Scientists have mapped the genome of China’s much-loved but endangered Tibetan antelope, able to gallop across high-altitude plains at high speed

Demand for shawls woven from the Tibetan antelope’s soft underfur has driven the species to the brink of extinction. (Image by ahsup)

High on the mountain steppes and semi-desert landscapes of the Tibetan Plateau, the Tibetan antelope, or chiru, roams majestically over its native habitat.

For non-native mammals such as humans, exploring the plateau can induce acute mountain sickness. But, according to a new study, the endangered Tibetan antelope – a cause celebre in China since the first-wave environmental campaigning of the 1990s – has evolved exceptional mechanisms to adapt to the inhospitable terrain.

Researchers have decoded the animal’s genome sequence, revealing evidence of genetic factors associated with the species’ ability to inhabit this harsh highland environment.

Scientists from Qinghai University, BGI and other institutions found that genes involved in metabolism allowed more efficient provision of energy in conditions of low partial pressure of oxygen in the Tibetan antelope than other plain-dwelling animals, enabling it to gallop across the plains at speeds of up to 50 miles per hour.

As well as shedding light on the chiru’s ability to live at the top of the world, the data may “also open a new way to understand the adaption of low partial pressure of oxygen in human activities,” said Qingle Cai, the project manager at BGI.

The researchers may also have discovered how the Tibetan antelope protects itself from the high levels of ultraviolet radiation to which it is continually exposed on the plateau. The genome-mapping study found that the animal boasts genes involved in DNA repair and the production of ATPase, both of which counter the effects of high-level exposure.

Altitude may not be a problem for the chiru – but humans are. Demand for shawls woven from its soft undercoat has driven the animal to the brink of extinction, with numbers falling from around 1 million 50 years ago to fewer than 150,000 today.

The Beijing-Lhasa railway has also cut off key migration routes traditionally used by the chiru, though the Chinese Academy of Sciences has said there is evidence the animals are getting used to the railway. Tunnels have been built to allow the animals to cross under the rail line, but these have inadvertently facilitated illegal poaching by improving human access to remote areas, according to WWF.

The Tibetan antelope has particular resonances for China’s green activists. A campaign to save the species was among the formative experiences of emerging environmental civil society in the 1990s, involving local communities, NGOs, students and journalists, among others. The struggle of a local group of volunteers – the Wild Yak Brigade – to protect the species against poachers attracted international attention and was later portrayed in the 2004 film Kekexili: Mountain Patrol.

A Tibetan antelope named Yingying was also chosen as one of the official mascots of the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing.

Tom Jamieson is an intern at chinadialogue

Forget, for the moment, the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets: what about all the other stuff? What kind of difference does the melting of glaciers in Scandinavia, or Alaska, or the Himalayas make to the ocean levels?

Alex Gardner of Clark University, Massachusetts, and 15 colleagues from the US, Canada and Europe decided to take a closer look: their answer is that shrinking glaciers lost 259 billion tonnes (259 gigatonnes) of mass in the form of meltwater every year between 2003and 2009, give or take 28 gigatonnes, and that this amounts to around 30% of observed sea level rise.

This is equal to the combined losses from the permanent ice sheets that blanket, in layers thousands of metres thick, the two vast land masses of Greenland and Antarctica.

The scientists report their findings in the journal Science. They used both measurements on the ground – necessarily selective – and measurements from orbiting satellites, which naturally give a bigger picture, but also a more imprecise one.

The satellites carried instruments specifically designed to study ice loss: one was called GRACE, short for gravity recovery and climate experiment, and the other was called ICEsat – an ice, cloud and land
elevation satellite. The first measured tiny changes in gravity as the ice melts away. The second used lasers to measure changes in height, and therefore volume.

The scientists also consulted an authoritative store of geographical data, the Randolph Glacier Inventory, which defines 19 glacier regions with a total area under flowing ice of 729,400 square kilometres. They chose the dates under study because for those six years, ICEsat and GRACE were both in orbit, and sending back data, and thus providing a record of both seasonal and overall ice loss during that time.

Long-term concern

The conclusion was that although the 300 most closely-observed glaciers, the ones that have caused the most alarm, are indeed losing mass at a disturbing rate, this is not the whole picture. The other
160,000 glaciers distributed across the planet are losing ice overall at a slower rate.

This sounds like relatively good news, considering that global anxiety about retreating glaciers was based mostly on direct measurements of famous or easy-to-observe ice flows. But the research confirms the big picture: that glaciers are in retreat almost everywhere.

And this spells problems in the long run everywhere: glaciers store winter water for summer irrigation, city water supplies and hydroelectric power. They keep rivers navigable, and they maintain mountain ecosystems.

If they shrink, that’s not good news for mountain creatures or the people, forests, plains and settlements downstream. The largest losses were from Arctic Canada, Alaska, coastal Greenland, the southern Andes and the high peaks of Asia. There was little loss from Antarctica’s glaciers.

This article was first published by the Climate News Network.

New research shows glaciers on Mount Everest have decreased by 13% over the past 50 years, while the snowline has shifted upward several hundred feet. Weather data reveals the larger Everest region has experienced warmer temperatures and less snowfall since the early 1990s.

The research was presented by member of the study team Sudeep Thakuri at the American Geophysical Union‘s meeting in Cancún, Mexico last week.

Man-made greenhouse gasses may be responsible for these changes, though a direct link has not yet been established, Thakuri cautioned in a statement released by the AGU.

Thakuri’s team used satellite imagery and topographic maps to track glacial movements, and used hydro-meteorological data from the Nepal Climate Observatory and Nepal’s Department of Hydrology to track temperature and precipitation changes.

Glacier loss will not only change the famous face of the world’s highest peak, it will have more serious consequences beyond the region: “The Himalayan glaciers and ice caps are considered a water tower for Asia since they store and supply water downstream during the dry season,” said Thakuri. “Downstream populations are dependent on the melt water for agriculture, drinking, and power production.

The findings come as no surprise to sherpas and members of the climbing community who have observed the changes from the ground for many years.  Climate change has made Mount Everest increasingly more dangerous to climb, say sherpas. Apa Sherpa, who holds the record for reaching the summit of Mount Everest more times than any other person;  ”The snow along the slopes had melted, exposing the bare rocks underneath, which made it very difficult for us to walk up the slope as there was no snow to dig our crampons into” he told AFP after his twentieth ascent.

Thakuri’s report follows research from 2012 that found the majority of the Tibetan plateau’s glaciers are shrinking rapidly. This study was based on 30 years of satellite and field measurement by China’s leading glaciologist Yao Tandong at the Chinese Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Tibetan Research.

In concrete terms, the two sides agreed in New Delhi on May 20 to extend their agreement by which China shares some hydrological data during the monsoon months and warns India every time there is a flood threat along any of their shared rivers. Such a warning saved inhabitants of two villages in 2008, while the absence of it killed over 100 Indians in 2000.

After meeting Li in the presence of a few aides on May 19 and then holding full delegation level talks on May 20, Singh said, “I also reiterated to Premier Li India’s concerns about the effects on lower riparians of activities in the upper reaches of our shared rivers. It would be useful for the mandate of our Expert Level Mechanism to be expanded to include information sharing on upstream development projects on these rivers. I am glad that we have agreed to expand cooperation on trans-border rivers. It would also be useful for India and China to collaborate on a better understanding of the stresses on our shared Himalayan ecosystem.”

Singh was referring to the three hydropower projects being built on the river in Tibet. China has said repeatedly that all three are run-of-the-river projects which will not impound any water, but photographs taken by Indian satellites are inconclusive, at least for one of the projects.

Addressing the media along with Singh in New Delhi’s historic Hyderabad House, Li said, “With regard to Indian concerns on rivers, we have shared information on trans-border rivers. We are ready to step up communication on water resources and environmental protection.” He did not elaborate, nor did the two premiers take questions from the media.

In their very first meeting on May 19, Singh had pushed the transboundary rivers issue, asking Li to ensure that the Chinese government share more than hydrological data. India is keen to get full information on Chinese plans on the Brahmaputra, because that impacts India’s plans on the river. “Trans-border rivers should unite, not divide us,” Singh told Li.

As Li admitted candidly, there are other thorny issues between the world’s two most populous nations – a disputed border that goes right across the Himalayas, and India’s growing trade deficit with China. The Chinese team reached New Delhi eager to ink agreements that will further open up the huge Indian market to Chinese goods. China is willing to provide concessions to Indian exporters in return, but Singh made it clear to Li that substantive trade agreements would depend on advances over shared rivers and the border.

The border dispute between China and India has flared up most recently, with each side blaming the other of setting up military posts within the no man’s land in Ladakh, at the western end of the Tibetan plateau. A tense three-week standoff has just been sorted out with difficulty, and Indian observers were angry because Singh described it as an “incident” rather than an “incursion” by Chinese soldiers.

The Indian prime minister’s choice of words was designed to defuse tension, and Li responded by saying that the border dispute was a “legacy of history” that would have to be sorted out through negotiations. Meanwhile, he said, “the two countries have worked to maintain tranquillity and peace in the border areas.” Li pushed for much more trans-border trade than happens now. Both sides recognise that to be one of the best ways to reduce tension.

The river issue is more complex, as both governments want to maximise the number of hydropower projects in the huge Brahmaputra basin that drains much of the eastern Himalayas. India has been very concerned that China will build more and more projects – including dams – on its stretch of the Brahmaputra and thus reduce the water available for hydropower in India. New Delhi has repeatedly sought more information from Beijing on its plans, but to no avail. It is not at all certain that the situation will improve after the May 20 summit.

As for the Expert Level Mechanism Singh talked about, a team of Indian hydrologists was in Beijing for days to prepare for Li’s visit, in the hope that a substantive agreement on sharing transboundary river waters could be signed during the summit. But it was made clear to them that such an agreement was not on the cards, as far as the Chinese government was concerned.

Reports from Beijing said the Chinese authorities were determined not discuss any major agreement on any river that originated in Tibet, because they were afraid it may impact the flow of water to the Yellow and Yangtze rivers, the two major rivers of China. Apart from India, seven countries are downstream of rivers that originate in Tibet, and Beijing has refused to have substantive agreements with any of them.

India is not asking for a substantive agreement on the Brahmaputra or any of the shared rivers, as New Delhi understands the futility of such a move. It is seeking more information than China has agreed to provide so far. Li did not make any new promise in this regard during the summit.

Neither side has had any substantive talks yet on the issue with Bangladesh, the lowermost riparian country. Nor have they discussed their plans with independent experts and the civil society. Twenty-six voluntary organisations in north-eastern India – where the Brahmaputra flows down from China – wrote a joint letter to Singh, Li and Bangladesh premier Sheikh Hasina on May 20, protesting the situation.

India and China did sign other important agreements on May 20 to safeguard the ecology of the Himalayas – the water tower that is crucial to both countries. The two countries will work together to preserve the ecology of the Kailash-Mansarovar area in Tibet – the headwaters of the Brahmaputra, the Indus and one of the major tributaries of the Ganga, apart from being one of the holiest pilgrimage spots for Hindus and Buddhists alike.

Widows in Punjab face a worrying future (Image by CGIAR Climate)

In the last 15 years, more than a quarter of a million Indian farmers and agricultural workers have taken their own lives. Suicide rates in many parts of the country are still rising, as overwhelming debt, compounded by a host of ecological, economic and social pressures, drives farmers to despair.

One of the areas in which this crisis has been pronounced is India’s northern state of Punjab; the birthplace of India’s Green Revolution in the 1960s.

This region is the focus of feminist and activist writer Ranjana Padhi’s new book Those Who Did Not Die. Padhi describes how debt, crop failures, rising cost of pesticides and other agricultural inputs, ill health, costly dowries and a lack of alternative livelihoods continue to pose severe challenges for peasant farmers and the fabric of their society. Women, in particular face a worrying future.

Adopting a unique approach that combines data analysis with personal stories, Padhi has explored this issue by interviewing 136 women in Malwa, one of Punjab’s worst affected regions. She tells chinadialogue about the drivers of her work and her findings.

Anna da Costa: Your book highlights the scale of the challenges that have been unfolding for Punjab’s farmers and their families since the mid-1980s. Are conditions getting worse?

Ranjana Padhi: Yes, definitely. A large number of peasants are moving out of farming as a sole source of income now, and those who were landless but also worked in agriculture are also finding it more difficult to find wage work. So whether people are landless, or whether they have some land, it’s becoming more difficult. Social distress in Punjab’s agricultural communities is continuing to worsen, as agriculture becomes too expensive while state subsidies diminish.

AdC: What led you to your focus on the plight of women specifically?

RP: Since the mid-80s when I began work with the feminist collective Saheli, I have seen time and again that the burden of our economic reforms so often falls on our working class, and particularly our women. The farmer suicides were no different, and this particular issue affected me very deeply. I wanted to connect my work on feminism with the farmer suicides, and I knew there were issues beyond the male farmers that needed unlocking. Once an idea gets into your head, doors open up on their own, and I began to get very interested in Punjab.

AdC: You describe how the “indebtedness spiral” in which so many farmers and their families get caught is driving landlessness. Could you explain this “spiral” a little more?

RP: This so-called “indebtedness spiral” is forcing farmers into deep distress, causing many to sell their land and move out of farming, if not take their lives. It’s driven by multiple factors. While the cost of agricultural inputs such as pesticides, seeds and fertilisers, continues to rise, farmers are receiving less for their produce. They also have rising health costs and many a time, significant dowries to manage. All of these factors contribute.

Those with slightly larger landholdings are still able to eke out an existence or invest in something else when they sell their land. But the majority of farmers, who are small, marginal or landless, can’t sustain themselves. In 1991, Punjab had 500,000 farmers and by 2001 there were 300,000. That means almost 200,000 moved out of farming in those areas in 10 years. The number would be much more now.

AdC: What do they do once they leave farming?

RP: Many resort to wage work, but there are social stigmas around this in Punjab and in many cases it’s also hard to find. Some set up small shops or rent out their land. But with so much unemployment, many are sliding into a sort of abyss. Drug addiction has reached very high levels for Punjab’s youth: almost 70%. There isn’t any acknowledgement from the state that there is a serious problem. These are the different sorts of ways that social upheaval is happening beyond the male farmer.

AdC: The psychological strain on women, particularly following a suicide, is clear from your book. Panic attacks, sleep disorders and depression all feature heavily. Why has this not received more attention?

RP: There’s a lot of stigma around mental health today, which means that we often underrate it. Should you approach the government with these kinds of concerns, you will receive little recognition of the issue as a problem, particularly with the toiling classes. But this is where the deepest wear and tear happens. The fragmentation of self that results from poverty is growing daily and continues to be unrecognised.

AdC: Your approach to reporting this crisis is to weave together personal stories with statistics. How did this affect your findings?

RP: There is nothing that can substitute sharing at an individual level what happens to a person’s dignity and pride in such conditions. For this reason personal stories were necessary to share the lived reality as experienced by women. It brings us closer to understanding the implications of agricultural collapse at a very personal level.

Having said this, it was very important to tell this story not only through personal accounts, but also through numbers, to show how many women have to stay at home instead of farming to care for the family after a suicide, how many had mental health problems following a suicide.

Fifty percent of the women I spoke to, for example, reported “feeling sad all day”. Putting this down in statistics can better convey these messages to government, agriculturalists and mainstream economists: to draw attention to some of the things not adequately quantified today.

AdC: With so much distress and fragmentation within Punjab’s farming communities, how likely are we to see riots and uprisings in the near future?

RP: It’s fairly inevitable not only in Punjab but across India’s states. There is growing unrest and we’re seeing many communities organising themselves to draw the state’s attention to what is happening. Whether it is factory workers, agricultural workers, fisher folk, forest-dwellers – people are asking for their due. This is only going to increase over time, because the state is exposing its inadequacies more and more in the current global economy. The economic system is providing so little support to agriculture now, as it has become completely commercialised.

AdC: You focus primarily on social issues, but there are clear ecological drivers associated with these challenges. What is the relationship between the two?

RP: The two are intimately connected. Many of the challenges I wrote about are the result of Punjab’s transition to cash crops and mechanised, intensive forms of farming. Punjab was never meant to be used to farm rice paddy. It was a dry, arid area where wheat was grown. The changes in farming practices have depleted the water table very badly, not to mention the soil quality and local biodiversity. Heavy pesticide use has also contaminated the water in a major way, causing terrible health problems. Vandana Shiva wrote about this a lot in [her book] “Violence of the Green Revolution”.

But these social problems have not just been about the transition in agricultural practices, but the economic policies that coupled it. There is too little support from the state to support not just those who own and farm land, but also those landless workers, most particularly the women who underlie these communities.

AdC: You propose a “revolution in our socio-economic order”. What does that look like?

RP: We need to begin with women stepping out, especially peasant and working class women. They need to formulate their demands not only within agriculture, but beyond it too; for the society they wish to see.

The current system with its neoliberal economic paradigm needs to be overthrown. It is based on the looting and exploitation of people’s labour and of natural resources. It is a system in which profit is maximised at the cost of labourers. This needs to be overturned radically.

We need a society that is more representative of the working class, where they have more say in how to run their own lives; [and people] don’t simply become the recipients of whatever is decided by those in power. It needs to be far more democratic, far more empowering for those who are underprivileged today.

The India-China border row in Ladakh has eclipsed unresolved water-sharing issues along the Brahmaputra. But for any agreement to work, it must involve the people who depend on the waters.

When India’s prime minister Manmohan Singh and China’s president Xi Jinping held their first meeting on the sidelines of the latest BRICS summit in Durban, the one specific item on Singh’s agenda was the need for a joint mechanism to look at China’s hydropower projects on the Brahmaputra, the river called the Yarlung Zangbo in China.

Clearly aware of the many fears these projects raise in India, Xi was quick to assure Singh that China was aware of its responsibilities towards lower riparian countries and that he would ask his officials to consider a joint mechanism.

The conversation has now been eclipsed by the row over Chinese soldiers building a structure 10 kilometres into what India considers its territory in Ladakh, near the western edge of the border between the two countries. Multiple meetings between military officials have failed to resolve the standoff at the disputed border, though both countries have so far been careful not to let the matter escalate.

Meanwhile, Manmohan Singh and India’s water resources minister Harish Rawat have repeated that the Chinese projects will not reduce water flow in the Brahmaputra, as they are run-of-the-river hydropower projects. But the Indian government’s own panel of experts has expressed worries the projects will reduce water flow in the Brahmaputra, especially in the lean season.

A few weeks before Singh’s meeting with Xi, the expert panel asked the government to intensify monitoring of construction projects by China on the Brahmaputra. It also expressed the fear that similar projects may come up at the “Great Bend” the Brahmaputra takes just before it flows from China to India.

Fears and old habits fester

Such fears are becoming more accentuated, but they are not new. Independent experts studying the Brahmaputra as well as other transboundary rivers around the world are now convinced that any agreement based on fears on what the upper riparian country may do can be a zero sum game at best. The entire way policymakers look at a river and a river basin must change, they argue.

Rohan D’Souza of New Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University says a river must be seen as a “collection of pulses, not a quantum of water flows.” Sociologists who study the people dependent on the river waters, ecologists who study fish and other forms of life in the river all say that the “hydrocracy” – the water bureaucracy  – that has dominated official discussions is like the blind person who touches an elephant’s tail and thinks he knows the entire animal.

Policymakers in both India and China defend their own projects in the Brahmaputra basin, saying they are run-of-river hydroelectricity generation projects that will not affect the total water flow – a part of the river is being diverted to run past electricity generating turbines, and then the water is going back to join the river.

But a river is not a uniform flow of water. It flows in pulses that change during the day and definitely during the year. For a dependable electricity supply, engineers have to smooth out the pulses and change them to suit power demand during the peak hours.

But the fish downstream need those pulses and any change affects them adversely, says Sangeeta Boruah of the University of Dibrugarh, on the banks of the Brahmaputra. Independent economists point out that this has a devastating effect on the fishermen downstream, an effect already being seen in the lower reaches of the Brahmaputra in Assam, as the first of India’s 168-odd projects in the upper reaches are being built.

Rivers are ecosystems not water pipes

The essential problem, say the independent researchers, is that the “hydrocracy” sees a river as a water pipe, whereas it is actually so much more, a complete living ecosystem. D’Souza says “rivers are full of muscle, skin and cartilage, which makes a definite case against pure engineering solutions. The transaction cost between megawatts and protein must be computed.” Traditionally, fish has been the main source of protein for people in this and many other parts of the world.

These arguments appear incomprehensible to the majority of hydrologists, power engineers and policymakers. For them, the silt carried in river water is a major nuisance that breaks turbine blades and should be filtered out. For farmers downstream, this silt provides fresh soil. For the fish, it carries their food. Neither has entered official cost-benefit calculations in China, India or any other country. After long agitation by NGOs, the Indian government has now agreed to keep parts of the water flow unaffected as “environmental flows”, but on average that is no more than 20% of the flow.

Independent experts say the only thing that will work is a paradigm shift in how a river is viewed. “Treat the Brahmaputra as a heritage integral to cultures and identities,” says D’Souza. “It’s a civilizational question. Negotiations between two governments will not work because they deal with only a part of the river. What we need are debates and discussions about civilization, heritage, and lived knowledge in the entire river basin.”

Old rhetoric proves hard to shift

None of this has entered the consciousness of Indian policymakers, whose main worry is that China is right now building and planning a number of hydropower projects on the main stem of the Brahmaputra, upstream of the Great Bend. Two run-of-the-river projects are under construction at Zangmu and Jiexu and another is planned at Jiacha.

In a report to a committee of secretaries, the Indian government panel has said these may be followed by projects at three other sites where the kind of construction that is usually related to hydroelectric projects is gathering pace, including four new bridges.

The panel’s report adds India has noticed heightened industrial activity at Nangxian, along with constant improvements in the Bome-Medog road that passes through the Great Bend area. The panel members felt that Dagu and Jiexu, along the main stem of the river, were likely to become industrial centres. All this will need more electricity and water, both at short supply in Tibet. Indian officials complain that there may be about 30 other projects in the Brahmaputra basin, about which China declines to share any information.

Officials in India’s water resources ministry are now studying riparian treaties to decide what they should recommend, first to the rest of the Indian government and then to China. Officials in the ministry said they were exploring options on the basis of bilateral and multilateral environmental treaties and conventions around the world.

Demands downstream in Bangladesh

A major problem the bureaucrats have is that the Brahmaputra does not end in India – it flows on to Bangladesh. India is now building and planning just the same kind of projects on its stretch of the Brahmaputra as China is doing upstream. So if India can demand a joint mechanism with China, Bangladesh can demand just the same with India, something that bureaucrats in New Delhi are loath to concede. In fact, due to this fear India is now hastening construction in the 800-megawatt Tawang 2 hydroelectric project on the Brahmaputra, plus many smaller projects in the basin.

India’s way of assuaging fears in Bangladesh is to offer the lower riparian country a share in the electricity generated by a project, in one case even offering a shareholding in the firm set up for the project. Indian officials have also been taking their Bangladeshi counterparts upstream in the Brahmaputra and showing them how these projects are supposed to reduce the prospect of flooding in both countries. They have also been discussing how they can do some joint dredging in the river and build embankments together.

But Bangladesh will continue to press for a multilateral agreement, as its visiting commerce minister Mohammed Habibur Rahman Khan made clear during his recent visit to India.

So at the level of politicians and bureaucrats, all countries are stuck in the old rhetoric. It is now clear that unless the farmers and the fishermen, the factory owners and the workers, those who row the ferries and those who ride them, are all involved in the conversation, there is little chance of getting any meaningful agreement. And the situation will keep getting worse as long as rivers in the basin are seen as water pipes rather than living ecosystems.

Independent experts see only one way out. As D’Souza puts it, “The principles and premises of riparian treaties need to be re-organised. River basins must be seen as interconnected and integrated ecosystems where all stakeholders must have a say.”

Image of the Brahmaptura in Assam by Rita Willaert.

Calls by Yunnan officials to restrict water flows to other countries overlook the ecological and water quality factors behind south-west China’s drought

Yunnan’s drought continues. During China’s annual parliamentary session in March, the deputy party secretary of the south-west Chinese province, Qiu He, blamed spring floodwaters that flow through Yunnan and on into other countries for the water shortages.

He proposed a system of reservoirs, dams and tanks to store that water, which could then be distributed more evenly over time and between locations. But many complained that Chinese officials were trying to pass their own troubles on to others.

Historically, Yunnan hasn’t been known for suffering droughts. Today, however, it is famous for it.

The winter and spring droughts that started in 2009 continue to plague China’s south-west, harming the region’s vulnerable economy – particularly agriculture and forestry. Cash crops such as sugar cane and coffee have been lost, and the crisis is restricting Yunnan’s economic growth.

Deforestation and water shortages

If you look at the amount of precipitation in Yunnan, you might struggle to understand how the province could be hit by drought. The monsoons bring plenty of rain during a distinct wet season. However, thanks to the province’s geography, that rain falls unevenly. Some south-western areas can see as much as 3,000 millimetres of rain a year, while arid valleys might have less than 500 millimetres.

So climate and geography result in an uneven distribution of water, and therefore shortages during the dry season. Normally, Yunnan’s forests and wetlands regulate this imbalance, acting as sponges that soak up water during the monsoons and gradually release it. Millions of people in Yunnan benefit, including those living downstream of Yunnan’s six major rivers – in the Yangtze and Pearl River basins, for example.

But the continued drought is a warning of the damage being done to those ecosystems.

Yunnan is heavily-forested. But the original forests, able to store and regulate water, have virtually been destroyed. Serious environmental damage has been done.

Yunnan is China’s most bio-diverse region, with 53% forest coverage and 3,400 square kilometres of natural wetlands. But while those figures sound high, environmental damage and a failure to invest in protection remains apparent.

Forest cover includes huge swathes of commercial rubber, eucalyptus and fir plantations. Little original forest, which is able to store water, is left. A 2013 Greenpeace report estimated that just 9% of total forest cover was original forest.

Importance of natural forest

Central and north-western Yunnan, where water and soil loss due to damaged forests is most common, has been hardest hit. In the prefecture of Chuxiong, forest cover has dropped from 12.8% sixty years ago to 5.2% today. These areas tend to be arid valleys, already lacking precipitation, and deforestation makes droughts and landslides more likely. In these ecosystems, loss of vegetation is hard to remedy and a cycle of droughts may start.

What’s more, recent years have seen secondary forest – the bulk of Yunnan’s forests, important for retaining water – converted into commercial forest plantations. These plantations are home to a single tree species, have little undergrowth and retain little water: if it’s raining the ground is waterlogged, if it’s not raining the ground is dry.

The value of natural forests has been ignored. Despite years of drought, better-protected nature reserves have coped well, and have even been able to provide drinking water for neighbouring residents through small pipe networks. The difference with badly-degraded areas is clear.

The damage reflects a failure to protect forests. Of Yunnan’s six rivers, the Lancang, Nu, Hong and Irrawaddy leave China to become major international rivers. And of the six, only the Yangtze enjoys protection of the natural forests at its source (the only other place where such measures are in place is Xishuangbanna in southern Yunnan). Investment in other rivers is low. Without incentives to protect the environment, forest owners are more inclined to plant profitable cash crops.

Protecting natural regulation of the water supply should be the primary objective for Yunnan as it attempts to combat droughts. Anything else will simply worsen the problem.

Forgetting about water pollution

Yunnan’s ample precipitation has allowed the province to overlook the consequences of water pollution. Many rivers and lakes, including Dianchi lake outside the provincial capital Kunming, are now polluted. In the dry season, some areas have no drinkable water.

Dianchi is a typical example. Thirty years ago, its water was Class III, making it suitable for use in daily life according to China’s water quality assessment system. Now it is heavily polluted and provincial capital Kunming has had to build infrastructure to bring water in from elsewhere. Pollution from the expanding mining industry is making river water undrinkable.

The Bi River, a tributary of the Lancang, is another good example. It used to provide drinking water for hundreds of thousands of people, but now it is one of the province’s most polluted rivers, ranked as sub-Class V, the worst grade.

Lead and zinc mining have sent heavy-metal levels far above permitted levels, while residents of county seat Yunlong can no longer drink direct from the river – they take their water from a nearby nature reserve, meaning rural areas lose out to ensure supply to the town.

Of Yunnan’s six rivers, the Jinsha, Hong and Pearl are all polluted. Of its nine plateau lakes, only Fuxian and Lugu still have Class I quality water. Erhai has improved after treatment, but the others remain polluted. If water pollution is not dealt with, there will not be enough clean water.

Dumping of domestic waste in Yunnan’s rivers is also a problem. Without appropriate waste disposal services, both rural and city residents habitually throw rubbish into the river. At Lujiangba, on the Nu River, it is common for waste to be dumped unsorted into rivers, and this type of pollution is more apparent during droughts.

Solutions for Yunnan

The drought continues, and nobody knows how long it will last. An urgent response is needed.

Hydrological projects to retain and distribute water may sound wise, but if environmental damage and pollution is not tackled, the water retained may be undrinkable.

What Yunnan really needs iis protection of the primary vegetation that remains and reductions in the replacement of water-retaining secondary forests with artificial plantations.

The rampant mining and hydropower development currently under way must be subject to stricter environmental assessments, to ensure drinking water does not become polluted. And there is also an urgent need to solve the problem of pollution from waste.

Image by Greenpeace