I have learned that there is a countercurrent to globalization. It is called self-sufficient agriculture, and it is supported at all levels in Thailand, from rural communities to the King. This discovery was a surprising one, given the status quo assumption in the West that the process of global economic integration is inevitable in the name of progress. On the contrary, many communities are converging on an alternative conclusion: that organic, subsistence agriculture is more conducive to food security, community integrity, and human and ecological health than is export-driven industrialization and specialization.
Additionally, I have learned that community development policies are most effective when they arise from a grassroots level. The well-intentioned efforts of the government of Surin province to foster a transition toward organic farming, for example, appear to be a political maneuver that is merely responsive to the groundswell of support among the people. One has only to speak with the organizer of a Green Market to learn that the government’s policies “cannot reach farmers in the area”—that they produce few concrete results. Similarly, there was a Minister for Yasotorn Province who failed to secure compensation for his people whose lives were displaced by the construction of a dam. He, therefore, retired from government and joined the Assembly of the Poor, where he was empowered to do more for the disadvantaged than from his position as a decision-maker in the central government. This is likely not the fault of those in government; it is rather a manifestation of the fact that, for the success of initiatives that will change they way people live, “villagers need to be able to manage these programs themselves.” In short, “bottom-up” social programs are more sustainable than “top-down” decrees.
These discoveries are important for me for a couple of reasons. First, my perception has been that globalization is a force that can be harnessed for the benefit of environmental and social activists in the future, through partnerships among business, government, and civil society. This notion is underscored by the assumption that interconnectivity is an important theme in any system, from ecology to economics to human rights and social change. As a result of this assumption, I have been slow to question the inherent value of market liberalization. However, as the Thai-Australia Free Trade Agreement has shown, such negotiations tend to exclude the opinions of all but a very few, very powerful stakeholders. Two or three families, each of whom serve in the present government, now reap profit from the sale of car parts and certain technologies to Australia—while thousands of Thai beef farmers, beverages producers, others were undermined by the influx of foreign imports. There should be exchange among people; but that exchange should be fair.
Second, I have recently considered the idea that if I can enter elected government, I can leverage my authority and connectivity to better represent the public interest. This week, I have been forced to reconsider this assumption, in light of the success I have seen among community organizers around Northeast Thailand that look inward, to the resources of one’s own community, to build a model of sustainable living.
It would appear logical that social capital, such as the knowledge of agricultural techniques and species that are suitable for local conditions, would be better preserved through local action than through centralized management. I am therefore committed to taking a serious new look at career choices.
Education that brings children closer to their communities, that gives them the skills to work and live within that community and to craft and follow through with a vision—these things must surely be more sustainable than an education that prepares a generation for a global service economy.
What if I were to attempt to create a self-sustainable organic farm later in my life? There are many other things I wish to do and see before I would be ready to commit to a lifestyle so tied to the land. But I can recognize that such a connection might be the most fulfilling thing that one could do—and indeed, it has been a goal of mine for many years to be able to live off of the fruits of the land, in accordance with and not exceeding nature’s ability to replenish itself.
Moreover, I believe that by doing so, I could continue to be a leader. I have come to this conclusion through observation, by seeing the energy with which organic farmer, activist, and politician P’Bamrung Kayotha infuses his community with a transformative vision and model for sustainable living.
It is, appropriately, through the slow and difficult process of observation that I would have to learn how to create a sustainable organic farm in the United States. The local knowledge required for a successful integrated farm in the American Southwest is inherently different than that which P’Bamrung has drawn upon for his own venture. Perhaps I could look to the communities of indigenous peoples that are abundant, if relentlessly abused and scattered, in that region. It is a challenge of significant magnitude, but one that I can actually picture myself doing because it may be the first and most important step toward a sustainable future for the Earth and its people.
Additionally, I have learned that community development policies are most effective when they arise from a grassroots level. The well-intentioned efforts of the government of Surin province to foster a transition toward organic farming, for example, appear to be a political maneuver that is merely responsive to the groundswell of support among the people. One has only to speak with the organizer of a Green Market to learn that the government’s policies “cannot reach farmers in the area”—that they produce few concrete results. Similarly, there was a Minister for Yasotorn Province who failed to secure compensation for his people whose lives were displaced by the construction of a dam. He, therefore, retired from government and joined the Assembly of the Poor, where he was empowered to do more for the disadvantaged than from his position as a decision-maker in the central government. This is likely not the fault of those in government; it is rather a manifestation of the fact that, for the success of initiatives that will change they way people live, “villagers need to be able to manage these programs themselves.” In short, “bottom-up” social programs are more sustainable than “top-down” decrees.
These discoveries are important for me for a couple of reasons. First, my perception has been that globalization is a force that can be harnessed for the benefit of environmental and social activists in the future, through partnerships among business, government, and civil society. This notion is underscored by the assumption that interconnectivity is an important theme in any system, from ecology to economics to human rights and social change. As a result of this assumption, I have been slow to question the inherent value of market liberalization. However, as the Thai-Australia Free Trade Agreement has shown, such negotiations tend to exclude the opinions of all but a very few, very powerful stakeholders. Two or three families, each of whom serve in the present government, now reap profit from the sale of car parts and certain technologies to Australia—while thousands of Thai beef farmers, beverages producers, others were undermined by the influx of foreign imports. There should be exchange among people; but that exchange should be fair.
Second, I have recently considered the idea that if I can enter elected government, I can leverage my authority and connectivity to better represent the public interest. This week, I have been forced to reconsider this assumption, in light of the success I have seen among community organizers around Northeast Thailand that look inward, to the resources of one’s own community, to build a model of sustainable living.
It would appear logical that social capital, such as the knowledge of agricultural techniques and species that are suitable for local conditions, would be better preserved through local action than through centralized management. I am therefore committed to taking a serious new look at career choices.
Education that brings children closer to their communities, that gives them the skills to work and live within that community and to craft and follow through with a vision—these things must surely be more sustainable than an education that prepares a generation for a global service economy.
What if I were to attempt to create a self-sustainable organic farm later in my life? There are many other things I wish to do and see before I would be ready to commit to a lifestyle so tied to the land. But I can recognize that such a connection might be the most fulfilling thing that one could do—and indeed, it has been a goal of mine for many years to be able to live off of the fruits of the land, in accordance with and not exceeding nature’s ability to replenish itself.
Moreover, I believe that by doing so, I could continue to be a leader. I have come to this conclusion through observation, by seeing the energy with which organic farmer, activist, and politician P’Bamrung Kayotha infuses his community with a transformative vision and model for sustainable living.
It is, appropriately, through the slow and difficult process of observation that I would have to learn how to create a sustainable organic farm in the United States. The local knowledge required for a successful integrated farm in the American Southwest is inherently different than that which P’Bamrung has drawn upon for his own venture. Perhaps I could look to the communities of indigenous peoples that are abundant, if relentlessly abused and scattered, in that region. It is a challenge of significant magnitude, but one that I can actually picture myself doing because it may be the first and most important step toward a sustainable future for the Earth and its people.
posted by Darren Legge at 2:17 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home