Differing opinions on resources

Alan Lee

Rezoning the Bahuaja Sonene National Park to exploit oil reserves is unforgiveable. We live in a growing world where resources are needed. Economies are booming, and these resources have values in the only thing anyone across the world has learnt to value in common – money. I am not an economist and would not be able to follow the current arguments for valuing forests in terms of future potential carbon credits. I must confess I have been neither here nor there when it comes to extracting oil in Alaska. But the currency for me that makes Bahuaja Sonene so species is simply in the number of individual species that have managed to find a niche to live in. Like some people in the city around me seek thrills and instant gratification from the diversity of entertainment that mobile phones, shops, clubs and ipods have to offer, I seek those thrills in seeking out that special encounter with unique birds and large wildlife. And that is all under threat now.

My father is a geologist in South Africa. He has been a consultant to platinum mines for years. He is also someone who takes great pleasure in relaxing in the outdoors. But recently he has turned his time and skills to the development of mines. South Africa needs iron, and the hills covered in farmland not far from Johannesburg have them. South Africa has a strong conservation ethic and so now long gone are the days when mining activities could strip an area and leave piles of unvegetated soil in their wake, like the now iconic mine hills of Johannesburg. Now mining proposals have to go through a rigorous environmental impact process, where all possibly threatened species are documented and a detailed impact mitigation plans need to be outlined and the necessary resources and money committed for post-project restoration.

During my last trip to South Africa at the beginning of the year I went to a site destined to become a mine and drove around with my dad. The area is mostly farmland to some degree. The site that has been identified for extraction is on a hill slope that to date has escaped farming. From the slopes, I can look across the valley to other mining operations. They are red scars on the slope of the other side of the valley. The actual deposit is only covered by stunted grassland with a few shrubs. I know that the special plants and frogs that are being found in the surrounding vegetation will eventually not stop the mining. A friend of mine is actually heading the impact assessment. But I feel comforted at least that efforts will be made to address the damage done afterwards. This is not prime virgin forest or a protected area. And as long as I continue to use vehicles and resources I know I have no right to complain.

Leaving the site I spot a snake sunning itself on the edge of the road cutting. We bring the vehicle to a sudden halt. By the time I have jumped out of the vehicle the snake is already escaping into a crevasse in the broken rocks. My passion for these animals causes me to grab it by the tail to pull it out. I have to pull back some of the broken rocks. Eventually I can feel it begin to give and pull it to the ground at my feet. I do not know what it is and I am wary, but all it is doing is trying to escape. It slithers back into the broken rocks, poking its nose into cracks, trying to find an escape from the human marauders. Suddenly it moves sideways allowing me a good view of its profile. My heart pounds as I suddenly recognise what it is: a venomous Mozambique spitting cobra. I turn to my dad to tell him to keep back and at the same time feel something wet hit my hand, the cobra is spitting from an awkward angle that does not allow it to shoot for the preferred target: the eyes. The humans freeze and the snake goes back to concentrating on its primary intent: escape. Eventually it finds a crack that leads further back into the rocky hill, and disappears.

I bear this animal no malice. I was the intruder in it’s world. I feel sad. I know that this area will be churned up soon by heavy machinery. I can hope it will escape into the surrounding bush. But those areas are diminishing and I can’t help feel it won’t be long before it suffers the strike of steel against its neck from someone less appreciative. But maybe in the long distant future when the iron has gone, then the grand-children of that snake will come back to haunt the revegetated slopes.

“Why don’t you join with the enemy?” he asks upon hearing about the crisis the National Park faces in Peru. I can’t say I have not thought of that. Activism doesn’t pay any bills. My response: Making a change from within is important. But a place would not be given for someone to make that difference from the inside if it was not from the pressure from the outside, the public voice, the banners of the concerned, consumer boycotts and the like from the outside. The process of regulating exploitation of our natural resources is a process that works through pressure from inside and out.

I would in no doubt be in a bigger conflict with my dad if he was involved in the setting up of a mine in a protected area. But he is not, yet. And this is the drive of my concern now. An oil company has been left out of the allotments that have divided up the rest of the country. They are trying to redefine a park boundary. They are trying to get in on the action, riding the wave of the world’s need for oil and gas, trying to improve their asset base. This is selfish and unnecessary. That park is to me and anyone concerned with wildlife as a mosque to a Muslim or church to a Christian. They conserve what is precious in non-monetary terms. And if that is not to be respected then the Peruvian government needs to consider the trends in global environmental concern where increasingly value is being placed in the world’s forests, like Costa Rica. Don’t pass that bill, its not worth it.