The Mirror of Eucalyptus

The polarisation of an invasive species and how it reflects our collective dysfunction.

If you mention the eucalyptus tree to anyone in Portugal, it conjures up an image of a highly polarised species. The ecological crowd would insist that because of its status as an invasive species that uses huge amounts of water and creates soil acidity, it deserves to be banished forever. However, the local people that plant the trees would insist that it is a necessary source of income, in a place that doesn't have much economic security. 

It’s interesting to observe these polarities, particularly with the understanding that any complex issue can very rarely be reduced down into black-or-white, good and bad terms. When I first arrived here in Portugal, I didn’t know much about it. I remember being mesmerised by the sweet smell and silvery leaves bustling in the wind. I had heard that eucalyptus was an issue due to the fire risk that it poses, but I didn’t understand the full context that informs people’s perceptions of this tree. 

When I was living in a valley in the Serra de Monchique I began to notice the full scale of eucalyptus production. On bus journeys, I observed how entire hillsides had been cleared — natural biodiversity and protected species decimated, for the purpose of planting eucalyptus to be harvested for paper pulp. It was impossible to not feel a sense of loss. As I began to explore the area by foot and by bike, I found certain areas that had remained untouched. Patches of ancient cork oak forest, luscious green meadows, valleys and creeks filled with wildflowers and butterflies. The contrast between these unscathed, natural areas and the relative lifelessness of eucalyptus plantations was stark and depressing. As I made new acquaintances in the area, I met with a local who told me that her family had lost everything they owned in a wildfire in 2018. Their house, belongings and land were completely decimated — leaving a residual scar not only on the landscape but also on their psyches. I began to understand why certain members of the expat community despised the eucalyptus. 

As is often the way, it seemed to me that our relationship to the eucalyptus tree was yet another example of humanity’s hubris. Introduced in the late 18th century for ornamental and medicinal reasons, the eucalyptus began to slowly colonise and consume the Portuguese landscape. This was further accelerated in the 1970’s when specific laws were created to boost the expansion of eucalyptus, as a way to bolster the economy. Over time, this ended up increasing the risk of wildfires and even indirectly damaging the sector in which it was meant to originally benefit. It is estimated that in 2017 alone, wildfires cost Portugal a total of between 500 million and even up to 1 billion euros.

It would fair to say that my perception has certainly changed since I first arrived. At the same time, I’m aware that the issue of only hearing a certain perspective increases the likelihood of living in an echo chamber. I wanted to understand more about why Portugal had willingly sacrificed its wilderness to the eucalyptus plantations. As I met with the native Portuguese, it became apparent that much like the deforestation of the Amazon, many local people were simply doing what they had to do to survive. Of course, we all have a choice with how we live — but for some of us the options are so limited that if it comes to cutting down an ancient forest or letting your family struggle with poverty, the choice is usually pretty clear. Economically speaking, Portugal isn’t a wealthy country by European standards. How or why this is, I can’t say. It makes sense that if someone is living hand-to-mouth with little support from anyone, including their own government, then sometimes we resort to actions and behaviours which have negative downstream consequences for ourselves or the environment.

As a Portuguese friend explained to me, when the economy crashed in 2008, many people had to leave the countryside to work in the cities. They had left behind land that had been in their family for generations. It became wild and untamed. When the paper industry proposes a form of relatively passive income — to plant eucalyptus trees on their land and harvest them 8 years later, generating thousands of euros, it becomes a pretty interesting prospect. Especially considering that financial difficulties were the reason that many people left in the first place. Of course, this is the issue with our extractive economic system. It doesn’t take in the bigger picture. Apparently, after 3 cycles of eucalyptus planting — in less than 30 years, the land is considered to be deserted. At this point, the soil is dead from the chronic abuse of intensive agricultural practices. It has nothing left to give. 

My intention for writing this isn’t to orchestrate a hit piece on industry, capitalism, or any of the other cliché arguments that ecological or left-leaning people rely on to support their claims. I confess that I simply don’t know enough about economics to comment on this. All I know is that these issues are considerably more complex than many of us realise. It’s important to listen to both sides with compassion, to approach these challenges with humility, grace and understanding. One thing that I do know is that our current approach simply isn’t working. It isn’t enough to be sustainable. With our entire approach both historically and economically being based on extraction, control, domination and expansionism — it’s clear that this method isn’t serving us. Our GDP and net-worth won’t matter when the soil is dead, the water is polluted with industrial run-off and the air is poisoned with toxic emissions. It’s time to find a more integrated and holistic approach — not in the passive hippie sense, but in the way of modelling Nature’s systems as a path towards regeneration.

When we give back more than we take, everybody benefits. Portugal’s issue with eucalyptus is merely a symptom of an issue that runs far deeper than we realise. Don’t shoot the messenger, as they say. The land we see covered in this incendiary species is merely a mirror, pointing towards our lack of foresight and self-centred attitudes. As we unravel our egotistical perspectives and neurotic tendencies, I’m certain that this change will be further reflected in the outside world — a return to balance, biodiversity and the honouring of Nature as the highest value. 

Photo by Michael Held