The serious business of tree hugging

Back in 2001, infamous tough politician from Sinn Fein, Gerry Adams, admitted that he liked hugging trees. At the time, he noted: “Hugging trees has a calming affect on me. I’m talking about enormous trees that will be there when we are all dead and gone.”

This week, I was amusingly accused of being a tree hugger after I circulated a petition to save a forest in Northern Ireland known as the Prehen woodland.

By global standards, this forest is minuscule. The remaining tract of forest in Prehen, just outside Derry, covers 18.5 acres, compared to the 1.7-billion acres of the Amazon forest basin.

But this small forest is also unique. It is an ancient woodland with trees dating back to the 1600s and is one of the few ancient woodlands left on the island of Ireland. One of the last colonies of indigenous red squirrels lives in the forest and it offers local people a green area on the edge of the city.

Nonetheless, the local government and planners still allow continued encroachment on the forest, giving developers licence to chop down ageless trees to build luxury homes. The developers then have the gall to advertise the new homes as located in a forest setting.

The savagery the officials have allowed on this tiny forest over the years is disgraceful, but is also part of a bigger global problem.

Prehen Ancient Woodland

Forests cover about 30% of the world’s land area. But deforestation continues at an alarming rate. Logging, mining, housing and the planting of crops for grazing, besides other practices, destroy 4 500 acres of forest worldwide every hour, according to the United Nations. It is estimated that 18-million acres of the world’s forests is lost each year.

Experts estimate that, within 40 years, the last remaining rainforests could be consumed. This will have a devastating effect on the global climate and the 1.6- billion people who rely on forest products for all or part of their livelihoods.

Yet those who fight to roll back this destruction, like veteran local Prehen campaigner George McLaughlin, are generally dismissed as troublemakers by the planning authorities while, globally, corporations and governments turn a blind eye for a quick buck or financial support for their next election campaign.

Given the gargantuan annihilation of trees around the planet, should I, or anyone for that matter, care about the Prehen woodland in Northern Ireland?

Of course, we should. We need to challenge the human delusions I have seen in relation to forest annihilation. When it comes to vast forests like the Amazon, we are tricked into thinking they are too big to be completely wiped out. When it comes to small forests like the Prehen woodland, we think they are too insignificant to matter.

However, not caring about the Prehen woodland, or any other, is like saying the extinction of a specific species of insect is not important because there are lots of other insects in the world. But, like an extinct species, once this ancient woodland is gone, you cannot grow it back.

Adams claims he likes hugging trees because he knows they will be there long after he is gone. Well, in this case, he might be wrong.

When will the authorities in Northern Ireland wake up to the reality staring them in the face? Or will they continue to sell their resources to the highest bidder for some short-term gain, just like many others worldwide?

Given the record of government and the planners in relation to the Prehen woodland and internationally, there is little prospect. But each day I hope, just as my financial adviser is prone to say, past performance is not always an indicator of future performance and, perhaps, someone with the power to stop the wanton destruction of forests like the Prehen woodland will stand up and have the courage to say: “No more.”

This article by Brandon Hamber was published on Polity and in the Engineering News on 19 March 2012 as part of the column "Look South". Copyright Brandon Hamber.

Is South Africa just one big vuvuzela?

There were moments of brilliance on the pitch during the 2010 World Cup, but it was what happened off the pitch that grabbed the most attention.

The media were obsessed with the presence of Diego Maradona as he minced about like a diminutive rotund action man squeezed into a suit against his will. The Jabulani ball and its tendency to balloon into the crowd when struck from a free kick (unless by Diego Forlan) also provided for hours of discussion. The cheating from players feigning injury to more serious incidents, such as the blatant handball by Uruguay to deny Ghana a place in the semifinal, also produced much chitchat.

However, the clear winner, when it came to off-the-pitch distraction, was the vuvuzela. For the entire tournament, pundits, fans and even those with no interest in football were talking about it. Everyone had an opinion on the noisy horn. There were Facebook petitions to have it banned as well as voracious calls for its recognition as the cultural symbol of African football and, hence, for its preservation.

Credit: flowcomm / CC BY

Since the end of the World Cup, debate has continued. Several English Premiership teams have banned the vuvuzela from their grounds. At Wimbledon, there was much anxiety that someone might sully the Centre Court with a long droning honk, and it was hastily outlawed. There is also now a dispute over who owns the vuvuzela from a commercial perspective. Several companies have tried to register the trademark. Masincedane Sports, which has been producing the instrument since 2001, reached a compensation deal with the Shembe Church, in South Africa, about ownership, even though the final decision is still pending on whether Masincedane owns the trademark. The church claims that it invented the instrument in 1910 with a view to using it in religious ceremonies. The vuvuzela is, apparently, useful in driving out demons.

Practically speaking, however, the vuvuzela really belongs to the people of South Africa, and now the world. UK supermarket giant Sainsbury’s is said to have sold over 50 000 vuvuzelas. You can even buy them from online global retailer Amazon. Perhaps the reason for its success is that, in many senses, the vuvuzela is a lot like South Africa.

The vuvuzela gets noticed. It draws attention to itself. It has touched the international imagination. Just like South Africa. This is in part a result of apartheid, which captured the global consciousness for decades. But the focus on South Africa is also a result of the fact that South Africans, seemingly, like to voice their concerns. Whether talking about the demise of apartheid, the Rainbow Nation, crime, HIV/Aids or the state of the economy, we like the world to know what is going on. This is partly about being located at the southern tip of Africa, which results in a need to feel connected globally.

But it is also likely that the desire to externalise issues is deeply cultural. It is, I believe, how we, as South Africans, solve problems. This tendency has helped South Africa to deal with many historical challenges. But it has also meant that we, as South Africans, can be as much to blame for the negative coverage of our country as the international media.

We have all met the South Africans abroad who are only too willing to enlighten people about what a terrible country it now is (often with a racial subtext implying ‘now that apartheid has ended’), leaving listeners determined never to go there.

So, while verbalising our problems helped us in the past, the question is: How can we talk about real problems like wealth disparity and the relative crime problem while communicating all that is positive about South Africa at the same time? This may seem like a complex challenge, but, if a simple plastic trumpet can signal joy, exhilaration, celebration, exuberance, unity, disappointment, dismay, and alarm, then, surely, so can we.

This article by Brandon Hamber was published on Polity and in the Engineering News on 20 August 2010 as part of the column "Look South". Copyright Brandon Hamber.