China’s ambitious Great Green Wall project, a decades-long endeavor to combat desertification in its northern regions, is yielding a complex legacy of environmental transformation and social upheaval. While the initiative has successfully “greened” vast swathes of arid land, offering new economic avenues for some, it has also disrupted the traditional livelihoods of nomadic herders and raised ecological questions about the long-term sustainability of these man-made forests.
The project, officially known as the Three-North Shelterbelt Forest Program, aims to create a massive barrier of vegetation to halt the expansion of the Gobi and Taklamakan deserts. This expansion has been driven by a combination of climate change and intensive agricultural practices. The scale of the project is immense, with over 90 million hectares already converted to green space and plans to plant an additional 70 million hectares by 2050. For many, the Great Green Wall represents a beacon of hope in the global fight against climate change and land degradation, with President Xi Jinping recently highlighting the effort as a key component of China’s climate goals. However, for ethnic Mongolians and other traditional communities in the region, the project has brought profound and often unwelcome changes to their way of life.
A Shifting Landscape of Opportunity
The Great Green Wall has undeniably brought economic benefits to certain areas. A 2015 United Nations study found that the project had created tens of thousands of jobs and helped to alleviate poverty in regions like Inner Mongolia’s Kubuqi desert. The initiative has fostered new industries, such as the cultivation of Cistanche, a parasitic plant valued in traditional Chinese medicine that can be grown in the sandy soil. Farmers like Bai Lei have found new business opportunities in this altered landscape. The project has also been credited with boosting the average income of local farmers and herders. In some areas, the focus has shifted from simply planting trees to creating new arable land, integrating drought-resistant creepers and even installing large-scale solar arrays to provide shade and reduce wind erosion.
The Erosion of Traditional Lifestyles
Despite the economic gains, the Great Green Wall has come at a significant cost for the region’s nomadic herders. A key component of the anti-desertification strategy has been the imposition of strict restrictions on traditional grazing practices. For herders like Dorj, an Inner Mongolian native, this has meant a drastic reduction in the size of his flock and confinement to a small, fenced-in area that cannot adequately support his animals. Activists argue that these measures have forcibly displaced herders and severed their deep-rooted connection to the land. Enghebatu Togochog, a Mongolian activist in exile, contends that sustainable practices that maintained the delicate balance of the grasslands for millennia have been disrupted, leading to the effective disappearance of traditional nomadism in Inner Mongolia over the last decade.
The Human Cost of Greening
The Chinese government has implemented policies of “ecological migration,” which have targeted the nomadic and semi-nomadic populations of the region. Critics argue that the government has unfairly blamed the traditional lifestyle of the Mongolians for the degradation of the grasslands. For the ethnic Mongolians, who constitute 17% of the autonomous region’s population, the campaign is seen as a threat to their cultural identity and farming practices. The project has been criticized for prioritizing the needs of the state over the rights and traditions of the local communities who have inhabited these lands for centuries.
Ecological and Scientific Considerations
While the greening of the desert is a visually impressive achievement, scientists have raised concerns about the long-term ecological viability of the project. Experts caution against the use of non-native and water-intensive plants in these arid regions. Planting species that consume large amounts of water can deplete the water table, leading to further land degradation. Zhang Yanping, a scientist taking samples from pines and poplars planted a decade ago in the Kubuqi desert, highlights the risk of such practices. The instinct to simply convert all desert into greenery may not always be the most scientifically sound approach. Wang Shuai, a geography professor at Beijing Normal University, suggests that a more nuanced understanding of the desert ecosystem is needed.
A Greener Future or a Green Mirage?
The project has achieved some notable successes. China’s largest desert, the Taklamakan, is now completely encircled by a belt of vegetation. This green barrier, composed of drought-resistant species like red willows, saxaul, and desert poplar, is intended to prevent the further expansion of the shifting sands. The forestry administration has touted this as a major victory in the battle against desertification. However, the long-term consequences of such large-scale afforestation in an arid environment remain to be seen. The success of the Great Green Wall will ultimately depend on whether these new forests can be sustained without causing unintended harm to the region’s delicate ecological balance.
A Model for the World?
China has actively promoted the Great Green Wall as a model for other countries facing similar challenges of desertification. The nation has shared its experiences and provided assistance to developing nations in Africa and Asia, helping them to implement their own desertification control strategies. This includes sharing technologies for sand fixation, water-saving agriculture, and afforestation. The project is held up as an example of China’s commitment to international cooperation on environmental issues. However, the social and ecological complexities of the project serve as a cautionary tale, highlighting the importance of considering the human and environmental costs of such large-scale interventions.
