The indigenous Ngäbe of Panama maintain a rich oral tradition of myths and sacred songs that primarily focus on the cosmic order and our place within it. One myth recounts the conflict between two chiefs, giants from each side of Talamanca tropical mountain ridge. They begin to wrestle, back and forth across the mountain divide, each bringing their dominant climate with him; the chief from the Caribbean Sea side brings with him heavy rains, the Pacific Ocean side chief brings sun. In the end, the Pacific side chief wins but allows the Caribbean side chief to remain at the summit of the tropical forest, converted into a strong tree. The story finishes, noting that fierce storms come from the mountains’ other side if someone accidentally touches this tree in the deep forest.

This is an abridged version of one of many Ngäbe myths where main characters assume the form of trees, animals, or other forest entities. Growing up listening to the elders narrate such stories, we can understand how the Ngäbe worldview fosters great respect for the cosmic order and the living forest. We can also understand how peoples like the Ngäbe are willing to give their lives to protect the forests and rivers from the never-ending threats of deforestation that the global consumption-model provokes.

Tropical deforestation embedded in our daily lives

In 2019, tropical forest the area of a football field was lost every six seconds at the global level; almost one hundred twelve thousand square kilometers of unrecoverable natural forest in only one year. Since 1990, global deforestation has stripped an equivalent landmass more extensive than the country of South Africa, or two times the state of Texas. We know that we are not only lamenting tree loss; the biodiversity of tropical forests contains about eighty percent of the world´s land animals. The country of Panamá, for example, is one of the most biodiverse territories on the planet, particularly in terms of the density of its biodiversity. Nine hundred seventy-eight bird species reside in its tropical forests, and more plant and animal species exist in a square kilometer of Panama´s tropical forests than in vastly larger areas in the Amazon. Statistics vary, but it is estimated that Panama is losing about 1% of its forest cover per year, with accumulative consequences that are devastating not only on the ecological level but also in the cultural, social and economic lives of marginalized communities, particularity indigenous peoples.

What is driving this continued deforestation, even after decades of a growing global consciousness as to its grave consequences? The response is a complex reality of many interrelated factors that illustrate how many aspects of modern life within the global economic model are directly tied to “embedded deforestation.” In addition to the more obvious lumber extraction for wood and paper products, mineral mining to supply technology and industry has been encroaching into previously non-viable tropical forests in recent decades due to new technologies and chemicals that prove intensely destructive. Energy production and transmission projects such as hydroelectric dams and cable lines account for an ever-growing portion of forest loss. Replacing traditionally biodiverse subsistence and small production agriculture of peasant and indigenous communities with eco-destructive monoculture agroindustry is another major deforestation driver. Palm oil, for example, whose plantations are responsible for a significant share of tropical deforestation, can be found in nearly everything from shampoo and deodorant to biofuel and many food products. Yet perhaps the largest contributor to ongoing deforestation is directly connected to our dinner plate; the meat we consume demands extensive tracts of land for grazing and animal feed production. Cattle ranching is cited as the largest factor of deforestation in the Amazon, and many of the supposed “wildfires” that take place there are intentionally set by cattle companies. As a significant factor contributing to Climate Change, deforestation for animal grazing and feed production is second only to fossil fuel burning. Tearing down tropical forests releases an immense about of carbon in the atmosphere, and the carbon-absorbing forests are lost, creating an ever more fragile planetary climate imbalance.

Seeing neither the forest nor the trees

Deforestation has long been recognized as a severe threat to human and planetary health by the global community; the difficulty has been transforming that understanding into concrete action. In 2014, over 200 governments, corporations and NGOs signed the voluntary, non-binding “New York Declaration on Forests”, with the collective commitment to reduce annual deforestation in half by 2020 and stop natural forest loss entirely by 2030. But like so many good-will declarations (like the Paris Accord), it proves practically useless as unfettered deforestation continues. A 2019 five-year evaluation on the initiative is titled “A story of large commitments and yet limited progress.”

In the current market-driven atmosphere where nature is understood as a commodity, the supposed solutions proposed by governments and corporations often do not confront the roots of the problem. One example is the reforestation schemes that accompany projects such as mineral mining, requisites that attempt to give the appearance of mitigating evident ecological damage. Reforestation projects with the profit initiative at their core do not replace the immense diversity of natural forests. Estimates show that about two-thirds of reforestation initiatives result in teak farms, a species native to South Asian that, cultivated in the monoculture tree-farm model, produces devastating negative effects for soil and water. While teak is cited in the lumber industry as eco-friendly due to its resistance to insects, and thus little need for pesticides, this same quality leaves teak forests, so common today in countries like Panama, as eerily silent “dead forests” with no hope of habitation by tropical birds and animals. As stated in the encyclical Laudato Sí, “the replacement of virgin forest with plantations of trees, usually monocultures, is rarely adequately analyzed” and can “seriously compromise a biodiversity which the new species being introduced does not accommodate” (Laudato Sí 39).

Another example of a market-driven solution to deforestation is “carbon credit trading,” where specific forest areas are preserved as a tradeoff for continued industrial pollution in another region. It is another false neoliberal solution that fails to understand the global community’s interconnectedness and promotes a “pay to pollute” business model, commonplace as corporations now include environmental damage costs in their annual budgets.

The forest through the eyes of faith

The current ecological focus of the Church´s theological reflection and action, especially since the release of the encyclical Laudato Sí, has highlighted that care for our Common Home is no longer a peripheral issue or the concern of a few, but rather central to our authentic living out our discipleship. Therefore, in the face of this seemingly overwhelming problem of ongoing deforestation, how should we respond as people of faith?

Perhaps our steps should focus on both conversion and action. True ecological conversion invites us to come to a deeper experience of the grandeur of God´s creation, to a profound knowledge of our interdependence in this “web of life.” This requires the conscious decision to contemplate the splendor of creation, the face of the Creator manifest in the smallest creature, knowing that “nature cannot be regarded as something separate from ourselves or as a mere setting in which we live” (Laudato Sí 139). As created beings, our experience of the Divine comes from our senses, from our experience of the world around us. “When we can see God reflected in all that exists, our hearts are moved to praise the Lord for all his creatures and to worship him in union with them” (Laudato Sí 87). In this regard, the ecological crisis cannot be approached as merely a series of technical problems, but rather a crisis of relationship; a need to renew our connection to the world around us and all God´s creatures, who hold intrinsic value far beyond their utility in satisfying our needs or desires.

Natural forests have been understood as sacred places of divine mystery throughout human existence, and continue to be just that for the peoples and cultures who have not replaced the divine mystery with a technocratic creed. The process of the Synod on the Amazon brought into focus the particular relationship indigenous peoples have with the forest, and in doing so, revealing important lessons for us all. The forest, as experienced by indigenous peoples, “is not a resource to be exploited; it is a being, or various beings, with which we have to relate.” Indigenous ecological knowledge shows deep wisdom that “inspires care and respect for creation, with a clear consciousness of its limits, and prohibits its abuse,” affirming that “to abuse nature is to abuse our ancestors, our brothers and sisters, creation and the Creator, and to mortgage the future.” In a prophetic cry to end the savage destruction of the forest and other ecosystems, with the plurality of social, cultural and ecological devastation, indigenous peoples proclaim that “we are water, air, earth and life of the environment created by God. For this reason, we demand an end to the mistreatment and destruction of mother Earth. The land has blood, and it is bleeding; the multinationals have cut the veins of our mother Earth” (Querida Amazonia 42).

Walking a new path

True ecological conversion will always be transformed into concrete actions, new ways of being and relating to all creation and the human family. We can take routine time to separate ourselves from the noise that can sometimes overwhelm us and contemplate the never-ending mystery of God´s creation, allow God to come to us, penetrate our being and move us to a knowledge beyond words that “all is one”. As individuals, families and communities, there are also several tangible steps we can take to decrease deforestation, such as: reducing our consumption of wood and paper products, avoiding single-use products, reducing or eliminating our meat consumption, and planting native trees. It ultimately becomes a matter of living a conscientious life, respecting the intimate interconnectedness of all things and all peoples, and recognizing the consequences of our daily choices.

Yet we need to recognize that the accumulative effect of individual actions is not enough if we fail to address the political and corporate injustices that are devastating the world’s tropical forests. Even isolated protests against specific mega-projects fall short if they do not result in permanent legal, political and corporate change. As our call to discipleship is communal, so is our commitment to restoring harmonious relationships in our Common Home. Organizing as communities and collaborating with others who work for real change is vitally important. Newly emerging ecclesial environmental networks in the Amazon, Congo and Mesoamerica have presented hopeful models that emphasize the importance of collaborating and working together, from the perspective of faith, to confront numerous complex and interrelated problems. These networks look beyond political borders to approach biomes as living organisms to be respected, protected and renewed. Indigenous ecological knowledge and ways of being have been central in the foundation of these new movements, respecting indigenous peoples as leaders and guides in this process of restoration and new life.

May we all continue with sincerity the path of ecological conversion, and convert that new understanding in concrete actions that respect the grandeur of our biodiverse Common Home. May the trees firmly stand, giving testimony to a history that long preceded us and the promise of a healthy planetary future for our decedents.

Praise Be!
Joe Fitzgerald, CM

Joe Fitzgerald, CM is a Vincentian priest originally from Philadelphia who has lived with the indigenous Ngäbe in Panama since 2005. He holds a doctorate in theology from the Bolivarian Pontifical University, Colombia, and is the author of Danzar en la casa de Ngöbö: Resiliencia de la Vida Plena Ngäbe frente al neoliberalismo (Editorial Abya Yala 2019).