It’s low tide and just after dawn on the Saemangeum tidal flats on the Yellow Sea coast of South Korea. The women from the village of Ganjae are heading out onto the flats to collect the shellfish that bury themselves in the mud to await the next high tide. They only have a few hours before the seven-metre tide reclaims the tidal flats. Traditional fishing has been like this for centuries and in their traditional clothing these shellfish collectors have a timeless quality about them. In the distance the first migratory birds of the season are arriving from Australia and their calls drift across the tidal flats. The Saemangeum is the refuelling stop where they regain their strength before continuing on to Siberia to breed. It’s mid-March and these birds are the vanguard of millions that will arrive along the international flyways from Australia and Southeast Asia.
The weather is cold, -4C. as I squeeze into the small cabin on the back of a tractor with a group of these unique woman for the half hour journey out onto the tidal flats. We can’t communicate but they are jovial and intrigued to have a photographer taking an interest in their lives.
That traditional lifestyle is about to come to a shuddering halt, not only for the human residents, but also and perhaps more tragically for the migratory birds, as they have no alternatives. As we travelled out onto the tidal flats, further out to sea through the early morning mist I could see some small islands that seemed to be connected by a feint horizon line. That line is one of the most ecologically disastrous and ill-conceived engineering projects in the world, the Saemangeum sea wall. The wall is a 33kilometre long buttress that will hold back the yellow sea and turn the Saemangeum into an industrial estate almost eight times larger than Sydney harbour. If the wall is completed the immediate effect will be the displacement of 15,000 fishermen and the deaths of vast numbers of migratory birds. It is conservatively estimated that Australia will lose 10% of its migratory wading bird population, with the possibility of some species becoming extinct. The Saemangeum is the last wetland area along the Korean peninsular; the others have already been reclaimed.
The shellfish collectors are returning with their catch and the tide is flowing through the two remaining gaps left in the wall to repossess the tidal flats. Back in town the women sort out their catch and sell it to a local dealer; each woman will average $40 for the physically demanding job of collecting shellfish. Today there are about 20 women lining up to sell their catch; two years ago there would have been 50 and the catch would have been larger.
In 1991 the South Korean government decided to reclaim 40,000 hectares of this environmentally crucial tidal wetland habitat to create farmland suitable for growing rice. The scheme was conceived in the late 1970s when the military government was intent on turning South Korea from a Third World agrarian economy to one of the three ‘Tiger’ economies of the region, the others being Japan and China. The Seoul government’s public relations people gave it a brand new name ‘saemangeum’ (in Korean ‘Sae’ means ‘new’, ‘man ‘comes from the Mankyong River and ‘geum’ from the Geum river). There are three rivers that currently empty into the Saemangeum. The next stage of the project will be to dam those rivers to supply fresh water for an expanding population and to be used in various industrial and manufacturing processes. The Seoul Government’s reasoning was that with about 30,000 hectares of prime farmland lost to creeping urbanisation each year, it needed to create more agricultural land. The irony is that since the mid 1990s the country has consistently recorded an annual rice surplus of nearly two million tons with existing agricultural precincts. However, in 1991 without any environmental impact study, construction began on the longest seawall in the world, 33kilometres of rock and concrete, creating the world’s largest reclamation project.
There has been intense international pressure on the South Korean government from a range of environmental lobby groups and governments.
"The reclamation of the Saemangeum wetlands, which are a critical feeding area for shorebirds along the East Asian-Australasian Flyway, will eliminate extremely important habitat for hundreds of thousands of birds, including threatened species such as the Spotted Greenshank, Spoon-billed Sandpiper and Saunders Gull."
- David Butcher, CEO WWF Australia, in a letter of protest delivered to the Korean Embassy in Canberra.
After a visit to the Saemangeum, Senator Bob Brown made an interesting statement. He said that when he sees a Korean car (Hyundai has a plant on reclaimed wetland) he sees ‘dead birds’ and is asking Australians to boycott Korean products. Senator Brown said: “The majority of Australians don’t know that the Korean government is about to remove maybe 10% of all the migratory bird species in Australia because they will fly to Korea and starve. The only counter to a massive proposal like this is international outrage. What corporations understand is money. Saemangeum is all about greed.”
Reclamation is not new to the area - the current wetland region is about half of what once existed. The Japanese initiated much of the early reclamation during their frequent invasions of the Korean peninsular. The area’s topography is perhaps its own worst enemy - already flat, in a country short of flat land, conversion to rice paddies was fairly straightforward. In the case of the Japanese reclamation, the Koreans farmed the new land, but the rice was taken to Japan and the Koreans starved.
Driving through these older areas it’s not difficult to recognise the reclamation, a sea of agricultural land with the odd hill to break the flatness, hills that were once islands surrounded by a resource-rich ocean.
The city of Kunsan is at the northern end of the Saemangeum and is built on some of the earliest reclaimed land. To the east of the city is the latest future industrial estate, kilometres of curb-lined four-lane roads, street lighting and, in a bizarre contribution to saving the environment a row of wind generators. It’s an environment waiting for the next generation of manufacturing companies to take up residence, but for now it is a flat windblown, sterile place devoid of structures, wildlife or people. Ironically, though, when you step off the manicured footpaths the ground is covered with seashells, remnants of what were once a vibrant eco-system and a tragic glimpse into the not so distant future of the Saemangeum. With the wall 97% complete there are only two small gaps left to fill. Of course completion of the wall only represents 30% of the entire reclamation project - dams, roads and infrastructure can’t begin until the wall is in place.
In February 2005 the environmental lobby scored an unexpected but tenuous victory when a Korean court decided that the Saemangeum reclamation was illegitimate (is illegitimate the right word here?) and should be suspended, because under Korean law the end-use (originally agricultural) of a reclamation project cannot be changed. Also, drawing on the expert opinions of NGOs and concerned academics, the court ruled that water in the proposed huge reclamation reservoirs (yet to be built) would be of too low quality for agricultural use - rendering the project's meaning illegitimate and the costs required to clean it up far in excess of those claimed by the government.
The Government’s reaction was predictable. Two days later The Korean Times reported that: “The government said Sunday it has decided to appeal the Seoul Administration Court's ruling on Friday to cancel or alter the original plan for the Saemangeum reclamation project, signalling a legal battle that may take several years.”
During a media briefing, Lee Myung-Soo, vice minister of the Agriculture and Forestry Ministry, which is responsible for the $2.2 billion development venture, said it can take on board opinions from environmental groups, but the project will be carried out as planned.
In response the environmental groups have said they will file a separate petition in the Korean Supreme Court for suspension of the construction.
The Korean environmental lobby has the formidable task of continuing to rally support from a general population that is largely oblivious to the issues surrounding the Saemangeum project. To maintain pressure on the Government a 13-day protest march from the Saemangeum to Seoul was organised. The group consisted of a range of concerned people including environmentalists and a strong fishing industry contingent, and Buddhist monks who performed a ”three steps and pray” protest for the 350kilometres to Seoul. The group also handed out leaflets and carried traditional carved wooden totems that were later placed on the tidal flats close to the beginning of the wall.
The government is also well aware of the value of PR. At the same end of the wall a continuous stream of buses bring inquisitive Koreans to a multi-million dollar centre that promotes the project. Inside there are telescopes to view the actual construction as well as dioramas and endless statistics extolling the virtues of the project and the lifestyle that it offers. On nearly every wall there are idealised murals of golf courses, resorts, seabirds winging over golden beaches and happy children splashing in clean clear water. However, there is no explanation of where these birds or the beaches would fit into an industrial estate.
Naturally not everyone is bedazzled by this exercise in propaganda.
"A sign at the Saemangeum Reclamation project says that there is a balance between development and wildlife here. I used to believe this, but it is a lie. We have been deceived. I have seen for myself thousands of birds feeding on these vast tidal-flats, but they are being destroyed - the birds will die. This makes me very sad - as a Korean, and as a human being."
- Kim Sukyung, Birds Korea co-founder, Saemangeum reclamation site, October 2001
I visited the centre with Nial Moores a Korean-based English environmentalist and co-founder of Birds Korea, a major force in the battle to save the Saemangeum. He is also an internationally-acknowledged expert on migratory birds and the Saemangeum.
Nial is a passionate advocate in the defence of the area and is devoted to stopping the project. As we walked around the centre, a place he, “hates with a passion”, Nial cynically commented that the species of birds shown in the dioramas don’t actually visit the Saemangeum.
When I first saw the Saemangeum my impression was that it was just mud. I left understanding the importance of that mud and its ecological ramifications. Towards the end of my stay Nial and I were at the mouth of the Mankyong River where it empties into the Saemangeum. He pointed to a large flock of birds on the tidal flats. “They’ve just arrived from your country, non stop across the Pacific. Look how emaciated they are, only the strongest make it and they don’t have the strength to go any further.”
If the wall is finally completed the Saemangeum will initially become a 40,000 hectare mass of rotting dead marine creatures and organisms. When the birds arrive on their migration and find nothing to eat there will be a stench that will reach all the way back to Australia.
In 2006 the wall did close and by 2008 it was a mass of rotting daed marine creatures and organisms, however Australia has ignored the Saemangeum!
Text and Images by Charles J. Page
Acknowledgements;
Nial Moores and Birds Korea for their assistance with this project.
Griffith University, Queensland
The weather is cold, -4C. as I squeeze into the small cabin on the back of a tractor with a group of these unique woman for the half hour journey out onto the tidal flats. We can’t communicate but they are jovial and intrigued to have a photographer taking an interest in their lives.
That traditional lifestyle is about to come to a shuddering halt, not only for the human residents, but also and perhaps more tragically for the migratory birds, as they have no alternatives. As we travelled out onto the tidal flats, further out to sea through the early morning mist I could see some small islands that seemed to be connected by a feint horizon line. That line is one of the most ecologically disastrous and ill-conceived engineering projects in the world, the Saemangeum sea wall. The wall is a 33kilometre long buttress that will hold back the yellow sea and turn the Saemangeum into an industrial estate almost eight times larger than Sydney harbour. If the wall is completed the immediate effect will be the displacement of 15,000 fishermen and the deaths of vast numbers of migratory birds. It is conservatively estimated that Australia will lose 10% of its migratory wading bird population, with the possibility of some species becoming extinct. The Saemangeum is the last wetland area along the Korean peninsular; the others have already been reclaimed.
The shellfish collectors are returning with their catch and the tide is flowing through the two remaining gaps left in the wall to repossess the tidal flats. Back in town the women sort out their catch and sell it to a local dealer; each woman will average $40 for the physically demanding job of collecting shellfish. Today there are about 20 women lining up to sell their catch; two years ago there would have been 50 and the catch would have been larger.
In 1991 the South Korean government decided to reclaim 40,000 hectares of this environmentally crucial tidal wetland habitat to create farmland suitable for growing rice. The scheme was conceived in the late 1970s when the military government was intent on turning South Korea from a Third World agrarian economy to one of the three ‘Tiger’ economies of the region, the others being Japan and China. The Seoul government’s public relations people gave it a brand new name ‘saemangeum’ (in Korean ‘Sae’ means ‘new’, ‘man ‘comes from the Mankyong River and ‘geum’ from the Geum river). There are three rivers that currently empty into the Saemangeum. The next stage of the project will be to dam those rivers to supply fresh water for an expanding population and to be used in various industrial and manufacturing processes. The Seoul Government’s reasoning was that with about 30,000 hectares of prime farmland lost to creeping urbanisation each year, it needed to create more agricultural land. The irony is that since the mid 1990s the country has consistently recorded an annual rice surplus of nearly two million tons with existing agricultural precincts. However, in 1991 without any environmental impact study, construction began on the longest seawall in the world, 33kilometres of rock and concrete, creating the world’s largest reclamation project.
There has been intense international pressure on the South Korean government from a range of environmental lobby groups and governments.
"The reclamation of the Saemangeum wetlands, which are a critical feeding area for shorebirds along the East Asian-Australasian Flyway, will eliminate extremely important habitat for hundreds of thousands of birds, including threatened species such as the Spotted Greenshank, Spoon-billed Sandpiper and Saunders Gull."
- David Butcher, CEO WWF Australia, in a letter of protest delivered to the Korean Embassy in Canberra.
After a visit to the Saemangeum, Senator Bob Brown made an interesting statement. He said that when he sees a Korean car (Hyundai has a plant on reclaimed wetland) he sees ‘dead birds’ and is asking Australians to boycott Korean products. Senator Brown said: “The majority of Australians don’t know that the Korean government is about to remove maybe 10% of all the migratory bird species in Australia because they will fly to Korea and starve. The only counter to a massive proposal like this is international outrage. What corporations understand is money. Saemangeum is all about greed.”
Reclamation is not new to the area - the current wetland region is about half of what once existed. The Japanese initiated much of the early reclamation during their frequent invasions of the Korean peninsular. The area’s topography is perhaps its own worst enemy - already flat, in a country short of flat land, conversion to rice paddies was fairly straightforward. In the case of the Japanese reclamation, the Koreans farmed the new land, but the rice was taken to Japan and the Koreans starved.
Driving through these older areas it’s not difficult to recognise the reclamation, a sea of agricultural land with the odd hill to break the flatness, hills that were once islands surrounded by a resource-rich ocean.
The city of Kunsan is at the northern end of the Saemangeum and is built on some of the earliest reclaimed land. To the east of the city is the latest future industrial estate, kilometres of curb-lined four-lane roads, street lighting and, in a bizarre contribution to saving the environment a row of wind generators. It’s an environment waiting for the next generation of manufacturing companies to take up residence, but for now it is a flat windblown, sterile place devoid of structures, wildlife or people. Ironically, though, when you step off the manicured footpaths the ground is covered with seashells, remnants of what were once a vibrant eco-system and a tragic glimpse into the not so distant future of the Saemangeum. With the wall 97% complete there are only two small gaps left to fill. Of course completion of the wall only represents 30% of the entire reclamation project - dams, roads and infrastructure can’t begin until the wall is in place.
In February 2005 the environmental lobby scored an unexpected but tenuous victory when a Korean court decided that the Saemangeum reclamation was illegitimate (is illegitimate the right word here?) and should be suspended, because under Korean law the end-use (originally agricultural) of a reclamation project cannot be changed. Also, drawing on the expert opinions of NGOs and concerned academics, the court ruled that water in the proposed huge reclamation reservoirs (yet to be built) would be of too low quality for agricultural use - rendering the project's meaning illegitimate and the costs required to clean it up far in excess of those claimed by the government.
The Government’s reaction was predictable. Two days later The Korean Times reported that: “The government said Sunday it has decided to appeal the Seoul Administration Court's ruling on Friday to cancel or alter the original plan for the Saemangeum reclamation project, signalling a legal battle that may take several years.”
During a media briefing, Lee Myung-Soo, vice minister of the Agriculture and Forestry Ministry, which is responsible for the $2.2 billion development venture, said it can take on board opinions from environmental groups, but the project will be carried out as planned.
In response the environmental groups have said they will file a separate petition in the Korean Supreme Court for suspension of the construction.
The Korean environmental lobby has the formidable task of continuing to rally support from a general population that is largely oblivious to the issues surrounding the Saemangeum project. To maintain pressure on the Government a 13-day protest march from the Saemangeum to Seoul was organised. The group consisted of a range of concerned people including environmentalists and a strong fishing industry contingent, and Buddhist monks who performed a ”three steps and pray” protest for the 350kilometres to Seoul. The group also handed out leaflets and carried traditional carved wooden totems that were later placed on the tidal flats close to the beginning of the wall.
The government is also well aware of the value of PR. At the same end of the wall a continuous stream of buses bring inquisitive Koreans to a multi-million dollar centre that promotes the project. Inside there are telescopes to view the actual construction as well as dioramas and endless statistics extolling the virtues of the project and the lifestyle that it offers. On nearly every wall there are idealised murals of golf courses, resorts, seabirds winging over golden beaches and happy children splashing in clean clear water. However, there is no explanation of where these birds or the beaches would fit into an industrial estate.
Naturally not everyone is bedazzled by this exercise in propaganda.
"A sign at the Saemangeum Reclamation project says that there is a balance between development and wildlife here. I used to believe this, but it is a lie. We have been deceived. I have seen for myself thousands of birds feeding on these vast tidal-flats, but they are being destroyed - the birds will die. This makes me very sad - as a Korean, and as a human being."
- Kim Sukyung, Birds Korea co-founder, Saemangeum reclamation site, October 2001
I visited the centre with Nial Moores a Korean-based English environmentalist and co-founder of Birds Korea, a major force in the battle to save the Saemangeum. He is also an internationally-acknowledged expert on migratory birds and the Saemangeum.
Nial is a passionate advocate in the defence of the area and is devoted to stopping the project. As we walked around the centre, a place he, “hates with a passion”, Nial cynically commented that the species of birds shown in the dioramas don’t actually visit the Saemangeum.
When I first saw the Saemangeum my impression was that it was just mud. I left understanding the importance of that mud and its ecological ramifications. Towards the end of my stay Nial and I were at the mouth of the Mankyong River where it empties into the Saemangeum. He pointed to a large flock of birds on the tidal flats. “They’ve just arrived from your country, non stop across the Pacific. Look how emaciated they are, only the strongest make it and they don’t have the strength to go any further.”
If the wall is finally completed the Saemangeum will initially become a 40,000 hectare mass of rotting dead marine creatures and organisms. When the birds arrive on their migration and find nothing to eat there will be a stench that will reach all the way back to Australia.
In 2006 the wall did close and by 2008 it was a mass of rotting daed marine creatures and organisms, however Australia has ignored the Saemangeum!
Text and Images by Charles J. Page
Acknowledgements;
Nial Moores and Birds Korea for their assistance with this project.
Griffith University, Queensland
