A cruel irony of nature

A cruel irony of nature

After the fall of Soeharto the petty surveillance of green
activists vanished.

Suryo Prawiroatmodjo won a prestigious Swiss award for his
work, was nominated to join Caretakers of the Environment
International and became a world figure in the conservation
movement.

Within the decade PPLH Seloliman had about 50 workers and was
functioning beyond his most ambitious dreams. Here was
sustainable agriculture thriving in the soil, not books.

Then tragedy struck. In 1999 Suryo was diagnosed with Crohn's
disease, a chronic, incurable and debilitating inflammation of
the gastrointestinal tract.

He has undergone three operations and lost a major part of his
bowel. Sometimes he has to use crutches. The cause of the disease
is unknown. It may be genetic but, ironically, it can
also be caused by chemicals in the environment.

It crippled him physically and spiritually as he had to
withdraw from PPLH Seloliman.

"At the time I was very angry with God," said Suryo, a
follower of Kebatinan, the traditional religion of Java. "I was
caring for nature -- but why had nature made me ill? I tend to
be superstitious and always believed I was being guided in my
work for the environment.

"Crohn's disease altered everything, but I reflected on the
change in my life. I began meditation. Control of PPLH passed on
to a new generation of young conservationists. That might not
have happened had I stayed well.

"Now I'm almost 50. I write and run workshops when the disease
is in remission. I grow trees, but the environment is more than
planting trees.

"I want people to understand the importance and
interconnectedness of wildlife, nature, clean air and water, and
unpolluted soil. We must understand and care for the land."

Savagely underscoring his message was the death of almost 50
villagers near Seloliman in landslides following flash floods
last year. Trees on the upper slopes of the mountain had been
felled; there was nothing to break the rush of mud that exhumed
boulders and ripped out roots to crash on houses in the valleys
below.

In a weird twist, the deforestation only came about after the
end of the New Order government. "Before that time, people were
afraid to cut trees down," said Suryo. "They never knew when the
military might come and start shooting if they entered the
forest.

"With democracy they reasoned that it the government could
give large companies licences to plunder the timber, then it was
now the turn of 'little people' to get their share of the
wealth."

Suryo's fears appear to be well-based; about 40 per cent of
the exports through Surabaya's container terminal are timber
products, yet there are few forest replanting programs under way.

Spin-offs from Suryo's unending campaign include a
postgraduate program in environmental education at Surabaya State
University, which is said to be the first of its kind in
Indonesia.

Widespread land rehabilitation programs and the establishment
of the national Environmental Educators' Network are also among
his credits.

When he's fit enough he shows government officials, teachers
and developers how to preserve the environment, recycle rubbish
and make compost fertiliser. Unlike many educated Indonesians, he
is not afraid to get his hands dirty.

Yet, despite the real successes Suryo has been damaged, and
not just by the physical pain. "It is difficult to persuade
people that they can have a better quality of life through
changing their traditional way of doing things," he said.

"New problems are now arising for Indonesia. Water quality has
to be addressed. Apart from pollution we have rising salt levels
in groundwater.

"Then there's the human factor, which takes its toll. It has
not always been easy for some people to overcome their jealousy.
I still believe, though, in education as the source for a better
future." -- Duncan Graham