Timber, roads, immigration, and development in Dege County, western Sichuan

by Pamela Logan, April 23, 1998

Mill cutting up logs in Dege County.

Introduction

The exploitation of timber resources on the Tibetan plateau has long been a matter of concern for environmental advocates. Road-building, which improves access to Tibetan areas and allows Han migration into those areas, is also a hot-button issue for some. In this report I will give my personal observations, gathered over a period of seven years, on how roads, timber, and economic development are linked, and their general effects on Tibetans living in a particular valley in Dege County, Ganzi Prefecture, western Sichuan Province.

The stretch of river that I will discuss extends some 30 km south from Palpung Monastery, high in the mountains, to the Jinsha Jiang, a river that forms the border between Sichuan and Tibet Autonomous Region. Midway along this distance is Baiya Monastery. I have visited the two monasteries six times during the period 1991-1998, and have been organizing art and architecture conservation work there which brings me in close contact to the local people, government, and economy.

The situation in 1991

When I first visited the valley of the Beichhu River in 1991, it was a completely pristine area, heavily forested. The population density was limited by available space for planting, and the inhabitants purely Tibetan. The trail along the lower part of the river, between Baiya and the Jinsha Jiang, in 1991 was not passable by pack animals, and had no houses. The upper part, from Baiya to Palpung, held scattered farms and could be easily traversed by horses or yaks.

Valley of the Beichhu River in 1991. Map.

Because of the terrain, inhabitants of Palpung Monastery and neighboring villages could travel to Baiya, however if they wanted to reach a motorable road, they were obliged to walk or ride for six hours along a trail that traversed two passes, both over 4300 meters in elevation. In winter, these passes are often closed, thereby isolating the upper river valley and the two monasteries from the outside world.

As a direct consequence of this isolation, people living along the Beichhu River faced many difficulties. The township headquarters has a small clinic but it is perpetually short of medicines, and the government has a difficult time finding even minimally qualified "barefoot doctors" willing to live in such a remote area. They also have trouble finding competent teachers to instruct the 54 students (in 1998) at the small primary school. Far more children go uneducated because they live too far away to attend. Essential supplies such as cookpots, clothing, carpentry tools, nails, soap, candles, and plow tips are obtained only with great planning and effort. There is no electricity, and the only telephone, found at the township government office, is frequently out of order. Luxury items such as fruits and vegetables, window-glass, and books are rarely seen. Except for monks, most adults are functionally illiterate, and have little idea of what goes on in the outside world.

Gradual improvement of transportation to the area, and its effects

In 1994 the trail on the lower river was improved to the point where horses could pass. This meant that travelers could walk or ride for 4 hours to reach a motorable road where they might find a ride to town. In 1996 one of my Tibetan staff waited six hours on this road before someone picked him up. This was the year we began major repairs at Baiya Monastery, and our construction efforts were constantly hindered by the difficulty of transporting timber and other materials to the worksite. A simple oversight, such as failing to purchase enough nails, meant a delay of several days while someone made the trip to town to purchase needed items. Workers injured in the course of the construction--and there were several--faced a long and punishing journey to the nearest hospital.

As a consequence of the construction work at Baiya and Palpung, economic activity has picked up considerably. The forests next to both monasteries are protected by law, but timber half a kilometer away was felled for the sake of rebuilding the monasteries. Transportation of the timber required a tractor, which was driven in over a circuitous route over the mountains. Trails had to be widened to accommodate the tractor, and this required a labor force armed with picks and shovels. The monastery construction work itself employed hundreds of people: carpenters, stone-masons, carvers. painters, plasterers, mechanics, and carriers of wood, water, mud, and stone.

First appearance of Han people in the valley

Local Tibetans were recruited for most of these jobs by my Tibetan foreman, but he also hired some Chinese laborers who came from outside. A sawmill was erected below Palpung Monastery, and four Chinese came to run it. In 1994 a small gold mine was opened on the river, operated by Chinese miners, because (as I was told) no Tibetans could afford the necessary permit. Chinese are preferred for some jobs because of their higher skill levels, or because Tibetans are not willing to do some kinds of labor, or because Chinese are thought to be harder workers. Nearly all of these Chinese workers stayed in the area only temporarily, and went home after their work was finished. Nevertheless, now I frequently hear Chinese spoken in a place where, seven years ago, Tibetan was the only language heard.

A road is built

In 1997 a road was completed along the river to Palpung Monastery. Although the road has been beneficial to local Tibetans, the government didn't build it for them, but for access to timber, which is their primary resource and a driving force for economic development. Traveling this road in 1998, I found the forest on both sides of the river devastated. Huge logs were stacked alongside the road, awaiting transportation out. Trucks rumbled up and down, and wood-cutters had established camps in side valleys in the expectation of further road-building. Other team members and I, who recalled the peaceful horseback ride we had taken through that valley in past years, were tremendously aggrieved to see the widespread environmental damage.

Although the timber-cutting is abominable, I have found the road to be a great benefit in my work to preserve the art at Baiya Monastery, and the architecture at Palpung. In previous years, the only way to get out of Baiya was to ask local farmers to go to the high pastures and bring down some horses, which took an entire day--assuming the farmers were willing and the horses not needed for other work. Then we had a choice of riding to Palpung and trying to use the phone there to arrange a car pickup at a place 6 or 7 hours further, or else riding 4 hours directly to the highway and hoping that a passing vehicle would pick us up. Every aspect of the conservation and construction work was severely limited by the difficulty of finding and transporting equipment, supplies, and workers. I had to plan 3-4 week missions with almost no chance of re-supply. Now, however, it is a simple matter to hitchhike between the monasteries, or to town, and bring back needed goods.

The road has also brought benefit to local farmers, who now have a much easier time traveling outside their homes. Easier transportation has accelerated repair of monasteries and construction of other public building (for example, a new primary school is being built at the Babang township headquarters). Local people are employed in the construction and also are able to use many of the buildings after they are built.

Laws governing timber in Dege County

As part of my research in preparing this report, I interviewed two workers from the Dege County Forestry bureau who came to the area to supervise replanting of trees on nearby slopes. Their names are Gonga Sonam and Tashi Tsering, and they have worked in the forestry bureau for 12 and 15 years, respectively. According to them, the land area of Dege County is some 3.6-3.8 per cent forested. Timber cutting is strictly regulated by law. In 1997, 16,000 cubic meters of wood were authorized. In 1998, the figure is 10,000 cubic meters, and in 1999 they anticipated that the limit will be 5,000-6,000 cubic meters. By the year 2000 it will be illegal to cut wood anywhere along the Jinsha Jiang, including all of Dege County and Ganzi Prefecture.

Limits on timber harvest are enforced by numerous checkpoints along the highway where all trucks carrying wood are required to stop and have their papers checked. The price of wood is controlled by the forestry bureau. The men told me "before, when the rules weren't so strict, some people sold wood on the black market, but now the rules have gotten more strict and there's almost no black market anymore."

Tibetans have not been left on the side-lines when it comes to profit from the forestry industry. They are the main work force in cutting and transporting timber, although Han and Hui (Muslims) also work in this field. The local government reaps a considerable profit, which is--at least in theory--used to support schools, hospitals, and roads within the county.

Logging trucks transport freshly felled timber. Loading and
unloading is all done by hand.

 

The shrinking allotment for wood-cutting in Dege is part of a national plan for protecting the environment. In Ganzi Prefecture, the forestry bureau is being beefed up with added personnel. In Dege County alone, the forestry bureau employs 120 people. Trees are grown in nurseries, then transplanted when they are half a meter high. Seedlings grown include spruce (Picea balfouriana, yunshan), which is the dominant species in the area. Other naturally occurring species are fir (Abies squamata, lengshan) and birch (Betula sp., baimu). Local people are (and will be) permitted to harvest timber for their own homes by paying a fee of 12 yuan per cubic meter provided they first apply to the local government. Compare this to the free market price in Chengdu of 800-1000 yuan per cubic meter, according to forestry researcher Daniel Winkler.

The trees being cut are typically 150 years old, so it will take a long time for the forest to regenerate. In the meantime, no special measures are being taken to control erosion. Growth of the new trees is monitored by the forestry bureau. After spring planting, the prefectural forestry bureau checks the trees in mid-summer, and if less than 80% of them are healthy then the county is not reimbursed for its planting expenses. The trees are checked twice more, and both of these times the rate of healthy trees is required to be 70%.

The laws governing timber cutting would therefore appear to be well-crafted and environmentally sound. However I am unable to gauge the degree to which corruption and mismanagement are undermining implementation. Significant is the fact that I was unable to observe any replanted slopes in the neighborhood.

Wildlife and mining in the area

The two forestry bureau officials also told me about wildlife in Dege County. Notable mammal species include the White-lipped deer (Cervus albirostris), Black bear (Selenarctos thibetanus), Tibetan brown bear (Ursus arctos), Musk deer (Moschus sifanicus), and leopard (Panthera pardus). They told me, "A law protecting these animals has come out, but more and more people hunt animals illegally. They hunt for money. The skin of a leopard is very valuable." The two reported that populations of all these large mammals is declining.

The gold mine I saw in 1994 is no longer operating, and many of the mines I saw along the road from Kangding (Dartsendo) to Dege also show much reduced activity. I am told that the government has forced many mines to shut down, as part of their campaign for protection of the environment.

Future outlook

As the mining and timber industries continue to shrink due to new environmental protection laws, there is good reason to expect a severe recession in Dege and surrounding counties. Other activities, such as harvesting of Matsutake mushrooms and chongcao (caterpillar fungus) are not enough to pick up the slack. Forward-looking leaders are therefore searching for new money-making activities. For example, the Dege government is seeking to export traditional Tibetan medicines, and has asked Beijing to open the county to tourism. But neither of these activities can be expected to replace timber in profitability by the 2000 deadline. Thus, the near-term economic outlook is grim.

Summary

Road-building, timber, Han immigration, and economic development are closely linked, and are a double-edged sword for local Tibetans. The environmental devastation of the timber industry is deplorable, but it does provide jobs. Road building enhances transportation and trade, while accompanying Han immigration disturbs the area's traditional culture. Despite the problems, most Tibetans agree that their lives are getting better. However, new environmental protection laws will slow development, and force local leaders to be creative in finding new ways to keep their economies afloat. Thus, the people of Dege County and surrounding areas can expect many changes and challenges in the years ahead.

(Note: Latin species names in this report were supplied by Daniel Winkler).