The Nation
Monday, September 23, 1996
Dancing around dinosaurs
After a decade of working with the Royal Forestry Department,
Belinda
Stewart-Cox reflects upon its centennial and its future.
I have heard the expression - ''dancing around the
dinosaurs" -
countless times in countless forms from colleagues
working in, or
with, the Royal Forestry Department (RFD). I have heard
it for years,
but never as often or as vehemently as now.
It indicates not only the (supposedly) ''Thai way"
of doing things but
an ever-growing frustration - a frustration now laced
with despair and
disdain - among those of the next generation who want
to conserve
Thailand's natural environment for Thailand's sake.
For them, indeed for anyone, to make progress in nature
conservation,
they must ''dance around the dinosaurs" of the RFD
and the political
puppet masters who control them. The RFD is, or is
supposed to be, the
caretaker of Thailand's natural land.
But the RFD cannot take care of Thailand's natural
land because it is
handicapped by its history.
The RFD was established a century ago to facilitate
and manage forest
logging. Its primary purpose was to exploit forest
reserves, not to
conserve them, though it was supposed to ensure the
long-term
viability of the logging concessions.
It failed miserably. Why? Because there was too much
emphasis on
making quick, easy money and too little concern for
the future.
As a result, vast tracts of forest disappeared until,
in the late
1950s, Dr Boonsong Lekagul (a medical man whose penchant
for hunting
led to a passion for wildlife) had the foresight to
persuade the
government of Field Marshal Sarit Thanarat to set aside
land for
nature conservation.
That gave rise to the national parks (intended for
nature education
and recreation), wildlife sanctuaries (for biodiversity
conservation
and research) and non-hunting areas (allowing some
extraction).
Because the RFD had jurisdiction over the wild land,
it also had
jurisdiction over the conservation areas in spite of
the fact that its
principal mandate was to log and its institutional
mentality was (and
still is) exploitative.
For years, no one questioned this anomalous arrangement.
There was
plenty of forest (or so it was thought) and conservation
was not
popular.
That changed in the 1980s when satellite maps showed
little forest was
left, when loggers, dam-builders and developers began
to covet the
conservation areas and people woke up to the fact that
Thailand faced
ecological ruin.
But the conservation division of the RFD still had
''about as much
status as the younger sons of a mia noi" (minor wife)
as one
exasperated official so memorably exclaimed. They were
dominated by
the timber-men in a system that revolved around money
and personal
gain.
Today they do have more status and the department is
structured
differently but the system that matters has not changed.
The
timber-men still dominate and money is now exacted
for promotions as
well as for timber and for land.
The current rate is said to be a Bt100,000 per junior
rank (ie,
Bt500,000 for C5) and Bt5 million to Bt50 million for
the lucrative
senior posts. Of course that must be reimbursed somehow
with the help
of biddable subordinates.
This penalises the people (the silent majority) who
refuse to play
this game, while favouring those who do. Hence the
dinosaurs and the
frustration. Merit is irrelevant. Money and age matter
more.
The dinosaurs are men who trained in old-fashioned
forestry some 20 to
30 years ago and do not understand, or care to learn,
the new
philosophy of conservation.
Their training was to utilise forest areas. Their practice
was
commercial and corrupt. No doubt most of them began
their work with
good intentions but quickly learned the cost of their
ideals. Moral
scruples were discouraged.
Predictably, these men now argue for the ''wise use"
of conservation
areas rather than ''wisdom management". The wisdom
is rhetorical,
their aim is economic.
They are looking to eco-tourism as the alternative
to timber.
Conservation, education and research (priorities of
wise management)
are secondary objectives used to make the package palatable.
The actions of the dinosaurs are governed, to some
extent, by the old
karachagarn attitude. They do not think of themselves
as public
servants or as guardians of the country's natural land.
They see
themselves as owners and tend to behave accordingly.
But unlike real
owners, they have no vested interest in the future
value of the
property. Why, you may wonder, do we strive so hard
to help the RFD do
a better job? Why have I, a foreign volunteer, spent
one quarter of my
life assisting nature conservation here, all of it
working with
members of that department?
Good question. Some say it is my fate. By some extraordinary
coincidence, I share my birthday with the RFD and with
the Seub
Nakhasathien Foundation. But I do not subscribe to
fate. I think my
reasons are more human and mundane.
Like my colleagues, I believe in nature conservation.
I believe in
what we do because I am sure that if we continue to
destroy our
environment at the present rate, we will bankrupt the
natural world
and a bankrupt nation will follow.
Worse, we will lose an essential part of ourselves,
a spiritual part
that derives from our origins in nature.
However, that does not explain why I have stayed here
so long,
unintentionally.
I think the reason is people. It so happens that some
of the finest
people I have known are here and they work, or used
to work, for the
RFD.
Seub Nakhasathien was one of them. A man who knew the
meaning of
public service and opted for death to avoid a compromised
life.
Another is Chatchawan Pisdamkhan, who followed Seub
as chief of Huay
Kha Khaeng and turned it into a model conservation
area only to be
sacrificed as a political pawn by his unprincipled
superiors.
A third is Jitpaphan Kritakom, better known as ''Mom",
a forest ranger
at Huay Kha Khaeng whose dedication and integrity would
shame those 10
times his rank if they had what it takes to feel shame.
And then, at last week's Flora of Thailand conference,
we remembered
the grand old man of Thai botany, Dr Tem Smitinand,
former director of
the Royal Forest Herbarium, who died in 1995.
Dr Tem revived the spirit of everyone who met him.
A generous, gentle
man, he was an exemplary public servant and a champion
of official
rectitude, proving that age itself does not corrupt.
It all depends on
attitude.
For every one of these people I could name five more.
Men and women,
most but not all under 50 years of age. Few of them
have the rank to
match their evident capability. Nor are they likely
get it within the
present system. The do not play the paying game.
Instead they dance around the dinosaurs doing the best
they can,
looking to us and others for help, hoping for better
days ahead.
It is sad to see such vital energy wasted in this way,
sad to see good
people struggle to do what the country needs, and sad
to see how
little they are valued by those who govern their future.
They have little faith in their superiors or their
system of
promotion, but we have faith in them.
That is why we think the time has come take conservation
(including
herbarium and wildlife research) out of the RFD and
create a
Department of Conservation under a Ministry of the
Environment,
recruiting staff on the basis of merit from every university
in the
land.
Only then will conservation get the leadership and
vision it deserves.
Belinda Stewart-Cox is a member of the governing committee
of the Seub
Nakhasathien Foundation.