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23 December 2003 Vengeful
nature
THERE'S something about that word
"deforestation" being overused, especially whenever we have
disasters like this last deadly one in Southern Leyte province and
Surigao City.
Don't get me wrong. I totally agree that the country is rapidly becoming
deforested and that this is a major cause of our floods and landslides.
But I feel uneasy about the word because it is impersonal and distant,
too easy to invoke.
When we hear the word we think, in passing, of illegal logging, which
itself is still an abstraction (we can almost hear the chainsaws
bringing down the trees but that's about it). We suspect big-time
businessmen backed by politicians and the military, and shrug our
shoulders -- they're untouchable, there's nothing we can do.
Disasters always bring out the need for explanations. We mourn with the
relatives over the bloated, muddied corpses, read the headline,
"Deforestation blamed," and feel some catharsis. Note, too,
how all this talk of deforestation is accompanied by metaphoric accounts
of Mother Nature getting back at us, spiteful and destructive.
But, wait, there's something wrong somewhere here. It seems nurturing
Mother Nature has run amuck. The bloody toll in lives isn't one of
illegal loggers but of impoverished villagers, of old grandpas and
grandmas, of infants, of high school students about to graduate in a few
months, including one class valedictorian.
It's time we seriously look at the people, at the web of power
relations, behind deforestation. The illegal loggers aren't just
businessmen backed by politicians; all too often, we know the
politicians are themselves illegal loggers. Power allows them to strip
down the mountains.
Ironically, deforestation occurs as well because of disempowerment. I am
talking here about the link between poverty and deforestation.
Deforestation occurs when the poor are deprived of land and are forced
to move from the lowlands toward areas around mountains and, eventually,
to the mountain slopes. Besides the public lands available for
cultivation, there is the attraction of trees, a ready source of timber
for housing, for fuel.
Many upland areas were originally occupied by cultural minority groups,
who are themselves now displaced by lowland settlers. Unlike the
cultural minority groups, the new migrants often have little knowledge
of upland ecology and will quickly deplete the resources in their new
environment.
I say all this not to blame deforestation on the poor. The problem lies
in governance and our public policies, from the coddling of
politician-loggers to land-grabbing to the neglect of our farmers' needs
for agricultural production. I could go on and on, even linking
deforestation to our energy policies. I was struck by an Inquirer story
about one family being saved from the landslides because they were
protected by trees they had planted in front of their house. From the
species named (gmelina), I know this was part of a tree-replanting
campaign. I can imagine the other homes that may have planted trees but
eventually cut them down for firewood. Unless we seriously look into
energy, including the use of alternatives such as solar power, many
rural families will have to continue taking down the trees.
The tragedy in Southern Leyte and Surigao reminds me, too, of the total
absence of recognition, among our policymakers, of the link between
population and environment issues.
In the past 10 years it has become politically incorrect to talk about
"overpopulation." Family planning is promoted mainly as an
issue of household economics. We thus hear people rationalizing,
"Oh, if a couple can afford it, then let them go ahead and have
eight children." Never mind that having eight children places a
greater strain not just on the biological mother, but on society and
Mother Nature as well.
For those opposed to family planning, "overpopulation" is an
even uglier word. There is no population problem, they argue. In fact, a
large population is good for the economy because that means more
consumers to fuel the growth of the Gross National Product. Never mind
the question of providing health and education and all the other
services that these consumers need.
And our natural resources? Oh, the anti-family planning groups will
argue that we still have unused and bountiful mountains, forests, rivers
and seas all around us. Sure, show them to me in Southern Leyte and in
Surigao.
We need to go beyond slogans like "Save the forests." Tell
that to the impoverished farmer who sees the uplands as agricultural
land, as a source of fuel. In the same token, you can't hector this
impoverished farmer about planning his family. He sees more children as
extra hands to survive day to day, and in his old age, to have people to
care for him. The numbers of our poor will continue to grow and each
generation, neglected by society, will move further upland, trying to
survive on what's left behind by illegal loggers, until the mountains
come crashing down again.
Deforestation is too convenient a term to use. Even some of the
politician-loggers will themselves blame deforestation, knowing that in
a few days, election fever will once again take over and we will forget
Liloan, San Francisco, San Ricardo, Pintuyan and Surigao City, much like
we did Ormoc, Cherry Hills (Antipolo), and Payatas (Quezon City).
If we must insist on using metaphors, I have to say nature isn't
vengeful at all. It's amazing to see how much abuse she takes before she
finally gives up. In the end, she doesn't lash out in fury; instead, she
cries out in despair as the remaining trees, and helpless people, are
swept up and thrown, lifeless, back into her embrace. It's not
deforestation, it's not nature that kills. It's people.
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