The more I follow environmental discussions, the more I find myself feeling sorry for Sandro Chetcuti. Before you roll up your eyes in disbelief, let me start by pointing out that Chetcuti seems to want to play the victim. His contributions to a discussion often start with a complaint - that his 'NGO' is not being heard, that he is unwell, and during the PN's IdeAmbjent convention, he unwittingly gave us another reason to feel sorry for him.
Chetcuti seems to think that women and men are destined to be at loggerheads. Now I don't know anything about his domestic situation, but if that is his experience of the opposite sex, then I cannot help but feel compassion for him. I might be an idealist, but I like to believe that some of the marriages I see around me are harmonious. To Chetcuti, on the other hand, the very idea of a mutually beneficial relationship, where the man and woman mostly get along well, seems alien.
What has all this got to do with the environment? The analogy was Chetcuti's to start with; he claimed that the economy and environment are like man and woman, opposed by nature, and with conflicting interests. The best we can do, in his view, is to find a compromise between them.
Now, it is true that romantic love often ends in a compromise where nobody is really happy. Yet, if we can stretch our imagination, perhaps we can envisage a relationship which serves the interests of both man and woman. Perhaps the economy and the environment can also have a 'happy marriage,' and its offspring might be that third pillar of sustainability, a society of healthy, well-adjusted and fulfilled individuals.
A key difference is that one of the partners in this marriage - the environment - cannot be compromised with at all. Nature cannot modify its response to be kinder towards us, simply because it does not act with intention. If nature is like a woman then she is more like the punitive Indian goddess Kali than an all-forgiving, intercessory mother. This, I'm afraid, is the only partner we can marry our economy to, and it is up to us to steer our activities in such a way as to make them compatible with her.
The whole point of the workshop we were attending, 'Environmental Economy and Innovation', was precisely to find a way forward in this very project. Among the proposals made were several ideas for introducing agritourism and eco-tourism to the country.
The very next day we heard of such a project proposed for Munxar. Except that this project includes offices, accommodation, a beach pontoon, a swimming pool, a beauty and therapy salon, a fitness centre, an activity hall, a restaurant, and a conference centre. Clearly, it is not the natural beauty of Munxar that is being marketed here, and neither its agricultural, ecological or scientific value either. What is being proposed, rather, seems more like common-place tourist facilities on virgin land.
The area, in fact, lies next to a designated national park; it is protected for its high landscape value and scientific interest. To return to our analogy, building all these facilities in Munxar is the equivalent of marrying a woman for her beauty and rich dowry and then reducing her to a poorly-kept slave. The point of 'agro'- and eco-tourism is not to attract as many tourists as possible to a new area, which can only result in its degradation, but to attract a few select tourists who can appreciate its value and are willing to pay a premium for it. Those who would visit Munxar for its swimming pool or conference centre cannot be described as agri-tourists.
To bring out the difference in approach proposed by some of those attending the conference, one can compare the cases of Nepal and Bhutan. While Nepal busied itself attracting as many backpackers and trekkers as possible, its neighbour Bhutan limits tourism by charging a $250 visa fee per person, per day. Now, while I am not suggesting that we should emulate this small Himalayan kingdom in every way, the example serves to bring out the different mind-set that is needed. While Nepal today has problems of deforestation, water shortages and pollution, Bhutan has mostly kept its forest cover and the quality of its water and air. The idea, then, is not to bring more ordinary tourists, but to bring some who are willing to pay to see places that have been spared 'development.'
For a successful marriage between the economy and environment, the authorities ought, at the very least, to remember their 'vows,' in particular those stated in SPED 3.1 and reiterated through a Parliamentary Communication addressed to Front Harsien ODZ on 15th June 2015: "In preparing policies, plans and programmes, the use of vacant land outside development zones is to be considered only when no other feasible alternatives exist, in a sequential manner after firstly seeking reuse of existing developed land and buildings through change of use, to redevelop existing developed land and buildings, and to develop areas within development zones."
That is, development on ODZ must be the very last option to be considered and SPED makes it amply clear that this is only for projects of national importance.
I do not need to list the various alternatives that might be found for this project in Munxar; everybody knows about the illegal or abandoned structures in the area. Add this to the other projects being proposed on ODZ without any serious consideration of alternatives - Zonqor, the possibility of a racetrack in Siggiewi - and it is not hard to see that those driving the economy have turned it into a lying, cheating spouse.
The marriage between the economy and the environment cannot end in divorce. There is no way we can extricate our economic activities from nature; rather, they are utterly bound up with it. This is the point I think Sandro Chetcuti and his associates need to understand. It is not, as he suggested, that we can only afford to protect our environment when the economy is strong enough. Rather, we cannot afford not to protect it; our very economy, as well as our health and well-being, depend on the integrity and health of our natural systems.
Colette Sciberras