Thai villagers have moved four times to escape rising sea levels: Life on the climate-change frontline
Lisa Lock
scientific editor
Alexander Pol
deputy editor
The village of Khun Samut Chin, 50km southwest of Bangkok, Thailand, is a small, rustic fishing village similar to thousands scattered across Asia—except that it is slowly being swallowed by the sea.
Much of the faces severe erosion, with around at rates exceeding one meter. But in this village, the situation is far worse. Erosion occurs at three to five meters annually, the land subsides by one to two centimeters each year, and since the 1990s, (6.4km²) has already been lost to the sea.
All that remains of the original site is a Buddhist temple, now standing alone on a small patch of land that juts out into the sea so much so that locals call it "."
The severe erosion is partially due , but has been compounded by other . Upstream dams, built to provide flood control and irrigation to farmers, have reduced sediment flows in the Chao Phraya River delta, where the village is located.
Excessive groundwater extraction by nearby industries has increased land subsidence. Meanwhile, the construction of artificial ponds for commercially farming shrimp has led to widespread clearing of mangrove forests that once served as a buffer against erosion.
People move away
My new has found that villagers have been forced to move away from the sea four times, losing both land and livelihoods in the process. The government has not provided compensation for damaged homes or financial assistance to help them relocate.
Many younger villagers, wearying of constant displacement and finding it increasingly difficult to find fish as sediment makes the sea shallower, have left for jobs in Bangkok on construction sites, in factories and other workplaces. Those who remain are mostly older villagers. Today, the local school has only four pupils, making it the smallest in Thailand.
Khun Samut Chin lies at the forefront of climate change. An estimated , 59% in tropical Asia, could face inundation by sea level rise by 2100. Without concerted efforts to change our emission levels, many more coastal communities around the world will face similar struggles in the years to come.
In theory, formal adaptation plans are government-led strategies designed to help communities cope with climate change. The theories assume that the state will decide when, where and how people should move, build protective structures like seawalls, and provide funding to affected communities.
In practice, however, as seen in Khun Samut Chin and many other places across Asia, low-income and relatively powerless coastal communities are often left to abandon their homes through forced displacement or try to stay put, with little or no government support, even when they ask for help.
Not giving up
Wisanu, the villager leader, says that Thai politicians have prioritized urban and industrial centers because they hold more voters and economic power. A government official told me that high land costs and limited budgets make relocation unfeasible. Instead, the state has erected bamboo walls as a temporary fix which have slowed down, but not stopped, the erosion.
Villagers are that the government has yet to implement any large-scale projects and that they are repeatedly asked to take part in consultations and surveys without any tangible results. Nor has the government provided much support to offset reduced incomes from fishing or improved transportation linkages, which remain sparse.
In response, the villagers have taken matters into their own hands. They have initiated a . About 10 households, including the leader's, host tourists who pay 600–700 Baht (£13–£16) per night, with 50 Baht going to a community fund for erosion mitigation efforts, such as purchasing or repairing bamboo dikes.
They market the program through and other social media platforms as a place where visitors can experience life at the frontline of climate change, visit the temple, and help by replanting mangroves and buying food from the villagers. Wisanu, whose household manages five homestays, told me that the program "enables us not to get rich but lets us walk."
The villagers also believe that the program helps raise awareness of their plight. They have also lobbied the local government to keep the school open and reconstruct a storm-damaged health center.
This village offers a glimpse into what many others will likely face in the future. It shows that "" is often not managed at all, or at least not by the state. Global frameworks like the Paris agreement and Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change reports assume that governments have the capacity and political will to plan and fund coastal adaptation efforts.
Khun Samut Chin, however, shows how far reality can diverge from these assumptions: the sea encroaches, the state is absent, and villagers are left to mostly fend for themselves.
Yet they refuse to give up. They continue to stay, host tourists, replant mangroves, repair bamboo dikes and resist the demise of their village. They fight not only against erosion but also political neglect. If governments and global institutions fail to help them, this community will be washed away not by the water alone, but also by our inaction.
Provided by The Conversation
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