Читать книгу Ecology of Sulawesi - Tony Whitten - Страница 10
ОглавлениеIntroduction
We arrived in Sulawesi in 1991, our bags overstuffed with the gear of ecologists—binoculars, notebooks, two dictionaries and one extremely heavy reference book, The Ecology of Sulawesi. The Ecology of Sulawesi provided a summary of the current knowledge of the island at that time. There was no argument about the thoroughness of the book; if a topic wasn't mentioned in The Ecology of Sulawesi, it probably hadn't been studied. At the time, there wasn't even a field guide to the birds, and our first identifications of endemic mynas relied on a small, black and white sketch in chapter one. Because few other references were available, The Ecology of Sulawesi became our bible. Over a four-year period of constant use by visitors, students, and biologists—not the least ourselves—our copy developed a broken binding and dog-eared, underlined pages—the highest compliment to the authors.
Much has changed in the past 13 years since the first edition of The Ecology of Sulawesi was published. There have been discoveries that we never imagined, and losses beyond what only the worst of pessimists would have dreamed in 1987. Unfortunately, funding is not yet available for a full revision that would incorporate all these changes into a new edition of The Ecology of Sulawesi. This second edition of The Ecology of Sulazvesi, however, will still be invaluable in any library. The updated bibliography should provide readers with numerous sources for more recent information about the island. Our first edition copy (now rebound) never stays on the shelf long and remains a primary reference when we, our staff and students are writing manuscripts.
Surely the most dramatic discovery of the last 13 years was the completely unexpected find of a coelocanth fish in a Manado market (Erd-mann et al. 1998). Indeed, it was heralded by some as 'the zoological find of the century'. Only one other population of this 'living fossil' (Forey 1998), located 1,000 kms off the coast of east Africa, has ever been discovered. Unfortunately, the excitement of discovery was marred by politics of taxonomy and currently controversy rages over whether or not the Manado population is a separate species. But the arguments certainly do not take away from the sheer excitement of such a discovery.
Perhaps the most satisfying find, especially for the authors of The Ecology of Sulawesi, was the rediscovery of the endemic Cerulean paradise flycatcher on Sulawesi's satellite island of Sangihe (Wardill and Riley 1999). The caption of plate 4 of the first edition states that the Cerulean paradise flycatcher bird is probably extinct. The flycatcher became become a poster bird for extinction when plate 4 appeared on the cover of the first issue of the journal for Conservation Biology and the species was declared 'almost certainly' extinct (Whitten et al. 1987). First described in 1873, the bird was known only from one museum specimen and was last sighted in 1981. In 1998 however, members of a small non-governmental organization (NGO), Action Sampiri, spotted the flycatcher while conducting ornithological surveys of the island. Although uncommon and restricted to an isolated mountaintop, the bird survives and provides a rare spark of optimism.
Figure I.2. Division of Sulawesi into provinces and counties.
NORTH | SOUTH | 15 - Pinrang |
1 - Gorontalo | 1 - Salayar | 16 - Enrekang |
2 - Bolaang Mongondow | 2 - Bulukumba | 17 - Luwu |
3 - Minahasa | 3 - Bontaeng | 18 - Tana Toraja |
4 - Sangihe-Talaud | 4 - Jeneponto | 19 - Polewati Mamasa |
5 - Takalar | 20 - Majene | |
CENTRAL | 6 - Gowa | 21 - Mamuju |
1 - Luwuk-Banggai | 7 - Sinjai | |
2 - Poso | 8 - Bone | SOUTHEAST |
3 - Donggala | 9 - Maros | 1 - Buton |
4 - Toli-Toli | 10 - Pangkajene Kep. | 2 - Muna |
11 - Barru | 3 - Kendari | |
12 - Soppeng | 4 - Kolaka | |
13 - Wajo | ||
14 - Sindereng Rappang |
The Sangihe-Talaud Islands have proven fertile grounds for other ornithological discoveries. Frank Lambert and colleagues uncovered three species new to science, including two rails and an owl (Lambert 1998a, b), verified the continued existence of the Sangihe shrike-thrush (Rozendaal and Lambert 1999), and uncovered two distinct scops owl species from Sangihe and Siau (Lambert and Rasmussen 1998). Similarly, surveys for mammals on Sangihe-Talaud have produced the first records this century of an endemic rat, a distinct form of bear cuscus, and a the Talaud fly ing fox—the latter found in a small restaurant, presumably headed for the pot.
Back on the mainland, biologists and other modern-day explorers have been making similar discoveries, including taxa as diverse as fungi (Rogers et al. 1987), freshwater crabs (Ng 1993), turtles (McCord et al. 1995; Platt et al. in press), rodents (Musser 1991; Musser and Holden 1991), snakes and lizards (Iskandar 1999a; Lazell 1987; Bosch and Ineich 1994), insects (Conde 1992a, b, 1994; van Tol 1987, 1994; Monk and Butlin 1990) and plants (Dransfield 1989, 1992) as well as co-evolved relationships between ants and trees (Maschwitz and Fiala 1995). Parks and protected areas have revealed a number of secrets, underscoring their importance for species protection. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, expeditions to Lore Lindu National Park revealed two new tarsier species (Musser and Dagosto 1987; Nemitz et al. 1991). More recently, a Ninox owl, previously known only from a single museum specimen (Rasmussen 1999), and the Matinan flycatcher were recorded in Gunung Ambang Nature Reserve (Lee and Riley in press). Most recently, a Heinrich's nightjar was observed in Panua Nature Reserve and unexpectedly large populations of anoa and babirusa have been found in Bogani Nani Wartabone (formerly known as Dumoga-Bone) National Park (Lee pers. comm.). The Sulawesi palm civet, thought to be tumbling towards the vortex of extinction, was photographed by a team from The Nature Conservancy in the forests of Lori Lindu National Park (Indonesian Observer 2000).
In addition to species discoveries and rediscoveries, the 1990s experienced an explosion of medium- and long-term research projects. These projects focused primarily on large vertebrates, especially Sulawesi endemics. Sulawesi's seven species of endemic macaques received the lion's share of attention with research covering taxonomy (Bynum 1999; Evans et al. 1999; Watanabe et al. 1991), conservation status (Bynum 1999; O'Brien and Kinnaird 1996), ecology (Lee 1997; Matsumura 1993, 1996, 1998; O'Brien and Kinnaird 1997; Rosenbaum et al. 1998), and the dramatic scale of hunting (Alvard 2000; Lee 2000a, b; O'Brien and Kinnaird 1996, 2000). The previously unknown natural history of the rare babirusa was unfolded by Clayton (1996) and Clayton and MacDonald (1999) during her intensive studies at a salt lick in Paguyaman forest, North Sulawesi. First-ever studies were published on the ecology of bear cuscus (Dwiyaherni et al. 1999), endemic forest kingfishers (Sunarto 1999), and hornbills (O'Brien 1996; Kinnaird and O'Brien 1993, 1999a; Kinnaird et al. 1996; Suryadi et al. 1994, 1996). Dekker and colleagues (Argeloo 1994; Dekker 1990; Dekker et al. in press) provided the first detailed information on the status and distribution of Sulawesi's oddest avian endemic— the Maleo. Gursky (1994, 1998) has greatly improved our knowledge of tar-sier behavior and ecology, Alvard and Winarni (1999) assessed bird communities in relation to habitat disturbance in Morowali Nature Reserve, and Bynum (1999) developed new habitat monitoring techniques for use in Lore Lindu National Park.
Sadly, all this ground-breaking research and discovery is occurring against a background of destruction. Since the publication of the first edition of The Ecology of Sulawesi, deforestation has continued unchecked. In spite of the efforts of international donor agencies (e.g., United States Agency for International Development [USAID], the World Bank, United Nations Development Program [UNDP], Asian Development Bank [ADB]) and the dedication of many NGOs, habitat loss on Sulawesi has actually accelerated. In a shocking report by Derek Holmes (2000) for the World Bank and the Ministry of Forestry and Estate Crops, Holmes shows that between 1985 and 1997 Sulawesi lost 20% of its natural forest cover. This figure does not account for forest quality, and land classified as forest could contain logged or burned forest, areas of reduced value for biodiversity conservation. Most startling, Holmes states that lowland dry forest, the most valuable type of Indonesian forest for logging and biodiversity conservation is 'essentially defunct as a viable resource in Sulawesi'. This should have been a wake-up call to the Indonesian government but instead the list of causes of forest destruction grew longer and more complex.
The leading cause of deforestation has been large-scale logging by a few conglomerates and the use of timber concessions for political patronage— huge tracts of state-owned forests were held in the 1980s and 1990s by family and business associates of former president Suharto (Richardson 2000). Ironically, central government policy has encouraged deforestation. Logging concessions, sugarcane plantations, and increasingly, oil palm plantations are not regulated and as Walton and Holmes (2000) state, 'perverse incentives exist that make it more lucrative to clear forested land for plantations than to plant open and unproductive land'. As timber exports shifted from logs to plywood and then to pulp and paper, more log processing plants were established until processing capacity exceeded sustainable yields. Finally, poor enforcement has allowed excesses to go unchecked. Illegal logging has become rampant, even in national parks, on a scale that exceeds the volume of legal logging. Authorities look the other way while the government loses tax revenue at the rate of roughly $500 million each year (Walton and Holmes 2000).
An increasingly important agent of deforestation on Sulawesi is the influx of new migrants into forested areas. In the late 1990s, as Indonesia plunged into economic crisis, unemployed urbanites returned to the countryside in need of land. Long-term residents also cleared new land to expand production of low-value vegetable crops and high-value cash crops (e.g., coffee, cocoa). As we write, new immigrants are arriving from areas of ethnic strife in the Moluccas. Thousands of displaced and land-hungry refugees are arriving daily; many observers report that there are now more than 200,000 refugees in North Sulawesi alone. Unless the problem is resolved soon, these people will resettle and require more land to support themselves and their families.
Forests that are not being cut are not necessarily safe. One of the most alarming discoveries of the 1990s is the degree to which people of Sulawesi are destroying their wildlife heritage (Lee 1997; O'Brien and Kinnaird 1996, 2000). Researchers showed that a number of endemic mammals, including the babirusa, anoa, and crested black macaque were on the edge of extinction as a result of over-hunting for subsistence and commercial bushmeat trade. Further evidence came from modeling exercises by Clayton and colleagues (1997) who showed that under current practices, babirusa populations will be reduced to very small and probably nonviable population numbers. Lee (1997, 2000a, b, c) conducted an extensive analysis of commercial and subsistence hunting and concluded that hunting for markets was having the greatest impact on local populations of wildlife, and Alvard (2000) showed a lesser, but still considerable, impact on wildlife through subsistence hunting by the Wana people of Morowali Nature Reserve. Overcollecting of sulphur-crested cockatoos for the pet trade has almost eliminated the species from Sulawesi except for a few remnant birds near Palu (PHPA/LIPI/BirdLife International-IP 1998). Finally, the breakdown of traditional customs and harvest regimes has played a major role in the on-going decline of the Maleo. Although more breeding sites have been discovered since the classic work of Dekker (1990), most are in danger from over-collecting and many sites are no longer active.
Sulawesi has a diverse system of parks and nature reserves that were set up to provide sanctuary for the island's biodiversity, free from hunting, and habitat destruction. The island boasts three national parks, including Lore Lindu National Park, a World Heritage Site, two marine parks, nineteen nature reserves, and an assortment of tourist parks and wildlife refuges. These areas cover most major habitats, contain populations of most endemic species, and several are large—all good qualities for reserves design. But in today's climate, the subject of reserve design is largely one of academic debate. Sulawesi's parks are not safe and although most of the protected areas have staff, the areas function as little more than paper parks. The question of what percentage of species will become extinct in 50, 500 or 5,000 years' time is not of great relevance when it is by no means certain how much of its reserves will be intact in even 25 years time. In Sulawesi today the major priority is simply to maintain the integrity of reserves against legal and illegal forms of habitat disturbance and resource exploitation.
Hunting and habitat destruction continue unchecked throughout Sulawesi's protected area system. Development projects such as road building, new transmigration schemes and dam development are being permitted in the parks, and in most cases supported by local government officials. Mining, both illegal and legal, continue to plague areas such as Bogani Nani Wartabone National Park. As we write, more than 4,000 illegal miners scour the hillsides of the park in search of gold, poisoning themselves and the environment with the mercury they use to separate the precious metal (Sydney Morning Herald 2000). An additional 5,000 illegal miners—supported by the military, local police and government officials— have invaded the Perth-based Aurora Gold's claim on the outskirts of Manado, similarly poisoning themselves and the surrounding waters of Bunaken Marine National Park (Sydney Morning Herald 2000). Logging operations encroach on reserve boundaries in many areas. Fires set by plantation companies and local people ravaged reserve land in 1994-95 and again in 1997-98. Illegal fishing nets, set in protected waters of Tangkoko drowned thousands of marine mammals and sea turtles, and killed manta rays and other pelagic fish. In spite of legal protection, hunters, rattan collectors and other forest product collectors roam freely throughout many reserves in North and Central Sulawesi, undaunted by apathetic, or in some cases, participating enforcement officials.
All of the abuses described have been exacerbated by the prolonged economic crisis, the collapse of central authority and the proposal to decentralize natural resource management. In the confusion and uncertainty, local natural resource managers are more reluctant than ever to take action. As local people move into protected areas and even logging concessions, they find that there is little resistance by the government. In addition, military and land speculators are getting into the act on the belief that if the land is cleared, they will be able to keep it. In Lore Lindu National Park, park management turned over approximately 2,000 ha of park land to local people for illegal coffee and cacao plantations, rather than confront the issue (Indonesian Observer 2000). As management breaks down, guards feel less responsible, are demoralized and stop working. In Tangkoko Nature Reserve in 1997, guards watched, but failed to report the forest fires that damaged more than half of the reserve.
Although the problems of Sulawesi's forests, parks and protected areas are severe, they are not insurmountable. Today, a growing number of organizations and individuals are committed to the conservation and rational management of Sulawesi's natural resources. The Natural Resource Management and Coastal Resource Management Programs of USAID have been working with local stakeholders including the government, local NGOs, and communities to develop policy and implement plans for sustainable use of marine and terrestrial resources. They were responsible for developing the management plan and basic infrastructure for Bunaken Marine National Park, one of Indonesia's most exquisite and popular marine sanctuaries. Conservation International and Biological Conservation Network have been working on the Togian Islands developing community-based management of coral reef tourism and protection of local forests. Sahabat Morowali, an Indonesian NGO, focuses on the conservation issues of Morowali National Park. They are especially concerned with involving the resident Wana people in management decisions concerning the park and have developed ecotourism ventures. The Nature Conservancy concentrates its efforts in Lore Lindu National Park. They have provided resources and training to the Directorate of Nature Protection and Conservation (PKA) staff, and are trying to develop alternative, environmentally friendly income sources aimed at reducing pressure on the park. Group Sampiri, a local NGO based on the work of Action Sampiri, is carrying out a rural awareness project on Sangihe-Talaud. Our organization, the Wildlife Conservation Society, has been active in Sulawesi since 1991 carrying out wildlife research and training of conservationists in protected areas such as Tangkoko, Gunung Ambang, and Bogani Nani Wartabone in North Sulawesi. The Wildlife Conservation Society conducts in-depth ecological research and baseline surveys on a variety of endangered species, conducts conservation education campaigns in North Sulawesi and trains park guards and provincial officials in conservation enforcement. At present, we are carrying out an island-wide field survey of protected areas and wildlife, and combining these surveys with training and management assistance.
In the final analysis, all the hard work of foreign and domestic conservation organizations will pale unless Indonesia as a nation—including its government, military, police forces, local NGOs, universities and communities—begin to show a serious commitment to conservation on Sulawesi. Unless the talk stops and the action begins, we will lose everything that made Sulawesi a special place in Alfred Russell Wallace's heart, as well as our own. And the next edition of The Ecology of Sulawesi could very easily become a history book.
M.F. Kinnaird and T.G. O'Brien
September, 2000