The Food Chain: Mideast Facing Choice Between Crops and Water
By Andrew Martin
Published: July 21, 2008
CAIRO — Global food shortages have placed the Middle East and North
Africa in a quandary, as they are forced to choose between growing more
crops to feed an expanding population or preserving their already scant
supply of water.
For decades nations in this region have drained aquifers, sucked the
salt from seawater and diverted the mighty Nile to make the deserts
bloom. But those projects were so costly and used so much water that it
remained far more practical to import food than to produce it. Today,
some countries import 90 percent or more of their staples.
Now, the worldwide food crisis is making many countries in this politically volatile region rethink that math.
The
population of the region has more than quadrupled since 1950, to 364
million, and is expected to reach nearly 600 million by 2050. By that
time, the amount of fresh water available for each person, already
scarce, will be cut in half, and declining resources could inflame
political tensions further.
“The countries of the region are caught between the hammer of rising food prices
and the anvil of steadily declining water availability per capita,”
Alan R. Richards, a professor of economics and environmental studies at
the University of California, Santa Cruz, said via e-mail. “There is no
simple solution.”
Losing confidence in world markets, these nations are turning anew to expensive schemes to maintain their food supply.
Djibouti
is growing rice in solar-powered greenhouses, fed by groundwater and
cooled with seawater, in a project that produces what the World Bank economist Ruslan Yemtsov calls “probably the most expensive rice on earth.”
Several
oil-rich nations, including Saudi Arabia, have started searching for
farmland in fertile but politically unstable countries like Pakistan
and Sudan, with the goal of growing crops to be shipped home.
“These
countries have the land and the water,” said Hassan S. Sharaf Al
Hussaini, an official in Bahrain’s agriculture ministry. “We have the
money.”
In Egypt, where a shortage of subsidized bread led to
rioting in April, government officials say they are looking into
growing wheat on two million acres straddling the border with Sudan.
Economists
and development experts say that nutritional self-sufficiency in this
part of the world presents challenges that are not easily overcome.
Saudi Arabia tapped aquifers to become self-sufficient in wheat
production in the 1980s. By the early 1990s, the kingdom had become a
major exporter. This year, however, the Saudis said they would phase
out the program because it used too much water.
“You can bring in
money and water and you can make the desert green until either the
water runs out or the money,” said Elie Elhadj, a Syrian-born author
who wrote his Ph.D. dissertation on the topic.
Egypt, too, has
for decades dreamed of converting huge swaths of desert into lush
farmland. The most ambitious of these projects is in Toshka, a Sahara
Desert oasis in a scorched lunar landscape of sand and rock
outcroppings.
When the Toshka farm was started in 1997, the Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak,
compared its ambitions to building the pyramids, involving roughly
500,000 acres of farmland and tens of thousands of residents. But no
one has moved there, and only 30,000 acres or so have been planted.
The
farm’s manager, Mohamed Nagi Mohamed, says the Sahara is perfect for
farming, as long as there is plenty of fertilizer and water. For one
thing, the bugs cannot handle the summer heat, so pesticides are not
needed.
“You can grow anything on this land,” he said, showing
off fields of alfalfa and rows of tomatoes and grapes, shielded from
the sun by gauzy white netting. “It’s a very nice project, but it needs
a lot of money.”
Mr. Mubarak calls his country’s growing
population an “urgent” problem that has exacerbated the food crisis.
The population grows about 1.7 percent annually, considerably slower
than a generation ago but still fast enough that it is on pace to
double by 2050.
Adding 1.3 million Egyptians each year to the 77
million squeezed into an inhabited area roughly the size of Taiwan is a
daunting prospect for a country in which 20 percent of citizens already
live in poverty. One recent morning in the Cairo slum of Imbaba, people crammed in front
of a weathered green bakery shack for their daily rations of subsidized
bread, a pita-like loaf called baladi that sells for less than a penny,
so cheap that some Egyptians feed it to their livestock.
The bakery shares the end of a dead-end street with a mountain of
garbage, 25 feet by 5 feet, that looks as if it is moving because so
many flies swarm over it.
“Most people are really suffering,
but what can they do?” asked Mohamed Faruk, a 38-year-old grocery
worker who moonlights as a bus inspector, as he carried nine loaves of
baladi in newspaper.
Awatef Mahmud, a 53-year-old mother of five
who sat on a nearby stoop waiting for her bread to cool, said higher
prices had led to dietary changes for her family. “Instead of buying
one kilo of meat every week, we buy a half a kilo,” she said. “People
used to buy pasta to make for their kids. But now that it’s four and a
half pounds,” she said, referring to the currency, “they give them
bread instead.”
Economists say that rather than seeking to become
self-sufficient with food, countries in this region should grow crops
for which they have a competitive advantage, like produce or flowers,
which do not require much water and can be exported for top dollar.
For
example, Doron Ovits, a confident 39-year-old with sunglasses pushed
over his forehead and a deep tan, runs a 150-acre tomato and pepper
empire in the Negev Desert of Israel. His plants, grown in greenhouses
with elaborate trellises and then exported to Europe, are irrigated
with treated sewer water that he says is so pure he has to add minerals
back. The water is pumped through drip irrigation lines covered tightly
with black plastic to prevent evaporation.
A pumping station
outside each greenhouse is equipped with a computer that tracks how
much water and fertilizer is used; Mr. Ovits keeps tabs from his
desktop computer.
“With drip irrigation, you save money. It’s
more precise,” he said. “You can’t run it like a peasant, a farmer. You
have to run it like a businessman.”
Israel is as obsessed with
water as Mr. Ovits is. It was there, in the 1950s, that an engineer
invented modern drip irrigation, which saves water and fertilizer by
feeding it, drop by drop, to a plant’s roots. Since then, Israel has
become the world’s leader in maximizing agricultural output per drop of
water, and many believe that it serves as a viable model for other
countries in the Middle East and North Africa.
Already, Tunisia
has reinvigorated its agriculture sector by adopting some of the desert
farming advances pioneered in Israel, and Egypt’s new desert farms now
grow mostly water-sipping plants with drip irrigation.
The
Israeli government strictly regulates how much water farmers can use
and requires many of them to irrigate with treated sewer water, pumped
to farms in purple pipes. It has also begun using a desalination plant
to cleanse brackish water for irrigation.
“In the future, another
200 million cubic meters of marginal water are to be recycled, in
addition to promoting the establishment of desalination plants,” Shalom
Simhon, Israel’s agriculture minister, wrote via e-mail.
Still,
four years of drought have created what Mr. Simhon calls “a deep water
crisis,” forcing the country to cut farmers’ quotas.
Egypt, at
least, has the Nile. Under a 1959 treaty, the country is entitled to a
disproportionate share of the river’s water, a point that rankles some
of its neighbors. It has built canals to bring Nile water to the Sinai
Desert, to desert lands between Cairo and Alexandria and to the vast
emptiness of Toshka.
For Saad Nassar, a top adviser in Egypt’s
ministry of agriculture and land reclamation, the country has little
choice but to try to make the desert bloom, even in unlikely places
like Toshka, which it says will eventually succeed: all of Egypt’s
farms and population are now crowded onto just 4 percent of its land.
“We don’t have the luxury of choosing this or that,” he said. “We have to work on every acre that is cultivatable.”
Egypt is establishing an estimated 200,000 acres of farmland in the
desert each year, even as it loses 60,000 acres of its best farmland to
urbanization, said Richard Tutwiler, director of the Desert Development
Center at the American University in Cairo. “It’s sand,” he said,
referring to the reclaimed desert land. “It’s not the world’s most
fertile soil.”
As Cairo’s population has grown — to an estimated 12 million today —
hastily constructed apartment buildings have sprouted among the fields.
“They sow apartment buildings instead of wheat,” said Gideon Kruseman,
a Dutch agriculture economist working with the government to improve
farming there.
For more than 5,000 years, farmers have worked the
land along the Nile and in the Nile Delta, the lotus-shaped plain north
of Cairo where centuries of accumulated silt have produced a deep, rich
layer of topsoil. They have endured drought, flood, locust and
pestilence.
Now the scourge is development. For farmers like
Magdy Abdel-Rahman, the new buildings not only ruin the rural
tranquillity of his ancient fields, with the constant hammering and
commotion, but they also reduce his yields.
“The shade is not
good for the plants,” said Mr. Abdel-Rahman, who farms corn and clover
on a half-acre lot 20 miles from downtown Cairo.
Five miles
farther out, Talaat Mohamed’s three acres of sweet potatoes are
squeezed between four-, five- and seven-story apartment buildings like
a jigsaw puzzle. A building recently went up a dozen feet from his
field, with steel bars jutting from the foundation and piles of gravel
alongside.
Mr. Mohamed, 60, routinely turns down eager land
speculators because, he says, he loves working outdoors. But he
complains about all the time spent removing urban detritus from his
field, which on this day included a maroon brassiere, soda cans, food
wrappers, wads of indistinguishable plastic, a Signal toothpaste box
and a black flip-flop.
“The Egyptians invented farming,” he said,
peering despairingly at a landscape of electric wires and buildings,
traffic and trash. “And this is what it has become.”
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