I look over the never-ending rows of crude palm trees stretching out before me as the sun sets.
This straightforward estate, which smallholders first planted three decades ago, is both a source of pride and a never-ending fight – a microcosm of the intricate difficulties smallholder landowners face in Indonesia.
Farmers have labored in these areas for decades, mainly dependent on the death of these palm trees, which come from Guinea and West Africa.
The fruits they grow have become Indonesia’s backbone, giving rural areas a crucial source of income and making them one of the biggest palm oil producers in the world.
But, as global demand for this functional product increases, a contentious debate has erupted regarding its ecology and effects on the environment.
On the one hand, vocal conservation advocates criticize the destruction caused by continual forest to make way for palm plantations, which have led to the loss of habitats for threatened species like the Sumatran lion and animal.
On the other hand, there is the terrible reality of poverty and economic conservation that affect the lives of millions of growers. The decision to feed their families or preserve picturesque trees is not just a philosophical one, for them, but a normal struggle for basic survival.
The statistics paint a distinct image. According to the Indonesian Ministry of Agriculture, smallholders account for 35 % of total national palm oil production. Cumulatively, their humble fields, the majority of which are just a few acres in size, contribute billions of dollars to the nation’s economy every year.
The growers are, however, caught in the middle, torn between the urgent need to guard the communities that depend on their livelihoods.
Many of us have first-hand accounts of the invasion of large-scale plantations on lush and green forest areas, fueled by an ever-increasing demand for palm oil.
When these industrial titans massively cut down trees, they leave on deteriorated landscapes and the loss of rich wildlife in their midst.
So, it’s unfair to disproportionately responsible growers for their problems, which are rooted in a complicated web of economic factors that extend far beyond the limitations of their lands.
Some rural people who depend on fuel palms to make ends meet are plagued by poverty. These people may feel compelled to develop their crops, even if it means encroaching on secured places because of limited access to education, care, and additional sources of income.
It’s important to note, however, that while some smallholders may contribute to the deforestation, the scale pales in comparison to the large- scale plantations.
Smallholders are also vulnerable to exploitation by middlemen and businesses because of the lack of clear land ownership rights and inadequate legal protection. Farmers frequently have to sell their crops at prices set by those in the upper part of the supply chain.
However, there is some hope amid these challenges. Thanks to the efforts of government agencies, NGOs, and some forward-thinking industry players, the movement toward sustainable palm oil production is gaining traction.
Initiatives such as the Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil ( RSPO ) have established strict standards for responsible cultivation, which cover environmental protection, social responsibility and economic viability. Smallholders can gain greater access to broader markets and command higher prices for their certified sustainable palm oil by adhering to these rules.
Yet, the path toward sustainability is long and arduous, extending beyond the boundaries of their plantations. A recent study by WWF Indonesia identified several hurdles to the implementation of the RSPO among smallholders, including a lack of technical knowledge, financial support, price stability and effective audit mechanisms.
The opportunity for transformation, however, is there. By investing in initiatives that improve smallholders ‘ access to technical training and strengthen their land tenure rights, they can be better able to strike the balance between sustainability and survival.
This change will call for compromise and collaboration. It is crucial to close the gap between large corporations, environmental activists, and farmers who are frequently caught in the middle and form Indonesia’s palm industry’s backbone.
As I take in the vast area of green canopy before me, I am reminded of the delicate balance we must strike between progress and preservation. The future of Indonesia’s palm oil industry, as well as the fate of precious rainforests, hinges on the ability to create pathways that both respect the needs of communities and preserve our natural heritage.
That will require a strong commitment to creative solutions, a collective and cooperative determination of all stakeholders, and a willingness to confront long- standing inequalities. Only then can we discover a way to ensure that the production of palm oil can support local economies and protect the environment.
Indonesia’s destiny rests squarely in the hands of its smallholders, a future in which sustainability and survival no longer need to be mutually exclusive but instead are interwoven into a tapestry of hope and prosperity for generations to come.
Mohammad Yunus is with the Faculty of Science, Khon Kaen University, Thailand