Indigenous Peoples and the new ‘Global Vision’ on Forests:

 

Implications and Prospects

 

 

By Marcus Colchester[1]

 

 

 

 

Introduction:

 

The ‘global vision’ and its rationale: a summary

In 1997, the World Bank and the WorldWide Fund for Nature (WWF) announced the establishment of a new ‘Alliance’. The Alliance was to be shaped around a joint strategy designed to meet the WWF’s dual campaign targets of ‘setting aside’ 10% of all major forest ecosystems as protected areas and bringing an additional 200 million hectares of the world’s forests under sustainable forest management, both by the year 2005.[5]

 

The Alliance aims to take advantage of the convening power of the WWF to work with a wide range of ‘stakeholders’ and the financial muscle and policy leverage of the World Bank. From the Bank’s point of view, there was the added expectation that its engagement in this Alliance could salvage its reputation on forests which had been severely damaged by revelations in the 1980s that many of its projects were contributing to massive deforestation.

 

In the two years since the setting up of this Alliance a number of factors have encouraged the Bank and the WWF to clarify and refine the logical basis for the adoption of these targets. Where do these figures come from? Which actual forests are to be targeted? How do these targets relate to the Bank’s overriding goals of poverty alleviation and ‘sustainable development’? How can the Bank seek to achieve these global targets when it only has operations in developing countries, which account for only half the world’s forests and only 40% of world trade in industrial roundwood?

 

To deal with some of these concerns, Bank and WWF staff have identified the need for a clear and shared vision of what they envisage for the world’s forests, based on the best available information about forest trends. One powerful influence has been the wider availability of GIS tools, which now help environment and development planners visualise what is actually happening to forests on the ground. Improved data about rates of deforestation have also sharpened concerns about whether these targets are realisable or even too modest. Revised FAO and WRI figures suggest that forest loss is still accelerating with global annual loss now estimated at 15 million hectares per year.[6]

 

In the 1980s and early 1990s, it was received wisdom in the development agencies that the main pressure on tropical forests came from the poor.[7] Many NGOs argued that such statements were tantamount to ‘blaming the victim’ and put a lot of effort into  demonstrating the links between deforestation, landlessness and poverty and the processes of land and wealth concentration, which were in turn driven by macro-economic forces and global trade. They called for secure tenure for indigenous peoples and participatory agrarian reforms for peasants to address the linked problems of ecological injustice and deforestation.[8] These kinds of cross-sectoral linkages were accepted by some Bank staff.[9] Subsequent studies have demonstrated that forest loss is being caused by logging far more than had previously been thought. NGO case studies showed how the demands of the timber, and later paper and pulp, industries have heavily simplified and degraded boreal and temperate forests.[10] They also exposed the corruption in the timber industry, explored the political ecology of forest loss and drew attention to the activities of migratory loggers who have been expanding their operations out of South-East Asia and now pose an increasingly serious threat to the world’s forests.[11]

 

A highly influential report issued by the World Resources Institute in 1997, which consolidated many of the available GIS data sets, demonstrated that much of the world’s remaining old-growth forests, catchily named ‘Frontier Forests’, are severely threatened, particularly by these kinds of predatory logging operations.[12] On top of this, projections of world demand for pulp and paper products, industrial roundwood and croplands all suggest that market pressures on forests will intensify over the coming decades. 

 

Putting these kinds of figures together results in a worrying scenario. According to World Bank/WWF projections, by 2050 a further 200 million hectares of the world’s total 3.2 billlion hectares of forests will be lost to agriculture, while to service a projected demand of 3 billion cubic metres of industrial roundwood per year, up to half of the worlds’ remaining forests will be subject to logging at an intensity of 2 cubic metres/ha/year.[13] This may be taking logging up to the limits, as according to one study up to half of all forests are likely to remain inaccessible to logging for the foreseeable future.[14]

 

There are other major forces at work too. Rising demand for paper and pulp has already led to a massive expansion of timber plantations. Timber plantations in boreal and temperate forests already cover some 61 million hectares and, in recent years, plantations have expanded massively to cover some 81 million hectares of land in the tropics, with some countries doubling the extent of their plantations every five years. Influential agencies like the World Bank have argued that ‘resource expansion’ (tree plantations) can reduce pressure on natural forests.[15] The further prospect that plantations will gain financing through the Kyoto Protocol have encouraged planners to see further plantation development as a major part of the ‘solution’ to the forest crisis.[16]

 

Incorporating these new elements has thus led the WWF/World Bank Alliance to evolve a counter-vision for the future of the world’s forests. Taking advantage of the additional financing and the possibilities for intensive tree farming, an ‘Intensification Model’ has been put forward to meet the same market demands – a ‘model’ which corresponds closely with the Bank’s existing forest policy.[17] Under this model, 200 million hectares of forests will still be ineluctably lost to agricultural expansion but intensified forest management – intensive silviculture and plantations – on 600 million hectares of forest yielding up to 5 cubic metres of roundwood per hectare per year would service the global market, potentially freeing an additional 900 million hectares of forest for additional protected areas, while still leaving a further 1.5 billlion hectares of forests relatively inaccessible and untouched.

 

Social implications:

Questions about the validity of this kind of visioning do not only lie in doubts about the accuracy of the figures being used but in concern for the considerations that are left out.[18] A problem with GIS data sets is that they tend to leave out complex local social and political matters that cannot easily be mapped – local markets, social structures, political relations, identities, beliefs and livelihoods – but which tend to be highly relevant to actual decisions about resource use. Moreover, basic information about forest-dwelling peoples is often lacking or highly inaccurate.[19] There is also considerable nervousness about the political and institutional implications of this kind of ‘top-down’ approach to forest-policy making: who is involved in developing these visions? Who is included and who is left out? Whose interests are strengthened and whose marginalised in these visioning exercises?

 

Detractors have thus raised a whole series of questions about the ‘forest visioning’ approach. Is it prudent to base forest policy-making on an acceptance of future consumption patterns? Shouldn’t reduction of demand be prioritised instead? If sustainability is the objective, shouldn’t production targets be derived from the real potential of forest ecosystems to sustainably yield timber rather than on consumer demand projections? How does such a vision and set of targets translate into operational objectives for Bank staff? What connections are there between the vision and the Bank’s poverty alleviation goals? How can such approaches best be tailored to suit any one country or locality? Above all, where do people fit into this vision? How does such an approach fit with the notion of ‘sustainable development’ elaborated by the World Commission on Environment and Development and adopted by the World Bank, in which ‘local people should have a decisive voice in the formulation of policies about resource use in their areas’’?[20] 

 

This paper thus explores the inherent tensions between the global visioning approach and the concerns of local communities, specifically indigenous peoples, pressing for rights to their territories and to self-determination and seeking local solutions to local problems.

 

Forest visioning: past lessons

Before examining the social implications of the new ‘global vision’ or ‘intensification model’, it is important to recall previous experiences in developing global visions for forests. Global approaches to conservation planning have long been favoured by conservationists and have been expressed through previous visions such as the World Conservation Strategy of the early 1980s, which led to the development of national conservation strategies and in turn triggered a number of other environmental and forestry planning processes.[21] These have included processes such as the Biodiversity Conservation Strategy led by the IUCN, National Environment Action Plans promoted by the World Bank, Tropical Forestry Action Plans, promoted by the World Bank, UNDP, FAO and WRI, and a host of others.[22] All these approaches have been criticised for failing to address the underlying causes of environmental degradation, for imposing top-down plans on developing countries and local communities and for failing to take into account critical local issues such as: the effectiveness of national regulatory frameworks; institutional capacity; prevailing power relations; human rights; land tenure; women’s interests; indigenous peoples; and ecological realities.[23] 

 

The experience with the Tropical Forestry Action Plan (TFAP) is particularly relevant. Like the new ‘global vision’, the TFAP emerged from a global review of the current forest situation.[24] It advocated a major expansion of plantations as a way of supplying global demand for wood products and promoted the intensification of ‘sustained yield’ forestry to promote national development goals and curb deforestation. It also called for substantial additional funds to achieve these goals.[25] Almost immediately the plan ran into a storm of criticism, principally for its failure to prioritise the interests of local communities. The plan excluded the participation of civil society in its elaboration, proposed technical solutions to address what many saw as political problems, reinforced existing power relations and thus institutionalised the status quo while further marginalising the poor and the powerless.[26] Although the proponents promised procedural reforms, subsequent reviews of the first 'national forestry action plans' first by the World Rainforest Movement and then by the WRI and FAO, demonstrated that the TFAP process was indeed seriously flawed, ignored the needs and rights of local communities and indigenous peoples, and was intensifying forest loss. The revelations were so shocking that a decision to ‘revamp’ the TFAP was taken that same year at the G-7 summit. Although strong efforts were then made to reform the TFAP, the FAO proved reluctant to open up the process to other ‘stakeholders’ such as indigenous peoples and NGOs and the other international agencies gradually dropped out of the programme. The main lesson of the TFAP was its demonstration of the need to move forest policy-making out of the narrow confines of the 'forestry sector' and to adopt a much more integrated and participatory approach. The lessons of the TFAP experience can be set out in a table.[27]

 

 

Proponents of the new ‘global vision’ would do well to recall these controversies and errors, before falling into the same trap.

 

 

 

Indigenous Peoples and Forests: general issues[28]

 

Definitions:

There is no internationally agreed definition of indigenous peoples. In practice at the international level, the term includes a very wide variety of human societies including the ‘native’ and ‘aboriginal’ peoples of the Americas and the Pacific, the ‘tribal peoples’ and ‘minority nationalities’ of Asia and many non-dominant and discriminated ethnic groups in Africa. Indigenous peoples themselves insist on the principle of self-identification and see efforts to impose definitions on them as an affront to their right to self-determination. The principle of self-identification has been accepted by the International Labour Organisation (Convention 169 Article 1(2)) and by the United Nations Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and is adhered to in this document. The same principle has been accepted by the WorldWide Fund for Nature and the World Commission on Protected Areas.

 

For the purpose of its operations, the World Bank adopts a broad approach and treats as indigenous peoples those “social groups with a social and cultural identity distinct from the dominant society, which makes them vulnerable to being disadvantaged in the development process”. Key characteristics used by the Bank for identifying such peoples include:

 

·         close attachment to ancestral territories and to natural resources in these areas

·         self-identification and identification by others as members of a distinct group

·         an indigenous language, often different from the national language

·         presence of customary social and political institutions

·         primarily subsistence-oriented production.

 

A people need not demonstrate all these characteristics to be considered as an indigenous people by the Bank. The Bank’s inclusive approach thus includes as indigenous peoples, the ‘tribal peoples’ of Asia, Afro-American groups in Latin America and many marginalised ethnic groups in Africa.

 

Numbers, Rights, and State policies:

Indigenous peoples are estimated by the International Labour Organisation to number some 300 million worldwide. They speak as many as 4,000 of the world’s approximately 6,000 languages. International law recognises their rights inter alia to:

 

·         the ownership, control and management of their traditional territories, lands and resources.

·         exercise their customary law

·         represent themselves through their own institutions

·         control, and share in the benefits of the use of, their traditional knowledge

·         self-determination.[29]

 

Indigenous peoples are distinctive from other vulnerable social groups insofar as they are recognised by international law and by some States as autonomous seats of power within the state. They are recognised as exercising collective rights as groups. In many countries special laws and policies establish their distinctive status and rights. Actual State policies towards indigenous peoples vary greatly. In general, African States tend to deny the relevance of ‘tribal’ identities and institutions, which are seen as obstacles to nation-building. In Asia, indigenous peoples are commonly seen as ‘backward’ and national policies are primarily orientated to promote the rapid assimilation or integration of indigenous peoples into the national mainstream, by re-education, resettlement and the prohibition of traditional cultural and religious practices. In some countries, as in India, a policy of positive discrimination is adopted, reserving quotas in education and administration for indigenous peoples. More recently, especially in Latin America, Governments are beginning to accept the multi-ethnic nature of States and are adopting policies promoting cultural tolerance, bilingual education, regional autonomy and collective territorial ownership and control by indigenous peoples, including Afro-Americans.

 

Development standards:

International development agencies have adopted specific policies towards indigenous peoples designed to respect existing and emerging principles of international law and to ensure that their programmes and projects fully take into account these peoples’ distinctive needs and rights. The World Bank’s Operational Directive 4.20 is designed to condition Bank projects to ensure borrower government adherence to these standards. The policy requires operational staff to ensure that:

 

·         there is a clear borrower government commitment to adhere to the Bank’s policy

·         acceptable mechanisms are in place to ensure indigenous participation in the full project cycle

·         an indigenous peoples component is developed which

-          makes an assessment of the national legal framework regarding indigenous peoples

-          provides baseline data about the indigenous peoples to be affected

-          establishes a mechanism for the legal recognition of indigenous peoples’ rights, especially tenure rights

-          includes sub-components in health care, education, legal assistance and institution building

-          provides for capacity-building of the government agency dealing with indigenous peoples

-          establishes a clear schedule for fitting actions related to indigenous peoples into the overall project, with a clear and adequate budget

·         final contracts and disbursements are conditional on government compliance with these measures[30]

 

In November 1998, the European Union also adopted a Resolution, which is binding on member states, setting out basic principles for development assistance affecting indigenous peoples. Special standards on indigenous peoples have also been adopted by a number of the bilateral aid agencies including by the German, Dutch, Danish and Belgian governments. A key principle common to these policies is the recognition of these peoples’ rights to their lands and territories. The more progressive also accept that projects should not go ahead on indigenous peoples’ lands without their prior and informed consent.

 

Indigenous perspectives and forest policies:

Indigenous peoples themselves have made several clear statements about how they feel they should be accommodated by forest policy-making. In 1992, in preparation for the Rio Summit, the International Alliance of Indigenous and Tribal Peoples of the Tropical Forests set out the basic demands and concerns of forest-dwelling indigenous peoples in the form of a ‘Charter’.[31] These concepts were later refined in the ‘Leticia Declaration’ which was the outcome of an intersessional meeting of the InterGovernmental Panel on Forests.[32]

 

Global data are lacking on the extent to which forests are owned or claimed by indigenous peoples. They inhabit the majority of tropical forests, including mangroves, and also range over, use, own or claim very large proportions of boreal and temperate forests. The absence of reliable, comprehensive information about these peoples and the extent of their territories is just another result of their persistent marginalisation in forestry policies and practice.

 

Intensified natural forest management and indigenous peoples:

 

The experience of indigenous peoples:

Industrial timber extraction has created major problems for indigenous peoples ever since it was first imposed on them in the colonial era. The exploitative nature of French and Portuguese logging of brazilwood in the early 16^th century was remarked on as soon as it  started.[33] The creaming of the forests of French Equatorial Africa of the prized timber, okoume, depended on first crushing indigenous resistance, then the forced resettlement of forest peoples and, finally, the extraction of corvee labour to suppy the manpower that the industry demanded. Death rates in the logging camps were so high that an appalled Governor General felt obliged to denounce the practices of his own administration. The timber industry he wrote is a ‘great devourer of men’.[34] When the practice of ‘scientific forestry’ was introduced by the British into India and Burma in the 1850s and by the Dutch into Java, the establishment of forest reserves required the curtailment of indigenous rights. Conflict with indigenous peoples was immediate. Colonial opinions were divided over the wisdom or merits of denying indigenous peoples’ rights, but scientific forestry prevailed and set the dominant pattern for forest management in the tropics for the next century and a half.[35]

 

There have been surprisingly few detailed studies of the impact of modern forestry practices on indigenous peoples. The only authoritative long-term study of forest-dweller demography, carried out among the Agta people in the Philippines, shows clearly how logging and associated changes in disease ecology and land use, caused massive increases in mortality and severe health and nutritional impacts.[36] In Sarawak, the intensive logging of primary forests has caused a marked decline in game, both through direct disturbance of habitats and because of increased hunting pressure along access roads and skid trails. A study carried out for the WWF showed how mean intake of protein by Dayaks in logging areas declined from 54 kg/person/year to 12 kg/person/year. Logging also seriously increases soil erosion and consequently the turbidity of rivers, causing fish stocks to crash and thus further affecting community welfare. A Sarawak Government study showed that in recently logged areas, there is a three-fold increase in serious malnutrition in native communities, affecting some 31% of the population.[37] Likewise, logging in Central African forests has seriously depleted wildlife and encouraged a rapid escalation in the bushmeat trade.[38] A study of nutrition among indigenous peoples in the Brazilian Amazon has also revealed the highest rates of malnutrition in areas invaded by loggers.[39]

 

Changes in disease ecology as a result of logging have also been widely noted. In the tropics pools of standing water due to blocked or absent culverts on logging roads, in tyre-marks along skid-trails and in poorly designed log-ponds provide new breeding grounds for mosquitoes, which coupled with increased rates of in- and out-migration, have resulted in high incidences of diseases like malaria and dengue. In addition, very high rates of STD infection due to prostitution and exploitative sexual relationships in logging camps and nearby townships have been very widely reported.[40]

 

Logging operations are sometimes welcomed by indigenous peoples as they seem to offer employment opportunities, road access, clinics, religious centres and schools. Commonly, however, where provided, such services fall into disrepair when the industry moves on. Moreover, because indigenous people often lack formal education or training, they tend to be employed in low-paid, short-term, arduous and dangerous occupations such as tree-spotters, fellers and debarkers. Labour, health and safety regulations are often weak or not enforced. In Sarawak in the 1980s, for example, rates of death and injury of forest workers were 21 times as high as occur in Canada, with one serious injury for every 7000 cubic metres of timber extracted. Compensation for loss or injury proved nugatory.[41] In the northern Congo basin, where ‘pygmies’ make up as much as one half of the work force in lumber camps, diseases such as malaria, yaws, ulcers, tuberculosis and jiggers are rife, but the companies discriminate against them providing them with far fewer facilities than to Bantu workers. Pygmy communities around the logging camps have suffered a breakdown in their traditional social structure and a loss of forest-dwelling skills.[42]

 

Indigenous women, children and the elderly suffer disproportionately from logging. Those left behind in their villages are left to survive without able-bodied males, who are away wage-labouring. Those who migrate to logging camps become dependent on their husbands’ wages. Indigenous women may turn to prostitution to supplement family incomes and regain a measure of independence. Women have suffered particular hardship as their societies become increasingly enclosed and subject to the legal and cultural impositions of outsiders. Studies in  India and Malaysia show how indigenous women have lost control of land and are excluded from any effective participation in decision-making.[43]

 

One of the most pervasive problems of conventional forestry practice for indigenous peoples is that it commonly denies their rights to land. Customary tenure systems are often ignored in forestry zoning exercises and rights may be heavily conditioned, curtailed or unilaterally extinguished when forest reserves are established. Historically in many parts, and still today in some countries, government agencies oblige the involuntary resettlement of forest-dwelling indigenous peoples from forest reserves. Alternatively, special regimes may be applied which grant conditional rights or privileges to indigenous people in forests, subject to the authority of forest departments. The dependency that results can encourage the emergence of damaging, exploitative, even corrupt patron-client relations between forestry officials and indigenous peoples.[44] 

 

The overall impacts on indigenous social systems are also severe. New inequalities are introduced, customary laws, social support networks and systems of land management may be undermined, gambling and alcoholism increase, and migration to urban centres accelerates.  Lack of experience with cash and the implications of large-scale habitat changes can lead indigenous forest-owners into imprudent deals with forestry companies, which many later regret. Internal conflicts over decision-making, resource allocation and use of cash often result, further undermining social cohesion.[45]

 

Perhaps the most serious of all the impacts of logging on indigenous peoples is that it shifts the balance of power over forests away from forest-dwellers and in favour of industry and political elites. The reinforcement of patrimonial political systems and rent-seeking behaviours then become major obstacles to sustainable forest management and to policies that respect indigenous peoples’ rights.[46]

 

Emerging standards and best practice:

The need for new standards to ensure that natural forest management benefits indigenous forest-dwellers is now recognised. The International Tropical Timber Organisation in its ‘Guidelines for the Sustainable Management of Natural Tropical Forests’ encourages the adoption of World Bank and ILO standards on indigenous peoples.[47] Recognition of indigenous tenure and participation is also enjoined by the Intergovernmental Panel on Forests.[48]  Principles 2 and 3 of the Forest Stewardship Council are explicit on the need to recognise indigenous peoples’ legal and customary rights and for them to be legally established. According to the FSC, logging should only go ahead on indigenous peoples’ lands with their consent. The World Bank/WWF Alliance has accepted these principles in its promotion of forest certification.

 

In its ‘Criteria and Indicators Toolbox series’, CIFOR has established a basic set of criteria necessary for the maintenance of the well-being of forest-dwellers in logging areas. These include:

 

·        The establishment of clear ownership and use rights, including the recognition of the pre-existing rights of forest-dwellers

·        Acceptable mechanisms for sharing benefits, including between generations

·        Clear communications between timber companies and local communities

·        Adequate measures to ensure sound health and nutrition.[49]

 

All these standard-setting processes agree that securing customary rights is a necessary first step in ensuring socially sustainable forest management.

 

One of the few examples of standard-setting for forest management that has been strongly  endorsed by indigenous peoples are those established by the Forest Stewardship Council in Sweden. In this case, specific provisions were agreed by all the main stakeholders - except small-forest owners – to recognise the Saami’s customary rights even though these had never been adequately recognised in Swedish law. The agreed standards thus allow the winter-grazing by pastoral reindeer-herding Saami people in forest areas. The Saami’s herds make use of lowland forests every winter as part of their transhumant grazing cycle and in harsh winters, when the deer cannot break through thick snow crusts, require old growth forest with pendent lichens to survive. The industrial-scale logging companies and the government have thus agreed to allow Saami access to forests in winter and to set aside 10% of forest concession areas for old-growth to provide areas for reindeer survival in harsh winters. However, the FSC process in Sweden has not been an unblemished success story. Small-scale private land-owners who own up to 50% of Sweden’s forests, have unfortunately rejected the FSC standards and have adopted an aggressive approach to the Saami, suing them in the courts for continuing their ‘illegal’ access to forests. Saami communities, unable to provide the documentary evidence of their customary practices that the courts demand, now face bankruptcy as punitive court costs are exhausting their financial resources.[50]

 

Since the 1980s, there has been a dramatic growth in participatory forestry management approaches, a field which has attracted a great deal of donor support from NGOs and government development agencies. In general, the more successful schemes have been those where local communities, including indigenous peoples, have been given rights to use and manage forests for subsistence purposes or to reforest degraded areas for the sale of harvests in local markets.  With some notable exceptions, indigenous experiments with the community-management of natural forests for the production of industrial roundwood have been less successful, owing to lack of capital, inadequate training, overharvesting, poor quality control and difficulties with marketing.[51] In countries where indigenous land rights are fully recognised, indigenous peoples have nevertheless sometimes suffered serious problems by allowing logging on their lands. A number of factors explain these experiences including: agreements negotiated through bribery or under duress; imprecisions in the law which allow indigenous elites or factions to permit logging against the interests of the wider community; lack of alternative means of income generation; community divisions; ignorance of the likely impacts of timber harvesting.[52]

 

Prospects:

Given the experience of indigenous peoples with logging to date, there are obvious misgivings about a new ‘global vision’ in which further intensification plays a part. The evidence is that most current large-scale logging operations on indigenous lands are not compatible with the well-being of indigenous peoples and violate their internationally agreed rights. Even where their rights are recognised and mechanisms are in place to ensure that operations only go ahead with their free and informed consent, the imbalance in power between the villages and timber operators often results in long term costs being born by communities for relatively modest short-term gains.

 

Important difficulties also remain to be resolved to ensure that certification processes really do secure advantages for indigenous peoples. For example, when the Forest Stewardship Council was first set up, there were hopes that the certification process would favour community-based forest management initiatives which were run by indigenous peoples on their own lands. However, as it turns out, the high overheads of managing forests to certifiable standards favour economies of scale. Few small-scale operations have the skills, or can afford the technical inputs required, to develop and implement well-documented forest management systems. Even where they can, the additional costs of independent certification itself are daunting. The combination of these obstacles and the target-driven approach of the process’ main sponsors, who seek the certification of as large a hectarage as possible in the shortest possible time, has meant that less than 10% of FSC certified forests are community-managed. Concerns have been expressed that FSC certification far from promoting community-based forest management may actually be squeezing it out of the market-place as it fails to compete with large-scale, certified forestry.

 

Even more worrying for indigenous peoples is the proliferation of competing certification schemes which have much lower standards than the FSC. For example, indigenous peoples from Sarawak were recently forced to withdraw from the national timber certification scheme in Malaysia because measures were not contemplated to ensure recognition of their rights in the establishment of forest reserves. The fact that the World Bank has avoided stating unequivocally which certification process it plans to support in the realisation of its targets, sharpens concerns that indigenous peoples concerns may once more get sidelined.[53]

 

 

Indigenous Peoples and Plantations:

 

The experience of indigenous peoples:

Not surprisingly, industrial-scale tree plantations established on indigenous peoples’ lands have caused them serious problems. A cursory review of the literature reveals the following problems:

 

·         Indigenous peoples’ rights to land may be permanently extinguished

·         Habitat loss undermines traditional livelihoods

·         Inadequate compensation is provided for loss of lands and livelihoods

·         Resulting landlessness may cause migration to shanties or to forest frontiers

·         The establishment of estates may transform hydrological cycles, meaning loss of drinking water, bathing and fishing

·         Water supplies are polluted with effluents from plantations and processing works

·         In the tropics, changes in disease ecology lead to rising incidences of malaria, dengue, scrub typhus, leishmaniasis and filariasis.

 

Where indigenous peoples are accepted into the workforce of the plantations, either as labourers or small-holders in out-grower schemes, they often find that conditions are poor, wages are low and workers’ rights are denied. Promised land titles, marketing facilities and services are slow to appear, while repayments from workers and small-holders for housing and start-up costs are demanded immediately. Conditions of ‘debt-slavery’ sometimes result. Adjusting to life on the estates may be difficult: working regimes do not fit customary labour patterns and life-styles; division of communities into nucleated households disrupts traditional social networks and rituals. Many have problems handling money, spend cash imprudently or are easily cheated.

 

Indigenous women and the elderly are especially affected. Traditional subsistence and social support networks are undermined but not replaced with viable alternatives. Compensation, when paid, for alienated lands, though customarily held communally or by both men and women, is handed over to men. Where communities are incorporated into estates, small-holder titles are provided to male heads of households, not females. Employment opportunities for women are fewer and wages are lower.[54]

 

Regrettably, as Stephen Bass of the IIED has noted, despite the prevalence of these problems, many plantation developers still ignore them.[55]

 

Emerging standards and best practice:

The growing criticism of plantations by NGOs, due to their negative social and environmental impacts, has led to a number of standard-setting exercises aimed at elaborating acceptable means by which the negative impacts can be mitigated or eliminated. Following intense controversy over the plans of Shell to establish extensive Eucalyptus plantations on peasant lands in NE Thailand, Shell and the WWF engaged in a joint exercise with the explicit aims of highlighting the need for tree plantations while producing guidelines for their responsible planning and management. While the guidelines make little reference to indigenous peoples, they do seek to address the concerns of local communities in general. The guidelines stress the need for:

 

·         Participatory rural appraisal methods to assess local realities

·         Special attention to the resolution of potential conflicts over land tenure

·