Conservation practice in the Osa has been shifting from the top-down model to more integrated forms, a move that mirrors many recent developments in the global conservation movement. The centralized state approach shifts to a decentralized approach and includes a mixture of private interests. Conservation in Costa Rica has taken a number of forms, and outlined here are the politics of the top-down approach, or the buy-and-protect form of conservation, that has characterized most previous efforts to buy-and-protect biodiversity in the Osa. The top-down approach manifests as a strategy of both the state and of NGOs; and therefore, this chapter focuses first on the public sector, demonstrated by the president’s office, PNC, and institutional outreach programs, and then the private sector, including NGO activity in the Osa. Some central questions are: what maintains the
“green” republic’s status as environmental, what does it mean to be a citizen within the enviro-nationalist structure, and how do “environmental values” shape the everyday practices of residents and conservation practitioners? Specifically, this chapter outlines how the institutional response to environmental concerns is entangled with residents, visitors, and practitioners, demonstrating how and why it became vital to transform the top-down or fortress-style conservation strategy.
There are countless environmental projects, associations, NGOs, and other entities with interests in the Osa and Golfo Dulce region, but the most prominent are Fundación Corcovado (FC), Fundación Neotrópica (FN), and Osa Conservation (OC). The NGOs have great influence in the area, given the importance of land use and regulations for natural resource extraction. Additionally, local associations like the Association of
National and Environmental Community Service (ASCONA)46 are also politically engaged with conservation. Dos Brazos, for example, has a conservation association rather than the more common development association to act as the community’s major body for political and economic decisions. Some themes throughout various public and private interests in ACOSA territory include concerns for the preservation of Costa Rica’s biodiversity;
political engagement with small communities; negotiating various visions for future
generations; competing notions of privilege within the Osa’s political ecology; and tensions between all actors involved – especially between longtime residents and those seen as foreigners. Both state and NGO practices, when performed in the institutionalized top-down fashion, represent an imperialistic logic similar to environmentality. The move towards integration represents an incorporation of this logic within the practice of quotidian forms of subsistence and a more egalitarian approach to socio-environmental relations.
After some initial framing for fortress conservation, this chapter begins with the newly elected president’s visit to Puerto Jiménez and Dos Brazos on World Environment Day, demonstrating the administration’s intentions regarding environmental issues, and generally, the politically central urge for Costa Rica to pursue conservation. Similarly, the symbolic value the state holds for the Osa Peninsula’s biodiversity and landscape suggests one way that the politics of conservation are entangled within the environmental narratives embodied by the Osa. The following section details some perspectives from the rangers of Corcovado National Park – the site of much of the Osa’s socio-environmental tensions. I then discuss maritime interests and an important meeting in Golfito that exemplify state attempts at community outreach and more inclusive politics. Moving to private sector initiatives, I discuss some previously attempted environmental plans, how they have come to be perceived, and how NGO workers are discussing the success or failure of certain projects. This will draw contrast and inform the manner in which conservation is changing to include a wider variety of voices. The ethnographic portraits that follow portray
moments when large-scale environmental planning seeks traction on the ground.
46 This is the new iteration of ASCONA, the famous pioneer environmentalist group, begun by the daughter of one of the original founders. This Osa-based iteration keeps the acronym but has changed the name from the Association for the Conservation of Nature.
Fortress Conservation and NGO Reputations
Historically, the most widespread type of conservation (both globally and reflected within the Osa’s early environmental history) has been fundraising to secure ownership over the area in question and maintain its ecological integrity through establishing a legal boundary. In the Osa this style of conservation has been viewed negatively, and as an example of top-down politics. Similarly, buy-and-protect or fortress conservation strategies mean preservation of large areas without any community involvement. Before progressing to the nuanced networks of conservation, I will outline some of the problematic tendencies that have led to the unfavorable reputations of many NGOs in the Osa. The purpose is not an attempt to portray all environmental organizations as monolithic entities with no specificities in personnel or policy, or a polemic critique of conservationists in favor of negative perspectives that always disseminate through common gossip and discourse, but to remain critical of conservation initiatives that maintain an imperialist logic and override many social practices of people already inhabiting the territory.
Both state and NGO practices are implicated by fortress conservation. The
establishment of PNC and RFGD, among other preserves, is an example of “alienating land and defending the resultant conservation ‘fortresses’” (Brockington 2002: 7), widely
critiqued on the basis that surrounding communities often disagree with the values and practices assumed by the preserves (Ibid: 7-8). Many Osa residents, like Igoe’s Maasai and Tanzanian informants, “described conservation as indistinguishable from any of the other global processes they confronted in their daily lives” (2004: 9). The commonalities between conservation and globalization appear most evident through methods of control and border maintenance. Other works (Anderson and Berglund 2003; Brockington and Duffy 2011; and Grove 1995) explain that the origins of environmentalism can be traced back through the expansion of European hegemony (Grove 1995), and that issues of privilege, value systems that circumscribe the Other, and politics of disempowerment and dispossession are expressed “not within colonial offices but within the cafes and meeting rooms where environmental consultants meet” (Anderson and Berglund 2003: 2).
Although fortress conservation has the power to marginalize competing interests and dispossess locals of their lands, initiatives based upon sustainable development strategies
also employ the logic of globalization that can reproduce the inequalities it seeks to address.
In the Osa, with 80% of the Peninsula conserved (inclusive of the state forest reserve, national park, and small private preserves), strict state-operated biodiversity preservation has been the rule, leaving little opportunity for market-based approaches to work (Fletcher 2012: 307). Contrastingly, this type of environment makes ecotourism very attractive and successful due to the lack of competition from mainstream tourism and prevalence of state preserves (Fletcher 2012). With a forty-year history of state-sponsored conservation and a growing interest in market-based conservation, Osa residents perceive conservation as a major trending interest that means external controls from San José or elsewhere, reminiscent of the common sentiment that “the park is only for foreigners.”
Although natural resource extraction by large companies differs in practice from either fortress conservation or more integrated approaches, residents view control as control;
meaning that they often conflate extraction and conservation because of who has
sovereignty over the space in question, and because of the fact that they are, in either case, the ones marginalized.
Osa Conservation (OC) is one example of a beleaguered NGO with which I built the closest relationship, due to access and connections made during fieldwork, and this
organization is likely the largest landowner out of the three key environmental groups within the Osa. NGOs like Fundación Corcovado (FC) and Fundación Neotrópica (FN), in addition to those involved in the Osa Campaign, are also critical actors within the
conservation efforts in the Osa, but will be focal points elsewhere in the thesis. OC was formerly known as “Friends of the Osa” [Amigos de Osa], and commonly maligned as
“Enemies of the Osa” [Enemigos de Osa], rhyming the words in Spanish. The buy-and-protect style of conservation has been popularly seen as land hoarding. Many residents from a variety of neighborhoods and backgrounds have shared the view that land bought on such a large scale negatively impacts farmers in the area.
Employees of OC are also critical and skeptical of the NGO encounter in general.
All are aware of the imperfect OC reputation. One employee described casual instances when mentioning that he works for OC became a “conversation ender.” This employee also reiterated the ubiquitous critique that simply buying land and protecting it is not
enough, and that the NGO must engage with surrounding communities and farmers. A change in this policy would not only improve community relations but also more efficiently reach the goals of conservation. Unprompted, a mechanic from Puerto Jiménez expressed his dislike for conservation initiatives like OC, that have, in his view, taken land from farmers and challenged the sovereignty of used trails. Just the word “conservation” seems to evoke passionate reactions in Puerto Jiménez, attesting to its controversial history. Many people in town, hotel employees, guides, and farmers expressed opinions on the importance of speaking with “the people that live here,” concerning what they think about
conservation. Mentioning “conservation” provoked diatribes against the state and the NGO sector that always reinforced the importance of longtime residents and their interests.
Even though it was clear that my presence was that of an anthropologist not an environmentalist, many individuals were cautious about what to say and do when
confronted with questions. One ecolodge employee tried to hide the fact that he made an
“illegal ceviche” with prohibited catch, demonstrating such catch regulations were not popular with some residents. On another occasion the same employee expressed with passion how happy he felt to live and work somewhere where he could see an impressive terciopelo [fer-de-lance] crossing the road as he arrived at work. His amazement with the snake, on one hand, and the illegal shellfish on the other, attest to the common balance struck by many residents between nature loving and practical engagement with resources.
Another employee described, shrugging, a fifty-fifty attitude: “some people think about conservation, and others don’t.”
Conservation as controversy translated as a difficulty for obtaining some detail for how NGOs had upset nearby farmers. One interview with someone I had spent a lot of time with persistently evaded specifics. He did not feel comfortable explaining how one NGO gained advantage while negotiating purchase of his family’s farm, and left the family with less than the agreement stated. After the interview, his British girlfriend told me that he withheld damaging details, meaning that he did not want to say too much, hurt the NGO’s reputation, or implicate himself in disseminating a negative portrayal. The presence of what is unsaid suggests controversy and some compliance.
NGO work is often critiqued from two angles: not doing enough on one hand, and leaving without finishing the job, on the other. Some believe that any group who arrives in
the Osa with a project should actually be working towards finishing the project, or as one employee states, “we should be working to be unemployed.” Resentment has built where NGOs have had a large and longtime presence with little result, or unknown results. This forces many residents and workers to believe that conservation is a business and that claims to be “making a difference,” implying improvement in the Earth’s wellbeing and ecological health, are not so sincere. Coupled with a lack of dialogue between the NGO sector and residents, a longtime presence without many visible results allows for rumors and gossip to spread through Puerto Jiménez and bolster a negative opinion. The charge of “not doing enough” also refers to the manner in which the work is practiced; that NGOs do not
integrate their initiatives and satisfactorily communicate with residents; not enough is done to elicit trust; and socio-economic concerns are largely ignored with statements like, “that’s not our job.”
These vignettes and the description of fortress conservation above serve to frame the interaction between the institution of conservation and Osa residents. With this in place, I explain, through a few examples, what the state and some NGOs are doing in the Osa and Golfo Dulce, how that practice reflects the shift in conservation strategies more generally, and the implications of critiquing the top-down model.
World Environment Day, Puerto Jiménez
The newly elected president of Costa Rica, Luis Guillermo Solís (2014- present), arrived in Puerto Jiménez for the World Environment Day, June 5, 2014. Created by the United Nations in 1974, the World Environment Day has been a call for political leaders to reflect upon sustainability and environmental protection. It was inspired by the 1987 Brundtland Report and subsequent 1992 global summits where environmental changes and threats to life on Earth were discussed. President Solís’ administration made a careful and symbolic choice to come to Puerto Jiménez. Because of the town’s location on the famed Osa Peninsula, he was using the unique locale to celebrate the area’s biodiversity, making prominent the enforcement of environmental protection, lauding the efforts of local rangers and MINAE, and also bringing a message of personal responsibility meant to maintain itself inseparable from the surroundings and ecological stewardship.
Solís’ election had marked a political change from Liberación, now a right-of-center party, to the new center-left Citizen’s Action Party (PAC). Many in the Osa region support PAC and its politicians as they promise social and economic reforms that favor rural areas.
Residents spoke highly of Solís, and commonly called him “humble,” supporting the popular notion that he would be a different type of politician and listen more carefully to the needs of the citizenry. The event in Puerto Jiménez was surprisingly casual in the sense that there was virtually no security. The president was open and greeted everyone he could, as the crowd packed into the salon comunal. The event was complete with vendors,
dancers, and music to celebrate the World Environment Day. During a performance led by an environmental educator and musician (discussed in Chapter 5), the dancers were
wearing costumes that included a “reformed” gold miner/hunter, a lowland paca, a peccary, a white-faced monkey, a tapir, and a jaguar; representing the biodiversity of the Osa and purposefully including the human, reflecting the social traditions of the area.
After a brief celebration, the president approached the lectern with members of his cabinet standing at his side. Solís not only underscored claims that the Osa Peninsula is a place of ecological importance but also asserted that the residents were stewards of that place and its biodiversity. This was not just an environmentalist message, however,
although it was World Environment Day; cast as an environmentalist statement, there were clear economic underpinnings. Maintaining the Osa as a product sold as part of Costa Rica’s increasing nature tourism industry carried particular importance for the official visit.
Solís wove together the economy of tourism, importance of community participation, identity of the nation and state policy, concerns for rural poverty, and environmentalism.
Moments like this clarified the fact that – especially in Costa Rica – policy, environmentalism, nationalism, tourism, and the country’s image are entangled.
The “development of the Osa Peninsula,” in the president’s words, is about helping nature and communities simultaneously. Solís’ collective message refers to “who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going,” and speaks of humans in conjunction with nature as a “universal family.” When he talks of climate change and species preservation he refers to younger generations and generations to come, explaining the importance of making choices now to better the lives for grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Solís called upon the audience to “reflect upon the great diversity” that is Costa Rica, that
“conservation is a beautiful cause,” and that Costa Ricans should feel happy and proud that there is so much natural beauty to enjoy [mucho que disfrutar]. Children are used
politically as symbolic of the future and the nation, and here, equilibrium with biodiversity conservation.
Solís continued and discussed various well-recognized problems. These included bad roads, pollution in the rivers, poaching, and illegal gold mining, among others. Given these problems as the president has identified them, he said, “patrimonio sigue vive” [our heritage lives on]. While it is difficult to decipher the complete intention, it seems that Solís was saying that regardless of the challenges to Costa Rican biodiversity and the aesthetic value of the environment, national heritage survives and should continue to persist with the help of all citizens. His statement also suggests a quality of immortality within the country’s national/natural heritage. After discussing how special and unique the Osa is, followed by listing threats to biodiversity, Solís suggested solutions to the problems and important strategies to achieve those goals.
Community development was a parallel theme to environmental appreciation, a message that better resonated with people, as they believed the benefits to be more immediate and tangible. Solís spoke enthusiastically and passionately, captivating the crowd as he explained, “we can’t do it without the people’s help…it must be a group effort.” Highlighting the importance of World Environment Day and the protection of Osa ecosystems, Solís exclaimed, “the president of the republic doesn’t come for nothing.”
Importantly, he was not only there to deliver familiar rhetoric of the environmental activists and concerned biologists, but to demonstrate that he cares about the wellbeing of rural communities this far from the capital. As he stressed the importance of “community development,” President Solís emphasized the importance of working together, making sure everyone is involved; the government working with the community rather than a one-sided approach; and that “we lose it all, if we don’t work well.” Calling on a “committee for sustainable development that works with the people it serves,” he promises a better future for all with “the right kind of development.”
President Solís then took questions from the audience. Several community leaders stood up to explain an issue that they have been facing and to ask the new administration for help. They explained that Puerto Jiménez and other small towns on the Osa Peninsula
lack necessities enjoyed by much of the rest of the country. They argued for a better health clinic, improved roads and bridges, more schools, and for the Osa Peninsula to be its own municipality. This has been a long battle for Puerto Jiménez residents as the clinic has minimal facilities, meaning that most healthcare needs require boarding the ferry to Golfito.
In Carate, there are still no municipality-provided utilities like water and electricity; the road condition is poor and a new school is needed. Thus, the community has felt that its own municipality would create the political entity necessary and appropriate for the area’s geography, bringing in more state money to places with access concerns. The president noted that such problems were “grave,” and that the administration would work “closer to the people and closer to communities.” He called for citizen participation as well –
In Carate, there are still no municipality-provided utilities like water and electricity; the road condition is poor and a new school is needed. Thus, the community has felt that its own municipality would create the political entity necessary and appropriate for the area’s geography, bringing in more state money to places with access concerns. The president noted that such problems were “grave,” and that the administration would work “closer to the people and closer to communities.” He called for citizen participation as well –