Missing the Mangroves Already

The development of civilization and industry in general has always shown itself so active in the destruction of forest that everything that has been done for their conservation and production is completely insignificant in comparison.
Karl Marx

It is horrifying that we have to fight our own government to save the environment.
Ansel Adams


When one travels to the airport, riding along the Corredor Sur, a dense green wall of mangrove forest accompanies us on the last leg of the journey: beginning after one passes the ritzy residential development of Costa del Este and ending at the airport exit.

The mangroves are a soothing sight. And although the mangroves are not particularly beautiful, they constitute a splendid buffer zone from the urban chaos one has left behind; and what’s more important, they are the last great vestige of costal wilderness within city limits.

But that, I’m afraid, is about to change.

La Prensa, in its January 8, 2008 issue, reports that the Ideal Living Corporation—an investment group that includes Carlos Pellas, Nicaragua’s wealthiest citizen, and Alberto Vallarino, who hopes to be the presidential candidate for the Panameñista Party in the upcoming elections, among others—plans to build the Santa Maria Golf and Country Club on land that includes 23 hectares of mangroves.

And the Ideal Living Corporation is not alone in its intentions to exploit this stretch of land.

At present, due to the capital city’s unprecedented growth spurt, the mangroves occupy highly coveted space. La Prensa’s article strongly suggests that this site has become a magnet for greed. But recently, the National Authority for the Environment (ANAM) has delayed construction of two exclusive housing projects—Costa del Sol and Panama Bay—because the plans developers submitted do not meet environmental protection standards.

But for how much longer can the people of ecological conscience who work for ANAM hold at bay the machinations of millions of dollars and considerable political influence?

Already, Grupo Shahani Real Estate is taking out full-page advertisements in La Prensa selling houses in Costa Sur—a development project that, if one looks at the map on their website, represents the beginning of the end of the mangroves.

Mangroves are not welcoming places for humans; and they’re only beautiful in the eyes of true nature lovers. Their thick, entangled growth and the damp grounds they dwell on—they thrive on tidewaters—do not lend themselves for pleasant excursions. But this is precisely what makes their survival so important. Mangroves—as anyone with a basic knowledge of ecology can tell you—are complex ecosystems that support an astonishing wealth of wildlife. Birds, fish, shellfish, snakes, crocodiles, bats, and honeybees are only a handful of the creatures that find refuge here.

And there’s something else one needs to keep in mind: since 1960 the Republic of Panama has lost 60% its mangroves, and the destruction of these precious wildlife sanctuaries continues at an alarming rate.

Should the mangroves along the Corredor Sur be sacrificed to Panama City’s growing hunger for land?

According to the article in La Prensa, representatives of Panama’s government declared that they believe that the notion of establishing housing developments alongside the mangroves offers enormous employment potential and should be carried forth just as long as whatever project built there is carried out in harmony with the environment.

At present, what perhaps is most comforting as one travels along the Corredor Sur to the Tocumen International Airport is that in spite of the widespread view that the growth of the nation’s capital is out of control, humankind and nature are still able to live alongside each other—at least in the case of this precious extension of mangroves. But our once peaceful cohabitation will not continue for much longer. Now that developers have set their sights on this land, it’s easy to predict which side will come out the loser.