Vale pay attention.
One local resident thought World Heritage status would
prevent the refinery from going overboard by imposing
an obligation not to send all their filth into the lagoon
(Odilon, personal communication, 26 July 2012).
The fact that UNESCO was an international organization indicated that it was more powerful and could
pressure the company at the global level (Yves, personal communication, 27 July 2012). This was particularly important as many villagers sharply felt their own
powerlessness:
Were at the bottom of the ladder. . . . Theyre better
placed to do something; as for us, we cant. (Odilon, personal communication, 26 July 2012)

Having the inscription meant we know were not going

to fight all alone against damage to the marine ecosystem (Fr
ed
eric, personal communication, 10 July 2012).
Indeed, local residents felt very proud to have
received the attentions of an authoritative international organization (Alain, personal communication, 8
August 2010). This led to a sense of empowerment;

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

some management committee members declared that
whenever they noticed any pollution, they would warn
the authorities (Edmond, personal communication, 23
July 2012), who then told the mining company to be
careful with the lagoonaction the government had
only taken since the inscription (Eugene, personal
communication, 13 July 2012). Other community
members expressed increased trust in the provincial
government whose employees they now regularly saw
monitoring fishing activities or taking water samples.
Several felt that they could draw media attention to any
pollution, take the company to court, or call on the
World Heritage Committee. In other words, management committee members recognized that they had
renounced the nonhierarchical, rhizomic structure of
Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u in favor of incorporation, albeit at the
very bottom rung, into UNESCOs arborescent assemblage. Following Mayer, Davis, and Schoormans
(1995) antecedents for trust, outlined earlier, they did
so in the expectation of UNESCOs benevolence and
integrity, as well as of the agencys power.
Some management committee members had an
exaggerated sense of the power the World Heritage
listing granted them, however. Several mistakenly
believed that UNESCO had promised, or authorized
the committee, to shut down the refinery if they
noticed any pollution (Laurent, personal communication, 19 July 2012). As one member explained, If anything gets out of control, were counting on UNESCO
to give us a hand to remove that pipe, or I dont know
what (Denis, personal communication, 9 July 2012).
Another was certain that UNESCO would have to
react if pollution occurred, by using its weight, along
with the people here: Theres no point placing the
whole site as heritage, from up there, and then not
reacting; thats meaningless (Odilon, personal communication, 26 July 2012). They were thus unaware of
the limits of UNESCOs powers and of the limits of its
willingness to exercise these limited powers, as outlined previously. Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u members had their own
power modality, authority as indigenous people (see
Horowitz 2015), but transferred this authority away
from supporting their resistance efforts, toward bolstering UNESCOs management committees.
If It Hadnt Been for UNESCO: From
Radical to Radicle
Government officials and Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u leaders had
different interpretations of the linkage between World

179

Heritage inscription and resistance to Vales operations. A government official noted that efforts to
secure community acceptance of the World Heritage
bid had been difficult at first because of concerns over
the effluent diffuser:
[Community members] said, But how can you talk about
World Heritage and preservation? You, the local government, youre imposing a pipe on us thats going to dump
out shit. (Jean, personal communication, 25 November
2011)

In his interpretation, the provincial government had

needed to wait until community members had
accepted the diffuser before they could rediscuss
the creation of World Heritage management committees. Rh
e
ebu Nuu leaders had a precisely opposite
interpretation of this sequence of events. Before the
inscription, community members, with Rh
e
eb
u N
u
us
support, had insisted that the effluent diffuser would
not be accepted without the prior consent of the custodian clans of the marine spaces, and set the World
Heritage listing as a condition for the possibility of
resubmitting the question to the customary clans
(Comit
e Rh
e
ebu Nuu 2008, 5). A Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u leader
later explained,
If the heritage hadnt been inscribed, we would have
said, Theres a danger, or, The danger is insurmountable. From the moment it was inscribed, we said,
Theres the international community, the company had
better not tell them a pack of lies, and anyway we have
the possibility of calling upon the international eye if
there are any impacts. (Gabriel, personal communication, 16 September 2010)

Thus, instead of acceptance of the diffuser leading to

acceptance of the World Heritage inscription, Rh
e
eb
u
Nuu leaders claimed that, conversely, World Heritage
status had convinced them to accept the diffuser; if
UNESCO was willing to tolerate it, they reasoned, it
could not pose a serious threat. One leader explained,
If it hadnt been for UNESCO, we would have
opposed [the mining project]; we would have continued the struggle (Maurice, personal communication,
31 July 2012). They thus failed to recognize that
UNESCO exercised authority but had no coercive
power over Vale.
Vale touted the inscription as an authoritative
endorsement of their operations as ecologically
benign:
UNESCO chose, with full knowledge of the facts, to
inscribe New Caledonias lagoons on the World Heritage

180

Horowitz

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

list. . . . In all the conversations with the chieftainships,

even Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u, we felt that our interlocutors were
waiting for UNESCOs position. . . . Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u members were very happy about this confirmation [from
UNESCO]. The dialogue is very constructive now. They
are even more reassured about the environmental reality
of the project. (Goro Nickel: Tous daccord pour le
tuyau 2008)

Neither party observed that the two experts who

had inspected the proposed site had training in,
respectively, marine ecology and coastal environmental management; neither was a specialist in mining
impacts, and both had simply relied on information
the company provided them. These experts had thus
used their authority to grant Vale and its diffuser an
environmental legitimacy based in mistaken perceptions of and trust in their own expertise. In part, this
was inadvertent; the protestors had simply assumed
the experts were capable of evaluating risks from the
mining activity. Neither expert had fully disclosed to
local residents the limits of his or her qualifications,
however, resulting in mistaken beliefs in the experts
ability, an antecedent for trust. Even if inadvertently,
this manifested a modality of power: manipulation.
Moreover, as attention focused on the refinerys liquid effluent, the air pollution it would generateand
the impacts this would have on the reef and on local
residentswere largely ignored. The refinery relied on
a coal-fired power plant expected to release 550,000
metric tons of CO2 annually (Gouvernement de la
Nouvelle-Cal
edonie 2009). CO2 is associated with
both global warming and ocean acidification, which
constitute the primary threats to corals, particularly in
the Western Pacific where New Caledonia is located
(Couce, Ridgwell, and Hendy 2013). Additionally,
burning coal releases mercury, a known toxin for
marine organisms including corals (Bastidas and Garcia 2004) and a toxin and teratogen for humans. A
recent study showed that mercury levels in New Caledonian seafood were generally low, but high concentrations were found near the long-standing coal-fired
nickel refinery in Noum
ea; those levels were of particular concern for human consumption, especially
given local populations extreme dependence on
marine resources for subsistence (Chouvelon et al.
2009, 338).
Meanwhile, not everyone was reassured. Many community members, particularly women and youth,
expressed shock and anger at the pacts signature. Suspecting that Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u leaders mouths had been
closed with money, one management committee

member noted that the leaders were with us now, on

the heritage management; theyre not interested in
the nickel [refinery] anymore. He was certain that if
they had continued, the refinery would not have been
put in place (Odilon, personal communication, 16
July 2012). In other words, they were deeply disappointed by the fact that Rh
e
ebu Nuu had chosen to
abandon its rhizomic, radical resistance and allowed
itself to be coopted, subsumed as a radicle of
UNESCOs arborescent structure, through membership of management committeesa tiny element at
the very bottom of the giant hierarchical assemblage,
with no power to address mining activities.
As a corollary of this structural shift, activists lost
the relatively smooth space of Rh
e
ebu Nuus rhizomic
assemblage and the open communication this had represented. Its leaders were well-known community
members who, not being members of first-occupant
clans, lacked high social status. They were so
approachable that villagers could evenas some did
after the pacts signatureshout at them while brandishing machetes. UNESCO, in contrast, represented
a highly striated space, with strict protocols and channels for transmitting information. As a hierarchical
arborescent assemblage, its leaders were inaccessible to
concerned villagers. Although some were confident
that any message they hoped to convey would eventually pass up the chain all the way to UNESCO
(Fr
ed
eric, personal communication, 10 July 2012),
others were confused about which, if any, path was
available to them in navigating the agencys striations:
I know they [UNESCO] have power, but I dont know
what I have to do to call upon them to tell them that
this refinery must be closed down. (Ruth, personal communication, 9 July 2012)

Thus, many local residents, including management

committee members, remained unconvinced that the
inscription had reduced the associated impacts and
risks. One committee member expressed frustration
that, with the effluent diffuser, and erosion from the
mine site, the lagoon was classified [inscribed] but its
as if they didnt classify anything as it doesnt protect
anything. Predicting that the coral will die with the
mud from the mine and worrying that were sending
our children to suicide from contaminated seafood,
he lamented that if theres a harmful effect on the
reef, well raise the alarm, but too latewe always
react after the accident (Aim
e, personal communication, 9 July 2012). Another explained that the inscription doesnt reassure me, despite being on the

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

management committee: Its as though Im nothing
compared to that [refinery]; . . . Im like a butterfly or a
caterpillaryou fall in the bowl of acid and thats it
(Ruth, personal communication, 9 July 2012). Some
protestors explicitly blamed UNESCO for its approval
of the Vale project. A Kanak activist recalled:

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

We thought UNESCO would react and block everything, the refinery, that they would see that it was bad,
that they would have used a sort of blackmail, that they
would have said, Either the classification, or the refinery, but not both, we cant classify with the refinery. But
it was just the opposite, and that wounded us deeply.
(Ernest, personal communication, 25 July 2012)

Clearly, these local residents felt discouraged by what

they perceived as abandonment by the assemblages,
both rhizomic and arborescent, whose support they had
sought: Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u, UNESCO, and also their elected
representatives. Noting the paradoxical and incomprehensible fact that local politicians had supported
both refinery and inscription, another committee member wondered, Does that ease their conscience, once
the heritage is classified? (C
eline, personal communication, 3 August 2012). After the pacts signature, as
Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u ceased its opposition, many villagers sank
into a sort of frustrated fatalism, recognizing that their
only powercoercion based in direct actionrelied on
large numbers of protestors acting together:
We accepted having the refinery here; now we have to
live with it. We can fight, if there are a lot of usbut if
were only three or four doing the work, we wont succeed. (Aim
e, personal communication, 9 July 2012)

Conclusion: The Trouble with Trees

This article has examined what can happen when rhizomic GROs turn to arborescent institutions to assist
them in their struggles against industry. Rh
e
ebu Nuu,
targeting Vales refinery, expected that the addition of
New Caledonias coral reefs to UNESCOs World Heritage List would prevent the company from releasing its
effluent into the marine environment. They believed
that UNESCO possessed the technical expertise to evaluate impacts from Vales diffuser and the power and
motivation to take necessary actions to conserve the
reef. These beliefs, antecedents for trust, led the GRO
leaders to count on UNESCOs assistance. UNESCO
inscribed the property without stipulating any restrictions on mining activity, however, instead applying
a globally promoted, but locally inappropriate,

181

comanagement diagram that targeted local fishing activities despite an absence of overfishing. Meanwhile, the
World Heritage experts who briefly visited New Caledonia lacked the expertise to evaluate Vales operations,
and the agency itself lacked the mandate, and the political will, to pressure the government to impose any additional demands on the company. Nonetheless, rather
than continue their flexible and dynamic rhizomic struggle, Rh
e
ebu Nuu chose to trust UNESCO to protect the
reef and allowed itself to be coopted into the agencys
rigid, hierarchical arborescent assemblage, renouncing
the smooth space of direct action in favor of participation in the striated space of management committees
that UNESCO had demanded.
Partly, then, Rh
e
ebu Nuus demise resulted from a
misunderstanding of the degree and modalities of
power (authority, coercion, inducement, etc.) of each
organizational model, arborescent and rhizomic. Rhizomic structures are dynamic, mobile, flexible, andcruciallyfree of the constraints inherent to rigid
hierarchy or to dependencies on powerful institutions
such as governments. This allows them coercive power
through threats of violent resistance. They lack extensive resources, recognition, or authority, though, and
thus often exert limited influence. Arborescent structures, in contrast, often possess vast material and financial resources, their authority is widely recognized, and
they have the potential to wield great influence. They
are severely constrained, however, by both their inflexible structure and their dependencies on other arborescences. Like most arborescent institutions, including
all IGOs and many NGOs, the World Heritage Committee worked closely withindeed, was composed of
representatives fromnational governments. This provided it with great potential, theoretically, for political
and financial influence over these governments, yet in
reality severely limited the agencys scope for exerting
that influence, as each state was guided by strategic
rather than environmental agendas. Thus, UNESCO
officials, while expressing personal sympathies for
Rh
e
ebu Nuus concerns, felt unable to engage with the
group explicitly or to address their anti-industry
demands, viewed as too political. UNESCO was thus
a recognized authority and could offer inducements but
had no means of coercion, even indirectly through
relationships with activist groups.
In renouncing its rhizomic form in favor of incorporation into an arborescent hierarchy at its very bottom
rung, Rh
e
ebu Nuu neglected to recognize, and thus
lost, the key advantage of the rhizome: the freedom to
respond to mining-related risks with coercive protests.

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

182

Horowitz

Meanwhile, it gained none of the resources or authority of the arborescence, in fact relegating its own
authority, resting on the legitimacy imputed to indigenous peoples concerns, to support UNESCO. In joining World Heritage management committees, Rh
e
ebu
N
u
u leaders hoped to forge powerful alliances but in
fact gained no leverage over mining activities, as the
government department organizing the committees
had no jurisdiction over mining. Management committee members, meanwhile, had no direct access to
UNESCO and thus could not appeal to it for support
in the face of threats from the mining activity. Other
community members, still anxious about the refinerys
impacts, felt deeply disempowered without the support
of either UNESCO or Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u. Meanwhile, the
restructuring of radical activism into a radicle component of an arborescent assemblage allowed for mutual
deferral of responsibility. Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u activists, now
management committee members, assumed that
UNESCOwith far greater technical expertise and
international clout than theywould protect the reef
it had inscribed as a World Heritage site. Conversely,
both UNESCO and government representatives
expected activists to be the first to take direct action
against any mining-related incidents, without providing any conduit for community members to pass their
concerns up through UNESCOs hierarchy.
Thus, this study demonstrates that rhizomic assemblages can exercise power modalities (e.g., coercion and
forms of authority) that arborescent assemblages might
lack. It further suggests that in interacting with rhizomic assemblages, arborescent institutions seek to apply
diagrams, whether or not appropriate to local circumstances. This might involve absorbing activists into
their own hierarchical structure, relegating them to a
radicle position without decision-making capacity
and thus stripping them of their coercive power while
coopting their indigenous authority. Concomitantly,
this article explores the pitfalls of relying too heavily
on an institution perceived as powerful and trustworthy
but that might possess its own agenda and could be constrained by its very form. Here, the trouble lay with misplaced trust based in mistaken assumptions about
UNESCOs ability, benevolence, integrity, and power.
Thus, this study points to the need for grassroots activists to be aware of the political constraints and agendas of arborescent organizations from whom they might
seek assistance or support. It also suggests that institutions such as UNESCO should respond to local realities
even if this means jettisoning generic diagrams.

Ultimately, this article points to the political and

social dimensions of ways that conservation can end
up supporting environmentally damaging industrial
development by not only ignoring but, even inadvertently, undermining communities struggles to protect
the very ecosystems the conservation initiatives target.
In other words, conservation does not only result in
the extension of state domination, as the literature has
shown; it can lead to the surreptitious extension of
corporate reach at the expense of grassroots action, as
this study demonstrates.
The World Heritage program, like any large-scale
initiative of an influential arborescent assemblage,
does have the potential to achieve its stated goals
here, conservation of important and threatened areas
of land or sea. Indeed, the Tasmanian Wilderness
World Heritage Area, the original inspiration for the
New Caledonian bid, has preserved Tasmanias temperate rainforests from logging and hydroelectric
development for more than thirty years (see Hay and
Eckersley 1993; Crowley 1999; Russell and Jambrecina
2002). Ultimately, though, the success of such initiatives relies on political will at the very top of the arborescence: the federal and local governments. New
Caledonias politicians clearly had a developmentalist
agenda and viewed World Heritage inscription as a
means of attracting tourism rather than inhibiting
mining. Future research could examine cases in which
grassroots groups focus advocacy efforts not on seeking
support from IGOs or NGOs, constrained by their
political and financial dependencies, but rather on targeting the sources of these dependenciesoften governmentswhile maintaining the independence from
political constraints that their rhizomic forms allow. It
would also be useful to examine arborescentrhizomic
relationships from different perspectives, such as
through institutional ethnographies of the arborescent
organizations, which might allow a deeper and more
sympathetic understanding of the constraints their
forms impose.

Acknowledgments
I am deeply grateful to the residents of Ouara, Unia,
and Vao for their hospitality and to all interviewees
for their time. I am indebted also to Rob Fletcher and
three anonymous reviewers for their insightful comments that greatly improved this article. Any errors
are solely my responsibility.

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

Funding
Research for this article was funded by the Centre
National de Recherche Technologique Nickel et son
Environnement, Hawaii Pacific University, and the
National Endowment for the Humanities. The
research was conducted under Rutgers University IRB
#10616M and Hawaii Pacific University IRB
#560411062.

Note

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

1. Although the propertys marine clusters are located

in all three provinces, this article focuses exclusively
on the Southern Province.

References
Agrawal, A., and C. C. Gibson. 1999. Enchantment and
disenchantment: The role of community in natural
resource conservation. World Development 27 (4): 629
49.
Allen, J. 2003. Lost geographies of power. Malden, MA:
Blackwell.
Anaya, J. 2012. Report of the Special Rapporteur on the
rights of indigenous peoples. United Nations General
Assembly, A/67/301, New York.
Anderson, B., and C. McFarlane. 2011. Assemblage and
geography. Area 43 (2): 12427.
Ansell Pearson, K. 1999. Germinal life: The difference and
repetition of Deleuze. London and New York: Routledge.
Bastidas, C., and E. M. Garcia. 2004. Sublethal effects of
mercury and its distribution in the coral Porites
astreoides. Marine Ecology Progress Series 267:13343.
Blaikie, P. 2006. Is small really beautiful? Community-based
natural resource management in Malawi and Botswana.
World Development 34 (11): 194257.
Boelens, R., and M. Seemann. 2014. Forced engagements:
Water security and local rights formalization in Yanque, Colca Valley, Peru. Human Organization 73 (1): 1
12.
Bonta, M. 2005. Becoming-forest, becoming-local: Transformations of a protected area in Honduras. Geoforum
36:95112.
Bonta, M., and J. Protevi. 2004. Deleuze and geophilosophy: A
guide and glossary. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press.
Braun, B. 2008. Environmental issues: Inventive life. Progress in Human Geography 32 (5): 66779.
Brockington, D., R. Duffy, and J. Igoe. 2008. Nature
unbound: Conservation, capitalism and the future of protected areas. London: Earthscan.
Bryant, R. L. 2002. Non-governmental organizations and
governmentality: Consuming biodiversity and indigenous people in the Philippines. Political Studies 50:
26892.

183

Campbell, L. M., and A. Vainio-Mattila. 2003. Participatory development and community-based conservation:
Opportunities missed for lessons learned? Human Ecology 31 (3): 41737.
Castells, M. 2012. Networks of outrage and hope: Social movements in the Internet age. Cambridge, UK: Polity.
Chapin, M. 2004. A challenge to conservationists. World
Watch NovemberDecember:1731.
Chouvelon, T., M. Warnau, C. Churlaud, and P. Bustamante.
2009. Hg concentrations and related risk assessment in
coral reef crustaceans, molluscs and fish from New Caledonia. Environmental Pollution 157 (1): 33140.
Cochin, C. 2008. La mine peut-elle g^ener le lagon [Can the
mine disturb the lagoon]? Les Nouvelles Cal
edoniennes 14
March.
http://www.lnc.nc/article/environment/la-minepeut-elle-gener-le-lagon (last accessed 28 September 2015).
Colman, F. J. 2005. Rhizome. In The Deleuze dictionary.
Revised ed., ed. A. Parr, 23235. Edinburgh, UK: Edinburgh University Press.
Comit
e Rh
e
ebu Nuu. 2008. V
e
e e gu
ev
e
e ree yedjii
djar
u2008 [Our wordSacred day]. Noum
ea, New
Caledonia: Rh
e
ebu Nuu.
Couce, E., A. Ridgwell, and E. J. Hendy. 2013. Future habitat suitability for coral reef ecosystems under global
warming and ocean acidification. Global Change Biology
19 (12): 35923606.
Crow, B., and J. Carney. 2013. Commercializing nature:
Mangrove conservation and female oyster collectors in
The Gambia. Antipode 45 (2): 27593.
Crowley, K. 1999. Lake Pedders loss and failed restoration:
Ecological politics meets liberal democracy in Tasmania. Australian Journal of Political Science 34:40924.
David, G., M. Leopold, P. S. Dumas, J. Ferraris, J.-B. Herrenschmidt, and G. Fontenelle. 2010. Integrated
coastal zone management perspectives to ensure the
sustainability of coral reefs in New Caledonia. Marine
Pollution Bulletin 61:32334.
De Landa, M. 2000. Deleuze, diagrams, and the genesis of
form. Amerikastudien/American Studies 45 (1): 3341.
del Rio, G. 2009. Les lagons cal
edoniens acteurs de la citoyennet
e avec Isabelle Ohlen [The Caledonian
lagoons, stakeholders in citizenship with Isabelle
Ohlen]. Mw
a V
e
e 63:3243.
Deleuze, G. 1995. Foucault. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press.
Deleuze, G., and F. Guattari. 1987. A thousand plateaus:
Capitalism and schizophrenia. Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press.
Devillers, R., R. L. Pressey, A. Grech, J. N. Kittinger, G. J.
Edgar, T. Ward, and R. Watson. 2015. Reinventing residual reserves in the sea: Are we favouring ease of establishment over need for protection? Aquatic Conservation:
Marine and Freshwater Ecosystems 25 (4): 480504.


Direction de lIndustrie des Mines et de lEnergie.
2012. Les
sites dactivit
e du nickel en Nouvelle-Cal
edonie 2012
[Active nickel mining sites in New Caledonia 2012.]
http://www.dimenc.gouv.nc/portal/page/portal/dimenc/
mines_carrieres/mines (last accessed 24 February 2015).
Disko, S. 2012. World Heritage sites and indigenous
communities: The importance of adopting a human
rights-based approach. In Community development
through World Heritage. World Heritage Papers No. 31,

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

184

Horowitz

ed. M.-T. Albert, M. Richon, M. J. Vi~

nals, and A. Witcomb, 1626. Paris: UNESCO.
Dressler, W., B. B
uscher, M. Schoon, D. Brockington, T.
Hayes, C. A. Kull, J. McCarthy, and K. Shrestha. 2010.
From hope to crisis and back again? A critical history
of the global CBNRM narrative. Environmental Conservation 37 (1): 515.
Duffy, R. 2010. Nature crime: How were getting conservation
wrong. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Edgar, G. J., P. F. Langhammer, G. Allen, T. M. Brooks, J. Brodie, W. Crosse, N. De Silva, et al. 2008. Key biodiversity
areas as globally significant target sites for the conservation
of marine biological diversity. Aquatic Conservation: Marine
and Freshwater Ecosystems 18 (6): 96983.
Goro Nickel. 2007. Overall site plan on aerial view. Unpublished map. Noumea, New Caledonia: Goro Nickel.
Goro Nickel: Tous daccord pour le tuyau [Goro Nickel:
Everyone in agreement for the pipe]. 2008. Les Nouvelles Cal
edoniennes 11 July 2008. http://www.lnc.nc/
article/economic/goro-nickel-tous-daccord-pour-letuyau (last accessed 28 September 2015).
Gouvernement de la Nouvelle-Cal
edonie. 2009. Le sch
ema
de mise en valeur des richesses minieres de la NouvelleCal
edonie [Overview of plans for the development of
New Caledonias mineral wealth]. Noum
ea, New Caledonia: Gouvernement de la Nouvelle-Cal
edonie.
Hay, P., and R. Eckersley. 1993. Tasmanias Labor-Green
accord 198991: Lessons from Lilliput. Environmental
Politics 2 (1): 8893.
Hildyard, N., P. Hegde, P. Wolvekamp, and S. Reddy. 2001.
Pluralism,
participation
and
power:
Joint
forest management in India. In Participation: The new tyranny?, ed. B. Cooke and U. Kothari, 5671. London: Zed.
Hillier, J. 2000. Going round the back? Complex networks
and informal action in local planning processes. Environment and Planning A 32 (1): 3354.
Horowitz, L. S. 2004. R
eserver sa place: D
efinitions kanak
du concept de r
eserve de ressources naturelles
vivantes [Reserving ones place: Kanak defintions of
the concept of reserving living natural resources]. In
Les Aires prot
eg
ees insulaires et littorales tropicales, ed. J.M. Lebigre and P. M. Decoudras, 14148. Bordeaux,
France: CRET.
. 2008. Its up to the clan to protect: Cultural heritage
and the micropolitical ecology of conservation in New
Caledonia. The Social Science Journal 45 (2): 25878.
. 2012. Translation alignment: Actor-network theory, resistance, and the power dynamics of alliance in
New Caledonia. Antipode 44 (3): 80627.
. 2015. Culturally articulated neoliberalization: Corporate social responsibility and the capture of indigenous legitimacy in New Caledonia. Transactions of the
Institute of British Geographers 40 (1): 88101.
Hutton, J., W. M. Adams, and J. C. Murombedzi. 2005. Back
to the barriers? Changing narratives in biodiversity conservation. Forum for Development Studies 2:34170.
Incos new PAL. 1999. Mining Journal 333 (8555): 340.




Institut de la Statistique et des Etudes
Economiques
Nouvelle-Cal
edonie. 2015. Recensement [Census]. http://
www.isee.nc/population/recensement (last accessed 23
February 2015).

International Council on Mining and Metals. 2003. No-go

pledge signals new era of collaboration with the conservation movement. ICMM Newsletter 2 (4): 14.
International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). 2012.
No danger listing for four natural World Heritage sites
against IUCN advice. International news release, 29 June
2012. http://www.iucn.org/media/news_releases/?10279/
No-danger-listing-for-four-natural-World-Heritage-sites
against-IUCN-advice (last accessed 24 February 2015).
International Union for Conservation of Nature, International Council on Monuments and Sites, and International Centre for Study of the Preservation and
Restoration of Cultural Property. 2014. World Heritage
and rights-based approaches. Report from workshop,
Oslo, Norway.
International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs. 2013. International expert workshop on the World Heritage Convention and Indigenous Peoples, Copenhagen, Denmark.
Joppa, L. N., and A. Pfaff. 2009. High and far: Biases in the
location of protected areas. PLoS ONE 4 (12): e8273.
Keck, M. E., and K. Sikkink. 1999. Transnational advocacy
networks in international and regional politics. International Social Science Journal 51 (159): 89101.
Kier, G., H. Kreft, T. M. Lee, W. Jetz, P. L. Ibisch, C. Nowicki, J. Mutke, and W. Barthlott. 2009. A global assessment of endemism and species richness across island and
mainland regions. Proceedings of the National Academy of
Sciences of the United States of America 106 (23): 932227.
Lyday, T. Q. 2006. The mineral industry of New Caledonia.
In U.S. Geological Survey minerals yearbook, ed. U.S.
Geological Survey, 17.117.2. Reston, VA: U.S. Geological Survey.
Margules, C. R., and R. L. Pressey. 2000. Systematic conservation planning. Nature 405 (6783): 24353.
Massumi, B. 1987. Translators foreword: Pleasures of philosophy. In A thousand plateaus: Capitalism and schizophrenia, ed. G. Deleuze and F. Guattari, ixxv.
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Mayaka, T. B. 2002. Wildlife co-management in the
B
enou
e National Park-Complex, Cameroon: A bumpy
road to institutional development. World Development
30 (11): 200116.
Mayer, R. C., J. H. Davis, and F. D. Schoorman. 1995. An
integrative model of organizational trust. The Academy
of Management Review 20 (3): 70934.
McFarlane, C. 2009. Translocal assemblages: Space, power
and social movements. Geoforum 40 (4): 56167.
Meskell, L. 2014. States of conservation: Protection, politics,
and pacting within UNESCOs World Heritage Committee. Anthropological Quarterly 87 (1): 21743.
Mouffe, C., ed. 1996. Deconstruction and pragmatism. London
and New York: Routledge.
Peluso, N. 1992. Rich forests, poor people: Resource control and
resistance in Java. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Pitoiset, A. 2014. Nouvelle Cal
edonie: Un nouvel arr^et qui
tombe mal pour lusine Vale [New Caledonia: A new


stoppage thats bad news for Vales refinery]. Les Echos
8 May 2014. http://www/lesechos.fr/08/05/2014/
lesechos.fr/0203485716014_nouvelle-caledonie---unnouvel-arret-qui-tombe-mal-pour-l-usine-vale.htm
(last accessed 28 September 2015).

Downloaded by [Princeton University] at 19:21 06 January 2016

Rhizomic Resistance Meets Arborescent Assemblage

Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u manifestera ce matin avec la Codefsud
[Rh
e
eb
u N
u
u will demonstrate this morning with
Codefsud]. 2008. Les Nouvelles Cal
edoniennes 29 March
2008.
Richer de Forges, B., and M. Pascal. 2008. La NouvelleCal
edonie, un point chaud de la biodiversit
e mondiale gravement menac
e par lexploitation miniere
[New Caledonia, a hotspot of global biodiversity, seriously threatened by mining exploitation]. Journal de la
Soci
et
e des Oc
eanistes 126127:95112.
Rivoilan, P., and D. Broustet. 2011. Recensement de la population 2009 [Population census 2009]. Synthese, Insti



tut de la Statistique et des Etudes
Economiques
NouvelleCal
edonie 19:14.
Russell, J., and M. Jambrecina. 2002. Wilderness and cultural landscapes: Shifting management emphases in the
Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area. Australian Geographer 33 (2): 12539.
Selznick, P. 1948. Foundations of the theory of organization. American Sociological Review 13 (1): 2535.
Shah, A. 2010. In the shadows of the state: Indigenous politics,
environmentalism, and insurgency in Jharkhand, India.
Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
Stagoll, C. 2005. Arborescent schema. In The Deleuze dictionary. Revised ed., ed. A. Parr, 1415. Edinburgh, UK:
Edinburgh University Press.
Sztompka, P. 1999. Trust: A sociological theory. Cambridge,
UK: Cambridge University Press.
Teulieres, M.-H. 1991. Melanesian and European systems of marine resource management in New Caledonia. Resource Management and Optimization 8 (34):
16777.
United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). 2011. Operational guidelines for the

185

implementation of the World Heritage Convention. Paris:

UNESCO World Heritage Centre.
. 2014. Engaging local communities in stewardship
of World Heritage. World Heritage Papers No. 40,
UNESCO, Paris.
. n.d. World Heritage: Mission. http://whc.unesco.
org/en/about/ (last accessed 24 February 2015).
Vale Inco, Conseil Coutumier de lAire Drub
ea Kapume,
and Comit
e Rh
e
ebu Nuu. 2008. Pacte pour un
d
eveloppement durable du Grand Sud [Pact for the sustainable development of the far south]. Noum
ea, New
Caledonia: Vale Inco Nouvelle-Cal
edonie.
Wells, M. P., and T. O. McShane. 2004. Integrating protected area management with local needs and aspirations. Ambio 33 (8): 51319.
West, P., J. Igoe, and D. Brockington. 2006. Parks and peoples: The social impact of protected areas. Annual
Review of Anthropology 35:25177.
Woods, M., J. Anderson, S. Guilbert, and S. Watkin. 2013.
Rhizomic radicalism and arborescent advocacy: A DeleuzoGuattarian reading of rural protest. Environment
and Planning D: Society & Space 31:43450.
Zdebik, J. 2012. Deleuze and the diagram: Aesthetic threads in
visual organization. London: Continuum.
LEAH S. HOROWITZ is an Assistant Professor with a joint
appointment in the Nelson Institute for Environmental
Studies and the School of Human Ecology at the University
of WisconsinMadison, Madison, WI 53706. E-mail: LHorowitz@wisc.edu. Her research addresses ways that social
relationships and networks shape grassroots engagements
with environmental issues, including climate change, mining, and urban and rural biodiversity conservation.