Most people know the Maldives as a tropical paradise for holiday makers. But behind the white beaches and glittering waves is a poor population which has lived in close symbiosis with the sea for hundreds of years - but now has to look elsewhere for a place to live, as the ocean is steadily eating away at their islands.
When the tsunami hit the archipelago of the Maldives in 2004, it was more in the way of a flooding than a regular tidal wave due to the sharp profile of the atolls. Only 87 people perished, but the damages were catastrophic for the tiny island state.
Two thirds of the country disappeared momentarily into the Indian Ocean, and when the sea withdrew, it took 62 percent of the country’s GNP with it. Electricity, communications and freshwater supplies on many islands were destroyed by the saltwater, and not until two years later was the country brought back on foot with the aid of the UN and international aid organisations.
Perhaps it was only a taste of what the 300,000 citizens of the Maldives can expect if and when global warming kicks in and makes the world’s seas rise by as much as one meter within the next century, like the latest scientific studies forecast.
80 percent of the island state’s only 235 km2 are less than one meter above sea level, so disaster is looming. Erosion is constantly eating away at the vulnerable atolls, and climate change is already palpable in the shape of more rain and more disease-carrying mosquitoes.
To most foreigners the Maldives are just a paradise for holiday makers. White beaches as if taken straight from a postcard and a temperature that due to cooling breezes from the sea never becomes unbearably high, making the country a rare pearl made for sailing, surfing, diving or just lazing on the beach. Under the sea, hobby divers encounter a world of adventures with corals and a thousand different tropical fish species.
Almost 700.000 tourists from mainly Europe, Japan, China and Australia visit the Maldives each year. Upon landing in one of the two international airports, one immediately notices the proximity of the sea. It feels literally like landing on the water because the islands are so tiny – a jogger can easily cover the perimeter of the main island Male’ in less than half an hour. The runways are regularly wet with splashes of sea water, in spite of the fact that the airport island Hulhumale has been raised artificially to the breath-taking elevation of two meters above sea level.
With a share of 35-40 percent of the GNP, tourism is a vital source of income for the Maldives. The second largest source of income is tuna fishing, which is done with hook and line in the traditional, environmentally friendly way, but which is declining rapidly due to dwindling fish stock. Apart from that, there is some farming, consisting mostly of coconuts and papaya.
Historically, the Maldives have for hundreds of years been a crossroads for different trade routes, and this is reflected in the population which ethnically and culturally is a unique amalgamation of Indians, Africans and Arabs. In addition to that, the island state has its own written language.
But the citizens in the 100 percent Muslim country are poor, and with a national economy the size of a small European city the Maldives are totally dependant upon foreign aid and loans if the tropical paradise is to be saved from slipping away into the expansive ocean.
Who will provide the necessary hundreds of millions of dollars, and is it worth the trouble in the first place? Couldn’t the tourists just go somewhere else for their holidays and the Maldivian population move some place where the risk of getting their feet wet is less imminent?
“It is a tiny nation, and by then (2100, ed. note) the population will perhaps be half a million people who could theoretically be displaced. But can we accept the disappearance of a country and an absolutely unique culture? That is the question we need to ask ourselves,” says Jonas Kjær.
Following the tsunami, from spring 2005 till late 2007 the Dane was stationed in the Maldives by the UNDP as aid coordination advisor, aiding the Maldivian government with the economic rehabilitation. There is no doubt in his mind as to the answer.
“No, we can not accept that a country just disappears,” he says.
According to Jonas Kjær, the recipe for saving the Maldives is “population and development consolidation”. The first step would be to gather the population of the Maldives, which at the moment is scattered over 200 islands, on just 10 to 15 islands. This would at the same time make an additional number of islands available to tourists, thereby making them co-finance the relocation and rehabilitation of the local population.
The next step would be to elevate the islands artificially by two to three meters, and to build solid walls along the coast safeguarding the islands against the tide and storms.
“Of course, there are some social, cultural and historical considerations to be made. You don’t just move a population that has inhabited the islands for maybe 2,000 years. That takes political guts,” says Jonas Kjær.
In fact, population and development consolidation, nicknamed “pop concert”, has been sitting in a drawer with the previous government for at least 10 years. Due to political reluctance and fear of the population’s reaction the programme hasn’t been initiated. There seems, however, to be a growing understanding amongst the population for a need to do something – an understanding that has been augmented substantially by the impact of the tsunami.
The younger and more informed citizens have especially acknowledged the need to move, and some are already on their way. More and more young Maldivians go to Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, Singapore, the US or the UK to study, and after finishing their studies some of them decide to stay in their new country, adding to the brain drain of their native country.
This leaves a Maldivian population, which after 30 years of semi-dictatorial rule has embarked on a positive democratic development, to hope that paradise has not already been lost.
