With Death of Dictator, Gabon’s Parks at Risk

During the winter of 2004 I spent a month exploring the waterways surrounding two of Gabon’s then-brand-new national parks. Accompanied by a pair of young Gabonese eco-guides (minus the parks they would have most likely made a living as poachers), photographer Pete McBride and field biologist Mike Fay (whose 1999-2000 Megatransect – he walked across the entirety of the Congo forest – helped encourage the establishment of the park system), it was the most physically exhausting adventure yet. For a few reasons: We couldn’t carry much food, we pretty quickly ran out of fresh water and temperatures rarely dropped below 100 degrees F. It was also one of the most rewarding when it came to wildlife; when we’d pull onto the wide, sandy beaches of the Atlantic coast each night we’d be greeted by browsing elephants, buffaloes, hippos and crocs, nearly a full Noah’s Ark of critters displayed on some of the most beautiful white-sand beaches I’ve ever seen.

Those beaches, the jewels of the thirteen national parks, were protected in 2002 by Gabon’s president for life, Omar Bongo. With one dramatic signature he had turned ten percent of his country into parkland, in a country that had never had a park before.

The handful of environmental groups that had worked long and hard on the park set up rushed to get their borders marked and drawn onto every map possible. There was immediate concern that while it was dramatic it may have been only a gesture. Gabon – Omar Bongo – had never seen an oil, gas or timber contract that didn’t spell personal gain and there was concern that the park borders could easily be ignored at whim. Which is exactly what is happening today, furthered by the death two weeks ago of Omar Bongo.

He had treated Gabon as a self-obsessed landlord treats his private estate, ruling for so long — 42 years — that they had become one. He considered everything inside its borders to be his personal property and elevated corruption to a method of government. He amassed enough wealth to become one of the world’s richest men. It was therefore perfectly natural that an oil company, granted a large concession for coastal drilling, should slip him regular suitcases stuffed with cash. It was natural that $2.6 million in aid money should be used to decorate his private jet, that government funds should pay for the Italian marble cladding his palace, and that his wife Edith’s sea-blue Maybach, in which she was driven round Paris, should be paid for with a check drawn on the Gabonese treasury.  His greatest political achievement was to ensure that the revenues from Gabon’s 2.5 billion barrels of oil reserves guaranteed his grip on power while carefully allowing just enough oil money to trickle down to the general population of 1.4 million, thus avoiding any serious unrest.

The parks have been at risk even on the day the ink on their declaration was still wet. Since the beginning the integrity of the national parks system has been repeatedly threatened by resource extraction and infrastructure development. Most critical is the proposed Belinga mine development project, a $3.5 billion project that includes a mine, a dam, railroads and a deep-water port facility. Goldman Environmental Prize winner Marc Ona Essangui has led the fight against the mine, and other environmental battles within Gabon. While the mine is currently on hold with Omar Bongo’s death – and a new ruler yet to be named, possibly his son, Ali-Ben Bongo – who knows what kind of new exploitation will follow?