By Lova Rabary-Rakotondravony
ANTANANARIVO, May 19 2011 (IPS)

The transitional authorities in Madagascar are struggling to overcome the problem of illegal logging of precious wood. In spite of an April 2010 decree that prohibits the logging, transporting, trading and export of precious woods, felling in the forests is still continuing.

Processing of illegal rosewood near Antalaha, Madagascar. Credit: Erik Patel/Wikicommons

In mid-April, the heads of the police force of Antalaha, a town on the northeastern coast of Madagascar – the area most affected by the phenomenon – seized 30 tonnes of rosewood being transported in two trucks.

But this is far from the only place where trafficking in illegal timber is taking place on this island, which has the biggest rosewood reserves in the world. A few days earlier, three other trucks transporting 115 rosewood logs, were intercepted in Tolagnaro, in the southeast. Before the raid, more than 1,000 pieces of another kind of precious rosewood found in Malagasy forests, were seized in the same region.

In Mahajanga in the northwest, more than 250 containers full of rosewood destined for export have been held at the port since December 2010. Most of this wood comes from Mampikony, an area situated about 250 kilometres southeast of Mahajanga, Ndranto Razakamanarina, a forestry engineer and president of the Voahary Gasy alliance, an umbrella body of civil society organisations working for the protection of the environment, told IPS.

“If no further exports have been officially recorded since the adoption of the decree, in 2009 [when the Malagasy political crisis started] and in the first quarter of 2010, more than 2,600 containers left Malagasy ports: illegal operations are continuing,” said Razakamanarina.

“The logging does not only impact in the northeast, but is spread across the whole country, particularly in the southeast and northwest,” he added. “The poachers continue their illegal activities, hoping to sell their products when timber sales are authorised again.”

Bernard Rakotondrainibe, assistant director general of Madagascar National Parks, says the problem is under control in certain areas, due to the involvement of communities at the grassroots level, such as in Marojejy or Masoala, for example, forests in the east that are on UNESCO’s World Heritage Danger List. “This is not the case in other regions,” he explains to IPS.

Monitoring stretched thin

At Antalaha, the police force complains of a lack of resources for surveillance. “For a district that covers more than 400 kilometres of forest, there are only 70 monitors,” one police officer told IPS.

The officer also referred to the inadequate legal provisions adding to the difficulty of policing Madgascar’s forests.”We could do better, considering the number of people holding onto the stocks of precious wood, but as the retention of stock is not prohibited in itself, we have to make do with tracking of those involved in transporting or trying to trade [proscribed wood],” he explains.

Another member of the Voahary Gasy alliance, a forester who spoke to IPS on condition of anonymity, points out without the right to take direct action against those illegally harvesting wood, citizens have to go in search of a judicial authority when they encounter poachers. “In the meantime, the poachers have time to escape.”

“Furthermore, some forestry agents are afraid of reprisals and threats,” says Razakamanarina. “[Since 2009] three forestry stations have been set on fire,” namely, in Antalaha, Fenoarivo Atsinanana (in the north-east), and at Ambositra, in the south of the central highlands.

The loopholes in the law have also been exploited by timber operators in the forest region of Boeny, in the Mampikony district and the Mahajanga region, to get authorisation to recover 250 containers being held at the port.

“The ruling only prohibits the export of raw timber, whereas ours has been worked into a finished product,” Liva Rakotojaobelina, president of the group of exporters of Boeny timber, insisted to the press.

But there’s a kind of deadlock between timber operators and customs officials over the definition of the term “finished products”. In terms of the four-sided planed pieces and the slats (horizontal pieces of wood) with pointed tips, the director-general of customs, Vola Dieudonné Razafindramiandra, reasserts that shipping them out is prohibited because these are not end-products, but timber that is still likely to be further worked.

“We need to wait to find out the real quantity of precious wood that we are holding, before deciding what we are going to do with it,” says environmental minister General Herilanto Raveloharison, adding that as long as the decree remains in force, no trade, in whatever form, may take place.

Raveloharison has called on different local authorities to step up the struggle to prevent the trafficking of precious wood.

The justice minister, Christine Razanamahasoa, met with public prosecutors from all jurisdictions of the country to give reinforce instructions to resolutely prosecute trafficking of rosewood.

“Now more than ever,” says Razakamanarina, “the government must show its will to fight this phenomenon if it wants the support of the international community.”

Since the beginning of the political crisis in 2009, Madagascar’s foreign development partners have suspended most of the aid that was earmarked for the preservation of the environment.

Excerpt:

“We’re calling on all citizens,” said Riovoarilala Rakotondrabe, putting the final touches on a giant poster announcing a massive community clean-up for the coming Sunday.

Open drains in Ankorondrano-Andranomahery. Credit: Lova Rabary-Rakotondravony/IPS

“Since we are in the midst of the rainy season, the city administration has recommended that each fokontany [the basic administrative unit at the neighbourhood level in Madagascar] should carry out collective cleaning,” she said. Rakotondrabe is local head of the association charged with maintaining water infrastructure, hygiene and sanitation.

The clean-up was to include sweeping of streets and alleyways, clearing of bush, and collection of garbage strewn all over the neighbourhood, as well as to clear the gutters and storm drains that pass through the area.

Situated on the Antananarivo flats, Ankorondrano-Andranomahery is one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the Malagasy capital. Part of a large industrial zone, the neighbourhood presents striking contrasts. Adjacent to large, modern buildings housing various businesses are many houses built of old wooden crates and other salvaged materials.

“Many of these do not have latrines, obliging some residents, especially children, to defecate anywhere,” says Rakotondrabe.

The gutters and storm drains here are open and local residents and passersby alike throw garbage into them. “These open channels constitute a real danger to public health,” Rakotondrabe explains. “During the rainy season, they tend to overflow because clearing them is difficult due to the garbage blocking the channels.”

The RF2 which Rakotondrabe heads – the acronym stands for Rafitra Fikojana ny Rano sy ny Fahadiovana – is a community group set up to take charge of hygiene and sanitation. The idea is that revenue from local water user associations will cover the cost of paying local labour to clear drainage and sanitation in the fokontany as well as people to go around the neighbourhood to raise awareness of hygiene.

“But, for lack of means, we are making do with paying day labourers once a month, and when the circumstances call for it, we make additional collective efforts.”

No one was paid for the clean-up on the recent Sunday. Cleaning up, says Rakotondrabe, “is a civic obligation and those who don’t participate must pay a fine.”

Miakatra Rakotobe, in charge of community water points in the neighbourhood, explained to IPS that “the lack of financial resources is due to the fact that the Ankorondrano-Andranomahery RF2 has not yet been formally established. The entities which should disburse money for the functioning of the organisation are hesitating to pay their contribution. If the association was officially registered, it would have no trouble with financing.”

In the case of Ankorondrano-Andranomahery, Rakotobe told IPS that all of these contributors are ready to invest in the project.

“The six water user associations who manage the water facilities (a public wash house and five water points) are enthusiastic,” he said. “You can see this from the 5,000 ariary (2.50 dollars) which each of them has added to the price of drinking water sold to users, which they have already committed towards the functioning of RF2.”

The many businesses in the neighbourhood are equally prepared to put up money for the RF2. “But due to internal conflicts in the heart of the fokontany, we are hesitant to ask them to pay their part,” says Rakotobe. “It’s a conflict that we are trying to resolve quickly if we want to go forward.”

The RF2 model is succeeding in Ankazomanga Atsimo, another of the other seven neighbourhoods where it has been piloted.

“Ankazomanga Atsimo is a success because those in charge have been able to mobilise all residents around the project,” says the city’s Razanakombana. “While in Ankorondranao-Andranomahery, the political differences between the local leaders has been an obstacle, the residents of Ankazomanga has passed this stage.”

While the new system beds in, the 9,000 residents of Ankorondrano-Andranomahery must still rely on the efforts of non-governmental organisations to manage the sewers and canals of the neighbourhood. “Fortunately, the NGOs are reliant on labour-intensive methods and work-for-food programmes to help with the upkeep of our infrastructure,” says Rakotondrabe.

The illegal logging of precious wood rose sharply during the political crisis that gripped Madagascar during 2009. Forest communities, who could be part of the preservation of these resources, have been swept up in the rush for rosewood.

Children searching for firewood in the forest near Manompana, on the east coast of Madagascar. Credit: Lova Rabary-Rakotondravony/IPS

Rosewood, or Dalbergia baroni, is a very valuable hardwood, in great demand worldwide. Along with related species from Latin America and Asia, it has been over-exploited, and is a protected species in Madgascar.

Sipping a beer in a bar in the rural district of Manompana, is a strapping 30-year-old who today is going by the name “Christian”. It is 200 kilometres from the port city of Toamasina, through which much of Madagascar’s exports of wood pass. When one of his associates introduces a potential client for precious wood, he welcomes her with a broad smile.

“I can get you any quantity of wood you want,” he tells the woman. “I’ll discuss it with my loggers.”

Christian doesn’t personally go into the forest.

“I pay locals to cut down trees,” he says.

“People shut their eyes to certain illegalities, especially when the wood leaves the country with proper papers, provided by the local authorities in exchange for a few large bills,” he says.

“The local population has only the forest to rely on, and in exchange for the wood that they find for me, I give them the means to survive and provide for their families’ needs.”

Charles Rakotondrainibe, deputy director general of Madagascar’s National Parks service, says these are difficult times for conservation.

“If illegal logging goes on every year, in 2009 it saw exceptional growth, which has been catastrophic for the forests,” says Rakotondrainibe.

“Because of poverty – aggravated by the political crisis – and tempted by the easy money offered for illegal logging, communities could do little other than go with the flow and participate in the pillage of the forests to extract rosewood.”

He says the political crisis of 2009, which saw Marc Ravalomanana deposed as president by a populist movement headed by Andriy Ravoelina early in the year, reversed progress made since the putting in place of a national environemntal policy in the 1990s.

The situation is especially bad in the national parks of Masoala, Marojejy and Makira, in the northeast of the country, particularly known for rosewood.

To counter this, environmental NGOs are trying to involve forest communities in conservation.

“The transfer of management (of forests) is aimed at getting the local population to take charge against the illegal exploitation of the forest, as well as to sensitise them to the effects of their daily activities on the environment,” says Etienne Andriamampandry.

He is head of programmes at the Association Intercoopération de Madagascar, a non-profit organisation working on collective solutions to poverty alleviation. AIM’s efforts cover issues of local government, access to basic services, local economies and food security – forest management cuts across many of these themes.

Charline Toto, a member of a like-minded association in Manompana called “Ensemble pour la gestion de la forêt” (Together for the Management of the Forest) has learned the lessons well. Recognising the importance of forest resources in the daily lives of locals, she also appreciates how trees must be protected.

“Only wood found in the exploitable zones can be cut down and used for our daily needs, such as for the construction of houses and canoes, or to cook food,” she explains.

“But in the conservation zones, the forest must be protected because it ensures the balance of the environment and gives shelter to animal and plant species that are only found in Madagascar.”

But for every Charline Toto there are too many others willing to work for the young men with big wallets like Christian.

Raktondrainibe says the problem is compounded by the frequent corruption of local officials who authorise the shipment of timber.

“The continued uncertainty in the running of the country has led people believe there’s no longer any law and they can do what was forbidden,” adds Rakotondrainibe. “The publication of a an interministerial order allowing the exceptional export of precious woods has only made the situation worse.”

For Ndranto Razakamanarina, president of the Madagascar’s association of foresters, this order, issued in January by the government of former president Ravalomanana, is “completely illegal and completely contrary to the charter on the environment and the legislation on forests which forbids the export of precious wood.”

“It was meant to permit the release of (existing) stocks of rosewood which had been blocked from export for many years, but illegal logging syndicates have taken advantage by cutting down new timber,” he told IPS in an interview. “Worse, the validity of the order, which was to have expired at the end of March, was extended until the end of November by the transitional authorities.”

According to a report published by the Missouri Botanical Garden, a U.S-based research institution, more than 1,200 containers of rosewood left via the ports of Vohémar and Toamasina in the east of the island between January and October 2009. The report says these containers would hold about 120,000 logs – equivalent to the cutting down of some 60,000 rosewood trees.

“But, as the illegal loggers don’t follow regulation techniques, the extraction of each rosewood means the cutting down of half a dozen trees of other species in order to make rafts (to float them down rivers out of the deep forest),” explains Razakamanarina.

The depradations in protected forests in the northeast of the island has created an international outrcy, but it has also awakened the national conscience in Madagascar.

“Faced with the rapid degradation of the environment in 2009, we have gathered NGOs and associations working for the defence of the environment into an alliance that wants to see a better environmental governance,” indicated Razakamanarina.

(*This article is part of a series on sustainable development produce by IPS – Inter Press Service – and IFEJ, the international Federation of Environmental Journalists.)