Nature, that is really important to Chris Franssen from Kerkrade, employee at car factory VDL Nedcar. But a forest in South Limburg, as far as he’s concerned, that’s not the Amazon or anything like that. “Why don’t those activists go there?”
This afternoon Franssen is one of the hundreds of Nedcar employees who are participating in a demonstration in front of the main factory building along the A2. They want to show that they are in favor of the demolition of the Sterrebos located next to the factory – an intervention that is crucial for the expansion of the only car factory in the Netherlands.
In just a few days, that forest, just a few football fields in size, just north of Sittard, has grown into a dramatic symbol of a clash between nature and employment. Nedcar, already one of the largest factories in the Netherlands, has to expand, according to the management, in order to bring in a new client. Production for BMW will stop in 2023; nearly 5,000 jobs are at stake. As a potential successor, the American electrical start-up Rivian could only use the factory with an extra production line.
To do this, the Sterrebos, owned by Nedcar’s parent company VDL, must disappear. And that was reason for Red Het Sterrebos to climb the trees with activists. According to the foundation, it is a special forest, with many diverse animal species and several centuries-old trees. Activists have been hanging around in the canopy since Friday without interruption – also at night and during storm Corrie. They started with about twenty. Tuesday evening there were three more; new activists are no longer allowed in by hired security guards, and many have left because of the cold.
Electric cars
The occupation has led to a lot of frustration among factory employees. “I’m not going to repeat the expletives,” smiles Ron Peeters, FNV board member for the factory. According to his own account, his mailbox was full from Friday. According to him, executives decided to organize the manifestation on Tuesday afternoon.
Between the FNV and CNV flags, the employees, mostly men in blue overalls, are happy to explain what is bothering them. VDL wants to make electric, green cars with the expansion. “They really should go to Tata Steel,” says Eric van Alphen, who has been working at Nedcar for 33 years and comes from a village a little further. And, he wants to add, don’t forget that VDL wants to replant four times more trees in the area.
What seems to sting the most is the feeling that people who are not from the area at all are torpedoing employment here. Do they understand how important Nedcar is to Limburg, as one of the largest employers? And how exciting is it that you are always dependent on clients? Eric van Alphen says he has already experienced countless reorganisations. Now there is finally a new client, you get this.
Albert Nacken, who works in the logistics department and comes from Kerkrade, suspects where the activists come from: from the Randstad. He has “nothing against the Dutch”, he says. “We are all Dutch.” Still, he thinks it’s crazy.
A kilometer away, in the Sterrebos, a spokesperson for the activists says that the occupation was brought about by local people. A local resident is said to have tipped off the Extinction Rebellion department in Maastricht. An action was then set up via app groups and networks, after which activists from all over the world and even from other countries were involved.
Red Het Sterrebos exhausted herself on Tuesday to make it clear that she is not against employment. Nedcar simply has to expand elsewhere, according to the spokesperson, for example where the parking lot is now. The forest may seem small and not so special, but it has long been established that many bat species live there, for example. Moreover, the forest is not just a collection of trees: the Cultural Heritage Agency of the Netherlands writes on its website that the Sterrebos is a ‘well-preserved eighteenth-century woodcutting forest’.
While activist Maarten laughs along a rope between two trees, his parents watch from the road. They come from the Amsterdam region – they regularly come to see their son’s actions. The retired teacher and retired health care worker (they won’t give names) are “proud,” says the father. “That he dares and does this.” Then a car honks from the road towards the factory and Maarten’s mother starts laughing. What was that? “A middle finger,” she says.
Mmv Paul van der Steen
A version of this article also appeared in NRC on the morning of February 2, 2022