OneWorld.net's take: "Today we measure the early waves of rising sea refugees in the thousands," writes environmental expert Janet Larsen, "but unless we can quickly check the rise in greenhouse gas emissions, we may one day measure them in the millions." And no place on Earth can accomodate that much displacement, she warns.
Flooding in Haiti following Hurricane Gustav. Nearly 1 million people were affected by four back-to-back hurricanes that pummeled the island nation this August and September. © Peter Casier (flickr)Because a hostile
climate made successful economic growth efforts more costly in
developing countries, the cost of achieving the global
anti-poverty and healthcare Millenium Development Goals might be $100 billion more than
expected, said the former advisor to the British Government
on the economics of climate change and development, Lord Nicholas Stern.
Some world leaders are taking action to stem rising global temperatures. Just last week, Indonesian ministers and provincial leaders agreed to protect and restore the remaining ecosystems of Sumatra, a hotspot of biodiversity that has lost nearly 50 percent of its natural forest cover in the last 20 years.
From: Earth Policy Institute
October 9, 2008
Janet Larsen
Standing
before the United Nations General Assembly in October 1987, Maumoon
Abdul Gayoom, President of the Maldives, made an appeal representing
“an endangered nation.” That year for the first time, “unusual high
waves” in the Indian Ocean inundated a quarter of the urban area on the
capital island of Male’, flooded farms, and washed away reclaimed land.
Gayoom cited scientific evidence that human activities were releasing
greenhouse gases that warm the planet, ultimately raising global sea
level as glaciers melt and warmer water expands. The trouble extended
beyond small islands; studies showed that rising seas would wreak havoc
on the U.S. Gulf Coast, the Netherlands, and the river deltas of Egypt
and Bangladesh.
Fast-forward through two decades of swelling seas and more powerful
storms and the call has moved from the need to study global warming to
the necessity of dramatic action to stabilize climate. With small
island nations in peril, these days President Gayoom evokes the vision
of a United Nations where “name plates are gone; seats are empty.” He
does not speak alone: this fall, some 50 countries, including a number
of small island nations along with Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and
the European Union, are planning to put a resolution before the U.N.
General Assembly requesting that the U.N. Security Council address “the
threat posed by climate change to international peace and security.” As
Ambassador Stuart Beck of Palau has asked, “Would any nation facing an
invading army not do the same?”
Without a dramatic reduction in emissions of greenhouse gases like
carbon dioxide, the global average temperature is projected to increase
by up to 12 degrees Fahrenheit (6.4 degrees Celsius) and sea level
could rise some 3 feet (1 meter) by the end of this century.
Alarmingly, recent accelerated melting on the Greenland and West
Antarctic ice sheets—which together contain enough ice to raise global
sea level by 39 feet—means that seas could rise even faster than
predicted.
The warming of the globe also provides more energy to fuel stronger
storms. More-powerful storms can combine with even a modest rise in sea
level in a dangerous synergy, allowing for ever larger storm surges
that can flatten coastal communities. Because much of humanity,
including many residents of the world’s major cities like Kolkata
(Calcutta), London, Shanghai, and Washington, DC, are located in
vulnerable coastal areas, hundreds of millions of people are directly
at risk. A large part of the New York metropolitan area is less than 15
feet above sea level; a Category-3 hurricane could easily swamp a third
of lower Manhattan.
All together, one out of every 10 people on the planet lives in a
coastal zone less than 33 feet above sea level. If higher seas and
extreme weather render these areas uninhabitable, more than 630 million
people could be left searching for safer ground. Yet no place in the
world is equipped to deal with mass population movements or can
accommodate millions of climate refugees. Fragile countries already
stretched to their limits could be pushed past the breaking point into
complete state failure. As British Foreign Secretary Margaret Beckett
warned the U.N. Security Council, the risk of massive economic
disruption and “migration on an unprecedented scale” make climate
change a true security threat.
Already the exodus has begun. On Vanuatu’s Tegua island in the South
Pacific, a coastal village of 100 people has been relocated inland as
erosion and rising seas raised the underground water table, flooding
dwellings and overflowing pit toilets. Papua New Guinea’s Carteret
Islands, with maximum elevation 5 feet above sea level, are set to
transplant their 2,000 residents, 10 families at a time, to
Bougainville Island, a four-hour boat ride away. The Maldives and
Kiribati, both under siege by the inland creep of the tides, have plans
to move people from the more vulnerable small islands to larger islands.
Beyond small islands, river deltas are particularly at risk. Category-3
Cyclone Nargis made this clear when it hit Burma’s Ayeyarwady Delta in
May 2008. The storm brought fierce winds and a 12-foot storm surge that
killed 135,000 people and damaged 9,000 square miles (23,500 square
kilometers), including over 60 percent of the country’s rice fields.
More than 2 million people felt the impact; five months after the
event, close to half of them were still relying on food aid.
Viet Nam is directly exposed to sea level rise, with some 18 million
people—one fifth of the population—living in the susceptible Mekong
Delta. The production of more than half the country’s rice and most of
its fish and shrimp depends on seasonal flooding in this area; the
risk, however, is that higher seas could alter the regular flooding
regime, expanding the area inundated with salty water and rendering
cropland unusable. A 3-foot rise in sea level would cover close to half
the delta’s land area. Since 2000, when the worst flooding in at least
two generations raised the Mekong waters more than 16 feet, the
Vietnamese government has embarked on a program to resettle at least
33,000 families out of the most flood-prone areas.
For Egypt’s Nile Delta, a 3-foot rise in sea level could displace close
to 8 million people and flood 12 percent of the country’s agricultural
area. Natural barriers to the encroaching sea are being lost because
the Aswan Dam blocks sediment deposits that otherwise would sustain the
delta. Salty ocean water already makes its way onto farmland, hampering
wheat production. Concrete barriers line the harbor of the ancient city
of Alexandria, but they cannot always keep the waves at bay.
Higher seas could also prove disastrous for densely populated
Bangladesh’s 161 million residents, many of whom already suffer from
annual flooding. A 3-foot sea level rise would submerge close to half
the country’s rice fields and displace tens of millions of people.
India has built a fence on the border with Bangladesh to stave off
illegal migration, but if the rise of the ocean is not stopped,
concrete and barbed wire are unlikely to prevent the flows of climate
migrants.
While small islands and low-lying developing countries seem the likely
first fronts for environmental evacuation, industrial countries are not
immune. Hurricane Katrina, which hit the already-subsiding Louisiana
coast in late August 2005 with heavy winds and a 28-foot storm surge,
forced the evacuation of close to 1 million residents of New Orleans
and the surrounding area. Of those who left, more than 200,000 never
returned. They took up permanent residence elsewhere, becoming the
first major wave of U.S. climate refugees.
Following Katrina, a $125 billion disaster, major U.S. population
centers have largely dodged the bullet of tropical storms. In September
2008, Hurricane Gustav urged the temporary evacuation of New Orleans
before it changed course and softened its blow. Hurricane Ike, a storm
remarkable in size and wind speed, fortunately weakened before making
U.S. landfall, but still ravaged Galveston, Texas. The two storms
arrived after tearing through Cuba (long a paragon of evacuation and
return), damaging more than 440,000 homes and temporarily displacing
more than 1 million people.
With climate change fueling stronger storms and taking them outside of
their traditional zones and seasons, people face the difficult choice
of rebuilding or moving to safer territory. In the United States, while
more and more people are moving to vulnerable coastal areas, insurance
companies are retreating, unwilling to pick up the hefty tab of future
weather devastation.
If we allow global warming to spiral out of control, at what point
could disaster fatigue completely overwhelm financial and social
systems? Today we measure the early waves of rising sea refugees in the
thousands, but unless we can quickly check the rise in greenhouse gas
emissions, we may one day measure them in the millions.