Most quake-hit countries suffer from slow recovery

By John Gittings and David Pallister

LONDON: Countries that have suffered some of the world's worst disasters have learnt a hard lesson: that, invariably, after the horrors of rising death tolls, the fear of epidemics and the mobilization of international relief, the slow process of reconstruction fades from the news.

Yet the aftermath of disaster has in many cases lingered: five years after an earthquake devastated the Armenian town of Leninakan in December 1988, killing at least 25,000, the surviving inhabitants were still living in boxes amid the rubble.

Much of the international aid, including 4 million pounds donated by the British public (US$6.4 million), never reached the two million victims because the country was embroiled in an armed conflict with Azerbaijan.

The two Armenian shockwaves, five minutes apart, were about the same strength as the one in Colombia but the damage was compounded by the collapse of many new buildings. Critics blamed shoddy construction, bribery and bureaucratic ineptitude during the Brezhnev era.

But in some countries, efforts have been made to implement new warning systems and to build more resistant homes.

The survivors of the 1976 Tangshan earthquake in northern China, for example, acquired a brand new, modern city. According to official estimates, 248,000 of the population of one million were killed and 160,000 injured. Some observers believe the real figure was higher. The earthquake, measuring 7.8 on the Richter scale, leveled most of the city. Some of the casualties were below ground, in Tangshan's coal fields.

Now, there is a far more intensive system of earthquake prediction throughout China: as well as traditional indicators -- such as disturbed animal behavior -- the system uses infra-red data from satellites to spot anomalous increases in temperature.

Most importantly, all such information is promptly reported to a national center. Scientists were aware in 1976 of the possibility of an earthquake, but amid the chaotic politics of the Cultural Revolution, the information was not passed on to Tangshan. One nearby county which did take precautions only suffered one death out of a population of 47,000.

Tangshan has been completely rebuilt with above-average housing, providing about 10 square yards (11.9 sq meters) of living space for each inhabitant. An unusually efficient social welfare system was set up to deal with the high number of orphans and disabled.

Key buildings in the main cities of north China have been strengthened and all new construction in Beijing must withstand tremors up to 8.0.

It was on the same fault line, between the Arabian and Eurasian plates, that two quakes -- the first 7.7 on the Richter scale -- hit north-west Iran in June 1990. More than 40,000 died in the scores of mountain towns and villages that were flattened.

Despite the difficult terrain, the Iranian authorities' swift response was considered an object lesson in disaster planning, with 100,000 volunteers and 10,000 Red Crescent workers in the area within 48 hours. Remarkably there was no health crisis and the refugee tents were swiftly replaced with insulated aluminum sheds.

With more than 1,000 substantial quakes a year, Japan has done more than most countries to prepare for earthquakes in the design and construction of buildings. But the 7.2 quake that hit the crowded industrial city of Kobe in January 1995 proved that technology alone cannot prevent cataclysmic damage: the death toll was 5,300, the worst since the Tokyo earthquake of 1923 claimed 100,000 lives.

Stunned by the scale of the damage, the Japanese government took a week to declare the port city a disaster zone. At first there were delays in restoring the water supplies and the official responsible committed suicide by throwing himself from a fourth floor window.

The Kobe authorities estimated that it would take five years to build 80,000 houses and apartments for the refugees. But a year later -- with 1,000 people still living in tents -- the town won an international award for the speed with which it got back to business. But it was not enough for the deputy mayor, who doused himself in kerosene and burnt himself to death. Earlier he had claimed that the central government had made rebuilding more difficult.

-- Guardian News Service