In one of my travels, I saw a cluster of trees near the ridge of a bald mountain and a strange idea came to my mind. If only this mountain was on a computer screen, I thought, I could copy the green spot and paste it to the brown spaces. This thought led my mind to a series of questions. Why can’t this one patch of trees be spread to the entire mountain? If one family can rehabilitate a portion of the mountain, why can’t others do the same?
I started to think about my own experiences working with upland farmers, particularly those who live in or near grass-mantled mountains. The story of Socias Valentin is the one I like best.
I came to know Socias five years ago while I was working on a government project in Maasin Watershed in the province of Iloilo, on the island of Panay, which is roughly in the middle of the archipelago. Socias lived with his wife and 2 grandchildren in a village adjacent to the watershed. His children have their own families and they all lived in the same village. Socias was about 60 years old when we first met. I remember him as jolly man who looked a little like an Eskimo.
Socias once farmed inside the watershed area, even though his own land was outside it. Then the government banned all forms of human activity in the Maasin Watershed, to protect the water supply of Iloilo City, the provincial capital . Many farmers were caught and penalized but inadequate income from their own farms forced them to keep coming back. They cut trees to plant crops and make charcoal. They let their work animals graze freely in the area, which resulted in tree damage and soil compaction. They even burned the area during summer so that when the rain came there would be succulent grass shoots to feed their animals.
Experts call this a “tragedy of the commons.” But really, the problem was the failure of the government to enforce the rules, combined with the desperation of the nearby farmers. In the mid-1980s, the situation became intolerable. The watershed forest was regressing rapidly to grassland and the water-holding capacity of the watershed was severely affected. Flash floods during the rainy season and low water volume in the dam during the dry months were common occurrences.
The microclimate changed, wildlife declined, and farm production declined along with it. Finally the government had to relocate farmers who had settled permanently in the watershed. It imprisoned those caught cutting trees, grazing or cultivating there. These actions were harsh but necessary. The watershed is the source of drinking water for about half a million people in Iloilo City. It provides irrigation to about 5,000 hectares (over 12,000 acres) of rice fields in the surrounding plains.
The severe shortage of drinking water in the mid-1990s triggered a clamor for the government to act. It took more than 5 years and 50 million pesos (about $1 million dollars) in official development assistance from another country to start a comprehensive watershed rehabilitation project. The national Department of Environment and Natural Resources led the project, and local governments, non-government organizations and people’s organizations all played a part.
It started wisely with a community-based approach. Villagers formed themselves into a people’s organization and contracted to do the maintenance and protection work. Socias was assigned a plantation block in the area that he once farmed. Like the other participants, he was paid for this work. What made him different was the dedication and inventiveness he brought to this effort to protect the forest commons.
Socias planted bananas between rows of forest trees. He planted fruit trees to replace dead forest stands using seedlings from his own backyard. He took care of the trees sown naturally by birds and other agents of seed dispersal. Members of his family took turns guarding the plantation, especially during summer when the area is susceptible to grass fires. They also found ways to conserve water within the plantation as a precaution against fire and to wet young plants during the dry season.
After 2 years, Socias’ block had survived the threats of grassland fires, stray animals and other man-made damage. It passed the standard for a healthy plantation. During that same time, some of his peers were still trying to replace dead trees while others had slid back to square one. I asked Socias about the formula for his success and he was eager to share his ideas. In summary they were as follows:
Payback. Socias believes that he should be partly responsible for rehabilitating the portion of the watershed that he once farmed and harmed.
Benefit Sharing. The prospect of income and table food from banana and fruit trees is enough to fuel his commitment. He also felt good knowing that people downstream would enjoy the social and environmental benefits of a functional watershed.
Visible Stake. Socias planted bananas for two reasons. The first is that these trees provide ready tools, in the form of fronds and stems, with which to fight grass fires. Second, and more important, local people would not dare graze their animals in his plantation lest they harm the bananas and incur the ire of the Valentin family.
That raises a question that I once put to Socias, “Who do you think should be the rightful owner of this plantation block that your family toiled for years to maintain?” He answered in a Solomonic fashion.
“The public as well as my family own the plantation,” he said. “The public owns the roots and the water that it conserves. It also owns the tree crowns and the cool climate that these create. The fruits and other produce are owned by my family and our descendants.” In other words, common ownership combined with individual stewardship and beneficial use.
For practical purposes Socias suggested that the plantation be named “Forest of the Valentin Family” as a deterrent to potential intruders. I agree fully. Giving the forest a name is a good strategy for restoring the commons. In fact, the project adopted a “caretaker” scheme based on the experience of Socias Valentin. Maasin Watershed is now one of our country’s learning sites for watershed rehabilitation.