Monarch Butterfly Conservation Perspectives Monarch Butterflies and Giant Sequoias: Shared Greatness and Plight By Jordi Honey-Rosés Jordi Honey-Rosés January, 2004 Critics in Mexico frequently scoff at conservationists for having their priorities mixed up. After all, human needs should be met first before worrying about trees and butterflies. Such comments, while sounding reasonable, in fact lack a bit of perspective and may I daresay a bit of humility as well. The 2,000 mile Monarch butterfly migration from southern Canada to Mexico’s central pine forest is one of Nature’s finest wonders. It is amazing to think that a Monarch butterfly that hatches near Ontario can find its way to a grove of trees in central Mexico next to another Monarch, perhaps born in central Minnesota. They are united by a journey of thousands of miles, bringing them to the same tree in Mexico where neither has been before. Such an amazing and inexplicable natural feat is on par with other natural wonders such as the awe-inspiring Giant Sequoias (Sequoia gigantea) of California. What the Monarch butterflies have in orientation and resilience, the Giant Sequoia’s have in size and longevity. The Giant Sequoias are the tallest and oldest trees in the world, rising to an astonishing height of 281 feet (85.6 meters) and having survived several millenniums. When John Muir counted the annual rings on the biggest stump he ever saw he found more than 4000. More recent estimates place the age of the oldest Sequoia at 3,200 to 2,500 years. That means that when Julius Cesar and Jesus Christ walked the Earth, these giant trees were already a few hundred years old. The story of the Monarch Butterfly migration parallels both the greatness and the plight of the Giant Sequoia. When Western pioneers encountered the enormous Sequoias some were quick to set up sawmills seeking to log the giant trees into equally giant profits. Unfortunately, the sawmills were not as profitable as hoped. Natural historian Donald Culross Peattie describes the logging of a Sequoia grove in his book A Natural History of Western Trees: “Today… there are thousands of logs that were never utilized because they proved too big or costly to handle, millions of board feet gone to waste because the wood smashed to bits in its fall. The whole ghastly enterprise ended in financial failure, but not a failure of destruction. That was complete.” In a few brief weeks, a millisecond in the life of a Giant Sequoia, man brought the life of several 2500 year old trees to an abrupt end. The leveling of several Giant Sequoia groves robbed future generations from the privilege of enjoying some of the oldest trees alive as well as robbing the natural species of their home. Today most would agree that such destruction of ancient life forms is arrogant and unacceptable. Just as the Western Pioneers faced several choices with regard to the fate of California’s Giant Sequoias, we now face similar management decisions at the overwintering sites of the Monarch butterfly in Mexico. Many argue that the logging must continue to meet the immediate needs of the local population. Indeed it is true that many local ejidos and indigenous communities live in poor and in some cases dire living conditions. Yet while unfair land distribution, misguided agrarian policy, and the lack of democratic institutions have put rural Mexico into a hole, logging clearly isn’t pulling them out. The last 30 years of intense logging has failed to bring the local communities any closer to having healthier children, more literate leaders or more organized communities. Poverty and illiteracy reigned 30 years ago as it still does today. The living conditions are in fact worse now if one considers the loss of traditional and indigenous knowledge as well as the forest resources. Moreover, those truly profiting from logging are not the immediate and surrounding population but others found living miles away from the Monarch butterfly region. The beneficiaries are the owners of sawmills or medium size businesses who add value to the timber by making furniture, doors or other wood products, often times with illegal timber. Of the 33 ejidos or indigenous communities with land in the core zone of the Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve, only two communities own a functioning sawmill, while not a single community owns any organized wood related business. By selling the timber as standing trees and not processing the wood themselves, the ejidos and indigenous communities allow the major profits to be sent elsewhere. Whatever cash is paid to the community from the timber industry may frequently be controlled by a small circle of individuals or community leaders. Similar to the nil benefits California now receives from having logged the Giant Sequoias 150 years ago, Mexicans and the public at large are at risk of loosing the Monarch overwintering phenomenon for nothing in return. Those who cry that local inhabitants are forced to cut trees in order to feed their family misinterpret the realities of the area. Organized logging by external interests is the major threat to the pine-oyamel forest at the overwintering sites, and those benefiting from organized logging are not the local families but the private business owners that may never step foot in an oyamel forest. Even many of the cornfields seen bordering the oyamel forest today were originally deforested for the value of the timer. Appalled as we all should be at the poor living conditions of rural Mexico, we should also look to our political and economic institutions to solve these problems instead of “sacrificing” the forest habitat of the Monarch butterflies in favor of fictitious rural development or “the need to feed poor families”. Our human economic system has created and perpetuated poverty, not the Monarch butterflies or the oyamel forest. If the destructive logging continues, the local inhabitants are likely to gain neither economic development nor maintain the honor (and revenue) that comes with hosting one of Nature’s finest natural wonders. With a dose of historical perspective and humility towards Nature’s creation, our generation might be remembered for what we succeeded in leaving behind. And then our priorities might not be so mixed up after all.   Copyright 2004 Journey North. All Rights Reserved. Please send all questions, comments, and suggestions to our feedback form