Whir of chain saws goes on in East Kalimantan rain forests
By Charlie Pye-Smith
TARAKAN, East Kalimantan (JP): You can't hear the chain saws in Tarakan harbor, but their handiwork is plain to see.
Vast quantities of round logs, felled in the rain forests of East Kalimantan, await shipment to Malaysia and elsewhere. Not long ago most of the timber here came from large-scale concessions to the west of Malinau, a frontier town over 100 kilometers upstream from Tarakan. But an increasing quantity now comes from small-scale logging permits.
The idea of communities and district governments having greater control over the forests may be admirable, but research undertaken by the Bogor-based Center for International Forestry Research (CIFOR) suggests that these logging permits, though individually small, could lead to a massive loss of forest.
"The problem is likely to accelerate and worsen," warned social scientist Lini Wollenberg, who is working with Dayak communities in one of Borneo's last great expanses of lowland forest.
Wollenberg believes that the difficulties of law enforcement, and the large profits to be made from clear-cutting, mean that district governments and many communities are ignoring the long- term implications of forest destruction. They need the income, but can they afford to lose the forests?
For centuries the rain forests of East Kalimantan have provided the Dayaks with almost all their needs, and for many the sole source of income still comes from collecting eaglewood, a much-prized incense.
"We don't want the forests to disappear," said Emang Mering, subdistrict leader of Pulau Sapi, a village on a tributary of the Malinau River. "We depend on them for hunting and many other things."
But he swiftly added that everyone in the village wanted to raise their standard of living. Recently, a logging company offered Rp 200 million for the right to clear-cut 3,000 hectares of forest. The community accepted. They will lose part of their forest, but the financial gains -- for some -- will be considerable.
As part of the move toward regional autonomy, Indonesia's district leaders can now grant IPPKs, permits for the exploitation of the forest, and an array of other permits to fell timber on land claimed by local communities.
Indeed, they are under considerable pressure to generate new sources of revenue as allocations from the national government are being severely curtailed under the new autonomy laws. The speed with which the permits are being granted is astonishing. So far 28 permits, covering some 30,000 hectares, have been granted in Malinau district alone since April 2000.
Although communities are supposed to file requests for IPPKs with the regent, who acts as the district leader, it seems to be the investors, mostly logging companies seeking new sources of timber, who are driving the process. In return for the right to fell timber they offer a package deal. Sometimes they contribute toward the construction of a public building. They generally promise to hire villagers during the felling operations.
And they always agree to pay a royalty, on average Rp 15,000 to 40,000/m3. The districts also receive an area-based fee of Rp 200,000/ha and a volume-based royalty of Rp 15,000/m3.
"These fees represent a very small fraction of the commercial value of the timber downstream," says CIFOR policy scientist Chris Barr, who is researching the impact of decentralization in Malinau district. In East Kalimantan red meranti and other dipterocarp trees are selling for around Rp 500,000 to Rp 600,000/m3, a relatively low price by historic standards.
Profits
In Malaysia, where much of the timber from Malinau goes, log prices are assumed to be higher. Of course, the investors must pay to log and transport the timber, and they must provide what are euphemistically termed "informal payments" to local officials, but they still make handsome profits.
Analysis of existing IPPKs in Malinau suggests that the fees are going to a relatively small number of people, often just to village leaders and favored individuals whose names are assigned to each 100-hectare block. According to Wollenberg, there is frequently no consultation process, and villagers are often unaware of the deals made by their leaders.
"All the same," she conceded, "many people believe that any benefits, however small, are an improvement on the past, when they received almost nothing from large-scale timber concessions."
However, selective logging, as was prescribed by forestry concessions known by their Indonesian acronym HPH, often leaves large areas of standing forest, which provides hunting grounds, food and other products.
With IPPKs, the forests are completely razed.
Investors often promise to replant logged areas with crops like rattan, pepper and coffee, but many people fear that little or no replanting will happen.
A recent study of saw mills in three districts in East Kalimantan found that nearly all were operating illegally, either because they lacked permits, or because they relied on illegal logging. Many of the companies which supply them have now taken advantage of the IPPK system.
"Prior to this," said researcher Krystof Obidzinski, "most logging companies were operating illegally. Now, not only do the IPPKs provide them with a new source of timber, they also legitimize their operations."
Barr believes that the IPPKs are enabling companies to bring heavy machinery into the area, something they would have found hard to justify before. Between April and October 2000, the number of timber-extracting machines in Malinau district doubled to over 400.
"Most of it is being shipped in by Malaysian investors, and industry officials in the region have reported that the volume is far in excess of what they need to log the areas thus far allocated under IPPK permits," Barr said.
Political patronage
During Soeharto's New Order period, the central government used timber concessions as a form of political patronage. The indications are that a similar process is now taking place at the district level.
"Local officials, if they want to retain power, need the backing of the business elites, who are often involved in logging," Barr said. In return for permits, officials secure the support they need to stay in office.
This goes some way toward explaining why many districts are interpreting the laws so broadly and granting IPPKs -- in effect, clear-cutting permits -- for areas the central government has designated as permanent forest estate, intended either for total protection or rotational felling. This has already brought investors into conflict with the state forestry enterprise, Inhutani II.
There are also growing signs of tension in Malinau district.
In Setarap, villagers mounted a protest when the investor failed to employ them, as had been promised. In Adiu, they halted work as the investor failed to make an up-front payment. A company which had an agreement with one village carved its access road through the old swidden fields of another, destroying fruits and timber trees. And communities which have refused to cooperate with investors have reportedly been subjected to intimidation.
In the meantime, the chain saws keep whirring.
Wollenberg believes there is an urgent need to raise local awareness about the threats to the forests, and the fact that most of the financial gains are accruing to relatively few people. In Pulau Sapi, Emang Mering agrees that villagers need to think of the long-term consequences of felling forests.
"But it's hard when people are being offered big lumps of money," he added.
CIFOR scientists also suggest that districts, together with the communities and technical agencies, need to determine in a transparent way exactly where the permanent forests estate should be. They also advocate that logging companies should be required to lodge a bond as a guarantee that they will pay the correct fees and replant logged areas.
For these measures to work, policymakers need to reexamine, and agree on, appropriate roles and responsibilities among district, provincial and national agencies. "Otherwise, decentralization may accelerate the loss of Indonesia's forests," Wollenberg said.
The writer is a consultant science writer at CIFOR.